The Nymph King Read Online Free PDF Page A

her?
    â€œMine,” her mom said on a wispy catch of breath, still lost in some sort of trance. “All mine.”
    Never ceasing their confident swaggers, the warriors exited the water and dropped the still-unconscious scuba-men on the beach. Arms now free, the warrior in the middle cocked his finger, beckoning Shaye over to him. Shivering, drowning in his maleness, she somehow managed to shake her head no. Go to him, her naughty mind beseeched. She shook her head again, violently this time.
    The man’s smooth chin canted to the side, and he frowned. “Come here,” he said, his voice a husky whisper that drifted over the small distance, as intoxicating and heady as an erotic caress.
    Another shiver slipped down her spine, so intense she almost fell to her knees. What would happen if he actually touched her? What would happen if he trailed those luscious pink lips along her every curve and hollow?
    Stop, Shaye, a small, rational voice inside her commanded. Just stop.
    â€œCome here,” he repeated.
    â€œYes,” her mom said, already stepping toward them. The dreamy glaze in her eyes darkened with eagerness. “I need to touch you. Please let me touch you.”
    The part of Shaye that acknowledged these men were dangerous also acknowledged there was something wrong with her mom—and with herself—but she still couldn’t seem to care. A stunningly intense sensual fog was weaving through her mind, and nothing else mattered.
    â€œFight this,” she told herself. “Fight this, whatever it is.” Waging a mental war, she kicked and shoved at the sudden images of herself and that man, naked and straining together, his mouth on her breasts, his fingers slipping inside her, her legs parting, giving him better access….
    â€œNo. No!” she ground out. Even as she spoke, a blanket of calm settled over her thoughts. A familiar, icy wall encased her emotions, pushing away everything but the need to escape.
    These men, whoever— whatever —they were, were dangerous, their intentions obviously malicious. They had swords, for God’s sake, and they radiated lust. Blood lust, sexual lust, she didn’t know.
    They were almost upon her.
    Scowling, fear cresting, she reached out and latched on to her mom’s arm, jerking Tamara to a halt. “Don’t go near them.”
    â€œMust…touch.”
    â€œWe have to get help, warn the others. Something!”
    â€œLet me go.” She struggled against Shaye’s hold, desperate to free herself. “I have to—”
    â€œ We have to go back to the tent. Now move!” Dragging her flailing mother behind her, Shaye raced toward the reception area, toward the laughing voices, soft music and unsuspecting guests.
    As she ran, she dared a glance behind her. The men hadn’t slowed, hadn’t turned away. Lust and hunger intensified in their features as they followed her.
    â€œHelp us,” she shouted, kicking sand with every step. She swept the curtain aside and entered the tent. “Someone call 911!”
    No one heard her. They were too busy dancing and drinking themselves into oblivion, thanks to the open bar.
    â€œLet me go,” her mom continued to shout. When that failed to gain her freedom, she sank her sharp little teeth into Shaye’s arm.
    â€œGoddamn it!” Shaye did the only thing she couldthink of: she hooked her foot behind her mom’s ankles and pushed, sending the bride hurling backward into the dessert table. Food and platters crashed to the ground, but at least her mom remained horizontal, trying to catch her breath.
    Several people glanced at Shaye, then at the fallen bride. Their eyes widened, some in confusion, some in horror, but mostly in amusement.
    â€œThere are men—” Shaye pointed “—out there. Dangerous men. They have swords. Does anyone have a gun? Did someone call 911?”
    Reoriented, her mom jolted to her feet,