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Drantos (VLG Series Book 1) Page 2
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Relief swept through Dusti at hearing her older sister’s aggravated voice and it tore her from her traumatized state. “Bat? Are you okay?”
“Dusti! Thank goodness you’re alive. Are you all right? Get off me, asshole! You weigh a thousand pounds. I need to check on my sister.”
“Maybe I would get off you if you weren’t gripping my dick. That’s not my thigh you’ve been clutching in terror, woman,” Kraven snarled. “Let go!”
“Ewww!” Bat squealed. “Get off me! My hand is trapped there, damn it.”
The man still pinning Dusti to her seat chuckled. “Did I introduce myself? I’m Drantos.”
“Let me go. Please get off.” Dusti hated the way her voice trembled enough to make it sound more like a feeble plea than a demand.
He arched an eyebrow. “That’s all you’ve got to say to me after I saved your life? I believe this is where you’re supposed to say thank you and tell me your name.”
Dusti was still suffering from shock but this had to be the strangest conversation she’d ever had. “Your belt buckle is digging into my…um…” She tried to wiggle her hips away from his but it only caused more discomfort. The metal object pressed against her panties pushed in deeper, causing her to wince.
He jerked his hips back to put a few inches between their bodies but he glanced down. His smile turned into an outright grin. “Sorry about that. I hope I didn’t damage you down there. That would be a crime. I love bright red, by the way. Is that a thong? I can only see the front.”
Her mouth hung open and she gawked speechlessly until she realized he continued to stare at her exposed lap. She shoved at him with her hands, pushing hard against his massive chest, and tried to put her feet on the floor to scoot back in the seat and away from the obviously deranged pervert.
He let her go, still grinning as she grabbed at her skirt to shove it down the tops of her thighs to regain her modesty.
The sound of a sobbing woman filtered through Dusti’s shock-hazed brain and her jumbled thoughts. Other noises slowly penetrated and she became more aware of her surroundings when Drantos rose to his feet to loom over her, no longer touching as he stepped aside to stand in front of Bat’s empty seat. He surveyed the plane, his features set in a grim expression. Dusti heard soft whispers then someone cursing from the back of the plane. It sank in that the four of them weren’t the only survivors.
She peered up at Drantos, since he kept her trapped in the row with his body planted between her and the aisle. He sniffed the air, made a distasteful grimace, before peering over the seats in front of them. He turned his head, staring down at the floor of the aisle.
“Are you going to just lay there on top of her or are you going to get up? It’s no time to take a nap, Kraven.”
“Go to hell. I think she crushed something vital when she squeezed my dick. I’m trying to recover. She’s got nothing on a cock ring, that’s for sure.”
Drantos shook his head. “You’re going to give her a bad impression if you don’t watch your mouth.”
“Like I give a damn what she thinks,” Kraven grunted as he climbed to his feet.
Dusti stared at the other man when he appeared in the aisle a row ahead of where she sat. His black hair looked worse for wear, some of his spikes crushed flat on one side of his head. It gave him the bedhead look of a punker gone bad. Maybe a punk biker, considering the leather jacket he was sporting. He frowned down at something below him.
“What are you? A masseuse?” He lifted his chin and shot Drantos a dirty look. “I swear she crushed my dick.”
Bat struggled to her feet, her blonde hair in a messy ponytail now that her neat bun had been loosened from the crash. She glowered at the man, who gave her that angry look right back. “Why did you grab me like that? What the hell is your problem?”
“I was protecting you. I’m Kraven. You can thank me later, by the way.”
“Thank you?” Bat gawked at him. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t have your ass arrested for sexual assault, battery, and…hell, bad hair! Move out of my way. I need to check on my sister.” Bat tried to shove him aside, her gaze locking on Dusti. Relief showed on her features.
Dusti forced her body to move and she tried to stand but Drantos held out his arm, holding up a hand as if to tell her to stay. She stared up at him.
“Could you please move? You’re in my way.”
He arched a black eyebrow at her. “My brother can take care of your sister. He’s in charge of her now. You just stay put while I deal with this mess.”
Shock rolled through Dusti again. In charge of her? His words played through her mind. They left her even more confused as her gaze flickered back and forth between the two men standing just feet apart, with only a seat between them. They both had tan skin, huge bodies and black hair, but she wouldn’t have previously pegged them for brothers.
Now, as she stared, she started to see some similarities—the strong bone structure for one and the generous lips for another. The spiked-haired guy had light blue eyes though instead of dark.
“Help me,” a man called from the back of the plane. “Please, help!”
Drantos sighed. “I’ve got it.” He inched out from between the seats and into the aisle. “Kraven, watch them and keep them both where they are. We’ve got dead bodies in here, and panicked types who I never trust not to go crazy in a crisis.”
Kraven nodded. “I have the women.”
“Have this, you jerk.” Batina sounded riled still.
Dusti flinched when her sister nailed the unsuspecting guy in the chest with her expensive footwear. Kraven staggered back in astonishment and Bat lunged around him to reach her. Dusti rose to her feet on trembling legs, a moment of wooziness making her see spots, but she pushed the sensation back to hug her sister.
Bat clung to her tightly, both of them enormously relieved the other had survived.
Dusti pulled back enough to get a really good look at her sister’s face. There was a red mark near Bat’s right temple. It wasn’t bleeding but it looked as if it might become a bruise. Her complexion was unnaturally pale but Dusti figured she probably had that in common with her. They’d just been in a plane crash, for God’s sake.
“It’s okay, Bat. I’m okay. Are you hurt?”
Bat eased her hold on her a little. “Nothing a good drink won’t fix. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Dusti gave a little nod but then looked away from her sister to stare in dismay at the cabin around them. Injured people were still strapped in their seats, but worse, a guy lay sprawled in his seat across the aisle next to the torn-away section of the fuselage. He was bloody and definitely dead. No one could be missing an arm that had been sheared off at the shoulder and survive. Bright red drenched his chest and lap—fresh and wet looking.
Dusti heard someone gag, only to realize she’d made the sound herself as bile rose.
Bat grabbed her face by cupping her cheeks. It jerked her horrified gaze away from the sight and forced her to stare at her sister instead. “Look at me and not that.”
Tears welled in Dusti’s eyes that she tried to blink away. She stared into her sister’s gaze, very much resembling her own since they looked so similar. “Oh God!”
“I know,” Bat crooned. “We survived though. We’re Dawsons. We’re tough, remember? Just take deep breaths. In and out. Remain calm.”
Dusti didn’t feel very tough at all. She was in shock, and she knew it. It was difficult to think, a surreal feeling fogging her mind. Too many awful things had happened in a short timeframe and everything seemed a nightmare at that moment. It helped to concentrate on her sister’s face. Bat caressed her gently with her thumbs.
“It’ll be fine. We both made it. We’re okay.” Her sister always knew how to keep her head—if not her tongue—in a bad situation.
“Sit down,” the spiked-haired man ordered harshly. “And I’ll spank you if you hit me with another shoe, you little hellion.”
Bat released Dusti’s cheek w