The Nauti Boys Collection

by Lora Leigh

  Her breath caught in a hard hitch a second before she jerked away from him, moving across the room, her shoulders stiff and straight as he forced himself to relax, to wait.

  “And if we weren’t alone?” Her voice was thin, breathy. He couldn’t tell if it was arousal or fear that inspired it.

  “If we weren’t alone, you know the only men I’d ever allow around you,” he told her softly.

  “And if it’s not what I want?” She asked, her gray eyes dark, shadowed with indecision.

  “Then I won’t press you for it.” He crossed his arms over his chest again as he leaned against the counter. “That doesn’t mean I won’t think about it, that I won’t fantasize the hell out of it. I won’t lie to you, Kelly. Ever. And I won’t have things between us that don’t need to be there.”

  “And how do they feel about this?” Arousal lay thick in her voice, as did the fear. “Have the three of you already been making plans to seduce me?”

  “There are times when men don’t have to make plans, Kelly.” He kept his voice smooth, even. “They know me, just as well as I know them. No plans will ever be made outside of your presence.”

  She breathed in slowly, her nostrils flaring as she watched him closely.

  “Which brings me to another point,” he continued. “Whether you want to do it or not, you’re going to at least have to fake it. Until I catch that bastard who attacked you, I’ll let him think it’s going on. I’ll torture him with the knowledge of it. Because I’ll be damned if I’ll let him threaten you any longer. So you might want to think about at least enjoying some of the pretense.”

  As he spoke, he watched her pale, then flush as fury contorted her features with lightning swiftness. A spark was all it took, and he had known he was taking that risk.

  “You think you’re going to play with me?” she threw back at him, her voice rising in fury. “That I’m going to let you play head games with that sick bastard until he comes after me again?”

  Betrayal flashed in her eyes, in her voice.

  “Think again, damn you.” She stalked over to the chair, yanking her pants from the seat and jerking them over her legs as she cast him a heated glare. “You’re a son of a bitch, Rowdy. I can’t believe you’d do this.” Emotion clogged her throat, the pain in her voice tearing at his chest.

  “Hell yes, I’ll do it,” he snarled, stalking to her as she struggled to snap and zip her jeans. He gripped her arms, staring down at her, rage eating him alive at the thought of that perverted bastard holding her down, cutting her with that knife. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Kelly, do you understand me? He’s a threat to you. A danger. And that I will not tolerate. If we don’t catch him, he’s going to rape again, and the next woman might not live to regret it. Is that what you want?”

  “You want to use me.” She slapped at his arms, breaking away from him as she screamed the accusation in his face, her gray eyes swimming with tears. “You want to pervert what I feel for you, what I’ve needed for years, and turn it into some kind of damned war game.”

  “I want you until I can’t breathe, dammit,” he growled back at her. “I haven’t taken a comfortable breath since you developed breasts. But he’s going to come after you again, sooner or later. You know it and I know it. What happens if he catches me off guard? If he gets to you again?”

  “You can’t know that. And I’m careful now.”

  “I snuck up on you yesterday morning,” he snapped. “Do you have any idea how easy it is to get past even Dad’s security system? Do you think you could have stopped him even if that window had been closed and locked?” He saw the truth in her eyes. “Forget that, Kelly. The other girls he raped couldn’t stop him. He raped one of them while her parents slept only rooms away from her. You can’t hide from him, and you can’t run.”

  “Stop yelling at me!” She pushed him back furiously, her hands cracking against his stomach as she slapped against it to forcibly put distance between them.

  “You aren’t listening to me,” he snarled.

  “And I won’t listen to you,” she screamed, the tears falling from her eyes, her face pale, her eyes raging with fury and the sense of betrayal he could see tearing through her. “You call this love? Setting me up? Oh God, Rowdy, how could you do this to me?”

  A sob tore through her body as she stared up at him, her fists clenched at her side, tears wetting her cheeks and breaking his heart.

