Page 35 of Protected by the Sinner (The Sinner’s Touch #2)
New Orleans - Louisiana
Ever since I had that crying fit on the plane, after waking from the nightmare, Beau’s been even more gentle and attentive with me.
Okay, I wish I could erase the part where I asked whether he was proposing to me—which, judging by his reaction, he clearly wasn’t.
The driver pulls up in front of a mansion, and I catch myself smiling. “This is definitely not a hotel-house .”
He was getting out of the car but turns back. “You remembered?”
“Remembered what?”
“You used to say that all my homes around the U.S. felt like hotel rooms. Too impersonal for your taste.” It’s the first time he almost smiles, and if it’s even possible, he looks even more gorgeous.
“The phrase came back to me. I didn’t like your other houses?”
He shrugs casually. “Guess not. Either way, you never held back when it came to saying what you thought.”
“And did that please you?”
He pulls me against him and whispers in my ear, “Everything about you fascinated me. Still does.”
It’s not a declaration of love, but it’s the closest thing I’ve gotten since I woke up. And at this moment, I feel a real connection between us.
“I think I like everything about you too, Beau LeBlanc.”
“You don’t know enough of me yet to be saying that.”
“I’ll give you that. So let’s say that what I do see, I adore.”
He walks with me in silence and helps me up the old staircase. I don’t know whether I knew anything about architecture before the memory loss, but I’m blown away by the luxurious simplicity of the place.
“I love it here. That huge garden and the trees. My God! You picked a slice of paradise to call home.”
“You serious?”
“Yes. I can’t wait to walk around and explore everything.”
He rests his hand on the small of my back as we walk, and I shiver.
Maybe I shouldn’t, but I turn to look at him.
I don’t need words to understand what we’re both thinking. What we both want.
The moment the door closes behind us, he scoops me into his arms and starts climbing the long staircase without saying a word.
I don’t ask questions or protest, because with every passing minute beside Beau, I know this is exactly where I want to be.
He lays me gently on the bed like I’m something precious. And honestly, the way he looks at me . . . even though he hasn’t said anything tender, the first impression I had—that he was angry with me—is long gone.
All I see on his face is the same longing and desire that I feel for him.
How can someone miss memories they don’t even have? But that’s exactly what happened when Beau held me on the plane.
I don’t remember our history, but my body knows his touch. My lips ache for his kiss.
Maybe I should resist until I remember everything . . . but the need I feel for him robs me of that choice.
He climbs onto the bed beside me, gently pushing until I lie down.
I close my eyes, trying to absorb every sensation.
He slips off my shoes, and his lips glide across the top of my foot. It’s a delicate gesture but so erotic it leaves me breathless. Everything about Beau is sensual.
“I can’t resist you.”
“Neither can I,” he says.
He lies beside me and starts undoing the buttons of my blouse, one by one, patiently—while his mouth claims mine in a deep kiss.
My whole body screams for his touch, the space between my thighs already wet.
“I don’t know what we were or what we used to say to each other. I don’t have memories of words, only sensations. And even without my memories, I know I love you, Beau.”
“Amber . . .”
My name comes out like a moan and a prayer rolled into one.
It’s overwhelming, the way he’s making my body feel.
His mouth roams over me like he’s starved, like I’m the only thing that can satisfy him.
I barely realize we’re both naked, his hands and mouth driving all thought from my mind. With every lick and suck from those warm lips, I melt for him—because of him.
It’s like every cell in me is crackling with electricity.
Beau is lined up over me, and I can feel his erection pressing into my stomach. He moves slightly, rubbing against my clit with just the friction of our bodies, and I cry out from the pleasure.
Just when I think he’s about to give me what I crave so desperately, he changes his mind—rolling us over so I’m on top.
His hands come up to my breasts, teasing my nipples, squeezing, and my head falls back.
“I want to watch you ride me.” His voice is hoarse with desire and makes my body tremble. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“And you’re very good with words,” I try to joke, but the truth is, looking into his eyes, I do feel beautiful.
I rise to my knees and focus on where our bodies align. With my hands on his chest, I begin to sink down—taking him in inch by inch.
Beau is huge, and the fit isn’t easy. I feel his hands on my hips, guiding me, encouraging me. I hold my breath and take all of him inside me.
“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 of mourning 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.