by Ashley Jade
Needless to say, I was livid. I hit reply and told them the person they were looking for was my stepfather—not me. I figured I’d never hear back from them and I’d have to tell Cain to take care of it, but to my surprise, the app developer wrote back almost immediately, apologized for the mix-up, and then offered me a free yearly membership for all the trouble.
When I explained that—according to their terms and conditions—I wasn’t even old enough to use the app since I wasn’t eighteen yet, he said he wouldn’t tell anyone if I wouldn’t.
Then he sent me the private link to download the app.
As far as dating sites go, it’s pretty basic with a straightforward layout. There are a few chatrooms for people to connect and socialize and a private messaging option.
And other than the age requirement, there are only two rules. One—you can’t have a profile picture. And two—you can’t use your real name.
You can only disclose those things in a private message at your own discretion.
I didn’t have any interest in using it, but approximately two hours after joining Temptation—I received a message from some guy who lived in Black Hallows, was twenty-nine, involved in a career he wasn’t comfortable revealing…and knew tons of things about me.
According to his profile, he first joined the site a few hours before I did.
In other words—it’s obviously Cain. Although he still won’t admit it outright. Probably because the things we talk about on here aren’t always politically correct and he’s nervous about me or the app developers outing him.
It’s like a whole other life between us inside these chats. A glimpse of how it could be.
But I'm still angry at him for dissing me before.
Devil: How's my girl?
AngelBaby123: Shouldn't you be working? Or you know, busy grieving your deceased wife?
Devil: Can’t. I'm too busy thinking about a gorgeous blonde. A gorgeous blonde who’s legal in two more hours. :-P
I can’t help but laugh as I type my response.
AngelBaby123: Thinking of all the ways you’re going to corrupt and defile me, are you?
Devil: Always.
Devil: But enough about my devious intentions. How does my girl want to celebrate the best day in the world?
I get comfortable on the bed.
AngelBaby123: Movies with my lover. Double chocolate chip cookie dough.
Devil: I thought you were turning eighteen. Not eighty.
AngelBaby123: That’s hilarious coming from you, Grandpa.
Devil: More like Daddy. ;)
I bite my lip.
AngelBaby123: So are you finally admitting it's you?
Devil: I admit nothing. But if I was going to reveal my identity, I wouldn’t do it in a message.
AngelBaby123: Hmm. Then would it involve finishing what we started three weeks ago?
Devil: Maybe. Why don’t you send me a little something to jog my memory?
AngelBaby123: Like you don’t already have enough nudes of me.
Devil: What can I say? I’m a greedy bastard who can never get enough of you or your fantastic tits.
Devil: Why don’t you be a good girl and venture farther south for me this time.
My cheeks heat. I’ve sent him topless pictures—minus my face—because I’m not dumb enough to put that into cyberspace, but I haven't gone further than that.
Devil: You don’t have to.
AngelBaby123: How about this…I’d rather show you in person.
I chew my thumbnail, a nervous habit of mine, and wait for him to respond.
Cain's weird when it comes to our little chats. He won't discuss them in person and the one and only time I made the mistake of alluding to talking to him late at night, he looked at me like I sprouted another head.
I’ve concluded that him not talking about us outside the chat, or admitting it's him inside the chat is his way of making sure he can trust me. I think he wants to ensure I can keep a secret before we take it any further. I’m guessing it’s why he concocted this whole plan in the first place, even though he won’t admit it.
AngelBaby123: You there?
When he doesn’t answer after five minutes, I send him another message.
AngelBaby123: Is everything okay?
Devil: Sorry, baby. Had to take care of something. Where were we?
AngelBaby123: It’s cool. I was about to take care of some things myself. Catch you later.
Devil: You’re upset.
A little.
AngelBaby123: No.
Devil: I forgot how sensitive you are and how much you hate being ignored.
Cain’s perceptive as it is, but it’s downright eerie how much better he can read me through a phone screen.
AngelBaby123: I'm fine.
Devil: Okay, tough girl. But just so you know, I’m the same way.
AngelBaby123: I hate how you do that.
Devil: Do what?
AngelBaby123: Know me better than I know myself.
Devil: Why do you hate it?
AngelBaby123: Because it makes me feel weak. Like you have the upper hand and we're on an uneven playing field.
Devil: I wasn't aware we were playing a game.
AngelBaby123: We're not. I just hate feeling like you know more about me than I know about you.
Devil: What do you want to know about me?
I type and delete my response over five times before I have the courage to send it. I know almost everything there is to know about Cain…except for one thing that’s been bugging me ever since I heard about it.
AngelBaby123: Where were you the night the fire happened that killed your family?
AngelBaby123: Are you there?
AngelBaby123: Hello?
His username turns gray…informing me he signed out of the app.
Chapter 4
Cain
The last thing I need right now is a scandal.