  “Do what, Kelly?” he finally asked wearily, shaking his head. “Want you safe? Well? I’m telling you who and what I am, and what I am endangers you with this bastard anyway if he’s even heard of me. Dawg, Natches, and I have been sharing our women since we were old enough to understand what our dicks were made for. You know that as well as anyone else does. Loving me doesn’t mean you have to do shit about it. Loving you doesn’t mean it’s something I have to have. But we’re talking about more than that now. We’re talking about your life, and I’ll do whatever the hell it takes to keep that bastard from ever touching you again. Ever, Kelly.”

  “And how do you know it wasn’t one of them?” she threw in his face. “It could have been either of them. He tried to rape me anally, Rowdy. And the three of you are considered the ass-fucking kings, so tell me how you know it’s not one of them.”

  “Because they know me,” he snapped back. “And they’ve watched you twitch that little ass at me since you were a teenager. Trust me, baby, if it was one of them, they would have never made the mistake of believing that good girl persona you project to every other man close enough to watch you. You’re a good girl to the world, but you, baby, are bad to the bone when it comes to me. I know it, and you know it. You just have to accept it.”

  “Get fucked!” she screamed back, enraged, her face flushed red, her eyes glittering now with a fury he’d rarely seen in her.

  He smiled. A slow, teasing, wicked grin that only fueled her rage as his gaze dropped down her body then back up.

  “But, darlin’, ain’t that what we were talking about?”

  Before she could do more than gasp he had her in his arms again, his lips covering hers, his tongue slipping past her lips to taste the wild anger and arousal pumping through her.

  She didn’t think. She didn’t fear. He felt her hands grip his shoulders, her little nails pricking against his flesh as his hand moved beneath her shirt, to her thighs.

  “Damn you,” he growled, lifting his head to stare into her dazed, stormy eyes as his palm cupped the hot flesh between her thighs, the heat of his flesh searing her even through her jeans. “I bet you’re wet, Kelly. So fucking wet it’s seeping through your panties.”

  He pressed closer, feeling her hips buck at the pressure against her clit.

  God, he wanted to strip her. He wanted to tear those clothes off her and lay her down on the closest available surface and devour her. He wanted to bury his lips between those perfect thighs, send his tongue searching through the silken folds of her pussy.

  And she wanted it, too. She was pressing against his hand, her hips bucking into it as the heat of her filled his palm.

  “Feel good?”

  “I hate you,” she snapped, her breathing rough as a low whimper left her throat.

  “No, you don’t.” He rotated his hand, watching her eyes flare, feeling the heat intensify against his palm. “You love me, Kelly, just like you love this. And you want more. Admit it, baby.”

  Her thighs parted further as his fingers curved, massaging the sensitive flesh through her clothes.

  “I want you, not a game,” she cried out, arching to her tiptoes, helpless against him. He liked her helpless against his touch, loved feeling the heat of her against his hand.

  “And if the game comes with it?” He watched her intently, his eyes narrowed. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. And this is what it takes. I won’t let him catch us unprepared. I won’t let him touch you again.”

  He released her slowly, hating letting her go as she stared back at him miserably.


  “Think about that,” he whispered, keeping his voice gentle. “I hate it like hell, and no one wishes I could have seduced you more than I do. I would have loved seducing you, baby. But your safety is more important.”

  “My safety?” she asked mockingly. “Or your desires?”

  Anger flared inside him. “You know me better than that, Kelly.” He kept his jaw tensed, his tone of voice low. “Nothing matters as much as keeping you safe.”

  “But only on your terms,” she pointed out, furious, causing him to pause. “On your terms and by your rules. Well, you know what, Rowdy, your rules suck. Maybe I need to decide if playing your game is worth the risk to my heart and to my safety.”

  NINE

  He watched as the Nauti Buoy pulled into her berth, fifty feet and gleaming beneath the summer moon, her lights giving the craft a soft, romantic look. How he had dreamed of having such a craft, a place he could use to hide, to take his good girls and fulfill the promises he made to them.

