Elara eventually fell asleep, so Killian took her back to his grandfather's house. When he had said "house," I didn't know we'd be staying on a plantation. The SUV slowed to a crawl as we turned onto a long, narrow drive. A white Greek Revival structure rose out of the earth like a ghost made of stoneand mortar. Massive columns stood like silent sentinels. A man wearing a formal suit came out to the car and helped Elara into the house.
Killian scooped me up last, and I tucked my face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. He carried me into the house and up so many stairs. He laid me down on a bed that felt like a cloud, his movements tender as he tucked the covers around me.
He started to pull back. I caught his wrist, stopping him. Heat pulsed between my legs as I looked up at him. "Don't go," I smiled lazily, my fingers sliding up his arm. "I've been thinking about you. About what I want you to do to me."
"Chloe—"
"I want your mouth on me," I continued, ignoring the warning in his tone. "Everywhere. I want to feel you inside me."
His jaw tightened. "Chloe."
I squeezed my thighs together, trying to rub my aching clit against the seam of my soaked panties. My words slurred at the end. He caught my wrists gently, pulling them away.
"Not like this," he said quietly.
I frowned. "Why not?"
"Because you're drunk."
I pulled him down until his ear was inches from my mouth. "I'm not drunk. Stay here and do all those nasty things you want to do to me." My hands were clumsy as I began wrestling with the drawstring of his pajama pants. My panties were drenched, the slick mess coating my inner thighs. I wanted to feel him. "Get... these... off..." I grunted.
I heard him let out a low, tortured groan, his entire body going rigid. But sleep finally won. My head sank back into the pillow, and my eyes closed before I could fight it. The last thing I felt was his hand brushing my hair back from my face.
Chapter 28: Chloe
I woke up to someone saying my name. My head throbbed, and my mouth tasted like I'd been chewing on pennies. I pressed my palms against my eyes and tried to remember how I'd gotten here—the plantation, the stairs, Killian carrying me. Me saying nasty things to him. Me trying to pull his pants off.
Oh, God.
"Chloe." Killian's voice was low and urgent.
My eyes opened slowly. The ceiling came into focus first, then the edge of the bed, then him. He was already dressed. He had this look on his face. Something was wrong.
"What?" My voice was rough from sleep.
He ran a hand through his hair—something I hadn't seen him do before. It was a disruptive, uncontrolled gesture. "The FBI is here."
That was quick. I'd expected at least a week before my father reported what happened—probably rewriting the story to suit himself.
“I can call in some favors if you need?”
I didn't rush to answer. I thought about it and decided no. I shook my head.
I wanted to show Killian I wouldn’t keep using him.
My mild reaction seemed to bother him. But I understood. He needed me to react. Panic. Something he could fix. Poor man, he wanted to keep being my hero. I could feel his impatience, the way his fingers tapped against his thigh in a silent rhythm.
I pulled the covers back, smoothing my hair down, trying to convince myself that I had prepared for this. I was still in the clothes I'd worn the night before. I grabbed my phone, text my lawyer as Killian began to pace.
"Let's get this over with," I finally said after he texted me back.
Killian led me through house. It smelled overwhelmingly of flowers; arrangements were everywhere. Sunshine streamed through the windows.It felt homey. It wasn't what I'd expected from the outside looking in.
The agents were in the parlor. Two of them—a man and a woman in dark suits. Killian's grandfather sat in his wheelchair near the fireplace, his knuckles white around the armrests. Elara stood behind him, her expression unreadable.
"Ms. Landry," the female agent said flashing me her badge, stepping forward. "I'm Special Agent Reyes. This is my partner, Special Agent Morton. We need to ask you some questions about your disappearance."
"Why the FBI?" Killian snapped. "This should've gone through local police."
