Page 6 of Going Rogue (Tactical Operations & Protection (TOP))

Rogue

“I’m not in the mood for jokes.” Even though Rogue wanted those words to be filled with exasperation, they came out hesitant. Because something in Crane’s tone had told her he wasn’t kidding.

They were running out of gas.

He didn’t respond, but the rigid set of his jaw meant they were in trouble.

Swallowing down the dread rushing up her throat, she asked in a voice she hardly recognized, “How long?”

“At this rate?” His laugh lacked any humor. “Maybe we’ll get a couple more miles.”

Not good .

They hadn’t gone nearly far enough away from the militants’ camp to be comfortable.

The fear she’d successfully battled all day threatened to overwhelm her when a fresh tide swamped her.

Fighting against its tug, she clenched her hands into fists on her lap.

“I won’t go back there.” Her quiet statement was both a promise and a plea.

Crane surprised her by reaching over to clasp her hand. “You won’t.”

Tingles of warmth radiated up her arm as she stared down at his large palm engulfing hers. He couldn’t promise her that, but his voice had sounded so sure the words soothed some of the panic clawing at her.

In the light of the cab, she could see the skin around her wrists no longer looked so irritated.

She preferred not to have them bound in rope again.

When he squeezed her hand, the sweet gesture tempted her to turn her palm up and grasp his .

. . but she didn’t. Partly because she feared what it would mean and partly because they still had to work together.

When he didn’t remove his hand, she looked up to find him watching her. An emotion swirled in his caramel eyes, which she didn’t know how to interpret. Determination fired his gaze, but something else burned along with it—something softer, warmer.

Warm enough to make her insides jumpy.

Rogue jerked her head and her hand away. “What’s our Plan B now?” The question came out breathy, making her frown. Since when did her lungs stop functioning correctly?

When he answered her, the rasp in Crane’s voice sounded more pronounced. “Keep heading north. On foot.”

This meant, in addition to worrying about the militants catching up with them, they’d also have to worry about poisonous snakes and scorpions as they walked across the desert. Super.

And only if they didn’t run out of water first. They’d refilled the reservoir in Crane’s vest before they’d left the militants’ compound, but they hadn’t expected to need it to last for days.

An overwhelming desire to scream at the top of her lungs pierced her chest, but they didn’t have time for her to freak out. She had to remember the important things—she’d made it off the compound, and she wasn’t alone.

Before she had time to think about it, she blurted, “Thank you for coming back for me.” She didn’t know where she’d be if he hadn’t, and she’d never properly thanked him.

As if her statement had been a spark, the tension in the Humvee skyrocketed. She felt his eyes on her but refused to meet his gaze. “Rogue . . .”

When she didn’t look at him, he sighed. “I’ll always come back for you.”

The soft statement punched through her defenses with the ease of an armor-piercing round. Off-kilter, her gaze jerked to his. But then the vehicle slowed to a halt, cutting off the charged moment.

“Fuck!” Crane slammed his hands on the wheel, making her jump.

Instinct had her reach for his arm, but then she thought better of it. Touching him wouldn’t help her keep her distance, especially when electric heat seemed to rush through her body whenever they did. Softly, she said, “Time for a hike.”

When Crane turned his head, the tortured expression on his face made her gasp out a breath. He shifted toward her. In the space of a blink, he had her head in his big hands, one of them tangling in the hair at the base of her neck. Then he lowered his forehead to hers.

She wasn’t sure what happened, but his breathing was erratic, so she lifted a hand to his chest. “Are you okay?” she whispered. Under her fingers, his heart pounded like a drum tattoo.

His eyes were shut, and she tried desperately not to focus on how good his hands felt holding her. With his lips so close, the desire to kiss him made her own breathing shallow as she wondered what a real one with him would be like.

In response to her question, he gave a slight shake of his head but didn’t release her. Not until his breathing slowed to its normal rhythm.

When he leaned back, his eyes held her still as his palms moved to cup her face. One thumb gently trailed across her cheek to her mouth. Then he ran the pad of his finger along her bottom lip.

Holy hell.

A bullet shot straight to her core and melted into liquid heat. She’d never wanted to be kissed so badly. Her hand on his chest squeezed the thin, wicking material of his shirt into a ball as her gaze fell to his mouth.

