Page 27 of Protected By the Sinner

She eats slowly, clearly paying more attention to me than to her food. Like she’s expecting me to attack her at any moment.

Who are you, Amber Martin?I ask myself—not for the first time.

“Why did you leave the apartment you were living in?” I ask aloud.

“I don’t like staying in the same place for too long.”

“Like a Romani?”

Her cheeks flush and she looks away. “Something like that. I never stay in one city for more than a couple of months.”

“Where’s your family?”

“I don’t think that’s relevant to whatever you have in mind for me,” she says, throwing my own words from the club back at me. She drops her utensils and meets my eyes. “Our dealdoesn’t include sex, but it does include getting to know each other?”

“Yes. But this isn’t a relationship.”

“I didn’t think it was. I don’t date.”

It should be a statement that puts me at ease, but instead, I find myself asking, “Why not?”

“For the same reason I just told you. I don’t put down roots. Now, about the time we’re spending together... I’ve changed my mind about not leaving Texas. If you...uh...want to take me somewhere, I’m willing to go.”

“And what brought on this sudden change?”

“Do I have to answer everything?”

“If you want to stay with me, yes.”

“I thought it was the other way around. You said you wanted me around.”

“Don’t test my patience, Amber.”

She stares at her barely touched food. “I don’t want to be alone in Dallas right now. In Texas, actually.”

“Finish eating. I’ll think about it.”

She’s out on the balcony, apparently gazing at the starless sky. I watch her through the glass door.

I know she feels my presence, but she doesn’t turn around.

Normally, I don’t let things move this slowly with a woman, but my mysterious goddess is like a rare vintage wine—I want to savor every drop.

I approach her and place one hand on each side of her on the railing, trapping her against me without touching her.

She doesn’t try to escape. On the contrary, she leans back, the back of her head resting on my chest. Her eyes are closed, as if she’s savoring the moment.

I wrap an arm around her waist, and my other hand covers hers. I run my lips along her right shoulder, nudging the strap of her dress down slightly with my teeth.

“Mmmm . . .” Her ass presses back, teasing me, and like a lightning bolt, a fantasy flashes through my mind: taking her right here, naked, with the cool night breeze brushing her nipples.

She arches her body, surrendering. I grab her face and pull her mouth to mine, devouring her with my tongue.

I run my hand up her thigh until I reach her panties, and with one leg, I part hers. The lingerie is silk, tiny and smooth, no lace, allowing me to feel, even through the fabric, just how hard her clit is.

“You can stop me with a single word—no,” I warn.

Her answer is to spin in my arms, facing me. She pulls me down by the neck and kisses me, desperate. “Make me forget,” she whispers.