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…His kind smile…
…My love gave me a locket…
It was clear Sarah was falling in love…but with whom? Maybe Dad was right; she had been sent off to a convent for an unfortunate pregnancy.
My mind began to wander down a path it should not stray down—the myth about the two families that found peace with a kiss at midnight. Had Sarah been one part of that? Was any of that rumor even true, though?
I paged through the diary, unsure of what I was hoping to see, but the more I saw how Sarah detailed her love and, more importantly, herunnamedlove, I concluded Sarah had fallen in love with someone she had not been permitted to love.
My head was all over the place: Dad’s deflection and ominous warning about Ethan, this mystery, Sarah’s disappearance, Ethan’s admission, my twisted emotions, and the Texas contract.
The Texas contract—it was my only way to get ahead of this business…but I was failing.
Dropping the book, I reached for my phone and called Mr. Dalston again… And this time, he answered.
“Miss Sullivan,” he greeted me. “I am glad you called. While we were debating your contract, my boss had to be called away. Give us a little more time; Mr. Portman is very busy at the moment with his ill son.”
“Oh,” I drew back, “Oh, of course, I understand. Please get in touch with me when you have a firm word on it, and my best wishes for his son.”
“I’ll relay the message. Thank you for understanding,” Mr. Dalston replied.
Dropping the phone, I sagged sideways on the bed. I was worried about nothing on that front, and while relief washed right through me, I decided to put that on the back burner and focus on the problem I had on my hand. Or in my hands, that is.
What happened to Sarah?
* * *
I didn’t sleep that night; instead, around ten thirty, I found myself scouring the internet archives for any record of Sarah Sullivan but found nothing—zip, zilch, nada. Eventually, I just went to bed, but the sleeplessness kept, and I found myself on Instagram, messaging Ethan. He was probably asleep, but I couldn’t rest.
Does your family have an archive? Can I snoop around later?
Setting the phone aside, I tried to sleep but still felt unsettled. My mind was on Ethan and how he had touched me, kissed me, made me combust from the inside out, and I wondered if I could—go and see him. It was the middle of the night, but…
I worried my bottom lip and checked my cell again. There was no reply from Ethan, and I wondered if he was asleep. Sighing, I laid back, ready for an uneasy night of tossing and turning… when my phone pinged, and I snatched it up faster than the speed of light.
Ethan:I have a stuff from my family at the Meadery on display.
I know it's late, but can I see it?
The three dots danced.Is that really what you want?
I sucked in a breath.No.
Then get over here before midnight, princess.
I grinned and replied:on my way.
* * *
When I got to his house, Ethan was shirtless, and his gray sweatpants left nothing to the imagination. He had me up against the closed door in minutes, his kiss rough, lustful, and devouring. When he pulled back for me to suck in a breath, his mouth found the rim of my ear.
I shivered and squirmed as his tongue ran over the delicate shell, and my nails dug into his muscular shoulders as he suckled on the sensitive lobe.
“I want your mouth around me,” he murmured hotly. “Have you sucked cock before?”
Ethan’s filthy mouth was turning my blood into fire, and my body was stiff with yearning. “A few times,” I told him, my words thick in my throat, “I don’t think I’m particularly good at it.”
His grin was devilish while he stepped away and gave me room. “I’ll teach you. Get on your knees.”
