by Lora Leigh
“How did you do that?” She turned back to him, pretending to ignore the fact that he was mouthwateringly sexy as he lay on the flowered comforter of her bed.
“It’s a piece of cake,” he grunted. “The window locks aren’t a lot harder to release. Until I can get the contractor out here to add to the security, you’re stuck with me.”
His expression was determined, stubborn. It was easy to tell when Rowdy had made up his mind. His expression went completely bland and his sea green eyes turned as cool as the arctic.
“Fine.” She shrugged. “You sleep here and I’ll sleep in your bed. No biggie.” She moved for the door.
“Open that door, Kelly, and your mom and my dad are going to get dragged into this little disagreement we’re having. Is that really what you want?”
Damn.
She stopped halfway to the door before turning back to him.
“Whose side would they take?” She opened her eyes wide, with mocking innocence. “Now I wonder, what will they think about the little proposal you put to me earlier?”
He tilted his head, his eyes glittering with lust, with amused hunger.
“Dad would probably kick my ass out of the house,” he growled good-naturedly. “Is that what you really want?”
She turned away from him, restraining the urge to kick his butt herself. He was right. Ray would likely skin his hide if he ever learned of his son’s proposal.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t expected it. She had. She had looked forward to it. How was that for some sick shit? She had actually looked forward to the day Rowdy would return and make good on the promise his kiss had made years ago.
And she had known if he did, the possibility of just such a proposal would come. She had been ready for it. Prepared for it. What she hadn’t expected was the cold-blooded intention he had of using it to catch her would-be rapist. As though the act no longer had anything to do with the two of them. As though the desire, the need, and the hunger were a means to an end and nothing more. It was without feeling, without emotion. And God help her, whenever she was around Rowdy, she felt nothing but emotion. Swirls of it. Lava-hot, lightning forks of sensation that rippled over her nerve endings, rendering even the air itself a caress against her sensitive flesh.
And emotions? Oh, she didn’t even want to go there. Except she was already there. Arousal, uncertainty, fear of the unknown, and a fear of losing the dream in the face of reality.
He was asking her to choose. She had wanted to be seduced.
She turned back to him, drawing in a slow, deep breath, her head lifting as she stared at the confident, cool countenance he presented to her.
“Get out of my bedroom.” She crossed her arms over her breasts, pressing her lips together as she glared at him. “I’m not one of the Nauti Boys’ playthings. And I’m not in the mood for games. Not yours or anyone else’s.”
She watched the surprise gleam in his eyes for just a second. For the first time in all the years she had known him, she had never surprised him, until now.
With a ripple of muscle, he moved from the bed, his gaze never leaving hers as he rose, coming to his feet and walking around the bed.
He was aroused. The thick length of his erection tented his sweatpants, drew her eyes and made her mouth water. She had fantasized about that erection. About all the things a woman could do with such a prime piece of flesh.
She let her eyes linger on the proof of that arousal before lifting them to his face again. He was close. So close she could smell the clean, male scent of him. Dial soap and heated male arousal.
She stood still as he stalked around her, the movements deliberate, predatory. Suddenly he wasn’t the laid-back, patiently amused Rowdy she had always known. She could feel the purpose, the male intent that poured from him.
Her breath caught as he paused behind her, his hand reaching up to allow his fingers to smooth her hair back over her shoulder, to bare the shell of her ear.
“You’re mine.” She jumped at his whispered response. “And, baby, I do like to play.” His hands ran down her arms, creating a friction of heat as she felt his lips at her shoulders. “I guess that makes you my playmate, if not my plaything.”
Her eyes widened a second before she jerked out of his hold, turning back to him furiously.
“I don’t think so.” She gave him a tight, angry smile.
Stupid male confidence, she fumed.
He tilted his head, the beginnings of a smile twitching at the corners of his lips.
“I could convince you.”
No doubt.
She snorted as though it weren’t possible. Unfortunately, he probably could convince her, but at what cost to her soul?
