Rogan (Men of Siege Book 1)

by Bex Dane

  Chapter 13

  Like a viper, he struck and grabbed my upper arm. My feet scuffled along as he dragged me up the stairs to the mirrored wall. With his touch, a hidden door opened, and he yanked me into a room with a U-shaped console and computer screens lining the walls. I didn't have time to figure anything else out because Rogan propelled a chair out of the way and shoved me up against the desk.

  "You want this?" His hard cock rammed against my sex, making my stomach drop and my knees shake. "You want this?"

  "Yes."

  "This is more than you can handle." He accentuated the word with his hips jabbing into mine. "This is a fucking timebomb." His fingers dug into my waist, crunching against the jewels on my dress. "You have no idea what you're asking."

  God, Rogan's wrath frightened me and turned me on in equal measure. "I want you. However it comes."

  "No. You're way too fragile." His tone betrayed he doubted his statement, like a child trying to get out of trouble when they knew their excuse wouldn't hold water.

  "I'm not made of glass. Be rough with me."

  He stared at me and ground his teeth, war raging in his eyes. "If I let loose, I'll shred you."

  "Give it to me. I need you to want me so bad it hurts."

  With a guttural growl, he slammed his mouth on mine. Our tongues mashed and our teeth clicked. Finally. Finally, Rogan let his passion take over. He tasted salty and wet and warm. He palmed my breasts through the dress. Not gently, a rough squeeze that pushed them up and crunched them together. And I loved it. I didn't want soft. His demanding touch was real and potent and set me on fire for him.

  He ran his lips down my neck and dipped his tongue inside the neckline of the dress, swiping over my nipple. "Yes, Rogan. God, yes!" My fingernails scraped through the sheen of sweat on the back of his neck.

  I reached for his shirt buttons, but he stepped back and yanked my dress up to my hips. He kissed me again, and I shivered as his fingers worked into the top of my panties. His fingers stilled as he deepened the kiss and moaned. And that was hot because Rogan liked kissing me so much, he forgot what he was doing.

  The heat of his hand slipped in deeper, cupping my sex and probing my wetness. His massive palm between my legs lifted me up onto the desk, so high that my shoes fell off and clicked to the ground.

  With a growl, he broke the kiss. "Brace yourself." His hands wrapped around my hips and pinned me. I planted my elbows for balance as the cold laminate smashed into my backside.

  He pulled my panties down to my knees. I widened my feet as far as they would go with the panties restraining me. He hovered his face over my sex. His inhale seemed to stun him for a second, but he snapped out of it and dove in. He licked my slit up to my clit and I gasped.

  "Goddamn, fucking heaven." He pulled my underwear down the rest of the way and tossed them across the room. With his knees on the floor, his tongue drilled in on my clit. He lifted my leg up over his shoulder and dove in deeper.

  God.

  He's feasting on me.

  Totally feasting.

  His lips sucked and pulled till I gasped for each ragged breath.

  It all happened so fast. Rogan bombarded me with his untamed anger, his tongue sending buzzing jolts to every molecule of my body. A terrifying orgasm brewed deep in my core. It felt so good, I wanted it to last forever. He needed to...

  "Slow down. I'm—"

  "Fuck no," he murmured into my sex and forced two fingers inside me.

  "Ahh!" A sharp twinge of something wonderful inside me swelled from his fingers and filled my body like I was floating on a life raft.

  My hands scratched his head as it bobbed between my legs, unable to grab hold of his short hair.

  I cried out as a climax assailed me. My insides crumbled to dust. I didn't exist. The universe was only light and Rogan as I came, groaning and gasping. He didn't let up, forcing me to spasm on his fingers again and again.

  "Stop." I could barely utter the word. I grabbed his ears and pushed his head away. He resisted at first, but slowed and stopped. He stayed close and took a deep breath. I exhaled too. The storm had passed. Whew.

  When he stood, his eyes had darkened to coal. A wrathful menace still swirled in them. His lips shined with my juices as he loosened his belt with rough jerks.

  I was wrong. The storm had not passed. The wall of it was charging toward me full speed, no way to stop it.

