The Nauti Boys Collection Page 22

  As he disappeared she felt Rowdy’s hands slide through her hair.

  “Are you okay?” He tilted her head back, staring down at her with a slight frown.

  “I’m not an emotional wreck, Rowdy.” She grimaced at the concern in his eyes. “You’re suddenly treating me with kid gloves and it’s getting on my nerves.”

  “What do you mean by that?” His frown darkened as she moved away from him then turned to face him.

  “You told Dawg and Natches to keep their hands off me?” She leaned against the center island and crossed her arms beneath her breasts as she stared back at him. “Why?”

  His eyes narrowed. “We’ll discuss this later.”

  He turned away to the fridge, opening it to grab a beer as she stared back at him in surprise.

  “Says who?”

  “Me.” He unscrewed the bottle top with a hard jerk of his fingers.

  “And you think that perhaps this doesn’t concern me in some way? That maybe I don’t have a say in it?”

  “Drop this, Kelly,” he warned her, his voice grating as his eyes flamed back at her. “This isn’t a conversation I’m ready to get involved in where you’re concerned, not right now.”

  “Fine. I’ll drop it.” She uncrossed her arms, straightened her shoulders, and lifted her chin defiantly. Drop it? Oh she could drop it all right. “I’ll drop it completely, Rowdy. And you can go to hell at the same time you find yourself someplace else to sleep. If I’m not able to decide for myself whether or not I’ll screw another man, then I’ll be damned if I have the brains to decide if I want to screw you.”

  She stalked from the kitchen, fists clenched, her teeth grinding. God, when he had gotten so damned arrogant? So impossible to deal with? She didn’t know when it had happened, but where she was concerned, it could stop now.

  When had she become so damned stubborn?

  Rowdy watched Kelly as she stalked from the kitchen, then listened to her stomp up the stairs muttering to herself before he moved.

  Self-control, he had tried to warn himself. Things weren’t exactly stable right now. Between the stalker, his argument with Natches, and his own revelations about himself, he knew his temper wasn’t exactly calm. But this was just too much.

  Moving quickly up the stairs behind her, he caught the bedroom door as she was attempting to close it, pushing his way in before he slammed it forcibly.

  “Did I ask you to follow me?” she hissed, her gray eyes dark and gleaming with irritation as she faced him.

  “You didn’t have to ask.”

  Before she could blast him with whatever her lips were opening to say, he jerked her to him, lowered his head, and stole the sound with his kiss.

  It was like sinking into ecstasy, fire, all the pleasure he could have ever imagined. He caught her little gasp with his lips, felt her hands grip his shoulders, her nails biting into the fabric of his shirt as he turned and lifted her, pressing her against the wall as he devoured the sweetness of her lips.

  Her kiss. He loved her kiss. The feel of her lips softening beneath his, her body straining against him as his hands moved over it, pushing beneath the thin material of her shirt to cup her swollen breasts.

  She was ready for him. He could feel it in the way her tongue met his, the hot little moans smothered by his lips. God, he had dreamed of this. Dreamed of touching her. Loving her.

  Pulling his head back, he jerked her shirt over her head, staring down at her, fighting to breathe as he watched the heavy lift and fall of the firm mounds.

  He loved her breasts. His hands cupped them again, fitting over the fragile lace of her bra, his thumbs raking over the tender tips as he stared back at her.

  “You’re mine.” He could hear the guttural tone of his voice, but he also saw the effect of it in her eyes.

  They darkened in hunger as she drew in a hard breath, her tongue licking over her swollen lips.

  “I need you,” he whispered then, desperately, hungrily. “All of you, baby. Sweet and hot, and crying for me.”

  He took her lips again before he made a fool of himself. Before he went to his knees and begged her to see, to understand the selfishness rising inside him. It sliced through him like the sharpest blade. The thought of another man touching what was his, taking the innocence, the sweetness of Kelly was more than he could bear.

  “Rowdy…” She shuddered in his grip as he released her bra, drawing it from her shoulders before his hands went to the clasp of her jeans.

