Rogan Read online

  "Fuck you." Rogan sat down on the couch in the living room and tossed the box next to him. He put his feet up on the coffee table and clicked on the TV.

  "As I was saying... Your turn, Swift." Blaze tilted his head at me.

  Hmm. Obviously they expected me to say something about sex, but I didn't want to announce my virginity to the whole table.

  Following Blaze's lead, I said, "I've never had sex in a car."

  They all took sips of their beers and looked at Diesel for his turn.

  "I've never sucked cock." Diesel kept his eyes on Yolanda.

  "Ugh." Yolanda groaned. "So unfair." She took a sip of her beer.

  Diesel swiveled his gaze to Blaze and raised an eyebrow. Blaze took a casual sip of his beer. What did that mean? Did I understand the rules correctly? Did Blaze just admit to being gay?

  All eyes came to me to see if they had me. The truth is Zook and I had experimented with it a few times when we were out at the reservoir. His dick was in my mouth when my father caught us. I took a sip of my wine cooler before the horrid memories and pain of that day showed on my face.

  Rogan glanced at me when I pressed the bottle to my lips. He masked his expression and turned his attention back to the TV. Why did it always feel like he knew what I was thinking?

  "I've never tasted pussy," Yolanda announced to the table.

  Diesel and Blaze smirked as they raised their beers again.

  "Would you like to?" Diesel asked Yolanda.

  She peered at him with a twinkle in her eye. A naughty grin lit up his face as he trailed one hand up her thigh, the other curling behind her neck to pull her in for a kiss. I squirmed in my seat and searched the room for something else to focus on.

  I stopped on Rogan's eyes locked on me. His tongue ran over his top teeth under his lip like he was chewing on something. The hunger in his face sent a tremor from my chest to my belly. My hand slid down the bottle of my drink, and I gulped back the lump in my throat.

  "Knock that the fuck off, you two," Blaze said.

  What? Huh? Did he catch the heated look Rogan and I were sharing?

  "Diesel, you need to move your ass into Yolanda's place tonight. I'm sick of this shit."

  Whew. He wasn't talking to us.

  Diesel pulled away from a dazzled Yolanda. "You can wait a few more weeks. Make her mama happy."

  "Yes, because making her mama happy is such an important part of my life. God, Diesel, you're so whipped."

  "That I am." Diesel gazed lovingly into Yolanda's eyes.

  The passion painted on their faces was so tangible, watching them intruded on their privacy.

  Blaze started talking and gave me an excuse to look away. "Hey, Swift. You should come live here when Diesel leaves. Got two bedrooms. You'd have your own bathroom. It's not the Bel Air, but it's a decent place to crash."

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Rogan stand.

  "Ooh, I love that idea." My father would absolutely hate me living with a male roommate. "When's the wedding?"

  "Two weeks," Yolanda answered my question.

  "Cool. And, Swift," Diesel chimed in, "you're coming to our wedding."

  "What? No. I can't. I'd have no idea how to get there."

  "Boggs'll take ya," Diesel said.

  "Oh please. I'd love to have her there," Yolanda begged.

  "That settles it. My bride wants her there. You'll bring her to watch me tie my can to Yolanda's bumper."

  Yolanda slapped him on the bicep.

  "I'll take her," Blaze said with his beer raised over the table.

  "No. I'll take her." Rogan's voice boomed from behind me.

  "Okay, Boggs, whatever. My turn again. I've never taken it up the ass." Blaze focused on Diesel, who held his gaze and defiantly didn't raise his beer. Blaze tipped his bottle toward Diesel and… took another sip. Okay. I totally didn't understand the rules to this game. If Blaze was following them, he'd totally admitted to sucking cock and um, taking it up the ass.

  "Damn you, Blaze." Yolanda took a sip of her drink, oblivious to whatever the heck was going on between Diesel and Blaze.

  As I shook my head and laughed, Rogan's firm hand wrapped around my upper arm and yanked me up from the table.

  "Hey! What're you doing? We were having fun." Blaze stood to stop Rogan, but we were already at the door.

  "Uh, bye..." I said to the group as Rogan hauled me out of their apartment.

