Rogan Page 8

  "Rogan! You scared the bejeezus outta me!"

  My shoes scuffed on the pavement as I sauntered past him to my truck. He followed me silently and propped his hands on his hips as I grabbed the handle directly above the door and hoisted my butt up into my seat. When I turned to wave to him, he was gone.

  I surveyed the dark lot. No Rogan. As I drove out, I felt his eyes on my truck.

  Chapter 10

  The backless slip dress I chose to wear to the wedding showed the scars on my shoulder, but I didn't care. I loved the wisps of flowers in golden sequins glittering around the hem and bodice. The satin belt at the waist and the pale blush fabric made it romantic enough for a wedding, but the plunging neckline showed a hint of cleavage. I'd spent hours practicing walking in these rose-colored platform pumps with matching golden embroidery.

  I pulled on a sheer shrug and left my hair loose to cover the scars on my left shoulder. They were still visible when I moved my hair away, but so what if someone noticed? They'd never know I didn't scratch myself climbing a tree or something. I added amethyst bracelets and matching studs and looked in the mirror. Not bad. I liked this new me.

  I watched my feet as I walked toward Rogan, making sure not to eat it.

  "Jesus, Tess."

  I tugged at the spaghetti straps of my dress without looking up at him. "Don't judge me, Rogan. I picked this dress because it's sparkly and I like it. I'm wearing it no matter what any man thinks."

  When I stopped and looked up, his eyes were hooded and dark. Lord have mercy. Rogan's chiseled features and tapered waist were even more breathtaking in a suit. He kept his stance casual, like a dark suit with an ivory shirt and thin black tie was just another uniform for him.

  His eyes caressed me from head to toe. "Wasn't gonna criticize you. You look fantastic. You'll outshine the bride."

  "I doubt anyone could outshine Yolanda..." and her enormous boobs.

  "My Sunshine could." He cleared his throat and held his hand behind my back without touching me. "Let's go."

  In the parking garage below the apartments, Rogan opened the passenger door to a shiny, black four-door Chevy Silverado.

  "Up you go." The skin on my waist buzzed where his big warm hands supported my weight to help me into the seat. The truck interior smelled new. Rogan may not spend money on his apartment, but he'd invested in his truck.

  As we pulled away, I asked, "How long have Yolanda and Diesel been dating?"

  "Three months."

  "Oh. Isn't that kinda quick?"

  "Yes. And stupid."

  "You don't think they'll make it?"

  "Not if he stays enlisted."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "He'll be gone a lot. The weight of separation strains a marriage. Most of them break."

  "Couldn't she live on base with him?"

  "Men in my unit don't live on a base. And the places he's deployed are entirely too dangerous for a wife to follow. She has to wait at home and pray each night she doesn't get that knock at the door delivering the news no wife ever wants to hear."

  "I hadn't thought much about military wives before. I bet she's thrilled when he comes home."

  He nodded. "Diesel thinks if he has someone waiting at home for him, he has a greater chance of making it back alive. It's bullshit. Grenades don't skip over men wearing rings. Best to stay single and guarantee you don't destroy someone's heart when you die."

  "What a grim outlook."

  "Reality, Sunshine."

  "And every time you come back, no one's waiting for you?"

  He cringed and his voice became defensive. "I don't need anyone. Just a job. I come home, go to work, no big deal."

  Ah, yes, I'd struck a raw nerve. "And how many times have you been deployed?"

  "Can't tell you."

  "More than ten?"

  He raised one eyebrow and quirked his lips.

  "More than twenty?"

  "Takoda doesn't always go with me. Sometimes she's here when I get home," he said as he pulled into the parking lot of an upscale golf course.

  ***

  We sat at the back of the crowd as Diesel and Yolanda exchanged vows in a sunset ceremony overlooking the lake. A female vocalist sang of everlasting love, and I couldn't help but think about Rogan coming home to an empty apartment after risking his life in the desert or wherever they'd sent him.

  Blaze looked sharp in a tuxedo as Diesel's best man, but nothing compared to Rogan in a suit. He was sexy as hell.

