Page 41 of Tempted By Eden

She’s even more beautiful when she’s pissed.

Dameon takes his seat beside me, clearly just as amused by her annoyance, and we settle in as the speaker starts up again. Today’s topic is something about giving and receiving constructive feedback in the workplace—complete bullshit, if you ask me. I’m not here to hold hands and singKumbaya.

Suddenly, the speaker’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Could I ask James to come up on stage?”

I freeze in place. Dameon laughs quietly beside me, attempting to hide his grin behind his hand.

Fuck you, I mouth at him, rising from my seat and reluctantly making my way to the front of the auditorium.

The next thirty minutes are absolute torture. Pure hell. I sit there while the speaker readsanonymousfeedback from employees, each comment more infuriating than the last. The speaker then instructs everyone on how to communicate more effectively. A celebrity roasting would be more pleasurable. This is just brutal, like getting fucked in the ass with no lube.

The speaker reads aloud: “James walks around like he’s always in a foul mood. Would it kill him to smile once in a while? Maybe he just needs to get la—” She cuts herself off abruptly, but it’s obvious to me and everyone in the auditorium what she was about to say:laid.

An awkward silence fills the room as the speaker clears her throat. “Well then,” she says, “remember when offering feedback to use phrases like: ‘I see room for improvement here,’ or ‘The team could benefit from,’ or perhaps, ‘A better way to handle this might be…’”

I clench my jaw, glaring out into the audience, daring the asshole who wrote that to make eye contact. No one does, of course. They wouldn’t dream of it.

But then I catch sight of Cora.

She’s shaking with laughter, her shoulders trembling as she tries to hold it in. I narrow my eyes at her, silently promising retribution.

She will pay for this.

The second the session ends, I’m out of my chair, moving fast. My anger builds, gaining momentum with each deliberate step in her direction. Cora’s smile dies quickly when she realizes I’m headed straight for her. Her wide eyes snap onto mine, and for a moment, I feel like a predator about to devour my prey.

When I finally reach her seat, I lean in, bracing myself on the armrests, trapping her beneath me. Our faces are close—too close in this public space—and I can feel the sharp inhale of her breath against my skin. My voice is low, just for her. “Get your ass to my office.Now. I’ve got one-on-oneconstructivefeedback to give you.”

The heat in her eyes is unmistakable. Without another word, I straighten up and walk out of the auditorium, confident that she’ll follow.

Less than five minutes later, there’s a soft knock on my door.

“Come in,” I bark, already loosening my tie. The door swings open, and there she is, standing just inside my office, her chest rising and falling with each breath, her lips parted slightly.

I reach for the remote, frosting the glass walls and locking the door behind her.

“Seems I need to get laid,” I deadpan. Her lips twitch, trying to hide a smile, but it’s no use. Her eyes sparkle, and the corner of my mouth pulls upward before I can stop it.

“Well, if it’ll help improve company morale, sir…” she teases, biting her lip in that way that makes me feral.

“It’ll improve a lot more than that,” I utter, a dark note threading through my words.

Her smile falters for a second, replaced by an expression that’s far more heated. And just like that, we’re back in dangerous territory.

“Bend over my desk,” I command.

Without hesitation, Cora sashays toward me, her hips swaying provocatively. She’s playing this game just as much as I am, and fuck, she’s good at it.

She bends over the desk, flashing me a coy look over her shoulder, and I nearly lose it right then. Her ass, perfectly framed in that dress, looks even better than I imagined.

Fuck.

I can barely hold back as I rise from my chair. The fantasy I’ve been entertaining all morning, all through that mind-numbing and humiliating session, is becoming a reality. And the only thing on my mind is how good she’s going to look with my handprint on her ass.

My eyes are fixed on the curve of her hip as I grip the hem of her dress and yank it up, exposing her smooth, bare skin. She’s wearing black lace panties, and just the sight of them is enough to push me past my limit.

I pull open my drawer, fingers scrambling for a condom as I unbuckle my belt with the other hand. My breath is already ragged. The anticipation, the desire, thrums through my veins like fire.

Once I’ve rolled the condom on, I waste no time. I grab the thin lace of her panties, pulling them to the side with one hand, and run my fingers along her slit. She’s already drenched—so ready for me.

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