The Nauti Boys Collection

by Lora Leigh

  “Because you decree it?” Her eyes were fiery now, not just in anger, but in confrontation, in determination.

  Hell, he was getting hard. He could feel his arousal stretching to life, the ice that had encased his emotions beginning to melt as she glared back at him.

  “You can decree to hell and back, Natches, and it’s not going to do you one damned bit of good. You dragged me into this relationship, you’re the one that made damned sure my soul was so tied to yours that I couldn’t breathe without feeling you, and then you did everything in your power to help create life from it. Damn you, you’re not backing away now.”

  “Backing away was never in the cards.” He lowered his head and growled the words at her. “Did I say you could leave this relationship?”

  Her eyes widened and disbelief filled her face. And that made him grow harder, because the disbelief was filled with scornful amazement.

  “Oh my God, you take the cake.” Her hands went on her hips, and his cock just got harder still. “I can’t believe your complete arrogance.”

  “You should, you’ve dealt with it before.” He wasn’t budging. If he told her what he had planned, then she would just stick her nose into it. Her nose was far enough on the chopping block; he wasn’t going to allow it to go any farther.

  “You are not doing this without me!” The words were said with such snap that his brow lifted mockingly.

  “And you’re not going after him with me.” She’d lost enough in her life; he wasn’t going to allow her to lose any more. Not her life, or their child’s. And he knew that child was there, resting securely within her. He intended to make damned sure he kept that child safe. The child and his or her mother.

  “I’ve worked this case for five years,” she said furiously. “Five years, so you could come in with your lies and your damned charm and force me out of it? ‘Oh, Chay, I just admire your courage and strength,’” she sneered, her face twisting in fury. “Fuck you, Natches.”

  “And I didn’t lie.” His voice rose, unintentionally, fueled by the anger and the arousal rising inside him. “Do you think I don’t admire it? That I’d want to change a damned thing about you? I’m not trying to change anything, damn you, but I will protect you.”

  “Screw your protection.”

  He clenched his fists, not in rage, but to keep from touching her, to keep from jerking her to him and taking all the wild passion, driving into it until they both forgot the pain and the danger moving in on them.

  “Chay, don’t push me on this,” he growled back. Damn her, she was tearing him apart inside. He could see the betrayal in her eyes, the hurt, and he hated it. “This isn’t a fight you can be a part of.”

  “And it’s not a fight I’ll let you push me out of,” she yelled back.

  Turning, he watched as she stalked to the table and snapped her laptop shut. She gathered the files, stuffed them with the laptop in her case, then jerked her boots from the floor and sat on the couch.

  “What the hell are you doing?” He grabbed the boot from her hand and held it out of her reach as she came off the couch, fury stamped on her flushed features. “You’re not leaving here.”

  “The hell I’m not.” When she couldn’t jerk the boot out of his grasp, she pulled the case on her shoulder and moved to the door barefoot.

  “You can’t go outside without shoes. It’s cold out there.” He parked himself in front of the door as she stood before him, breasts heaving, her little fists clenched at her side as though she were actually going to use them on him.

  “Better the cold outside than the cold in here.” She slapped his chest. “Now get out of my way.”

  “Chay, you don’t want to keep this up,” he grated out. “Calm the hell down.”

  “Don’t you tell me to calm down, Natches Mackay.” A finger was in his face, pointing too close to his nose as he looked at it, then slowly looked up at her.

  “Put that finger down, Chay.” There was something about that finger in his face that made every male instinct inside him stand up in outrage.

  “Make me.” That finger jabbed into his chest. “Come on, tough ass. Make me. You’ve cheated everywhere else in this relationship, you might as well cheat here, too. What are you going to do? Tie me to the bed? Because damn you, that’s the only way you’ll keep me here.”

  SEVENTEEN

  There was something about that finger in his chest and the complete and total fury transforming Chaya’s expression that did it to him.

