Waylon was totally pissed off.
His brothers joined him. They watched and waited, as each wild partier got out of the water. One by one, they shook and shivered, realizing that they didn’t have any towels.
Galen lifted Regan up into his arms and carried her off to his truck. Velma and her friends grabbed their clothes and headed toward the fire they’d built near the bunkhouse closer to the main house. The others gathered around followed.
“Come on, Amelia. Join us,” some guys yelled to her and she shook her head.
“I’m going to go change.”
“We can help you,” one guy and his two buddies offered and Waylon looked at Murphy.
“We got her,” Murphy stated firmly and the three men immediately turned around and ran to catch up with the others.
Amelia looked up and appeared shocked to see them.
Ricky held her dress.
“What would you have done if those men followed you back to the cottage?” Waylon reprimanded her.
She shivered then stared straight up at him. As she went to place her hands on her hips, she teetered slightly and he knew she had been drinking. Her breasts moved with the motion and his dick grew even harder than it was from her earlier striptease.
“Give me my dress, Ricky.”
“No,” Ricky said.
“The shoes and dress are Regan’s. I borrowed them,” she slurred.
“Let’s get you inside and dried off,” Brody stated.
“No. I can do it myself. Although Waylon doesn’t think I can take care of myself.” She began to walk and nearly tripped. Waylon grabbed her hips to steady her. Her skin was ice cold. If they didn’t get her warmed up, she would have a serious cold by morning.
“Come on. Let’s walk together.”
“No. I’m not falling for your seductive charms. Not any of you. If I wanted company in my bed tonight, then I would have gone home with Paul and Will when they asked me to,” she blurted out then began to walk.
Waylon heard his brothers curse, and he was instantly pissed off as he lowered his shoulder and lifted Amelia up off of the ground. She bounced on top of his shoulder as he turned and headed toward her cottage.
“Put me down, Waylon.”
He ignored her and her complaints of dizziness as she slapped his ass, his thighs, and bare back. He hadn’t even bothered to put a shirt on, just his jeans as he and his brothers headed outside.
They got to her cottage and he opened the door. It was unlocked.
“You left your door unlocked. Those men could have—”
Murphy slammed the door closed behind them.
Waylon slowly lowered Amelia’s feet to the floor. She swayed a moment and he bent down to keep his hands on her hips to steady her. She was only about five feet four inches tall. Now standing here, bare foot and practically naked, she appeared so feminine and petite surrounded by him and his brothers. They were all over six feet tall and muscular.
He stared at the cleavage of her large breasts, then her firm, taut belly, and of course the sexy tattoo. It was a floral design on a vine over her hip bone. It dipped toward her panties and he felt the tinge of jealousy for the tattoo artist that worked so close to her pussy. It was weird.
As he stared at the design, he noticed the darker center to one of the flowers, but then Amelia moved her hands to push his off of her.
“I can stand on my own, Waylon. I’m not that drunk,” she slurred and then turned and nearly fell. Murphy was right behind her, holding a towel to wrap her in.
He covered her and she snuggled into the warm towel as Murphy lifted her up and against him.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a panic.