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His eyes had been sober, intense, his voice gentle as he checked out her skinned knees. Then he had patted her shoulder and left her in Dawg’s and Natches’ care while he went after the boys who had stolen the hair bows out of her long hair.

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Lora Leigh

Her mother had scrimped in those days just to buy Kelly the pretty, girly little treasures she loved so much. The little pocketbooks, the pretty shoes, even if they were secondhand, and the hair bows.

It hadn’t been long before he returned, her hair bows in hand. He had taken the little brush she had pulled from her backpack and brushed her hair and set the bows in place. They had been crooked, but she hadn’t cared because Rowdy had put them there.

From that day on, at least one of the boys, usually all of them, were at the park in the evenings playing basketball when Kelly came to play.

While her mother taught after-school tutoring, Kelly had been watched over. Two years later, Ray and Maria had married but Rowdy had already set the tone of how she was to be treated. No one hurt Kelly. It was that simple. And if anyone dared, they paid, one way or the other.

The past eight years had been miserable with him gone. With only occasional visits, the rare leaves he had taken were never enough to fill the gaps his absence left. And she had always dreamed of him. Held onto the thought of him. And as she matured, had fallen in love with him.

And she was tired of dreaming.

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 he would play games to draw the stalker out, but she was smart enough to realize she wasn’t safe. He could strike at anytime, and one day, he could get lucky.

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

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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 at the sight that met her eyes.

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.

“How did you do that?” She turned back to him, pretending to ignore the fact that he was mouthwateringly sexy as he lay on the flowered comforter of her bed.

“It’s a piece of cake,” he grunted. “The window locks aren’t a lot harder to release. Until I can get the contractor out here to add to the security, you’re stuck with me.”

His expression was determined, stubborn. It was easy to tell when Rowdy had made up his mind and was refusing to change it. His

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expression went completely bland and his sea-green eyes turned as cool as the artic seas.

“Fine.” She shrugged. “You sleep here and I’ll sleep in your bed. No biggie.” She moved for the door.

“Open that door, Kelly, and your mom and my dad are going to get dragged into this little disagreement we’re having. Is that really what you want?”

Damn.

She stopped halfway to the door before turning back to him.

“Whose side would they take?” She opened her eyes wide, with mocking innocence. “Now I wonder what will they think about the little proposal you put to me earlier?”

He tilted his head, his eyes glittering with lust, with amused hunger.

“Dad would probably kick my ass out of the house,” he growled good-naturedly. “Is that what you really want?”

She turned away from him, restraining the urge to kick his butt herself. He was right. Ray would likely skin his hide if he ever learned his son’s proposal.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t expected it. She had. She had looked forward to it. How was that for some sick shit? She had actually looked forward to the day Rowdy would return and make good on the promise his kiss had made four years ago.

And she had known if he did, the possibility of just such a proposal would come. She had been ready for it. Prepared for it. What she hadn’t expected was the cold-blooded intention he had of using it to catch her rapist. As though the act no longer had anything to do with the two of them. As though the desire, the need and the hunger were a means to an end and nothing more. It was without feeling, without emotion. And God help her, whenever she was around Rowdy, she felt nothing but emotion.

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Swirls of it. Lava-hot, lightning forks of sensation that rippled over her nerve endings, rendering even the air itself a caress against her sensitive flesh.

And emotions? Oh she didn’t even want to go there. Except she was already there. Arousal, uncertainty, fear of the unknown and a fear of losing the dream in the face of reality.

He was asking her to choose. She had wanted to be seduced.

She turned back to him, drawing in a slow, deep breath, her head lifting as she stared at the confident, cool countenance he presented to her.

“Get out of my bedroom.” She crossed her arms over her breasts, pressing her lips together as she glared at him. “I’m not one of the Nauti Boys playthings. And I’m not in the mood for games. Not yours or anyone else’s.”

She watched the surprise gleam in his eyes for just a second. For the first time in all the years she had known him, she had never surprised him, until now.

With a ripple of muscle, he moved from the bed, his gaze never leaving hers as he rose, coming to his feet and walking around the bed.

