Page 175 of A Forgotten Promise

“Thank you, Ivy. You’re such an inspiration.” I shake her hand.

Her gaze, filled with adoration, follows her husband. “They say there is a woman behind every man’s success, but I think it works the other way. We’re often so insecure that it takes a domineering asshole to force us out of our safe cocoon.”

And suddenly, I know how to spend my first paycheck. Or some of it, anyway.

“Is everything okay?” Corm rounds his desk to meet me as I enter his office, rushing to me. He stops abruptly.

We’re now sleeping together, but he’s been very respectful to me outside the house. Like he’s waiting for me to truly commit before he hugs or kisses me out in the open. Perhaps he’s trying to protect himself. Or just being as confused as me.

I don’t think I’m confused anymore.

I snake my arms around his waist. “Nothing is wrong.”

He startles, but immediately responds to my touch and wraps me in a hug, kissing me. Just a peck on the mouth, but I dart my tongue out.

He doesn’t need more of an invitation. A guttural sound rumbles through his chest before he dives into the kiss.

It’s a perfect kiss. Full of need and relief. Filled with urgency, and an equal amount of peace. It’s a kiss to remember.

To never forget.

It’s like we came together after a long dance of hesitancy and darkness, and suddenly, the kiss brings the light. To our hearts and our souls.

“What a pleasant surprise.” He cups my face and stares at me.

His gaze, as always, starts small explosions all over my body. I almost forget why I came here.

“I got my first paycheck, and I’m treating you to lunch. Larissa says you’re available.”

“You’re taking me for lunch?”

“Yes.”

“Is it my magical cock?”

“Definitely.” I turn to leave, before we end up testing the magic of his cock.

“I should have fucked you the minute you woke up.”

I snort, but my retort dies on my lips. “What is this?”

I’m not sure why I’m asking since it’s obvious. A large black-and-white candid photograph by one of the most sought-after photographers hangs on the wall above the sofa. It fits the space perfectly.

I remember when it was taken. I remember why I was laughing. I remember signing the release form for it.

“It’s a photograph I got at a charity auction.” He turns to get his jacket, avoiding my eyes.

I bite my lips, a grin forming. “But that was like two or three years ago.”

“Yes.”

“Did you get any other pieces at that auction?”

The photographer donated a collection for that event and called me afterward to tell me that mine went for double the amount of any of the other pieces. I didn’t think much of it. I was overbooked at that time, so I was happy my face got more money for a good cause.

“No.”

I don’t hide my grin anymore. “And you had it here for years?”

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