FIVE
ROGUE
I knew I shouldn't be here. Shouldn't be watching her. But I couldn't stay away.
For three days, I threw myself into club business, trying to forget about Willow. The strike against the Hawks went off without a hitch, leaving their operations crippled and sending a clear message about what happens when you fuck with the Saints.
But even in the midst of the chaos and violence, thoughts of Willow kept creeping in. Her soft smile, her gentle touch, the way she looked at me like I was something precious instead of the dangerous man I know myself to be.
So tonight, instead of celebrating our victory with my brothers, I parked a little away from her dorm, debating whether or not I should go in and see her, but my thoughts left me when I saw her leave with a friend. I couldn’t hold back. I had to follow her. I needed to see her. Then I found myself parked across from the Sigma Chi house, watching as Willow entered the house with her friend. Even from a distance, I could see the tension in her shoulders, the forced smile on her face. She didn't want to be there.
Part of me wanted to go to her, to sweep her away from that scene. But I held back, reminding myself of all the reasons why that was a bad idea. I'm no good for her. My world would destroy someone as pure and innocent as Willow.
But then I saw that preppy college boy talking to her, touching her arm, leaning in close. Something snapped inside me. Before I knew it, I was off my bike, ready to storm across the street and claim what was mine.
I caught myself at the last moment, forcing myself to stay put. I had no right to be jealous, no claim on Willow. I walked away, left her hanging. If she wanted to move on with some clean-cut frat boy, that was her choice.
But then Willow came outside alone, and our eyes met across the street. And all my resolve crumbled.
Now, as we ride through the streets on my bike, Willow's arms wrapped tightly around my waist, I know I'm in too deep. There's no walking away from her now, no matter how much safer it would be for both of us.
We pull up outside my apartment, and I help Willow off the bike. Her cheeks are flushed from the ride, hair tousled by the wind. She's never looked more beautiful.
"Come on," I say gruffly, taking her hand and leading her inside.
As soon as the door closes behind us, I have her pressed against it, my lips crashing down on hers. Willow responds immediately, her arms winding around my neck as she kisses me back with equal fervor.
I lift her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist. Without breaking the kiss, I carry her to the bedroom, laying her gently on the bed.
"Rogue," she gasps as I trail kisses down her neck. "Please..."
As I trail kisses down Willow's neck, her soft gasps and pleas ignite a fire within me. My hands roam her body hungrily, reacquainting myself with every curve and dip. It's only been a few days, but it feels like an eternity since I last touched her.
"God, I've missed you," I growl against her skin, nipping gently at her collarbone.
Willow arches into me, her fingers tangling in my hair. "I've missed you too," she breathes. "So much."
I pull back slightly, drinking in the sight of her. Her hair is splayed out on the pillow, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from our kisses. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"You're sure about this?" I ask, needing to hear her say it. "About us?"
Willow reaches up, cupping my face in her hands. "I'm sure," she says firmly. "I want this. I want you, Rogue."
Her words break the last of my restraint. I claim her lips again in a searing kiss as my hands work to remove her clothes. Willow's fingers fumble with the buttons of my shirt, and I help her, shrugging it off impatiently.
When we're both finally naked, I take a moment to worship her body with my hands and mouth. I trail kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, taking one perfect breast in my mouth as my hand teases the other. Willow writhes beneath me, soft moans escaping her lips.
"Rogue, please," she whimpers. "I need you."
I growl at her words, positioning myself at her entrance. As I push into her slowly, we both gasp at the sensation. She's so tight, so perfect around me. I have to pause for a moment, overwhelmed by the feeling of being inside her again.
"You okay?" I ask, searching her face for any sign of discomfort.
Willow nods, her eyes heavy with desire. "Yes," she breathes. "Please, don't stop."
I start to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm. Willow matches me thrust for thrust, her hips rising to meet mine. The room fills with the sounds of our mingled moans and gasps.
As I feel her start to tighten around me, I pick up the pace, driving into her harder and faster. Willow cries out, her nails digging into my back.
"That's it, Little Flower," I growl. "Come for me."
With a final cry of my name, Willow shatters beneath me. The sight of her in ecstasy, combined with the feeling of her inner walls clenching around me, pushes me over the edge. I bury my face in her neck as I follow her into bliss, her name a reverent whisper on my lips.
As we come down from our high, I carefully pull out of her before gathering her in my arms. Willow curls into me, her head resting on my chest. For a long moment, we just lie there in contented silence.
"I meant what I said before," Willow says softly, tracing patterns on my skin. "I want to be with you, Rogue. Whatever that means."
