Moving quickly up the stairs behind her, he caught the bedroom door as she was attempting to close it, pushing his way in before he slammed it forcibly.

“Did I ask you to follow me?” she hissed, her gray eyes dark and gleaming with irritation as she faced him.

“You didn’t have to ask.”

Before she could blast him with whatever her lips were opening to say, he jerked her to him, lowered his head, and stole the sound with his kiss.

It was like sinking into ecstasy, fire, all the pleasure he could have ever imagined. He caught her little gasp with his lips, felt her hands grip his shoulders, her nails biting into the fabric of his shirt as he turned and lifted her, pressing her against the wall as he devoured the sweetness of her lips.

Her kiss. He loved her kiss. The feel of her lips softening beneath his, her body straining against him as his hands moved over it, pushing beneath the thin material of her shirt to cup her swollen breasts.

She was ready for him. He could feel it in the way her tongue met his, the hot little moans smothered by his lips. God, he had dreamed of this. Dreamed of touching her. Loving her.

Pulling his head back, he jerked her shirt over her head, staring down at her, fighting to breathe as he watched the heavy lift and fall of the firm mounds.

He loved her breasts. His hands cupped them again, fitting over the fragile lace of her bra, his thumbs raking over the tender tips as he stared back at her.

“You’re mine.” He could hear the guttural tone of his voice, but he also saw the effect of it in her eyes.

They darkened in hunger as she drew in a hard breath, her tongue licking over her swollen lips.

“I need you,” he whispered then, desperately, hungrily. “All of you, baby. Sweet and hot, and crying for me.”

He took her lips again before he made a fool of himself. Before he went to his knees and begged her to see, to understand the selfishness rising inside him. It sliced through him like the sharpest blade. The thought of another man touching what was his, taking the innocence, the sweetness of Kelly was more than he could bear.

“Rowdy…” She shuddered in his grip as he released her bra, drawing it from her shoulders before his hands went to the clasp of her jeans.

“This is mine.” He worked his hand between them to push her jeans roughly over her hips before cupping the hot, wet mound of her pussy.

His fingers delved beneath the silk of her panties, so desperate for the feel of her that taking time to completely undress her was more than he could consider.

His fingers moved through silken heat, parting the bare folds to sink into the sweet, tight depths of her slick core.

She arched into the touch, pressing against him, driving his finger further inside her as she cried into the kiss. The hot little sounds she made as he touched her had his cock throbbing in demand. He needed her. Needed to taste her, to touch her.

Now. He had to claim her.

The sharp knock at the door had his muscles clenching further in denial.

“Rowdy, we have movement out here.” Dawg’s quiet voice was dark with imminent violence. “You in on this, man?”

“No.” Kelly clutched at his shoulders as he moved back.

Son of a bitch, if he caught the bastard stalking her he was going to rip him apart with his bare hands.

“I’ll be back.” He pulled her jeans quickly back in place.

“Don’t go out there,” she cried out, her face paling as her fingers gripped his arm. “It’s too dark Rowdy, and you don’t know where he could be hiding. Wait—”

There wasn’t a chance in hell he wasn’t going out there.

“You’re mine,” he snarled, sealing the claim with a hard kiss to her lips. “All mine, Kelly. And that bastard is going to figure that out at the end of my fist or my gun. I don’t care which.”

He pulled away from her, jerking the door open and closing it before Dawg could see her, her sweet breasts rising over the lace of her bra, her pale face staring back at him with equal amounts of fear and anger.

The fear was going to be gone.

“Let’s go hunting.” He took the rifle Dawg handed to him and headed downstairs.

TWENTY

Kelly waited until nearly dawn for Rowdy, Dawg, and Natches to return to the house. Whatever or whoever had been out there had been determined not to be found. They had disappeared, leaving the three men with a growing, restless anger. And a determination to get her where they felt she would be protected.

Despite her objections, Rowdy packed her clothes and loaded her into Dawg’s truck as the sun began to rise beyond the mountains.

She was terrified, she admitted. Whoever was stalking her knew how to hide, which only made him more dangerous. The thought of Rowdy, or one of his cousins, paying for the danger stalking her was eating a bleeding wound into her soul.

Finally, despite her objections and her demands that she simply leave town, the pickup pulled into the graveled road leading to Dawg’s house.

Kelly knew the moment she saw the house why they had chosen Dawg’s as a secure location. She had forgotten about the house, built by Dawg’s parents, and set into the base of the mountain that ran through their property outside Somerset. He spent most of his time on his boat, so she hadn’t considered the house.

The huge dwelling was set into the side of the mountain, with only the front left in view. Dawg’s father had designed and overseen its building, Ray had once said, claiming that he was determined to have the most unique home in the county. And it was that.

It had been meant to be a vacation home, private, out of the way, and as unique as his parents had been. Though Rowdy had often wondered if Dawg’s father hadn’t been more than the architect he claimed to be. There were too many secrets in the Mackay family, he admitted, and one of these days, he was going to get to the bottom of them.

