The Nauti Boys Collection

by Lora Leigh

  “Taste you,” he murmured, those pouty lips holding his attention as he allowed his thumb to rake across the lower curve. “I’ve spent two days remembering the taste of your kiss, the feel of your lips against mine, then wrapped so snug around my cock. I didn’t get enough, Rogue. I need more.”

  Another shudder raked through her body. The tremor was hard, telling. Her thighs relaxed against him despite the anger in her eyes and the refusal he could see hovering on her lips.

  “Tell me to leave again and I won’t return,” he warned her harshly, his lips lowering again to brush hers as he spoke. “Anything is negotiable but that. Tell me to leave, and it will be over before it begins.”

  Her breathing hitched. Shadows of indecision filled her eyes as she stared back at him.

  “Don’t do this to me if you expect me to act like your other women in public, Zeke. Pretending we’re not touching, that we’re nothing to each other. I can’t do that. I’m not some whore you’re buying and can just walk away from before the sun comes up.”

  It would be so much easier if that were the case. But he already knew it wasn’t. He had known as he stared down at her two days ago, his erection filling her mouth. She had never gone down on a man before. She had never taken his release and she had never known the stinging rejection he’d dealt her moments later. Or the regret that dug into his guts like a knife each time he thought of how he must have hurt her.

  He doubted she had ever faced a relationship with a man who demanded as much from a woman as he knew he could demand from her. So much that his first wife had refused to sleep with him for years.

  “I don’t have relationships,” he told her. “I’ve not had a relationship since I returned here from L.A., Rogue, for a reason.”

  “Gossip?” she sneered.

  He smiled at that. “I never gave a damn what anyone thought. I cared more about making certain I never allowed myself to be caught in a loveless relationship or that no other woman ever paid for my sins as my wife did. If no one knew who I was fucking or thought I cared about who I was fucking, then they were safe.”

  He watched her gaze flicker then, those beautiful violet eyes watching him intently as he held her hands against the wall.

  “You’re involved in an investigation,” she whispered. “Joe and Jaime were mixed up in something, weren’t they?”

  He couldn’t, he wouldn’t discuss this. Not here. Not yet. He shook his head instead. “I don’t know what they were involved in, Rogue. But being careful is a part of me. Protecting you will always be a priority with me. You’ll have to accept that. There’s no other choice.”

  She stared up at him, her eyes wide, lips parted. “I make my own choices.”

  “I’m not an easy lover,” he told her softly then. “I’m not the type of the man that will watch his woman flirt and laugh with other men, that will allow other men to touch her with anything approaching intimacy, with any semblance of grace. You’re a young woman, Rogue. Sweet and flirty and filled with life.”

  “And I know how to be a woman,” she informed him fiercely. “And I know the rules of the game, Zeke. You won’t own me any more than I expect to own you.”

  Zeke felt his stomach flex, his muscles tightening at the look in her eyes. Frustration and heated anger filled her gaze. She was a woman ready to explode in his hands, and how he touched her, how he treated her would decide if she exploded in pleasure, or in rage.

  “There will be no other men.” He leaned closer, letting her feel the determination, the arousal filling him. He couldn’t let her feel his hands shaking, he wouldn’t let her feel the adrenaline and need burning inside him. Touching her was like a shock of electricity that sang through his body, leaving every nerve on high alert.

  “There are no other men now,” she argued back. “You can’t change who or what I am. I own a bar. I talk, I laugh, and I dance, and you won’t change that.”

  And he had suspected that. Could he accept it? Could he get past the possessiveness that rose inside him like a sharp-toothed monster waiting to tear into any other man who even thought about touching her?

  Zeke stared down at her, unwilling to delve too much into what he knew were deeply imbedded possessive traits. What was his belonged solely to him. He wasn’t a man that could or would share the woman he allowed fully into his life.

  And to have Rogue, he would have to allow her fully into his life. There was no other answer. Some part of him, a part that clenched his chest and left him aching for her long into the night, warned him that fully in his life was exactly where he wanted her to be.