“Go get in your own bed, Rowdy. Don’t make me cause a scene. Ray wouldn’t like it.” She walked to hers, flipping back the blankets and moving into the comfort of the mattress, ignoring him as though he didn’t matter. “Good night.”
He chuckled. “You’ve changed,” he murmured as he paced to the other side of the bed, staring down at her, aroused, determined.
“I haven’t changed at all, Rowdy.” She pulled the blankets to her waist as she sat propped against the pillows. “Perhaps you just never really knew me.” She raised her brows in emphasis. “That’s always a possibility.”
“You enjoyed waking up with me,” he accused. “You don’t want to throw me out.”
That one was a no-brainer. No, she didn’t want to throw him out. She wanted to curl against him and sleep as fearlessly as she had the night before and awaken as warm and protected as she had that morning.
She lifted her chin, refusing to answer him, fighting to hold his knowing stare as he watched her from beneath the veil of his thick, black lashes.
“Go play with someone else.” She might have to kill him if he tried. “I’m not interested in the games.”
“And you think this is a game?” He scowled down at her, his hands bracing on his powerful hips as his eyes began to simmer with irritation.
“I think it is for you,” she answered somberly. “And I’m not a game. Don’t play games with me, Rowdy. Not now, not ever.”
TEN
Rowdy leaned forward, muscular arms propping him up on the mattress as he stared into her eyes. Kelly fought the need to glance away from him, to deny the hold he had on her. There was no turning away from him. He mesmerized her, made her hungry, made her need.
“I’m not scared of you, Rowdy,” she tried to smirk back at him. “Don’t try to intimidate me.”
“If you don’t like the games, then don’t play them.” His voice was dangerously, warningly soft. “You want something from me, then tell me what you want.”
Her teeth clenched in anger.
“Fine,” she snapped. “I want you out of my bedroom and out of my face. Go away.” She made a shooing motion with her hand then stared at him in shock as his hand whipped out, catching her wrist.
Her heart jumped to her throat as he brought her fingers to his mouth, rubbed them against the velvet roughness of his lips before opening them and licking over the pads with a subtle flick of his tongue.
She was helpless. Struck dumb by the sheer sensuality of watching him caress nothing but her fingertips. Feeling the warmth of his lips, the flickering heat of his tongue, the sensual nip of his teeth.
Each caress sent flares of heat exploding with sensual devastation throughout her body. Her nipples were so hard, the nerves there so sensitized, that they were sending rippling flares of response straight to her womb, convulsing it with an erotic punch of pleasure.
“Rowdy…” She was shocked at the whimper in her voice, at her inability to pull away from him.
He came closer. Kneeling on the bed, still holding her hand, he pulled her to him until she was on her knees facing him.
He took her other wrist, placing her palms against his chest before his hands smoothed up her arms, over her shoulders, down her back to her hips. She trembled, shuddering at the light caress; it could h
ave been firmer, could have been more destructive. It was subtle instead. Soft. Giving her the chance to break away, knowing she couldn’t. That she wouldn’t.
“You’re mine,” he whispered again as his head lowered.
She stared back at him, fighting to breathe, fighting against the desires raging inside her. She was helpless against his touch, against the hunger that gleamed in his eyes.
Just as she became helpless against his kiss.
His lips covered hers, slowly at first. So slowly, too slowly. They stroked over hers, his tongue flickering out to lave them a second before his teeth caught the lower curve, nipping at it as he watched her.
Her breathing hitched as she felt his hands bunch in the material of the gown at her hips. It drew slowly up her thighs, working over her flesh, baring her to his hands.
“Easy,” he whispered against her lips. “Just feel, Kelly. Feel for me. Burn for me…”
She felt cool air caress her thighs, then his hands against her naked flesh, callused, heated, as his lips slanted over hers and he stole her mind with his kiss.
Deep, drugging kisses. Pleasure tore through her system, consumed her to the point that the knowledge that she was being lowered, laid beneath him, barely registered in her mind. All she knew was the pleasure. The feel of his hard body above her, his hands smoothing over her bare thighs, her hips, then working on the tiny buttons at the bodice while his kisses ravished her lips.
