Chapter 49
LEARNING HE'S MY PRIORITY ONE turns him feral, or as feral as he's willing to become in the kitchen of his parents' house.
His breathing hitches in a gasp, lips slightly open as shock etches two lines between his eyebrows. And still, desire scorches an inferno in the depths of those green eyes.
Jace attacks me. One second he's staring at me, conflicted and caught between two raging emotions – desire and dread – and the next, he's folding, grabbing the front of my shirt to drag me down to his level.
His mouth smashes into mine and I go with whatever he wants, tingles and chills sweeping across my shoulders and arms where his hands slide over, around my neck, fingers tangling and combing and tugging my hair.
My hands find his waist pulling him flush to me. He makes a delicious gasp when I hoist him onto the island counter, and he pulls back long enough to gaze at me in a haze of lust.
"You're really strong, aren't you?" The smile he beams at me almost makes control slip. The animal side rears his head wanting nothing more than to ravage this gorgeous creature with mischief in his eyes.
I caress his lips with mine, my heart thundering at the way he leans in, the tips of his fingers tracing the shape of my ears. "Does that turn you on?"
The mischief sharpens. Pupils dilate, black circles growing twice its usual size, almost blacking out the green. Jace traces a finger across my bottom lip.
"Kiss me and find out."
I groan in frustration, in need, and in agony. Call me a masochist but this bratty, mischievous side of him excites the beast in me.
The kiss is deep and feverish. It's full of need and ignites the most primal desires between us. I step closer until I'm pressed against the counter with no more space left, and he can surely feel my arousal pressing between his thighs.
I half expect him to push me away. What I don't expect is for his legs to wrap around my hips, forbidding me from leaving even an inch of distance between us.
Thanks to that superhuman strength, Jace's weight doesn't affect me or throw me off balance when I pluck him off the counter, so taking him to the living room to the couch is no strenuous activity.
In fact, it spurs him on when he realizes I can do that with minimum effort while never breaking the kiss.
His hold tightens and he deepens the kiss, straddling my hips as I lean into the couch's backrest. He rears back, swiping the hair away from my forehead, lips curling as he traces the column of my neck, fingers dancing over my Adam's apple.
"Guess it really turns you on."
His eyes roll. "Shut up," he snaps, cupping the sides of my face and leaning down for more.
My hands slip under his jersey, exploring every inch of skin, climbing over dips and ridges, pushing his shirt up the higher I go. His breath swooshes out of him in a harsh gasp when I bite down on his neck at the same time that I pinch a nipple.
His shirt comes off the second and like the first time, I'm mesmerized by his body, giving into the temptation to touch and run my palms anywhere I wish.
Jace lets me do what I want, draping his arms around my shoulders as I pull him close.
He tilts his head, exposing his neck, satisfied sighs filling the house's silence as I kiss my way up from his chest and collar bone to his neck, pausing briefly to savor the feeling of his bobbing Adam's apple against my mouth.
I continue over his jawline and finally return to his lips.
The moment is shattered by the sound of a car engine pulling into the driveway.
"Shit!" he hisses, darting away from me and toppling to the floor. The coffee table shifts from its position when he dives for his discarded shirt, bumping into furniture, crawling over the ground. "My mom's home."
He scrambles to his feet. Laughter bursts out of me when he frantically reaches over, trying to fix my hair so that it doesn't look as though he's been tugging and running his fingers through it.
"Baby, I think you're going to need more help composing yourself," I point out. "Your face is red. Lips swollen." I point to a spot on my neck. "Plus, a hickey's starting to form right there."
"Asshole!" he mutters heatedly. Laughter bursts free again as he sprints out of the living room, practically diving into the adjoining hallway leading to the bedrooms. A moment later, his bedroom door slams shut just as the front door opens.
Kathryn Conner steps inside, heels clacking against the hardwood floor. Her lips twist when she sees me lounging on the sofa and wags a finger at me.
"I thought that was your car outside."
"Hey, Mrs. Conner," I greet with a small wave.
Kathryn surveys the living room and peeks into the kitchen. When she doesn't find what she's looking for – most likely her son hiding somewhere trying to regain a shred of dignity – she turns to me. "Where's Jace?"
"He went to get something from his room."