  After the dinner at the reception, the music started and I stood up. "Dance with me," I asked Rogan.

  "I don't dance."

  "C'mon, be my first dance."

  "No."

  "I'll dance with you, Swift." Blaze rose from his seat and offered me a hand.

  I took it and followed him to the dance floor. He wrapped one arm around my waist and held our hands together in the air as he guided us to a mellow song.

  "You excited to move in with me tomorrow?"

  "Yes, the lengthy move down the hallway."

  "I'm warning you, I walk in my sleep."

  "Oh, really? What should I do if I see you sleepwalking?"

  "Just invite me into your bed, I'll fall right back to la-la land."

  "Ha! No way. Platonic roomies. Nothing else."

  "Absolutely," he said and pressed his lips together.

  The song changed to a provocative beat, and Blaze moved us together to the music. The dance floor pulsed with the tension of attractive people smiling and swaying to the groove.

  Diesel rocked his hips into Yolanda like he wanted to take her right there. I bet after the reception, he'd rip off his bride's dress in a hurry to be inside her. Or maybe they'd be so eager, they wouldn't even take the time to undress. They'd fuck on the floor in a haze of tulle and diamonds. She wouldn't care about stains on her dress because she'd be lost in him.

  I bit my lip and Blaze pulled me closer. I caught Rogan watching us with dark eyes and stiff shoulders. Could he read my naughty thoughts? Maybe he was jealous of my dancing with Blaze. Probably not. He stood and strode to the balcony without a glance back at us.

  ***

  I left Blaze on the dance floor and followed Rogan to the balcony. He rested his elbows on the railing as he gazed out to the lake.

  "I've never seen a wedding as nice as this. The weddings back home were subdued events. The couple pretending to be in love, the other wives pretending to be happy."

  He tilted his chin toward me and squinted. "What else have you never seen?"

  I mirrored his position on the railing, and stared out at the darkness of the golf course, trying to see what he was looking at. "I've never seen the sun set over the ocean. I've never been to a concert. I've never traveled anywhere for fun. Lots of things others take for granted."

  "How'd you get those marks on your shoulder?"

  I snapped up and covered my shoulder with my hand.

  "Do all the kids in Caldwell have those?"

  "Only the evil ones."

  His forehead creased, and his lips turned down. "Did your father do that to you?"

  "He marked our transgressions on our skin."

  Rogan's hands balled into fists. "And what'd you do to earn those?"

  "I defied him."

  "How young?"

  "Don't ask me that."

  "How old the first time?"

  "Five."

  Rogan stared out into the distance and hunched his huge shoulders. "What did he use?"

  "Sugar cane. To keep us sweet."

  His chest rose and fell with his deep sigh. He turned to me and held up his arm, giving me the choice. I stepped closer to him, and he enfolded me in his embrace.

  I tucked my head into the safety of his hard torso and let the bliss of his closeness wash over me. He flexed his fingers over the scars on my shoulder.

  "He use his fists on you?" The scruff on his chin scratched against my hair as he spoke.

  "Sometimes." He rubbed his hand up and down m
y arm. "I'm a troublemaker. Maybe that's why my father sent me on such a dangerous mission. He wanted to get rid of me."

  He raised his head, and his hands on my upper arms forced me to look at him. "Bullshit. He knew you were the most beautiful child he had. A sterling Palomino he couldn't tame. He wanted to possess you in a way he couldn't all the other women. He couldn't corral you and put you in his stable. Probably scared the shit outta him the places you'd go, the woman you'd become."

  I peered up into his eyes. Rogan's compliments caressed my heartache like his calloused fingers on my shoulder.

  "You should've been hugged. Often. Your parents let you down." He pulled me back into his arms. "Your dad touch you in any way besides his fists?"

  "He... "

  "Go ahead."

  "He traveled a lot. But when he was in Caldwell, he'd spend one night with each wife. When my mom died..."

  "Yeah?"

  "I took her night."

  "Your mom died and you took her night."

  My cheek mashed against his dress shirt as I nodded. "He would... sleep behind me."

  Rogan's arms clenched around me. "Sleep."

