Page 19 of Rogue
Chapter Ten
Noah
McKenzie’s going to find someone else to fuck her? Like hell she is.
I hesitate for a nanosecond, watching her shapely little ass in the body-hugging denim shorts she’s wearing, before following her. God knows I’ve tried to stay away from her, even though I want her more than I’ve ever wanted a woman before. But now she’s left me no choice.
I catch up with her just outside the bar, grabbing her by the shoulder. “You are not going to fuck that Latin asshole.” It’s not a question, a request, or an accusation. It’s simply a statement of fact.
She spins around, her blue eyes stormy. “Oh really? Who’s going to stop me?”
“I am.” I cross my arms across my chest, giving her my most intimidating stare, but she just tilts her chin up defiantly.
“Why? You obviously don’t want me. What do you care if someone else does?” Her eyes are shimmering with tears, and I feel like I’ve been sucker punched. Since putting her sunscreen on yesterday, I’ve done nothing but think of her silky skin and the way she wriggled so deliciously when I trailed my fingers over her body. I had wanted to take her right then and there, burying my cock in her sweet heat on the deck of the boat in broad daylight. But I didn’t. Instead, I’d avoided her, ignored her, tried to put some distance between us, but dammit if it just hasn’t made me want to touch her again even more. I’ve been living with blue balls trying to avoid hurting her, but somehow, I’m still the prick who put that bruised look in her eyes.
“God, McKenzie, of course I want you. I’ve wanted you since the second you walked into the club at the Wynn.”
It’s true, and spending the last twenty-four hours in close quarters with her prancing around in that scrap of fabric that passes for a bikini has done nothing to quench my desire for her. Although if I’m being honest, she turns me on even when she’s drawing in that sketchbook of hers while wearing shorts and a T-shirt, thoughtfully biting her bottom lip with intense concentration, or belting out a duet with that soft, sultry voice of hers. She’s beautiful and intelligent and courageous, and she makes me smile more than anyone I’ve met before.
“I still want you,” I confess.
“Then why do you keep pushing me away?”
I rake my fingers through my hair. This woman is killing me. I’m trying, for once in my sorry excuse for a life, to do the right thing—to think with something other than my dick—but she’s making it damn near impossible.
She’s nothing but a job—the mark I’m supposed to get close to so she can lead me to where her brother stashed the guns. I shouldn’t be thinking of her as a person, much less as a woman I’m seriously considering fucking. But she’s making that awfully hard, especially since she’s intent on finding someone else to do it if I don’t. I give it one last shot.
“Because I’m no good for you.”
She pushes me away. “Stop saying that.”
“It’s true. I live a different kind of life. I have a dangerous job, and I’m gone most of the time. I can’t get attached, and I can’t be tied down. Which means it would just be sex. It wouldn’t mean anything. And you’re not that kind of girl.”
No, she’s the kind of girl who could become addictive. The kind of girl you can’t get enough of, the kind who you want to hold in your arms as you fall asleep and wake up next to in the middle of the night, touching and caressing and teasing until, still half asleep, she acquiesces with soft, sweet moans. She’s the kind of girl who looks like a lazy Sunday afternoon, who’ll steal your T-shirt, and drive you mad, yet still hold up her end of an intelligent conversation over coffee the next morning.
But I gave up the right to have that kind of girl years ago.
She meets my gaze steadily. “I can be that kind of girl. I’m not looking for any kind of commitment or anything beyond one night. I…” She looks down, twisting her fingers nervously. “The thing is, I need someone to help me with…um…some things on Liam’s list. Some intimate things.” She blushes, and my cock hardens. She’s an intoxicating combination of feistiness coupled with shyness. “I thought maybe it could be you.” Her voice hardens with determination. “But if not, I’m going to find someone else.”
I hesitate. What she wants, what she’s asking for, is dangerous. More dangerous than she can imagine. She has no idea who I really am and what I want from her. But I can’t stand the thought of another man touching her, tasting her, making her come. And I have no doubt that if I say no, she’ll go back into the bar and find that South American prick to help her. I’ve never seen anyone more committed to something than McKenzie is to that goddamned bucket list. Sex is nothing compared to jumping off a waterfall or travelling to the other side of the world and getting on a boat with a virtual stranger.
Fuck it. I tell myself it’s for the job, to keep her close, but it’s a lie. I want her, even if it’s just for tonight. It can’t be more than that. But I have wanted McKenzie Prescott since the moment I felt that visceral attraction, that primordial connection when our eyes met at the bar in Vegas. God knows I’ve tried my damnedest to keep her at a distance. Not because I have scruples. I gave up every ounce of morality I had left when I walked away from the SEALS four years ago. But because I know McKenzie is the girl I could give my heart to. And that terrifies me.
However, all bets are off now. She’s forced my hand. Twice now I’ve touched her and forced myself to stop, but there’s no turning back this time. The first time, I let my desire for her take precedence over my good sense in an exceedingly rare slip of self-control. The second time was meant to warn her away. But now, she’s left me no other option.
“If anyone’s going to make love to you, it’s going to be me,” I growl. I take her face in my hands, threading my fingers through her hair as I look into her eyes. “You’d better be damn sure you know what you’re asking for, sweetheart, because once you give yourself to me, there’s no turning back.”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
Seconds tick by, turning into minutes, as I give her one last chance to change her mind. To save herself. To save me. But she just looks up at me with those big blue eyes, and I know that she and I are as inevitable as the tide, the elemental pull that draws me to her just as strong.
“Come on, then.” I grab her hand, and she falls into step next to me.
“Back to the boat?”
I nod.
“But it’s dark. Is that even safe since we’ve been drinking?”