She was drowning in him. The taste of him. His touch. The muted male sounds of hunger and pleasure as she began to touch him. She needed to touch him. To immerse herself in every sensual sensation she could consume. Her nervous system was rioting with the chaotic impulses rushing through them. The air around them became heated, steamy with the desperation that infused each kiss, each touch.
“God, you taste sweet.” His lips tore from hers, his breathing heavy, hard, as they moved to her neck.
She tilted her neck, panting for air as she felt his teeth rake down the sensitive column, then felt the brush of cool air over her naked breasts.
As his head lifted, she opened her eyes, staring back at him in dazed fascination as his gaze dropped. He had pulled apart the unbuttoned edges of her gown, displaying the swollen, hard-tipped mounds of her breasts.
The expression on his face was pure, carnal hunger. His eyes heavy-lidded, his lips moist and swollen from their kisses, his cheekbones flushed a brick red.
As though suspended between dream and reality, she watched as his head lowered, her eyes widening, a strangled groan leaving her lips as his tongue covered one spiked, aroused nipple.
Reaction shot through her, jerking at her body as her hands tightened on his neck, her back arching. This was heaven. It was ecstasy. The most pleasure she had ever known in her life.
His tongue lashed at the hard point as he sucked the flesh into his mouth, drawing on her deeply, creating a pleasure–pain sensation that had a startled cry leaving her lips.
Lips he immediately covered, stilling the aroused cries as his fingers replaced his mouth. Tweaking at the tender tips, causing her to writhe beneath him as she fought to get closer, to still the ache burning between her thighs.
“Shh. Easy.” His groan was whispered against her lips, his voice dark, desperate. “Damn, Kelly. I can’t take you here. Dad will kill me.”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t.” His chest pressed against her breasts, rasped her nipples so she fought to breathe. “Don’t stop, Rowdy, please.”
His hand smoothed down to her thigh, his fingers close, so close to where she needed them. She gazed back at him pleadingly, feeling her vagina ripple with need, the muscles clenching in desperation.
“If I take you, you’re going to scream,” he whispered, his eyes darkening, a ravenous lust filling his expression. “I want to hear every cry that leaves your lips, Kelly. Every scream as you come around me. I can’t do that here. We can’t do that here. You know that.”
She shook her head, a weak whimper passing her lips.
“I’ve waited too long, Rowdy.”
“Shh.” His kiss was gentle and much too short as he eased her gown over her thighs and then covered her breasts once again. “Tomorrow. We’ll go out on the boat,” he whispered, pushing her hair back before moving slowly to her side and pulling her into his arms.
She laid her head against his chest, fighting to regulate her breathing, to tear herself back from the endless spiral of heat he had thrown her into.
“That wasn’t fair,” she whispered as he lifted the sheet over them. “You’re supposed to be sleeping in your own bed.”
She was too weak to make him move now, too desperate for his touch, any touch, to force him from her bed.
“Go to sleep.” His arms contracted around her. “I’d be fighting shadows if I slept away from you, Kelly. Let me hold you. Know you’re okay.”
She pressed her lips to his chest. “It wasn’t your fault, Rowdy,” she told him softly, wondering at the edge of remorse she heard in his voice.
He was silent, but his hands still stroked her back, soothing now, where seconds before they had been arousing.
“Just let me hold you,” he repeated. “Sleep beside me, Kelly. We’ll argue out the rest of it later.”
“You want me to sleep?” She sighed, shaking her head. “Rowdy, I’m never going to sleep with your hard-on poking at my belly all night.”
“Sure you can,” he chuckled at her ear. “You need your rest, baby. Because tomorrow night, I really wouldn’t bet on you getting any sleep at all.”
