Page 12 of Sweetest Temptation
“That’s because I don’t just bake cakes, I create experiences. Taught by the best… My grandmother.” She smiled proudly.
I bit back another smile. She had no idea the kind of experience her presence alone was stirring up in this office. Clearing my throat, I nodded. “I’ll have my assistant review the proposal in detail and get back to you in a few days.”
Her shoulders eased, just a fraction, though her composure never slipped. “Thank you,” she replied softly.
I should’ve ended the meeting there, but curiosity got the better of me. “Tell me, what made you get into this? Alcohol-infused desserts?”
A small smile touched her lips. “Because alcohol has a way of loosening people, lowering walls. Pair it with something sweet, and you have a recipe for memory.”
“I bet it does,” I whispered, or so I thought.
“Excuse me?”
“I said, ‘Interesting perspective.’”
She gathered her folder, standing with a quiet grace. “I look forward to hearing from your team.”
When she extended her hand again, I took it, holding just long enough for the warmth to linger. “Your vision is strong, Ms. Pierce. Let’s see if we can make it a reality to remember.”
She didn’t respond as she began placing her photos back into her folder. I watched as she sashayed to my office door, opened it, and walked out. The door shut behind her, and the office felt emptier than before she’d walked in.
I sat back in my chair, simpering. Ms. Zanova really thought she played it cool. She thought she could pretend like she ain’t remember how I had her moaning a nigga name.
I can’t front—I thought her calm act was cute. But that little flicker in her eyes when our hands touched told me everything I needed to know. She remembered every damn second, and I’ll be damned if that didn’t make me want her all over again.
Icouldn’t believe it. Out of all the men in this damn city, it had to behim. The same man who gave me one of the best nights of my life, sexually, would make or break my current business goal. The one whose face I thought I’d never see again after I snuck out of that hotel room before sunrise. He would be the man who owns Fuego Azul.
When I stepped into that office and saw him, I damn near passed out. My stomach dropped, my palms went slick, and for a split second, a bitch prayed the floor would just open up and swallow me whole. I wanted to vanish at that moment.
He looked the same. His beard was a little thicker and rougher, but still fine as hell. It was crazy how a whole year passed, and I still got butterflies every time that man crossed my mind during that time. That tailored suit hugged him just right, tattoos peeking from the open collar of his shirt as if they had their own attitude. And that smirk? Lord, that smirk still didsomething to me. My pulse jumped like it was that night again, in the hotel.
And the way he kept staring into my eyes when he dragged his tongue across those thick lips, slow and smooth, my mind went straight to places it shouldn’t. I know he did that shit on purpose. For a split second, I wanted to jump across that damn desk and ride his face like I lost all my home training.
“Jesus, Zanova,” I muttered under my breath, shifting in my seat. “Get it together, girl. Ain’t no way in hell you about to let that man fuck you again.”
It was Friday, and since I didn’t have any cake orders, I opted to take the day off to do some cleaning, leaving my trusty employees to handle the bakery. By the time I finished cleaning my entire house, I had polished off a whole bottle of wine. I was tipsy and tired, but I still needed to get dinner started. I had some chicken legs marinating in the fridge and all I had to do was throw them in the oven, along with some potatoes. I’d put some asparagus in the steamer while I took my shower. Finishing my nighttime routine, I made my way downstairs with some spare luggage for Nyala and placed by the door. She wanted to borrow them for our trip to Ibiza. We were leaving in two weeks, and I was happy to be getting away, even if it was for work.
I was waiting for dinner to finish and decided to put on some music. Mary’s ”Your Child” came on, and I began to sing at the top of my lungs. Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the lyrics that spoke of heartbreak and confusion. I thought about the nights I spent wondering where Jerome was; the lies he told, and the moment I discovered the truth. The red flags were there. I was just so in love, I looked past all the deceit and manipulation.
The melody wrapped around me, a bittersweet reminder of the love that once was and the trust that was shattered. As Isang, I felt the ache in my chest intensify, but also a strange sense of release. The music became my solace, a way to express the turmoil I felt inside. The room seemed to hold its breath, absorbing my sorrow and offering a silent comfort. At that moment, I felt broken and needed to find strength. Suddenly, the music was cut off, breaking me from my personal concert when the man who was the cause of my heartbreak came strolling into the kitchen. Our eyes met, and the reality of my pain settled in once more.
“Really, Nova?” Jerome looked at me with squinting eyes. He knew when I had Mary playing, it was because he’d fucked up.
“What are you doing here? Did you just break into my house?”
“Don’t worry about how I got in. And why is your luggage by the door? Where are you going?”
“None of your damn business, nigga! Don’t worry about me. Now get the hell out of my house before I shoot your ass for trespassing.”
Jerome's eyes turned cold once he realized what I said. Before I could blink, Jerome lunged at me. I went to take a step back, but he was quick on his feet. He wrapped his hands around my neck and slammed my back against the counter. The blow knocked the wind out of me.
“Who do you think you are talking to? Huh? I’m tired of your slick-ass mouth!” he yelled with spit flying out of his mouth.
This nigga had me fucked up putting his hands on me. I reached for the pot of water I had on the stove and tossed it onto his face. It wasn’t scorching hot, but it did the trick. As he hollered, gasping for air, I pulled a knife from the drawer and pointed it at him.
“Nigga, are you crazy? Don’t you ever put your filthy hands on me! You ain’t Ike, and I damn sure ain’t Tina. I’ll cut your ass!”
“Nova, I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to do that. I don’t know what came over me. Please give me a chance to fix this and make things right.”
