Tough Enough (11 page)

When Rogan tilts his head to one side, deepening the kiss, I wind my arms around his neck and dive in with him, letting go with an abandon that I haven’t felt in years. I part my lips and he enters my mouth with one long lick and a groan that vibrates along my tongue.

With one big hand cupping the back of my head, he slides the other down my back to curl around my waist and hold me to him. I feel every sharp ridge and every hard plane of his body, pressing against mine from nipple to knee, and something inside me melts.

I ease my restless fingers into Rogan’s short, spiky hair. It’s soft and silky, yet prickly enough to tease my palms. When I run my tongue along the side of his, Rogan moves both hands up to cup my face, pulling his mouth away from mine and staring down into my eyes for long, toe-curling seconds.

“God, how you make me
want
,” he growls, tipping my chin up with his thumbs, holding me still for his delicious torture. “To taste,” he says, licking and sucking at my lips. “To feel.” His fingers thread into my hair, pushing it over my shoulders and moving it
away from my neck. I tip my head slightly to the left, exposing only the right side. He strokes the pads of his fingers down my throat, stopping at the edge of my shirt to dip them just inside. Chills radiate from his touch like flame, scorching the skin of my chest and making my breasts throb. “I want to know all your secrets. To strip you down. Lay you bare. Just for me.” His lips trail from the corner of my mouth, across my cheek to my ear. “Would you like that?” he whispers, his hot breath teasing the shell.

His words . . .
God!
They’re so tempting.
He’s
so tempting. I’d give anything to be able to just let go and be with him. No worries, no insecurities, just wet kisses and sweaty skin. But he has no idea what he’d be exposing, what he’d be baring if I let him strip me. Because if he did, he wouldn’t want me at all.

“You don’t want to do that,” I mumble, wishing I didn’t have to think or fear or
know.

“Darlin’, if you could see inside my head, you wouldn’t doubt it. You’d see. You’d see just how much I
do
want to do that.”

“Not everyone is Hollywood perfect.”

At that, Rogan stills. With his lips pressed to my pulse and his palm pressed to the swell of my breast, he stops for a second and then raises his head. “There’s no such thing as perfect. Everyone has flaws.”

I’m glad he can’t see the sad smile I offer. “Some worse than others.”

Rogan brings his hands back to my face, his thumbs drawing soothing arcs over my cheekbones. “Show me your worst. It won’t matter. I’ll want you anyway.”

Lies. He can’t possibly know that. Because he can’t possibly know
me.

Reality rushes in and the spell is broken. All too soon, I’m reminded that this was just one moment in time. Perfect yet fleeting,
which is all it can ever be for someone like me. In the harsh light of actuality, nothing has changed. Not from today or yesterday or two weeks ago. Rogan is still a star and I’m still a ruin.

I take a step back, lowering my face and pulling my hair back around to its customary place, hiding behind the thick wave like I’ve done for so long. “Well, I guess I’d better get going. I think you’ve got this scene mastered.”

Although he lets me go, Rogan is still too close for my peace of mind. When he speaks, I can smell his sweet breath, a mixture of wine and something that’s just Rogan. “I’ll let you go. For tonight. I think I could still use a little more help, though. I can’t screw it up again Monday. One more night oughta do it. Two at the most.” Even in the dark, I can see the white glint of his teeth between his spread lips.

Holy crap, that smile!
It starts back to work immediately, weakening my resolve.

“What if I have plans?”

“Do you?”

I hedge. I’m always hedging with him, it seems. “I’m not sure yet. But I’ll let you know.” It’s getting harder and harder to say no to him, so I stall until I can. Until I’ve been away from him long enough for my brain to clear. Until I can think past the fog of his closeness.

“Just give me a call. Or come by. I’ll be here. Waiting.”

My lips want to smile. My blood wants to sing. My heart wants to soar. But there, in the background, is dread. And sadness. That’s why I can’t let him see how I feel. No one else can know that, least of all Rogan.

I give him a nod and take another step back, hiding. I’m always hiding.

“Now, for the return ride on the Death Machine,” I say, hoping to put things on a more casual level.

Rogan laughs. “It’s better you think of it that way.”

“Why?” I ask. I’d rather talk than focus on the way it feels when he takes my hand to lead me inside, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Because you’d blush a thousand shades of red if you knew how
I
see it. With you on the back. Those legs of yours wrapped around my waist . . . I call it something else.”

Heat rushes to my core. His words, the sexy lilt to his voice, the picture that he paints . . . I can fill in the blanks. All too clearly.

“Maybe you should’ve picked me up in the minivan, then.”

“You don’t even want to know what I’ve thought of doing to you in that back of
that
thing.”

I feel my mouth twitch in amusement. “Is that all you think about?”

