Rogue Devil

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Rogue Devil Page 13

by Kylie Gilmore


  “No, you were right. I need it, or I’ll burn out before I reach my goal.”

  “So I’m wise, eh? Never been accused of that before.”

  We smile at each other for a long moment. I think she’s as happy as I am that we’re hanging out again.

  I snap to attention. “Right. So let me put these cookies back at my place and get my Frisbee.”

  “Great. I’ll meet you in a few. I need to get my sunscreen and a hat.”

  I turn to go and then stop, turning back to her. “What’re you doing on the Fourth of July?” It’s this Thursday and I have off work for the long weekend.

  “I don’t know. What’re we doing?”

  I grin. “You’re going to my family’s Fourth of July barbecue. My dad makes a big deal ever since he became an American citizen. You know everyone. It’ll be fun.”

  She points a finger at me, smiling. “I’m there.”

  My heart beats a little faster at that beautiful smile. I head back to my place, feeling lighter already.

  Chloe

  All I can say is thank God Brendan doesn’t hold a grudge. We’re hanging out again, popping into each other’s apartments at all hours. I was so afraid I’d lost him forever. He’s just such a good guy, and I know I can tell him anything. He really listens when I share about my work at the lab, which still isn’t as great as all the interesting things I want to pursue in future research topics. He follows along surprisingly well, too, considering he never studied bio and chem past high school. He’s smart, warm, and so good humored it makes me feel light and happy just being around him.

  But there are moments.

  Fierce moments that steal my breath, where the chemistry between us is such a powerful force I’m dying to cross the line, even as I’m terrified it’ll ruin everything. How can I keep him as a friend when I feel so much more? I’m not sure how much longer I can resist him. Sara told me before that when the right person comes along, no matter how scary it feels, it’s worth taking a risk. She speaks from experience, but it seems like her taking a chance on Adrian was a lot less risky. They were childhood friends with years to build trust in each other before they crossed the line. Not at all the same thing here. She also said I tend to shut down when things get too intense, but it doesn’t feel that way with Brendan. I don’t shut down at all. In fact, after I see him, I’m so wired, my nerves raw and exposed, it takes hours to settle enough to sleep. I’m too open to him, too vulnerable, and the crazy part is I still don’t want to let him go. Does that mean he’s the right person for me? Am I the right person for him? I just don’t know.

  I pace my apartment, my legs jittery with nerves, my chest tight. He’ll be here soon to pick me up for the Fourth of July barbecue, and I’m afraid I’ve built this weekend up too much in my mind. I made a deal with myself to take the holiday weekend off for the sole purpose of spending as much time with him as possible. It’s the only way to know if he’s the right person to take a risk on.

  He knocks on the door using our secret knock, which is rapid tapping like a woodpecker. It’s just annoying enough to be funny. Except my breathing accelerates too much to laugh.

  “Just a minute,” I say, forcing a cheerful tone. I close my eyes and picture Sara with her warm eyes and loving smile, encouraging me to take a chance. My mind flashes to her and Adrian sitting close on the sofa, gazing at their beautiful baby. I calm thinking of sweet baby Henry.

  I open the door. “Happy Fourth of July!”

  His smile is warm, taking me in, and my jitters disappear. “Look at you, all red, white, and blue.”

  I do a small curtsy. “Thank you.” I’m wearing a white tank top and blue jeans with a red cardigan tied around my waist for later. I figure we’ll stay out late to watch fireworks and it might get cool. “And where’s your red, white, and blue?”

  He looks down at himself and pats himself over. “It’s here somewhere.”

  I laugh. He’s wearing a black T-shirt with black basketball shorts. “Are you wearing American flag boxers?”

  He lifts the waistband of his shorts, peeks down, and does a double take like he’s shocked at what he’s wearing. “Tasmanian devil.” He’s so funny.

  “Really?”

  He inclines his head. “Wanna peek?”

  My cheeks flush. “Let’s go.” I brush past him.

  “Sure?” he teases, holding the door for me.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” I say over my shoulder with a laugh.

