“How are the boys doing?”
A small sparkle lit Lisa’s eyes. She loved her boys. “They’re with their dad tonight.” She finally sighed. “With Joe and Jaime’s deaths and Grandma’s illness, I had to beg him to help me with them. There’s just not enough hours in the day.”
“If you need anything, you’ll let me know?” Rogue asked.
“I will,” Lisa murmured, but Rogue knew her. Lisa wouldn’t tell her if she was starving; Rogue had to guess at it. She had to buy groceries and get someone else to deliver them or face Lisa’s anger. She had to slip in when Lisa wasn’t around and pay home health for Grandma Walker’s medicines and hospital bills. Lisa was proud as hell and she hated taking money from anyone, especially family.
Her head turned as Zeke moved back into the room. She fought her response to him, fought to keep her expression clear of the need and the hunger that burned inside her.
He was dressed in jeans again and his uniform shirt. A black official sheriff’s hat perched on his head. His badge was clipped to his belt and he looked so damned sexy it made her mouth water. Her hands itched to touch him, her lips felt swollen, inflamed for his kiss.
Rising to her feet, she watched him expectantly. She wanted him until she was consumed by it, but she also remembered why he was there.
“Had the boys told her anything?” Rogue asked as Lisa stood beside her.
He shook his head, his eagle-fierce gaze going between her and Lisa.
“Nothing,” he breathed out roughly. “If forensics or the coroner’s investigator doesn’t come up with anything, I’m going to have to close this case.”
He knew something, she knew he did. She knew that closed little look, that official expression, and she hated it.
“I need to head out,” he told them, heading for the door. “If the two of you think of anything, then don’t hesitate to let me know.”
With a slight little nod of his head he walked to the door. Rogue let him get outside before she gave Lisa a quick good- bye, grabbed her backpack, and followed him.
“Sheriff?” She kept her voice casual, composed.
Show no weakness, she warned herself. No familiarity. Stay distant. Zeke didn’t like public displays of anything from women, and she knew it.
He paused by the Tahoe, watching her curiously as she moved toward him.
“We need to talk,” she told him, keeping her voice low despite the fact that there were no neighbors.
“About what?” he asked carefully.
“Joe and Jaime.” She propped her hands on her hips as she faced him. “What have you really learned?”
His arms went over his chest, his gaze became hooded. “Nothing conclusive,” he said.
“What do you have that isn’t conclusive?”
His eyes narrowed, his jaw bunched, and for a second she saw lust blaze in his eyes.
He grimaced as he glanced over her shoulder to the house. “Are you busy this afternoon?”
Surprised, Rogue shook her head. “I’m off the rest of the day. Why?”
“Follow me to the house,” he stated, opening his door and stepping into the Tahoe.
“We’ll talk there.”
Follow him? To his house?
Rogue knew his farm wasn’t far from Grandma Walker’s. It was sheltered, private.
Hidden. Just as his relationships and his women stayed as hidden as he could manage.
She nodded slowly before moving away. He started the Tahoe as she moved away and was backing out of the drive as she straddled the Harley and started it with a flick of her wrist.
The rumble of power filled her senses, reminding her of Zeke.
Kicking the stand up, she maneuvered the cycle back, turned, and hit the gas as Zeke’s vehicle moved ahead of her.
Why his house? she wondered. Her heart was racing in her chest through the drive, her palms sweating. She could feel the wind against her breasts, her nipples peaking in anticipation, and she knew why. It wasn’t because they couldn’t talk in the Walker driveway; it was because Zeke had no intention of talking.
What were her intentions though? God, she didn’t want to become one of his hidden little secrets. One of the women that he kept behind closed doors and never claimed in public. But her body was raging. The memory of his touch, the need for more was building inside her like a volcano ready to explode.
She dreamed about him. She ached for him. She was the biggest fool living if she allowed him to do that to her.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, another part of her argued. She would never know if she didn’t try.
He was going to break her heart, her head warned her, but she was damned if she could stop it from happening. Zeke was her weakness, and she knew it.
She made the turn onto the farm behind him. The graveled road was long and winding, moving through the valley and angling up and around to another smaller, clear valley where the two-story wood-sided house sat beneath the blazing sun. It was surrounded on three sides by forests, and in the back led directly to the back-waters of Lake Cumberland.
A glimmer of water could be seen through the trees; the scent of it surrounded her as Zeke drew the Tahoe into an opened two-car garage and then motioned her in beside him.
The doors slid closed as the engines shut off. Rogue closed her eyes for a second, realizing what he was doing. Hiding her Harley, hiding her presence.
Breathing in deeply, she kicked the stand into place before swinging from the cycle.
Pulling the small backpack from her shoulders, she looped it over the bar on the back of the seat, all the while watching as he moved toward her.
His expression was predatory. It was hungry.
“Hiding me, Zeke?” She couldn’t keep the question inside as he came abreast of her.He paused, stared down at her as some shadow of emotion flickered in his eyes.
Zeke couldn’t believe he’d allowed his control to slip this far. He never brought a woman to his home. Ever. But he couldn’t stand it any longer. Need was eating him alive, the hunger for the taste of her was wearing at his control until he was like a man possessed.
