Page 64 of Roots of the Wicked

He spoke matter of fact and, although I wouldn’t tell him so, I loved the authoritative tone he often took with me. I enjoyed the challenge he presented, and found our butting natures more appealing than off-putting. How was I supposed to know I would like it? No one had ever really challenged me until him.

He lowered his lips to mine and stole a sensual kiss. The soft peck had me wanting him again, and not just the sex. His forehead pressed into mine before his words brushed my lips.

“We’re not just fucking, Jax.”

I wanted to argue, but I was out of reasons to give in my defense. We had blossomed into something out of my sphere of knowledge, and it would be foolish of me not to at least acknowledge it.

His hand slid across my ass and the rest of me automatically wrapped around him. Arms around his neck, legs around his waist, and pussy resting against his dick, which was as hard as it was moments ago.

“You’re determined to make me fall for you, aren’t you?”

“Is it working?” He asked with a teasing grin.

“I would rather not answer that question.”

He chuckled before kissing the tip of my nose. He eased back enough to capture my gaze with his.

“In my family, money and prestige are substitutes for happiness. Until you, I’ve never known what true happiness felt like. I want a chance to make you happy too. I know more about you in this short time than I know about friends that I have known for years.”

My face bunched with skepticism at his remark. His expression was laced with knowing, and I was willing to bet that he was about to wipe that doubt right off my face.

“Your favorite color is purple. I believe you can eat seafood every day for the rest of your life, you love it so much. You laugh the loudest at the corniest jokes. The tattoo on your back is laid out in a way that it doesn’t cover your birthmark, two small interlocking hearts. Your nose crinkles when you first wake up, like the idea of waking stinks. The picture of you and your father, sitting on your living room coffee table is your favorite. Clematis, the “queen of vines” is your favorite. I can go on for hours.”

His words left me stunned because these were intricate details he couldn’t find through a background investigation on me.

“I want you, Jax. While you’ve been thinking up ways to reject the idea of us, I’ve been paying attention. You’re a pretty extraordinary woman. You were keeping your guard up because of your past. You don’t have to do that anymore.”

Reaching over his left shoulder, I rubbed my hand along the back of it, until I found the large scar there. I did the same to his lower back, tracing my hand along the ridges of the long gash he had there. Finally, I touched the one on his bicep covered by his tattoo.

“I learned some of your personal business from your phone, but I’m pretty sure you got all of these scars from the unorthodox bootcamps your father put you in.” The surprise in his expression held a boyish charm that put a sparkle in his eyes. “You missed one,” he said. “You mean here,” I added, easing my fingers over his inner right thigh. “They almost got the family jewels, but I’m grateful they didn’t.” We both laughed before he eased me back into his caress.

We were so close, my rushed breaths bounced off his face. My heart knocked against my chest so hard, I know he heard it. He accomplished his goal and captured my full attention, so I could no longer hide the feelings I had for him. They were pouring off me and wrapping around him, mending us closer and strengthening our connection.

“This is not just attraction between us. We’re more than a single emotion. Jax, I…”

His words stopped so abruptly, my breath caught and my gaze shot up to follow his.

“What were you about to say?”

“Jax, baby. Don’t look back. Lay your head on my shoulder, and I’ll take you inside.”

“What? Why?”

His voice was laced with Panic. So, of course I peeked. The mini replica of a black helicopter hovered in the sky above us, the sound of its buzzing engine broke into my focus.

“What the fuck? Is that a fucking—”

“Drone.” Chase finished. “Just one time I would like to be left alone,” he growled, anger lacing his voice. He backed away from the rail with me snug against him, my legs still around his waist. I did as I was told for once in my life and placed my head on his shoulder.

Under the protection of signed NDAs by his staff, who’d assured us privacy, I’d foolishly allowed myself the freedom to live, only to have it crumpled into a tight life shattering wad.

My mind whirled. How much of us had that thing seen? The gravity of our situation hit like a wrecking ball. I had just fucked Chase with a fucking drone lurking around us.

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