  He whipped his cock out, and lordy, it was huge, a dark round head throbbing and pointing at me. His hand curled behind my neck and forced me down, bending me at the waist.

  "You still want this?" His voice scratched like coarse sandpaper on metal.

  I tried to nod, but his unforgiving hand kept my head in place. "You know to cover your teeth with your lips?"

  He didn't want me to answer so I didn't try.

  I should've broken out of his demanding hold, but I was still so turned on from the dancing and my monumental orgasm, I did want it. Rough or gentle, I wanted this connection with Rogan.

  "Suck." He bumped the head of his cock against my closed lips. "Suck it, Sunshine. You want it? Suck it."

  His grip tightened around my neck, his thumb digging in behind my ear. The pain tripped a wire inside me, and suddenly, I didn't want it anymore. I dropped my head. I couldn't do it. Not like this.

  He released my neck, and I raised my torso upright, wiping away hair stuck to my face.

  "I told you. You don't want this. I warned you." He moved fast, tucking his hard cock into his pants. "Fuck!" He grunted and smacked his fist into the console. He marched away, the tail of his shirt hanging out partially in the front. The master of composure and masking emotion was a disheveled mess, just like me.

  At the door, he didn't look back when he spoke. "Don't tempt me."

  The door snapped shut behind him, like a crocodile's jaw. I stood alone in the strange room, my eyes stinging, stunned and naked from the waist down.

  Damn. Dammit! Rogan rejected me over and over and yet I stupidly, stupidly let him.

  With three deep breaths, I fixed myself up and left the room. I searched for him in the club as I stumbled to the employee lockers to get my things, but didn't see him. Good. I didn't want to see him now anyway. I just wanted to escape. I took off my shoes and raced barefooted out the employee exit, clutching my backpack and fighting back tears. My hands shook as I fired up the engine and drove out of the lot. I didn't feel his eyes on my truck like I always did. The road home blurred through the wetness in my eyes, but I made it to the parking structure for my apartment safely and found a space.

  I cut my headlights and sat in my truck. The shame and disappointment poured out of me in surges of sobs so mighty I couldn't stop them. My crush on Rogan was futile. He would never fully give himself to me. He might occasionally lose control like he did tonight, but in the end, he would always hurt me.

  Tori was right. I should've never chased a man who didn't want me like crazy. Well, I'd learned my lesson. I was done with Rogan forever.

  Chapter 14

  I was eating breakfast when Blaze walked out of his room the next morning. His pack and rifle case were slung over his shoulder. He wore fatigues like I'd seen Rogan wearing when I ran into him in the hallway last week.

  "Are you leaving?" I set my bagel on my plate and stared at him.

  "Yeah." He messed with his gear intently, like I wasn't there.

  "Where are you going?"

  He didn't answer, grabbed a bunch of bags, and opened the front door.

  Rogan and Takoda were standing in the corridor, waiting for him. Rogan wore clean, stiff fatigues and his Army boots. I stood from the table in the nook and stepped closer to Rogan, but he didn't look at me. His face hardened into an arctic glacier. His lips looked thin and pale. Unlike last night when they were full and slick and kissing me in the most unimaginable ways. His lips had also said cruel, hurtful things that left me crying myself to sleep. I wrapped my arms around my middle to ward off the chill creeping up my
spine.

  Blaze glanced from Rogan to me. "Gonna load the truck." He walked out with his gear.

  "Where are you going?" I asked Rogan. The hairs on my arm stiffened, like they do during the deathly lull before a storm.

  He turned his head toward me, and considered me with dull, lifeless eyes. "I can't tell you."

  He didn't need to. I could read the resolve on his face. "You're going to Afghanistan. On another mission."

  His head tilted slightly. "If anyone asks you, you don't know where I went."

  "Is the Army making you go or did you volunteer?"

  "I'm going because I want to."

  "Why? What could be so important?"

  "Got unfinished business there."

  "Are Diesel and Takoda going with you?"

  "Yep. The Monroe brothers will watch over you until Diesel and Blaze get back."