Correction—the last thing I need is to go up to her bedroom.
Yet, here I am…walking up the stairs. Heading straight for the Devil’s playground.
One mistake three weeks ago turned Eden from my sick little fantasy …to my greatest liability.
It was hard enough not to think about her before that night…but it’s been impossible not to think about her since.
I’m so fucked.
She’s lying on her bed when I walk in—phone in hand, a cute little pout on her pretty face; like she’s waiting for someone to respond.
She’s been preoccupied with her phone a lot over the last two weeks, which wouldn’t be weird for any other girl her age, but Eden has never been what you would call normal. She has a lot of issues that prevent her from making and keeping friends.
She has a lot of issues that make people take advantage of her.
Which is why crossing the line was wrong on all accounts. She might be eighteen in a few hours, but I’m supposed to be the adult in this situation.
Then again, Eden’s more mature than most adults in this town. Unlike them, she’s not the type to spread false stories or go out of her way to hurt anyone.
Which is probably why her mother resented her so much. Karen was incredibly smart, sure; but she wasn’t a lot of other things. Things like kind, loyal, and charismatic. Things that make a person likable.
In other words, all the things Eden is.
I clear my throat to get her attention, fighting a bout of annoyance because I’m used to having it the moment I walk into a room.
She narrows her eyes. “Did you need something?”
Eden is sweeter than sugar when she wants to be, but she’s also sassy as hell when she’s upset. It’s all I can do not to laugh because Eden being mad is the equivalent of a baby cub roaring.
She’s all bark and no bite.
“I got rid of the reporter.” I stick my hands in my pockets so I’m not tempted to touch her. “I also made a few phone calls. Let’s just say she won’t be conducting any more interviews.”
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Thanks in part to my family and my deceased wife’s contacts, I have a few connections. Although few is putting it mildly. I know enough of the right people I’m able to run for mayor before I turn thirty…despite all the rumors and black marks of my past.
Which is why I relate to Eden so much. I know first-hand how poisonous Black Hallows can be. I know how it feels to have an entire town talk about you and your family behind your back but never to your face.
But unlike Eden, who hasn’t built an outer shell because her mother kept her hidden away to protect her own precious reputation—I was able to rise above it and come out on top.
However, we’ll both fall down if anyone ever finds out what transpired between us.
It’s bad enough everyone in Black Hallows already speculates about our relationship, given how close in age we are—and Eden’s past, thanks to that inappropriate teacher of hers.
It’s a shame he wasn’t put behind bars, because it was obvious to anyone with a pulse he was grooming her and only a matter of time before he did something heinous.
It really goes to show it’s not what you know in this town, it’s who you know. That pervert happened to be the nephew of a powerful judge, which had my wife—the DA who only earned her position because of her own manipulative ways—backing down and turning on her own kid.
The day Karen died, I promised myself two things. One—when I became mayor, I’d piss on her grave for being such a cunt to Eden. And two—I’d help Eden overcome her demons any way I could.
But it’s hard to do that when everyone around you thinks you must be sticking your dick in your stepdaughter.
It’s even harder when they’re not exactly wrong...because you’ve had the urge to make those rumors a reality for the last year.
With a sigh, I walk around her bedroom. Being so close to her when she’s lying on a bed isn’t good for my self-control. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to do those interviews. I’m sorry.”
Given people in town haven’t seen Eden in years because her disorders prevent her from stepping outside, I thought arranging a few interviews with the local media here at the house would be a good thing.
For her…and me.
But it backfired once they started publishing pictures of her.
Younger Eden was already a Lolita in their minds. But older Eden is everything wives’ nightmares and men’s wet dreams are made of.
Like temptation and sin wrapped up in a beautiful bow.
Long blonde hair, big blue eyes, pouty lips, curvy ass, legs for days, and a rack that makes a man curse and thank God every Sunday at his local church.
And don’t get me started on the tight holy grail between her creamy thighs.
Fuck.
Blowing out a breath, I force myself to stop thinking with the wrong head. Screwing my stepdaughter is out of the question. No matter how much I want to.
And after this weekend, hopefully the gossip—and my hunger— regarding me and Eden will clear up for good.
Eden doesn’t know yet, because I haven’t the heart nor the want to break it to her—but I have an arrangement with Margaret Bexley. Or rather, her governor father, who happened to be an old friend of my father’s.
Milton Bexley’s not only filtering a shit-ton of money into my campaign on the low, he’s not so secretly hoping I’ll take his place one day since he doesn’t have any sons, and his only daughter Margaret is more interested in being a Stepford wife to a politician than she is in actual politics.
On paper, the situation is perfect. Eons better than the arrangement I had with Karen—the one I stupidly accepted due to being young and impulsive.