“No.” He stops to look down at me, his sparkling green eyes luring me in again. “I think about the way your eyes start to look haunted when you think no one is watching. I think about the way you try not to smile when someone
is
watching. I think about the way you lick the corner of your mouth when you concentrate and how you lose yourself in your work.”

“What?” Knowing that he watches me that closely makes me nervous, but it also makes me feel like laughing. And singing. And twirling.

“You think I don’t see you, don’t you? But I do. I see you. I could watch you and
see you
all day and never get tired of it.”

“You’d be bored in no time.” I laugh. It bubbles out before I can stop it. It warms me all the way to my toes to know that he pays such close attention to my mannerisms, to my habits. To
me.
“What else?”

“I think about the way you try to disappear. And how much I don’t want you to.”

As if giving credence to his words, I duck my chin and reach for
my hair, teasing the edges, drawing solace from its presence like a reassuring talisman.

Rogan’s sigh is so slight I almost don’t hear it. But I feel it, like the empty space in a dark room. You can’t
see
that it’s there, but you can somehow feel it. “Will you ever let me in?”

As though he knows what my response will be, Rogan shakes his head and pulls me forward again, tugging me through the glass doors into the living room, walking me silently back out to his motorcycle.

Rogan

I’ve got a rip-roaring case of blue balls. I took a shower after I dropped Katie off. Got all hot and soapy, thought about that lush little body of hers and how she pressed her tits to my chest when I kissed her. Thought I’d remove the poisons from the building, if you know what I mean. No dice. I get the feeling only one thing’s gonna take care of my . . . problem. And I’m far from cracking that nut.

Shit.

I hit the pulse button on the blender, gritting my teeth as if
I’m
actually pulverizing the fruits, vegetables and whey. When the mixture is nothing more than a foul-looking goop, I pour it into a glass and start chugging.

“Did you save any for me, asshole?”

Kurt.

I’m not in the mood for his attitude this morning.

“There’s a little left,” I reply mildly, wiping my mouth with the
back of my hand. “Help yourself.” I can’t bring myself to baby his belligerent ass this morning.

“You don’t have to be a dick,” he snips, grazing my hand with his shoulder as he wheels by me.

“I wasn’t being a dick. That’s your thing, not mine.”

Rather than jerking around toward me, ready to fight, Kurt turns a smug look my way. “Katie didn’t seem to mind.”

“What the hell
was that
, by the way?”

I’m glad he brought it up so I didn’t have to.

“What do you mean? Does it bother you that she flirted with your crippled younger brother?”

“She didn’t flirt with you, dude. She was just being nice. That’s the way she is.”

Although I’m nonchalant about his claim, a stab of jealousy rockets through me. Katie
did
seem more natural, more relaxed, even smiled more when she interacted with Kurt. That shouldn’t piss me off. I mean, he
is
my crippled brother. I should be happy for him if he could find someone to love and to love
him
.

Just not Katie.

Evidently I’m not that good of a person. At least not where she’s concerned.

“Keep telling yourself that, man.” Kurt clucks, smacking the side of the blender to get out the last of the smoothie. I could help him. But I don’t. Because, like all Rogan men, sometimes I
can
be an asshole.

I take a swim after my workout, pushing myself harder than usual. There’s a bug up my ass and I’m determined to drown it in endorphins. Unfortunately, they’re not even strong enough to do the trick. After a shower and lunch, I’m still antsy. I’ve glanced at the clock a hundred times. The minutes aren’t passing swiftly enough. What I really want is to see Katie. Only she hasn’t called.

I thought of surprising her this morning. I considered it again
this afternoon, but I know I can’t push her. She’s obviously had some kind of bad experience, likely with a guy, that’s made her gun-shy, and the worst possible thing I could do is press her too hard, too fast. But it’s frustrating as shit to go so slow when I find myself thinking about her all the time, wondering what she’s thinking and what I could do or say to make her smile.

I’ve never met someone who I had to work for. Hell, I’ve never wanted to.

Until now.

Until Katie.

There’s just something about her. As vague and stupid as that sounds, there
is.
Of course I want to kiss her and peel her prim clothes off to see every inch of her satin skin. Who wouldn’t? But I find myself in the unusual place of wanting to get inside her head, too. To find out what scares her and to protect her from it, to do everything I can to take away that wary, distrustful look she carries around so often.

But to do that, I’ll have to go at her pace, which is slower than any snail in the history of time.

I glance at my watch again. Maybe she’ll show up at my door in another hour or so to rehearse again tonight. I left the invitation open. And if she doesn’t, then I’m going to find her. Slow is one thing, but I have to see her tonight. I have to.

