Nauti Boy (Nauti #1)
Page 2“No, you’re always sneaking up on us.” There was that nervous smile again, the way her eyes darted around the room.
Rowdy held himself where he was, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He could be a patient man when he had to be. But he had also learned that sometimes, there was no choice but to forge ahead and confront whatever enemy waited in the dark. He’d learned to forge ahead just as well as he had learned to wait.
“What’s going on, Kelly?” He straightened from the doorway, dropped his arms, and tucked his thumbs in the waistband of his low-slung jeans.
His chest was bare, the cooling breeze from the air conditioner drying the sweat that had dampened his flesh. He’d been cleaning the Harley, polishing his baby and getting her ready for her first ride in over a year. He’d dumped his duffel bag in his room and headed straight for the garage, knowing his father and stepmother would be at the marina, and figuring Kelly would be there as well.
The fact that she wasn’t was interesting. Her reaction to him even more so.
“Nothing’s going on.” That damned quick, nervous little smile was starting to get on his nerves.
She was scared of him, and it was eating a hole in his soul. Kelly had never been scared of him, not once, he had always made certain of it. Now she was watching him as though she were terrified he was going to jump her any second.
“You’re a lousy liar, baby,” he grunted, heading for the fridge and watching as she edged out of his way.
She kept her eyes on him, watching him suspiciously as he opened the door and grabbed a bottle of water. Uncapping it, his gaze locked with hers, he brought it slowly to his lips.
Now there was a glimmer of the girl he had left eight years ago. Shyly watching as he drank from the bottle, her little tongue flicking out to swipe over her own lips, as though she were thirsty. A hungry little gleam filled the soft depths of her eyes, darkening them, making them appear stormy, cloudy as it mixed with the fear.
“When did you get back?” She crossed her arms over her breasts, tearing her gaze from his. “Do Mom and Ray know you’re home?”
“Not yet.” He recapped the bottle and set it on the kitchen isle as he continued to watch her. “I had Dawg pick me up from the airport this morning. We pulled in here about seven.”
She nodded, a jerky little movement that had his fingers tightening as he watched her. The suspicion growing in his mind sent black anger swirling through him. Something had changed her, something dark and ugly, and he could see it in her eyes, in the regret and the anger and the fear that filled her expression.
The girl he had loved nearly all her life was terrified of him. She wasn’t wary, or nervous, she was flat out scared. This was the same girl he had held as a child when her father died. He’d been a scrawny teenager, she had been too young to understand the sudden death that had rocked her world, and had sought out the boy who ruffled her hair, teased her about her skinned knees, and protected her from the bullies.
This was the same girl he’d taken to her senior prom when her date had stood her up. The one he had danced with on the dance floor and had to hide his erection from because he knew he couldn’t touch her, couldn’t have her. The girl he had kissed one night when he’d had too much to drink, the one he had touched too intimately before he headed back to base four years before. She was his girl, and suddenly, she was terrified of him.
What little color had returned to her face, drained. Her eyes jerked to his, then away, her throat working as she swallowed tightly.
“I have to get dressed. I have to get to work.” She turned on her heel, moving for the doorway.
“Kelly.” Knowing he was making a mistake, feeling that knowledge to the soles of his booted feet, Rowdy reached out to catch her wrist.
His fingers touched her, curled around the bare skin when she shrieked, turning on him with a flash of fear as she jerked away from him, her body tightening defensively.
“What?” She gave it a good fight. She tried to cover her reaction, but the way she suddenly backed away from him and the fear on her face gave her away. There was no hiding the fact that his touch had terrified her. “Kelly, where’s Dad?” He kept his voice cool. But fury was racing through him. Only one thing could cause a reaction like this, only one thing would have changed the teasing, tempting little minx he had known into a terrified, scurrying little rabbit.
“The marina.” She licked her lips again, her gaze jumping away from him, her expression warring between fear and frustration. “I have to get dressed. I’ll…I’ll be down later.”
She ran from him. As quick as that she turned tail in those sloppy, ill-fitting clothes she was wearing and moved from the kitchen to the staircase in the entryway and rushed upstairs.
She left him alone in the sunlit kitchen, his fists clenched, anger surging in his gut, and his suspicions all but confirmed.
He turned abruptly and stalked to the phone, ripping it from its base, and punched in the marina’s number.
He waited through four rings impatiently, one hand propped on his hip, the other clenched around the phone with a force that should have shattered it.
“Mackay Marina.” His father’s booming voice suddenly came over the receiver.
“Hey, Dad, how’s it going?” Rowdy kept his voice calm, controlled.
“Hey, Rowdy, not too bad.” Ray Mackay chuckled. “How did you get to call so early? That CO of yours sleeping on the job?”
“Hell if I know,” he drawled. “I didn’t sign up for another tour, Dad.” He had planned to, had every intention of doing so until his last birthday passed and he realized that running from some things wasn’t working. “I’m home. Showed up about seven this morning.” Tension suddenly sizzled across the line.
“You’re home?” His dad’s voice was deliberately bland, the tone mild. But Rowdy knew his dad, sometimes too well.