  "The Monroe brothers? Diesel and— Wait. You're not coming back?"

  "If I survive, I won't return here. Don't wait for me." His voice softened and rasped, revealing the anguish he was feeling too. The hook in my heart tugged painfully like a fish caught on a line. "Goodbye, Sunshine. Just move on."

  "Do I at least get to say goodbye to Takoda?"

  Rogan looked down at Takoda and pointed one finger at me. I bent my knees, and she ran into my arms.

  "Goodbye, girl. Be careful out there." I rubbed the scruff of her neck till her skin wrinkled up behind her ears. She panted and angled her head, begging for more. I kissed the top of her head. A jagged hole ripped through my chest. "You can't say goodbye and walk away."

  "I have to."

  A butcher's knife severed my mangled heart into jagged, bloody chunks. "This hurts." I kept my eyes on Takoda and blinked away the pain threatening to drop from my eyes.

  The door clicked shut, his gear thudded on the floor, and his boots tapped out three deliberate steps toward me. When his strong arms pulled me to standing, I peered up at my blurry commando. This is not happening. I couldn't say goodbye. Not now. Not ever.

  "Listen. I know it hurts now and it feels like it'll never pass. But it will. You'll forget about me. Move on to someone your age." He ran his hand over my hair like he'd done the first time he'd hugged me. "I'm sorry about the way I treated you last night. You don't deserve that."

  "Older guys do stupid things too." I sounded petulant, but I didn't care. This was forever. My hero who'd rescued me and gave me my freedom was walking away and would never return.

  "You don't understand." His voice cracked.

  "Explain it to me, please."

  "Certain acts are so heinous, they can't go unanswered."

  "And you have to provide the answer?"

  "We're the best team for the job."

  "You're choosing to fight over love?"

  He bent at the waist to stare into my eyes. "Yes."

  "And have you made that choice before and regretted it?"

  His torso flinched back like I'd hit him in the core. "Tess..."

  "People repeat behaviors. Diesel marries women based on their body type. My father brings children into this world, only to reject them. You risk your life to wage battles far across the ocean. Battles that keep you from putting down roots."

  He rubbed the back of his neck. "You could be right, but this is the way it has to be. I'm sorry."

  I closed my eyes. He pressed his lips to my forehead and skimmed them over my nose, landing on my mouth.

  I kissed him back, softly, inhaling his warm breath, memorizing it and storing it in my lungs like a firefly in a jar.

  He grabbed my waist and pulled me flush against his torso as he deepened the kiss.

  This kiss broke a promise he'd never made. The bitter regret of an unfinished verse he'd never started singing.

  His husky growl and the hunger in the kiss said he didn't want it to end. But like Rogan always does, he pulled away, leaving me breathless and lost.

  He picked up his rifle and his bags. "Bye, Tess."

  Takoda followed behind him with one last look back at me.

  "Goodbye, Rogan. Bye, Takoda." I waved at their disappearing backs. "Be safe."

  The door clicking shut sheared the final strand of the cable tying me to Rogan. I stood in the middle of the room holding the loose end of a tattered rope.

  Chapter 15

  "Hey, sugar. Happy birthday." Brock draped an arm over my shoulders and squeezed.

  "Thank you." I didn't look up from my work preparing the VIP booth for Enrique tonight.

  "Why the frown, Tessa? Not many girls get a do-over of their twenty-third birthday."

  I looked him in the eye. "A do-over Rogan made happen for me. And you and Dallas too. I'm so grateful for that..."

  "But?"

  "I wish he were here."

  He glanced around the empty club. "He leaves like this. It's only been a week. He comes back."

  "He said he won't be back."

  Brock didn't respond as he watched me place Enrique's orange Tic Tacs inside his booth.

  "How's your dance class going?"

  "Did Rogan tell you I was taking a dance class?"

  "He mentioned it."

  "Oh. Good. I mean well. It's going well."

  "I have an idea that might cheer you up. Are you afraid of heights?"

  "What? No. I don't think so."

  "How'd you like to dance for us?"

  "Dance for you? Like the dancers on the catwalk?"

  "More like in the box. Would you like to be a box girl?"