  “This is mine.” He worked his hand between them to push her jeans roughly over her hips before cupping the hot, wet mound of her pussy.

  His fingers delved beneath the silk of her panties, so desperate for the feel of her that taking time to completely undress her was more than he could consider.

  His fingers moved through silken heat, parting the bare folds to sink into the sweet, tight depths of her slick core.

  She arched into the touch, pressing against him, driving his finger further inside her as she cried into the kiss. The hot little sounds she made as he touched her had his cock throbbing in demand. He needed her. Needed to taste her, to touch her.

  Now. He had to claim her.

  The sharp knock at the door had his muscles clenching further in denial.

  “Rowdy, we have movement out here.” Dawg’s quiet voice was dark with imminent violence. “You in on this, man?”

  “No.” Kelly clutched at his shoulders as he moved back.

  Son of a bitch, if he caught the bastard stalking her he was going to rip him apart with his bare hands.

  “I’ll be back.” He pulled her jeans quickly back in place.

  “Don’t go out there,” she cried out, her face paling as her fingers gripped his arm. “It’s too dark Rowdy, and you don’t know where he could be hiding. Wait—”

  There wasn’t a chance in hell he wasn’t going out there.

  “You’re mine,” he snarled, sealing the claim with a hard kiss to her lips. “All mine, Kelly. And that bastard is going to figure that out at the end of my fist or my gun. I don’t care which.”

  He pulled away from her, jerking the door open and closing it before Dawg could see her, her sweet breasts rising over the lace of her bra, her pale face staring back at him with equal amounts of fear and anger.

  The fear was going to be gone.

  “Let’s go hunting.” He took the rifle Dawg handed to him and headed downstairs.

  TWENTY

  Kelly waited until nearly dawn for Rowdy, Dawg, and Natches to return to the house. Whatever or whoever had been out there had been determined not to be found. They had disappeared, leaving the three men with a growing, restless anger. And a determination to get her where they felt she would be protected.

  Despite her objections, Rowdy packed her clothes and loaded her into Dawg’s truck as the sun began to rise beyond the mountains.

  She was terrified, she admitted. Whoever was stalking her knew how to hide, which only made him more dangerous. The thought of Rowdy, or one of his cousins, paying for the danger stalking her was eating a bleeding wound into her soul.

  Finally, despite her objections and her demands that she simply leave town, the pickup pulled into the graveled road leading to Dawg’s house.

  Kelly knew the moment she saw the house why they had chosen Dawg’s as a secure location. She had forgotten about the house, built by Dawg’s parents, and set into the base of the mountain that ran through their property outside Somerset. He spent most of his time on his boat, so she hadn’t considered the house.

  The huge dwelling was set into the side of the mountain, with only the front left in view. Dawg’s father had designed and overseen its building, Ray had once said, claiming that he was determined to have the most unique home in the county. And it was that.

  It had been meant to be a vacation home, private, out of the way, and as unique as his parents had been. Though Rowdy had often wondered if Dawg’s father hadn’t been more than the architect he claimed to be. Ther
e were too many secrets in the Mackay family, he admitted, and one of these days, he was going to get to the bottom of them.

  The face of the house was warm wood, covering steel and cement, with large windows looking out from the kitchen on the left, and the large living room on the right.

  It wasn’t opulent, or expensively furnished, but it was a huge dwelling with four bedrooms, accompanied by private baths. There was an exercise room and a basement pantry–wine room larger than some apartments she had been in.

  The house was built in three levels—kitchen, living room, and exercise room on the ground level, bedrooms above on the top level, and the basement on a third level. She now understood why Dawg’s father, Chandler Mackay, had been considered one of the finest architects in the nation.

  It had been surprising when Dawg entered the Army then took over the lumberyard his father had owned. Everyone had expected him to step into his late father’s shoes and become an architect instead.

  Rowdy led her through the large open living room to the wide hallway that opened at the back of it. There, two sets of curved wooden steps led to the other levels. He moved aside as they reached the stairs that led to the upper level, allowing her to move ahead of him.

