Page 3 of Tempted By Eden

I gulp down the rest of my water and follow him to the pool table, my eyes roaming over his muscular back, tight ass, and lean frame. A white T-shirt clings to his shoulders, and his dark blue jeans and sneakers give him a casual, relaxed look. He’s effortlessly handsome, and I can’t think of a better way to end my vacation.

The pool table has clearly seen better days, its green felt worn down to patches of bare wood. He rubs his jaw, eyeing the dilapidated surface.

“Are you sure about this? I’m pretty good at pool.”

I tilt my head. “So, it’s an easy win for you,” I taunt, shrugging my shoulder.

“Okay. Your loss.” Jonathon hands me a cue and then proceeds to chalk his own, his eyes flicking to me every few seconds, assessing the competition. I smirk, setting up the balls in the rack, confident that I’m about to give him a run for his money.

“Wanna flip to see who breaks?” I offer.

“Ladies first. I’m a gentleman, after all.”

I chalk my cue, pursing my lips as I blow off the excess. Our eyes lock and the attraction between us is thick in the air. There’s an undeniable tension, a magnetic pull that makes it hard to focus on anything else.

As I position the cue for the break, I glance at him, half-tempted to act coy and ask him to show me how it’s done, just to feel his body close to mine. I can already imagine the warmth of him, the way his muscles would press against my back, his breath hot on my neck. But I’m not the type to play helpless, and I’m definitely not one to lose. I could beat him with my eyes closed. But I won’t. He’s too fucking cute.

With a swift, practiced motion, I take the shot, smoothly breaking the balls and sending them scattering across the table. A striped ball sinks into the corner pocket, and I grin, lining up my next shot. His eyes are on me, watching, hungry, as I pocket ball after ball. One shot. Then another. And another. The balls disappear in quick succession.

“Why do I get the feeling I’ve just been hustled?” he grumbles, amusement flickering in his eyes.

I twist my lips, satisfied, and with only two striped balls left on the table, I make my move. Walking over to him, I place a hand on his chest. His heartbeat is strong and rapid under my palm. My other hand snakes up his neck, fingers playing with the soft ends of his hair. He groans, low and deep, and the sound sends a shiver through me.

“You shouldn’t have been such a gentleman and let me break,” I whisper, rising up on my toes to meet his mouth as his head drops towards mine. I bite his lower lip, tugging it gently between my teeth before releasing it. His eyes darken, the desire in them unmistakable.

“Wanna get out of here?” he rumbles.

I nod, the game already forgotten. He tosses our cues onto the table and grabs my hand, threading his fingers through mine. Without another word, he throws some cash onto the bar and leads me out to the cobbled street.

He mentions that his hotel is only a couple blocks away, but the short walk stretches into a drawn-out journey. We stop every few steps, too caught up in each other to care about getting there quickly. Pressed against buildings, our kisses are frantic, hands roaming wildly. A few people glance our way—some amused, some annoyed—but I don’t give a fuck and I don’t think Jonathon does either. Tonight is about pure, unfiltered pleasure, two bodies colliding in the pursuit of nothing but feeling good. Just one night of no-strings-attached fun before reality catches up with me.

By the time we reach his hotel, we’re breathless, laughing as he fumbles with the key card. When we stumble into the room, I glance around—it’s sleek, modern, and spacious. Worlds apart from the cramped, dingy hostel I’ve been staying in. The bed is huge and inviting, and I’m relieved we’re here. This place is the perfect escape for a night like this.

Jonathon grabs me and tosses me onto the bed. Then he’s quickly on me, lips crashing into mine and stealing my breath. His hands are everywhere, possessive, hungry, and I can’t get enough. We tear at each other’s clothes, desperate to be skin-to-skin. It’s frantic, raw, and every touch is electric.

When he finally pulls back, we’re both panting, eyes locked in a haze of shared lust. Then he slowly makes his way down my body, trailing kisses across my skin, lower and lower.

I catch my breath, trying to steady the pounding of my heart. “What are you doing?”

His gaze lifts to mine, a wicked smile spreading across his lips. “What I promised.”

A flush creeps up my neck as the memory of his earlier words floods back. I flop onto the bed, more than ready for him to make good on that promise—to keep going until I forget my own name, until nothing exists but the pleasure of his wicked tongue.

Chapter two

Cora

Five years later

“Leo, sweetheart, please putyour shoes on!” I call, hoping this morning’s routine will go more smoothly than yesterday’s.

“Nooo! I don’t wanna go!” His voice rings out from the bedroom, muffled.

I let out a sigh, quickly scanning the living room as I finish packing his backpack. Lunchbox, water bottle, hat—check. I add an extra banana, just in case. “Leo, we do this every morning,” I plead, trying to inject some patience into my tone.

“Kindy sucks!” his small voice huffs.

“Language, Leo!” I scold, shaking my head.

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