Page 107 of Rogue Mission

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Waiting. For me.

“Better?” she asks brightly.

“Getting there.”

She stands, and I realize she’s stripped down to just the T-shirt that Allison and Camile gave her.

Below that, her legs are bare, pale and perfect in the dim light.

It takes me back to the first moment I saw her legs in that damned air-duct.

Jesus. What a crazy nightmare we’ve survived.

“Come here,” she says softly.

I cross to her because I’m weak. Because even knowing I shouldn’t take from her right now, I can’t stay away.

Her hands find my chest, fingers splaying over my sternum. Slowly, she traces the drops of water as they run downward.

Inside I’m shaking.

“I can feel your heart,” she whispers.

“It’s yours.”

The confession slips out before I can stop it.

“All of it. Everything I am,” I finish, my eyes memorizing the way she tugs her bottom lip inward.

Hunger grows until it’s a living thing crackling along my spine.

She tilts her head back, and I’m lost in the trust shining in her face. “Then give it to me. No walls. No holding back.”

“I don’t have protection.” Again. Fuck. “I wasn’t exactly planning?—”

“I know.” Her thumb traces my collarbone. “We already crossed that bridge.”

A growl grates out of my chest. “Rosalie?—”

“If we make a baby tonight, that’s amazing.” Her voice doesn’t waver. “It’s what I want.”

The world seems to shift around us. The chugging throb in the center of my chest echoes inside my head.

“You can’t mean that.”

“Why can’t I?” Challenge sparks in her eyes as she studies my face. “We could already be pregnant. There’s no stopping now.”

“Things are different,” I rasp, my hand finding her low back.

She leans into me, her nose brushing my neck.

Every hair on my arms stands up. I’m a loaded gun with a faulty trigger.

Whispering, she speaks close to my ear. “Is that because we’ve only known each other a few days? Or because there’s a killer after me? Maybe you say that because everything about this is insane?”

Just hearing the word killer on her beautiful, sweet tongue makes me flinch.

“All of that,” I rumble, my throat aching.

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