Her words fill me with a warmth I'm not used to, but also a deep sense of unease. She deserves so much better than what I can offer her. A life of secrecy, of constant danger... it's not fair to her.
"Willow," I start, my voice rough. "There's so much you don't know about me, about my life. It's not safe..."
She props herself up on an elbow, looking down at me with those big, innocent eyes. "Then tell me," she says simply. "Help me understand."
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. How do I even begin to explain? How do I tell this sweet, innocent girl that I'm part of an outlaw motorcycle club? That I've done things that would horrify her? That being with me puts a target on her back?
"It's complicated," I say finally. "My life... it's not something I can just walk away from. And it's dangerous, Willow. Being with me puts you at risk."
She's quiet for a moment, processing my words. Then she leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. "I trust you," she says. "And I'm not afraid."
Her trust in me is both beautiful and terrifying. I want to be worthy of it, but I know the reality of my world. The things I've done, the things I'll have to do... they'd shatter her image of me.
But looking into her eyes, feeling the warmth of her body against mine, I know I can't let her go.
I'm jolted awake by the shrill ringing of my phone. Willow stirs beside me, but doesn't wake as I carefully extricate myself from her embrace.
"Yeah?" I growl into the phone, my voice rough with sleep.
"Get your ass to the clubhouse. Now." Storm's voice is tense, brooking no argument.
"On my way," I reply, already moving to get dressed.
I glance at Willow's sleeping form, debating whether to wake her. In the end, I decide to let her sleep, scrawling a quick note explaining I had to leave for work.
The ride to the clubhouse clears my head, the cool morning air so different to the warmth of Willow’s body against mine in my bed. By the time I pull into the lot, I've pushed thoughts of her aside, focusing on whatever shitstorm is waiting for me.
The clubhouse is quiet when I enter, most of the brothers still passed out from last night's celebration. Storm is waiting for me in the chapel, a grim expression on his face.
"Sit," he orders as I enter. I comply, waiting for him to speak.
"I need a rundown on what's going on with this girl," Storm says without preamble. "How close are you?"
I take a deep breath, weighing my words carefully. "We've gotten... close," I admit. "She trusts me."
Storm nods, his expression unreadable. "Good. We need to know what she knows, what her connection to the Hawks is."
I clench my jaw, fighting back the urge to defend Willow. "I don't think she's involved, Prez. She's just a college student, studying to be a teacher. I don't think she even knows about her sister's connection to Lochlann."
"Maybe, maybe not," Storm says, his eyes narrowing. "But we can't take any chances. The Hawks are planning something big. We can feel it. We need every advantage we can get."
I nod, understanding the implied order. Keep getting close to Willow and find out what she knows, even if she doesn't realize she knows it.
"There's something else," Storm continues. "We've got intel that Lochlann's been asking questions about you specifically. Be on your guard."
Fucker. No doubt he’s still pissed about me beating his ass and shooting him in the knee. Is that what this is about, or does he know about Willow? The thought sends a chill down my spine. That monster isn’t getting anywhere fucking close to her.
"Understood," I say, my mind racing. "I'll keep digging; see what I can find out."
Storm dismisses me with a nod, and I head out to my bike. As I ride back to my apartment, my thoughts are a mess. How can I keep using Willow like this? But how can I not, when the safety of my brothers might be at stake?
I arrive back at my place to find Willow still asleep, my note untouched on the nightstand. For a moment, I just stand there, watching her peaceful face. She looks so innocent, so pure. The thought of dragging her into my world of violence and deceit makes me sick.
But I don't have a choice. Not if I want to keep her safe, keep my brothers safe.
I shed my cut and boots and slide back into bed beside her. Willow stirs, her eyes fluttering open.
"Rogue?" she mumbles sleepily. "Where'd you go?"
"Just had to take care of some work stuff," I tell her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. It's not exactly a lie, but guilt still gnaws at me.
Willow snuggles closer to me, her head resting on my chest. "Mmm, I'm glad you're back," she says, her voice still heavy with sleep.
I tighten my arms around her, breathing in her sweet scent. For a moment, I let myself imagine a different life. One where I'm just a normal guy who could give Willow the kind of life she deserves without constantly looking over my shoulder.
But that's not the life I have. And now, with Lochlann sniffing around, the danger is closer than ever.
"Willow," I say softly, knowing I need to start getting information. "Can I ask you something?"
She props herself up on an elbow, looking at me curiously. "Of course. What is it?"
I hesitate, trying to find the right words. "Your sister, Ivy... Are you two close?"
A flicker of confusion passes over Willow's face. "We used to be," she says slowly. "But lately... I don't know. She's been distant, secretive. Why do you ask?"
