by Sosie Frost
I didn’t remember the last time I had been taken, and now it no longer mattered.
This. This was what it was like to be with a man. This was what it was like to submit and be worshiped and to give everything—every thought, every fear, every desire to the one who healed any wound and silenced all doubt.
He rocked within me, holding me, murmuring nonsense as every moment he stretched my body locked us together in a dizzying moment of truth.
It was familiar. It was foreign. It was exciting. It was terrifying.
A new pressure built inside me. I clung to Shepard, sweating as he did, groaning with his movements, begging for that release of…
Truth? Connection?
Just physical pleasure?
Every motion brought me closer, but Shepard’s words stung as he whispered. Beautiful words. Haunting promises.
Sorrowful regret.
“Evie…” He breathed. “I don’t deserve this…you…”
I whimpered, my lips aching for a kiss not hushed confessions. “More, more.”
Our bodies shifted and tensed, burned and shivered in a barrage of twisting, delirious, aching pressure. I groaned and offered him everything. My tightness. My body. My voice. And he filled me in absolute perfection, as if I had been built for him, crafted for his very pleasure and rewarded with the thrill of my own.
But he lowered himself, arms on either side of me, my legs wrapped over his waist. His words broke. His thrust quickened.
And his sweet voice cracked—whispered to someone other than me.
My desire cast me in heat, a drenched inferno of desperation and loneliness and crushing emotion for a man I shouldn’t have wanted, shouldn’t have touched, shouldn’t have allowed so close to me.
I had no one but Shepard.
But he had someone else. Someone in his memories. Someone he had betrayed.
And, as our bodies trembled and tensed, I no longer knew where his mind was.
The crippling pleasure took everything from me. Mind. Body. Whisper. I gripped his arms and gasped, offering my lips as he guided me through a mind-rending clash of silken agony and desperate excitement. We crested together. Gave ourselves to the other.
In that moment, I connected with another person. I offered him what he had lost.
Affection. Desire. Devotion.
But something in his past severed our bond. It dragged him from me in a single regretted breath.
I had given my heart to Shepard.
But he made love to a ghost.
14
The only delight better than a leisurely hot shower? Suds’ing it up with someone else.
The soap bubbles cascaded in rivers over my body. Shepard pooled the shower gel in his hand, and, for the second time, he massaged it over my silky skin. The water pounded the stall. His lips brushed my neck, the only part of our morning hotter than the water.
His hardness brushed against my back. Better than a cup of coffee in the morning. Every touch sizzled me, every promise an energizing buzz of shivered promise.
His hands gripped my hips. I arched.
And the baby started to cry.
I sighed, bumping my head against the shower stall. Shepard groaned, but he pulled away.
“I’ll get her,” he said. “You can finish.”
“She’s hungry.”
“I’ll get her diaper at least.”
“Sex and diaper changes. Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Both at the same time?”
“That’s a relief, actually.”
He grinned, ducking out of the water to grab a towel. “Take your time, Momma. You deserve a shower.”
“Only because you got me so sweaty last night.”
“Job well done.”
I smirked. “We’ll see if you can replicate it tonight.”
“That a challenge?”
“Consider the panties thrown down.”
He left the bathroom with a chuckle. “Always knew you were trouble.”
Oh, this man.
I doused myself under the shower, flipping the water to cold. It didn’t help. My core tightened. My body tingled. My mind dizzied itself with terrible and wonderful images.
And Shepard took care of the baby before leaving for work.
How was it that we fell into such a fantastic routine?
Four days ago, I’d given myself to him in a wild and unplanned moment of passion. Now?
He had breakfast on the table—or at least, some toast in the toaster.
He’d kissed me goodbye before leaving for work—and he’d given Clue an extra cuddle on his way out the door.
He returned at dinner, famished and tired but so proud of the good he did and the lives he changed and the weight of his badge.
And then—we’d go to bed. Together. Tangled in each other’s arms. Twisting under the sheets. Taking whatever we could get from each other.
Not talking.
Not planning.
And not answering the simplest of questions.
What happens now?
I didn’t have an answer for that—hell, I hardly knew what to plan past Clue’s next feeding. My breasts were making most of my decisions, and so far, neither Clue nor Shepard had complained.
I conditioned my hair, gave it a quick detangle, then abandoned any hope of getting it styled before Clue needed her breakfast. A handy-dandy scarf worked wonders to style the curls back, and I emerged from the bathroom clean, rested, and absolutely loving that Clue babbled in Shepard’s arms, giving him big smiles and a full-belly giggle.
But Shepard wasn’t smiling. He turned up the volume on the television.
My heart stopped.
The interview.
The morning news played my interview with that snake in the grass Cara Higgins, and I was the idiot who looked like a wide-eyed field mouse dancing with the viper.
Shepard’s eyebrow twitched as Cara mentioned the police.
“And have the police helped?” Sugar sweet venom poured from the TV.
