Her cry echoed around her as she twisted against Dawg, silently pleading to feel his finger slipping inside her.
The sensations tearing through her body were violent, destructive. Alternative caresses, suckling mouths, hands over her, hot male groans washing over her. And she was in the center of it, weak, helpless against the eroticism of each touch.
She pressed against Dawg’s palm, shattering cries passing her lips at the pressure against her clit. It would be so easy to cl**ax, if she could just press against him a bit more, just the barest friction would allow her to ease the hunger beating at her.
“Not yet, baby,” he whispered at her ear, nipping her lobe. “Let your body burn for us, get so hungry that nothing matters except the touch, the need.”
She was already burning. Her fingers clenched in Rowdy’s and Natches’s hair as she felt Dawg’s fingers moving, felt him spreading her juices, allowing them to coat the tight entrance beyond as his finger massaged the closed portal.
She felt her anal entrance clench at the caresses, felt it open, milk at the tip of his finger as another hand, she didn’t know whose, began to play with the swollen bud of her clitoris.
She was trapped between them, in the middle of the kitchen area, suspended within a pleasure, a heat so intense she could barely make sense of it. Pleading, incoherent cries fell from her lips as she arched back, arched forward, so desperate that she no longer knew which touch would send her streaking toward orgasm; she just knew she needed it.
Yet, it was different than it had been with Rowdy alone. She struggled to push aside the vague unease she felt. The lack of emotional warmth, of sharing that had come from being in bed upstairs, just her and Rowdy.
“There you go, sweetheart,” Dawg whispered again as she felt the tip of his finger slide inside her anus. “Damn, you’re tight, and hot. Your ass is sucking at my finger like a little mouth, needing more. Do you need more, sweetheart?”
At the same time, hard fingers captured her cl*t and pumped it wickedly. Oh God, she could come so easy, if she could just get closer.
She relaxed her bu**ocks as flames licked at the little bud. Simultaneously, the little entrance sucked the hard finger deeper as the pressure eased at her clit, causing her to scream in pleasure and frustration.
Her ass felt filled, and yet she needed more. Her cl*t was pounding with need, her pu**y clenching with it until suddenly, sirens began to rip through her head….
“Fuck…” Reality slammed through as she was jerked to the floor, three cursing, furious men covering her as blasts shattered the erotic frenzy with cold fury.
“Get her to the side.” She was being pulled, jerked to the side, between the heavy cabinets as the sound of pounding feet and raging curses were heralded by return fire.
Shadows flashed around her in the dark as she scrambled to the corner of the cabinets, her hands brushing over fabric as she felt the shirt she had worn earlier beneath her hands.
Pulling it from the floor, she crouched in the V made by the cabinets and pulled it over her head as Rowdy pressed her tight against his side.
She didn’t ask questions, she wasn’t hysterical. She followed his lead as he, Natches, and Dawg began to work her closer to the back of the houseboat.
“Bastard shot the hull, Rowdy,” Dawg hissed as the gunfire eased.
The computerized alarm was still going nuts, the siren shattering her nerves as the sound of the security personnel on the other end demanded an answer.
She noticed no one was answering. Within seconds they were informed that Lake Patrol had been alerted and was now moving for the area.
“The pumps are working.” Natches slid in place with them. “We’ll be okay until the patrol gets here.”
They were dressed. She felt the scratch of Rowdy’s jeans on her thigh, Natches at her rear. Dawg had dragged his shorts back on, but where Rowdy had come up with clothes she wasn’t certain.
“I think he’s on the cliff overlooking us,” Natches snapped. “The trajectory of the shots would be about right for that.”
“He’ll have to cross the point to get back to the road,” Dawg growled. “I’ll be back. I’m going after him.”
“No…” The word was a hollow, raspy sound, jerking from Kelly’s throat as she caught at his pants.
Dawg brushed her hand aside, moving through the darkness as the pulsing siren continued to echo through the boat.
“Stay here.” Rowdy pressed her against the counters before moving for the alarm box and quickly cutting the sound off.
Kelly listened silently as he spoke to the security personnel, his voice hard, dark, furious.
“Don’t move from here until Rowdy comes back,” Natches whispered in her ear. “I need to check upstairs.”
She nodded in reply, her throat tight, fear and fury clogging her voice until she wasn’t certain she could speak. This was because of her. Someone had shot into the boat, tried to sink it, to kill them, because of her. She had placed Rowdy and his cousins in danger, had caused a madman to focus on them.
She wrapped her arms around her waist, staying in place, huddled against the counter as Rowdy flipped on a light in the living area.
She looked up as he came around the counter, his expression hard, his eyes gleaming with rage.
“Come on, baby.” His voice was gentle as he reached down for her. “Lake Patrol will be here to escort us to the dock in a minute. We need to get you dressed.”
She pulled herself wearily to her feet, gazing around at the destruction. The windows were shattered, glass and debris littering the floor, the paneling splintered from the bullets.
“Come on.” He lifted her into his arms as she stared around numbly at the destruction.
Despair tightened in her chest as she buried her face against Rowdy’s neck. She could feel her stomach cramping with guilt, with fear. One of them could have died. She could have lost Rowdy, or Dawg or Natches could have been hurt, killed.
“Here.” He sat her in the middle of the bedroom floor before moving to the small closet and pulling free a pair of her jeans. “Put these on.”
She accepted them silently, bending to pull them over her feet and then to her h*ps before she took the sneakers from his hand. She sat on the bed, slipped them on, then struggled to tie the laces.
“Easy, baby.” As Rowdy knelt before her, she realized the small whimpers she could hear were her own.