Or rather she tried to scream.
One hard hand buried itself in the hair at the back of her head, tugging, pulling at it as the other tightened at her hip and the control he’d just had a handle on slipped completely.
Coming over her, Doogan settled at her shoulder, his teeth clenching at her flesh like an animal and pushing her higher as he began thrusting inside her with such hard, deep lunges she felt the ecstasy gathering like supercharged particles. Increasing, moving faster inside her, hotter, tightening . . .
“Oh . . . Doogan . . .” She cried out for him when it overtook her.
Heady, white hot, blinding her with the intensity of the orgasm that detonated inside her with such force, such steadily increasing pleasure she swore for a second she might have died from it.
“Ah hell . . . Zoey . . . Damn you, Zoey . . .” Fiery, lashing, the jetting pulses of his release inside her only added to the ecstasy. Each pumping ejaculation increased the sultry splendor and the orgasm she could feel invading every part of her.
Her breath caught, held just before the racking, uncontrolled shudders of rapture began tearing through her again. And Zoey swore she felt a part of her very spirit open, felt the pleasure invade it, and felt Doogan mark her there even as he marked the flesh he held captive at her shoulder.
As the brutal shudders of ecstasy eased away, she collapsed beneath him, breathless, exhausted.
“Witch,” he groaned, pulling from her as their too-sensitive flesh reacted with a sensation far too close to renewed need. “You’ll kill me.”
She grinned. “Hmm, good way to go, huh?”
Lying beside her and pulling her into his arms, he gave her an odd, almost amused grin. “The best, sweetheart. The best way to go.”
So why, she wondered, did he sound so damned somber and filled with regret?
TEN
The next evening Zoey couldn’t stand the isolation of the apartment any longer. The mark on her neck hadn’t yet faded enough for her comfort, and the fact that she was confining herself to the apartment to ensure her family didn’t see it, was only pissing her off. She couldn’t have a life that entailed anything her brother disapproved of. She couldn’t have a motorcycle that he knew about because it was just too dangerous. And don’t even think about having a lover. Unless he chose that lover for her. She hated it. Hated having to hide so much of who she was and what she wanted. Working out again lasted no more than half an hour. She couldn’t concentrate on the painting she’d started weeks before. And she needed to escape. The restlessness was only growing and she didn’t know why. Why was it tormenting her now? Why did her apartment seem too closed in, her mind her enemy and her life racing out of control?
And why the hell was she hiding, too damned scared to leave because someone might tell her brother she had a hickey? It was making her crazy.
Dressed in jeans, tank, and sneakers an hour later, she escaped and headed out of town in the little roadster she’d managed to buy off Billy Ray the year before. The restlessness she couldn’t seem to do anything with was like an itch she couldn’t scratch, simply because she couldn’t find it. Irritating as hell, impossible to ignore. That feeling that she was forgetting something important from those dreams was like that itch. She knew it was there, it was making her crazy, but she just couldn’t locate the right spot to scratch.
Eli wasn’t even around to distract her.
He hadn’t returned yet, and he’d been acting damned strange since Doogan had begun sleeping with her. She rarely saw him and she found she actually missed him a little. Especially now, when the need to burn away the restlessness required at least a good sparring match.
Driving to her sister Lyrica’s, Zoey grimaced at the sight of Natches’s car parked in the driveway as she neared the turnoff. Graham’s Viper was absent and she had no doubt he was meeting Doogan somewhere. It was nearing dark and she had no idea what Doogan thought of as late, so she had no idea when he’d be back to the apartment.
Being alone was preferable to having Natches interrogate her, though. He’d been doing that for a while now whenever he saw her. What had she been doing? Who were her friends, was she dating anyone yet? She felt like a damned teenager again.
Rather than pulling into the driveway and dealing with her cousin’s questions and general nosiness, Zoey continued along the back road as it wound along the edge of Graham’s property before circling along a tributary of the lake and heading back to town.
