Chapter 29 – Amber
Chapter Twenty-Nine
AMBER
I wake up in his arms, and for a split second, it’s glorious. His solid chest rises and falls beneath my cheek, our legs tangled up together between the sheets, our bodies melted into one. I sigh and slowly awaken.
As soon as I do, the horrors of the day before crash down on me. Freddie. Nathan. Sitting alone in Greenwich Village after Elijah discarded me like a used tissue. The journey back here and my gradual descent into emotional chaos. Being unable to eat or drink and getting sick with nothing but bile to purge from my stomach. I cried until my eyes were gritty and swollen, and as soon as I drifted off into a restless doze, Elijah was hammering on my door.
I don’t regret letting him stay—I slept surprisingly well wrapped up in my husband. My mind allowed itself to be hoodwinked, let me feel safe for one night. But now, as the bright winter sunlight creeps in around the drapes, a new day begins. I take deep breaths and try to steady myself before panic can grab hold of me. I’m not at all sure I want this new day.
“Morning, baby,” Elijah says, stroking my upper arms, holding me close. I look up and almost melt at the sight of his deep gray eyes brimming with love. His hair is all messy, and he gives me his lopsided smile before dropping a gentle and reassuring kiss on my head. “How are you feeling?”
“I don’t really know,” I answer honestly. “I’m glad you stayed. Thank you for that. But…”
“But it doesn’t change anything? I know that, baby. I didn’t expect it to. I’ve been thinking about what you said, and you were right. I didn’t want to believe Nathan, but I did anyway. I thought I was being impartial by fact-checking with Freddie—that I was doing my due diligence by calling the dickhead who assaulted you. I didn’t put you first, and I didn’t trust you enough to stand by you. That was a mistake, and I can’t promise I won’t make other mistakes. All I can say is that I want to try. I want to give us another shot. Give it our best shot. I love you, Amber, and I’m not ready to let you go.”
It’s a pretty speech, and I have to smile at the thought of him rehearsing it. “You’ve been awake for a while, huh?”
“Fuck yes,” he says, laughing. “I was waiting for you to open your eyes so I could say all of that. But I mean it, every single word. Give me another chance. Give us another chance. At least say you’ll think about it.”
I lie against him, enjoying the feel of his silky chest hair against my face. I still feel comforted by his presence, but I don’t trust him to be present when I need him. “I’m not making any promises, Elijah. Right now, my answer would be no—so if you want it to be yes, you’ll need to give me some time and space. And I don’t think I’m the only person who needs to think about it. You need to really think about what it would mean if we got back together. For you, for your family—it would cause as much conflict as us splitting up did. That’s a lot for you to cope with, being pulled in two different directions.”
It would also be a lot for me to cope with, but I don’t say that. I don’t think I need to. While pretending that we were merely having an affair, we managed to rebuild a great deal of our foundation and to forge a new bridge of trust. In one fell swoop, that has all been swept away. The wound that was healing has been ripped open once more, and I don’t know if either of us truly has the energy to start all over again.
“I hear you, but I assure you that I have thought about it, Amber. I will give you time and space if that’s what you need, but I don’t. You are the one I choose. And I know it will take practice, that it won’t be as simple as choosing you every single time, but I will do the work. If it helps, we could, I don’t know, maybe look at getting some counseling?” His voice, so confident throughout most of his speech, falters with that last sentence, and I laugh, surprised.
“I’m almost tempted to say yes just to see you on a therapist’s couch. I see from the state of your knuckles that you’ve been indulging in your normal therapy and punching things?”
He shrugs and nods. “What can I say? I like punching things.”
“I know you do. Ha, you and counseling… You know it would only work if the whole family came along, right? Your dad, Mason, Maddox, Drake, Nathan… Maybe even Luke. All the James boys together.”
He grins and rubs his hand over his beard. “Yeah. We’re gonna need a bigger couch.” The joke is weak, but it breaks some of the tension. “I love you in this Ramones shirt, by the way. Why did you tell me you’d thrown it away?”
There’s no point in lying about it now. “I thought keeping it made me look weak. I didn’t want you to think I’d gone soft, so I hid it and only wore it when you were away. It made me feel safe… even when you didn’t.”
He swallows, and I know that must have hurt. But it wasn’t said out of spite, and I’m so tired of hiding. “Right. And you wore it last night, after I let you down. I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to never let you down again.”