  “It” being completely wiping his mind of everything but possessing her. “It” being imagining her on her knees, naked, nipples tight, hard, and red, while he fucked that sarcastic little mouth with shallow thrusts.

  “It” being owning her soul because she owned his. He knew, even as he stood there mad as hell and fighting it, that there wasn’t a chance in hell he could keep her if he did this alone. And that just made him madder. Just made him hornier.

  “That finger is getting ready to get you in trouble,” he warned her softly.

  Her lips flattened, then she did something he would have never imagined. Something that had his eyes widening in shock. She lifted that cute little hand and her middle finger shot up like a flag.

  She didn’t have to say a word. Her expression said it all as she turned her back to him and began to move through the living room. Probably heading to the back deck door.

  Oh, that was just too bad.

  He jerked his boots off and let them thump to the floor as she reached the kitchen. And she kept going. His shirt came off as he moved after her, and he tossed it to the couch.

  And she knew. She threw a look over her shoulder and almost managed to run a step or two. Before she made it past the table his arm hooked around her waist and he dragged her to the stairs.

  And like the little hellion she was, she fought him. She kicked, she wiggled, she snarled, and he swore she bit his shoulder. But she wasn’t fighting hard enough. All that heavy breathing wasn’t just because she had her mad on. Hell no, she was as wet as he was hard, and he was betting his cock on that fact. Because that was the portion of his body that was going to fall off if he didn’t get it inside that hot little body of hers. Fast.

  He couldn’t remember a time that he had been so enraged and so aroused at the same time. He could feel his muscles pumping with blood, his dick throbbing like an open wound, his balls tight with lust.

  She wasn’t getting by with a single bout of anything today. Double helping, he thought. He was going to have that wet, impudent little mouth, and he was going to have that slick, heated little pussy, and when he was finished … hell, when he was finished, he was going to figure out how to give her what she needed and keep her safe at the same time.

  But he didn’t have to tell her that yet. Hell no. She was spitting mad and clawing at his shoulders, cursing him even as he tossed her to the bed and stripped his jeans off.

  Chaya tore off the shirt she wore, then the bra. She was certain the strap snapped at some point. As Natches stepped out of his jeans, she wiggled out of the leggings and panties and she was waiting on him.

  His shoulders were scratched from her fury, and she was certain she would be reasonably sorry for that later, but right now, smug possessiveness curled her lips instead.

  “I marked you,” she snarled at him as he stepped toward the bed.

  He smiled. A slow, lust-worthy curl of his lips that had a fist punch of reaction jerking in her stomach.

  “That’s okay, baby, because I’m sure I’ll mark you, too, before the night’s over.”

  She crawled to the edge of the bed and licked her lips, staring up at him from beneath her lashes and waiting. Anticipating.

  “I thought of you every time I used that toy.” She taunted him now and watched his eyes flare with wicked heat. “I sucked it until I could take it to my throat, and thought of you. I heard your groans in my head and I moaned around it as I touched myself.”

  “To your throat?” His voice was a raspy,
guttural growl.

  “To my throat. And I moaned.” She licked her lips as she lifted one hand from the bed and let it run down her body. “And I touched myself.” She touched herself now. Her fingers slid through the slick juices, circled her clit, and her lashes fluttered in pleasure.

  “Did you come?” He was closer, coming closer, his hand circling the thick shaft as the engorged crest tightened and throbbed in hunger.

  A small bead of pearly pre-cum dampened the tiny slit, drew her attention and her hunger.

  “I came,” she teased him. “I came and I moaned, and it wasn’t enough. Because it wasn’t you.”

  And she had needed him. Needed him until parts of her had felt barren and lost.

  He came closer, the head of his cock almost within reach.

  “You’re going to take me to your throat, Chay,” he warned her, his voice so rough, so deep it caused her knees to weaken, her heart to pound in her chest.

  “Make me, Natches.” She smiled, then her breath caught as she raked her finger over her clit, and knew he was aware of the pleasure she was bringing herself.

