B*E*A*S*T* of Burden

by Rebecca Goings

Rogan glanced up at Wade, who cocked his eyebrow. Giving him a sour look, Rogan glanced back down at the pictures. As the pages turned, Rogan's heart fell. He couldn't remember any of this. It was his wedding day! One of the most important days of his life, and his memories were gone.

  As Marlie turned to the last page, there were a few candid shots of them together—one cheek to cheek and another of them kissing. Marlie's fingers were anchored in his hair, and he held her close to him. He stared at the photo for a few silent moments.

  "I wish I could remember this,” he whispered, touching the picture right where their lips met. He turned his gaze to Marlie, and she visibly shuddered.

  "I do,” she said. “You made my heart sing."

  "I'm so sorry, Marlie. For everything. I'm sorry it worked out this way between us."

  Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “I am too.” She grabbed something that was on a chain underneath her shirt.

  "What's that?” he asked.

  Marlie looked as if she were reluctant to show him. But after a moment of silence, she pulled it out. “My wedding ring."

  The diamonds sparkled in the firelight as she held it up.

  "You never took it off?"

  Marlie sniffled. “It took me a year to take it off my finger. Looks like it's taken me another year to take it off of my neck."

  She looked at him once more, and all he wanted to do was lean over and kiss her despite the pain in his leg. She'd endured so much, and it was obvious that she still loved him. Deeply.

  "If I could take it all back, I would,” he said.

  One silent tear fell from her eyes and slid down her cheek.

  "You came back to me,” she whispered. “But you don't remember me. Things will never be the same between us, Matthew. You may still be alive, but the man I loved died two years ago."

  When she stood from the couch and retreated into the bedroom, Rogan suddenly felt empty and cold. Damn, this wasn't going to be easy.

  Five

  It was late. The antique clock on Marlie's mantel ticked incessantly. Rogan couldn't go to sleep no matter how hard he tried. They'd eaten earlier when Marlie had suggested she make some sandwiches for everyone. The food had been eaten in near silence. If it hadn't been for Wade and his big mouth, Rogan and Marlie would have had nothing to talk about.

  Wade had told her all about their escape from the B*E*A*S*T* compound and their friend Noah, who could shift into a white tiger. But the memories of those days came back to haunt Rogan. He had been the one to free the shifters from their cells, and they had ruthlessly killed the guards he'd chained to the fence. He hadn't even been thinking about what the fate of the guards might be when he'd cuffed them to the chain link fence in order to keep them out of his way, but the memories of their screams ripped through his head. Rogan shuddered. No man deserved to die like that—a meal for hungry, vengeful shifters.

  Tossing and turning on the couch did nothing to ease the ache in his leg, and he rubbed the bandages. B*E*A*S*T* had made sure all of their experiments were fast healers. He knew he didn't have to live with the pain for too much longer. But right now, his leg was on fire.

  Rogan had seen Marlie get him some Tylenol earlier from her kitchen cabinet, so he stood precariously and hobbled into the kitchen to get himself some more. Just as he popped a few into his mouth and took a long drag from the glass of water he'd poured, he could hear the muffled sounds of sobbing.

  It was Marlie.

  Wade had retired down the hall, saying he was content to sleep in the guest room. Rogan had opted to sleep on the couch, not wanting to move more than necessary. But now that his keen ears could hear Marlie's crying, he couldn't find it within himself to merely lie back down and ignore it.

  After stumbling down the hallway, he stopped at her door and could hear every one of her cries. She was trying not to be too loud, he could tell. She was probably using her pillow to muffle the sounds. But the muted scent of her pain wafted through the door, and it pierced his heart. No matter what he'd been through, he was still her husband, and that truth was what prompted him to knock on her door. He should be the one to comfort her. He longed to make her smile.

  Once he'd knocked, her crying stopped, and he could hear hurried footsteps.

  "Go away.” Marlie's voice was soft but harsh, nonetheless.

  "Marlie, we need to talk,” he said gently.

  "Matthew, please..."