  “I’ll wear an American flag like a cape later,” he says as we head downstairs. “Like Super American Man.”

  “You mean Captain America.”

  “General America. I like to think of myself more like a general.”

  “Of course you do.”

  He pushes the heavy front door open, holding it for me. I duck under his arm into the bright sunshine of a perfect summer day shimmering with promise.

  “Chloe,” a deep voice calls.

  I turn and freeze, my stomach dropping. “Michael,” I whisper.

  He crosses to us and glares at Brendan before turning back to me. “I saw you with him in Villroy. Are you a couple now?”

  My head spins. I can’t believe he’s here, all the way from Villroy. How did he find me? Then I remember I gave him my address to mail back my stuff. “Michael, I had no idea you planned to visit.”

  He crosses his burly arms over his chest. “Obviously.”

  Brendan offers his hand to shake. “We haven’t officially met. Brendan Rourke.”

  Michael ignores him.

  I turn to Michael. “Brendan’s my neighbor and friend. We were just on our way out to a barbecue.”

  “Chloe, can I talk to you alone?” Michael asks.

  A horrifying thought occurs. “Wait, did something happen with Sara?”

  “No, she’s fine,” he says. “This is just between you and me.”

  I relax a little and glance at Brendan. His jaw is tight, his entire body tense. “I’ll just be a minute, okay?”

  I gesture Michael farther away down the sidewalk. I don’t want to invite him up to my place. I want to keep this public because I have a feeling this is going to go very, very badly. For him to travel so far just to see me, especially when I’ll be visiting Villroy soon, well, it’s not something a casual friend does.

  “What is it, Michael? Why did you come here? I told you I’d be visiting Sara in a few weeks.”

  “I knew you’d be off work today, and I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.”

  I worry my lower lip. “You didn’t need to come all this way.”

  He puts a hand on my arm. “I love you. I’m never going to stop loving you, and this time apart has been so…” His voice catches. “So very hard. I realized my mistake. I wasn’t giving your job the consideration it deserves, that you deserve. I shouldn’t have asked you to do your medical training in France. I decided I’ll move to the US to be with you.”

  I gasp. “No, Michael, don’t do that. You have a great job in Villroy with free housing and everything. There’s nothing like that for you here.”

  His voice is gruff with emotion. “My job means nothing compared to you.”

  My heart sinks because I just don’t feel what he feels. I glance over my shoulder at Brendan, a surge of affection rushing through me just at the sight of him. That’s when it hits me—Brendan’s in my heart already, even though I thought I’d kept it firmly closed. He must be the right person for me.

  Brendan takes a step forward, and I shake my head. I don’t want him to come over here. I swallow hard and turn back to Michael. “I’m sorry. I just don’t feel the same way. I think you should go.”

  He glares over my shoulder. “Because of him?”

  “This has nothing to do with him. It’s me.”

  But he doesn’t seem to hear me. He strides over to Brendan and gets in his face. Shit! The two of them square off.

  I rush over. “Back away. Brendan is a friend, Michael.”

  He doesn’
t take his eyes off Brendan, glaring at him, nearly nose to nose.

  I appeal to Brendan instead. “Please, Bren, let’s just go.”

  Brendan’s eyes narrow, his voice a fierce growl. “You lay a hand on me, a Rourke, and your job is over. I’ll have you banished from Villroy forever. Your duty is to protect the Rourke family no matter what.”

  “Don’t tell me my duty,” Michael snaps. But he backs up a step.

  “Glad we understand each other,” Brendan says.

  Michael glares at him before pointing at me. “Here’s something you should understand about Chloe. She’s heartless. An empty shell of a person. Did she tell you she never cries? Not even when her parents died.”

  “Michael!” I shared that in confidence.

  He goes on. “She went mute, shutting out the world.” He shakes a finger at Brendan. “She’ll shut you out too. That’s what she does.”

  “You should leave,” Brendan says to him quietly.

  Michael takes a step toward me. “Chloe—”

  Brendan grabs his arm, pulling him away from me. Michael whirls and tosses Brendan to the sidewalk in one swift move.