  It was a problem he would have to tackle later. It was a worry that had gnawed at his mind far longer than he wanted to admit. It was one of the concerns that had held him back in the past years, that had kept him from taking what he knew he could convince Rogue to give him.

  “I tried to stay away from you.” He had to taste her flesh. Zeke lowered his head, his lips pressing beneath her jaw, right there, where the flesh was so tender, where her pulse beat erratically.

  He licked at the flesh, felt her shiver. His teeth raked over it, and he needed more. The taste of her was incredible. The sound of her breath catching, the feel of her melting in his arms was addictive.

  God, he needed her. The need was like a fever devouring his insides. He ached for her. Ached clear to his soul for something he didn’t even know how to name.

  Drawing back, his hand framed her neck, not threateningly, possessively.

  “You’ll belong to me.”

  Rogue’s eyes widened, her heart raced. She had never seen this expression on a man’s face, in his eyes. Zeke was staring at her as though his look alone would brand her. The flesh was stretched tight over his cheekbones and lust made his eyes gleam with an intent that had her fighting to breathe.

  She couldn’t let herself hope, but she couldn’t help but hope that she would mean more to him than his other lovers had. How could she let herself believe that? Wasn’t she the one who had sat and listened to several of those past lovers cry into their beers over him? Would she be next?

  “You don’t mean that.” Rogue shook her head slowly, hearing it in his voice, seeing the possessiveness in his eyes.

  “Do you think I don’t mean it, Rogue?”

  A shiver raced down her spine as his hand caressed down her throat to her collarbone, and she shivered in reaction. A reaction that was both physical as well as emotional. Fingers and palm flat, he touched her completely; not an inch of his palm didn’t touch her.

  Swallowing tightly, she felt sensation wash over her. His voice stroking her senses, his hand on her flesh, sensitizing her, reminding her of the pleasure of his kiss, his touch. Reminding her of all the fantasies, the dreams she’d had of this man.

  Anticipation and excitement had her shaking. Her heart raced out of control, and she even hoped, though she knew better than to allow herself that commodity. She hoped, maybe, he would care for her, just a little. That the emotions that rose inside her whenever she thought of him, saw him, would be returned in some small measure.

  She couldn’t resist allowing her head to fall back to the wall as his fingers, his hand, slid to the rise of her breasts, revealed by the violet lace that peeked over the top of the deeply cut vest.

  “Leather and lace.” The words were grating, rasping from his throat with primitive arousal. “Do you know what that does to a man?”

  She licked her lips slowly, aching for more of him. “Maybe it just does it to you.”

  He shook his head slowly, his fingers flicking the first button of the vest open. “Not just me, baby. Every man that sees you lusts for you. It’s in his face, in his eyes. That lace peeking over the leather. It makes a man want to tame you.”

  The second button slid open. Then the third, second by second the snug material of the butter-soft leather vest loosened until the edges hung open and the lacy camisole was revealed and another part of her resistance fell away.

  She wore no bra. Her
breasts swelled, her nipples hardening further beneath his gaze as he brushed the edges of the vest aside.

  “Last chance,” he said, his voice soft, deep. “Tell me to leave, Rogue. If I stay, you don’t know the things I’ll ask of you.”

  “Maybe.” She swallowed tightly as she fought to breathe. “Maybe you should be the one to make that decision, Zeke. I’m not a child. And never imagine I don’t know what I want.”

  She wanted all of him. She wanted that assurance in his eyes that the wildness rising inside her would be harnessed, would be satiated. She wanted the heat rising inside her quenched. She wanted to experience the wild hunger and need she glimpsed in his eyes.

  That hunger poured through her when his lips lowered to hers. They covered hers, his tongue pressing past them as he stole her breath. Nothing had ever made her more aware of the restlessness, the wildness that filled her than this kiss. The feel of his lips stroking over hers, the pleasure cascading through her body, rushing through her veins.

  Hard, calloused palms cupped her breasts; confident, knowing fingers raked over her nipples. Pleasure shot from the tender tips to scatter over her nerve endings. Like tiny implosions, a rush of sensation that had her gasping and arching closer to the warmth of his hands. This was incredible. Oh God, how had she waited so long for his touch?

