Tempted
762 Words
Ryland
The second she stepped through the gates, I knew I was in trouble.
Krystal’s wide eyes took in the estate like she’d just walked into a damn fairytale. The golden lights, the sharp, modern architecture—everything about this place screamed power and wealth, and she looked like she was drinking it all in, committing every f*****g detail to memory.
And then there was the smell.
Vanilla. No—something richer, deeper. Like caramel with a hint of spice. It hit me the second I got close, damn near knocking the sense out of me.
Fuck.
I barely resisted the urge to reach out, to press my face against the crook of her neck and just f*****g inhale. The thought of tasting her, teasing her, somewhere private where no one could f*****g interrupt—it gnawed at me, sharp and relentless.
Not yet.
I clenched my jaw, holding myself in check as she stepped forward, completely unaware of the war raging in my head.
Inside, the warmth of the house wrapped around us instantly. And then—
“Krystal, sweetheart!”
My mother’s voice rang through the foyer, the kind of warmth dripping from it that made people forget she could devour CEOs for breakfast and still make it home in time for dinner.
Krystal turned just in time for my mom to pull her into a hug, squeezing her like she was some long-lost daughter. It was almost funny how f*****g deceiving my mother could be. Here, she was the picture of maternal grace. In the boardroom? A goddamn executioner.
“Nice to finally meet you,” she said, pulling back to cup Krystal’s face like she was some delicate f*****g thing.
Krystal, to her credit, just smiled. “You too, Mrs. Johansson.”
“Oh, none of that. Call me Gabriella.”
Travis came barreling in next, laughing as he practically tackled my mother in a hug. And f**k, if it didn’t hit me in a place I wasn’t ready to deal with. The warmth, the familiarity—
Yeah. Clawed right into me.
Mom ran a hand through Travis’s hair before turning back to me. “Ryland, be a dear and show Krystal to her room, will you?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, just linked arms with Travis and strode off, already deep in some conversation about business.
And just like that, I was left alone with her.
Again.
I let out a slow exhale, turning to find Krystal watching me with that sharp f*****g gaze of hers. Like she could see right through me.
“Come on,” I muttered, jerking my head toward the staircase. “Try to keep up.”
She rolled her eyes but followed. And f**k, that was a mistake.
The way she walked? Sinful. Those hips swayed with every step, not even on purpose, just naturally taunting me. Mocking me. I let my eyes drag down, tracing every curve, every little shift of muscle under those tight-ass jeans.
Jesus f*****g Christ.
By the time we reached the guest room, I was barely holding onto my sanity. I shoved the door open, motioning for her to step inside.
She did, turning on her heel to face me with a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Ryland.”
And f**k, those lips.
Plush, pink, slightly parted.
All I could think about was what they’d feel like under mine.
Her eyes flicked over me, her gaze landing on my face before her lips quirked up at the corner. “Like what you see?”
The tease was light, playful. But it sent a sharp f*****g pulse straight down to my d**k.
I smirked, leaning against the doorframe like I wasn’t seconds away from pinning her against that damn bed. “I’ve seen better.”
Her face fell—just a fraction, barely there—but I f*****g saw it. And just as quick, she masked it, straightening. “No doubt about it.”
The lightness in her tone was forced.
And I f*****g hated it.
Before I could say anything, she muttered a quick, “Goodnight,” and shut the door in my face, locking it with a soft click.
I clenched my fists, exhaling harshly through my nose.
Fucking i***t.
I wanted to rip that door open, to tell her she was the best f*****g thing I’d laid eyes on, to touch her exactly where she wanted to be touched.
Instead, I groaned, running a hand down my face and turning toward my own room.
This was going to be a long f*****g night.
- Writer
