Chapter 21

21

Bea

F reedom smelled like tropical coconut.

Bea soaped her hair a second time, just because she could. Back at the hacienda , her showers had always been lightning quick. She’d wanted to spend as little time as possible naked and vulnerable. Not that her uncle had ever done anything to her, but he had walked in on her a couple of times, while she was in the shower, and it’d been awful.

Bea shivered, even though the water was almost hotter than she could stand. No amount of heat could erase the memories of the fear she’d lived with. Now, for the first time in forever, Bea felt safe. She felt free. And it was strange that this sense of freedom should come now of all times, when she was sharing a small house with three strangers.

The thought shook her. It was difficult to think of Rogue or his friends as strangers. They’d saved her life multiple times and were protecting her in a way not even her father had done.

Not that what she felt for Rogue was fatherly in the least. Far from it. Just thinking about him made her feel warm inside. Tingly, when she remembered their kiss. If that’s what it felt like to kiss him, what would it feel like to go … all the way?

Bea blushed. It wasn’t something she’d ever imagined, wanting a man like this, but then, Rogue made her feel in ways she’d never felt before. And she was done second-guessing herself and her feelings. For once, she was just going to enjoy it.

By the time she finally turned the shower off, her skin was pink and shiny. She might have stayed even longer under the spray, but she didn’t want to take all the hot water; she also knew water wasn’t the best thing for her still-healing feet.

Her heart sped up as she heard the object of her affections move around the bedroom. It was his bedroom, to be fair, which she’d claimed as her own while he was ill, and which she hadn’t left yet. And won’t leave, unless he asks me to.

Though Slate had told her Rogue’s life wasn’t in danger, that his body just needed time to recover from what he’d been through, seeing him lying unconscious for so long had scared the hell out of her.

She dried herself briskly and wrapped the threadbare towel around her body before walking outside.

Rogue was on the floor near the window, doing push-ups. Down, until his nose almost touched the floor, then up again, his arms and back muscles bunching deliciously under the soft gray T-shirt he was wearing. All that raw power and strength. With clothes on, it was impossible to tell that he’d been injured, but she knew the skin underneath would still be mottled with bruises. Some of the scars, he’d carry with him for the rest of his life. He paused halfway through a push-up and turned his head. Their eyes met. Something electric sizzled between them.

Bea licked her lips, hoping to dispel some of the tension. His eyes zeroed in on her mouth and he gave a little groan. His form faltered, as if he no longer knew if he was pushing up or down.

She shared the feeling. He put a knee down onto the floor and jumped to his feet. Broad, strong feet . She loved looking at them.

He looked her up and down for an instant. Again, that connection between them crackled. Bea held his gaze. Was it just her, or had the room heated up several degrees in the last minute?

Not knowing what to do with her hands, Bea gripped the towel tighter. It was exactly the wrong thing to do. He averted his eyes, as if only just realizing she was naked underneath.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice deep and growly. “I’ll go shower while you get changed.”

The door closed behind him. Bea let out a deep breath. Damn. She wanted—she wasn’t sure what she wanted, but when he looked at her like that, she wanted more. She wanted closer. She wanted to see where this was going, and she wanted to ask him why he wasn’t giving them a chance.

Since his recovery, Rogue had been the perfect gentleman—letting her shower first, giving her first use of the only towel so it was dry when she used it, letting her choose which of the single beds she wanted for herself.

She sighed. The first time she’d seen the room, she’d wished it had been a double bed. Now she realized Rogue would have chosen to sleep on the floor, rather than share the bed with her. It was almost as if he didn’t want to be close to her, except every time they were together, she felt his eyes on her, felt the intensity of his gaze. He liked looking at her as much as she liked looking at him.

Maybe he’s not yet feeling a hundred percent. Maybe— But she knew, deep inside, that wasn’t it. After those first few days in bed, he’d recovered quickly. She’d just caught him doing push-ups, for goodness’s sake.

There was a reason he was avoiding her, and she feared she knew what it was. It’s you. It’s your fault. This whole time she’d been acting like a shell-shocked victim, so of course, being the good human he was, that’s what he was treating her like. Her hands clenched, and she forced them to relax.

There had to be something she could do to make him realize she wasn’t a victim—or, at least, not just a victim. That she was a grown woman, able to make her own choices, and that she wanted him.

The shower stopped. He’s going to need the towel. You need to get changed.

Bea walked to the chest of drawers and opened the top drawer. Dark had gone out the first day and come back with a bag full of things for her. Underwear, socks, flip-flops, a pair of too-big denim shorts and several colorful T-shirts. Her favorite one had the words “ It’s Colombia, not Columbia ” printed in the colors of the Colombian flag. She loved the casual style, so different from the pastel dresses her uncle had insisted she wear. If it was up to her, she might never wear a dress again.

