The rest of him, of course, throbbed with need for her.
Rogue followed her into the closet.
She was pushing hangers to one side and the other as he wrapped his arms around her waist, sliding his hands over the warm skin of her belly. “I thought I'd wear a dress. Or would that be overdressing?"
"Mmm, dresses are good.” He bit down lightly on the slope of her neck, smiling as she shivered against him.
"You aren't helping.” She settled the curve of her ass against his pelvis.
"Not trying to. Why would I want you dressed?” His left hand slid up to toy with the edges of her bra before sliding into the cup to tweak the hardening bud of her nipple.
"Stop,” she said breathlessly, but in the voice he had come to know meant she wanted him to do nothing of the kind.
"I'd keep you naked as much as I possibly could, if I had my way.” His right hand slipped under the elastic of her panties to twist through her coarse curls.
She sagged against him, all pretext of dressing gone.
He slipped into her center and Christ, didn't she sound incredible, that soft, wanting cry that would make a dead man hard. Her arm reached up to wrap around his neck, and she used the leverage to ride against him as he fingered her. His cock strained towards her, knowing it belonged buried deep in her heat. She was like a kitten getting her belly scratched, stretching and contracting with each flex of his hand, each roll and pinch of her tight nipple between his fingers.
"Michael, oh yes, Michael! So good..."
"You inspire me to greatness, dove,” he grumbled into her ear, making her tremble.
"More,” she begged softly. “I need more."
In an instant he swept her up off her feet with a primal growl to carry her back into the bedroom.
He was about to drop her into the middle of the bed when she suddenly clutched him tightly around the neck. “Wait!” There was a thread of panic to her voice.
"Why?"
"I can't, not here. It's his bed, our bed. It ... it just wouldn't be right."
The reminder was a dash of cold water. She still wasn't his. The bastard still had access to parts of her he didn't. And apparently their marriage bed was still sacred enough to her.
He slowly dropped her back to her feet. “Right then. Hurry up and get dressed. We're gonna be late."
"So we're late.” And her mouth captured his. She pushed him back, pulling his shirts from his trousers, unbuttoning his slacks. He crushed his confusion beneath her desire.
He was surprised to feel a door slam up against his back. He opened his eyes to see they were standing in the hall against one of the closed doors. She reached around him and turned the knob. He grabbed her and pulled her with him as he stumbled into the room. She pushed his trousers down as she backed him up to the edge of the bed and pushed him to sit down before straddling his lap. “Lindy...” He clutched her to him as she rose over him. “Thought it wasn't right. Thought you couldn't oh Christ.” He buried his face in her shoulder as she took him in, sinking down on the full length of his shaft.
"Guest room, guest bed.” Her eyes closed and her head rolled back as she began rising and falling on him.
"'m feeling real welcome now...” His arms tightened around her waist, bringing her down on him harder and harder.
She growled. “Don't you have anything better to do with you mouth?"
"Might.” He nosed the edge of her bra down, freeing her breast to his attention. He twisted the tip of his tongue around the nipple before sucking hard on it. She screamed and arched, but he didn't release her, keeping the suction tight as he bounced her hard above him. He could feel her inner muscles twitching around him, pulling him, squeezing him with each thrust.
"Oh yes harder ... god yes,” she babbled, and he could tell neither of them could last much longer. “Fuck Michael feels ... oh god so deep ... almost ... almost..."
He bit down on her nipple.
The howl that burst from her lips would have scared the neighbors any other night of the year. He plunged one last time through the strangling muscles of her quim and came with his own grateful roar, each burst a soul satisfying release.
After it was over, she sagged against him in limp contentment, her arms draped over his shoulders and down his back as he placed soft kisses along her neck and face. “Can we just sleep for a couple of hours?"
"We could, but Diana might be disappointed."
"Oh right, we're supposed to go out.” She gingerly pulled herself off him to collapse on the bed next to him, her arm over her eyes. She drew a deep, shuddering breath and slowly released it before looking at him. “You are a terrible influence. Now I have to start getting ready all over again."