It was get her here, or take her in the damned driveway in clear view of Lisa and her grandmother. Now, wouldn’t that just give rise to enough gossip to fuel this county for the next decade?
“Come on.” He didn’t answer her question. Instead, he gripped her arm and pulled her to the door, only distantly aware of the fact that she hadn’t tried to shove his balls to his throat.
Men didn’t manhandle Rogue, she didn’t allow it. Until him.
“You are so pushing your luck,” she warned him as he slammed the garage door behind them and swung around to face her.
“You think I’m not aware of that?” he asked.
He knew damned good and well he was pushing his luck.
“Get ready,” he warned her. “I’m about to push further.”
Already part of his control was lost. The ability to deny her, to deny the hunger pulsing through him, tempting him. It was shot to damned hell, the edges frayed and broken.
But another kind of control kicked in. Instinctive. Dominant.
His fingers curved around her jaw, pushing her head back as a rush of breath parted her lips and her violet eyes darkened, widened.
Did she like it?
Her face flushed as he held her. One hand at her hip, the other controlling her head. His nostrils flared as he drew her scent in. The smell of the mountains rushed around her as the breeze had while she rode. Beneath it was the simple, clean scent of desire and femininity. The smell of the woman that tempted him into his dreams and through every second of reality.
“You’re a weakness,” he told her, letting his thumb stroke over her jaw as he backed her against the wall.
“Really?” Her breathing was deep, rough. “I’m surprised, Zeke. I thought big, bad sheriff didn’t have a weakness?”
“Smart-ass.” His gaze dropped to her lips.
Tempting, sweet, her tongue licked over them slowly. Teasingly.
“Now I’m a smart-ass, too,” she whispered, her tone sensual, sexually weak.
The sound of her need had his dick throbbing. His balls were tight, the need wrapping around him like manacles as he stared down at her, fighting it, fighting what he knew he was going to do.
“Damn you,” he growled.
His head lowered, and she was waiting on him. Waiting for him.
Kittenish little nails dug into his scalp as his lips covered hers and fire erupted through his system. Heat blazed along his nerve endings, dominance and overwhelming sexual starvation erupted through his mind.
She tasted like sunshine. Like spring. She kissed like the hottest caress of the sun, her lips parting beneath his, her tongue meeting his, her body arching like a slender tree before the force of a summer storm.
He was lost. Son of a bitch, he was lost in her and he knew it.
Nothing mattered but more. Kissing her deeper, stronger. Fueling the desire inside her to the depth that his had been fueled. Wiping her mind of everything, anything, but his touch, his taste. Because that was what she did to him. She wiped away the control he prized so highly and revealed the man he kept hidden from the world.
Because Zeke knew he had never kissed another woman like he was kissing Rogue now.
It wasn’t just hunger, it was dominance. It was the dark central core of his sexuality moving in and claiming, when he had never claimed before.
He controlled the kiss. He held her face in place, fingers on the pressure points of her jaw, keeping her mouth open to him, controlling her ability to wrest that dominance from him. And she was trying. She tempted and she teased, licked at his tongue and tried to suckle it. She moaned when he refused to allow her the upper hand. Her body arched, her nails dug into his scalp, and her hips arched to cushion the hard-on raging beneath his jeans.
Just this kiss, he had told himself once, long ago. If he could just have this kiss, he would be satisfied. But the kiss only pushed him closer to the brink, made that dominant core stronger, more insistent.
He let her suckle his tongue lightly before pulling back. He wanted to see her lips wrapped around his cock like that. He wanted to hear her moaning around the thick, hard crest as he shot his release to her throat.
“You’re dangerous.” He pulled back, nipped at her lips warningly as she tried to follow his kiss.
“I’m lost.” She sighed, fingers trailing to his neck, her nails prickling over his flesh.
“Kiss me again, Zeke. One more time.”
Her lashes lifted, showing the brilliance of dark, dark violet eyes. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed as her breasts rose and fell roughly.
“Take the shirt off.” He released her and stepped back enough to allow her to move.
“Let me see you.”
Her face flushed deeper, the color tempting him as it washed over her neck and beneath the collar of the T-shirt.
Her tongue ran over her lips. Her hands moved to the low-rise waist of her jeans. The metal button slid free.
His hand caught hers, his gaze narrowing. “Just the shirt, Rogue. Nothing else. Pull it off.”
She shivered, her eyes shadowed with wariness and excitement as she pulled the material free and eased it up and over her head.
Zeke felt his jaw tighten as he tried to push back the darker aspects of the man slipping free.
“The braid,” he said. “Loosen it.”
“You’re bossy.” Her pouty little grin was filled with challenge and defiance despite the fact that her hands lifted to work her hair free.
He watched her breasts beneath the white skimpy lace of her bra. The material barely covered the hard, pointed flesh of her nipples. The cotton-candy pink tips had his teeth clenching with the need to taste them.
“Good,” he crooned as her hair fell around her shoulders and down her back.
His hands lifted to the silken strands, though he kept his gaze on her breasts. “Now take the bra off.”