Page 30 of Chasing the Flame (The Sacred Flames Of Ruin #1)

The answer smacks me right in the face… not a damn thing. He leans in, stopping just an inch away from my mouth. I don’t know why but I feel like I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire fucking life. Jettson seems to be waiting for something, permission perhaps?

My heart is pounding in my chest, anticipation crawling up my spine at an agonizingly slow pace.

I weave my fingers through his hair, relishing in the scents of pine and sandalwood flooding off him.

There’s an underlying smell, something that reminds me of pure masculinity.

The scent wraps around me, sucking me in and burrowing itself under my skin.

A tingling sensation ripples across my skin, fire erupting in its wake.

It barrels into my core, sending another delicious haze of need over me.

I don’t think, I just act. With my free hand, I grab hold of Jettson’s shirt, fisting my fingers into the fabric.

I run my other hand through his hair and tug.

“You’re right. He doesn’t deserve me,” I whisper, my eyes glued to his lips.

“Averie,” he breathes, his voice pleading and filled with desire.

It’s music to my ears, and the confirmation I needed.

Leaning in, I claim his mouth with a gentle kiss.

I knew it was over the minute my lips brushed against his—that my life would never be the same.

That I would never be the same again. The kiss is soft at first, reverent even, like we’re taking our time learning each other.

I melt into him, moaning when his teeth graze my bottom lip.

Then, a volcano erupts. The tension in the atmosphere heightens to a crescendo.

I match his ferocity with every kiss, tugging his hair and relishing in the groan that escapes his lips.

This haze is so fucking exhilarating, sucking me in and pulling me under.

It’s earth shattering, the feelings so goddamn consuming that I’m afraid I’m going to explode.

His tongue flicks against mine at a punishing pace, and I wrap my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he devours me.

His fingers have found their way into my hair, his free hand gripping my leg and hoisting it up and around his waist.

He slides that hand down my throat possessively, squeezing a little as he grinds his erection into me. A gasp spills from my lips, then a moan. Jettson smothers it with another kiss that’s just as mind-blowing as the first. It seems to stretch on for eternity, the two of us lost in one another.

I’ve never felt this way before. Nor have I ever been so wholly seen or cherished. Feelings of desire, respect, and something dangerously close to love flood the air around us. I can’t tell what’s mine, and truthfully, I don’t fucking care .

When Jettson pulls back, we’re both panting, our lungs heaving as we come back down to earth. We lean our heads together, my palms resting on his chest. “That was…” he says, his fingers trailing my collarbone.

“Yeah,” I breathe, fighting the blush threatening to creep up my neck. I’m suddenly feeling vulnerable—like that kiss changed everything between us, but I don’t know how to process that yet. So, I change the subject. It’s what I’m best at. “You mentioned something about a compromise?”

Jettson grins at me, his thumb idly caressing the side of my face in lazy circles. The man has me eating out of the palm of his hand, and he knows it. “How about this?” he drawls. “We go, but on two conditions.”

I blink, staring at him with wide eyes, sure that I misheard him. “W-what conditions?” His fingers move unbearably slowly, working their way up my arm, across my collarbone, and down my back.

“Condition number one, we stay together at all times. You don’t leave without me.

Condition number two, if at any point in time I deem it unsafe…

we leave . No questions asked, and no arguing.

If I say we go, we go. Can you live with that?

” He cocks his head to the side, looking at me like he’s waiting for another eruption.

I chew on my bottom lip, darting a glance to the right, at the portrait that hangs over the fireplace. Luke’s stern gaze looks down upon us, and my stoic expression in the painting is enough to make me cringe.

Guilt punches me in the gut, stealing my breath.

I shove it down, locking it away deep within until I’m ready to deal with it.

Turning back to him, I sigh and say, “Yeah, I think I can live with that. That’s why I showed you in the first place.

” I roll my eyes at him to emphasize my point. I don’t give a fuck if it is bratty .

He chuckles, “So, when do we go?”

“The contact said that we would meet at ten,” I say, glancing at my watch and frown. “We should probably go if we’re going to make it.”

“How do you know who to look for?” He asks me, a crease furrowing in the middle of his brow.

“Said to look for the dahlia,” I say with a shrug.

He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face in exasperation. “Well, come on. I’ll drive.”

Jettson backs up, reaching a hand out to me.

I lace my fingers in his, trying to ignore how right it feels.

We paused by the table in the foyer, and I grabbed my purse and keys, putting on a pair of Chucks.

Following Jettson out the door, I’m surprised when he reaches for my hand again, leading me to his truck.

In true gentlemanly fashion, he opens the door for me again, helping me inside. Once he’s behind the wheel, we hurry down my driveway, and as we drive away from my house, questions whirl around in my mind. The most prominent? What if this is all a big mistake?