Page 69 of Rogue

“Sweetheart, we haven’t even gotten started.” He reaches out, grabbing me by the arms and twirling me around. The wind is knocked out of me as he spins me around and slams me into the mirror.

With one hand, he pins my wrists overhead to the mirror. I feel his legs between my thighs, spreading me open. The tip of his cock rubs against my folds, then all holy hell breaks out.

Fast and furious, he thrusts into me. Hard. Deep. Aggressive. Over and over, while I watch him grit his teeth, grunt, and close his eyes, blocking me out from what’s going on inside his head.

There’s nothing but my panting and his occasional grunt. The cold glass pressing against my girls, the ache building in my core, and him, taking me like he promised. Fucking me like a madman. Driving me insane with lust.

And I take it. I take all of him.

“Oh. Oh,” I gasp as the relentless pace he’s set begins to stir up an orgasm from somewhere deep inside me. A slow-building one, soon to register on whatever is Paris’s equivalent of the Richter scale.

But Jaxson beats me to it. With the next thrust, he shoves into me so hard I come up on my toes. Then he pins me in place, rooting me from deep inside my body, and then with a low, snarled “fuck me,” comes.

I thrust my hips backward, as my climax mounts. Aching for his thrust, his taking me up that steep cliff until I pass over to the other side.

Then he withdraws, leaving me freaking hanging from the rafters.

“What the hell?”

“I’ll give you a five-minute start.” He slaps me on the ass. “Then it’s back to business.”

“You asshole,” I say between clenched teeth. The ache between my thighs is unbearable. If he hadn’t given me a five-minute head start, I’d be finishing off what he initiated. Show him how I’ve no problem getting off without him.

Lesson learned.

I kick aside my panties and gather up my boho dress, ripping the frill from the hem to use it to secure the destroyed material in place.

Jaxson moves beside me as he pulls his pants back on. His T-shirt fits snugly around his chest, unwrinkled despite being wedged between the two of us. But I ignore him, deep in contemplation about whether or not to stick around to kick his ass. Or at least die trying.

I quickly gather my things and toss them into my suitcase. For a second I contemplate my satchel and the contents inside it—namely the gun. Consider shooting him in the leg and slowing the chase. But he’s giving me a chance, which is a dumb-ass mistake on his part, so who am I to complain? Besides, he didn’t hurt me, not physically at least.

“Thanks for the memories,” he says, his tone laced with sarcasm and disgust.

Okay, a bullet to his thigh is back at the top of my list.

This is what Jaxson does. Press people’s buttons and throw them off-kilter. Titillate then torment. Yeah, the ache between my thighs is proof of this. I should have known better.

Grabbing my luggage, I head to the door. Two minutes to go until the man of my dreams turns into my worst nightmare.

No, I remind myself. I can live with his anger, his hatred. Live knowing he’ll come after me to finish a job. But his death—by my hands or otherwise—I’m never going to survive.

18

Shelby

“Don’t we get a folder?” Francis pipes up.

It’s Monday morning, just another unpredictable day at the Ranch. Hayden has gathered us into his library and, without comment, handed Diego, Declan, and Jaxson each a file, a sturdy manila folder approximately three inches thick.

I know this because after a glimpse of a furious Jaxson, I resorted to staring at those files. As if whatever is listed inside of them will ease the tension in the room and make my decision about accepting a position at TORC all the more easier to get used to.

Jaxson warned me to keep away.

As if I could.

I’m here for the money—no ifs, ands, or buts about it. How else am I to come up with thousands of dollars in a short period of time? Other than work for the Pricks—just the mere thought makes my blood boil. Although I never expected Jaxson to flash me a wink and a friendly welcome-back-to-the-Ranch wave, I had a glimmer of hope he’d be happy to see me. Because truth be told, part of the reason I’m signing on at TORC is to see how this thing between us develops.

I love him.