Rogan Page 17

  He withdrew and wiped my lip with his thumb. "That felt so damn good." He settled his body over me, supporting his weight with his elbows. "You're gonna have to walk around with my dick in your mouth. I want that all the time."

  I laughed. "We'll see."

  He settled next to me and kissed me gently. "You okay?"

  "Yes. I loved watching you find your release."

  "I've been wanting you a long time. So much better than I'd imagined."

  "You imagined us doing that?"

  "Mmm. And many other things."

  "Thank you for giving that to me."

  He chuckled and pressed kisses from my lips down my throat. "Pretty sure I should be giving the gratitude about now."

  He lay on his back in the sand and pulled me on top of him so my head was on his chest and my leg crossed over his. We held each other, catching our breath, enjoying the stolen silence.

  His pecs contracted as he did an ab curl. "There's your sunset over the ocean."

  Rich carmine streaked with salmon painted the sky, ending at the horizontal line of the azure sea. "It's more dazzling than I ever could've dreamed."

  He pressed his lips to my temple. "I want more of you, but we should get back for dinner with the spouse of the prime minister."

  "Okay."

  We stood and brushed the sand off. He kept his eyes on me as I dressed. As soon as I tied my sundress, he kissed me deep and hard. When he pulled away, I studied the beard growing in around his playful grin.

  Each time Rogan let his guard down, his lips and face became less intense and my attraction to him skyrocketed. Now that I knew how masterful his hands were and how good it felt to suck his dick and watch him come undone, I wanted to do it over and over again.

  He pressed a finger to my lower lip after my tongue swiped along it. "Later. More."

  "But we have separate rooms."

  A chuckle rolled from his chest as he slung an arm over my shoulder, and we walked in the sand back to Morning Glory.

  Chapter 24

  "This lobster is delicious," I declared to the Foors and Rogan at the dinner table in the mansion.

  Rogan stopped eating and held his fork mid-air to watch me suck the meat from the cavity of a claw.

  "Yes, caught fresh for you today," Bastien said as I blushed at Rogan's acute stare.

  Rogan resumed eating slowly, but his gaze darted from my lips to my cleavage and back again as I wiped the dripping butter from my chin. We'd breached an intimacy levee today, causing steaming hot floodwaters to flow over the barriers. He'd better tone it down or his mom and stepdad would catch on. The sexy button-down shirt and dark jeans he wore to dinner didn't help with my trying to play it cool act.

  Maybe talking to his mom would divert his attention. "So, Gwen, what's it like being the wife of the prime minister of Saint Amalie?"

  Nope. He continued to devour me with his eyes.

  "I'm very fortunate, Tessa." She smiled and touched Bastien's hand. "I live in paradise with the man I love."

  "Don't paint it so idyllic, Gwen," Bastien replied as he took her hand. "The people here face unique challenges, and though we are a small contribution, we share in the global economy."

  "Yes, Bastien, but Tessa and Rogan are on vacation. Let's not speak politics and world devastation." She smiled at her husband.

  His eyes softened as he gazed at her. "You're right, my love."

  "My mother is a decorated humanitarian." Rogan spoke up. "She fights for displaced people and women's rights."

  "Speaking of which, have you heard from Marla Brightman lately?"

  Rogan's shoulders stiffened at his mother's question.

  "Who's Marla Brightman?" I asked.

  "I thought you said we'd skip the politics." Rogan didn't look up from his plate.

  "She was the director of central intelligence when I first worked with her." Gwen continued as if Rogan hadn't spoken. "She's been appointed American secretary of state. Hasn't she, Rogan?"

  Rogan clenched his jaw and dropped his fork on his plate.

  "He serves under her. She—"

  "Mom." He glared at her.

  "I'm sorry, sweetie. I should follow my own advice, shouldn't I? So, change of topic. How was your ride today?"

  I coughed and took a sip of my tangy sorrel tea.

  "Good." Rogan turned his gaze to Bastien. "You should take Morning Glory in the water more. She loves it."

  "I'll make a point of it. If Gwen and I can't do it, her handlers will see to it."

