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Back Seasons of Chaos Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. Dedication
  2. Prologue
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. Epilogue
  66. Acknowledgments
  67. About the Author
  68. Books by Elle Cosimano
  69. Back Ad
  70. About the Publisher

“No, not to Peckham.” I may not be able to see the future, but I don’t need a crystal to see the long game in front of me. “Have your team in my office in an hour. Before this is over, Kai Sampson will come to me.”

12

Snatch Me Away

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JACK

The brush of Fleur’s lips over my scars sends a shiver through me. Her fingers trace the tight skin, awakening a longing that erases everything else. I close my eyes, soaking up the warmth of her body behind me. Suddenly, she goes still.

“Jack?”

My throat tightens as she whispers my name. Every nagging thought I’ve had over the past few weeks quiets as I turn toward her.

She glances up from the passports in her hand. Tears gather in her eyes as she sets them down on the blanket. Inching up on her knees, she places her hands on my chest, bringing her face close to mine.

“I changed my mind about the s’mores.” She leans into me until our foreheads are touching and my nose brushes her cheek. It’s wet with tears. I follow one as it slides toward the edge of her lips. Achingly slow, she tips her head, her mouth moving softly over mine.

I toss the skewer into the fire. My hands find her waist, tracing her shape. Her mouth tastes like salt and want.

A low groan rises inside me as the kiss deepens. My hands climb up her back as we rise to our feet. Unwilling to break apart, we stagger across the grass, bodies pressed together, fingers tangled in each other’s hair, all tongue and teeth and touch and breath, until her back collides with the wall of the villa and I can’t get any closer to her.

My cell vibrates in my front pocket.

“Your phone,” she pants.

“Don’t care.”

“What about the fire?” she whispers, her head thrown back against the side of the house.

“It’ll burn out.”

She gasps as my teeth graze her neck. Her hands slide under my shirt as we stumble into the house.

“What about the breakers?” she rasps. Her breath in my ear nearly undoes me. I can’t even form a coherent thought.

“Leave them off.”

We fumble through the dark, tripping into furniture as we maneuver blindly up the stairs, knocking over the burned-out votives on the landing as we slam into the wall. I’m desperate for air, but too hungry to let go. She peels my shirt over my head. Unfastens the top button of my jeans as we trip up the rest of the steps. I pull her hair free from its tie, the long pink ends tumbling down around her face, traces of her shampoo sweetening the air. I toss the lily carelessly to the floor as we reach the hall.

My fingers dig into her hips as I walk her backward into our bedroom.