Page 53 of Tempted By Eden

I blink at her, trying to process her request through the alcohol fog. My stomach lurches, and I swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth, fighting the urge to be sick. The last thing I want to do is get behind the wheel of a car right now. But Hailee’s eyes are wide, pleading, and then she drops the kicker.

“I need it to take my sister to the doctor in the morning,” she adds, her voice small and desperate.

Shit.

I know what it’s like to have a family member who needs you. Taking a slow breath, I nod. “Okay, but it’s really just around the corner, right?”

“Yup! I swear,” she promises, wobbling on her heels.

I help her to the car, my stomach flipping with every step. Then I slide into the driver’s seat and grip the steering wheel, my knuckles white as I fight to keep the world from spinning. I close my eyes for a second, hoping that will help.

When I open them again, I start the ignition and carefully pull out onto the street. Soft snores fill the car and I glance over at Hailee. Of course she’s passed out. Her mouth is hanging open and a thread of saliva drips onto her shoulder.

I tap the “home” button on the car’s navigation system, relieved to see she wasn’t exaggerating—it’s only a few minutes away.

I keep my focus laser-sharp on the road, willing myself to make it without throwing up or passing out. But just as I start to relax, the shrill sound of a siren blares behind me.

Oh, no.

I glance in the rearview mirror and see the flashing lights of a police car. My heart drops to my feet.

Fuck.

I quickly signal and pull over to the side of the road, my hands shaking on the steering wheel. My head is pounding, and nausea twists my insides.

I wait… and wait.

I look in the rearview mirror again.

What the hell are they doing?

I’m sweating profusely as my body burns hotter than the sun. Sweat is dripping down my back and in between my boobs as my stomach twists in agony.

The officer finally approaches the car and I roll down my window. He leans down to peer inside, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Hailee slumped in the passenger seat. I can feel the bile rising, but I clench my teeth, willing it back down.

Not now. Please, not now.

“Ma’am,” he starts. But before he can say anything else, my body betrays me. I lean out of the window just in time to vomit—violently—over the officer’s shoes.

Oh. My. God.

He swears under his breath, and I want to disappear, to sink into the earth and never come back. But I can’t stop retching. When I’m finally done, I slump back in the seat, mortified, my head spinning. I’d give my left tit to be anywhere else right now. After a few seconds, I know I can’t delay the inevitable any longer, so I gradually open my eyes. The officer stares at me, his expression a mix of horror and concern.

“Ma’am, please step out of the vehicle.”

Chapter twenty-eight

Cora

James strides into thepolice station like he owns the place. Each crisp clack of his shoes on the linoleum carries an air of authority that immediately turns heads. There’s a subtle, commanding swagger in the way he moves, and it’s impossible not to take note. Even the police officers at the front desk look up, their posture stiffening as if they’ve been caught slacking off. The line of civilians waiting for their turn at the counter doesn’t faze him. James bypasses them all, heading straight to the front of the queue.

No one questions him—not the people in line, not the officers, no one. They recognize power when they see it. He is the kind of man people don’t confront.

I slouch in the corner of the waiting room, the hard-plastic chair digging into my back. The scent of stale coffee and disinfectant hangs in the air, and the fluorescent lights overhead buzz like a swarm of flies. I feel safe watching him from a distance. But my heart gives an involuntary jump the second his eyes land on me. There’s a hint of something in his gaze—relief? But then his jaw tightens, and his eyes travel over my body, inspecting me. Once he’s satisfied, he locks onto my eyes, and I’m caught in the power of his stare.

My pulse quickens. There’s a promise in that look—punishment. My skin heats at the thought. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, suddenly all too aware of how horrible I must look—my makeup smudged, hair tangled with remnants of vomit, bloodshot eyes. I must look like shit.

But still, the mental image of James bending me over his knee and pulling my panties down to spank my ass red sparks a dark thrill in me. Pressure builds within me, anticipation prickling along my skin. His lips twitch into a knowing smirk as if he can read my filthy thoughts.

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