  My ankles twisted in my heels as he dragged me through the corridor and into his place. Good thing he held me up because I must've looked like a drunken scarecrow.

  He ignored Takoda's greeting and pegged his gaze on me. "How drunk are you?"

  "Not at all. I was winning that game before you pulled me away."

  "Why're you walking like that?"

  "I can't walk in heels, drunk or sober."

  As I talked, he dipped his chin and crowded me backward. "Moving in with Blaze is not a good idea."

  "Why not? I need a place, and he'll have an empty room in two weeks." My legs bowed out as I wobbled on my heels.

  The weight of his big hands squeezed my hips and forced me back till I hit the wall. "You can do better than that place."

  "It's just temporary. I'll look for an apartment of my own eventually, after I get more settled."

  My awareness shifted from our conversation to the heat of his body invading my space. Standing close to Rogan was like being right up next to Traveler. A powerful beast that could smash your skull in with one kick of a hoof, but you know she won't because her shrewd eyes communicate with your soul.

  "You wanna tell me how a girl who grew up on a fundamentalist commune has... sucked cock?"

  Sweat beaded on my skin, and the air between us thickened. "If you think that place wasn't sexually charged, you're wrong."

  "Really?"

  "Mmm-hmm. There's an undercurrent of sex to everything. Girls know real young they'll be getting married, and they wonder who they'll get. They dream of having sex and making babies. We're taught all about intercourse and making sure the man is pleased."

  "Hmm."

  "One husband is sleeping with eight, ten, thirty women. Sometimes he takes two or three at a time." I lowered my voice to a whisper. "It's all about the sex."

  "Huh." He stared at my mouth as I teased my bottom lip with my teeth.

  "Did you have a boyfriend back home?"

  I nodded, keeping my eyes on his. "We kept it secret."

  "How long?"

  "Started when we were both sixteen."

  He pressed his palm flat to the wall over my head. "You have sex with him?"

  "Rogan..."

  "Tell me."

  "No."

  "No you won't tell me, or no you didn't have sex with him?"

  "I didn't have sex with him."

  "When did it end?"

  "When I was eighteen. My dad caught us and sent him away."

  "What was your boyfriend's name?"

  "Why does it matter?"

  "Want his name."

  "Zook Guthrie."

  "Did you love him?"

  "I don't know. He was my only friend when I was a teenager."

  "Do you still love him?"

  "No. I haven't seen him in years. I rarely think of him. It came up because of the game." And because you're much sexier than him, and I want you more than I ever did Zook.

  His gaze dipped to the cleavage above the buttons of my blouse and dropped to my feet. His lips mashed into a crooked line. "You got ice-cream cones on your shoes?"

  "Aren't they cute?"

  "Mmm-hmm."

  My breath caught in my throat when he leaned in close to my ear. "Cute." His earthy scent drifted to my nose. I closed my eyes and inhaled, holding a piece of him captive in my lungs.

  His lips skimmed along my ear. They felt as smooth and soft as I'd imagined. I angled my head to press his mouth to my temple.

  A magnetic force drew my hands up to settle on his stomach. My fingertips only grazed his abs,
but his raw strength charged through my arms.

  He dipped one shoulder and weaved his fingers into the hair at the base of my scalp, tugging till my head tipped back. "Tempting."

  My breath left me and my frame went weak. He supported my weight with his arm and trailed his nose along my raised jaw. "So fucking hard for you right now."

  My fingers curled into his shirt.

  Come closer. Kiss me.

  A frustrated growl emanated from deep in his chest. He clenched then released my hair and inched away from me like he was fighting a fierce wind.

  He tilted his head down and glued me with his golden eyes. "Goodnight, Sunshine." His voice softened.

  With each step he took backward, the kinetic energy between us cooled. I pressed my hands to the wall to ground myself.

  I teetered to the bathroom on shaky legs and closed the door behind me. The cold water I splashed on my face did little to douse the fire Rogan had started out there. My hands shook as I brushed my teeth.

  I finished up in the bathroom and changed into the cute silk nightie I'd bought at Victoria's Secret on my trip with Tori and Cyan. The lavender lace at my thigh and around my breasts had sparkly swirls of sequins that made it my favorite purchase from that day.