He leaned over her with a smile. “I don't know, you aren't too bad off. Lip color, more red than pink, but check.” He ghosted his fingertips over her mouth before moving on to her hair. “Hair loose and windblown, check. Sweet little knickers, check.” He pulled the cup back over to cover her tender breast. “Just throw on a dress and a pair of shoes and you're good to go."
She pushed herself up with a groan. “Call a cab while I finish. And call Diana,” she continued from the next room. “You can explain to her why we're late!"
He chuckled unrepentantly.
Chapter 30
The cab ride down to lower Manhattan was quiet. Rogue held Lindy wrapped in his arms as the lights of the city flashed by, and he reveled in this quiet moment of contentment, dropping light kisses on her head, stroking her arm gently with his thumb. This was a moment the bastard couldn't take away from him.
The last three days at work had been hell. Everywhere he went, Stevens was there, with that condescending smile on his face, putting his greasy paw prints all over every moment Rogue and Lindy spent together. After that first confrontation, he never mentioned the affair again, but somehow constantly implied it, and with it implied layers of meaning Rogue hated to think about. Always hanging over them was the threat of what Gabriel would do. Rogue was beginning to think his own imagination was worse than anything Gabriel could actually come up with.
Yesterday had been the worst so far, although Rogue wasn't foolish enough to believe it was the worst it could get.
Stevens had come into his office after the preliminary presentation to the Robartsmaan management team. “Well, I think that went well, don't you?” he said, perching on the front of the desk.
"Fine.” Rogue ignored him, focusing on the notes he had taken in the meeting.
Gabriel picked up the stapler off the desk and studied it. “I know the final presentation to corporate is Monday, but it turns out I have to go to Chicago on another project for the weekend. Think you can manage affairs here while I'm gone?"
"I can manage just fine,” he ground out.
"I'm sure you can. Just don't want to overstep."
Rogue didn't reply.
"I feel bad going away for so long, you know? Lindy hates to be alone. Still, I'm sure she'll find something meaningless to occupy her time with until I get back."
"Did you have a point, or are you just waxing my desk with your ass for fun?"
"Hey, maybe you could check in on her for me. You'd be doing me a big favor."
"Get out."
Gabriel smirked as he rose, pausing at the door, a look of false gratitude on his face. “I'd really appreciate it."
It had taken all of Rogue's restraint not to throw the damn stapler after him.
He squeezed her lightly. It was a constant struggle for him every day to tell her about Gabriel or not. She seemed so happy right now, he hated to take that away from her. But she had shown him tonight that no matter what direction she was moving, she still had loyalties to her marriage. If she knew, she would want to do the right thing. Which meant giving him up and going back to the bastard to try to make things up to him. Rogue didn't trust the son of a bitch not to use it against her, using guilt and shame to control her, crush her spirit.
He was honest enough with
himself to admit that he wasn't ready to lose her yet.
"What are you thinking about so hard?” Lindy turned her head up to look at him curiously.
"You.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “You're all I think about."
She smiled and snuggled up against him. “You should get a life."
Except that the life he wanted was with her. “I'll get right on that."
He'd tell her. He had to. Just ... not right now. After the weekend, after they'd had their time together. Or at the end of the week, when he had to give her up anyway.
But he wasn't strong enough to do it now.
Lindy belonged to him for the weekend, however Gabriel might try to spoil that, and Rogue intended to take full advantage of the fact. Show her in deeds if not in words what he felt and how she could be treated by the right man.
The cab dropped them in a quiet residential block on the Lower East Side. Lindy waited as he paid the driver, then leaned against him as he put his arm comfortably around her shoulders. She felt unusually stiff, and he didn't think it was from the cold. “Nervous, pet?” he asked, a bit surprised.
"A little bit.” She wrapped her arms tight around herself. “It's been a long time since I went out for anything but business."
"Meaning Gabriel's business."