As she came to a stop sign before turning onto the main road nearly twenty minutes later, car lights suddenly flicked on, a motor racing, before a vehicle tore from a graveled side road and barreled toward her.
Instinct had Zoey hitting the gas, the car’s motor that her cousin Natches kept in peak condition responding immediately. The tires bit into blacktop and threw her forward, the back end fishtailing before she righted it and managed by inches to keep the truck from running over her. Cursing, she glanced at her rearview mirror, the lights of the other vehicle gaining on her fast once again.
“I don’t need this,” she snarled. “You’ve had it, Billy. I’ll kick your ass for this.” Right after she called his stepbrother, Clay.
Dawg would go apeshit if Billy actually managed to touch the bumper of her car.
Just as she neared the turnoff to Graham and Lyrica’s home, the truck’s horn sounded behind her, raucous and strident. Red and green trim lights flicked on along the grill of the truck, assuring her she hadn’t been wrong about the identity of the asshole behind her.
That boy had a few screws loose, and that was all there was to it. Slowing, she let the moron race around her only to groan at the sight of Natches standing on Graham’s front porch through the trees separating the house from the main road. There was no doubt he’d heard Billy Ray, and he’d have definitely recognized the sound of her car, motor revving and tires screaming as she tore out of the side road. If she didn’t stop, he’d be at her place within minutes of Graham’s arrival, which would probably coincide with Doogan’s arrival at her apartment.
Turning onto the narrow road again Zoey made the turn into the narrower lane leading to her sister and brother-in-law’s home.
Turning off the ignition, Zoey slid from the car and headed up the walk.
“Okay, sis?” Concern filled Natches’s emerald-green eyes when Zoey stepped to the porch.
He was her cousin, but Dawg, Natches, and Rowdy were often mistaken for brothers by those unaware of the Mackay family history. And she loved them like brothers. Overprotective, affectionate, always loving, brothers.
“The little moron.” She rolled her eyes at Billy Ray’s antics as his hand settled at her back, leading her into the house.
“Where’s Lyrica?” she asked.
“Her room, with the babies,” he answered, his voice relaxed enough, but there was an edge of tension in his expression that warned her that Billy Ray’s future could be in question. “That was Billy Ray tearing around you, wasn’t it?”
She heard that carefully bland tone and knew it for what it was. It wouldn’t be much longer before Billy was sporting Mackay bruises.
“Dammit, Natches, they’re friends. Let it go,” she demanded, turning to face him as she entered the hall, knowing if she didn’t confront it now then she’d only have to deal with it later.
“I heard you tearing onto the road a mile away, Zoey,” he refuted, concern flickering in his gaze. Concern and no small amount of anger. “The way the motor was screaming, you were scared. Don’t deny it.”
She didn’t hesitate. One never hesitated when it came to Natches. Going to her tip toes, she shoved her finger in his face, anger tightening her expression.
“If you, Rowdy, or Dawg or any of your cohorts lay one hand on my friends, Natches, I swear I’ll head straight to California. Seth and Saul have promised I could stay with them any time I want. Keep pushing me, Natches, and my ‘want to’ just may get real deep and intense. Know what I’m saying?”
The Navy
SEAL August twins had made the offer more than once after hearing about her brother’s and cousins’ attempts to protect the sisters.
It distracted him, though. His gaze had strayed to her neck, where she’d pulled her hair over her shoulder to hide Doogan’s mark. At least, she hoped it was still hidden.
“That worries me?” he snorted. “Hell, Zoey, those boys of Cade’s and Marley’s are a hell of a lot more protective than we are.”
Natches might have to redefine their ideas of protection.
“And I wouldn’t forget, cousin,” she reminded him with a fierce glare. “The Mackay sisters and the August brothers are just kissin’ cousins, and those are some fine-lookin’ Texas boys.”
Natches actually stepped back in shock before he blinked as though he couldn’t believe she’d said something so outrageous. “You wouldn’t . . .”
Well, no, not now she wouldn’t. But he didn’t have to know that, now did he?