I just have to tread carefully because perception is everything in this town. If I jump into a relationship with the governor’s daughter too quickly, people will think I’m only doing it for political gain.
But if I continue living as a widow with my gorgeous stepdaughter who’s locked up like a princess in a tower…it will only perpetuate gossip and make them uneasy.
And if they have any room for doubt about my character when it’s time to vote, I won’t have theirs.
I’ve worked my ass off for this for a long time now, waiting for the perfect moment to toss my hat into the ring. I couldn’t run while still married to Karen, due to more than half the people in town hating her. Unfortunately, divorcing her before running would have been career suicide since Karen wasn’t the type who would take me leaving her lying down. She’d already threatened me with one hell of a smear campaign revolving around Eden if I ever ended things and ran for mayor. She wasn’t keen on her show dog husband having more power than she did.
The fact that she was willing to drag her own mentally fragile daughter into the spotlight after the same town already chewed her up and spit her out just to ruin me speaks volumes.
Then again, Karen was ruthless.
Almost as ruthless as…
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I grit my teeth.
Not a day goes by that I’m not reminded of Damien King, given his obsession with me ruined my life twelve years ago.
Last I heard, he was a successful hedge fund investor with more money than God and was living halfway around the world on some exotic island…which suits me perfectly fine.
Because if I ever see him again…I can’t guarantee I won’t kill him.
There’s a reason people in this town refer to him as the Devil.
The man is pure evil. A psychopath if there ever was one.
“Cain? Are you okay?”
Eden’s voice brings me out of my thoughts and I look down at my hands which are clenched so tight they’re white. “Fine.”
I turn to leave, but her next sentence halts me. “Is this how it’s going to be between us now?”
I can’t have this conversation with her. “I don’t know what—”
“Yes, you do.” She sits up in bed. “You’ve barely spoken to me in person since that night, and when you do you talk right through me like I’m another item on your business agenda you need to cross off.”
“I—” I’m at a loss for words. There are so many things I want to tell her, but she won’t understand or accept any of them.
She won’t understand how I’m trying to save us both by not throwing any more logs into the fire between us.
She won’t understand that if we get involved and we’re found out…I’ll resent her for ruining my second chance and she won’t have anyone else to take care of her.
She doesn’t know I’ve already made the mistake of getting involved with someone I shouldn’t have and paid the ultimate price for it…and I won’t let history repeat itself.
“Why do you keep messing with my head?” Her voice wobbles. “I’m not something you can use.”
“Eden.” I wait for her to look at me because I need her to get this through her head for once and all. “I’m sorry I hurt you, but that night was a mistake. Please try and understand.”
She draws her knees up to her chest. “Was it a mistake because you’re scared of people finding out…or because you don’t want me?”
There’s no easy way to navigate her question. If I tell her the former, she’ll think there’s hope when there’s not. But if I tell her the latter, I’ll hurt her.
Cupping her cheek, I tell her the only thing I can. “The reason doesn’t matter. The result is still the same.”
“No, it’s not. What if we didn’t live in Black Hallows anymore? What if we left and—”
“No,” I growl because she’s not comprehending what I’m saying and it’s starting to remind me of someone I’d rather forget. “No matter where we go, people will know who I am because that’s what my job calls for. And sooner or later they’ll figure out who you are too.”
“I guess that leaves secret option three.” She closes her eyes and sighs. “I’m not important enough to give up politics for.”
She’s not wrong. Politics have been in my blood since the moment I took m
y first breath…literally. My father was a senator and my older brother had just been accepted to Harvard and was on the same political track I was when they died. Even my mother—who I don’t remember much of because she passed away when I was three—was a successful campaign manager for government officials.
While all the other boys I grew up with were interested in sports and parties, I was interested in student council and the debate team, trying to make a difference and put my mark on the world.
My father, who ruled with an iron fist, both figuratively and physically; had my future political career mapped out since I was a child. It was the only thing we ever agreed on.
“I don’t think a relationship works well when one has to sacrifice an integral part of who they are to make the other happy.” I cradle both her cheeks. “Besides, do you really want to be kept hidden away for the rest of your life? That’s no way to live, Eden.”
“What if that’s exactly what I want?”
“You only want it because it’s all you’ve ever known.” I run my thumb over her cheekbone. “There’s a whole big world out there for you to discover. So many experiences waiting for you.”
“I don’t want the world,” she whispers and the muscles in my chest draw tight. “I only want you. All I’ve ever wanted was you.”
Christ, this girl. She has a way of looking at me like I’m personally responsible for making the sun rise and set every day.
She has a way of making me feel like I’m her God. And fuck if there’s not a small part of me that doesn’t revel in it.
“You never wished me happy birthday.”
The change of subject throws me and I check my watch. “Technically your birthday isn’t for another ten minutes.” I wink. “I’m not that old. I still have a few more years before senility sets in.”