She casts a skeptical glance to me, the kind that says she knows far more than she's letting on. "Ah, I see." She glances back out the door. "Mind giving me a hand? I've got some bags in the trunk."
"Sure. I'll handle it, Mrs. Conner."
Kathryn steps further into the house, thanking me as I pass her on the way out to the driveway. The trunk is already open when I get to her car. Gathering all the bags which aren't many, I pull the trunk down and turn to head back inside only to pause when a black car one house away catches my eye.
I first noticed it when I arrived but paid no mind, thinking it belongs to one of the neighbors.
Yet, it's been close to an hour since I got here.
The car hasn't moved. The driver's side window is cracked open a quarter of the way and the person behind the wheel has most of his face obscured by a hood.
And he keeps frequently looking at the Conner's driveway, alternating between looking at his phone as I can see the screen's illumination through the lightly tinted windshield and back up again.
What the fuck?
Setting the bags on the step, I fish my phone out of my pocket and pull up Beta Chad's contact. It rings twice before he picks up.
"Chad Hayes," he answers.
"Do you not have my number saved or something?" I ask, eyebrows raised at his formal tone and highly offended though I know he can't see it.
Beta Chad chuckles. "I didn't check the caller ID. What's wrong?"
"I'm just confirming something. There are still police cruisers patrolling Jace's neighborhood, right?"
"I've given an order for seven days. Why? Did something happen?"
"No. I'm not sure." Irritation buzzes dangerously close to the surface when the suspicious person glances back to the Conner's residence. Again, he looks away too fast as if he'd been expecting me to have moved along. "Can I request an extension?"
"And I'll ask again, did something happen?" I hear the shift in Beta Chad's voice, from casual to business, a touch of concern that mirrors in some part what I feel and think. He is the mayor of this town and while he might be a Were, Jace and his family are civilians.
"Someone's outside their house."
"You're there?"
"Yes, and I'm looking at the fucker as we speak. Beta Chad, tell Dad I won't be coming home tonight. I'm not taking any chances."
"Sky don't do anything rash," he warns.
"Then let's hope that sketchy bastard isn't going to be a problem."
I've no issue sending another dumbass to the hospital. If I have to defend this family the way I did last Tuesday, then so be it. I won't risk their lives. I sure as hell will not risk Jace's.
"I'll order an extension until the end of the week and put in a request for a few plain clothes to keep a watch on the house," Beta Chad offers as a solution. I'm all too relieved that he's taking this seriously and not brushing it off as nothing has happened since the Conners moved back in.
"Thanks. Still, tell my dad."
"All right. Just be careful." I'm about to end the call when he stops me with, "And Sky, call for back up if things go awry."
I make no promises. "Sure."
Hanging up, I gather the grocery bags and return inside, mentally noting that the Conners don't have a security alarm system.
This neighborhood is relatively safe despite the multiple open yards.
Crimes such as home invasions don't happen frequently and the community is a tight knit one where neighbors usually look out for one another.
I've driven through this neighborhood – this street – enough times over the past week and that car isn't one I have seen.
With all that's transpired, I'm not willing to leave anything to chance.
Putting the bags on the island counter, neither Jace nor his mother have resurfaced so I busy myself helping out where I can, taking the groceries out of their bags, checking the cabinets and fridge to make note of what items go where.
I'm packing the crates of fresh meat into the freezer when Kathryn walks in.
"You don't have to do all of that, Sky."
"It's no problem," I tell her, grabbing another crate to put away. "I don't mind."
"Do you do this often?" she asks, coming forward to take the crate of chicken away from me. She puts it in a bowl and leaves it on the island counter.
"You could say so." Grocery shopping isn't a novelty.
I've been cooking and familiarizing myself with the kitchen since I was six.
Grocery shopping since I was twelve, old enough to be trusted to handle such domestic tasks when Dad couldn't – or more specifically, since I convinced my father he doesn't need to obsess over my safety every time I step out the house.
Jace lingers near the kitchen's entrance leading in from the hallway with the bedrooms. His face is flushed red in embarrassment, and a coy smile plays on his lips. His gaze traverses between his mother and me as we continue to talk, Kathryn asking about multiple things at random.
The more she asks, the brighter Jace smiles. The closer he inches into the kitchen until he's standing a foot away from me, leaning against a counter, arms crossed as he listens.