CHAPTER FOUR

ROGAN

IT’S EVENING NOW, AND I’M wondering why I backed off her in the kitchen earlier. It wasn’t what I wanted to do. I wanted to take her, right there, right then. Truth is, I wanted to mark her. Claim her. Keep her.

But it wasn’t right. She’s got demons she’s running from, and I’m not a man who takes advantage of someone. She might need me, but she doesn’t need me pawing at her like a beast until she trusts me.

She looks so small in my robe right now, curled into the corner of the couch and reading. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s fragile. But she’s got a spine of steel.

I recognize the haunted look in her eyes. She’s not the spoiled brat she shows the rest of the world. Well, she’s definitely a brat, but spoiled I’m not so sure of.

She’s got rich girl background, but her life is harder than she lets on.

Or it used to be. Until she met me.

Now she’s not alone. I let that sink in. At first, it feels heavy, and then suddenly light and warm. The second I let go of the resistance to wanting her, I feel free. There’s no reason to fight it. It can’t be stopped.

New feelings inside me settle bone deep, and things clear up the way the sun eats the fog.

She’s mine. Mine to protect. Mine to take care of. And it maybe seems too soon, but I think she’s mine to love.

I never thought I’d feel this way. I’ve seen other guys fall. I’ve read books and seen movies, but I never believed it was something I was capable of. Life with my mom had never been easy, but after she abandoned me altogether, I’d pretty much put my heart in deep freeze.

Until my annoying princess drove her Porsche Cayman GTS into a ditch. Shame, too. It was a really nice car.

Damn. It sure as hell doesn’t make any sense. She’s ten years younger than me. College educated. Used to guys in sports cars with trust funds. And I want to throttle her nearly as often as I want to kiss her.

I didn’t even know her before yesterday. I should try to rationalize this away. Explain it. Make sense of it.

It’s not logical, I guess. It’s love.

I get up and boil some water for tea. The storm outside is getting worse. That usually means I’ll get a call tonight. I already don’t want to leave her. What if she needs me? What if she takes off?

“Whatcha doing in there?” She’s sitting up on her knees looking over at me from the back of the couch. Someday, I’m going to bend her over that couch. Someday when she trusts me. When she knows me. When she loves me back.

“Making you tea. I’m hoping it will knock you out so you don’t take off in the middle of the night if I get a roadside assistance call.”

“You make tea?” She wrinkles her brow like she’s trying to figure out an algebra problem in her head. “You going to roofie it?”

“The thought crossed my mind.” I pull a mug down. “I’d rather just trust you.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

That’s strange. I tilt my head. “Why don’t you want me to trust you?”

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

She’s lost too much. It’s painted all over her face. Whatever forced her “north” is going to answer to me someday. “You aren’t going to disappoint me.”

She shrugs and turns back around, opening her book and leaving me with more questions than insight again. I wish I understood her better. I wish she’d let me in. But as a well-known recluse, I understand her barriers.

I’m just handing her the tea when the pager goes off.

“You have a beeper? That’s very…retro.”

“It’s issued by the roadside assistance company.” I make the call, get the details, and give my guest the once-over. “Lines are down all over the place. I don’t have to explain to you how dangerous it would be for you to take off on your own tonight, do I?”

Layna raises one eyebrow at me, and it’s sexy as hell. “I don’t really want to wander around the woods at night during a storm. I left my hiking boots in the trunk of the Porsche.”

“Do you even own hiking boots?”

“No, not really.”

“I don’t want you to go, Layna. It’s dangerous out there. You don’t know the terrain, and bad things could happen to you before I even knew you were gone.” She opens her mouth to argue, but I interrupt her interruption. “I can’t keep you here if you don’t want to stay. I want you to want to stay.” I point to the hooks near the door where all my keys are hanging. “If you run, don’t go on foot. Steal my car. It’s in the left bay of the garage outside. Keys are on the wall and marked.”

Her eyes get real big. “You are giving me the keys to my escape?”

“No, I’m showing you where they are and hoping you don’t use them. I’m hoping you’ll be passed out and snoring when I get back, safe in bed and drooling on my pillow. But if you need to endanger yourself, I’d rather have you endangered in a vehicle than on foot.”

“I kinda thought you would just tie me up or something.”

“You wish.”

She blushes, and I want to pull open my robe and see how low that blush goes. Instead, I kiss her forehead. “Stay.”

Hours later, wet, tired, and grumpy, I open the cabin door and find Layna sound asleep on my couch. I exhale the breath I’d been holding since I left her.

She’s still safe.

I’m drawn to her like she’s reeling me in on her fishing line. I lean down and press another kiss to her forehead.

As I pull back, she blinks her eyes open. She frowns for a second as she comes to, then she throws her arms around my neck. “You’re home.”

She’s sleep-warmed and perfect, so soft and lovely. And then she’s kissing me.

I don’t think either of us expected it.

Her lips are amazing. I try just sipping at her sweetness, but I want more. I need her softness, so I clutch her hard and she swings into me like we’ve been kissing for years instead of barely knowing each other. She angles her head, and I deepen the kiss. I want in her mouth, in her body.

She pulls back, confused I think. Maybe she was sleep-kissing, but I don’t think so.

“You’re soaking wet,” she says. She’s not accusing me of accosting her in her sleep. That’s a good sign.

“Yeah. Raining. Outside.” This girl has made complete sentences a challenge.

She bites her lip which I find adorable. I’m not usually a guy who uses the word adorable. “I should be ashamed of myself. I totally just attacked you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. You want to do it again?”

She nods and tightens her hold on me as she dives back in for another kiss. She’s petite enough that, with little effort, I pick her up and settle us back onto the couch with her on my lap.

I’m trying to keep this light. Keep us in this sweet spot to savor, but with each pass, my hands grasp her tighter, my mouth pushes harder. I’m feeling my heartbeat in my cock when she opens her mouth and moans as my tongue accepts her invitation inside.

Her fingers tunnel through my hair, and she rocks her hips, grinding us together. The robe is gaping in the front, and I catch glimpses of the perfect curve of her tits and I’m lost. I can’t stop my hand as it reaches in to palm one breast while my other grasps the back of her neck and holds her still so I can fucking plunder her mouth.

Her skin is so smooth beneath my callused hand. I feel like a hulking beast let loose in a store of fine, expensive china. I don’t want to hurt her or scare her. I’m sure her college boys don’t maul her so roughly, but when I pinch her nipple she throws her head back and lets out the hottest sound I’ve ever heard.

With her neck arched that way, I take advantage and kiss my way down. She’s beautiful in her abandon. I don’t deserve this stolen moment, but I take it. I ravish her unblemished skin, marking it red with my beard and my teeth.

“Oh my God,” she cries.

As much as I love her neck, I want back in her mouth. I suck her tongue, and then I thrust mine into her like I’m fucking her.

Like I’m going to fuck her.

She’s like holding fire, her flames hot and bright. Her passion consumes me, and I burn with a lust I’ve never felt before.

I push the robe off her shoulder, exposing her breasts to me. “You’re beautiful.” I pull back enough to get her in a better position to suck that sweet tit in my mouth.

That’s when I notice the bruises.