  One hand snaked out, catching her hair, tangling in it as he held her still. Her tongue swiped over the broad head and she moaned at the rich earthly taste of the liquid bead on her tongue. Passion infused with lust. A storm, heat and lightning. It filled her senses and drenched her fingers with her response.

  Then his cock was filling her mouth. Thick and iron hard, the head throbbing violently as he pushed inside her. Chaya moaned and heard his answering growl as she did what she promised. She took him to her throat, her tongue rippling beneath the underside as she relished the taste of him.

  One hand gripped his shaft, stroking it fiercely, determined to rip his control from him the same as he had managed to rip hers. Damn her, she had never given anyone, man or woman, the finger. That was what he did to her. He made her crazy. He made her insane to have him, made her want to fight and love him.

  And God help her, how she loved him.

  “Damn you,” he snarled as she lifted her lashes and stared up at him, taking him as deep as she could as she touched herself, stroked herself. “Your mouth is illegal, Chay.”

  She would have smiled, but she whimpered instead. Because she needed him, hungered for him. Because she wanted to taste his release, glory in it.

  She sucked him harder, flicked her tongue over the head as he fucked into her mouth, and swallowed him deep.

  “Hellion.” He pushed the fingers of both hands into her hair, tightened and pulled, and she moaned again, knowing the sound was vibrating against his cock head and glorying in his response.

  “Sweet Chay.” Sweat drenched his face, his shoulders. It ran down his neck in tiny rivulets and dampened the hair that fell over his face.

  He looked like a pirate. He felt like a pirate, because he had stolen her heart and her soul and she didn’t want them back. She just wanted his in return.

  “Sweet.” He groaned, his lashes lowering, a dark flush on his cheeks as his lips appeared heavier, fuller, more sensual. “Sweet Chay. Suck it, baby. Suck it deep.”

  She drew him deep, moaned, licked, and felt the warning throb of his impending release. His abdomen tightened, sweat rolled down it, and a second later his head tilted back, his jaw clenched, and her name tore from his throat as he exploded.

  Hot, rich, a taste of salt and man and the storm rising and he was filling her mouth with it, making her drunk on him. She took each furious blast and whimpered in loss as he pulled free of her.

  “Enough.” He pulled her hand free of the pulsing flesh of her pussy a second before her own loss.

  Her eyes snapped open. “I was ready to come,” she almost howled as he flipped her to her back.

  “Yeah. I know.” His grin was pure wicked male. “If you want to come, baby, all you have to do is ask nicely.”

  “Asshole!” She grabbed his hair as he moved between her thighs and pulled. Pulled until his lips were buried in the tormented flesh and her legs were wrapped around his shoulders.

  “Oh God. Yes. Damn you, Natches.” She arched, her shoulders grinding into the mattress as his tongue dove deep inside the clenching depths of her core.

  And he licked. “Oh yes. I love it. Love it when you do that.” Her head thrashed; her fingers dug into his hair.

  He licked and lapped inside her like he was eating candy and loving every minute of it. She was dying. Right there in his arms, she was dying and she didn’t know how to stop it. She didn’t know how to handle the burn or the violence of her response to his touch.

  She was twisting against him, mewling in need as his hand landed on her rear. The rough little caress only made her burn brighter.

  “More.” She twisted. She arched. “Oh God, Natches. More.”

  He gave her more. More of the rough caresses, the heated little smacks over her butt, and more of those delicious licks inside her. Then outside her. Then around her clit. He sucked the little bud into his mouth, and she exploded into fragments.

  She screamed his name, pulsed and shattered, and before she could catch her breath, he pushed her legs apart, rose above her, and buried his cock inside her.

  Full length. One hard thrust. He pushed inside her with hungry demand, her name on his lips as he began to thrust hard and fast. Stroking and fucking inside her and sending her crashing into wave after wave of fiery release.

  And he didn’t stop. She was burning, drenched in both their perspiration when he pulled free of her, flipped her on her stomach, and lifted her rear.