The face of the house was warm wood, covering steel and cement, with large windows looking out from the kitchen on the left, and the large living room on the right.

It wasn’t opulent, or expensively furnished, but it was a huge dwelling with four bedrooms, accompanied by private baths. There was an exercise room and a basement pantry–wine room larger than some apartments she had been in.

The house was built in three levels—kitchen, living room, and exercise room on the ground level, bedrooms above on the top level, and the basement on a third level. She now understood why Dawg’s father, Chandler Mackay, had been considered one of the finest architects in the nation.

It had been surprising when Dawg entered the Army then took over the lumberyard his father had owned. Everyone had expected him to step into his late father’s shoes and become an architect instead.

Rowdy led her through the large open living room to the wide hallway that opened at the back of it. There, two sets of curved wooden steps led to the other levels. He moved aside as they reached the stairs that led to the upper level, allowing her to move ahead of him.

The steps were narrow, but comfortable, and led into another short hallway and two open doors.

“The left.” He nudged her toward the open door, his voice brooking no argument as they moved into the room.

A huge king-sized bed took up the center of the room, draped with sheer curtains that hung from a steel ring in the center of the ceiling and tied at each corner of the bed.

A dark wood dresser and chest, writing desk, and vanity table sat along the walls. Scenic pictures set in frames that resembled windows on the far side of the bed. Behind it, another door opened into what was obviously a large bathroom.

“Nice,” she murmured as Rowdy moved in behind her and closed the door before setting her bags on the floor. He must have packed everything she had before they left his father’s house.

“It suits Dawg.” He shrugged negligently. “Go ahead and get settled in, take a nap if you need to. We’ll go out to dinner later.”

“I’d prefer to stay here.” She turned to him slowly, keeping her expression carefully bland.

“Too bad.” He crossed his arms over his chest as he watched her, the dark gray T-shirt he wore stretching over his rippling muscles. “Dawg, Natches, and I decided we’re going to eat out.”

“I want to be alone.” She pressed her lips firmly together. “I told you that.”

The argument had raged for hours. She couldn’t believe his complete arrogance and stubbornness. He refused to leave her alone for even a second, and he wouldn’t hear of her leaving town without him. At this point, he wouldn’t even hear of her leaving town with him. She would have settled for that.

“And I said, you can forget it,” he repeated, not for the first time as he dropped his arms and moved closer. Kelly stepped back, ignoring his dark frown. “Kelly, baby, you don’t have to worry like this, everything will be okay.”

“Sure it will.” She smiled tightly. “That’s why we’re staying in a house that could likely defend against an attack from a foreign government and your cousins are packing in enough weapons to defend against an army.”

“They’re for looks only,” he assured her. “We have a plan, I promise.”

“Like you did the other night on the lake?”

“Naw, that was just to see how rock-dumb that bastard could get. He’s dumb enough to need help breathing at this point. He won’t be that hard to catch.”

Confidence gleamed in his eyes, even as dread burned in her belly.

“He would have been caught by now if it were that easy.” She pushed her fingers through her hair as she shook her head. “You’re underestimating him, Rowdy.”

“Maybe you’re underestimating me,” he grunted as his hands whipped out, pulling her into his embrace before she could avoid him.

Heat instantly sizzled across her body, nearly taking her breath as he pressed the hard length of his erection against her belly.

“Want me to help you shower?” He nuzzled his face against her neck, his tongue licking over her pulse erotically as his fingers clenched at her hips.

Kelly gripped his shoulders, certain the weakness in her knees was going to become a permanent thing if he didn’t stop touching her so damned much. She needed to think; she didn’t need her mind clogged by his kiss, his passion.

“I can manage alone.” Her voice was hoarse, despite the strength she attempted to inject into it.

“Hmm.” He lifted his head, staring down at her knowingly before whispering, “I bet you can, but can you manage this alone?”

His lips caught hers before she could do more than gasp, covering them, taking them as his tongue licked at the curves, tempting her to play with him.

How she had always longed to play in just such a way with Rowdy. His lips tugged at hers as he stared down at her, his eyes heavy-lidded and darkening with sexual hunger. His tongue stroked over hers, retreated, then came back for more until she was moaning and reaching for him, desperate for the kiss he was teasing her with.

“Hungry for me, baby?” His voice was dark velvet, rasping against her senses as she arched against him.

“I’ve always been hungry for you,” she whispered, nipping back at his lips as his eyes narrowed, his expression becoming primitive, deepening with sexual energy as her hands smoothed from his shoulders to his chest and lower.

She needed him. She had never pretended otherwise. She needed everything he was, everything he wanted and needed to give her.

She gripped the material of his T-shirt, pulling it quickly from the band of his jeans as she allowed her nails to rake his flesh. The trembling response that raced over his body sent flashes of erotic heat tingling between her thighs.

“Take the shirt off, Rowdy.” She pushed the hem to his chest before lowering her head, her lips pressing to the hair-spattered skin beneath the flat, hard male nipple that drew her attention. “I want you naked. I want you against me, inside me.”