Frustrated and full of restless energy, I head back to the pool for more swimming. I have to stay busy or else I’ll be on my bike, heading across town, and I damn well know it.

I’m not sure how much time has passed when I’m sitting on the edge of the pool letting my shorts dry. That’s when I hear the doorbell.

My smile is immediate. She came.

I leap up and head back through the house, calling out to Kurt in case he heard it, too. “I got it!”

No answer. He’s probably wearing his headset, gaming with someone online. Even better. He can stay the hell in there all night. That would suit me just fine. I want Katie all to myself.

I yank open the door without even looking through the glass on either side of the big double wooden panel. I’m not at all pleasantly surprised when I find Rayelle standing in front of me, looking hot in a tank dress that reveals a crazy amount of cleavage and barely covers her ass at the bottom. Yeah, she looks good, but I much prefer Katie’s natural, relaxed beauty to this.

My smile is bland. “Rayelle. What are you doing here?”

Her lips curve in a gesture a hungry lioness would be proud of. “I came to help you with your lines. Tony wanted you to rehearse, and who better to help with that than me?”

Likely story. I don’t have to ask what she’s
really
doing here. I know. I can see it in the eyes that are eating up my mostly naked form.

She came for me. Plain and simple.

I grin at her. “That’s awfully nice of you, but I’ve got plans for tonight. In fact, someone is coming over to read lines with me, but thanks for the offer.”

Obviously not one with whom subtlety is effective, Rayelle takes a step toward me, leans in to smash her tits up against my chest and plants her mouth onto mine. Her tongue is working its way between my lips at the same time that her hands are skimming their way down my bare stomach to the waistband of my shorts. I don’t push her away. I wait until she breaks the kiss. This is going to be awkward enough as it is.

I look down into her smoky eyes as she reaches inside my shorts. That’s when I take her wrist to stop her hand.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not in the script,” I tell her lightly.

“Not yet. But you know it’s coming. Why not get a little
practice in? You know, for the love of the craft. Make it as convincing as possible.” Her smile is sexy and feline as hell. She’s all but purring and rubbing herself on me like a damn cat. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

“As, uh,
tempting
as that sounds, it’s just not a good time.”

The heat in her eyes fades just enough that I know she’s finally getting the hint. “Is this about Victoria? Are you two back together?” She steps away. No one wants to be on the receiving end of Victoria’s claws.

“No, it’s not Victoria.”

Now she just looks confused. I’m sure a girl like this can’t fathom any other explanation for being turned down. I doubt rejection is something she even considered when she was driving over here.

Her eyes narrow and then widen, like she just thought of the
only possible reason
I might not want a no-strings-attached bang. “Are you gay?”

I would laugh if it weren’t so pathetic. She’d rather chalk it up to me being gay than just not being interested. “Hell no, I’m not gay.”

“Then, what?”

“I’ve got other plans tonight. With someone else,” I say gently, trying my best to protect her ego. I don’t need any more claws pointed in my direction.
Damn, these divas are complicated!

That only makes me appreciate Katie that much more. Only Katie’s not here. And my guess is that she’s not coming.

I’m relieved when my phone rings, interrupting what is becoming an increasingly uncomfortable situation. It gives me an excuse to get rid of Rayelle, which I do immediately.

“Thanks for coming, Rayelle, but I need to get this.” Without further explanation, I close the door in her shocked face and tap the
ANSWER
button. I don’t really give a shit who it is, but I want to thank the caller with an expensive bottle of scotch.

Until I hear the voice. And then I want to thank her with a long, hot kiss and three hours of worshipping her body.

It’s Katie. I put my number in her phone last night. I’d hoped she’d use it. Or better yet just show up. At least she’s doing one.

“Rogan?” she asks, uncertain.

“Damn, am I glad to hear your voice,” I tell her honestly.

Her laugh is light and pleased. “Why is that?”

“Besides the fact that it sounds like warm honey in my ear, you just saved me from getting devoured.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Surprise visit from Rayelle. Unexpected and not at all welcome.”

“Poor you. What a chore it must be to fend off the advances of beautiful women.”

“It is when there’s only one beautiful woman that I’m interested in. Are you coming over?”

Shit, bro, could you
be
any more anxious?

“No, that’s why I’m calling. Mona needs me to run some errands for her. It’s important. I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to make it.”

“You can come after. Sunset over the pool would look amazing on your skin.”

“Uhhh, thank you, but I’d better not.”

“I assume there’s nothing I can say to change your mind.”

I’m disappointed. Very disappointed. I wanted to see her again. Hell, right now it feels like I
needed
to see her again.

“No, I’m afraid not.”

I don’t push Katie and I certainly don’t tell her my plan, but I
will
be seeing her tonight. I just need to get ahold of Mona to find out where she’ll be.