Page 23 of Going Rogue
Trying to keep my hands off Rogue might be the death of me.
Crane rinsed the basin before filling a water jug from the trough he’d hidden behind earlier. He thought about pouring a full pitcher over his head to cool off, but the water wasn’t cold enough to do any good.
What he needed was the coldest of cold showers. Though he didn’t have high confidence, even that would work. Grumbling, he started to pace. His body had gone to war with his brain. The former wanted to seduce her—show her the many ways he could bring her pleasure—but when he wasn’t thinking with his dick, he knew he had to give her time. A chance to adjust to the idea of a relationship with him because he wanted her heart as much as her body.
The only problem? Whenever he came in close proximity to her, he ached to kiss her.Desire had never cut so sharply before and ignoring it might be the most challenging mission he’d ever undertaken.
He stopped wearing a rut in the sand and blew out a breath, which did nothing to loosen the pressure, squeezing his muscles. Hoisting the basin and water, he made his way back to their tent. It was going to be a very long night because his blood couldn’t possibly get any hotter.
Crane halted as soon as he stepped inside.
I was wrong.
“Where are your clothes?” Desperation strained his voice to the point he barely recognized it.
With a deliberate head tilt, Rogue pointed to the neat pile she’d made on the floor. But he’d already taken it in. What he’d meant was, why the hell wasn’t she wearing them?
Sweat that had nothing to do with the temperature beaded on his forehead. He swallowed but the lump in his throat didn’t move. Was it possible she meant to kill him? Because prancing around in this getup would surely do it.
She’d always been hidden under loose-fitting clothing, but now all her assets were on full, mouth-watering display. His gaze traveled up the toned length of her delectable legs, passed over the swell of her shapely hips to the narrow line of her waist, and stalled on the curves of her heavy breasts, barely contained in the tight spandex material.
Look away, asshole.
But he couldn’t.
“What?” Her graceful fingers traced the edges of her outfit, and his mouth salivated. “This is more than a swimsuit covers.”
Seriously? What kind of swimsuit does she wear?He instantly pictured her in a string bikini and whimpered.
Shewastrying to kill him.
“Is that for me?” Rogue advanced, and he instinctively backed up a step, crashing into the tent flap, which had closed behind him. He bobbled the basin as he caught himself, and the liquid in the jug sloshed. The metal bowl landed on the carpets with a thud. She grabbed the pitcher before he managed to lose its contents. “What’s with you?”
The look she threw at him spoke of puzzlement, but he had to wonder . . . how could she not know what she did to him? A frustrated growl left his chest, and he grabbed her before he had a chance to think about it. One hand cupped her perfect ass while the other pulled her lips to his.
He felt her initial surprise wane into acceptance. She opened for him with a little moan that triggered a landmine in his blood. The heat of the blast clouded everything out, except the desire to feel each soft bit of her pressed to every hard bit of him. His hands roamed her curves, but the damn jug got in the way. She still held it, wedged between their chests.
While he practically mauled her like some kind of rabid bear.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Crane pushed her away and scrubbed both hands over his face, afraid to meet her gaze.
“Why? I want . . .” When she trailed off, he looked at her. Her cheeks had flushed with embarrassed heat.
“Tell me what you want, Rogue,” he rasped with the last shred of his control. “Because whatI wantis to make you comeoverandover again.”
Her lips parted, releasing a shocked breath at the same time her hands slackened their hold on the jug of water. He snagged it from her before she dropped it and set it on the ground next to where the basin had fallen.
“Um,” she mumbled.
Watching her teeth assault her lower lip while desire swirled in the dark rum of her eyes was sweet agony. The color in her cheeks flared again, and an invisible force pulled him closer until he breathed in the same air as her.
Even battle-worn, her sweetly spicy scent enticed him like no fancy perfume ever had. Savoring it, he leaned in further. Her skin felt as smooth as silk under the glide of his nose as he tested the heat blooming along her cheeks. “Whatever you want, Rogue. It’s yours.”I’m yours.
Though he didn’t say the words aloud, their truth seared itself into the marrow of his bones—more permanent than any tattoo, which would only fade with time.
“I don’t know how to do this.” She let out a huff of disgust. “But I want to.” Her hands gripped his shirt in tight fists. “I want you.”
The part of him, which hadn’t wanted to pressure her, evaporated into steam when his blood fired at her request. They would have the physical and so much more. His heart wouldn’t settle for less.