  We ate in silence for a while, everyone chewing on the subtle tension between Rogan and his mother.

  "If you two get married"—Gwen smashed the silence with a sledgehammer—"you'll have the wedding here. The Amalian ceremony is so romantic."

  "Mom."

  "You can't deny your mother the attendance at your wedding. Not twice."

  I gulped down the bite of coconut rice in my mouth. Twice?

  "My only son will allow me to be present at his marriage, and you will take your bride," her eyes flickered to me, "in the traditional way. She can still wear white if she wishes, but the Amalian silks are stunning. She might enjoy incorporating them with her gown."

  Rogan stood and tossed his napkin over his plate. "Thank you for dinner, Mom. Bastien." He stomped out of the room, leaving me staring at his back as he headed for an exit.

  Gwen wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin. "Dessert, anyone?" She looked from me to Bastien.

  "No, thank you. I'm stuffed." I glanced at the doorway Rogan had passed through. "I'd like to get some rest now, if that's okay?"

  "Yes, dear. You'll sample the local sweets tomorrow. Let me show you to your room." Gwen stood and walked to me.

  "Thank you for dinner, Bastien," I said as Gwen took my elbow.

  "You're welcome. Sleep well."

  His mother led me up the stairs. "This will be your room. Rogan's room is there." She pointed to a door at the end of the hallway. She looked back the way we came. "He's probably at the pool now."

  "Okay. Thank you. I'm so happy I met you."

  "You too, darling. You're lovely for him."

  I waited five minutes before embarking to find Rogan. As his mom thought, he was in the pool, racing punishing laps with no breaks, not even for a breath. Each angry stroke of his arms transmitted pain and goodbye. His mom intentionally dropped a bomb that would separate us for good. Rogan was married. Our fledgling love deflated to the ground again before it could take flight. It didn't make sense. If he was married, why would his mom say I was good for him? Why had he never told me about her?

  Two hours later, Rogan's voice echoed in the hall as I lay in my bed. I cracked the door open to peek out. Rogan stood in his swim trunks, dripping water on his mother's carpet. His head was bent low as he towered over Gwen standing by his side. She placed her palm on the E on his bicep. He tilted his head and looked at her hand. She added another hand at the base of his neck and spoke softly to him. He nodded and bent to kiss her forehead. He walked toward his room with his head down. I ducked back inside, hoping he didn't see me spying on his private moment with his mom.

  I ran to my bed and pretended to be asleep in case Rogan came to see me. But the knock never came. The door never opened. He'd passed by my room to be alone in his.

  Chapter 25

  A kiss on my cheek woke me. Rogan had crawled in the bed next to me, silent and stealthy. My stomach dropped, and my body heated as his strong form inched closer. His hand landed on my belly and slid up under my breasts. I grabbed his wrist and he froze.

  "Tess…"

  "Who is Chantal to you?"

  "She's my stepsister."

  "She didn't seem like a stepsister."

  His body tensed, and he squeezed my middle.

  "You've been with her."

  "Tess…"

  "Was she your first?"

  He sighed. "We were teens. We're friendly now. Don't be jealous."

  "You've dated all these exotic wo
men. Tori and Chantal…"

  "No comparison." He kissed my nose. "I never wanted anyone half as much as I want you." He pressed his lips to my neck.

  I ignored the shiver racing down my spine and turned my head to search for his eyes in the shadows. "But was she your first?"

  "Yes." His voice was thick in the darkness.

  "Tell me."

  "You want me to tell you about the girls I dated when I was a teenager?"

  "Yes. I want to know. I told you everything."

  "Chantal and I had a brief fling when I first moved here. But she's my stepsister. We quickly fell into the role of siblings after that. No big deal."

  "Your mom mentioned your wife."

  He clicked on the light and sat up with his back against the headboard. "She did."

  "Is that why you swam for hours?" I propped up on one elbow and looked up at him. "Are you still married?"

  His brow furrowed, and he stared over my head.

  "Do you love her?"

  "Let it be, Tess."