“The Mackay cousins could when they were my age,” she reminded him. “Do you think I wouldn’t get happy-happy with two of those bad boys if you dared me, Natches? Push me and find out.”
Walker’s Run Bar
Doogan saw the confrontation, outrage and pure white-hot, livid lust surging through him at the threat she made to her cousin.
“Oh, fuck!” Eli snickered as he watched the live feed from Graham’s security camera on John Walker’s large-screen television. Lyrica had called her husband the second Zoey had stepped into the hall and laughingly told him to pull up the security feed.
“Damn, Zoey.” Natches rubbed at his chest, the camera catching his wince and that expression of disbelief on his face.
“Acid reflux,” Graham guessed, chuckling as he glanced at Doogan. “This is about to get good.”
“You’re making my acid reflux burn,” Natches grimaced.
“Test me, Natches.” She bared her teeth, heavy black lashes narrowing over her pale green eyes. “Not a single bruise.”
“You wouldn’t . . .”
“Winter gets real cold,” she reminded him softly, and the faintest hint of sensuality flickering over her expression had his teeth grinding. “A set of those twins would keep me just nice and warm, don’t you think? You know how much I hate the winter. You really want to test me on it?”
Oh, like hell.
Doogan could feel every bone and muscle in his body tightening in outrage as he watched. Natches blinked. If her cousin’s expression was anything to go by, he was just as outraged. And furious. Not to mention fucking speechless.
“Not even one bruise,” she snarled. “Not by you or any of your friends, or you just watch me.”
Elijah and Graham were choking on their laughter. Doogan was grinding his molars to nubs.
Graham stood, legs braced and arms crossed over his chest, head covered as his shoulders shook. Eli leaned against John Walker’s desk, moisture building in his eyes as he tried to contain his mirth.
“Is she serious?” John questioned, barely getting the words out as Natches seemed to pale on the large screen.
“Oh, she would do it or die if he pushed her,” Graham chuckled. “And Natches knows it. If any Mackay or his friend touches Billy Ray, she’ll head straight to Seth and Saul. And they’d go head to head with anyone dumb enough to stand between them and a woman they took as a lover. Even a Mackay.”
Doogan felt his lips tightening. Thankfully, he wasn’t a friend of Billy Ray’s or the Mackays’. He could beat the shit out of the little fucker.
“I’m going to assume we’re finished here?” He’d had enough of the show Lyrica had informed her husband was being played out in their home.
“Now, I’m going to go see Lyrica and the babies,” Zoey stated. Settling back and taking a deep breath, she pushed the hair back from her face before giving her cousin a sweet smile, even as she flashed the dark mark he’d left on her lower neck, almost hidden by her curls until she flipped them back. “And I still love you, cuz,” she promised. “No matter what you push me into doing.”
Natches actually flinched, but not at her reminder. He’d seen that mark himself, and Doogan swore he paled further. There was no mistaking the fact that Natches’s gaze had lingered just that second too long on her neck or that he swallowed a little tightly, no doubt biting back his outrage.
“Well, Zoey, I love you too.” Natches cleared his throat. “But I really don’t want to kill one of those August brats.”
“Might be interesting to see the attempt.” She frowned, and Doogan wondered if she noticed Natches had a slow, deep burn rousing his notorious Mackay temper. “Navy SEALs. And they look pretty tough to me. You might have a fight on your hands there.”
Turning from him, Zoey moved quickly up the stairs while Natches blew out a hard breath and shook his head as though to clear it.
“Damn,” Elijah breathed out in amazement. “Fuck me. She won.”
“She usually does,” Graham assured him thoughtfully.
“Good night, gentlemen.” Doogan headed for the door. “Perhaps tomorrow the three of you can keep your minds on the meeting.”
He intended to be waiting when Zoey arrived home. He’d just have to see how firm her resolve was in having that pert little butt spanked and then penetrated. Those August boys never took a woman alone, and greatly enjoyed taking their women anally.
Hell, Doogan thought, she’d probably blow his mind there too.