She nodded. “I couldn't tell you when the last time was that I went to a purely social dinner."
Rogue gave her an encouraging squeeze. “You'll do fine. You've got me, and you know Diana already. You two have all manner of things to get on about. Art school, galleries, the local art scene."
"And you. We can always talk about you."
"Oh, bloody ... is this where you start pryin’ out all my past doings?"
She laughed. “If it wasn't before, it is now!"
"Well, don't waste your time. Bird doesn't know a thing."
She elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “You are a terrible liar."
He sighed melodramatically. “You just aren't going to let this go, are you?"
"Do you really expect me to?"
He stopped her, turning her more fully into his arms. “No. I don't ever want you to let go.” And he captured her mouth in a slow, wet kiss that brought them both a measure of peace.
* * * *
The building he led her to was an Arts and Crafts style apartment building, complete with paneled lobby and wrought iron elevator cage. Rogue kept Lindy close to him as they rode up the seven floors to Diana's apartment.
The door to apartment 713 bore a wreath made of woven wheat and dried apple slices, arranged so that the little stars made by the apple cores showed clearly. “You ready?” he asked.
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Ready."
He smiled supportively and knocked on the door.
A moment later Diana opened the door, accompanied by a cloud of warm air heavily scented with exotic spice and incense. “You made it!” She leaned in to kiss Rogue lightly on the cheek. “And only half an hour late."
"When have you ever known me to be punctual?"
"I think it's happened once or twice.” She smiled softly.
"Exception that proves the rule."
"And Lindy!” Her smile, still warm, turned a bit shy. “It's great to see you again. Won't you come in?"
Rogue rested his hand on the small of Lindy's back as he guided her down the long paneled hall to the living room. He felt rather than saw her reaction to the room. A slight intake of breath, an instant's hesitation, and Rogue knew she loved it as much as he did.
The room was rich in dark paneling and burgundy paint. The hardwood floors were covered in worn hand-woven rugs which set off the plushly cushioned, tapestry upholstered sofa and chenille slip covered armchairs. The focal point of the wall opposite them was a tiled fireplace with a small fire crackling merrily away, framed by wide, built in bookshelves running floor to ceiling and stuffed tight with all manner of books. Where there wasn't molding on the walls, art hung, all manner of artists and styles arranged together in a harmonious cacophony. Track lights emphasized the occasional piece, but they were turned low and supplemented by candles burning in wrought iron holders attached to the walls throughout the room, with more candles lit on every available surface. It was warm and comfortable and inviting. For Rogue, it was sanctuary, second only to Lindy's arms.
"Here, let me take your coats,” Diana offered.
"Oh!” Lindy remembered herself. “These are for you.” She offered up the handful of orange and maroon sunflowers she had brought.
"They're beautiful!” Diana buried her face in them as Rogue helped Lindy off with her coat. Diana took their coats and handed the flowers to Rogue. “Will you put those in water while I give Lindy the tour?"
"Glad to, pet.” He watched as they disappeared down the hall, then headed to the kitchen with a smile.
Mercedes was there already, dicing tomatoes and peppers for the salad. “Hey, English,” she said, never taking her eyes off the knife. “How's it hangin'?"
"Down and to the left, last I checked.” He reached into the armoire they used as storage space to pull out a hand thrown vase. “You?"
"Still high and firm.” She glanced up at him as she scraped the red and green pieces into a low bowl. “So, you finally got a girlfriend, huh?"
He put the vase under the faucet and turned the water on. “Just keep your hands to yourself, yeah?"
She snorted. “Please. I've seen your ex. You've got terrible taste in women."
"Seein’ as how I was hot for your honey once upon an age ago, I'd watch how hard you toss those stones."
She stuck her tongue out at him and began dressing the salad.
He chuckled as he arranged the flowers haphazardly in the vase, then dropped a quick kiss on top of her head on his way by. “Brat."
She grinned. “Dumbass."
