Page 5 of Roots of the Wicked

I was bold enough to be a danger to myself, but my employees and responsibilities, where it concerned my growing company, kept me tame. My contract with Swift Capital was more important than my need to satisfy my personal interest.

I sprang up, feigning a stern expression before reaching across the table.

“Nice to meet you, Chase.”

My gaze landed on our hands because he didn’t let go right away.

“Let me walk you out,” he offered, before loosening his grip and starting around the table. Why the hell was this man so determined to keep me in his presence?

He came around the long table and stood at my side. No one uttered a word when he held the glass door open and followed me out.

We walked side by side in silence as charged currents guided our movements. His closeness caused an unnamed tingle to sizzle on my skin as my mind fought to absorb the enormity of him. The raw energy flowed into me and licked at my blood before it pushed through my veins, an introduction of a different kind. One that had nothing to do with our minds, but everything to do with our bodies.

“Mind if I ride down with you? I can use the break.” His tone was so low, deep, and husky it vibrated against my exposed skin, adding a little extra spice to the tingle already there. My gaze followed his finger to the down arrow he pressed, and I found his eyes waiting on mine when I lifted my head.

“No, I don’t mind,” I finally replied, taking in his tall, fit body. He was mountainous, at least six-four, and I noticed his dark suit made him appear leaner than he was. His hair was slicked back and tapered around his face and neckline. At close view, his body was manly, full, cut and. . . Leave it alone, Jax.

Riveting silence gripped us as we waited on the elevator. Why did it feel like the billionaire was stalking me? I’ve had my share of men checking me out to the point of creepy, but this was something else. I was caressed in waves of warmth that sent ripples along my skin, and rained desire down on me. Chase could touch me without his hands.

When I met his stare again, I smiled, but the probing glint in his eyes was plucking at more than my sexual desire. He was doing things with his eyes most men wished to do with their tongues.

The ding of the elevator’s arrival dragged my attention away from him. I stepped inside, hit the button that would take us to ground level, and backed myself against the wall. When Chase stepped in, he didn’t stand beside me as I assumed he would. He stepped straight ahead and into my personal space.

He towered above my five-six frame, but his gaze managed to sweep and outline my figure before he took my hand. His thumb swept across the thorny vine tattooed on the back of my hand. Did he know his boldness was turning me on? The fact that he was my boss was a dwindling memory as my lust had been set loose.

His free hand slipped up the side of my neck, sending a chill racing over my fevered skin. His soft stroke and the warm press of his hand around mine, kept me in place. With keen intensity, he examined my vine tattoo, stroking my neck with a light touch. He leaned in so close his warm breath feathered over my skin.

Although most of the tattoo was covered by my top, he traced the portion on my hand. He continued to trace it up my arm until he reconnected with the part visible on my neck. It occurred to me that he hadn’t just been talking to me at the table, he was studying me like I had been studying him.

His domineering behavior had my impulses revved, and my heart thumped a chaotic beat to keep pace with the tone we had set. Anyone else would have gotten a knee to the fucking balls for touching me like this. I didn’t know what the hell it was about Chase, but his daring touch kept me in line as I enjoyed the feel of his hands on me.

“There is something I have been dying to know,” he stated, allowing his bold cockiness to come out and mingle with his heated tone. Again, his fingers slid across the tattoo on my neck, at the same time his thumb pressed into the tattoo branching the span of the back of my hand.

“How much of your body does this tattoo cover?”

My words floated above my tongue, and I held them there because it was smart not to let this go any further. I glared at him with a devious smirk. There was no damn way I could let this man know, a man who I had barely shared a conversation with, that he had me on the verge of hitting stop on the elevator, so I could shove my pussy in his face.

Chase’s touch set off sparks within me, that I had yet to experience with anyone else. He was enjoying indulgences that I never before allowed. He was bold, confident, and didn’t appear bothered by my dominating nature.

My tongue slid across my lips, wetting them, tasting the desire blazing through my blood.

“No one has gotten the full view and, believe me, it’s more than a tattoo. It’s art, precious and untainted by undeserving eyes. Truth is, Chase”—I inched closer making the little space we had between us smaller—“I’ve never found anyone interesting enough to share it with.”

He leaned in, his hand tightening around mine, as his other held firm against my neck, adding just enough pressure to fuel my desire.

“I’m going to be the first.” The determination set in his expression and his tone made me aware that he believed every word he spoke.

My nipples tightened into aching peaks while my pussy quivered, leaking wetness into my panties.

He spoke with an authoritative edge. Almost like he stated a truth I was unaware of. No one had seen my full tattoo because it was for me. I would dim the lights, take off only what was necessary, used blindfolds, you name it. I took control, all of it, only allowing my lovers to see what I wanted them to see.

I didn’t respond to Chase’s arrogant comment because he had managed to get me so turned on my fevered mind was chanting, fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. All I could do was glance up at him, as I fought to contain images of fucking him across the table of the boardroom we’d just left.

Contrary to what I assumed, his history in the media and his smart appearance, led me to believe he was soft and easily influenced. My assumption had been dead ass wrong. He was hot as fuck and dripped the kind of sin I liked dipping into.

He was like the beautiful darkness that bent light, the shiny edge of a razor before it cuts, the flare of a flame before it burned. I wanted to breathe in his darkness, get nicked by his sharp edges, and get licked by the heat of his flames.

Jax!My inner voice was calling, but I was ignoring her ass. I wanted to play with this fire.

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