When Crane leaned in for the kiss this time, she didn’t stop him. His mouth on hers pressed as gently as before, but she wanted more.

She must’ve made some sound in her throat because Crane’s tongue traced the seam of her lips and then dipped inside.

He tasted like salt, dust, and something all male.

His musky flavor lit up her tastebuds, and her body responded in a way it never had before.

Every cell came alive, vibrating with an intensity she didn’t understand.

Then, her pulse began to throb at the apex of her thighs.

She’d never been so turned on by a kiss.

Not that she had a wealth of experience, but this was usually the point where she’d get disappointed and pull away.

Next, the excuses came. She happened to be busy studying, working, or walking her cat, even though she’d never owned a cat.

All so she didn’t have to go on another date and face the possibility of liking someone enough for them to hurt her.

But with Crane, she didn’t want to pull away. She felt no disappointment with his lips moving against hers, only desire and a craving she didn’t know how to satiate.

His tongue caressed hers while the warmth of his hands sent shivers down her neck.

The pulsing in her core matched the beat of her heart until she became desperate to feel more of him.

She shifted, tugging at his arms with the need to have his hands on her body, but at her movement, Crane broke the kiss.

“Baby, I don’t want to hurt you.” His palms still gripped her head as his thumb grazed her swollen lip.

The murmured words shocked her back to reality.

What am I doing?

Even if he’d only meant to spare her physical pain because of a busted lip, her brain raced toward the future and the possibility he could rip her heart out.

Because Crane had the ability to make her fall—hard.

Fear of the eventuality had her slamming the poor, neglected organ back into its cage as she untangled herself from him. “We should get moving, anyway.”

Without waiting for a response, she hopped out of the Humvee into the complete blackness of the night. At that moment, she thought it felt as cold and bleak as her life.

◆◆◆

Crane

Crane blinked and stared down at his hands, somehow surprised they weren’t still holding Rogue.

What the fuck just happened?

The passenger-side door slammed, and his body jerked against the finality of the noise. It proved as effective as a slap. Wincing at the situation, he climbed from the Humvee and leaned against it.

How could she be so unaffected when she’d altered his life with one kiss?

In silence, he stared at the sky and begged the stars for an answer. With no light pollution, they cluttered the dark expanse above his head. If he were anything other than practical, he’d have made a wish.

But Crane knew wishes only came true if you made them.

Though right now, he wished he could read Rogue’s thoughts.

His own still scrambled to make sense of their connection.

Grumbling about it, he crossed his arms over his chest. It had been a long time since he’d had feelings for a woman, but even the love he’d shared with his high school sweetheart hadn’t felt like this.

Like he would burn the world down if it meant she’d be safe.

A ripple of shock had him sinking further onto the Humvee. He’d had relationships since high school, but he’d always been able to set them aside when it was time to go to work.

Not with Rogue, she never left his thoughts.

After she’d been taken, it had all come to a head for him. A part of him had known, even if he hadn’t been ready to acknowledge it.

He was a goner.

One kiss from Rogue and his world had spun off its axis; the ground felt unsteady under his feet, and he didn’t trust his balance. Yet she’d turned it off as easy as flipping a switch.

Did I imagine the way she responded?

Her sudden coldness had him questioning everything. His mind replayed the noises she’d been making and the way she’d kissed him back . . . No way. That shit had been real.

Confused more than angry, he pushed off the Humvee and called her name, “Rogue?”

“Over here.”

He flicked on his flashlight and followed the sound of her voice. Finding her bent over with her ass in the air, he almost wept. His dick had gone soft but now stood to attention again. Shifting uncomfortably, he growled, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to look at the fuel tank, but I can’t see a damn thing.” Pulling her head from under the vehicle, she demanded, “Give me your light.”

He frowned down at her but handed it over. As soon as it landed in her palm, she ducked back under the Humvee. He had to turn away from the temptation to grab her curves, but he heard ominous muttering emitting from her lips before she sighed loudly and stood up.

“The tank is completely empty.” Handing him back the flashlight, she added, “I found a hole. Could’ve been there awhile or could’ve been from a ricochet.”

Crane only nodded, unsure why she seemed so interested in figuring this out. The fact remained. They had no choice but to continue on foot . . . across the damn desert.