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“Daniel,” I start, unsure how to broach the subject, scared he may get angry or worse. “What are we going to do? I need to go home soon.”

Daniel’s back straightens at my words. He’s angry.

He doesn’t answer me as he throws the hand towel onto the vanity. Silently, he carries the food over to the bed. He climbs in, settling in front of me.

“People will notice I’m missing. That my friends are gone.”

He still doesn’t speak as he scoops up a forkful of eggs and raises it to my mouth. A silent order. One that I happily follow.

“We eat,” he tells me, “then I’ll get us coffee.” He continues, his eyes focused on where a piece of bacon just disappeared into my mouth. He leans forward and fuses our lips, his tongue sneaking in and stealing the food he just fed me. “And then I will fuck you again,” he finishes.

Neither of us speaks after that, content to sit in silence while he takes turns feeding us. I give him a small, grateful smile as he lets me eat the last piece of bacon and the last of the syrup-dipped French toast, too.

Once every last bit of food is gone, his sticky fingers graze my mouth. My tongue peeks out to lick him, but a small taste isn’t enough. One by one, I draw his digits into my mouth, swirling my tongue around his fingers and sucking before I move on to clean off the next.

His heated gaze meets mine when he raises his freshly cleaned fingers into his own mouth. “I’ll go get us some coffee.”

Leaning down, Daniel presses his mouth to mine, once, twice, and then a third time before he pulls himself away and whispers against my lips, “Do not touch that door handle.” The sternness makes my thighs clench, and he watches my body react to him. “Good girl,” he growls.

The praise only makes my body even more needy, and I am wide-eyed and panting by the time the door closes behind him.

CHAPTERTWENTY

Daniel

Charlotte’s words echo in my mind as I head for the kitchen. She’s right. People will notice, and someone will come looking.

We have a few days at best. But she’s wrong about one thing—she’s never leaving. Not now, not ever.

That woman is mine.

I don’t know what startles the people gathered in the kitchen more—the grin on my face or the fact that it’s eleven in the morning and I am only now rousing.

“Look who finally decided to join us!” my sister teases.

“Looks like someone celebrated Halloween too hard.” Kaleb pokes me, the little shit. I kick out at his foot just as I pass.

“The pair of you, leave your brother alone,” my father reprimands. “Besides” — he grins — “I hear he brought a woman home.”

I feel my face heat at his wink.

Michael, the fucking loudmouth.

“You heard or youheard?” Kaleb laughs, my steps faltering at his question. Michael hearing or seeing Charlotte and me is entirely different than other family members.

“Your mother told me,” Dad confesses. “That all you kids got? I thought for sure you’d rib him more than that.” He laughs.

I look at my mother, who has busied herself at the counter throughout this exchange, scrubbing at the same spot while clearly listening.

I need her to know what it means to me, what her loyalty means.

I stop once I am right behind her, but she doesn’t turn or look at me.

Bending, I place a quick kiss on her cheek. “Good morning, Mom.”

All the noise in the room evaporates. Even the hum of the coffee machine seems to dim.

All at once, my family’s voices ring out together.