  I crashed in Rogan's bed and closed my eyes. My skin still sizzled from his breath on my ear, his nose on my jaw.

  Fap. Fap. Fap.

  A subtle noise from the bathroom thumped through the wall.

  The sound sped up and got louder. I recognized it from the nights my father slept with me and from the time I'd spent with Zook. Either Rogan was brushing his teeth vigorously in the bathroom on the other side of my bedroom wall.

  Or he was masturbating.

  Like my father had done. No, not deviant and evil. Easy, like it had been with Zook. As natural as breathing, we'd released the tension between us during our time under our oak tree.

  But this felt more extreme than the innocent interludes I'd shared with Zook. The smoldering fire in my belly turned molten at the thought of Rogan being so turned on he needed to touch himself, possibly thinking of me. I shouldn't masturbate at the same time, should I? My hands reached into my panties.

  It's all in fun, not hurting anyone.

  Exactly. Who would it hurt if I pleasured myself right now? I used to do it on occasion after Zook showed me how. I stopped after my father started coming to my room, but Rogan had awakened my sexual desires again. Only this time it was magnified a million times by Rogan's powerful body and the intense connection between us. Unlike before, now I was free to explore my feelings. No one would punish me if I got caught touching myself and that was liberating.

  I held my breath and moved my fingertips over my clit while Rogan worked his dick on the other side of the wall. My mind quickly latched onto my new latitude to fantasize about Rogan.

  He had me pegged against the wall, growling in my ear, tugging my hair.

  "So fucking hard for you right now."

  His hand gripped his cock and stroked faster and faster.

  He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, envisioning me in my nightie with my hand down my panties.

  I ran my fingers through my wetness and pushed them inside myself. If only it were Rogan's fingers touching me. How would his face look as he climbed closer to his release? I could only imagine the potent force inside him coiling and tensing, ready to explode. That thought threw me over the edge, and I bit my lip to stifle my gasps as I came. The excruciating voltage in my body flashed and flowed through me in an energetic wave. As it finally eased, a serene silence overtook me. My stiff legs and arms slackened, subsiding into a listless heap on the bed.

  After a splash of water in the bathroom sink, I heard the door click open and Rogan walk out into the living room. The familiar sound of him settling on the couch was the last thing I heard before the apartment fell silent.

  What just happened between him and me?

  If I asked my father, he'd babble out a senseless diatribe about sin and judgement.

  I turned to my side to cuddle with my pillow.

  I didn't have to bear the weight of unraveling the complicated musings of my father's philosophy anymore.

  Simply call me a sinner and let me sleep, because I'd just shared something incredibly human with a really hot guy and I loved it.

  Chapter 9

  Rogan had given me driving lessons, but I left early for my meeting with Dallas Monroe because Boston's one-way streets and jammed traffic boggled my country-girl mind. Wouldn't taking the subway be so much easier than this? Although, if I'd be working late nights, the subway might not be the safest place, and I'd be glad I had my truck. I drove into the employee lot at Siege ten minutes early. Lux met me at the back entrance and guided me through a huge main room in the club that looked almost like an empty mechanic's garage. The walls were covered in riveted metal and adorned with art made out of screws and bolts. Above my head, private balconies shrouded by rustic canvas ringed the edges of the dance floor.

  He led me to the rear of the club and up a metal staircase. He knocked on a solid black door at the top of the stairs.

  "Enter," a deep voice called.

  Lux let me in, and the man I presumed to be Dallas Monroe stood from behind his desk. I hesitated and my hand flew to my chest. Cyan's staggeringly large husband crowded the room even though he was the only one in it. He wore a sleek suit and tie, his dark hair slicked back. A sooty shadow covered his jaw and a jagged scar ran from his eyebrow to his hairline.

  "I'm Dallas Monroe. Pleasure to meet you, Tessa. Have a seat." He pointed to a chair in front of his glossy chrome desk with a glass top. The contradiction of his ultra-modern office against the industrial look of the club threw me for a second.