  "Open the door.” Rogan laid his head on the cool wood. “You're the only thing I can remember. Don't shut me out. I ... need you."

  "I can't let you in,” she said, her voice and scent close. She must be just on the other side of the door herself. “If I do, then ... then..."

  Rogan made the decision for her when he opened the door and hobbled into the room. Marlie stared at him in shock, giving him the second he needed to close the door behind him.

  "What are you doing?” she gasped, backing away. She looked stunning in her long nightshirt that hung to the middle of her thighs. On the front was a picture of a kitten that said Cats Rule. He had to smile at that.

  "We need to talk,” he said again, leaning back against the door.

  "You shouldn't be in here!"

  "Wasn't this our room?” he asked, glancing around at the king-sized bed and huge closet doors. Another door led into a room on the far wall; he assumed that must be the master bath.

  "Yes, but—"

  He held up his hand. “Look, I know things have changed between us. But I just need to know if I can remember anything more. And I need your help to do that."

  With a sigh, Marlie sat on the edge of her bed and crossed her arms. “You always were one of the most stubborn men I ever met."

  He grinned, moving forward to sit next to her. He stretched out his injured leg in front of him and grunted.

  "You shouldn't be walking on that,” she said in a softer tone, concern in her eyes.

  "I'll be all right,” he said, glancing at her. “I'm a fast healer. We ... we all are."

  Marlie swallowed hard.

  Rogan took a deep breath. “I have one memory before B*E*A*S*T* abducted me. I've already told you what it is."

  Even in the dark, Rogan could tell he'd made her blush.

  "Can you help me remember when that ... happened?"

  Marlie's voice wavered. “Um, it was probably on our honeymoon."

  "Yeah?"

  She nodded, her scent filled with sadness but also yearning. She still wanted him. He was sure of it.

  "We went to Fiji and rented a private beach house. The first night we got there, we strolled along the beach and laid out our towels.” As she was talking, her eyes had a faraway look in them. “The moon was out that night and with so many stars, it was like a diamond blanket in the sky. One thing led to another and...” Marlie shrugged and let the sentence hang. She quickly wiped away a few fresh tears.

  "I vaguely remember that,” Rogan said to fill the silence. “I remember you, the sky, and how..."

  "How what?” she asked when he didn't finish.

  Lifting his gaze back to hers, he said, “I remember how you tasted."

  Judging by her reaction, she hadn't expected those to be his words. With a gasp, she stood and tried to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist before she could. The heat of her soft skin made his heart pound in his chest. As he pulled her closer, her bare legs rubbed against his, and he groaned at the contact.

  "Matthew—"

  "Call me Rogan,” he said. “I don't remember Matthew. I don't remember anything ... except you. Except that night."

  She shuddered.

  "Marlie,” he whispered. “May I kiss you?"

  Her eyes were wide as she stared at him.

  "I need to remember more,” he continued. “I need to know if what I do remember is real. Please."

  Pulling her even closer, he circled his arms around her waist.

  "Please?” he asked again.

  Marlie closed her eyes and sucked in her breath.

&nb
sp; * * * *

  She must be mad. That's the only explanation that made sense. Here she was, back in her husband's arms where she'd dreamt of being on so many countless nights. She was shaking, her body trembling with desire. He wanted to kiss her, and God help her, she wanted to let him. But he was a freak now, a man able to shift into a wolf at will. Marlie felt as if she were inside some bizarre dream.

  But, as his arms tightened around her, she licked her lips and raised her hands. Without thinking about what she was doing, she stroked his cheeks.

  "God, I've missed you so much, Matthew,” she whispered to him.

  "Rogan,” he corrected, pulling her down until she was sitting in his lap.

  "Rogan," she said, running her fingers through his hair. He growled low in his throat. “We shouldn't do this."

  "Why not?"

  "We can't just pick up where we left off."

  "No, we can't,” he agreed, running his large hands up her thighs to help her straddle him. She gasped at the warmth of his palms, which shot sparks of electricity throughout her body.

  "But we can start fresh,” he said.

