7. Angel
ANGEL
Arap on the door rouses me from a deep sleep.
A sound sleep that I’ve only started to have in the last few days under the roof of Rogue’s club.
Always before scared of an enemy or my father bursting through the door or of late the Scorpions hurting me or taking something that I haven’t ever wanted to give.
Rogue walks in, muscles for days and those eyes, the ones that look like they can see right through me and every lie I’ve ever needed to tell.
Who knew being a prude would put you in a bad situation, that being a virgin would make you a target for an evil son of bitch like the prez of the Scorpions or the people who would buy my innocence just for kicks.
Lucky my sister isn’t as prudish, that she’s not a virgin, and using my innocence would make them come after me. My innocence and their desire to profit from it probably got her far away from those savages and saved her from a life of hell.
Rogue closes the door with the back of his boot. The sound of it causes every nerve in my body to stand at attention while those ice blues pierce right through me. He wants answers, still doesn’t believe me, it’s clear in his gaze. His eyes are asking questions his mouth hasn’t even started to ask.
After days locked up in this room, with him bringing me food and water and asking me questions each day, it’s almost like he thinks my story will change.
It’s clear he still doesn’t believe me, and I really don’t know what else to say.
I’m not a plant, not here to hurt them and I’ve told him almost everything.
But survival instincts keep me from telling him that I’m a virgin.
There’s no reason he and especially his men need to know that.
I’m not trying to put a price tag on my head again.
Rogue puts a knee on the mattress, leaning his weight onto the bed. The fresh scent of his soap invades my nostrils causing little tingles of desire to snake down my spine.
I slide back, my heels digging into the mattress under the thin comforter as I move myself against the headboard, my back pressing into its hardness as the prez of The Royal Bastards closes the distance between us with not one person who can save me in the room.
Rogue slides a hand around my nape, under my hair, pulling me so close that I can smell the mint from his toothpaste. “If there’s something you’re not telling me, I need you to tell me now. For your safety, Angel.”
There’s no way to control the slight trembling of my limbs, because this feeling, the heat at my center, of wanting the prez of the notorious biker club.
It’s not something I’ve ever felt before, but it is so intense that it’s impossible to ignore.
So I say the same thing I’ve been saying since I got here. “I’m not the enemy.”
I’m not sure if he agrees. His gaze is intense.
He looks right through me, just like he can see every lie I’ve told.
It’s hard to focus on anything but his body full of muscles, his dark hair hanging in waves, smart beard of the same color.
He is the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. My mind flips between wanting him to stay, to kiss me on the lips, and wanting him to go.
Rogue tilts his head, and I’m not stopping him.
He knows I want this and so do I. The warmth of his breath rakes against my ear as his fingers splay against my nape causing me to shiver.
His lips meet mine in a kiss that drives everything else away but the feel of his mouth on mine, kissing, coaxing me to part as his tongue finds mine in a dance that makes my blood race wanting more.
He deepens our kiss and a soft moan escapes on a breath.
When he breaks our kiss and caresses my lips with a thumb I’m almost completely dazed.
His blue eyes meet mine. “You going to tell me why the Scorpions really want you, why your sister is on the run and why you ran through my door? How did your stepdad know the Scorpions, Angel? Tell me something baby, that helps me validate you to my men and I so can find the fucks besides the Scorpions responsible.”
Rogue doesn’t want me really; it’s just another way to get information from me.
Embarrassment for wanting my captor’s kiss floods my heated cheeks.
There’s nothing left to say to this man who harasses me with the same questions day after day while bringing me meals because I’ve told him all I really know. “I’m not the enemy.”
His eyes penetrate me with a deep gaze. “I have half a crew out there who believe you are the enemy. You gonna tell me how I convince them that you’re not? Is this the day you tell me something I can use?”
I could just cry but I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s hurt me in any way.
They’re all the same, fucking assholes. Asking me about the man who wants to buy me but not trusting me?
Let his crew believe I’m some sort of plant for the Scorpions or that I’m the one who shouldn’t be trusted.
“How the hell am I supposed to know who offered to buy me? I’d only know that if I were part of the plan.
Every single one of them wants to believe I am. ”
“I’m trying to help you, Angel, but you have to give me something.”
Sure. All they see is the face and body I was born with. The men all say it’s a pretty face, a sexy ass, and one they like to look at while I dance, but I hate the fuck out of them every time they do.
They want one thing from me and it’s the one thing I’ll never give willingly to someone who wants only that. Like Rogue.
I push his chest hard. “Get the fuck away from me.”
“When are you going to believe me? What do I have to do to make you understand? Let your goons believe what they want. I don’t give two fucks anymore. Tomorrow, I’ll leave. I’ll get out of here and out of your hair.”
“You’re not fucking going anywhere until we get to the bottom of this. My crew wants answers, and I need to tell them something real, something they will believe. Angel, they’ve all seen you dancing at the clubs and coming and going into them with the Scorpions.”
I just glare. How does he not know what the assholes are like. The sad truth is he does, he just doesn’t believe me, which hurts far worse than it should.
“Like I said, I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m not staying where I’m not wanted.”
I’ve had enough for one day. I point to the door. “Out!”