Page 53 of Protected By the Sinner

“Okay,” I say before hanging up.

Hours later

I watch him sleeping and wonder whether he’s really as relaxed as he looks.

At first, I thought Beau was just as suspicious of me as I was of him—even after we slept together, collapsing into bed half-conscious from our orgasms. But little by little, it feels like we’ve grown used to each other’s presence.

Sometimes we fight, because he asks questions I don’t want to answer, and even though we give in to each other night after night, it’s obvious that what we have is nothing more than physical.

After we make up in our own way—clothes ripped off in a frenzy, desperate for each other’s touch—he seems to go back to normal with me, but I never know whether he’s being real.

Honestly, if I had to bet on it, I’d say he’s not. Just like me, Beau is used to hiding how he feels and what he thinks.

Relaxeddoesn’t seem like a word that fits him.

He’s always alert. Always watching everything around him.

Sometimes I feel like he knows I’m playing a role, keeping certain facts from him, but I can’t be sure, he never shows any emotion outside the moments when we’re having sex.

I’d be lying if I said I’m not afraid of the day he finds out everything. But I can’t back out now.

My sister has always known how to make the right decisions for the both of us, and if she says I need to stay here, then I’ll follow her lead. For now, at least.

I’m a survivor. I’ve come too far to quit now.

Chapter 23

Boston – Massachusetts

Hazard

More than one month later

I watch my girlfriend’s sensual body wrapped in a short, sexy red dress, and I know I’m not the only one devouring her with my eyes.

The way she walks toward me—like a wildcat, my fiery panther—the woman makes my blood boil.

What’s crazy is that I don’t think she even does it on purpose. It’s not like she’s trying to draw attention to herself.

Amber has this raw, unfiltered sexuality that drives men around her insane.

I’m pretty sure she knows the effect she has on them. She just doesn’t care.

It’s like she’s got a warning sign hanging over her:Look, but don’t touch.

With me, though, she’s shameless, not shy in the least. A whirlwind of pure filth in our bedroom. Hungry to learn, giving me everything, no limits to what happens between the two of us.

When it comes to other men, she’s indifferent. Polite but distant. She doesn’t even look them in the eye unless it’s to put them in their place—something I’ve seen her do more than once in my clubs.

Amber doesn’t need to be defended. She knows how to hold her own when necessary. And for me, the contrast between how she acts in public and who she is in our bed is a total aphrodisiac.

Knowing there’s a part of her that no one else sees? It’s like fuel to my lust.

I’ve never had a partner this sensual, this willing.

Unlike the other women I’ve been with, she doesn’t ask for anything—and that should make me feel at ease.

No-strings-attached sex with a gorgeous woman sounds like paradise.