Each caress sent flares of heat exploding with sensual devastation throughout her body. Her nipples were so hard, the nerves there so sensitized, that they were sending rippling flares of response straight to her womb, convulsing it with an erotic punch of pleasure.

“Rowdy…” She was shocked at the whimper in her voice, at her inability to pull away from him.

He came closer. Kneeling on the bed, still holding her hand, he pulled her to him until she was on her knees facing him.

He took her other wrist, placing her palms against his chest before his hands smoothed up her arms, over her shoulders, down her back to her hips. She trembled, shuddering at the light caress; it could have been firmer, could have been more destructive. It was subtle instead. Soft. Giving her the chance to break away, knowing she couldn’t. That she wouldn’t.

“You’re mine,” he whispered again as his head lowered.

She stared back at him, fighting to breathe, fighting against the desires raging inside her. She was helpless against his touch, against the hunger that gleamed in his eyes.

Just as she became helpless against his kiss.

His lips covered hers, slowly at first. So slowly, too slowly. They stroked over hers, his tongue flickering out to lave them a second before his teeth caught the lower curve, nipping at it as he watched her.

Her breathing hitched as she felt his hands bunch in the material of the gown at her hips. It drew slowly up her thighs, working over her flesh, baring her to his hands.

“Easy,” he whispered against her lips. “Just feel, Kelly. Feel for me. Burn for me…”

She felt cool air caress her thighs, then his hands against her naked flesh, callused, heated, as his lips slanted over hers and he stole her mind with his kiss.

Deep, drugging kisses. Pleasure tore through her system, consumed her to the point that the knowledge that she was being lowered, laid beneath him, barely registered in her mind. All she knew was the pleasure. The feel of his hard body above her, his hands smoothing over her bare thighs, her hips, then working on the tiny buttons at the bodice while his kisses ravished her lips.

She was drowning in him. The taste of him. His touch. The muted male sounds of hunger and pleasure as she began to touch him. She needed to touch him. To immerse herself in every sensual sensation she could consume. Her nervous system was rioting with the chaotic impulses rushing through them. The air around them became heated, steamy with the desperation that infused each kiss, each touch.

“God, you taste sweet.” His lips tore from hers, his breathing heavy, hard, as they moved to her neck.

She tilted her neck, panting for air as she felt his teeth rake down the sensitive column, then felt the brush of cool air over her naked breasts.

As his head lifted, she opened her eyes, staring back at him in dazed fascination as his gaze dropped. He had pulled apart the unbuttoned edges of her gown, displaying the swollen, hard-tipped mounds of her breasts.

The expression on his face was pure, carnal hunger. His eyes heavy-lidded, his lips moist and swollen from their kisses, his cheekbones flushed a brick red.

As though suspended between dream and reality, she watched as his head lowered, her eyes widening, a strangled groan leaving her lips as his tongue covered one spiked, aroused nipple.

Reaction shot through her, jerking at her body as her hands tightened on his neck, her back arching. This was heaven. It was ecstasy. The most pleasure she had ever known in her life.

His tongue lashed at the hard point as he sucked the flesh into his mouth, drawing on her deeply, creating a pleasure–pain sensation that had a startled cry leaving her lips.

Lips he immediately covered, stilling the aroused cries as his fingers replaced his mouth. Tweaking at the tender tips, causing her to writhe beneath him as she fought to get closer, to still the ache burning between her thighs.

“Shh. Easy.” His groan was whispered against her lips, his voice dark, desperate. “Damn, Kelly. I can’t take you here. Dad will kill me.”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t.” His chest pressed against her breasts, rasped her nipples so she fought to breathe. “Don’t stop, Rowdy, please.”

His hand smoothed down to her thigh, his fingers close, so close to where she needed them. She gazed back at him pleadingly, feeling her vagina ripple with need, the muscles clenching in desperation.

“If I take you, you’re going to scream,” he whispered, his eyes darkening, a ravenous lust filling his expression. “I want to hear every cry that leaves your lips, Kelly. Every scream as you come around me. I can’t do that here. We can’t do that here. You know that.”

She shook her head, a weak whimper passing her lips.

“I’ve waited too long, Rowdy.”

“Shh.” His kiss was gentle and much too short as he eased her gown over her thighs and then covered her breasts once again. “Tomorrow. We’ll go out on the boat,” he whispered, pushing her hair back before moving slowly to her side and pulling her into his arms.

She laid her head against his chest, fighting to regulate her breathing, to tear herself back from the endless spiral of heat he had thrown her into.

“That wasn’t fair,” she whispered as he lifted the sheet over them. “You’re supposed to be sleeping in your own bed.”

She was too weak to make him move now, too desperate for his touch, any touch, to force him from her bed.

“Go to sleep.” His arms contracted around her. “I’d be fighting shadows if I slept away from you, Kelly. Let me hold you. Know you’re okay.”

She pressed her lips to his chest. “It wasn’t your fault, Rowdy,” she told him softly, wondering at the edge of remorse she heard in his voice.

He was silent, but his hands still stroked her back, soothing now, where seconds before they had been arousing.

