Eden's Temptation

Chapter Twenty

I thought I was the first personal assistant she'd ever been so intimate with. The only one. I thought I was her only forbidden fling, her only jaunt into such a spicy, sinful affair.

As it turned out, I wasn't.

I was a fool. Such a naive fool to think that way.

I didn't realize where I was going until I arrived in the lobby of Silver's building, panting. The security guards looked at me as if I had a few screws loose; at that point, I didn't disagree with them.

I'd hardly had time to snag my phone but took nothing else with me. Without a word, I barged outside, breathing in the cool fall air as I gasped, heaved, cried, all at once.

People passing by watched me with caution, as if I were some drugged up rando about to engage them for money; so I took off.

I walked. Walked. Walked. No clue where I was going, no notion of how much time passed. Nothing in mind but a blank screen as I kept advancing, passersby a blur of dark colors as I moved past them.

By the time I slowed down and let my thoughts catch up with me, I'd arrived in Central Park. And that was quite a way from Silver's southern Manhattan location.

I took up the first empty bench I found and slumped onto it, folding atop my thighs, letting loose all the tears. Frustration, confusion, fear, unrequited lust. It all poured out as I gathered up the fragments of my conversation with Silver.

Why was I so flustered? Was it because Silver lied to me, left a lot of pertinent information out as she took me on as her assistant? So many times, she'd had a chance to come clean, to tell me why she was so wary of our connection.

She might have stopped me from entering her room earlier this week. She might have not dropped her towel and exposed her pretty pussy to me, showed how wet and willing she was for me to touch her. Had she not opted to masturbate in front of me, but instead explained to me why she couldn't...would we have ended up here?

Or when she snuck into the walk-in closet and glossed her eyes over me in that emerald dress, why hadn't she pulled away, used restraint? She said she was bad at that; so why hadn't she warned me of this before she slid her fingertips over my skin, causing goosebumps?

Before she crept her fingers under my dress, up my thigh, and straight into my aroused center?

"Fuck," I said, rocking back and forth. I figured those frequenting the park would worry I'd escaped a psych ward, and someone would call the cops soon.

I was a wreck of emotions—a tumultuous mess of fury towards Silver, but brewing lust towards her, too. Fearful of her and the power she harbored, but so incredibly turned on by her confidence and skill.

My rage was unwarranted, I knew that. And yet...everything about this woman heightened all my senses.

And then came the flashes of him. This nondescript, male personal assistant who'd worked for her before me. I had no idea what kind of man Silver liked; before today, I wasn't aware she liked men at all.

Was he small, soft, sweet with words, a Casanova poet who whispered sonnets in her ear and wooed her into bed? A gentle lover, who caressed her skin and complimented her generous curves as he fucked her slowly in the moonlight?

Or was he a large, bulky hunk of a man who cornered her in dark rooms and slid his enormous cock into her, tugging her hair back as he nibbled on her neck? As she screamed for more, and he pumped until her legs couldn't hold her up any longer?

What kind of man was he, and how had he coerced Silver into breaking rules and skirting the lines of danger?

The more I thought of it, the more this man's made-up features in my mind started to turn me on. I didn't want that; I was still livid, still had boundless anger to let out before I calmed down.