  "You don't remember me,” she whispered, bringing her eyes back to his. She caressed his cheek and tried desperately to keep her tears at bay. She'd cried so much in the past few hours that she felt drained.

  "Yes I do,” he countered, lifting his own hands up her sides to her shoulders. Once his hands found her neck, he pulled her closer until their faces were no more than a breath apart. “I want to remember more."

  Marlie hovered just above his lips, not exactly sure what to do next. If she kissed him, she wasn't sure she'd be able to stop herself. She'd been too long without him. Already she could feel the bold arousal in his boxers pressing against her panties.

  "Kiss me,” he whispered, his words sounding almost like a prayer.

  His hands found their way down her body to rest on her backside, pressing her against him sensually. The look in his eyes was too much. She had never been able to resist him, and now was no exception. She closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his.

  Instantly, he held her head to him, as if to keep her from pulling away. Marlie had meant to make their kiss a chaste one, but Rogan wouldn't have it. Once their lips touched, he leaned back on the bed, bringing her with him. She mewled in shock but only for a moment. Lying on top of him brought the bulge in his boxers closer to her center, rubbing against her deliciously. She couldn't help but rock back and forth, reveling in the feeling of him against her once again.

  Like the aggressive man he always had been, his tongue forced her mouth open, sliding into her mouth and capturing her own. Marlie's nipples ached as she slowly rocked against him, feeling the fires of her desire grow hotter and more intense with every passing moment. She'd missed him too damn much to pull away. He tasted so good that she didn't ever want to let him go for fear of losing him again.

  With a groan, Rogan released her mouth only to whisper roughly, “I remember, Marlie. God, I remember your taste!” He didn't give her a chance to answer before he was kissing her again, thrusting his hips up to meet her.

  Marlie cried out when he suddenly rolled her over onto her back. He didn't miss a beat before covering her body with his. Nudging her knees apart, he settled between them as he nipped and sucked on her neck.

  "Matthew ... Rogan,” she panted. “We can't. We can't..."

  Instead of waiting for what she might say, he silenced her with his lips. She whimpered into his mouth but let him discover her body all over again. In the back of her mind, she knew it was madness. Jumping back into a sexual relationship too fast could doom their fragile bond—assuming they still had one.

  But, dear God, she couldn't stop herself.

  Before she knew it, she'd unbuttoned his shirt and was stroking his chest, making him surge against her even harder than before.

  "I need you,” he whispered in her ear. “Marlie, I need to remember you."

  "We shouldn't do this,” she managed to say, her hands contradicting her words as she brought his nipples to fine points.

  "Do you want me to stop?"

  His tongue flicked her earlobe as his teeth teased it as well, making her ache intensify. Marlie bit her own lips to keep herself from crying no. His dark eyes perused her face as he leaned his forehead against hers.

  "I'll stop if you ask me to,” he said.

  He was pleading with her to let him continue; she could see it as plain as day. Her resolve was crumbling.

  "I don't want to ruin anything by getting too close too soon."

  Rogan shut his eyes tightly and sighed, his body trembling above her. “You're right. Damn it."

  Rolling off her, he panted hard and glared at the ceiling. Marlie immediately felt empty without him in her arms. She seriously considered asking him to continue what he'd started. It was obvious he was trying hard to control his raging libido. Snuggling next to him, she laid her head on his shoulder.

  "Rogan?"

  "Yeah?” he said with a sigh, bringing his arm around her shoulders.

  "Will you ... Oh, never mind."

  "What? Tell me."

  Curling her arm around his neck, she whispered, “Will you stay with me? I've been so cold since ... since...” Once again, tears burned her eyes. She almost rolled away from him, but his arm held her fast.

  "I'll stay,” he answered gently, pulling back the covers. She helped him swing his legs under them.

  "It's so good to hold you again,” she murmured, yawning.

  Rogan didn't answer. He merely stroked her hair. Marlie had no idea if he remembered doing that so long ago on the nights they'd spent in each other's arms. But it was so good to feel it again that she snuggled close to him, content to be surrounded by his strength.