  "Yes. Sometimes he—"

  He squeezed me so hard, he crushed the air from my lungs.

  "Uh. Too tight."

  He released me and paced away. With his elbows on the balcony railing again, he spoke to the dark night. "He rape you?" His voice came out as a low rasp.

  "No. It's difficult to discuss." I twisted my fingers. "He said only intercourse between married people was condoned by God."

  He whirled to face me. "Really."

  "He thought I carried my mother's soul."

  "And..."

  "He'd leave his seed between my legs to offer to God as communion with her." I covered my face with my hands. "I should've fought h— "

  "No. None of this is your fault."

  "He said he'd kill me if I fought him. He'd kill Milo if I told anyone."

  "He's got thirty wives and still molests his daughter? What a filthy son of a bitch."

  "He didn't rape me."

  "It doesn't matter. What he did was wrong."

  "Yes."

  He curled his palm on the nape of my neck beneath my hair. "You say Takoda's brave, but you are a strong, courageous woman. Your mom would be proud of you."

  "I don't know. The sister wives said I was a bad seed."

  "Those whack jobs worry way too much about seed."

  "They said my soul was damned."

  "They were wrong. He programmed them to think that way." His fingers squeezed and twined into my hair. "You've been held prisoner. Twice. Unjustly captured by evil people. They could've killed you, but you survived. You're safe now. And you're free."

  I nodded and closed my eyes. "Because of you." I could never thank Rogan enough for rescuing me from the hell in Afghanistan and the misery of Idaho.

  As he drew my forehead to his chest, the hook in my heart dug in deeper. His arm around my back bound us together like a thick iron rope.

  We stayed like that for several deep breaths before he spoke. "And you are not damned. You're the closest thing to an angel I've ever seen."

  Chapter 11

  Takoda greeted us at the door like we'd been gone weeks, not a few hours. "Come with me to run her."

  "Okay."

  He snagged the leash off the hook, and we took Takoda down to the park around the corner. The amber streetlamps elongated our shadows on the sidewalk as Takoda sniffed her pee-mail in the bushes.

  The minimal champagne I'd consumed at the wedding was enough to give me courage. "Why do men like boobs so much?"

  He chuckled. "Don't know."

  "Yolanda has big ones, and she shows them off."

  He unhooked Takoda's leash, and lobbed one of her Kong chew toys off into the darkness. She bolted off like a rocket. We kept walking on the sidewalk.

  "They're not real, ya know."

  "What? Her boobs? They're fake?"

  He nodded and glanced at my chest.

  "Does Diesel like that?"

  "Diesel's first two wives had a similar body type."

  "This is his third marriage? So Diesel goes around marrying women with big fake boobs?"

  "Could be."

  "He does seem like he's in love with her. For more than just her boobs."

  "You'd have to ask him that."

  My curiosity over Tori gnawed at my insides, especially after I'd shared my secrets with him tonight. "Did you date Cyan's friend Tori?"

  Rogan's pace slowed, and he angled his chin toward me. "Why do you ask?"

  "She's pretty. Worldly. Mature. Carries herself with grace and composure." All the things I'm not.

  Takoda bounded back to us with her Kong gripped in her teeth, her tongue lolling out the side. He hooked her leash, and we took her home.

  As he removed his jacket and manned the alarm, I took off my sweater as I walked toward the bedroom. "Goodnight. Thank you for taking me. I loved it."

  "Hold on a second."

  I froze. "What?"

  He stepped over to the couch and sat down. "Come here. Need to talk to you." He patted the cushion next to him.

  "Oh, okay." As I sat down, our knees bumped and a frisson sparked between us like it did every time we touched.

  "Don't compare yourself to other women."

  He slung an arm over the back of the couch. "Know what makes you beautiful? Your stormy blue eyes, long fucking legs that'd drive any man to murder, hair for miles, fine ass, round, full boobs—to use your word. I could go on for days about your lips."

  "Oh." Wow.