He was aroused. The thick length of his erection tented his sweatpants, drew her eyes and made her mouth water. She had fantasized about that erection. About all the things a woman could do with such a prime piece of flesh.

She let her eyes linger on the proof of that arousal before lifting them to his eyes again. He was close. So close she could smell the clean, male scent of him. Dial soap and heated male arousal.

She stood still as he stalked around her, the movements deliberate, predatory. Suddenly, he wasn’t the laid-back, patiently amused Rowdy

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Lora Leigh

she had always known. She could feel the purpose, the male intent that poured from him.

Her breath caught as he paused behind her, his hand reaching up to allow his fingers to smooth her hair back over her shoulder, to bare the shell of her ear.

“You’re mine.” She jumped at his whispered response. “And, baby, I do like to play.” His hands ran down her arms, creating a friction of heat as she felt his lips at her shoulders. “I guess that makes you my playmate, if not my plaything.”

Her eyes widened a second before she jerked out of his hold, turning back to him furiously.

“I don’t think so.” She gave him a tight, angry smile.

Stupid male confidence, she fumed.

He tilted his head, the beginnings of a smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

“I could convince you.”

No doubt.

She snorted as though it weren’t possible. Unfortunately, he probably could convince her, but at what cost to her soul?

“Go get in your own bed, Rowdy. Don’t make me cause a scene. Ray wouldn’t like it.” She walked to hers, flipping back the blankets and moving into the comfort of the mattress, ignoring him as though he didn’t matter. “Good night.”

He chuckled, the sound washing through the room, the lazy humor of the sexual animal she knew he was. She looked back at him, fighting to control her breathing, the excitement and adrenaline surging through her.

“You’ve changed,” he murmured as he paced to the other side of the bed, staring down at her, aroused, determined.

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“I haven’t changed at all, Rowdy.” She pulled the blankets to her waist as she sat propped against the pillows. “Perhaps you just never really knew me.” She raised her brows in emphasis. “That’s always a possibility.”

“You enjoyed waking up with me,” he accused. “You don’t want to throw me out.”

That one was a no-brainer. No, she didn’t want to throw him out. She wanted to curl against him and sleep as fearlessly as she had the night before and awaken as warm and protected as she had that morning.

She lifted her chin, refusing to answer him, fighting to hold his knowing stare as he watched her from beneath the veil of his thick, black lashes.

“Go play with someone else.” She might have to kill him if he tried.

“I’m not interested in the games.”

“And you think this is a game?” He scowled down at her, his hands bracing on his powerful hips as his eyes began to simmer with irritation.

“I think it is for you,” she answered somberly. “And I’m not a game.

Don’t play games with me, Rowdy. Not now, not ever.”

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Lora Leigh

Rowdy leaned forward, muscular arms propping him up on the mattress as he stared into her eyes. Kelly fought the need to glance away from him, to deny the hold he had on her. There was no turning away from him. He mesmerized her, made her hungry, made her need.

“I’m not scared of you, Rowdy,” she tried to smirk back at him. “Don’t try to intimidate me.”

“If you don’t like games, then don’t play them.” His voice was dangerously, warningly soft. “You want something from me, then tell me what you want.”

Her teeth clenched in anger.

“Fine,” she snapped. “I want you out of my bedroom and out of my face. Go away.” She made a shooing motion with her hand then stared at him in shock as his hand whipped out, catching her wrist.

Her heart jumped to her throat as he brought her fingers to his mouth, rubbed them against the velvet roughness of his lips before opening them and licking over the pads with a subtle flick of his tongue.

She was helpless. Struck dumb by the sheer sensuality of watching him caress nothing but her fingertips. Feeling the warmth of his lips, the flickering heat of his tongue, the sensual nip of his teeth.

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

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her womb, convulsing it with an erotic punch of pleasure. The sensation sent heated moisture spilling from her vagina.

“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 before 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, calloused, heated as his lips slanted over hers and he stole her mind with his kiss.

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Lora Leigh

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 to her breasts. 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.