  She lifted her hands from her sides, plowed them into the short strands of his hair, and tried to force him to kiss her deeper, harder. Tongues twining, lips melding.

  It was incredible. The rush of adrenaline through her veins, the heat that seared her flesh. This was what she dreamed of in the deepest part of the night.

  The surge of pleasure that tore from her nipples to her clit, that swelled the little bud between her thighs and set it to throbbing in a hard, hot tempo. Perspiration dampened her flesh and she swore she could feel his touch beneath her skin.

  “No.” She grabbed his head as his lips lifted. He was going to stop now? Right when she could feel the rising crescendo of pleasure whipping through her pussy, heating it, sending her juices flowing between her thighs?

  She found her hands caught in the grip of one of his again. He pressed them back against the wall, over her head, as she forced her lashes open and stared into the dark, taut lines of his expression.

  “Damn, you’re like dynamite.” His free hand slid low on her stomach, then caressed back up, sliding beneath the camisole as she sucked in a hard, moaning breath.

  Calloused fingers rasped over her flesh, sending waves of sensation washing through her. The pleasure was almost violent. It was incredible. The way it struck against her nerve endings, caused them to jerk, to press more fully against him as he held her, hands bound, his body pressing her against the wall.

  “Look at your face,” he whispered. “One of these days I’ll take you in front of a mirror where you can see how good it is.”

  In front of a mirror? She blushed at the thought, and Rogue wasn’t prone to blushes. Except with Zeke. Just thinking about him could make her blush.

  Her gaze dropped to where his hand cupped her breast over the camisole, lifting it, pressing the swollen mound up until it appeared to want to spill over the edge of the lace.

  “I want your nipple in my mouth, Rogue.”

  Her eyes jerked up, widened, and right there she lost her breath. A gasp left her lips and the moan that fell from them shocked her.

  “Do you want your nipple in my mouth, sweetheart?” The hard shiver that raced up her spine shocked her.

  “Do I have to beg for it?” she asked, amazed at the sultriness of her voice. “Gee, Zeke, here you’ve gone all dominant on me just to start asking permission now.”

  “Smart-ass.” His lips quirked into the sexiest little grin, even as his golden brown eyes seemed to flare with heat.

  A second later the lacy cup of the camisole was pushed beneath her breast and his head lowered. Hot, firm lips surrounded her nipple. Rasping, ecstatic pleasure surrounded the sensitive tip as she strained against his grip.

  She needed to touch him. She was desperate to touch him, to feel him. To feel more of this. To hold his head closer to her breast, to force her throbbing nipple deeper into his mouth. She wanted to feel him sucking her harder, feel his teeth scraping.

  “Oh God. Zeke.” She felt it. His teeth rasping over the tender tip, sending a flood of sensation racing to her clit and the depths of her pussy.

  Her muscles spasmed inside, clenched, and a sense of emptiness overwhelmed her.

  She tried not to watch him. Watching his lips tugging at her breast, feeling his tongue curl around the swollen tip triggered sensations that bit into her womb with sharp, erotic teeth as her heart pounded out of control.

  But she was still in control. She assured herself she was. Until his lashes lifted, then his knee bent and pressed between her thighs as he lowered his arm and pulled her hips forward.

  Oh Lord, have mercy. The butter-soft leather slid over denim, pressing his thigh firmly against the swollen, sensitive flesh of her pussy until she was riding his thigh.

  It was exquisite. It was the most pleasure Rogue had ever known in her life, and she was desperate for more. She whimpered at the need, at the pleasure.

  She wanted to hold him to her, desperate to feel every sensation, every chaotic emotion raging through her. This was Zeke, and she had waited so long, had dreamed for so long.

  “Let me touch you,” she moaned, straining against the hold he had on her wrists as his head lifted, his lips raking over the valley between her breasts. He nudged the camisole over her other breast, kissed around the enflamed tip of her nipple, and without answering or giving in to her plea, drew it into his mouth.

