Page 44 of After the Chase

Everything is exactly as it should be.

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHASE

I wake to the sound of heavy breathing and sit up in the bed to see where the noise is coming from. Noah is doing push-ups in the center of our suite, wearing nothing but his boxers. I watch as his body moves up. Down. Up. Down. His muscles flex and release with each repetition, sweat glistening on his skin in the morning light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

I don't move or speak. Just watch. His back is a canvas of black ink, his tattoos winding across his shoulders, down his spine, wrapping around his ribs. The muscles beneath shift and contract with each movement, creating patterns of shadow and light across his skin. His arms are thick with power, veins visible beneath the surface as he pushes himself up again and again.

Fuck me, this is the most perfect porn ever. I've seen Noah's body countless times, I’ve touched it, tasted it, been claimed by it, but watching him like this, unaware of my attention, is different. Intimate in a way that has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with possession. All I can think is that this perfect specimen is mine.

I reach for my journal on the nightstand, moving slowly so I don't disturb him. The leather-bound book falls open to a blankpage, and I begin writing, my pen moving quickly across the paper.

I'm watching Noah exercise. He doesn't know I'm awake. There's something hypnotic about the way he moves, totally in the zone. Every muscle in his body serves a purpose, but they have also hurt many people.

I want to touch him so bad right now. I want to run my hands down his back, feel the heat of his skin, the hardness of his muscles. I want to trace the lines of his tattoos with my tongue. But I won't say that out loud and tell him how much I fantasize about watching him like this, about the way his body looks when he's completely in his element, when he's demonstrating the physical control that mirrors his psychological control.

It's been three days since Noah met with Marcus at the clubhouse. Three days since he accepted the arrangement with the Blackrose Saints, solidifying our permanent move to this world. And I'm excited about what this means. Not only the power that Noah now has, but that we will have a home now and I will be near my brother.

Of course I’m nervous, as the risks are real, like rival organizations, the constant threat of attacks. But the fear is intoxicating rather than paralyzing, because it makes everything sharper, more vivid. I feel alive.

Noah is a psychopath. I've always known that, I have written about it, analyzed it, been intrigued by it. But now he's a psychopath with purpose and that makes him even more dangerous. But this new deal will protect him while he does what he was always meant to do.

Kill.

And I'm going to be right beside him, journaling this journey.

I pause, pen hovering over the page as Noah finishes his set and stands, rolling his shoulders. His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, sweat trailing down his sternum, disappearing into the waistband of his boxers.

He turns and sees me watching. Caught red handed lusting over him.

"How long have you been awake?" he asks.

"Long enough to enjoy the show."

He crosses to the bed with a feline grace. When he reaches me, he takes the journal from my hands, sets it aside and leans down, his hands bracing on either side of my body, caging me in. His face is inches from mine, and I can smell the salt of his sweat, and the minty breath from brushing his teeth.

"We have plans today," he says.

"What kind of plans?"

"We're viewing a property. A house on the outskirts of the city, close enough to Tyler but not so close they will become a fucking issue."

My heart skips a beat. "A permanent home."

"Yes. No more hotels." His hand moves to my jaw, thumb brushing my lower lip. "We're staying and putting down roots. I’ve also rented us a car as I’m sick of fucking taxis."

"Nice. So, this move, does that mean we are now aligned with the Kozlovs and the Blackrose Saints?”

“We’re part of that world now, yes.”

I should feel trapped, like the walls are closing in. But I don't, instead a sense of completeness fills me. I’m a willing captive. Noah’s work on me is complete, he has shifted my life into a new meaning, he has created what he wanted our relationship to be and I’ve never been happier.

"There's something else," Noah continues, his eyes locked on mine. "We've been invited to the clubhouse tonight. Anofficial welcome by Marcus, he wants to introduce us to the full membership."

"Both of us?"

"Both of us. I want them to see you and understand exactly who you are and who you belong to."