Chapter Seven

Charlee-Mae"s words had knocked him over with a feather, and Philippe struggled to find something to say. He felt her start to squirm, and he forced himself to let go even when a part of him wanted to keep her caged...in case she had decided to leave.

The silence stretched between them, and Philippe"s tension grew. "Have you gotten your memories back?"

His wife shook her head, and the invisible noose around his neck eased the slightest bit. He knew he should be disappointed at her answer, but he was not. If Charlee-Mae had regained her memories, everything would have gone back to normal, and she would remember that their marriage was a business arrangement. He should have wanted that, but he didn"t. And he no longer did...because everything had now changed

Philippe knew his sudden change of heart might make him appear fickle, but he didn"t give a damn.

All he knew was that he wanted Charlee-Mae as she was now: a wife who believed herself in love with him. But was that even possible, when she had already figured out that both of them had not met under normal circumstances?

Philippe"s gaze slid back to his wife. "How did you find out?"

"You said I gave you Charlotte"s number, but earlier, when your phone lost its signal, and I had to call her back...that"s when I realized you had Charlotte"s work number."

Putain.

While he and Charlotte had done their best to eliminate every little thing that could trigger Charlee-Mae"s memories, they had obviously ended up overlooking clues that could make Charlee-Mae realize the truth...even without gaining her memories back.

"If I had really given you her number like you said I did, I would"ve given you her other number. The one reserved for family and friends."

Her tone was more wry than furious, but this only made Philippe wonder if this was simply the calm before the storm. And when he saw Charlee-Mae take a deep breath, all he could do was prepare for the worst.

"I"d just like to know..."

No matter what Charlee-Mae would throw at him, he would simply take it and figure things out from there.

"Was it you or me?"

He would do whatever it took to keep her, and...what was that she had just asked?

Philippe blinked. "Pardon?"

His wife crossed her arms over her chest. "I want to know if it was you who wanted a mail-order bride or me who wanted a mail-order groom."

"Ah, bien..." Philippe struggled to overcome his bemusement. "Since I was not asked to pay any fees, I suppose it was you?"

Charlee-Mae"s face broke into a wide smile. "I knew it!"

That was the last reaction he had expected, and Philippe gave up trying to understand things on his own. "You are not...furious?"

Charlee-Mae laughed, and Philippe started to wonder if he had stumbled into another alternate universe.

"I might have lost my memories of the past two weeks," his wife told him with a wrinkle of her nose, "but it doesn"t mean I no longer know myself." She shot him a chiding look. "Duh."

Philippe didn"t know whether to feel amused or disgruntled. No one had ever said "duh" to him, but considering that his wife had every right to say a lot worse—-

Duh was good, Philippe decided privately, and a lot better than words like "damn" and "douchebag".

"Ever since Charlotte got the S.A.F.E. men down the aisle," Charlee-Mae was now telling him, "I"ve been so, so tempted to sign up with her agency."

This was news to Philippe, but it was not enough reason to lower his guard. Hell hath no fury like a woman lied to, or so the saying more or less went.

"I"ve honestly lost count of the times I decided to go for it, only to back out at the very last minute because of pride. Or more like vanity. I was worried that if people were to find out I chose to become a mail-order bride, they"d think of me as this old and desperate thirty-something chick and lose all respect—-"

"Charlee-Mae?"

She immediately stopped talking. Philippe had probably called her that before, but this was the first time she remembered him doing it, and she loved how he made her name sound so...French.

"Vous pouvez répéter?"

Charlee-Mae"s accent was still terrible, but for once Philippe had too many things in his mind to let it affect his libido. "Charlee-Mae," he began.

Butterflies started to flutter around the edges of her stomach. "One more time, please?"

Philippe felt as if he had suddenly lost track of their conversation. "One more time what?"

"My name."

"Ah...Charlee-Mae?"

His wife"s entire face lit up, and Philippe, who had been meaning to ask if she truly was not angry, realized at that moment he already had his answer right there. And although he knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth—-

"Why aren"t you furious?"

Charlee-Mae looked at him oddly. "Uh...duh."

Philippe"s lips pressed together to keep himself from smiling. "Duh" was very, very good.

"Why would you think I was furious?"

"Because I lied to you."

"Oh, that."

Philippe had never heard a woman dismiss a lie so easily.

"I"m sure Dr. Manolis told you to avoid doing anything that could upset me," Charlee-Mae said wryly, "and that"s why you didn"t tell me the truth."