Did I have to look so damn unsure? “They’re doing their jobs.”
“Not effectively…”
A stupid answer. Shepard stood, his arms steady over the baby. “What the hell is this?”
Damn it. “I…it’s a long story.”
“I’ll call in late.”
I reached for the remote. He was quicker. The volume rose.
Cara continued, the false sincerity worthy of the Peabody I’d shove down her throat. “So, the police have done nothing?”
I groaned, praying for a quick edit of the scene. Instead the me on the television shrugged and gave an awkward smile.
“Not…yet?”
Shit.
Shepard spun to face me. “Evie, what the hell did you do?”
“Are you yelling at me?”
“You aren’t that stupid.”
“Oh, see, now I know you aren’t yelling at me.” I crossed my arms before I wagged an unfortunate finger. “Don’t you dare, Shepard.”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Yeah. I meant to audition for American Idol. Found local news sweetheart Cara Higgins instead.”
“Evie.”
“She didn’t like my singing, but when I said I had amnesia she just plunked me down in that chair for an ambush interview that completely humiliated me. Wasn’t expecting that.”
The remote nearly cracked in his hand. “Do you realize how dangerous this is?”
“The station said they’d screen all the calls they’d get.”
“All?”
“Well, in case it goes viral—”
Shepard groaned. “Jesus, Evie. You just told the world you have no idea who you are or where you come from. Anyone could find you and manipulate and completely confuse you, if they don’t try anything worse.”
“Or someone could come and find me.” I shrugged. “Anyone. A brother. Sister. Granna. Shepard, any one of my friends or family could see this and come get
me.”
“I can’t believe you’re so naïve.”
“I can’t believe you’re so pessimistic. You aren’t the type to see the worst in people.”
“When it comes to you and the baby?” He swore. “I don’t trust anyone. And neither should you.”
“I had to do something.”
“Did you?”
I bit my tongue before I said anything I’d regret. “I’m not some helpless little girl.”
“I never said you were. God knows how unbelievably stubborn you are. I told you the only way we’d solve this was through your memories. I said I’d work with you.”
“Well, maybe I needed some help.”
“And if the station believed the city could help, don’t you think we’d have petitioned the media?” His eyes iced, and I looked away. “Or maybe the station thought—young woman with a baby, all on her own…hmm, maybe we should keep you protected from a creep with too much time on his hands—if they weren’t already stuffed down his pants.”
“There’s good people out there too,” I said. “People who would help.”
“Yeah. Like me.”
“I didn’t say I was giving up on you, Shepard.”
Clue started to fuss. He gave her a little shimmy, but he hadn’t learned all the tricks yet. She needed her momma, and he delivered her to my arms with a frustrated sigh.
“I thought you trusted me,” he said.
“This isn’t about you.”
“Like hell.”
“I can’t believe you. I had to do this.”
He grunted. “Oh, no. I get it.”
“No. No, you don’t.” I blocked his path before he stalked to the door. “This is the last chance. I did this to eliminate the possibilities.” Why was it so hard to say now? “I did it so I could confront anything that might keep us apart.”
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“Neither of us know what we’re doing! We both have this past hanging over us. I’ve forgotten mine, but you…”
“What?”
I hated myself for even bringing it up. “You can’t forget yours.”
“Can’t?”
“Won’t.” My voice hardened. “We can’t move forward until we’re sure we can surrender that past. I might not have a choice, but you…”
“I told you, Evie.” Shepard held my gaze. “I want you.”
“Then this had to happen. I had to do the interview.”
“And endanger yourself? You’ve given every creep in this city your picture and medical history.” He pointed to the baby in my arms, and I wrapped Clue up a little tighter. “You’ve told every criminal, every pervert, every asshole in the world that you’re alone with an infant.”
“At least I’m trying. It’s a risk to find the truth.”
“And what happens when you learn it? When you have your past and answers and memories, and everything we have is…gone.”
“I did this for my future, Shepard.”
“Will I be in it?”
I swallowed. “I…I don’t know. I hope so. I just wanted—”
His voice hollowed. “The answer is no.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes. I do.” His honesty sliced through me with a sincerity I didn’t understand. “You want to know the truth, Evie? You didn’t have a perfect life. You didn’t have a perfect boyfriend or father for your baby. You didn’t have a little house with a white picket fence, dog, and paperboy. Your life was hard, and I can guarantee you wanted to forget your past when you still remembered it.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“But I could give you the life you wanted. I’d keep you safe. Be with you. Take care of you and the baby. I could have been that man, Evie.”
“What’s stopping you?”
“The truth. The past. Everything you want to find, and every way you’re trying to do it. I’m here if you want me…but the instant you remember what you had…” He shook his head. “You won’t want a goddamned thing to do with me.”
“How can you say that?”
“I gotta go to work.”
“You’re leaving?”
Shepard spread his arms. “Someone’s gotta clear the streets of the assholes who’d take advantage of naïve women like you.”
