Kelly felt her head spinning as pleasure washed through her with the force of a sensual tidal wave. She could feel Rowdy’s hands roaming over her back, her bu**ocks, bringing a sense of heat and overwhelming pleasure rather than pain and fear.
One hand moved up her spine, threaded in her hair, and before she could guess his intention he was pulling her head back as he turned, lifting her, pushing her to the couch.
Before she could do more than gasp, he stole her breath with his kiss. Her lips parted beneath his, her tongue meeting his in a duel of exquisite ecstasy. She couldn’t help curling her fingers into his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles flex beneath her touch, bunch with power as he buried her smaller body beneath his much larger one.
There was no fear here. There wasn’t even the thought of fear. There was only Rowdy’s touch, his lips covering hers, one hand tangled in her hair, the other moving inexorably to the rounded curve of one breast.
She fought to breathe, certain there had been enough oxygen in the air before his kiss. And she would have broken away to breathe, but it was so good, so hot, so filled with liquid, carnal delight that she couldn’t draw away from him. But she could touch him. God, how she had dreamed of touching him over the years, feeling him against her, possessing her.
“Rowdy…” Her cry was instinctive as he pulled his lips from her, her eyes opening to stare into his expression in dazed fascination as he pressed his jeans-clad erection tight between her thighs.
“Be sure.” His voice was guttural. “Look around you, Kelly. Be certain of what you’re doing. There’s no turning back. Ever.”
Dark erotic power filled his expression. His brilliant green eyes were moss-dark, his face flushed, his lips heavy with greedy hunger.
“Kiss me, Rowdy.” She didn’t want to think about what could or would be. She wanted to feel the dreams she had known for so long. Rowdy taking her, his cousins pleasuring her.
“No,” he growled, his voice rough, his hands clamping on her wrists as her hands moved for the snap of his cutoffs. “Look around, Kelly. Look at them. Let them know they’re welcome or they leave. That simple. Your choice.”
“That cold-blooded?” she asked nervously.
“No, dammit.” He lifted her from him before she could do more than gasp, striding across the room before turning back to her.
“Rowdy, man, let this go,” Dawg muttered warningly as Kelly sat up on the couch.
“You make the choice,” he growled, his eyes tormented with need, with demand. “I won’t do it for you.”
Kelly rose jerkily from the couch, her body on fire, her face flaming with anger and embarrassment, and an instinctive demand that she deny them all. She stared at the three of them, all aroused, all awaiting her decision. A decision that had nothing to do with emotion and everything to do with hunger and their dominance. They wanted her surrender, a complete surrender, and she wasn’t certain she could give it.
“All or nothing?” she questioned in reply.
“You know better than that, Kelly.” Rowdy sliced his hand through the air with frustrated fury. “Don’t play games.”
“So I have to say the words instead?” she asked, challenging him, facing him with the same determination that glittered in his eyes.
“Words work.” He crossed his arms over his chest as Dawg and Natches slouched in their chairs and watched him, each wearing dark, disapproving frowns.
“Oh, I just bet they would.” She flipped her hair from her face before propping her hands on her hips. “Should I just ask you all to screw me, Rowdy? Why don’t I just bare it now and let you take turns with me. Hell yeah, make it damned easy on you, wouldn’t it? That way, you don’t have to feel like shit later because you let another man take what was yours?”
“Do you think for one f**king minute that they don’t know exactly who you belong to?” he questioned her with dark intent. “If I didn’t care, baby, you wouldn’t have been a virgin the other night.”
“Says who?” she argued in amazement. “Do you really believe that all it takes is a touch from a Nauti Boy to turn any woman’s crank?” She waved her hand mockingly. “Your ego is becoming more swollen than your dick, Rowdy.”
Wrong word. All three men seemed to tighten, straighten at the explicit word that left her lips.
“Yeah, just look at the three of you.” She rolled her eyes in mocking amusement. “Like little boys waiting for a treat. Well, f**k that. Find someplace else to treat, because I’ll be damned if I’m still in the mood.”
She stomped across the room, determined to reach the curving staircase that led to the upper bedroom and peace. She passed Rowdy with a disdainful little hiss, so irked and frustrated with his male, redneck attitude that she could have kicked him.
“Oh, no, you don’t.”
She hadn’t expected him to reach for her. But even if she had, she wouldn’t have expected him to lift her so quickly into his arms before his lips slammed down on hers.
It wasn’t a romantic kiss. It wasn’t soft and delving, or deep and passionate. It was hungry demand, carnal intent. It stole resistance and replaced it with pure fiery need, and nothing less.
Before she could protest, before she even processed the information, she found her rear braced on the counter, her thighs spread, and Rowdy devouring her.
She was lost in him, helpless in his arms as usual and loving it. Her fingers speared into his hair as his lips moved over hers, his tongue a restless marauder that conquered hers with inordinate ease.
And his hands weren’t still either. Within seconds, the bikini top she wore was tossed aside, the hard tips of her br**sts pressing into the fine layer of hair that covered his broad chest.
She shifted against him, her fingernails digging into his scalp as the tender, spike-hard tips burned in pleasure.
Kelly moaned at the loss as his lips pulled from hers, moving to her neck as her head fell back, the whiplash of sensations jerking her against him as his broad palms framed the tender mounds when he pulled back.
“So pretty.” His lips were swollen, his eyes heavy-lidded and intense as they focused on the swollen curves. “You have the prettiest ni**les, Kelly. As pretty pink as cotton candy. And they taste just as sweet.”
Her gaze fell to her br**sts. The light pink ni**les were straining toward him, diamond-hard and desperate for his touch. No other man had touched her there. No one but Rowdy. She ached for him, needed him, belonged to him.