He set the vase on the mantle as Lindy and Diana came back into the living room. “I can't believe you have this wonderful apartment and it's rent controlled."
"I was really lucky,” Diana agreed. “I found it listed in the paper my sophomore year at Columbia. The couple that had it before was big arts supporters, so they were happy to sign over the lease to a young couple just starting out in the art world."
"Couple?"
"That would be me.” Rogue couldn't resist wrapping his arms around Diana's shoulders. “I've been Mr. Diana Simms so often, she should pay me alimony."
"A gay woman should always keep a male friend on hand for just such emergencies."
He hugged her with a chuckle, pleased to see that Lindy was smiling, too. “You want a glass of wine, dearest?"
She turned her head to look up at him. “Yes, please."
"Lindy, love?"
"That would be nice."
Mercedes popped out of the kitchen. “Did I hear alcohol mentioned?"
"Wine,” Rogue confirmed.
"Well, you know what I want."
"Right. One fruity girly drink with a little paper umbrella coming right up."
"Jerk."
As he opened the wine, he watched Diana make the introductions between Lindy and Mercedes. Mercedes's combination of pleated plaid miniskirt and thigh-high mistress of pain boots seemed to throw Lindy for a minute, but he was pleased to see her quickly adapt to the girl, and ask her the standard questions about her background, education and current life goals without discomfort. Mercedes excused herself after a few minutes of conversation, pausing to get her gin and tonic from Rogue on her way back to the kitchen. “Nice piece there."
"Told you.” He handed her the drink. “Now hands off."
"I'll think about it."
He swatted her on the behind as she passed.
Diana and Lindy had moved over to a small table by the window, heavy with pictures and votive candles surrounding a small silver bowl holding a clear liquid that Rogue knew to be rum, an offering to the deceased being honored by the shrine. “This is my mother,” Diana explained, indicating a large
photo in a silver frame. “She died when I was sixteen. And that's Mercedes's brother. He was killed in a car accident three years ago."
"So, I guess this is a really sad holiday for you,” Lindy said, accepting the wine from him.
"No, not at all. This is the night the world of the living and the world of the dead are closest. So it's the one night of the year that we can send them messages and maybe get an answer. And if nothing else, it's a comfort to remember them, especially for those who have lost someone in the last year."
"It sounds wonderful. I've never known a witch before."
Diana smiled. “Well, you won't be able to say that anymore! But you probably know more of us than you think."
"Lookin’ for another convert, pet?” Rogue asked playfully while stroking his free hand gently along Lindy's back.
"You know we don't do that,” Diana chided him. “If we did, the whole coven would be nagging me about recruiting you."
Lindy looked puzzled. “Why Michael?"
Diana smiled, a wicked twinkle in her eye. “Because we don't have many men. And because he's a good-looking guy. If you like that sort of thing."
Lindy laughed and looked over her shoulder at him. “Everybody wants you."
"And you thought I was exaggerating my charms.” He kissed her lightly.
Mercedes came in with a bowl in each hand to set on the table. “Who's hungry?"
Dinner was a Moroccan feast, with a chicken tagine, the tomato and pepper salad Mercedes had been working on, couscous with plump currants, and a second salad of carrot coins and onion. Everything was redolent of cumin and cinnamon and coriander. “This is incredible, ladies.” Rogue complimented them, suitably impressed.
"Diana did most of the actual cooking,” Mercedes admitted, handing him the bowl of couscous. “I just did the chopping and mixing."
"Which ended up producing half the meal,” Diana admonished her.
"Well, it all smells wonderful!” Lindy said.
The meal was comfortable, with conversation flowing as easily as the wine. He and Mercedes discussed music, and especially the passing of Warren Zevon. Lindy and Diana talked about the challenges of relocating to New York City. Lindy asked Mercedes about her band, what kind of music and where they played, while Rogue got the rundown on last night's opening from Diana. He was gratified to see how well Lindy got along with both women. Lindy had been right. It was a bit like bringing her home to meet his family.
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