“Naïve?”
“Don’t wait up for me—I’m working late tonight.”
He’d be lucky if I let him back in the apartment. “Well…maybe I’ll call you. Let you know what I learned about myself once people see this news report.”
“Yeah…” His voice darkened. “I hope you find everything you’ve been looking for.”
The door slammed behind him.
I looked at Clue. “What the hell just happened?”
She didn’t have an answer, just a gummy grin as she attempted to somersault backwards to cram her foot in her mouth.
The interview still blasted from the TV. I turned it off before the news ruined any more of my morning.
Or past.
Or future.
Shepard was wrong.
Why didn’t he understand what I was searching for? It wasn’t just a family anymore. The confused, desperate, and agonized part of me wasn’t searching for a past lover.
I looked for a way to be with him.
“Your momma is an idiot,” I whispered to Clue. She agreed with a delighted shriek. “Should I go get him?”
Clue didn’t offer a tremendous amount of insight, but some sage wisdom leaked out beside the drool. She was a bundle of giggles in basket of smiles, but my heart hurt.
How much happier could she be if Shepard were there? Forever? Holding her. Smiling with her. Taking care of her.
Loving her?
How much happier would I be?
Could anything from my past ever equate to what I had with Shepard? My fractured memories told a terrible and tragic story—a hard life in a dangerous neighborhood, guns and violence, crimes and poverty.
What was there to dig up that wasn’t already cast away, rotten in the gutter of discomfort, disarray, and disaster?
What would I really find if I kept looking? A name? A history?
Or the worst case scenario? A lonely, terrible past that would yield into a wonderful future?
Clue needed to be fed and changed, and my curls threatened to overwhelm my head. The least I could do was get both of us looking presentable and then…
Find Shepard? Apologize?
Confess the truth to him?
I hauled Clue up, earning a giggle as part of sweeping her into my arms now required a firm raspberry blown directly in the center of her pudgy tummy.
My phone rang before I made it to the bedroom.
“There’s Shepard now…” I told her. “Calling to apologize for the tantrum, right?”
She agreed, chewing on her fist in a desperate plea for less apologies and more boob. I adjusted her onto my hip, coughing as she attempted to choke me on the dangling bit of my scarf.
I answered with an Ow instead of a hello.
“Evie?”
It wasn’t Shepard. A tinny female voice spoke through a speakerphone, a dozen other lines ringing behind her. I frowned.
“Yes?”
“This is Bonnie from WTEA? I’m an intern for the station. I have some good news.”
My stomach sunk.
Since when did good news make me sick?
“It’s wonderful!” Bonnie’s voice warmed, like a smile nearly ripped her face in half. “We had someone call about you!”
My heart shattered. “Who?”
“Evie—we found your fiancé!”
15
“Shepard, if you get this message…” I checked the time. “Or any of the last four I sent you...please call me back. Something’s happened. Just…check your damn phone.”
If he hadn’t answered my calls last night, and he wasn’t answering now, he probably wouldn’t check his messages until later.
And who knew what would happen the
n.
What I would remember.
What I’d regret.
I ended the call and banged the corner of the phone into my forehead.
What did I do now?
I had no idea what I was supposed to wear when meeting—reconnecting?—with my fiancé and father of my child.
Was it better to go casual? I tugged on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. That looked like I didn’t take this seriously. I tried a skirt instead. It came off immediately. Best to not wear something that reminded me of how easy it’d been to open my legs. Slacks didn’t scream comfort, but a bit of formality was in order. Good for an apology.
Bad for a family.
A family.
How could I have everything I’d ever wanted and still feel like the world had ripped it all away?
Jeans it was. Better to be comfortable in case my entire world tilted once more on its axis and everything raged back to me in one unceremonious wallop.
At least the baby looked cute. Little pink dress. White shoes. Pink bow.
Shoot.
Clue slept in her crib, though she gave me a displeased snort as I removed the bow and stuffed it in my pocket. That had been a gift from Shepard. Talk about awkward…the word I used when damning, reprehensible, and disgusting no longer cut it.
I let her sleep. Plenty to talk about with my fiancé without waking her from the nap. Like…where he had been. What had happened to keep us separated for so long.
What his damn name was.
All things I hoped would be revealed after he knocked at the door.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
My breathing shallowed. Almost panicking.
But this was good. This was what I’d wanted.
Behind the door was my true life and love, and, after six months, it was time that we found each other again.
So why was I so terrified to open the door?
I took a breath.
I did not expect a black man.
His skin was even darker than my own—a rich and deep black. He was handsome with natural hair twisted into tight corn rows. He had a strong nose. A sensual smile. Dark, chestnut eyes. Thick eyebrows.
And he leaned against the door frame as if he had come to pick me up a dozen times from my before.
Jeans were the right choice. He wore his loose. The designer label complimented his very red tennis shoes.