  "Is she who you think of when you stare out the window?"

  His lids lowered, and he shook his head. "Why this? I've given you so much. Why do you need her too?"

  "Because I think this is the most important part of you. Is she why your heart isn't free?"

  I climbed out of the bed and pointed at him. "Why have you been chasing me if you're married? Did you think I'd be okay with sharing you? Did you think the poor girl with a polygamist father would—"

  "Fuck!" He shot up and stalked to the door.

  "What, Rogan? Are you gonna call me stupid and flee to the desert to get yourself killed?"

  He stopped and spoke with his back to me. "Stay here. Wait for me."

  I flopped back into bed and clutched a pillow to my stomach. Waiting for him was torture, even for a few minutes.

  When he returned, he opened a small blue velvet bag and poured the contents onto the nightstand. "This. This is what I think about when I stare out a window, when I swim, all the fucking time."

  "Diamonds?"

  He picked up a ring with a tarnished silver band. A petite square diamond in a simple setting adorned the top of the ring. He held it flat in his palm. "This is her. This is my love for her."

  He scooped up a handful of polished diamonds and dropped them slowly onto the nightstand. They pitter pattered, a few falling to the floor. "This is us."

  "I don't get it."

  "We're bigger overall. More valuable. But scattered."

  "Please, tell me about her, Rogan. I want to know."

  He ran his hand over my head to my neck, where he gave me a gentle squeeze. "No one can ever know the story I'm about to tell you. Lots of reasons, but mostly your safety. The people I've gone up against have a long memory. The few that are still alive could come after me. Or you."

  "I promise."

  He sat next to me in the bed and settled us so my head rested on his hip. "The special ops unit I told you about is called Delta Force. We refer to it as "the unit." The most skilled marksmen from all of America's military are pooled together to create an elite hostage rescue and counterterrorism team. Delta Force is above the law, sheltered by the CIA. We go where traditional troops can't. No one in the unit has a wife back home. If you do, you don't keep her long. You eat, sleep, and breathe your mission."

  "Okay."

  My head rose and fell with his deep breath.

  "After my tenth combat deployment, my commanding officer invited Falcon and me to his house for dinner. Said he was recommending us for Delta Force as a sniper team. We were thrilled as fuck."

  "So how'd you meet her?"

  "Eden was my commander's daughter. Ten years younger than me. Only nineteen years old. Too young. She was wild, an Army brat. I never should've approached her, but I had a lapse in judgement. I was so full of myself, high with the thrill of the recommendation from her dad. We fell in love and got married within a few weeks of knowing each other. The timing couldn't have been worse."

  "Love happens when it happens. We can't control it."

  He stroked my hair behind my ear. "We'd only been married four months when I got deployed on my first Delta Force op, an extremely high risk mission in Kabul Province. She freaked out. Said she'd follow me to Afghanistan. We fought over it, and I left her at the airport with strict orders to stay put. Not three days later, I was preparing for the mission at a forward operating base outside Kabul when I received a message she was in the Stan, waiting for me at a safe house in Kabul City."

  I sat up and stared at him. "She flew to Afghanistan?"

  "She did. She used her father's credentials to get in through the military base."

  "That's crazy."

  "It is. I was so pissed, she had me questioning my decision to marry her."

  "So what'd you do when you found out she was there?"

  "I went AWOL. Ran nine treacherous miles to her. I had to get her on a plane back home. She wouldn't leave. Said we needed to be together. We were uh, talking, when I heard a noise out on the street. I'd been followed. They came in the front, so I sent her out the back. I never shoulda done that. I should've gone with her. But they were in the house. I had to hold them off so she could make it to the car. But they got her anyway. After they were dead, I found her car empty behind the house with the keys in the ignition. They took her."

  "Rogan…"

  "I searched for her for forty-eight hours, banging down every door in that village. I confessed the whole story to Marla Brightman. She was director of the CIA then. She flew to Bagram to help. We made contact with them. Their leader hated me. Ahmed Hakim Osmani. He called himself Mustafa, the chosen one. Special Ops Command assigned him the codename Jericho, the fallen one. He posted a video. He raped her, my wife. The video…"

  He hung his head and smashed his forehead with his palm. "She was wearing my T-shirt."