  The steps were narrow, but comfortable, and led into another short hallway and two open doors.

  “The left.” He nudged her toward the open door, his voice brooking no argument as they moved into the room.

  A huge king-sized bed took up the center of the room, draped with sheer curtains that hung from a steel ring in the center of the ceiling and tied at each corner of the bed.

  A dark wood dresser and chest, writing desk, and vanity table sat along the walls. Scenic pictures set in frames that resembled windows on the far side of the bed. Behind it, another door opened into what was obviously a large bathroom.

  “Nice,” she murmured as Rowdy moved in behind her and closed the door before setting her bags on the floor. He must have packed everything she had before they left his father’s house.

  “It suits Dawg.” He shrugged negligently. “Go ahead and get settled in, take a nap if you need to. We’ll go out to dinner later.”

  “I’d prefer to stay here.” She turned to him slowly, keeping her expression carefully bland.

  “Too bad.” He crossed his arms over his chest as he watched her, the dark gray T-shirt he wore stretching over his rippling muscles. “Dawg, Natches, and I decided we’re going to eat out.”

  “I want to be alone.” She pressed her lips firmly together. “I told you that.”

  The argument had raged for hours. She couldn’t believe his complete arrogance and stubbornness. He refused to leave her alone for even a second, and he wouldn’t hear of her leaving town without him. At this point, he wouldn’t even hear of her leaving town with him. She would have settled for that.

  “And I said, you can forget it,” he repeated, not for the first time as he dropped his arms and moved closer. Kelly stepped back, ignoring his dark frown. “Kelly, baby, you don’t have to worry like this, everything will be okay.”

  “Sure it will.” She smiled tightly. “That’s why we’re staying in a house that could likely defend against an attack from a foreign government and your cousins are packing in enough weapons to defend against an army.”

  “They’re for looks only,” he assured her. “We have a plan, I promise.”

  “Like you did the other night on the lake?”

  “Naw, that was just to see how rock-dumb that bastard could get. He’s dumb enough to need help breathing at this point. He won’t be that hard to catch.”

  Confidence gleamed in his eyes, even as dread burned in her belly.

  “He would have been caught by now if it were that easy.” She pushed her fingers through her hair as she shook her head. “You’re underestimating him, Rowdy.”

  “Maybe you’re underestimating me,” he grunted as his hands whipped out, pulling her into his embrace before she could avoid him.

  Heat instantly sizzled across her body, nearly taking her breath as he pressed the hard length of his erection against her belly.

  “Want me to help you shower?” He nuzzled his face against her neck, his tongue licking over her pulse erotically as his fingers clenched at her hips.

  Kelly gripped his shoulders, certain the weakness in her knees was going to become a permanent thing if he didn’t stop touching her so damned much. She needed to think; she didn’t need her mind clogged by his kiss, his passion.

  “I can manage alone.” Her voice was hoarse, despite the strength she attempted to inject into it.

  “Hmm.” He lifted his head, staring down at her knowingly before whispering, “I bet you can, but can you manage this alone?”

  His lips caught hers before she could do more than gasp, covering them, taking them as his tongue licked at the curves, tempting her to play with him.

  How she had always longed to play in just such a way with Rowdy. His lips tugged at hers as he stared down at her, his eyes heavy-lidded and darkening with sexual hunger. His tongue stroked over hers, retreated, then came back for more until she was moaning and reaching for him, desperate for the kiss he was teasing her with.

  “Hungry for me, baby?” His voice was dark velvet, rasping against her senses as she arched against him.

  “I’ve always been hungry for you,” she whispered, nipping back at his lips as his eyes narrowed, his expression becoming primitive, deepening with sexual energy as her hands smoothed from his shoulders to his chest and lower.

  She needed him. She had never pretended otherwise. She needed everything he was, everything he wanted and needed to give her.

  She gripped the material of his T-shirt, pulling it quickly from the band of his jeans as she allowed her nails to rake his flesh. The trembling response that raced over his body sent flashes of erotic heat tingling between her thighs.

