I open the door and he’s leaning against the frame, arms crossed, head tilted. Reading me. Behind the easygoing posture, his eyes are sharp. And sexy.
“Heard you and Sting had a moment,” he says.
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
“Armen’s word, not mine. I’d have called it a bloodbath but I wasn’t there.” He pauses. “Can I come in?”
I step back. He walks in, closes the door behind him, and sits on the edge of my bed like he belongs there, which he kind of does.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Everyone keeps asking me that today.”
“That’s because you look like shit.”
I almost laugh. “Thanks, Rogue. Really helpful.”
“I’m not here to be helpful. I’m here to make sure you’re not sitting in this room alone hating us.”
“Just one of you.”
“Fair.” He reaches out, takes my hand, and pulls me toward the bed until I’m standing between his knees. His hands settle on my hips, light, not demanding, but just there. “For what it’s worth Vi, he’s wrecked. I’ve never seen him like this. He’s in the Skylight Room staring at the wall like it owes him money.”
“Good.”
“Mean.”
“He earned it.”
Rogue looks up at me and his thumbs trace circles on my hipbones through my shirt. “Yeah,” he says. “He did. But he’s trying, Vi. In his own fucked-up way, he’s trying. That man doesn’t know how to do feelings. It’s not an excuse. It’s just the truth.”
“I know.”
“So don’t give up on him. On us. Okay?”
The way he says “us” makes me hurt. Not Sting. Not me and Sting.Us. The four of us. Like it’s one thing, one unit. One relationship with four people in it, and if one part breaks, the whole thing feels it.
“I’m not giving up,” I say. “I’m just… pissed. There’s a difference.”
“Big difference.” He grins, pulls me closer, and I go. End up in his lap, straddling him, his hands sliding up under my shirt to the bare skin of my waist. His palms are warm and his grip is sure. “There she is,” he murmurs. “My girl.”
I begin to melt in spite of myself. “Don’t start something we can’t finish. Mara could walk in any second.”
“Who says we can’t finish. And as for Mara, I’ll just tell her to hit the road.” His mouth finds my neck, teeth grazing the spot below my ear that makes me lose track of any objections I mightcome up with, not that I have any. His hands move up my ribs, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. “I can be fast when I need to be.”
“You’re never fast.”
“Not true. I’m extremely fast when properly motivated.” His hand cups my breast and squeezes. His hips buck underneath me, pressing up, and he’s already hard. “See? Motivated.”
I laugh. Actually laugh. The first real one since this morning. His mouth is on my collarbone now, his other hand sliding down the back of my jeans, gripping my ass, pulling me tighter against him. I’m grinding into him before I make a conscious decision to.
“Rogue.”
“Yeah?”
“We don’t have time.”
“We have a little time.” His hand slides around from my ass to the front of my jeans, pops the button, and slips inside. His fingers find me and I’m already wet because apparently, my body doesn’t care that I spent this morning in an emotional free fall. His fingers know exactly what to do and where to do it. “There,” he says against my neck. “Just let me do this. You need it.”
