Page 8 of Rogue Voice

“Thank you,” he said, and took another step back. Bea took that as her cue to run past him, back into the room she’d first come out of. She locked the latch and stepped inside, pulling the curtains tight behind her, waiting for her heart beat to slow down.

3

Rogue

Fuck.

Rogue pressed his palms against the shower wall. The hot spray felt great on his tense neck and shoulders but did nothing to soothe his mind—or the problem down below.

He sighed.

This is so wrong.

He’d never been a cradle-snatcher, yet here he was, getting hard over a girl who couldn’t be a day over twenty.

Not a girl,a voice inside him said.A woman. Very much a woman.He shook his head, spraying water everywhere.A woman who’s close to a decade younger than you.

He could still hear her breathy, tremulous voice, which seemed to hold on to a million secrets. She’d been lying aboutthe towels, of course, and damn if that didn’t make her even more interesting.

Rogue groaned, unable to help himself, and palmed his thick cock with his right hand. He pumped a few times, remembering the soft lines of her body, the cloud of golden hair surrounding that smooth heart-shaped face, and those dark, unfathomable eyes, the image as vivid as if she were standing in front of him right now. He held on to the image until he sprayed his come all over the white tiles.

Shit.

This was bad. The last thing he needed was to be obsessing over some random woman now. He should have gotten laid before leaving Zurich, but now it was too late. He had to get his head screwed on right and focus on the job.

Now that he knew Emiliano Cruz had inherited his brother’s throne, Rogue had a choice to make. He could leave now, go out the window and foot it to Sincelejo. Get in touch with Slate and Thorne and end this charade.Or he could stay.

Cruz wants something from you. Find out what it is. Help bring him down.

It was tempting. Payback for what Ricardo Cruz had done to him. He’d ended Rogue’s career. He’d almost ended his life.

Another voice inside him spoke up.

Ricardo Cruz didn’t do that.

You did that to yourself.

Pissed off now, at himself and at the world, he stepped out of the shower and picked up a towel, drying himself brusquely. The soft white fabric once again reminded him of the woman. As if he’d needed the reminder. His dick threatened to wake up again. Who was he kidding? His curiosity was piqued but he still couldn’t figure out her end game.

Who was she?

Did Emiliano send her?

If so, what was he thinking about, sending a young woman alone to meet him?

The thought soured in his belly.

She’d looked worried, standing there—almost scared. And the thought of that luminous young woman afraid—even worse, the thought of her afraidof him—made him ill.

Rogue wrapped the towel around his hips and walked out into the bedroom, the terracotta floor cool against the soles of his feet. Lifting his backpack onto the white, king-size bed, he noted it was lighter than it was before. He’d expected them to rifle through it but hadn’t imagined they’d be bold enough to take his laptop. Which they had. As well as his cigarettes.

Fuck, but he needed a cigarette just about now. It was a disgusting habit, but one his doctors had agreed was probably the lesser of all evils, in his case. They’d almost encouraged him to keep smoking, as a way of occupying his thoughts and his hands.Anything to keep me away from harder drugs.

He finished going through the backpack.

At least they were kind enough to leave me my spare underwear.

He picked up a clean pair of boxer shorts and slipped them on quickly, then put on his old jeans. If he stayed longer than a couple of days—and if he stayed alive—he was going to need to do some laundry.

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