  I rush to Brendan, leaning over him protectively, and look over my shoulder at Michael. “Go away!”

  Michael’s lip curls. “You want him because he’s royal? You’re just like your sister, climbing above your station. You’re no better than me, a penniless orphan nobody wanted.”

  I blink, speechless. That’s what he thinks of me? I always had Sara. And she wasn’t reaching above her station. She and Adrian were friends since they were kids. I told Michael that before. He’s just trying to hurt me.

  Brendan stands, and I join him. He wraps an arm protectively around my shoulders. “She told you to go.”

  I glare at Michael and speak in a low tone, fury in every syllable. “My sister is the best, most loving, most selfless person I know. I hope one day I’m just like her, and that has nothing to do with who she married. Don’t ever talk about my sister like that again, or I’ll be sure her husband hears about it. You’ll be out on your ass so fast your head will spin.”

  “You’re incapable of love,” he snaps before stalking away.

  I swallow hard, the words stinging because they have a ring of truth to them. I’ve always feared I couldn’t truly love. I love my sister and my nephew, but that’s different. Maybe I’m not capable of giving Brendan the love he deserves, which means I’m not the right person for him. No, I can’t let Michael decide that for me. He’s angry and lashing out. My gut churns, doubt lingering in my mind.

  “You defended me,” Brendan says, shifting to face me. “You put your petite little body between manly me and a trained assassin.”

  I check him over, suddenly worried. “He threw you to the concrete. Are you hurt anywhere? Do we need the first-aid kit?”

  He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “You’re not heartless, Chloe.”

  “I know.” I’m broken. The awful truth stays with me.

  He cups my cheek. “And I know you feel something for me.”

  I swallow hard, my stomach fluttering, nerves racing through me. I want to agree, but what comes out is, “We’re friends.”

  His eyes are kind, his tone gentle. “I think it’s time we stop denying what’s between us.”

  “I’m not denying.”

  “Then kiss me.”

  My heart pounds, and my hands actually shake. I don’t want him to know how much taking that step terrifies me, so I bluff my way through. “What will that prove? Are you trying to get me to hook up with you?”

  “Sure. Let’s hook up.”

  He’s way too casual about what is a huge deal for us!

  I’m furious and scared and shaken from Michael’s unexpected visit and his harsh words. I lift my chin, closing my hands into fists to stop their trembling. “Fine. We’ll hook up, and then you’ll see it’ll ruin everything—” my voice hitches “—and you’ll be sprinting out the door.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  We stare at each other for a tense moment.

  I don’t know who moves first, but we slam together, kissing wildly right there on the sidewalk. Brendan’s strong arms wrap around me, the only thing keeping me anchored in the storm of feelings raging through me. All my lust, all my bottled-up emotion pour into the kiss. I’m out of control.

  He breaks the kiss long moments later and hugs me tight. My entire body relaxes. I feel safe in his arms, and I’m not trembling anymore. His voice is husky, rumbling through his chest. “Upstairs.”

  It’s not a question.

  It was always going to come to this. I knew it the first time we got close.

  He holds his hand out to me, and I take it, following him back into the building and upstairs.

  14

  Chloe

  He unlocks the door to his apartment, grabbing my hand again and taking me to his bedroom. No pretty words, no seduction. He’s straight and to the point. This is a man I understand.

  He stops next to the bed and pulls me close. His big hand cradles my jaw, his gaze smoldering. “Chloe, I’ve waited so long for this.”

  I still. “Did you ever want to be my friend? Or was that just a way to get us to this moment?”

  His eyes widen. He recovers himself and frames my face with his hands. “I wanted to be close to you in any way I could. I ignored the attraction, even though it was torture. I just need to be with you.”

  My breath catches. He needs to be with me. Not want, need. No one’s ever needed me for anything. “Why?”

  “Because you’re unique. I’ll never meet another woman as brilliant and sexy and fun as you ever again.”

