Page 2 of Savage Temptation

My feet were off the ground, and my body was safe and guarded by the most incredible feeling of warmth that smelled like oak and fresh trouble.

What the hell?

My hand flew to the arm around me, holding onto this perfect stranger for dear life. Strong arms and the fine threads of a perfect suit pulsed under my touch as I hovered in the air.

I was suddenly staring into a pair of hypnotizing, long-lash, emerald green eyes. His stern glare seemed to pierce through my flesh and see straight into my soul, melting away all and any coherent thoughts.

No blink or words to stain the moment.

Truth be said, I couldn't speak if I tried. He seemed to be studying me, a deep frown on his face hiding concern or maybe confusion. It was damn intimidating but so alluring. I was totally lost in the intensity of this stranger’s unwavering stare.

Those eyes, the strong grip around my waist, the feeling of those strong muscles under my fingertips.

All of it was sending a strange feeling down my spine before it settled in my stomach.

He was so close I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face. Under this spell, the busy streets of New York had gone void and quiet.

My daze ended just as quickly as it started.

The tight grip loosened, and I stumbled back onto my feet. Strangely, I found myself wanting to be there again.

"Watch where the fuck you're walking!" His low, menacing voice blurted with palpable irritation, catching me off guard.

After the stare-off we just shared, I was counting on something... a little more charming? I sensed the tension, and I was almost positive that I saw him shake his head before speaking as if he was trying to snap out of his thoughts.

"Oh! Forgive me, Your Highness, king and ruler of New York City!” My sarcasm was not masked, heightened by my mock bow in fake submission. “Maybe next time you should try watching where the fuck you’re going!" I tried to match his words, but somehow mine fell short in comparison. Seemed he was much better versed in cruelty than I was.

"Watch it!” He gruffly warned, but his attention was quickly dispersed beyond me. His neck craned as he scanned our surroundings as if he were searching for something or someone. I didn't follow his motion. Not even those crude words were enough to break the stars still shining in my eyes. I should be wise to recognize those red flags by now, but I couldn't help but crave those eyes back on me.

“Or what?” I defied, catching his attention. I dealt with a bully my whole life, and I knew I was pushing it, but there was something about him that didn’t inspire any kind of fear in me. The pristine three-piece suit he wore did nothing to tame the dark and dangerous vibe he had going on.

“Brats don’t do too well in this part of town. You might want to adjust your attitude,” he said, taking a step forward, the most basic of the basic intimidation tactics.

“Sorry it doesn’t cater to your ego, Sir. Now, if you and your high horse don’t mind stepping aside, I have places to be.” I was poking the bull. Sometimes my stupidity knew no boundaries. What the hell was wrong with me?

“Just fucking great! Now I'll have to go back to that never-ending line," he grunted, pointing at the iced coffee stain on my white blouse, his paper cup soiling the sidewalk.

My eyes widened in disbelief.

This can’t be happening!

I would never have time to go back home to change. I couldn't go like this to a possible life-changing interview, either.

Anger welled tears in my eyes as my gaze swerved from the brown stain to him and back.

“Don’t worry, Sweetcheeks. At least now we all smell the coffee before the country girl on your clothes.”

Whatever sass I had in me left my body as I registered the disaster this could be.

“You ruined it!” I yelled while more tears started prickling behind my eyes.

Pushing him out of my way, I darted towards a café across the street.

"Asshole!" I shouted almost from the middle of the road with rigid arms and clenched fists. I was trying as hard as I could not to let these tears fall at the possibility of losing this opportunity because of some entitled fucker. “Bathroom, please?” I asked the barista, who simply pointed to his left to a pair of black doors.

I ran into the bathroom, praying I could clean up the mess that dickhead had made all over my clothes and still make it to AD on time.

People shouldn’t judge on appearance alone. I just learned that two minutes ago when a Greek God who saved me from a bruised ass turned out to be nothing but an insufferable idiot. Yet that same principle doesn’t apply when you’re being reviewed like I was going to be in a few minutes.

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