  He thought he had chosen so wisely. His perfect girls, pure in heart and in nature, and they loved him. He was their love, but it had taken so long to find the one he wanted for all time. The perfect good girl. So sweet-natured and pure, never dirtying herself or her good name. Despite the brother.

  His fists clenched at the thought of the brother. He was depraved, perverted, and he was going to dirty her. Rowdy Mackay was going to shame Kelly, and he knew it. He had seen them today, in the store, his hands on her, his eyes raking over her as though he owned her.

  Rowdy Mackay didn’t own her. She belonged to the man who loved her, who respected her. And she was going to love him. Just like the others did. They hadn’t loved anyone else either. He watched them sometimes, making certain they didn’t allow anyone else to touch what belonged to him. Sometimes he called them, reminded them of who they were waiting for. They had promised to wait on him to find his one true love.

  Kelly could be his true love. He thought it was possible. Until Rowdy came home.

  The Nauti Boys. They were depraved. Perverts. But they had never fooled with the good girls. They left the perfect ones alone, always preferring the tramps, the little whores willing to spread their legs not just for one of them, but sometimes for all three at once. They shared their women all the time, watching and listening to their nasty screams as they begged for more.

  His fists clenched, his gut rolling in sick suspicion. Rowdy had taken Kelly away on the houseboat. He had never done that by himself before. In the past, it had always been with her and her friends, never alone.

  He shook at the fear that the bastard had dirtied her. He couldn’t let that happen. Kelly was sweet and clean, she had never been dirtied by another man’s seed, by another’s possession of her.

  She had screamed for him when he touched her, though. He hadn’t had time to hear her beg for him, or to hear her promise to remain true to him. No sooner had he attempted to possess her than that big dumb hick visiting his whore girlfriend had started yelling outside the door. He couldn’t get caught. His sweet Kelly couldn’t be seen with a man in her bed. It would ruin her reputation and she wouldn’t be clean anymore. Her reputation meant everything.

  Bastard Rowdy. Rowdy Mackay thought he was perfect, thought all the girls were his. He was going to hurt sweet Kelly, his sister. She was his sister, he had no business touching her. Sisters shouldn’t be touched, his father had warned him of that.

  His eyes narrowed as Kelly moved from the boat and jumped onto the narrow floating dock. She was angry. He could see it in her face, in the stiff set of her body beneath the bright lights of the dock.

  She said something as Rowdy locked the doors, causing the man to stiffen, to turn to her slowly. He didn’t like the smile Rowdy gave her. It was carnal. Dirty.

  He watched as she stalked ahead of the other man, her loose clothing demure, hiding the body that belonged to him alone. How perfect she was. His good girl. He had to finish his claim on her. He had to make certain she belonged to him. Not Rowdy. Never Rowdy and his perverted friends.

  He watched as Rowdy walked her to her car. He was too close to her, even though she was angry. Rowdy was standing too close. He was crowding her.

  She unlocked the door and opened it, then Rowdy touched her. Don’t touch her. He clenched his fists, sniffing miserably, fighting the tears that fell from his eyes. Rowdy shouldn’t be touching her.

  But he was. The depraved bastard was touching her hair, her cheek, smiling down at her. Rage shattered in his head, filling his vision with a red haze as he watched another move from the shadows of the dock. Dawg. The bastard couldn’t even use his real name—he used the nickname of the animal he was.

  Kelly started as the other men called out to them, flashed Rowdy a furious look, then got into her car. The car door closed and within seconds she was pulling from the parking lot. She was going home. But she wouldn’t be going alone. Rowdy would go as well. He lived in the house with her. His bedroom would be close to hers, he could hear her, smell her, maybe touch her as she slept.

  Oh God, don’t let him touch her, he prayed. Don’t let him dirty the good girl. She was his good girl. And, she just might be his perfect love.

  Kelly forcibly restrained the anger pounding through her bloodstream as she stepped into the house with Rowdy close behind her.

  “It’s about time you two found your way home.” Ray and Maria stepped into the entryway.