  He lowered his head, and his hand cupped my neck. "But who you are defines your beauty. Not many women out there can say she's survived growin' up the way you did and came out the other side looking like a million bucks, givin' smiles to everyone she meets, not letting any of the brainwashing shit get her down. Never met a woman as brave as you, and that is fuckin' sexy." As his face edged closer, the heat of his energy invaded my space. "There's no comparison." The warm breeze of his soft lips brushed my cheek.

  I held my breath and waited for him to pull away. He didn't. He lingered, and my heart launched to the sky in a multi-colored hot air balloon.

  "Kiss me." I didn't mean to say it. It just came out. But it was out there now. Would he kiss me?

  His other hand rose slowly to my neck, and he held me in his palms like you hold a dandelion before blowing its seed tufts away. "Drove me nuts you dancin' with Blaze."

  A dangerous gust twisted low in my belly. As I inhaled to respond, he pressed his mouth to mine. His fingers squeezed my neck, and I whimpered. The tip of his tongue lapped at my upper lip. I opened for him, inviting him to invade my mouth. Yes, yes! Our tongues crashed and circled in a delicious wave. He tasted like champagne and wedding cake.

  Without breaking the kiss, he pushed me to my back and hovered over me. I wrapped my arms around him and dug my fingertips into his solid shoulders. His clothes scuffed along the sequins at the hem of my dress as he gave me his weight. His hard cock pressed against my core through our clothes. God, I wanted to feel him like this with nothing between us. Just him and I naked and caressing each other.

  His hand skated along my side to my knee, hitching it up around his hip. He ended the kiss and took a deep breath with his eyes closed. "So fucking sexy." His eyes opened slowly, and he focused on my cleavage. "I shouldn't. But damn." He kissed down my neck along the edge of the fabric, stopping at the lowest point with his nose between my breasts. "You smell good."

  "Rogan." I tilted my hips and crushed his erection between us. He answered me with a sensual grind. God, it felt huge. "Please. Please don't stop." As our bodies worked their way infinitely closer, the heat between us fueled the air of my balloon higher and higher. My hands explored the curve of his back like I'd dreamed of for so long. His sinewy muscles felt bigger and stronger than my ultimate fantasies. My fingers stopped at the waistband of his slacks.

  He raised h
is head. "Wish I could be the one to show you all you've never seen. The first to fuck you, erase whatever bullshit your dad planted in your head. Make you come hard. Watch you light up in my arms." He pressed his forehead to mine and his fingers curled behind my knee. "But I can't."

  I gasped and tugged his shirt. "No. Don't say that." I pulled it free from his pants and ran my fingernails over the bare skin of his back. Sleek skin over taut muscles, burning hot under my fingertips. "You can. We can. Who's going to stop us?"

  He growled and his body stilled. "I can't. You've had enough shit thrown at you. You don't need mine. After what you've been through, you need a man with a gentle hand. Someone whose heart is... free. That ain't me."

  With one last inhale of his earthy scent, I grasped his shoulders and held tight. "No."

  Don't pull away from me, please.

  But my arms could never hold a man as strong as Rogan down. He broke from my grip like it was as weak as a spider web. He knifed up to standing with his gaze turned to the floor. He took a deep breath and a stunted step back.

  I stared at the top of his head and panted to catch my breath.

  Please come back.

  "You'll be meeting plenty of influential people at Siege. Find yourself a VIP."

  And just like that, the flame fueling our balloon extinguished, and we descended into freefall like we'd passed through the wall of a hurricane and sunk through the column of the eye.

  He marched to the door and took off into the frigid night, not bothering to grab his jacket. Takoda and I stared at the closed door.

  The basket of my balloon crashed to the ground, and I sat up on the couch. "Come here, girl." Takoda trotted to me and put a paw on my lap. As I scrubbed her head behind her ears, my deflated balloon fluttered to the earth. "Why did I ask him to kiss me, huh?"

  Takoda looked back at me with a face that said, Because he's drop-dead gorgeous, you idiot. Who wouldn't?

  "Too true. He is one fine man."

  And a dangerously good kisser, even if he is impossible to understand. With a sigh, I gathered the nylon fabric of my balloon in my arms, carried it to my bed, and flopped on my back, burying myself in the rainbow.