Page 18 of Chemistry: The Chemist

With a shrug, I responded, “You’re a lot prettier when your mouth is closed.”

She found my observation humorous. My teeth ached from the grinding as her laughter reached parts of me reserved for a select few. Baffled, I chose silence. She was tearing down walls that were constructed for a fucking reason.

She barely had a right. Armed with a killer smile, fiery spirit, and a sharp tongue, she was rendering me defenseless even with my Glock off safety and the Tech under the seat.

“Does she know you’re en route to some destination with some woman who was preparing to slide down a pole minutes ago?”

“Do you?”

As the response tap danced on her brain, I used the opportunity to hike the sound of the stereo with the controls in the back where we sat. Her silence was what I’d been longing for and I’d finally been rewarded.

When she spoke, she caused a ruckus. I couldn’t handle her words. Her loud thoughts. Her confidence. Her beauty. Her fire. Not all at once.

“The fire within your mother, it will be the characteristic that leads you to choose your mate. Your wife will be beautiful, but she will be hell. There will not be much that is gentle or sheepish about her. She’ll be a force to be reckoned with and you’ll love her beyond your understanding.

“Beyond anyone’s understanding. She’ll be the first and she’ll be the only woman you’ll ever love more than your sisters. More than your brothers. More than… even more than your mother. She’ll be yours. And you’ll know it the second you see her.

“Without a doubt, if death becomes the result of loving her, you’ll leave Earth a happy man. Just like me. Just like him. Just like your stepfather. Just like Maurice.”

My father’s words haunted me. Tainted the moment. Made a mess of my thoughts. Rarely was he wrong. This instance was evidence he was, once again, accurate in his predictions.

Stop the car, Aden. Stop the fucking car, my conscience screamed, but no words escaped me.

Let her out. She needed to go. She wasn’t welcomed. But nothing in me was ready for her departure. Even the thought locked my limbs and plagued my existence.

I busied myself with the keypad on my screen, giving Aden specific instructions, including the small project that needed to be completed by the time I made it home with Eden in tow.

Women weren’t welcomed into my home or my heart, but there wasn't a doubt in my mind I’d be sliding into her warmth between the sheets I rested my head on nightly. Somehow, someway, the waterfront property and the penthouse suite felt beneath her. Beneath us.

Once instructions were finalized, I was ready to settle my thoughts and clear my head. I leaned against the seat, closing my eyes to catch my breath. The way my heart was hammering against my chest, it felt as if I’d run beside Olympians within the last hour.

Phalanges, those of the fingers to be specific, abruptly halted my peace tour. My eyes trailed a single arm, ending near my knee where Eden’s hand sat. Because I’d been wired to resist any signs of affection, naturally, my body craved movement. But, I couldn’t.

Stuck under her palm, I closed my eyes, again, blowing out the steam that had been building inside of me. Heat, transmitted from her body, elevated my temperature.

Eden, please.

She didn’t understand the concept of personal space. She’d obliterated the little was between us. And I was too fucking intoxicated by her existence to chastise her.

Please, I begged of her.

To my dismay, the calm I was in search of to settle the brewing storm that raged within me arrived. The peace I couldn’t find had found me. The disorganization of my thoughts was demolished. Concise thoughts replaced the others.

Fuck.

She bore no restrictions. As if she knew my body belonged to her. Just like I knew hers belonged to me. How she was privy to such information was baffling. How I’d come to the conclusion so quickly and felt so strongly about it was even more baffling.

Slow down.

The beat of my heart was loud. Alarming. Intimidating.

Move.

Eden was fucking with my head. I needed her out of my space. And like she’d heard me, she moved. This time, closer. Our sides pressed against each other.

Opening my eyes, I prepared to send her to the other side of the seat where she belonged. But, she looked so fucking good next to me. She felt so fucking good against me.

Her empty wrist was disappointing. Diamonds against that skin would be too fucking stunning to not be our realities. I made it my first point of business.

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