“You can’t promise me that, Elijah. Just like I can’t promise you I’ll never be a cold bitch again or that I’ll never shut you out again. We’ve both played our part in where we are now. Breaking our marriage was a team sport.”
He murmurs something that might be agreement, and I realize I’ve started to run my fingers through his chest hair. My leg has slipped over his thighs as we talked, and his breath is coming a little heavier. I can feel his heart booming inside his rib cage. My hand slides down his chest and glides across his taut abs. He sucks in air as I reach lower.
“Jesus, baby, I’m sorry,” he mutters. “That’s fucking embarrassing.”
His cock is solid under his boxers, straining and twitching beneath my feather-light touch. “Why embarrassing?” I ask, a slow flutter thrumming in my core.
“Because of the way I behaved yesterday—because of what you went through with Freddie. I stayed to look after you, but now I have a raging hard-on. I’m pretty damn sure that’s the last thing you need.”
It should be, I know. I should be running from the room or kicking him out of bed. But, well, I’m not. In fact, my hand has drifted inside his boxers. I stroke his shaft, exploring its rock-hard length. My fingers caress his heavy balls, and he moans. “Amber, sweetheart, please stop.”
“Why?” I rock gently against his side, my pussy rubbing against him in a way that makes my whole body pulse.
“Because if you don’t stop, I’m going to end up fucking you, and I don’t think that would be right.”
“Really?” I whisper, rubbing the head of his cock and finding a drop of pre-cum to massage away. “This doesn’t feel right to you?”
“Of course it fucking does.” He sounds anguished as he places his hand over mine as though to move it away from him. “But?—”
“But now I’m too damaged to fuck, is that it, Elijah?” I sit up and look him in the eyes. “Let me tell you something—Freddie Kemp is not going to win. Freddie Kemp is a disgusting pervert, and he is not going to stop me from enjoying sex. I don’t want the last cock I touch to be his. I want… I want you , Elijah.”
Under the covers, I tug off my panties and pull down his boxers, then climb on top of him. I’m already wet, my pussy slipping along his shaft as I writhe, desperate to be filled. “This might not make sense, Elijah, but I need this. No matter what happens between us long-term, I need this from you now. I need you to help me chase his memory away. Can you do that for me?”
I work my hips slowly, coating him in my arousal. He pulls the shirt off me and throws it to the floor, staring at my pussy all the time. “Yeah, I can do that for you. Fuck, look at you… so wet already. Ride me, Amber. Slide yourself onto me. I’m all yours.”
I’m more than ready for him, and I sigh as I hit the right angle and impale myself on his impressive length. I hold my breath, lowering myself onto him completely, feeling deliciously stretched and full. He keeps his big hands on my waist, and his eyes are intense as I move. He normally likes to be more in charge than this, and I can see him battling his own instincts, but he gives me control.
The pressure builds quickly, my clit throbbing with every thrust of my hips. He doesn’t even need to touch me there; the friction between us is already setting me on fire. He glides his hands up my body, palms my breasts, and pinches my nipples in exactly the way I like. “God, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I can feel you squeezing me, baby. Fuck, that’s so good.”
I love the way he looks under me, his huge, muscular physique splayed on my bed, his eyes hazy with lust. I put my hands on his shoulders and increase my pace. He leans up and sucks a nipple into his mouth, and it’s enough to push me over the edge.
“Elijah!” I cry out, my nails digging into his flesh as I come. Ripples of pure bliss wash over me, my hips jerking.
He growls and, in one slick move, roughly positions me underneath him, keeping his cock inside me the whole time. I gasp in surprise, and he pauses. “Is this okay?” he asks softly as I wrap my trembling legs around his ass.
“Yes, it’s okay. Fuck me, Elijah. Fuck me hard.”
He puts his hands on either side of my head and looks me in the eye. “Ready?” he asks, grinning wickedly.
He doesn’t give me a chance to answer—he takes my breath away as he begins to rail into me. I grab his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he nails me to the mattress. Speed, power, and a massive cock—the lethal combination soon has me screaming his name and coming yet again.
Our sweat-slickened bodies slide together. “I. Fucking. Love. You,” he grunts as he thrusts. Then he stills, finding his release, looking magnificent and wild. After he collapses beside me, he immediately scoops me into his arms. He knows I’m a flight risk and doesn’t seem to want to let me go.
I settle on his chest, letting myself enjoy the moment. “You seem tired,” I tease. “I think you need to work on your cardio.” He slaps me firmly on the ass, which is what I was hoping for. I like the pleasant sting it spreads over my skin.
