Chapter 9
REBEL
One Month Later . . .
I swear to all that’s almighty I’m going to go insane from sexual frustration. Rogue has done nothing but drive me up the ever-loving wall.
First, Rogue’s moved into my house. Yes, moved himself into my house.
I came home from the office one day at lunchtime to check on him, only to find a few prospects for the club unloading his stuff inside.
I’d ended up going back to work without a word edgewise.
I didn’t want to argue while he was recovering.
At the office, I’ve got to hand it to my cousin for his help in finding me a receptionist. He’d gotten Hammer and Malice’s ol’ ladies to find someone, and they did.
Alanna is a friend of Willow’s from college.
She’d been desperately looking for a job that would provide enough income to take care of her and her little sister, Charlotte, who is two years old.
After meeting Alanna and seeing the work she’s already done is impressive.
Where my schedule was a disaster, it’s now sane enough for me to understand.
I’m lucky to have her, except for the fact she seems to listen more to Rogue than me about my taking work home with me.
This is the second thing he’s done to get under my skin.
Rogue’s made it very clear when it comes to me being with him, my focus is on him rather than a case. I’ll admit I do like this. Time with Rogue is nice. He’d healed enough the doctor has cleared him. In my opinion, I think he’d twisted his doctor’s arm into clearing him.
For the past week, he’s been touching me more often.
Ever since we got back from Florida, he’s been in my bed.
At first, I’d attempted to sleep on the couch, but quickly learned that wasn’t going to happen.
To say Rogue can be the most stubborn man I know is an understatement.
He knew he wasn’t supposed to pick me up, but he did it anyway.
The fact he didn’t end up hurting himself is a miracle.
Then this morning, Rogue had kissed the daylights out of me before I left for the office.
With it being Friday and the weekend in front of us, I’m unsure of what it will bring.
But if he doesn’t do something about the fire that’s been smoldering inside me, because of him, I just might blow up.
Sighing, I go through the mail. I’ve been expecting something to come in for one of my clients, and it’s yet to show up.
I frown as I open one of the envelopes. There’s no name on the return label. Only an address. I pull the paper from inside and unfold the crisp white paper. I scan over the words and my stomach clenches.
You should learn your place. It’s not at his side, and you know it. You’ll never be enough for him. He needs more than a fat cow like you.
What the hell? Looking at the envelope again, I furrow my brows together in confusion. Who’d send me this? Is this some sort of sick joke?
Placing the envelope on my desk, I search up the address on Google to see if I might be able to find my answers. My answer pops up quickly, and I realize it’s an address for an abandoned warehouse where homeless people stay to keep out of the weather when they can.
My cell vibrates against the top of my desk, taking my focus off of the letter. Glancing down at the screen, I find a text message from Rogue.
Rogue: I’ll be at the club when you get off. Want me to pick up dinner?
A small smile slips into place at his offer.
Me: No, I can make something.
I don’t need him to pick food up for me.
I could honestly use the time alone. Maybe I’ll be able to find some relief while he’s at the clubhouse.
Then again, when he broke into my house the first time we had sex since we broke up ten years ago, he’d broken all of my toys.
Well, not all of them. There’s still one left he didn’t get ahold of.
It’s the one I keep in the back of my closet.
It’s only to be used when the bench is pulled out.
Which has been never.
Sure, I’ve had plenty of chances to use both with Grant, but I couldn’t do it. Not with him.
Turning to my computer, I pull up my email as my phone alerts me to another message.
Rogue: Okay. After I finish at the club, I’ll be home. Be ready for me.
Be ready for him?
What does he mean by that?
Me: You want to elaborate on that?
Rogue: Been far too long, Duchess. We’re due, and that’s happening when I get home later.
My body reacts to reading his words.
Whoa boy!
Me: Before anything, I think the two of us should talk.
God, I’m an idiot. I should seriously be committed for suggesting such a thing. Not when my body is humming for him to be inside me.
Rogue: Plenty of time to talk, Rebel.
Rogue: After I fuck you.
It takes everything in my willpower not to message him back, begging him to do so now.
With a shake of my head, I place my phone off to the side on top of the envelope and get to work. I need to check my emails, make a few calls before heading home.
Opening my email, I start going through them, responding to the ones needing my direct attention. I delete the ones that are junk. As I’m going through it all, I have one come in. I don’t recognize the email address.
Clicking it, I gasp at the images popping up.
There’s an image of Grant fucking me while I’m strapped to a swing, another of us with me—oh God no—tied up.
Not to a bed. I have a fascination with Shibari and have only ever done it twice.
One of those times was this picture. The other being with Rogue when he was first introducing me to his kinks.
Swallowing down the bile threatening to come up. I scroll further down, trying not to freak out more than I already am.
This has to be some sick joke. My heart’s going rampant in my chest right now. The last picture attached is of Rogue and me.
How did this person get these pictures?
Going back to the top of the email, I finally read the message attached to it.
It would be a shame if it got out how naughty a respected lawyer is. Leave him or suffer the consequences.
This has gotta be some sort of sick joke someone is playing to scare me.
I wanna keep thinking this, but how did they get these pictures?
Standing, I shut down everything. I can’t handle anything else right now. I need to get out of here. I don’t feel safe.
Grabbing my purse, I walk out of my office in a hurry, waving to Alanna as I bolt out of the building.
I make it outside and rush over to my car.
Unlocking the doors, I hop in behind the wheel.
Without thinking, I back out of my parking spot and head for the clubhouse.
I don’t know if I can go home or not, not after seeing that image of Rogue and me in my bed.
There’s only one place I feel safe at this moment, and that’s with Rogue.