  There was no such thing as control in Zeke’s arms. There was only this. Flashpoints of pleasure that seared her, left her trembling, damp with perspiration, and shaking as his hand slid down her stomach to the low-rise band of her pants.

  The snap and zipper were dealt with quickly, efficiently. The edges spread apart as he slid his thigh back and pressed his hand inside.

  Rogue froze. Even the breath seemed suspended in her lungs as his fingers inched lower, lower.

  She was slick and wet. She could feel it against the crotch of the thong she wore. The swollen inner lips were heated, slick, bare of curls, and awaiting his touch.

  His fingers paused just above her clit. His head lifted from her breast with one last lick to her hypersensitive nipple.

  “Are you a virgin?”

  The question shocked her. It tore through her mind with all the implications of the truth that might cause him to walk away from her.

  “Oh really, Zeke,” she chided breathlessly, weakly. “I’m a bar owner and a biker chick. Do you really think I’m a virgin?”

  Brave last words. She almost snorted at her own daring in lying to him. It wasn’t as though he wouldn’t find out the truth soon enough if this continued.

  The sharp little nip to her lips and the narrowing of his gaze was a warning.

  “That was a nice, evasive little answer.”

  She gasped as he released her wrists, only to swing her up in his arms and stride into the bedroom. Within seconds she was bouncing on the bed, pushing at her hair as it fell over her eyes and feeling his hands at her hips, dragging her pants over her thighs.

  He didn’t waste time. Evidently, he must have felt as though he had already wasted enough time. Her shoes were slipped from her feet and the pants tossed to the floor before she could protest. If she meant to protest. She was certain she didn’t.

  Why would she protest? He was staring between her thighs, his expression tight, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he straightened and began unbuttoning his shirt quickly. Just his look was enough to make her breath short and labored, enough to cause her heart to tighten and ache with the emotions racing through her.

  And this was more than a casual fuck to him as well. What tomorrow would bring she had no idea, but for now, this meant something to him. Dark emotion shadowed hi
s eyes and tormented desire filled the air around them.

  “Take off the vest,” he ordered.

  There wasn’t a request in his voice, it was an order, plain and simple.

  It made her shiver. The dominance in his expression, in his voice, it was wild and erotic and called to the wildness Rogue had fought to keep in check inside herself, for so long.

  Her fingers fell to the vest as she sat up. It slid easily from her shoulders.

  “The camisole.” His shirt fell to the floor before he sat down on the edge of the bed to jerk his boots off.

  Rogue pulled the camisole off as she fought the disconcerting feeling of being naked in front of him. No one had seen her naked since she was a child. But Zeke was seeing her now.

  He rose to his feet, his hands going to the belt that cinched his hips. He unbuckled it quickly, confidently. The snap and zipper on his jeans came next. Then he was shedding them along with the snug boxer briefs he wore. The material slid over his powerful thighs and released the heavy length of his cock to her avid gaze.

  She’d had him in her mouth. She’d tasted his release. But she hadn’t really seen his erection until now. Hard, thick, heavily veined. The crest was dark, flared out, and flushed with an excess of lust with a small drop of pre-cum gracing the tip.

  Rogue licked her lips, the remembered taste of his release sizzling her senses.

  She was reaching for him when his hands landed on her shoulders. One knee braced on the bed, he pushed her back, loomed over her, his head lowering, his lips taking hers. He took the kiss he wanted. His lips captured hers, held them imprisoned as his tongue slid between them and conquered hers. The kiss was hard, erotic, so sensual that the pleasure of it slammed into her senses, igniting the lust already flaming out of control.

  The rasp of his chest hairs against her nipples had her arching close, crying out. Pleasure shouldn’t be this extreme. It shouldn’t be filled with such wonder and such desperation.

  One knee slid between her thighs, pressed high and firm until she was rocking her clit against the heavy muscle of his thigh. And it was so good. It was blazing. Hot. It was so much pleasure, so many sensations that she wondered if she would survive the inferno.