"He did indeed," Philippe said slowly, "but..."

"It"s not like it was that hard to figure out, you know. You"ve been so careful with your replies every time we talk. You were super protective of me, and I found it very sweet."

"Je vois..."

"Oh no."

He stiffened.

"I can already tell..."

Philippe"s unease returned.

"You"re another overthinker like Charlotte," Charlee-Mae teased.

Philippe"s head was starting to ache. Just when he started to think he was out of the woods, Charlee-Mae would say something that made him feel like he was walking on the edge of a cliff, but just as he started thinking worst-case scenarios, she would say something to ease his worries.

LOOKING AT HER, ANDseeing her amber eyes once again filled with mischief, Philippe heard himself ask, "Are we truly good, ma femme? You truly do not care—-"

"That we started as a mail-order marriage, but ended up falling in love along the way?" Her lips curved in the prettiest smile, and Philippe forced himself to smile back even as her words made him feel like someone had just walked over his grave.

"It was really, really sweet of you to try and hide the truth."

Philippe knew this was his last chance to make things right and come clean.

"And I think that deserves a reward, so..."

"Charlee-Mae—-"

"Don"t you think it"s time to make a woman out of me?"

Putain de bordel de merde.

And then his wife knelt down.

"But first..."

She reached for the buttons of his trousers, and Philippe"s fists clenched against his sides. His conscience told him it wasn"t right to let Charlee-Mae do this when he had yet to tell her about—-

FUCK!

His trousers were now pooled around his ankles, and his wife"s fingers were stroking gently over the bulge of his arousal.

"What a huge package you have..." Charlee-Mae only meant to tease, but when her words made her husband growl, the rawness of the sound made her entire body burn, and she suddenly had the most pressing need to see—-

Oh my Lord!

After tugging his boxers down his legs, she found herself directly at eye level with Philippe"s cock, which was definitely, absolutely, and wonderfully...huge. She wasn"t even sure she could wrap her fingers completely around—-oh.

Charlee-Mae couldn"t help but stare in awe.

He really was huge, and just as she suspected, he really was too thick for her to fully hold, and when she thought about how long he was...

Philippe saw his wife gulp, and all he could think about was what she would gulp on next, and fuck, fuck, fuck—-

Her amber eyes were now looking up to his, and the helpless desire he saw in her gaze destroyed whatever control and conscience he had left inside of him.

"Tu es très énorme, monsieur."

The whispered words, and oh fuck, that accent of hers which was still as shitty as it was lust-inducing - both were the last straw, and he could no longer stop himself from gently cupping her nape until he was slowly guiding her mouth to the swollen and slightly wet head of his arousal.

Aaaaah.

His eyes squeezed shut as the warm, moist heaven that was his wife"s mouth took him in, slowly and tentatively at first, but because of the steady pressure that he was exerting as he continued to guide her movement, the rest of his cock gradually made it past her lips...

And then he was completely in, and he felt his wife slowly start to suck on his cock.

"Charlee-Mae, mon Dieu..."

The sound of her husband"s lust-roughened groan made Charlee-Mae want to moan herself, but with her mouth completely stuffed, all she could do was reach up to gently squeeze his balls while sucking harder on his cock, which was hotter, harder, and bigger than she could ever imagine.

It made her dizzy with pleasure, knowing that this unbelievably enormous cock was all hers and hers alone, and when her husband slowly started to move, the realization that something she had once secretly dreamed of—-

The man she loved was now fucking her mouth—-

Aaaah.

All she could suddenly think about was doing anything and everything she could to pleasure her husband. To suck and lick him endlessly. Caress his balls. And when she heard him growling her name and felt him try to pull out—-

No!

Her hands tightened around the muscled cheeks of his ass, and she sucked his cock as hard as she could—-

"Putain!"

His hand on her neck tightened a fraction, and then he was groaning, his cum shooting out of his cock. It tasted hot, salty, and very much him, and all she could do was close her eyes as she drank and swallowed everything in.

Philippe carefully pulled out of his wife"s mouth before drawing her gently up to her feet. Amber eyes looked up to him, and his chest clenched at the tenderness he saw in his wife"s gaze.

"Mon coeur..."

He had used the endearment before. Just once. But now, he knew once was still more than enough, and that he should not have spoken such words before until he had meant them...like now.

His mother was right, after all.

A hopeless romantic he seemed to fucking be as well, having fallen in love with the wife who was only supposed to be his tool for revenge.