Page 46 of Forbidden Vows

I stand before the alley, sliding my slippery shoes to part. He approaches, rolling the ball right through my legs. I glance over my shoulder, watching all the pins fall with a satisfying crash.

“Strike!” He grabs me in his arms. “What do I win?”

I squirm from his hold, my heart racing from the unexpected physical contact and the rush to strike. "You win the satisfaction of not embarrassing yourself," I quip, trying to keep my voice steady despite how his proximity makes my heart race.

He chuckles, a deep rumble in his chest that reverberates through me. "Fair enough," he concedes, releasing me but not stepping back. Instead, he leans against the ball return with casual confidence and easy charm.

I take a deep breath, ignoring how my pulse thrums erratically. When it's my turn, I hit a few pins each time, not playing nearly as well as I did at first.

“Your turn, Bro.” I smile.

He picks up his ball, his piercing eyes never leaving mine as he walks up the lane. He sends the ball sailing smoothly down the wooden surface with a practiced wrist flick. It hits the pins with a satisfying crash, scattering them in all directions.

The last remaining pins wobble uncertainly before falling, leaving only one standing. He turns back to me with a smug grin, his confidence unwavering.

"Looks like I win this round, too.” He saunters over to me.

I raise an eyebrow, not one to back down easily. "Don't get too cocky, now," I retort, trying to keep up my playful facade.

He closes the distance between us in an instant. His hand gently cups my cheek, and without warning, his lips find mine in a deep kiss. For a moment, time stands still as we lose ourselves in one another. The world around us fades away, and the rapid beating of my heart thrums in my ears.

When we finally pull away, his eyes are dark with desire, mirroring my emotions.

“Looks like I win again,” he murmurs, his voice husky with unspoken promises.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” I wrap my arms around his neck. I’ve wondered something since we stepped foot in this magnificent house yesterday, and I want to know the answer. “When we first arrived and you were giving me a tour, you mentioned you hadn’t shown it to anyone.” I gaze up at him. “What were you waiting for?”

“I was waiting for you. I wanted you to see it first.” He closes in, his lips against mine, making me crave more of his kiss. “But you already knew the answer, didn’t you?”

His words send a powerful sensation through me, one I can’t name, something that hides somewhere between longing and belonging.

“I had my suspicions,” I whisper. “But I wasn’t sure it was true.”

He gives me earnest eyes. “Have you ever known me to lie?”

“No, you don’t lie,” I agree. Things are getting heavy; the heat between our entwined bodies is rising. I lighten the mood. “Sometimes you wiggle a bit.”

“Wiggle a bit?” he laughs. “What does that mean?”

“When girls come up to you, and you’re trying to be polite but aren’t interested.” I wiggle my butt. “You kinda wiggle out of the situation.”

“I’d like to see you wiggle this adorable ass of yours some more.” He reaches over, smoothing a hand over my silky ass, then gives it a hearty smack. He glances over a door on the far side of the room. “There’s another room in this basement.”

“What kind of room?” I ask.

“Wanna see?”

My heart thumps in my chest. Ofcoursehe has a secret sex lair in his basement.Do I want to see?My hand is in his, and he leads me across the polished floors. I can hear my pulse as we approach that door.

He pauses just outside, his hand resting on the doorknob. He looks back at me, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Ready?" he asks, his voice low and inviting. I nod, my breath catching in my throat as he turns the knob and pushes open the door.

The room is dimly lit, with the soft glow of recessed lighting casting long shadows across the plush carpeting. It's larger than I expected, featuring a high ceiling and walls lined with dark, velvety wallpaper.

“So, this is your real lair,” I say. “It has to be. It’s behind a black door.”

“You’re right.” He gazes over it with pride. “If I had a room I called a lair, this room would be the one.”

A large bed sits in the center of the room—the kind of bed that modern-day royalty would have, extravagant and indulgent. A dark green velvet chaise lounge occupies one corner, its curves elegant and inviting, alongside a black leather padded bench in another. Hanging from the walls are various pieces of equipment whose purposes I can only guess at.

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