  I blinked through my tears. They tortured Rogan too. They raped him and tortured his soul. They broke the unbreakable man.

  "I'm trained…" His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "I'm trained to withstand anything. Rape me. Fuck me up the ass. Cut my guts out, but leave her the fuck alone." His voice dropped to a harsh empty gasp on his last word.

  A sob bubbled in my chest and erupted from my mouth in a burst of air. I pressed my hand over his heart as it thumped a frantic beat in his chest.

  "It wasn't a random kidnapping. Jericho planned it out to target me. The Executioner. I led them right to her."

  "It's not your fault."

  "When we sign up to serve, we vow to die for our country. But not her. She was innocent. She was supposed to be outside it. She never should've been there." He rasped out his words through clenched teeth. "Jericho demanded seven million in exchange for her release. Marla Brightman tried to feed me some protocol bullshit. When I saw the rape video, I lost my shit and she had me confined on the base. I was helpless. Nothing I could do."

  "What happened?"

  "I escaped."

  "You escaped?"

  "With the help of Alpha Squadron. Diesel, Blaze, Falcon, Ruger, Oz. They busted me out. The same men who went back with me in July. They took on the mission to save her with me. Diesel pinpointed their location from the website video. We surrounded Jericho's compound. Ready to raise hell and get her back."

  He paused and I gave his hand a squeeze to let him know it was safe to tell me.

  "Before we could enter the compound, a random group of Afghan rebels launched grenades in there. I watched the place light up right in front of my eyes. Watched Jericho and his brothers run out of the building and escape. I charged in, praying like fuck she'd survived. Koda found her. Injured. Injured bad. Her intestines…"

  He must have read the shock and pain in my face. "I'll spare you that part. I carried her out to our helo. She died in my arms in transport to base. I kissed her goodbye. Her blood coated my lips."

  "I'm so sorry."

  "They shipped her body back to the States. Had to watch her
parents bury their daughter because she fell in love with me. They'd already lost a son." Twisted anguish creased his temple and forehead. "Her father pressured Brightman to rain down on me for all the shit I stirred. I'd gone AWOL twice, gone rogue against all kinds of orders, risked the lives of many men. They were considering the death penalty."

  "No!" They couldn't kill Rogan. No!

  "Brightman called me for a one-on-one meeting. She was torn up about it. The toughest woman in the White House closed her eyes and cried for my loss. We struck a deal. She granted me clemency in exchange for my future service on Delta Force. The government wouldn't persecute me for going AWOL or my other crimes if I agreed to take on specialized high risk—highly illegal—missions and be available and ready whenever they called me. If anything went wrong, I had to say I'd gone rogue and face the consequences. They wouldn't back me up. I accepted their terms with the caveat we go after Jericho, and my team and I got to kill him. She told me she'd get my request through if she was elected secretary of state and let me know when it was approved. We crafted a public story of honorable discharge. I'm still enlisted. I'm still Delta Force."

  "So that's why you tell people you're retired military?"

  "Yes. It took four years for her to get Operation Devil's Gate clearance. During that time, I worked for Dallas Monroe managing his personal security. He knows about my wife's death and my involvement in Delta Force. We have an arrangement where I have long unannounced periods of leave to go on missions. All the guys in the unit made similar deals with Brightman and Monroe."

  "So, you shut down your whole life waiting for Brightman to get you clearance to avenge Eden's death?"

  "I didn't see the purpose of trying to live again until Jericho was dead."

  "That's a long time to wait."

  "I'd wait as long as it took."

  "Is that when you dated Tori? While you were waiting?"

  "I didn't date her. She showed interest. I'm still a man and I gave it a try. I thought she might be the catalyst I needed to pull me out of the depths I'd made my home for years. On the night of Dallas's wedding, Tori ended up caught in the crossfire of an enemy of Dallas Monroe's. Totally my fault she was shot."