He wasn’t a fool, but even if he had been the muttered curse that came across the line would have warned him.
“We’re on our way home.” Ray confirmed his worst fears. “We need to talk.”
Rowdy hung up the phone, stared around the kitchen, then breathed out heavily.
Damn. He came home to court his favorite girl, to settle down, to stop fighting what he knew was a losing battle. Had he come home too late?
Kelly let the hot water from the shower flow over her, wash away her tears, though it couldn’t wash away the feeling of hands holding her down, of fetid breath on her face and hard, wet lips covering hers.
It couldn’t drown out the rage and anger, or the fear. The water turned her skin pink from the heat and stung her tender flesh, but it couldn’t ease the need that lay just below the memories of a night she feared had changed her life forever.
Rowdy was home. All six feet, four inches of hard, muscled flesh and teasing sea green eyes. He was home after more than a year away, a man full-grown, mature, and sexy as hell.
She wiped at her tears again, her breath hitching in her throat as she remembered one of the few nights she had followed him to the lake. The houseboat was Rowdy’s pride and joy, and it was his escape. And she knew where he would head, to the Point, a serene cove where he and his buddies gathered on the weekends to drink, fish, let off steam, and party out the excessive energy they always seemed to have.
“Dad’ll kill me.” He had been just a little drunk, and way too sexy. His sea green eyes had darkened, his expression growing heavy with desire as he pressed her against a tree.
They had been hidden in the shadows from the rest of the group, sheltered. The heat of summer and lust had wrapped around them. He had been a man, and she had been too innocent, too uncertain in how to contain the need that pulsed in every cell of her body.
“I won’t tell him,” she had whispered, her palms smoothing up his chest, feeling the prickle of the light growth of body hair that spread over his torso as his hands gripped her hips, pulling her against his thighs.
“He’ll know I touched you.” His lips had quirked into a smile. “You’re like pure, raw liquor, Kelly. And you go to my head faster.”
She had fought to breathe, to contain the explosion of satisfaction and joy that rushed through her bloodstream.
“I’m leaving again tomorrow, baby.” At first the words hadn’t made sense. “I took another tour. Damned good thing, because sure as hell I’d end up doing this, and fuck us both up for good.”
Agony had washed over her body even as pleasure had exploded into fragmented, flickering rays of sensation. His lips had covered hers, his tongue teasing her as he sampled her kiss then tasted the tears that fell from her eyes.
He had kissed her as though he were starved for her. One hand had curled in her long hair, the other had cupped her breast, his thumb rasping over her engorged nipple, their moans blending together as the summer night enfolded them.
The hard length of his cock had pressed between her thighs. Even through the heavy material of his jeans she had felt the throb of his erection, the length of it, the promise of passion and satisfaction.
“Don’t leave,” she had whispered as he drew back from her. “Don’t go, Rowdy.”
“If I don’t, I’ll ruin us both forever…” He had set her from him, staring down at her, his eyes raging with lust. “Don’t forget me, darlin’, because sure as hell, I don’t think I’ll ever forget you.”
He had never touched her again. He had taken her back to the shore and walked her the short distance to the small parking area above the Point. He had put her in her car and sent her home. And the next morning, he was gone. And he had not touched her since. She had lived on fantasy and dreams, because Rowdy made certain there was no chance of a repeat performance. And she had plotted and planned for his return. She had moved out of her mother’s home into a small apartment in town. She had begun monthly visits to the local spa where she was plucked, waxed, toned, and lotioned on a regular basis. For too short a time.
Within three months of moving out all her dreams had turned to ashes and fear had taken their place. Her own foolishness had led to her downfall, and pulling herself from the shadows of the terror she had experienced was taking all her strength. She didn’t know if she could survive dealing with Rowdy and her need for him, on top of it.
She leaned her head against the shower wall, her breath hitching as she fought back tears. He knew something was wrong. There was no way to hide it. She looked at him now and she didn’t just see the man she had been in love with since she was a kid. She saw someone she couldn’t fight, couldn’t struggle from if she needed to. She saw a threat.
Her fists clenched as she pressed them against the tile, anger building in her chest until she wondered if she would be able to hold back the screams that pressed at the back of her throat.
She loved him. She had loved him forever. Dreamed of him, ached for him, waited for him. And now she was too damned scared to even welcome him home.
Are you my good girl, Kelly?
She flinched at the memory of the scratchy voice at her ear as a hard male body held her down, as the slickened fingers of the other hand probed between her buttocks, ignoring her struggles, her muted screams through the gag over her mouth.
She had been bleeding from the numerous cuts he had made on her body after he tied her spread-eagle on her bed. The wounds had burned like fire as they bled, the adrenaline pumping through her making the blood race and pour from the cuts. It had made her weak, made it hard to think, to work the hastily tied gag loose enough for one piercing scream as she felt him attempt to penetrate her rear.
God, she hated the memory of it. Hated the feeling of helplessness that followed her, even now. She had been unable to fight; unable to protest anything he did to her. And the nightmares that alone brought left her shaking in the darkest hours of the night.