Page 52 of Roots of the Wicked

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jax

My lips refused to remain closed as Chase walked me toward the floating, five-star hotel that was his yacht. Until we’d approached it, I was once again reminded about Chase’s wealth.

“Be willing to sacrifice something, even if it’s profit to give back to yourself. You don’t take the time to enjoy it.”

He had spit my words back at me, reminding me he was taking the advice I had given him. We’d been driven to New Jersey to gain access to New York Bay. The bay would empty us into the Atlantic Ocean and set us free to roam. I could imagine the large amount of behind the scenes planning, fees, and paperwork filed to give us a weekend of peace.

Since we had linked up, I didn’t get the impression Chase’s aim was to impress me with money. We talked about the intricacies of running a business, but he had never turned to subjects about his material possessions or his bank accounts.

He didn’t allow his status, or popularity to affect our time together. I appreciated that aspect of him. His ability to be real, to not power trip, or make demands of me that he expected to be followed. He had the ability to fascinate me and keep my interest.

He could step into his everyday life, get what he wanted with the snap of his finger, but with me, he was just Chase. During the week he would find any excuse to call and I obliged him, enjoying our silly talks and serious ones.

He was like anyone I’d dated. He was observant and paid attention to issues and concerns I didn’t think he had noticed. He noticed that I avoided conversations about parts of my childhood, and although he didn’t push, he ask me to share stories with him.

In talking to him, I was finding Chase to be funny, and more down to earth than I had given him credit for. He harbored the incredible ability to make me laugh and could keep a conversation going for hours. Throw in the best sex of my life, and it had become difficult to distance myself from him.

I had never had this type of lasting back and forth with anyone. I believed we were becoming friends in the midst of him attempting to convince me into a relationship.

Despite the questionable decisions I was making where Chase was concerned, serious second thoughts plagued me as we closed in on the yacht. The same evening we left after having dinner with his family a week ago, I’d allowed him to talk me into abandoning work to spend this weekend with him.

He had also walked boldly into my apartment, ripped my clothes off, and fucked me senseless against my front door. Like before, he laid with me on my couch, and held me afterwards, daring me to protest.

Despite all the warnings and doubt I presented him, Chase kept pressing onward. A mountain of reluctance kept badgering me to end it with him, but he hadn’t given me a reason to. Your past is going to seep out and destroy him. Name one successful relationship you’ve ever had. You’re not built to carry on a long-term relationship. Your number one rule; avoid emotional attachments. Keep it short, and sweet to avoid hurt and pain.

I shook away my irritating thoughts and concentrated on the little slice of happiness I had finally agreed to after Chase had spent hours convincing me that I should have fun.

Last week it was his family home that made the most extravagant five-star resort resemble a shack, and this week it was his yacht. I squinted, adjusting my focus at the name, Acquired Taste, in big fancy letters printed on the boat’s stern. “You did not!” I shouted before cupping my mouth with both hands as a pleasurable chill of elation ran through me.

My shuffling feet against the thick wood of the dock had stopped me in my tracks at the sight of the words. I stood in place stunned, my heart hammering in my chest.

Chase laughed. “Yes, I did. I was determined to find a way to get you to toss away doubts about spending time with me,” he stated, reading me and my reluctance like a pro.

There was no true description for the feelings that had so suddenly flooded me. Pride, happiness, and the unshakable notion that I was falling for Chase. No one had ever done anything for me so awe-inspiring or romantic.

Raw emotion surfaced as I studied the words, painted in purple, my favorite color, on the white surface of the boat. The beauty of his gesture touched me so deeply I was forced to shake away the sting of tears that formed at the back of my eyes.

We walked side by side, his warm hand cupping my lower back. My head dropped against the side of his shoulder, the weight of his surprise leveling me in the best possible way. I grinned the entire way, as the name disappeared from the stern view and grew larger as it was also painted on the starboard and port sides.

Unable to wipe the silly smile from my face, an overwhelming sensation of joy overtook me and caused me to hold tighter to Chase’s hand, after he had taken mine. The gesture pleased him, so much so, he lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a warm kiss to the back.

The footfalls behind us, reminded me that one of his staff members had been following with our luggage. After Chase had picked me up, he’d informed me on the drive that six staff members would be joining us on the boat. All of his staff had sign NDA’s, which made me feel comfortable about our privacy being protected.

There was Timothy, the yachts Captain, a portly middle-aged man with shaggy hair and a ready smile. Cathy, a middle-aged graying blonde who was the skinniest cook I had ever seen. There was Frank, a beefy younger man from the security team who followed with our bags. Those were the ones I had seen so far. There were already three aboard the boat, preparing it for our weekend getaway.

I tilted my head, eyeing him. “Chase, are you sure six staff members are enough?”

He paused his steps, chewing on my question.

I placed my hand atop his when he retrieved and lifted his phone preparing to make a call. “I was joking.” I told him.

Chase had an army of people at his fingertips, ready and waiting to fulfill his every request. Once aboard, we took a moment and enjoyed the view from the deck before he escorted me further.

When we walked into the saloon, I took in the opulent décor. Everything in my line of sight was varnished hardwood finishes with gold trimmed edges. An authentic Persian rug adorned the hardwood floor that was as shiny as glass.

Every piece of furniture appeared handpicked by a top designer and flown in from wherever it was purchased. There were beige leather couches and chairs, crystal tables, and silver trimmed plant stands. A glass and wood staircase resembling a beautiful rounded suspension bridge sat in the far corner of the room. There was a lit hall on the other side of the stairs providing access to the quarters.

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