Chapter 653 Don't Act Spoiled
Killer thought to himself, she was a real seductress.
But Grace wasn't just any seductress; she was a bold one. Her hands roamed restlessly, sliding from Killer's chest down to his abs.
She tried to strip Killer's clothes off, a skill Xavier had taught her.
Just as her hand brushed past Killer's abs and ventured dangerously lower, Killer grabbed her wrist.
"Grace!" His voice was a warning, laced with danger.
"I'm not the guy you're looking for. Think about it, giving yourself to a stranger like this—do you think that's fair to him?" Killer's voice was tight.
It was as if he was trying to remind Grace, and himself, to regain some sanity.
Grace looked at him, confused, but her lips didn't leave his.
Killer regained his composure and pushed Grace away.
"I'll take you home." He was panting, his clothes disheveled from Grace's advances.
"I don't want to go home. I want to be with you." Grace clung to his chest, her arms wrapped around his waist.
Last time, Xavier had slipped away. This time, she wouldn't let him escape.
"Look closely, I'm not Xavier Montgomery!" Killer's temples throbbed.
He didn't want to be a stand-in.
Despite his words, he found himself getting closer to Grace.
Grace didn't care; she believed she was holding Xavier.
She even started climbing up his body, aiming to kiss him.
Killer turned his head to avoid her kiss, but Grace, frustrated, didn't give up. Her red lips landed on his chin.
She moved down, kissing his Adam's apple lightly.
It was more of a bite than a kiss, and Killer's Adam's apple bobbed, his whole body tensing.
"Grace!" He called her name in warning, but she acted like a triumphant little fox.
Grace climbed up again and kissed his lips. Killer couldn't push her away.
He could have used force, but at that moment, he didn't want to.
Grace was testing his self-control and patience at every turn. How could she…
Suddenly, Killer flipped them over, switching their positions. Now, he was on top, pinning Grace beneath him.
Killer leaned down and kissed her fiercely.
It was as if a beast inside him had been unleashed. Grace tasted too good, so good that even though he knew it was wrong, even though she might be someone Dorian sent, even though she mistook him for someone else, he couldn't stop himself.
No wonder Marcus said so many people liked his mom.
This Grace really had some skills.
Grace wrapped her arms around his neck, enjoying his kiss. On the couch, their bodies intertwined.
Grace had torn open Killer's shirt, exposing his chest.
Her hand touched something, and her eyes widened.
"Xavier, how did you get so many scars?"
That name snapped Killer back to reality.
Grace thought he was her husband.
A surge of anger, mixed with jealousy, rose within Killer.
He abruptly got up and buttoned his shirt.
He sat down, grabbed Grace's unfinished drink from the table, and downed two glasses, trying to calm himself.
"I'll take you home," Killer said, his voice rough.
"I want to go back to The Bameran Villa," Grace replied, her eyes misty.
Her lips were swollen from their kissing, and her clothes were disheveled. She looked like she had been through a lot.
She wanted to go back to The Bameran Villa, where Xavier was.
"Where's The Bameran Villa?"
Grace looked stunned. "How can you not remember The Bameran Villa? It's your home."
Killer's breath hitched. "I told you, I'm not the guy you're looking for. Get up, I'll take you home."
He was only going to take her to where she lived.
Killer was about to help Grace up, but she extended her arms. "Carry me!"
Killer was silent.
This Grace had a lot of demands.
"I'm not carrying you. Walk yourself!"
"Then I'm not going." Grace sat back down, pouting like a little girl.
"If you don't go, I'm leaving you here."
There was no way he was carrying her.
He shouldn't have come back. He should have left over an hour ago.
He didn't even know why he stood outside for so long before finally coming in, only to find Grace drunk.
Grace didn't say anything, just curled up on the couch, looking at him with stubborn, pitiful eyes.
That look was so pitiful, it felt like a knife stabbing into Killer's heart.
He should have just walked away, but his body moved on its own, kneeling in front of Grace.
"Get on."
Seeing Killer's broad back, Grace was finally satisfied. She put her arms around his neck tightly.
"Loosen up a bit!"
He was almost choking.
Killer stood up, realizing how light Grace was. She barely weighed anything on his back.
Grace rested her chin on Killer's shoulder, inhaling deeply. "You smell like cedar."
She was so close that her breath tickled Killer's ear.
Killer always thought of himself as cold-blooded. He hadn't drunk much tonight, but his face was flushed.
"What cedar smell?"
"You, you smell like cedar." Grace murmured.
She was sure she wasn't mistaken. That was Xavier's scent.
Killer pressed his lips together. He didn't smell like cedar. He only smelled of blood.
Carrying Grace downstairs, he saw her car still parked outside, the driver waiting inside.
Killer was about to put Grace in the car, but she tightened her legs around his waist and clung to him even more.
"I'm not getting in the car. You said you'd carry me home."
"When did I say that?"
"I'm not getting down, not getting down!" Grace refused to get off his back.
She felt safe with Killer. As long as she was with Xavier, she knew he wouldn't let her get hurt.
"Carry me home."
Killer was silent.
"Stop being a baby!" Killer tightened his grip on her legs.
Killer asked the driver where Grace lived. The driver mentioned the Coleman Villa. Killer checked, and it would take at least two to three hours to walk there.
Grace was doing this on purpose, wasn't she? Purposely torturing him?
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