Rogan

The bolt of my M-16 locked in place. I slipped it in the bag next to the tattered black and white wedding photo I'd taken on every mission over the last four years.

I mashed ten extra tees in the corner of my duffel bag. We'd have a long hunt for Jericho, so I packed heavy, all my scopes for any terrain.

Jericho's son, codename Timeron, was the key. Diesel had located him from videos and audiotape he'd posted online. He was being groomed to take over for his father. If we found him, he'd lead us to Jericho. He might need some convincing, but I'd get the intel from him. He'd cave like they all do. Then I'd kill him and laugh while I did it.

My phone lit up with a text.

T: Can you meet me at Siege?

Me: What's wrong?

T: Nothing. I just need your help

With that word help my focus shifted from killing a man to protecting her, like it did all the time now.

My flight would leave in twelve hours. Going to her meant staying up all night and giving up my last chance at shut-eye before the most important and dangerous mission of my life.

If I went now, I'd only add more memories to torture myself while I was gone.

I already had a vault of them.

Her tears in the shower the night I brought her home.

Her bouncing tits as she danced to Taylor Swift in the kitchen.

Her pert nipples poking her wet T-shirt after her shower.

The short little gasps as she got herself off while I jacked myself in the bathroom.

Her desperate pleading.

Kiss me...

The subtle rattle of her jaw and defiant challenge in her eyes. Don't call me sweet.

I rubbed my hand over my face and shook my head. I couldn't be the man for her. Even if my life didn't revolve around revenge, my touch was too deadly.

I'd sneak out tomorrow without saying goodbye. She'd find someone else to give her help.

That's where my logic always collapsed. Someone else doing my job did not sit well.

Tonight would be my last chance to help her. Her last chance to give me her sweet thank yous.

I walked to my closet to change into the suit I wore when I worked security at Siege.

What's a few more memories added to the pile?

***

Tessa

Me: Can you meet me at Siege?

R: What's wrong?

Me: Nothing. I just need your help

My legs trembled as I slipped my phone into my purse after my shift at Siege. Would Rogan come to Siege for me this late at night on a holiday? What if he did come and my crazy idea backfired?

Keep fighting till you find joy.

I left my purse and my uniform in my dressing room locker and took a deep breath as I walked into the main room. I'd been nervous all day, but after my first fireworks display, a new confidence took root inside me. Rogan and I were explosive together and if this went as planned, the fear would be worth it because my joy would be meeting me here tonight.

The heavy beat of the music thumped through my body like it was keeping me alive. I focused on the entrance, trying to recognize him in the ocean of red, white, and blue partygoers.

"What'd you need?" His angry voice snarled in my ear.

I spun and gasped. "Did you come in the back door?"

"What'd you need?"

He'd shaved his beard since I'd bumped into him in the corridor three days ago. My heart squeezed just as it did the first time I saw his transformation from bearded commando to smoking hot bodyguard.

Oh boy. "I, uh, need a... dance partner."

His brows scrunched as his dispassionate eyes raked over my outfit. I'd changed into a short, backless dress with a slit up the left thigh. At least these black pumps decorated with trailing starbursts of rhinestones made me taller next to him. I needed any inches of courage I could find.

His gaze caressed the strings of stars on the straps over my shoulders. "I was in the middle of something, Tess. Dropped everything for you."

"I'm sorry."

"You playing games with me?"

"It's Independence Day. I'm celebrating my freedom!" I threw my arms in the air and wiggled my hips. The jewels of my diamond-encrusted dress reflected magical beams of light on Rogan's black dress shirt.

His gaze moved from my waist to the scooped neckline of the dress.

"Still think I'm a young girl?"

He ran his tongue over his teeth under his lips and closed his eyes. He bent to speak into my ear and squeezed my hip between his thumb and fingers. "A young girl doing a stupid thing."

He marched to the back stairs with his arms arched away from his sides and his shoulders angled high. Dancing bodies made room for him then replaced the space he occupied.

My clenched fists held the tears at bay. Crying in front of all these people would only make the humiliation worse. I'd made a fool of myself chasing Rogan. He would always deny his attraction to me.

A warm hand on my shoulder stemmed my public breakdown. I looked up to see Enrique, the VIP from my first night at Siege, offering me a disarming smile.

"Que paso, mamacita?"

"Hi, Enrique."

"That guy upset you? Want me to set him straight?"

"No, no. It's fine."

"Forget him. Come dance with me." He grasped my hand and dragged me deeper into the crowd.

Enrique swiveled his narrow hips to the beat and raised our hands over our heads, forcing me to spin around. I stumbled and laughed as he stabilized me with a hand at my waist.

His arm at my midriff tugged me flush against his body, and I quickly learned why Enrique Gutierrez sold out concerts and topped the charts. His velvet voice in my ear as he sang along with the song made my stomach plummet. Dancing with him perked up my mood and dampened the bitter sting of my lame attempt at seducing Rogan.

"Let's take a break. I'll buy you a drink." He placed his palm on my lower back and guided me to the bar.

My feet thanked him for helping me up onto a stool and giving them a break.

"What're you drinking? How about a mojito?"

"What's a mojito?"

"Tonight you will find out." He held up one hand, and the bartender ignored all the other patrons to come to us. "Dos mojitos diablos, por favor, con cerezas."

Enrique ordering a drink nearly surpassed the pleasure of him singing in my ear. He must have women drooling all over him, and yet he was taking a moment to dance and have a drink with me.

"Now, tell me, mamacita. Who's that pendejo who left you standing alone on the dance floor?"

"Tell me more about mojitos."

"Ahh, you care for him."

"Is there a little Mo in mojitos?"

"Life is too short to let some loser bring you down."