She was silent then, lying against him, feeling his arms surrounding her, protecting her. God, what was she doing? She had lived and breathed for the day Rowdy would return and see her as more than just a pesky little girl. That he would see her as a woman, as his woman. And here he was, ready to claim her, and she was fighting it, fighting him. Or was she fighting herself?
“This isn’t a game, Kelly.” His voice was soft, surrounding her, causing her eyelids to flutter in pleasure as it stroked over her senses. “I’m deadly serious about this. About us. I wasn’t joking when I said you were mine. I came home to claim you, if that’s what you still want.”
“Maybe it doesn’t work that way, Rowdy. I want you until I can’t think, can’t breathe. But you’re different now.”
“I’m no different than I’ve ever been and you know it.” His voice hardened. “You don’t like the fact that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to protect you. You want everything tied up in roses and sweet promises. I can give you that, to a point. But I won’t ignore the danger. And you have to accept that. This will be taken care of.”
He wasn’t angry; he wasn’t trying to convince her. He was telling her.
“You’re talking about using me. Me and whatever we share between us sexually, flaunting it in front of him to provoke him.” That terrified her more than she wanted to admit.
“It’s the quickest way to finish this.”
“Maybe the quickest way isn’t always the best.” She didn’t know if she wanted to take that step, if she wanted to force a madman’s hand.
“Or maybe you think you can hide whatever this relationship brings.” His voice hardened. “Do you believe that’s possible, Kelly? Whether you make the choice to immerse yourself in everything I can give you, or not, doesn’t make a difference. Everyone is going to believe you are. He’ll believe you are. My plan will just flush him out quicker, that’s all. But we’ll play it however you choose.”
She didn’t like the easy, matter-of-fact way he said that. She could feel a “but” in there somewhere, she just had to find it.
“You could have at least tried to hide that part of your sex life from the world,” she finally sighed with an edge of irritation.
“Why?” He sounded genuinely curious now. “Kelly, I’m who I am. I don’t hide that, from anyone. I don’t flaunt it. I don’t advertise it. Others have. What happens between you and me I expect will stay between you and me. You don
’t advertise yourself, and you won’t advertise our relationship. Why should we do without something we might enjoy because of what others suspect, or think?”
She hated it when he pulled logic into his arguments with her. He had always done that.
“Because I’m scared,” she whispered, rolling away from him to sit on the side of the bed.
“Of me?”
“Of myself. Of what could happen.” She moved to her feet, pacing away from the bed as she rubbed at the chill that rushed over her arms. “You’re talking about pushing someone who isn’t sane. And in the same breath…” She shook her head.
“I’m asking you to make a decision,” he finished for her. “Not about your safety but about something much more important to you. Your sexuality.”
“I’m still a virgin.” Her laughter was self-mocking. “I expected something a little more romantic, Rowdy.”
“And you deserved something a hell of a lot more romantic, Kelly.” He sighed. “But catching this stalker is more important than romance. And I’m not going to play games with you. From the beginning, we won’t be alone. If it doesn’t happen for you with Dawg and Natches, then we have to at least give the impression of it. We can’t afford to let this guy catch us unawares, I can’t afford to let him hurt you again, because God as my witness, my sanity won’t survive it, Kelly.”
“God!” She pushed her fingers through her hair, turning from him, trying to ignore the fact that she wasn’t insulted, wasn’t offended or furious. “You’re not talking about this thing with your cousins being a one-time deal, are you?” She kept her back to him, kept her expression hidden.
“No. I’m not.”
The rumors had started when they were in their teens. Three young men with charisma and sexuality, who had been the downfall of a local divorcée. It had begun then, at an age that none of the three men would reveal. Too young, Rowdy knew. But damn, it had been hot that summer, and not just from the sun. Loren Barnes had been a quiet, schoolmarmish lady on the outside, but inside she had been hotter than fireworks in July.
She had taken three uncertain virgin boys and, in a few short months, taught them to be men well before their time. All together. All at once. One soft female body, her approval and cries of pleasure penetrating their lust-hazed minds as they took her lessons and drove her to the brink of passion with them.