  Kelly breathed in deeply before turning to them, pasting a smile on her face as she met their concerned gazes.

  “Rowdy has a habit of poking along on the way back from the docks.” She kept her voice flat and even. “You know how he is.”

  They weren’t convinced.

  “She’s a lousy liar, isn’t she?” Rowdy drawled, his deep baritone still sending shivers up her spine despite her anger.

  She glanced over at him. His thumbs were hooked in the pockets of his jeans, long legs stiff and straight as he smiled in open amusement back at their parents. She drew in a deep, hard breath.

  “I’m going up to bed.” She smiled stiffly. “Rowdy can be a butt by himself. I don’t feel like dealing with it.”

  She raced up the stairs, fearing Rowdy would follow her, grateful he didn’t. She slammed the door to her bedroom, twisting the lock on the handle before she stomped to her window and jerked the heavy curtains closed.

  “Beg me for it,” he panted at her ear, holding her down. “You’re my good girl, Kelly. You’re mine, it’s okay to let me in. Let me in…”

  She shook her head at the intrusive memory. She had managed to hold back the fear while she was with Rowdy, but now that she was alone, it was sneaking in, attacking her. The feeling of being watched was overwhelming, her skin crawling as her stomach churned with panic.

  She had, as Rowdy had argued, essentially been the one who got away. She had escaped the full rape, suffering only some cuts made to weaken her, and a terror that still brought her awake with a cry on her lips.

  She didn’t wear the clothes she used to because the marks were still there. Shorts and tank tops might reveal the nearly imperceptible white scars that still marred her arms, shoulders, and legs. Nakedness would reveal the ones on her buttocks. Deeper slices had been made there as he held her down, cutting her panties from her.

  Her mother swore they weren’t noticeable. But to Kelly, they were.

  She still remembered the feel of that knife biting into her, razor-sharp, the skin parting as cold pain streaked through her nervous system, and the feel of hot blood as it began to pour from the wounds. The doctor had assured her that within a few years they would be gone entirely. She wondered if the memories would fade as well.

  She paced through the dark room to the wide recliner that sat on the far wall, beneath the standing lamp she used to read by. Collapsing into it, she propped her elbows on her knees and dropped her head in her hands. She didn’t need Rowdy’s arguments earlier to understand that she wasn’t out of danger. She knew she wasn
’t, just as she knew that it was only a matter of time before her attacker made his next move.

  She felt stalked. There was no proof, nothing but her own suspicions and her own fears. Shaking her head, she moved to her dresser. She pulled free one of the long sleeveless gowns she slept in and headed for the shower. A cold shower maybe, she thought as she adjusted the water. If she didn’t get the memory of his kiss, his teasing out of her head, she would go crazy.

  But even the cool water did nothing to still the idea he had planted in her head earlier. She was furious that Rowdy would play games to draw the stalker out, but she was smart enough to realize she wasn’t safe.

  She dried her hair, staring at the thin white scars on her shoulders and upper arms. There were four on one, three on the other. They showed clearly in the bright light of the bathroom, the dark blue gown emphasizing the marks.

  At times she swore she could feel the ones on her buttocks.

  She shook her head as she turned from the mirror, moving to the bedroom, her hand reaching out to flip off the light. She paused at the switch, her eyes narrowing on the man in her bedroom.

  Rowdy had obviously showered as well. Dressed in gray sweatpants, he was propped against her pillows, waiting on her, a scowl creasing his handsome face.

  “That expression freezes on your face and you’ll be terrifying little kids on the streets,” she informed him as she flipped off the light and walked into the bedroom.

  “I’m not leaving you alone at night, Kelly—”

  “Windows were locked and so was the door,” she informed him as she stood by the side of the bed, her arms crossed over her breasts.

  “And I got in the door anyway.”

  She inhaled slowly, her gaze sliding to the shadowed outline of the door as Rowdy reached over and clicked on the dim lamp on the small table beside him.

  The lock was in the standing position, still locked.