“Just let me hold you,” he repeated. “Sleep beside me, Kelly. We’ll argue out the rest of it later.”

“You want me to sleep?” She sighed, shaking her head. “Rowdy, I’m never going to sleep with your hard-on poking at my belly all night.”

“Sure you can,” he chuckled at her ear. “You need your rest, baby. Because tomorrow night, I really wouldn’t bet on you getting any sleep at all.”

She was silent then, lying against him, feeling his arms surrounding her, protecting her. God, what was she doing? She had lived and breathed for the day Rowdy would return and see her as more than just a pesky little girl. That he would see her as a woman, as his woman. And here he was, ready to claim her, and she was fighting it, fighting him. Or was she fighting herself?

“This isn’t a game, Kelly.” His voice was soft, surrounding her, causing her eyelids to flutter in pleasure as it stroked over her senses. “I’m deadly serious about this. About us. I wasn’t joking when I said you were mine. I came home to claim you, if that’s what you still want.”

“Maybe it doesn’t work that way, Rowdy. I want you until I can’t think, can’t breathe. But you’re different now.”

“I’m no different than I’ve ever been and you know it.” His voice hardened. “You don’t like the fact that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to protect you. You want everything tied up in roses and sweet promises. I can give you that, to a point. But I won’t ignore the danger. And you have to accept that. This will be taken care of.”

He wasn’t angry; he wasn’t trying to convince her. He was telling her.

“You’re talking about using me. Me and whatever we share between us sexually, flaunting it in front of him to provoke him.” That terrified her more than she wanted to admit.

“It’s the quickest way to finish this.”

“Maybe the quickest way isn’t always the best.” She didn’t know if she wanted to take that step, if she wanted to force a madman’s hand.

“Or maybe you think you can hide whatever this relationship brings.” His voice hardened. “Do you believe that’s possible, Kelly? Whether you make the choice to immerse yourself in everything I can give you, or not, doesn’t make a difference. Everyone is going to believe you are. He’ll believe you are. My plan will just flush him out quicker, that’s all. But we’ll play it however you choose.”

She didn’t like the easy, matter-of-fact way he said that. She could feel a “but” in there somewhere, she just had to find it.

“You could have at least tried to hide that part of your sex life from the world,” she finally sighed with an edge of irritation.

“Why?” He sounded genuinely curious now. “Kelly, I’m who I am. I don’t hide that, from anyone. I don’t flaunt it. I don’t advertise it. Others have. What happens between you and me I expect will stay between you and me. You don’t advertise yourself, and you won’t advertise our relationship. Why should we do without something we might enjoy because of what others suspect, or think?”

She hated it when he pulled logic into his arguments with her. He had always done that.

“Because I’m scared,” she whispered, rolling away from him to sit on the side of the bed.

“Of me?”

“Of myself. Of what could happen.” She moved to her feet, pacing away from the bed as she rubbed at the chill that rushed over her arms. “You’re talking about pushing someone who isn’t sane. And in the same breath…” She shook her head.

“I’m asking you to make a decision,” he finished for her. “Not about your safety but about something much more important to you. Your sexuality.”

“I’m still a virgin.” Her laughter was self-mocking. “I expected something a little more romantic, Rowdy.”

“And you deserved something a hell of a lot more romantic, Kelly.” He sighed. “But catching this stalker is more important than romance. And I’m not going to play games with you. From the beginning, we won’t be alone. If it doesn’t happen for you with Dawg and Natches, then we have to at least give the impression of it. We can’t afford to let this guy catch us unawares, I can’t afford to let him hurt you again, because God as my witness, my sanity won’t survive it, Kelly.”

“God!” She pushed her fingers through her hair, turning from him, trying to ignore the fact that she wasn’t insulted, wasn’t offended or furious. “You’re not talking about this thing with your cousins being a one-time deal, are you?” She kept her back to him, kept her expression hidden.

“No. I’m not.”

The rumors had started when they were in their teens. Three young men with charisma and sexuality, who had been the downfall of a local divorcée. It had begun then, at an age that none of the three men would reveal. Too young, Rowdy knew. But damn, it had been hot that summer, and not just from the sun. Loren Barnes had been a quiet, schoolmarmish lady on the outside, but inside she had been hotter than fireworks in July.

She had taken three uncertain virgin boys and, in a few short months, taught them to be men well before their time. All together. All at once. One soft female body, her approval and cries of pleasure penetrating their lust-hazed minds as they took her lessons and drove her to the brink of passion with them.

She taught them how to romance, how to tease, how to cajole, how to subtly drive a woman crazy and make her so wet the slick essence of her would dampen her thighs. She had taught them how much more pleasure they could bring together than alone. And to the Mackay boys, that was what it was all about.

Women were treasures, precious gifts of never-ending excitement, sweetly scented flesh, and mysterious motives. They were a challenge and a comfort, a balm to the soul, and an adventure like nothing else ever created. They were infinitely strong, and yet infinitely vulnerable. Rowdy, Dawg, and Natches had realized years before that alone they couldn’t give the pleasure they could together, but also, they couldn’t protect as well.