Page 78 of Protected By the Sinner
“Jesus, Amber. It only gets better. How is that even possible?”
I have no answer for that, because for me, there’s only this moment—as if it were the very first time. So instead ofmourning what I’ve forgotten, I choose to relearn every inch of him.
To memorize him, taste him, and revel in the arms of the man I love.
Chapter 35
“I love you, Beau,” she repeats while riding me, owning me, lost in her own pleasure.
With her beautiful eyes closed, Amber is completely absorbed in us, repeating those words like a mantra, teaching me something that instantly becomes my favorite song.
I slide one hand down her belly, caressing the small swell where our child is growing.
She opens her eyes and laces our fingers together.
We’ve had sex plenty of times before, but I don’t think we’ve ever made love. The explosive chemistry between us was always ruled by urgency—but tonight, I need to feel her.
I grab her shoulders and pull her close, giving and receiving, sinking into her soft warmth, my version of heaven on earth.
There’s no rush in the way we move, no rush in the moans we share, and yet there’s still the wild urgency only she can stir in me.
“You’re mine,” I say, my mouth refusing to obey the rational thoughts trying to interfere with this surrender.
“Yes, I am, because I love you, Beau. Only you. I might never remember anything else, but I know I love you.”
“I’m crazy about you, Amber.”
I thrust into her, diving not just into her body but into us, letting go of pride, silently swearing that I forgive her. And finally, I admit that I don’t want to keep her just because she’s carrying my child.
I don’t want to live without her.
After the third time we make love, Amber passes out cold.
I turn on the light and watch her sleep for over an hour.
Then I go downstairs to the library to think.
There’s no way I can get anything done with her naked body beside me, that long hair spilling over our pillows, those perfect lips parted slightly.
It’s late, and I know I won’t be sleeping anytime soon, so I decide to check out the envelope Roman left for me. He said it had something to do with Elodie.
Inside, there’s only a small, simple phone and a note:
This isn’t the phone you told me to get her. I managed to access the accounts and found several messages to a number in Italy. I placed a call to confirm—some woman picked up. I believe it’s Miss Martin’s sister.
I press the button and turn on the phone, trying to figure out this new piece of the puzzle.
There’s only one way to find out.
I dial the only number saved in the contacts. If Roman was right and Elodie is in Italy, it’s already pretty late over there.
Even so, the phone rings only twice before a woman’s voice answers, filled with anticipation. “Amber?”
“Beau LeBlanc.”
“Why do you have my sister’s phone?”
I decide to get straight to the point. “Amber was in an accident.”