  “Take the shirt off, Rowdy.” She pushed the hem to his chest before lowering her head, her lips pressing to the hair-spattered skin beneath the flat, hard male nipple that drew her attention. “I want you naked. I want you against me, inside me.”

  The shirt was jerked from his body and tossed aside. His expression darkened, his face flushing with hunger as he stared back at her.

  Kelly murmured her approval as she bent her head, licking around the tight, hard nipple that fascinated her. How she loved Rowdy’s lips on her breasts, his teeth scraping her own hard peaks.

  She raked over the tight point with a tentative little nip.

  “Son of a bitch.” He flinched, his hands gripping her hair, tightening in the strands before pressing her to him again. “Again, Kelly. God, baby, do it again.”

  She did that and more. She licked, sucked, rasped the point until she could feel a fine sheen of perspiration coating his chest and felt his breath heaving.

  She moved her fingers lower, struggling with the metal buttons of his jeans, dragging them free and spreading the material apart. He wore no underwear. Rowdy wasn’t an underwear-type man, and she knew it. Which suited her fine. It made it easier for the hard length of his cock to push free, rising nearly to his navel, thick and heavy, the head bloated and damp from the silky pre-come coating it.

  “Suck it.” His voice was a hard rasp as she licked a path down his chest to the hardened flesh below.

  “Patience is a virtue.” She could barely speak for the lust rising inside her.

  “Fuck patience,” he groaned, his hands tugging sensually at her hair. “God, baby, do you know how often I dream of watching you wrap your pretty mouth around my dick?”

  A punch of excitement convulsed her womb and sent a spasm of response trembling through her pussy.

  “You should have savored it last time,” she panted. “Maybe I don’t want to now.”

  But she did. She grasped the heavy weight of his erection as she used her other hand to push at the band of his jeans. A growl of impatience tore from his throat as he moved, toeing off his shoes before quickly
disposing of his jeans.

  Each second it took him to undress, her palm stroked his cock, up and down, tightening at the base before loosening and running up the silky shaft once more. Until his hands were in her hair again, clenching in the strands, sending darts of heat to rake across her scalp as lust slammed through her bloodstream. Prickles of sensation, of need, raced across her flesh as emotion erupted through her chest.

  Rowdy. She had dreamed of him, lusted for him, waited for him. Now, everything she had ever prayed for was being threatened because of one careless act on her part. Because she had waited. Because she had wanted Rowdy to seduce her rather than take her. Had she belonged to Rowdy before he left last year, then the attacker would have never targeted her. And she could have belonged to him. He would have tried to fight it, but he had wanted her as badly as he did now. He had hungered as much as she had.

  She lowered her head the last inches as she bent to him, taking the mushroomed head between her lips as her tongue stroked over the throbbing crest.

  “Oh fuck,” he growled, his hands tugging at her hair, pulling it just enough to light a sudden blinding flame of need inside her.

  She liked the pain. Not true pain, the spark of intensity, the erotic burn that emphasized the pleasure. She liked it, and she wanted more.

  Kelly wrapped her fingers around the shaft of his cock, pumping it with slow, measured strokes as she began to suckle the head with a growing hunger she could no longer control. She wanted to take all of him. Wanted to feel his cock pulse in her mouth, feel his semen spilling onto her tongue.

  “Here, sweetheart, let me help you take those clothes off.” His fingers were pulling at her shirt, tugging at her hands and her head until she released his flesh to have the shirt stripped from her body.

  “Come here, darlin’, turn right around for me.” Rowdy turned her as his hands stripped her jeans over her thighs before tugging them free of her legs as he slipped her shoes from her feet.

  His lips touched her thigh as he undressed her, her knee, his tongue licked, his teeth rasped.

  It was taking too long and it was taking forever and she was certain she was going to scream from sheer excitement as she felt him push her over the bed, his hard, callused hands parting her buttocks just before hungry lips began to caress the hidden flesh.