"Then why would there be photos of us together?" His left thumb slides a few centimeters beneath the waistband of my pants, and that tiny indecent touch sends waves of need through me. His right reaches behind him, pulling out his phone and flashing me pictures of the two of us from the night in 2021 I've tried countless times to forget.
How ironic it is that he's the one who has no recollection of that night, instead of me.
"Those galas always have like-" I shudder out a breath, "They have, umm, professional photographers. You probably share pictures with half the city. Not that anyone would admit that now."
“Mmm.”
I can't think clearly enough to tell if the sound he made was one of thought or approval. The longer his hands are on my skin, the further I melt into little more than a bundle of sensitivity.
"And the job?"
"You needed a corporate lawyer," I shrug, "I wasn't qualified."
Not a complete lie, but certainly not the whole truth either.
I wasn't the right fit for the job, and that's what matters.
Easing off from the mind-shattering pressure, he looks at me with a serious expression. "Do you have the written offer anywhere?"
I shrug a single shoulder, "Probably in my office down the hall."
As terrified as I am, deep down I know he's probably even worse. He's missing so much time. And if one of the few leads he has to follow is our minuscule interactions, I can't even imagine what it's like to be living in his head right now.
"I wish I could be more helpful," I tell him honestly. "But we weren't anything to each other."
He laughs again, shaking his head incredulously, "Fucking hell."
"Sorry," I offer.
"Nah, don't be. It's for the best, really. It wouldn't be fair if you remembered our first kiss and I didn't," Cormac teases, staring at my lips intently.
For a moment, my brain scrambles to keep up with what he's saying, then it stops working altogether when his warm, soft mouth meets mine. The firm, commanding pressing of his lips sends shockwaves through my system, leaving me frozen until I can think somewhat clearly.
A surprised, furious gasp escapes my lips, and my hands come up on instinct, landing on his chest to push him away.
Before I can put any effort into shoving him, his tongue swipes against my open lips, the taunting touch both a dare and a plea. It can't be any secret that I'm attracted to him even though I'm equally terrified. My body's obvious reaction to his nearness spurred him on, even if I hadn't silently allowed his explorative, decadent touches.
My brows furrow, every part of me at war, my rational mind not wanting to give in, but my entire body screaming that we should, thatnothingandno onewill ever feel this good again. It whispers that my need for something darker has led me here, even if I didn't know this was where I was headed.
A frustrated whimper slips from my mouth, and Cormac's answering smile brushes against my mouth as he holds me captive with the kiss.
His hands find their home cradling my face, firmly directing me as his lips force mine apart and his hot tongue slips against mine, the deep, slow slide forcing my mouth open obscenely, slanting our mouths together as he burrows inside of my fucking soul with his tongue.
A groan radiates from his chest that I can feel from my fingertips pressed there all the way into my core.
His kiss wholly possesses me, leaving my muscles languid as if I've been drugged, unable to push him away or pull him closer.
Another filthy slide of his tongue forces me to moan, and he swallows it down, emboldened by my reaction. His mouth devours mine, the hot muscle pressing between my teeth over and over, dragging more pathetic, needy sounds from me until I lose myself in this touch that I swore just a moment ago I didn't want.
His hips push into mine, and the evidence of how affected he is by the kiss sends another hot spike of need into my pussy. He groans again, grinding his hard cock into the soft flesh of my hip, so close to where I need it but not close enough to reallyfeelhim.
Suddenly, he pulls away, holding my face captive, staring down at me with heat blazing in his eyes and an almost arrogant smirk on his kiss-soaked mouth.
"So you're telling me," he licks his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth as he stares unabashedly at mine. "It wasn't like this before? That my touch didn't leave you as soaking wet as you are now?"
There's no point in lying and pretending I'm not. There's no denying that I'm a fucking livewire and drenching my panties, my body aching for more kisses, more harsh fingerprints laved into my skin, more of his dick pressed against me, and justmore.
Through heaving breaths, I shake my head.