  Within moments, she was sound asleep.

  Six

  Rogan jerked awake and glanced around the room, disoriented. Sunlight poured through the blue curtains on the window near the headboard, and the sweet scent of Marlie surrounded him, but she wasn't in the bed. He could hear the sound of the shower in the master bathroom.

  Damn it, he was going to drive himself insane. Thoughts of what she must look like naked ripped through his head like a freight train. Instantly his body tightened, and he had to grab hold of the comforter to keep himself from flying off the bed.

  Last night had been the best night's sleep he'd gotten in a long time. He'd been so warm and comfortable, holding Marlie in his arms; he'd slept like a rock. Now, however, he lamented the fact that his body was now as hard as a rock.

  "Shit,” he whispered to himself, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Rubbing his eyes, he merely sat there, wondering what the hell to do. The clock on the side table read 8:45 a.m. Good ol’ what's-his-name was going to make an appearance in fifteen minutes. Rogan growled at the thought. Marlie had mentioned that her friend Kevin wanted to take their relationship to the next level. Even though Rogan had only been reunited with his wife for barely a day, he felt his protective instincts kick in.

  Marlie was his mate—end of story, damn it.

  Dear God, is she humming in there?

  He swallowed hard, trying not to think about her soapy skin, but it was nearly impossible. He knew he'd probably seen her naked many times during his life before, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't conjure the image in his memory, and his curiosity got the better of him.

  Standing from the bed, he limped over to the closed bathroom door and opened it. A wall of steam hit him in the face. Lucky for Rogan, the door didn't squeal on its hinges. The shower was a stall with an opaque glass door, so he could see the vague outline of Marlie's body through it. Growling at himself in the fogged up mirror, he made a split decision.

  "I'm gonna regret this,” he said under his breath.

  He stepped out of his boxers and let his shirt fall to the floor. Bending over, he also unwrapped the bandages on his injured leg and threw them into the trash can. Already his wounds felt better.
They were still an angry red underneath Marlie's stitches, but he was able to put more weight on his leg than the night before. It had been awhile since he'd showered, and he couldn't think of a better way to get clean than to share the shower with his extremely beautiful wife.

  The moment he opened the stall door, Marlie squealed and turned around in fright, her body wet from head to toe. Her long dark hair clung to her back, and the water splashed over her skin in rivulets. Marlie's breasts were just the right size for his hands—if she'd let him touch her—and the patch of hair between her legs was neatly trimmed. She didn't even bother to cover herself, she merely chewed the inside of her lip.

  Rogan had meant to step into the shower with her, but now that he'd gotten an eyeful of her exquisite body, all he could do was stand there and stare. Marlie looked at his face as if she were too afraid to glance down at his own nakedness.

  After a few moments of shocked silence, she said harshly, “What do you think you're doing?"

  "I'm gonna join you, sweetheart,” he said, finally finding his voice as he stepped into the stall.

  Marlie swallowed hard. “This ... this isn't a good idea."

  "Oh?” he countered, raising a brow at her. “What better way for me to remember you than to touch every inch of you?"

  She closed her eyes. “Dear Lord, Matt—I mean, Rogan. You're a stubborn man."

  He had to grin at her. “Damn right, honey. Are you complaining?"

  Marlie shook her head and finally looked down at him. She gasped at the proof of his desire. He grew harder just having her stare at him. With a groan, he pushed her against the tiles of the shower.

  "Can I touch you?” he asked.

  Rogan knew he was being bold by joining her in the shower, but he didn't want her to think she didn't have a choice. He wanted her to accept him back into her life, but he also wanted her to choose him for herself.

  "Can I taste you?” He didn't even recognize his own husky voice. Her hands rested on his biceps as he leaned over her, the warm shower spray slicking his skin.

  "Rogan—"

  He placed a finger over her lips. “Yes or no,” he said, giving her a look he hoped she could read. He was forcing the issue, but damn it, he had to remember her. He had to grab hold of the life he'd once had. And, looking down at her creamy skin once more, he had to put his mouth on her.