Page 36 of Rogue

Rogue spoke about loyalty and justice. Fairness and the way things must be. And just like that hope returned to my heart.

Along with the knowledge that I made the absolutely right choice coming here tonight. The stocky man left in a huff, and now Rogue is walking towards me, the glowing warmth in his eyes just for me.

“You came,” he says, sounding like it’s a dream come true for him.

I deflect, telling him what a great president he makes. He had them eating out of his palm and he doesn’t even seem to realize it. And all the while, he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing he wants to be seeing. But that won’t last. Not after that stocky Tito guy tells him who I really am.

I don’t have a lot of time with Rogue. We’ve only just begun, but our days are already numbered. And I mean to make the best of them.

It’s not hard for me to be seductive. Not after years and years of honing the skill. And it works like a charm on Rogue. Better than it ever has on anyone before him.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he says as he leads me to a table.

“I almost didn’t,” I admit and smile. “I waited for you for almost an hour before I finally got the message that you weren’t coming. Ever thought about calling sooner?”

I smile again, to soften the blow.

“Couldn’t be helped,” he says. “If I had your phone number it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“I don’t have a local number yet,” I lie.

We won’t be exchanging numbers. We’ll just be having a little bit of fun. He’s the kind of guy that gets under your skin. If I didn’t realize it last night, I saw it clearly today. And the only way to deal with that is to get it out of your system.

I spent the whole day thinking about him. I came here because he wanted me to come. If I’m not careful, I’ll just keep on doing everything he wants from me. And then what? He’ll find out who I am and I’ll be left kneeling on the floor, picking up the pieces of my heart, like I’ve had to do so many times before when I mistook a guy’s lust and sweet words fueled by desire for genuine affection.

“What do you want to drink?”

You,I almost say, but that’d be carrying it too far. Although it’s the truth.

It’s not just that I want him. I suddenly need him. Need that warmth in his eyes and in his voice washing over me when he speaks. I need it all to myself. Even if it’s just for tonight. I’m happy I came here tonight. Loneliness has no meaning when he looks at me like he’s looking at me right now.

I ask for a scotch and coke. He goes to get it. The room is emptying, but the ones still in here are all sneaking glances at me while I wait for him to return. Curious glances. Surprised even. But not unwelcoming.

I drink about half the glass after he brings it.

“You had anything to eat yet?” he asks.

I’m gonna need him to stop being all gentleman-y. I’m gonna need him to let loose all that lust and desire making his eyes dark as he looks at me.

“Nope,” I say and wink at him over the rim of the glass. “But food can wait.”

“Oh, I see,” he says and grins. “You just came here to give me a wound check, or whatever you call it.”

“Yes, that’s exactly it,” I say. “But it’s a little crowded down here, don’t you think? Your room would be better.”

“Hey, you’re the doc,” he says and downs his whiskey in one long swallow. I finish my drink too.

“Lead the way,” I say and he takes my hand and does exactly that.

The crowd parts for us fluidly, the glances and whispers still surprised, still curious, still welcoming.

As soon as the heavy door of the barroom is closed behind us and we’re standing beneath the stairs leading up, he pulls me closer then presses me against the cool wall, towering over me. Being this close the warmth he gives off is almost enough to sear. It’s nearly dark in here, but the fire in his eyes gives plenty of light. And almost too much warmth.

“Did I ever tell you how hot you are?” he asks breathlessly. “Or that you drive me crazy?”

“Not in so many words,” I say. “But you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

I stand on my toes and kiss him.

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