She selected a clean pair of underwear and a T-shirt—then stopped on her tracks. Suddenly, she knew exactly what she had to do.

“Bea? Are you done with the towel?” Rogue asked, his voice muffled by the door between them.

Before she could change her mind, Bea opened the bathroom door. “I won’t be needing it,” she said.

Rogue’s head popped out the side of the curtain, a questioning look on his face. He’d washed his hair. She liked it like this, wet and with some strands falling down the side of his face, even better than she liked it tied back the way he usually wore it.

She slowly unwrapped the towel, letting it hang from the fingers of the hand that was closest to him.

“Here,” she said. His face froze for a second, his eyes widening. She felt a moment of uncertainty. This clean but dingy bathroom wasn’t the ideal scenario for what she had in mind. She looked down at herself—at her too-small breasts, the bones still jutting out from her hip bones, though she could already see she’d gained weight in the last week. No surprise there, given the way the men kept feeding her huge portions of everything they prepared. But maybe he liked more voluptuous women. Her smile dimmed. Bea knew that would never be her, no matter how much weight she gained.

“What are you doing?”

The ragged tone of his voice made her look up, and what she saw made her heart stop. He was drinking in her naked form like a man dying of thirst in the desert, his gray eyes stormy with desire.

His hand came out, as if to touch her, before he shook his head, seeming to realize what he was doing. He stepped out from behind the shower curtain, grabbed the corner of the towel from her, and clumsily pulled it up to cover her form. Which, of course, left his body completely exposed. And now it was her turn to open her mouth. Until now, she’d never seen him fully naked. Naked from the waist up, yes, and that was impressive enough. But never … like this.

Before she could stop herself, her gaze moved down his chest to his belly button, following the thin line of hair heading down … straight down to his thick, very erect cock.

Bea gasped. As she watched, his cock thickened even further, bobbing lightly. She’d never imagined a man could be so big.

He still held the towel as a kind of shield in front of her body, but now his hands wavered, as if wondering if he should be covering himself rather than her.

“Have you never seen a naked man before?” he asked, his voice almost a growl.

Bea realized her own mouth was still hanging open. She closed it quickly, struggling for words. Words that weren’t coming.

Words won’t come while you’re staring at … that .

She finally forced her eyes up. His own eyes were twinkling with something like amusement now.

“Enjoying the view?”

She nodded, replying to his earlier question. “I’ve seen drawings made by older girls in school, so I know what I’m looking at. And I’ve also seen horses.” She allowed herself a small smile, and a quick peek back between his legs. Yes, just as big as before. Maybe growing even bigger.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he said, flashing a bright smile. “Here, take the towel, before I do something I shouldn’t do.”

A small burst of anger hit her at his use of the singular. As if this was something only he was doing, rather than something they could do together . Bea shook her head from side to side. “I don’t want the towel. Do you not like me? Why are you walking away?”

Rogue let the towel drop to the floor. It’s not like it was doing much, anyway.

He bridged the distance between them in a single step, gently cupping her cheek with his hand.

“I’m walking away because it’s the right thing to do. You’ve just been through a traumatic experience, and you need time to heal, to discover what you want?—”

“I’m not a child, Rogue,” she said angrily.

He looked her up and down for a long instant, giving a wry laugh. “I know you’re not, believe me.”

“I may not be very experienced, but it seems simple enough from where I’m standing,” she said. Desire bolstered her courage, giving her the words she needed. “I’m attracted to you. And I think … I think you’re attracted to me.”

This time, Rogue didn’t hesitate. “That’s one way of putting it, honey. I want you like I’ve never wanted any woman before. And if you knew more about men, you’d know just how close I am to grabbing you and kissing you senseless.”

Yes.

“That sounds lovely,” she whispered.

But still, Rogue didn’t move. She took a tiny step closer to him, until their bodies were aligned, and stood up on her tiptoes, bringing her face closer. She knew, even though it hadn’t happened yet, that the moment their bodies touched, they would combust. Yet she didn’t want to trick Rogue into kissing her. She wanted him to want to be with her.

“Ever since I became an adult,” Bea said, “I’ve only been valuable for one thing. Something I hadn’t yet given away. Something my uncle wanted to gift to a man I despised.”

Rogue’s mouth tightened.

“I won’t let them hurt you, honey. I swear to you.”

Honey. That word again. A sweet caress.

“Let me finish. My value is not in my virginity. I am so much more than that.”

“Jesus. I know that, Bea. The reason I’m holding back—and fuck, it’s hard—has nothing to do with you being a virgin.” The last word came out as a croak. He wasn’t unaffected.

“What is it, then? And stop saying I’ve been through a traumatic experience. That traumatic experience will be with me for as long as I live. What matters is what I choose to do now with my life. And if we’re both attracted to each other, why shouldn’t we have sex?” she said, pausing for an instant to take a deep breath. “No strings attached.”