He notices my reaction, of course, and raises an eyebrow. “You in the mood for another spanking? I’m happy to oblige.”
He holds up one of his huge hands, and my pussy clenches a little. I laugh. “Tempting offer, but no thank you. I do actually have stuff I need to do today. And I might need to sit down while I do it.”
Also, I cannot allow myself to be tempted back into the world of Mr. and Mrs. Smith. We just had sex, and it was fantastic sex—but I need a clear head. This needs to be the last time, at least for a while. I meant what I said when I told him I needed time and space.
“You have your interview at the center, right?”
“More of an informal chat from what I’ve been told. See if we’re a good fit.”
“It will go great. They’ll be lucky to have you.” He squeezes me tighter and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “I heard what you said earlier, and I will give you the time and space you need, but will you let me hold onto you a bit longer?”
I nod and snuggle into him, allowing us both a few more minutes. When I kiss his chest and sit up, he smooths my hair back from my face and gives me a comforting smile. “I know this is bit of a mood killer, but before I go, I need to ask… What do you want to do about Freddie?” The name causes me to tense up, but Elijah expected it and is already soothing me with long strokes down my spine.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I don’t know. I was asking myself that yesterday. I’d be lying if I said part of me doesn’t want to forget all about it. That would be easier, but it would also make me a coward.”
“No, it would make you human. You had a traumatic experience. Of course you want to forget about it. And if that’s what you choose, then I will support you. But…”
“But I won’t have been the first.” I sigh. “He was so cocky. So confident. This wasn’t the first time he assaulted a woman.”
“I think you’re right. The way he spoke to me too… He was laughing. He obviously thought he’d gotten away with it again, and I suspect he’s been doing this for years.” He grits his teeth, his expression like thunder. “If you’re up for it, I’d like to make sure that, although you weren’t the first, you will be the last.”
“Do you think we should call the police?”
“We could do that,” he offers. “Or you could leave it to me.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, frowning. “Elijah, I know what you’re like, how protective you are—I can’t stand the man, but please don’t kill him, okay?”
He sucks his upper lip, and I can tell he’s considered it. My husband, the psychopath. “I won’t kill him. But I will make sure he never hurts another woman. Do you trust me?” I raise my eyebrows, and he adds, “Do you trust me with this one particular thing? I promise I won’t end up on death row.”
“And also promise me you won’t do anything that hurts Martha.”
He scowls. “Why do you give a fuck about her? She was part of this.”
“Yes, but… We aren’t besties or anything, but Iknow Martha. She’s… Okay, sometimes she’s vapid and self-obsessed and shallow, but most of that seems like an act. She reminds me of a wounded bird, Elijah. Her husband…” I shake my head. “He hurts women for sport. I can just imagine how much abuse she’s taken over the years. And their girls, they’re only fifteen. They’re innocent in all of this. When I was waiting for you, before— Well, I considered involving the police, but I kept coming back to the same thing: What would it do to those poor girls if their dad was all over the media for being a sexual predator?”
Sighing, he nods. “Yeah. Okay.” Then he shakes his head and gazes at me with wonder. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Before I can think of how to respond, he continues. “Let me handle it, all right? I promise I will make sure Martha and the girls are protected. But that little shit will rue the day he ever touched you.” The quiet, deadly fury in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. He is always civilized on the surface, but when the people he loves are hurt, well.
Freddie Kemp is about to discover exactly what lies under the polished James veneer. If only I could be a fly on the wall.
I wriggle up in his arms and kiss him lightly. “All right, I’ll let you handle it. And please, don’t tell Drake or Nathan or anyone else. I’m not ashamed—I have nothing to be ashamed of—but I don’t want to rehash any of this with them.”
“Of course, baby. Anything you want.”
“Right now, I want to go so I can get ready for my meeting,” I say, jumping out of bed before he can stop me.
He climbs out of bed and stretches. Hell’s bells, he really is a work of art. I pick up the Ramones T-shirt and throw it at him. “You can take this with you if you’d like.”
“Nah.” Giving me a knowing look, he slowly rubs it over his chest. “I think I’ll leave this here with you. So you won’t forget about me.”
I walk away as though I’m not at all bothered.
Fat chance, I think as I escape into the hallway, my cheeks blazing, the image of his gorgeous body seared on my eyeballs. I couldn’t forget him if I tried.