Page 17 of Damaged

Rogue shoved his hands into the front pockets of his black pants to keep them from reaching for Wrath.

“So…” he began, sorry that he’d been so abrupt a moment ago.

“There’s the door, I won’t keep you.” Wrath’s voice was quiet and devoid of emotion.

Hot anger flooded his chest, and he squeezed his hands into fists. Wasn’t this what he wanted? To drive a wedge between him and Wrath? Yes, that was exactly what needed to happen! Then why did he feel like shit? And why was he beyond pissed off at the sudden indifference in Wrath’s voice?

Call him stupid, but he did something he never thought he would do in this lifetime.

Stalking to the bed, he sank fingers into Wrath’s long hair at his nape and turned the man toward him. With that one clenched fist, Rogue tipped Wrath’s head up and glared down into the man’s surprised pale blue eyes.

This was a long time coming for them.

Wrath’s tongue came out to wet his lips and when the man fisted the front of his black, skin-tight shirt and pulled him down, Rogue didn’t resist.

There was nothing tentative about the kiss when his lips touched Wrath’s mouth.

Explosions rocked the room, and Rogue crushed his mouth down on Wrath’s, parting the man’s lips, and swept inside the warm wetness until their tongues tangled. Craving didn’t describe what blasted through his body and when Wrath bit at his mouth, Rogue’s cock turned into hardened steel.

A throat clearing at the door was like a shock of cold water and he pulled back and turned away, shielding Wrath with his body in case of any threat.

The charge nurse gave him a tentative smile.

“Visiting hours have ended,” she said with a cheery voice, coming further into the room.

Rogue took that moment to beat a hasty retreat.

He didn’t stop his hurried strides until he reached the parking lot and was inside his truck.

“Fuck me,” he muttered and shoved the key into the ignition.

That was not going to happen again.

No way in hell.

When his cell phone rang, he answered it from the steering wheel, pulling out of the parking lot.

“How’s your friend?”

Rogue clenched his teeth with irritation. “He’s a pain in my ass.”

Quick laughed. “He must be important.”

“I’m not sure about that.” Rogue pulled out onto the main street that would lead to the highway.

“You still coming to Nevada?” Quick changed the subject.

Rogue wracked his brain, searching for a time he could make it out of state for a visit. A few years ago, he’d met Quick through a friend while doing a job in Alaska.

“I’ll make it happen. Will Jagger be at the ranch?” Rogue asked. The three of them had hit it off and completed the job together.

The property he was talking about was a one hundred and eighty-five acre ranch that Quick owned in Smith, Nevada.

Quick grew quiet. “No, he’s on a job.”

“Ah, okay.”

“There’s been some…changes on the ranch,” Quick murmured.

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