I shrug, trying to keep my tone casual. "Just curious. You mentioned her the other day, and I realized I don't know much about your family."
Willow's expression softens. "Well, there's not much to tell, really. My parents... they've always favored Ivy. She's the outgoing one, the artist. I'm just... me."
The pain in her voice makes me want to hunt down her parents and give them a piece of my mind. But I push that thought aside, focusing on the task at hand.
"What about Ivy's boyfriend?" I ask, remembering the intel about Lochlann. "Do you know him?"
Willow shakes her head. "Not really. She hasn't brought him around. I think his name is Lochlann, or something like that. Why all the questions about Ivy?"
I can see suspicion starting to form in her eyes, and I know I need to tread carefully. "Just trying to get to know you better," I say, leaning in to kiss her. "Every part.”
Willow melts into the kiss, her suspicion fading. As I deepen the kiss, sliding my hand up her thigh, I try to push away the guilt gnawing at me. I hate using her like this, manipulating her trust. But I need to know what she knows about Lochlann and the Hawks.
When we break apart, Willow's eyes are hazy with desire. "Mmm, I like this kind of getting to know each other," she murmurs.
I chuckle, trailing kisses down her neck. "Me too, Little Flower. But I do want to know more about you. About your life."
Willow sighs, contentedly, tilting her head to give me better access. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything," I say, nipping gently at her collarbone. "Your childhood, your family, your dreams—I want to know it all."
As my hands and mouth continue to explore her body, Willow starts to talk. She tells me about growing up in the shadow of her more outgoing sister, about her parents' constant disappointment in her quieter nature. She talks about her passion for teaching, her dreams of making a difference in children's lives.
And as she speaks, I listen intently, filing away every detail. Not just for the club's benefit, but because I genuinely want to know her, to understand the beautiful, complex woman in my arms.
"What about you?" Willow asks suddenly, her fingers tracing the tattoos on my chest. "You know so much about me now, but I still feel like I barely know you."
I tense slightly, caught off guard by her question. "What do you want to know?" I ask cautiously.
Willow props herself up on an elbow, her eyes searching mine. "Everything," she echoes my earlier words. "Where did you grow up? What's your family like? How did you end up... doing whatever it is you do?"
I take a deep breath, weighing how much to tell her. I can't give her the whole truth—it would put her in too much danger. But I can't keep lying to her either.
"I grew up with just my dad," I say finally. "He wasn’t always present, but he was great. I miss him now that he’s gone."
I trail off, realizing I’m getting close to talking about the club. Willow's eyes soften with sympathy, and she leans in to press a gentle kiss to my lips.
"Gone?" she prompts gently.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "He died a few years back," I say carefully. "The guys I—” I pause, trying to figure out the best way to put this. “Work with... they're my family now."
Willow nods, seeming to accept this. "And what exactly is it that you do? You mentioned security, but?—"
"It's complicated," I cut her off, perhaps more sharply than I intended. Seeing the hurt flash in her eyes, I soften my tone and take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "My work... it's not always legal, Willow. The less you know about it, the safer you are."
I see the conflict in her eyes—curiosity warring with trepidation. "Are you in active danger?" she asks hesitantly.
I nod slowly. "Not right now, but that could change. That's why I was hesitant to get involved with you at first. My world... it's not a safe place for someone like you."
Willow is quiet for a long moment, processing this. Then she reaches up, cupping my face in her hands. "I'm not afraid," she says softly. "I trust you, Rogue."
Her words both warm my heart and fill me with dread. She trusts me, and I'm betraying that trust every moment I'm with her under false pretenses.
I pull her close, burying my face in her hair to hide the conflict I'm sure is visible on my face. "You should be afraid," I murmur. "I'm not a good man, Willow."
She pulls back slightly, looking me in the eyes. "I don't believe that," she says firmly. "I've seen the way you look at me, felt the way you touch me. There's goodness in you, Rogue. I can feel it."
Her faith in me is like a knife to the gut. If she knew the things I've done, the blood on my hands... would she still look at me with those trusting eyes?
"You don't know everything about me," I say, my voice rough. "If you did?—"
Willow silences me with a kiss. "Then help me understand," she whispers against my lips. "Let me in, Rogue. All the way in."
For a moment, I'm tempted. To tell her everything—about the club, about the Hawks, about the danger we're all in. But I know I can't. It would put her in too much danger, and I can't bear the thought of anything happening to her because of me.
So instead, I kiss her deeply, pouring all my conflicted emotions into it. Willow responds eagerly, her body melting against mine. I push aside my guilt and doubts. For now, I'll lose myself in her, in the way she makes me feel. I'll worry about the consequences later.