  "Are you nuts? I'm totally unqualified."

  "You know how to shake that fine ass of yours?"

  "Oh. I guess I'm learning. It comes natural if the music is right."

  "You wanna dance up there?" He pointed to the hook hanging from the ceiling where the boxes were suspended.

  Did I? Men would be watching me, lusting after me. I'd probably be wearing something even skimpier than my Siege uniform. My father would bust a gut.

  "Yes! I would love it. Oh, please?"

  He pulled out his phone and dialed. "Bro, get Tessa a gig as a box girl."

  He listened for a second then replied. "A stunner like her needs to be in the spotlight. Not in the shadows kissing VIP ass."

  Another pause. "She said she wants it."

  He listened to Dallas's reply and folded his hand like the beak of a duck, closing and opening it like quacking. I tried not to giggle. Brock was brave to mock Dallas, even if he couldn't see it.

  He tilted his chin away and lowered his voice. "He left it up to us."

  After listening for a bit longer, Brock handed me the phone.

  "Hello?"

  "This something you want?" Dallas's somber tone took me by surprise.

  "Yes. I think I'd love it. It's a chance to fly. The ultimate freedom."

  "Then I'll allow it, but it's temporary and only once a week. Don't lose focus on your schooling."

  "I promise. I won't."

  "Did you pick a major yet?"

  "No."

  "Let me know when you do. I'll have a place for you at any of my businesses. You can be a manager, a salesperson, anything you want. But for now, the answer is yes. You start tonight. See Jovanna for wardrobe."

  "Oh my goodness. Thank you!"

  He ended the call, and I handed the phone back to Brock. "I'm scared and excited and oh my gosh."

  "Don't be nervous, sugar. Just be authentic. The honesty rolling off you is enchanting. They'll see it too."

  "Oh..."

  "Have fun. I'm gonna sit right under your box and watch you spread your wings."

  I laughed because I'd be spreading lots of stuff, wings included. "Thank you so much."

  "One more thing." Brock handed me a white greeting card and a small box wrapped in white paper and a glittering red bow.

  "What's this?"

  "Present for you." He headed to the back of the club and left me alone with my present.

  In a thick brushstroke of carmine red, the front of the card read,<
br />
  Find a place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.

  Inside, a message was scrawled in his orderly script.

  Sunshine, happy first birthday as Tessa Harlow. Never let anyone dull your sparkle. Rogan

  The box held a faceted square ruby necklace with miniature diamonds around the edges, just like the one I'd told him about stealing from the drugstore. I dangled the glittering gem from the chain and watched it glint in the light. I clutched it in my hand and pressed it to my chest. Darn him for being so thoughtful and nice on my birthday.

  ***

  Jovanna showed me around and gave me the box-girl rules.

  No nudity. No smashing your tits or ass up against the glass. No bodily fluids in the box.

  She picked out a pink plaid skirt and white polyester shirt that knotted at my midriff.

  At ten o'clock, I stuffed all my fears in my locker and climbed the steps to box three. My sweaty fingers gripped the handles of the swaying glass cube as some guy wheeled me out over the dance floor.

  My stomach lurched and I swallowed back bile.

  No bodily fluids in the box.

  Presumably vomit would be considered a bodily fluid.

  Once the box settled in place, my stomach recovered, and the music streaked through me like adrenaline. Fate had brought me a chance to dance in the air above a crowd. Fear would not stop me from seizing it and enjoying it. I closed my eyes to the blinding strobe lights and forced my stiff muscles to move to the beat. So what if I looked awkward? So what if my moves gave away the fact I grew up on a commune with no dancing? My ruby necklace bounced on my chest, I shook my ass, and I had a damn good time.

  After two hours of dancing, I changed my exhausted body into sweats and carried my bag to my truck. The employee parking lot seemed extra dark without the reassuring hug of Rogan's eyes on me, but a new comfort took its place—the comfort of confidence in my body, making my own future, and finding joy, one day at a time.

  ***

  Six months later

  Light Boston snow flurries landed on the hood of my truck as my phone lit up with a call from Cyan.