  I blink, stunned. I’ve heard brilliant before, but I’ve never been called fun in my life. And only the guys I’ve slept with called me sexy. “You’re the fun one.”

  “We’re fun together.” He dips his head to kiss me gently. “Why are you so short?”

  I giggle. He’s nearly a foot taller. I give his chest a playful shove, directing him to the bed. He takes the hint and sits on the bed, pulling me onto his lap, straddling him.

  “Much better,” he says against my lips before sealing his mouth over mine. I tilt my head, deepening the kiss, and his tongue spears inside. Desire pools low in my belly. His hand slides to my ass, keeping me close as lust floods me. The kiss turns wild, out of control, as the fire ignites between us.

  He breaks the kiss and pulls my tank top over my head, tossing it behind me, and then makes short work of the bra. He caresses my breasts, cupping them as his mouth crashes over mine again. My fingers spear through his hair, sharp need building. His thumbs strum across the tight, hard points of my nipples, shooting pleasure through me. I grab the bottom of his shirt and rip it off.

  He sets me on my feet and strips me out of my tied cardigan, jeans, and panties. Then he strips too, his gaze eating me up. As soon as he’s naked, I launch myself at him.

  He falls back on the mattress, taking me with him, and then rolls on top of me, resting his forearms on the mattress on either side of my head. He strokes my cheek. “Chloe.” His voice is husky, his gaze tender.

  “Bren,” I whisper.

  He cradles my jaw and kisses me deeply. I spread my legs further, needing more. But he’s in no hurry, kissing me like he has all the time in the world. Then he shifts, kissing a trail along my jaw and down my throat.

  “Why’re you being so gentle?” I blurt.

  He dips his tongue in the notch of my collarbones and kisses a hot trail along one collarbone. I move restlessly under him.

  He lifts his head. “Because it’s our first time making love.”

  “I like fucking better.”

  His lips twitch. “Love that mouth.” He places a soft kiss at the corner of my mouth and then the other corner. My lips part on a sigh. He traces my mouth with a finger, studying my lips before nipping my lower lip and then sucking on it. Pleasure spears through me.

  He takes my earlobe between his teet
h and gives it a tug. His lips brush across my earlobe before he says, “I plan to take my time.”

  I moan.

  He lifts himself enough to slide a hand between my legs, stroking me lazily. “Would you like it if I took you deep and hard?”

  “Yesss,” I hiss as his fingers work a slow, sensual spell, his voice nearly hypnotic.

  “And then, on the second round, I lift you over me and make you sit on my face.” His fingers thrust inside me as his thumb strums a steady rhythm.

  My breath comes harder, but I still manage to say, “Yes.” He shifted next to me at some point. I’m too lost in pleasure to care.

  “And then I’ll turn you around and impale you on me.” He does something with his fingers that makes me see stars. My hips rock mindlessly, white-hot pleasure flooding me.

  His voice is gravelly. “I’ll let you ride me at your own rhythm until I take control, taking what I need while you beg me for release.”

  Everything in me coils tight, imagining what he describes at the same time as he works me with his fingers. I moan softly, the need so all-consuming, my release just out of reach.

  Suddenly his touch is light as a feather. My eyes fly open. “Please, Bren.”

  His mouth crashes over mine, his fingers picking up the pace. My hips arch, and he pushes them back down, continuing his sensual torture.

  I moan deep in my throat.

  He breaks the kiss. “I love your throaty moans. Give me more of that, Chloe.”

  And then he shifts down my body, down, down, down, his mouth closing over my center. I grip his hair, tugging mindlessly, throaty cries ripped from my throat. His mouth is wicked, his fingers relentless, pushing me on and on. Yes! This is what I needed. My entire body bows, and I break, the orgasm crashing through me in a hard rush of pleasure. I collapse, panting.

  He shifts, rising over me, pausing to suckle my breast in tight tugs. I moan softly. He leaves me long enough to reach for a condom in the nightstand. Then finally he’s where I want him, wedging himself between my legs. I wrap my legs high around his waist, and he takes me in one hard thrust, letting out a low moan of his own.

 

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