Chapter 28
Of course I’ve had things to lose before.
Investing money is partly about taking risks—although if you do it right, the risk is actually almost nonexistent.
I have three brothers who I care about more than they know.
I have seven houses, two jets, a yacht, a ranch, the lion’s share of a movie studio, three companies, two funds, ten bank accounts and so on.
Losing any one of those things would cause me one kind of pain or another on any number of levels.
This is different.
This doesn’t even compare.
This girl consumes everything about me. I’m addicted to her, I love her, I’m obsessed with her.
I want to fucking breed her and live inside her lush, squirming, lithe little body.
I want to listen to her hard-won, bell-toned laughter for the rest of time.
I want to ease every pain she’s ever had and fully absorb all of them so she doesn’t have to experience anything other than beauty and happiness from here on in.
I want to marry her. I want to pamper her and spoil her and make all her dreams come true.
I want her to already be knocked up with my baby so she can’t leave me.
I want to spend every waking—and sleeping—moment with her, inside her, as close to her as I can get, from now on, forever, always, with no interruptions, filling her up with pleasure.
It’s fucking intense.
The thought of losing her now, of not being able to see her and talk to her and watch her face and taste her and make her moan with as much ecstasy as she can handle … it’s unbearable to even contemplate.
It would kill me.
To go so long without any real connection at all and then to experience this magnitude of perfection … if she were to disappear now, it would literally fucking destroy me.
I don’t want to be dramatic about the whole thing but even the thought of sharing her with her own best friend is causing me a weird amount of angst. Partly because it means I can’t lick her sweet pussy or slide my thick cock into fucking paradise whenever I want.
I don’t know how I’m going to survive having to wait.
Fucking damn it all to hell.
I need to calm the fuck down.
I made a few phone calls as she was doing her hair. A few gifts. Some front row seats. Some property reports, deeds, quotes. Orders for our arrival. Everything I can think of that might charm her and convince her.
The rest of it can wait. I’ve returned a few texts to Todd and my brothers assuring them that yes, I’m still alive. My heart is still beating, at least, even if it insists on doing it in a completely new rhythm.
One that craves and prays with feral hope.
One that will make absolutely sure no matter what it takes or how much it costs me that Amelie Thibodeaux never leaves me.