Free Rogue by Julia Sykes Page B

I was enveloped in sweet warmth. 
     “Yes,” I breathed.  “I understand, Derek.”
    His smile was gentle and genuinely pleased.  I practically glowed with my own pleasure. 
     God, this was so easy.  I was pleasing him, and I didn’t even have to think about trying.  He made everything
     so clear-cut that failure and disappointment seemed almost impossible.
    His fingers left my chin to find the nape of my neck.  They sank into my hair, firmly
     grasping my curls.  He continued to apply steady but insistent pressure.  My entire
     scalp lit up, sending little sparks sinking through my skull and into my mind.  My
     head dropped back easily.
    He leaned into me, and his hot breath tickled across the sensitive skin just below
     my ear.
    “On your knees, Sharon,” he repeated.  The words were a soft command that seeped into
     me.
    My knees folded, his hand in my hair helping to guide me down.  Something soft covered
     the floor beneath me, cushioning my legs.
    Never releasing his hold on my hair, Derek sat.  His weight settled down on the edge
     of the bed that I was kneeling beside.  When he was comfortable, he pressed my head
     down so that it rested on his thigh.
    “What-?”
    Derek’s forefinger was at my lips before the word had finished forming on them.
    “Don’t speak.”  The order was calm but firm, his deep voice forbidding any argument. 
     “Just relax.”
    I gave him a small nod.  This was my job; this was my mission.  I had to do what Derek
     told me to do if I wanted to maintain my cover.
    Trust.  I had to pretend to trust Carter if I wanted him to trust me.  Then he might
     slip up and tell me something about the Kings and their involvement with drugs at
     Decadence.
    One long finger tapped the center of my forehead.
    “I told you to relax,” he said sternly.  “Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it.”
    How did he know?  If he could read me so easily, my job was going to be even more difficult than I had
     initially thought.
    He rubbed the pad of his thumb in a small circle between my brows, easing the furrow
     that had formed there.
    “Stop it,” he repeated.  “Just be here with me.”
    All my worrisome thoughts were smoothed away when Derek’s fingers began to work through
     my hair, massaging my scalp.  Something that sounded suspiciously like a soft groan
     left my lips along with my sigh.  No one ever touched me like this.  No one ever took
     care of me.
    Again, that thought should have set off alarm bells, but whatever he was doing to
     me just felt too damn good to fight it.  Besides, it wasn’t like he was touching me
     in a remotely sexual way.
    But then why had heat flooded my core and pulsed outward to fill the rest of my body?
    Derek must have read the first signs of tension in my muscles as my doubts began to
     chill that heat.  His hand rubbed down my back in a reassuring motion.
    “It’s okay, Sharon,” he murmured.  “It’s okay to enjoy this.  Just relax.”
    Relax.  He wanted me to relax.  That would please him.
    Easy.  So easy.
    “Take a deep breath,” he ordered.
    Without a thought, I obediently filled my lungs.  The rush of oxygen flooded my brain,
     obliterating my niggling doubts.
    “Now let it go.”
    The air left me in a slow stream, blowing away all my stress and worry.
    His hand began to work through my hair again, almost as though he was petting me.
    “That’s good,” he praised.
    For a moment, I was struck by the oddness of our positions.  I had never shared space
     with a man like this before, but this felt just as comfortable as curling up on the
     couch beside Steven.  Possibly even more comfortable.
    I entered a sort of trance, where nothing existed in the world except for the gentle
     touch of his hands upon me, stroking me, soothing me.  My eyes closed, and I fell
     into a blissfully free state.  I didn’t have to worry; I didn’t have to fight; I didn’t have to wonder if
     I was doing the right thing.  All