Several things were for damned sure, though. If she even considered heading to Texas or California, then she’d deal with him. And he’d be having a talk with Billy Ray very soon.
Very damned soon.
Leaving Graham, Eli, and John to chortle over Natches mumbling now, Doogan headed back to Zoey’s. Before turning onto the street that passed the converted warehouse, he parked beneath a heavily leaved oak tree on the street bordering the apartment. Shutting the motor off, he reached behind the passenger seat, removed a set of night-vision goggles hanging from it, and pulled them on over his head.
As thorough as he was, still, he nearly missed the single presence positioned just across from the front entrance of Zoey’s apartment. The heat signature he caught sight of was watching the front lane leading into the building, his profile to the back entrance of Zoey’s home, though any lights would draw his attention.
Positioned on the roof of the discount store, cleverly tucked between two vents, Doogan would have missed him if the watcher had settled into position just a few inches deeper into the small area.
Well now, who was so very interested in Zoey tonight that hadn’t been interested in her before?
Fortunately, there was something very familiar about the height and demeanor of the watcher. Doogan knew the men he worked with, especially those he’d sent out for shadow ops training as he had that one.
There was no way to get his truck up the lane to the back of the warehouse without being seen, though. And until he was certain if the watcher was an enemy or friendly, then he’d just as soon remain hidden. Leaving the vehicle parked where it was would draw attention as well. Mackay attention no doubt.
That left maneuvering it, in the dark and without lights, along the narrow path sheltered by heavily leaved oak trees that bordered the back of the property. It was doable, if he was lucky. And he was feeling lucky.
Securing the night-vision glasses to his head, Doogan slid the vehicle into drive, the sound of traffic among the nearby streets hopefully enough to cover the smooth purr of the motor as he used the trees to hide his turn onto the sidewalk, then along the property bordering the warehouse until he came to the line of sheltering trees.
Keeping a wary eye on the watcher’s position, Doogan eased the truck along the tree line, then into the garage with surprising speed. Using the fob Zoey had given him, he ensured that the security was reset, turned off the truck, and stepped from it.
Careful to keep the lights out, he moved quickly and quietly up the metal stairs, the night-vision goggles firmly in place. He made hi
s way quickly through the upper level to Zoey’s room, where he’d have a clear view to the roof across the clearing. Tearing the goggles off as he reached beneath the bed, he pulled the rifle he’d stored there free and stepped to the curtained window.
Zoey’d be returning soon and he’d be damned if he’d let some bastard take her out. Even if it meant revealing himself in her life to her brother and cousins. He eased the barrel of the weapon to the edge of where the curtains met and adjusted the night-vision sights.
His lips thinned at the sight of the watcher in clear view now, night vision attached to his head as well and staring back at Doogan.
His cell phone vibrated with an incoming text.
I got this, the message read.
Got what?
Your back, bro! the watcher typed back. Your back!
“Fuck!”
We need to talk. Now! Doogan demanded.
Later. Don’t get distracted. Protect Zoey!
No! Now! Doogan demanded. Will come to you!
Later, bro!
Have to talk . . .
There was no answer. The message waited; the icon indicating that it was unread stayed next to it.
“Damn you!” He checked the rooftop again, but it appeared deserted. Son of a bitch, what the hell was Harley up to?
Later, bro, his ass. That damned kid was going to end up pissing him the hell off. And his mood was already iffy after hearing Zoey’s threats to head to California.
Dammit. Those August brats were family to her. Third or fourth cousins, he was certain.
Kissing cousins.
Like hell.
Pacing the bedroom, he waited for her return; the thought of her allowing those damned women-sharing bastards to touch her was more than he could tolerate. He’d be damned if he’d allow it.
Raking his fingers through his hair in frustration, Doogan refused to delve into the reasons why he was so damned pissed off over it. Because he’d never cared before who or what a woman was doing. If he found himself disapproving of a woman’s actions or interests, then he simply moved on. There were plenty of women in the world.