  And he was pushing inside her again.

  “Take all of me.” He groaned, coming over her, his fingers lacing with hers as he held her beneath him. “Feel me, Chay. Feel all of me and I know I belong to you.”

  Her head tipped back as his teeth scraped her neck and he surged inside her again. Again. He pounded inside her until she shattered, flew, until she swore her soul left her body and merged with his as she felt the violent, harsh pulses of his semen shooting inside her.

  If she wasn’t pregnant yet, she knew she was now. She could feel it, that bonding, a connection she had never believed she could feel with another human being. And yet, with Natches, he had given her no choice. He had stolen her heart. Made her a part of him, and now, the fight was over for it. That didn’t mean he was getting his way though.

  “I love you,” she whispered as he collapsed over her, his head lying against her shoulder, his eyes opening to meet hers as she turned her head to stare back at him. “With my soul, Natches Mackay, I love you.”

  Natches sighed heavily as he forced himself to pull from her, grimacing in pleasure at the heated friction along his cock.

  Lowering himself beside her, he pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips against the top of her head.

  “I love you until, sometimes, I wonder if I can breathe without you now,” he told her then, staring into the sunlit expanse of the bedroom as he caressed her back with one hand.

  She was still and silent against his chest, though he knew that indomitable will of hers was still firmly in place. She was the strongest person he had ever known in his life, and he wanted nothing more than to allow her to be weak.

  And that was the redneck in him, he knew it was. The man who wanted to protect his woman against any and all threats. To be a partner until danger rolled around. But he had chosen a woman who refused to hide from danger.

  That courage she possessed terrified him.

  “Dayle Mackay is dangerous,” he said softly, staring at the ceiling now, his brow creasing into a frown as he let the memories of his childhood wash over him.

  He didn’t do that often. The past was just that, it was the past. When he had met Chaya, seeing her courage and her will to laugh had somehow helped him to dull those memories, but nothing could eradicate them.

  “Dayle wanted a carbon copy of himself in a son,” he stated. “A bully without a conscience, and one he could control. He didn’t have much luck with me. I was a
smart-mouthed little bastard eaten up with rage. I defied him every chance I had, and I gloried in it, even when he was taking his fists to me.”

  That had been his relationship with the man he refused to call father.

  “You’re not facing him alone.” Her voice was soft, sweet, it was tinged with emotion and struck a bolt of feeling inside him that had him closing his eyes against the strength of it.

  “There’s no other way to face him, but alone.” He sighed. “That’s what it’s come down to here, Chay. Just me and Dayle. I’ve avoided him, I’ve put it off. Hell, I should have just killed the son of a bitch before I met you, like I wanted to. But Uncle Ray would have felt as though he failed to raise me right, and Rowdy and Dawg, well, they would have had something to say about it.”

  Not much. But they would have said something, Natches thought.

  He should have felt an edge of sorrow, hell, he should have felt guilt over the fact that it would be that easy to kill a man. But Dayle Mackay wasn’t a man—he was a monster.

  Yet, he still hadn’t killed him, and Natches was never certain what stopped him from doing it. Maybe because until now, Dayle had never really done anything evil, even though Natches had known he was evil.

  And he wasn’t going to kill him now. Not unless Dayle gave him no other choice.

  “You can give me the silent treatment until hell freezes over.” She lifted her head and stared him in the eye. “But you’re not doing this alone.”

  He, Dawg, Rowdy, and Ray had come up with the plan while Chaya slept. Their voices quiet to keep from disturbing her, their minds made up.

  Natches knew the one thing Dayle had always wanted from him. Loyalty. It came down to something that simple. From the time Natches had been small, Dayle had been enraged at his affection for Ray and the two cousins he hadn’t even known until they started school together. They had been instantly drawn to each other. And Natches had begun slipping away from his own home and sneaking to Ray’s.

  He and Dawg had been fascinated by Ray Mackay’s gentle if sometimes gruff demeanor.