"Tess." Rogan's voice came at me from my right side.

Enrique stood up and faced Rogan. "Get lost, cabron."

"Ella esta conmigo." Rogan spoke in Spanish to Enrique.

"Verdad?" Enrique asked with humor in his voice as he looked at me and the space between us on the barstools. "Segura que... no."

I didn't know what that meant but telling Rogan no in a smartass tone couldn't be good for your health.

The waiter dropped two pink frothy drinks on the bar behind me and skittered off.

"Tess, you're dancing with me," Rogan ordered.

"What?" I stuck my head between them.

"Let's go."

"She's about to have her first taste of a proper mojito."

Oh boy, Enrique was a brave soul to challenge Rogan so boldly.

"No. She's not. She's dancing with me." Rogan reached for me but Enrique blocked his arm. Lightning fast, Rogan grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back.

Suddenly the bar was packed with burly men. Six men I recognized from Enrique's party stood to my left with their legs wide, knees bent, hands on their waistbands, ready to pull a gun if they needed it. Lux and four other Siege security guards took similar stances behind Rogan.

Whoa. This escalated fast.

"Stand down, soldier!" Dallas approached and yelled in Rogan's face. Rogan released Enrique, and the air in the room quickly cooled. The men removed their hands from their weapons, but they remained alert and silent as Rogan and Enrique stepped away from each other.

Enrique glared at Rogan as Dallas tried to smooth things over. "I'm sorry, Gutierrez. I'll take care of the situation. You can call off your men."

"You okay with him, Tessa?" Enrique asked me.

"Yes."

Enrique tilted his head toward me, and his guys followed him out of the bar.

Lux and the other Siege security guards resumed their positions in the club.

"What the hell, Rogan? You roughing up the VIPs now? Why? Because of her?" Dallas angled his head toward me.

Rogan kept his lips pressed tightly together.

"Never seen you lose it before. Don't cause trouble in my club. I expect more from my top man."

"I'm sorry, sir. Won't happen again."

"Make sure of it."

Rogan nodded, and Dallas marched to the back stairs that led to his office.

"What was all that about?" I asked him.

"Didn't like you having drinks with that guy. Dancing with him like you knew him."

"I do know him. I hosted a party for him my first night here. You told me to get myself a VIP, and when I spend a few minutes talking to one, you accost him in the bar."

"He made the first move. I just restrained him."

"Whatever. This is all looking very suspicious. Why did Dallas say you're his top man? Why did all those men look ready to kill? Why does Cyan have a body—"

He yanked me from the bar stool and marched to the dance floor with me shuffling behind him in my heels.

He stopped in the middle and put his hands on his hips.

"So now you wanna dance with me?"

"I don't dance."

I huffed out a breath. This man was unbelievable.

"You're just gonna stand guard?"

The crowd moved around us. How incredibly stupid? What kind of giant man stands stock-still in a gyrating crowd?

He continued to scan the room for nonexistent threats.

"Great. I have a dance partner who doesn't dance and thinks I'm a stupid girl." I crossed my arms over my chest which pushed my breasts together, drawing his gaze to them again.

"You're not a stupid girl. Every inch of you is dangerous woman."

"Then dance with me, you idiot."

He pressed his lips together. "Fine."

I grunted as the force of his arms hoisting me up against him knocked the air from my lungs and caused my back to arch. I steadied myself with my hands on his massive shoulders. He inserted one thigh between my legs and rocked his hips.

I leaned back to look up at him. "You can dance?"

"Saying I don't dance doesn't mean I can't."

A sensuous J Lo song came on, and the music swelled inside me. All the fear and shock of the night disappeared in the erotic beat. Rogan rolled his hips, and our bodies locked in an entrancing rhythm.

I ground my sex down on his thigh, and the jewels on my dress crunched under his fingers around my waist. I tossed my head back and flung my arms wide, giving Rogan all my weight, letting his powerful arms support me. He could probably see the crotch of my undies, but I didn't care. For the first time in my life, I could truly dance uninhibited.

When he lifted my torso upright, I popped up with a smile and a huge exhale. The ringlets in my hair bounced around my shoulders.

Rogan stared at my lips. "Jesus."

His eyes softened, and the corners of his mouth turned up. His hands moved lower, and his fingertips explored the creases of my cheeks under the short hem of my dress.

"Mmm." His sultry rumble ignited an electrical fire between us. Transformers exploded in loud bursts of light.

He raised his thigh and forced me to smash down harder on his beefy leg. I wrapped my arms around his neck. If he didn't let me down, he'd find a wet spot on his pants.

His hands under my ass cheeks lifted me higher until our faces were inches apart. One hand slid up to my lower spine, taking the hem of my dress with it. The palm of his other hand covered my thong. The length of his rock hard erection ground into my abdomen, pulling a rumbling groan from deep in his chest.

Kiss me.

I didn't dare to say it aloud again, but he must have read it in my eyes. He pressed his soft lips to my neck, and I arched my head back, offering him access to all of it. His teeth scraped my skin, sending bolts of lightning striking to my core.

Rogan hissed as he lowered me to the floor. His hands on my shoulders turned me so his hips swung against my back. His rigid shaft pressed between the cheeks of my ass. My body froze.

No, no, no. Not there, please.

I wrenched out of his hold and spun to face him. Did he notice my evasive maneuver?

His fists clenched and his nostrils flared. Of course he'd noticed, and he thought I was teasing him. I most definitely wasn't teasing. If he wanted to take me here on the dance floor, I would have let him and enjoyed every second of it. But my body flinched by reflex when he approached me from behind. I opened my mouth to explain, but shut it again, because I wasn't sure exactly why I panicked. Even if I knew what to say, he wouldn't hear me anyway with the music blaring so loud.