  I managed to gather myself and take the steps to the leather chair. "Mr. Monroe, I—"

  "Call me Dallas." He sat down across from me.

  "Oh. Okay."

  "I could use your help here with VIP accounts. You'll be booking parties, setting up the booths before they arrive, and providing whatever they need. Here's a list of clients."

  He handed me a sheet of paper full of names and dates. "Get familiar with their files. VIP hostess is a coveted position here at Siege. I trust you to keep the list and anything that happens related to your work confidential. You'll sign a non-disclosure agreement. Be careful not to let anything slip, particularly with other employees. Bring any issues to Lux. You can also come directly to Brock, Rogan, or me, but no one else."

  "Okay." Wow, Dallas was entrusting me with all this responsibility, and he didn't even know me.

  "Go downstairs and Jovanna will get you set up with a uniform, paperwork, and show you the ropes. You can start tomorrow night. Oh, and Tessa?"

  "Mmm?" I managed to get a sound out even if words failed me.

  "Set your limits with club patrons and don't hesitate to stick to them. They aren't allowed to touch you, and you aren't obligated to entertain or interact with them outside of working hours. If they give you any trouble, go straight to security personnel."

  His striking blue eyes glinted as he sat back in his chair, and a dimple matching his brother's appeared in his cheek with his smile. Oh boy, no wonder Cyan said she was happy to have him watching over her. With Dallas protecting you, you'd never feel afraid.

  "Okay. Thank you for the truck, and the money, as well as this chance to work here."

  Dallas rose too and looked down at me with a knowing smile. "I'm happy to help."

  "Why? Why would you help me?"

  He rounded his desk and walked toward me. "We all need assistance sometimes. Making a change is tough. I admire you."

  "Me? But I'm... I mean I'm so out of place here. I don't have any experience, and you're giving me this opportunity?"

  "You worked at the drugstore—handled money?"

  "I did, but..."

  "You worked in a kitchen?"

  "Yes."

  "That's experience. You raised children?"
/>   "Yes."

  "One of the hardest jobs in the world. Taking care of little ones, raising them up healthy and strong and seeing to their needs. You'll be great at this job. The VIPs are a bunch of babies anyway."

  I giggled and watched him twist his wedding ring like Cyan had done.

  "No matter what they told me, I always believed there were men out there who could love only one woman."

  "Absolutely. Cyan is the only woman I have ever and will ever love." He sat on the desk and crossed his ankle over his knee. "I could never lay with another woman besides my wife. I wouldn't want her to think of me with another woman, much less be forced to allow it under the same roof. It must have been difficult to see your mother go through that. And I'm glad you escaped before it became your future."

  "Me too. I never wanted that life."

  Wow. Dallas represents the ideal I'd always dreamed existed. A man could be loyal. He could love one woman unconditionally and support her while allowing her to be free. Exactly what I wanted. Dallas was taken, but I yearned for someone like him to love me someday.

  "I know what it's like to be forced into a life you don't believe in. It's my pleasure to give you this job and get you started on your career. No one should suffer like you have."

  "If it wasn't for Rogan..."

  "Rogan's a good man."

  "Yes. I think he is."

  ***

  "I'm off now. If you need anything else, Jovanna will help you." I smiled at Enrique, the handsome Latino singer I'd been working with tonight.

  "Don't leave, mamacita. Party's just getting started." His eyes scanned the growing crowd in his VIP booth.

  "Oh. I'm exhausted. Maybe next time. Thank you for being the ideal first client."

  "You did a fantastic job. Very accommodating. I love this club. I'll tell my associates to ask for you."

  "Bye."

  "Adios."

  And with that, I had more proof that the secular world was not filled with evil. Enrique was a kind man and there was no way he'd be going to hell.

  I left the employee exit with a smile on my face. My father would hate my flirty Siege uniform— a pink-camo miniskirt and a black V-neck tee that said Siege in metallic pink letters swirling across my boobs. I loved it.

  As I rounded the corner, an ominous figure emerged from the employee lot. A cold tremor shivered down my spine. I braced my feet and positioned my keys like spikes between my fingers. If he came at me, I couldn't outrun him in these heels. He stepped out of the shadows and...