Читать книгу The Mane Event - Shelly Laurenston - Страница 10
Chapter Three
ОглавлениеDez woke up cursing. The ring of her damn cell phone completely disrupted her lovely dream involving Mace, her, and her handcuffs.
She grabbed for the phone on her nightstand. Knocked it off. Reached down and grabbed for it. Fell out of bed. Hit one of the dogs in the process. Wrestled the phone from the dog’s mouth. Then groggily crawled on all fours back into her warm and cozy bed.
“MacDermot,” Dez mumbled into the phone, assuming it would be work.
“Hey.”
Dez’s arms went out from under her when that voice tore through her dazed, sleep-drowned mind, and she landed flat on her face. Mace and that voice of his slid all the way down to her clit and moved in.
Why the hell was he calling her? What the hell was his deal? And how the hell did he get her number anyway? All right. Forget that last stupid question. He probably had a full background check done on her by now. The man was a SEAL, after all.
Not knowing what else to say, Dez hit him with the first thing that came to mind. “Who is this?”
She crossed her eyes. Well those brilliant phrases kept rolling right from her mouth. You’re such an idiot, MacDermot.
“It’s Mace.”
“Oh,” she replied casually like she didn’t almost come from his “hey” alone. “Hiya, Mace.” She used her shoulder to cover the mouthpiece on her phone, shoved a pillow over her face, and yelled into it. After a moment, she calmly went back to the conversation. “What’s up?”
She heard him stretch. “Nothing. Just checking on you.”
She closed her eyes and her legs. Took a calming breath. “Oh. That’s sweet.”
“I’m known for being sweet.”
“No, you’re not.”
He laughed softly and she bit her lip to keep from moaning.
Really…is there anything better than the gravelly six A.M. voice on a man? Dez didn’t think so. And Mace had one of those in spades. She may have to dig out her vibrator. It has to be around here somewhere.
“You’re right. I’m not.” A moment of silence descended, and Dez wondered if they had already run out of things to say. She should have known better. “You just getting up?”
“Not really. It’s only six A.M. and I don’t have to go to work. So, I’m just lying here.”
“Really?” She heard his body move, the sheets rustle. She imagined him naked and in bed. She closed her eyes. Okay. She needed to stop doing that right now. “What are you wearing?”
Oh no! They were not going to have this conversation. She couldn’t handle it. Hell, she couldn’t handle him. “Christ, Mace, we haven’t had one of these conversations in a long time.”
“Yeah, but at fourteen they were relatively tame. We’re much older now.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“What are you wearing?”
“I’m not discussing that with—”
“Are you naked?”
“No!” Dez rolled her eyes. Good God, the man could be persistent. “A tank top and baggy shorts.”
“Panties?”
With a throat clear, “No.”
He purred. At least that’s exactly what it sounded like. Purring. She didn’t remember him purring before.
“Did you…did you just purr?”
“Yup. I’m thinking about you with no underwear.”
“Jesus, Mace. You’re killing me.”
“Is it making you wet?”
“Mason Llewellyn! We are not having this conversation.”
“Why?”
“Well, I am hoping to eventually arrest your sister for murder.”
“I’m hoping you arrest my sister for murder.”
“Oh.”
“You’re running out of excuses.”
“I am not.”
“Your nipples hard?”
“Mace!”
“Give me something. I’m dyin’ here.” Every once in a while, Mace suddenly reminded her he was born and raised in New York when a little bit of an accent reared its ugly head. It usually only happened when he got emotional or, if she remembered her school days correctly, horny…
She ground her teeth together. She would not have phone sex with a guy she hadn’t seen in more than twenty years. Even she wasn’t that desperate. “What do you want from me, Mace?”
There went that damn purr again. Deep. Low from his gut. Primal. “Everything.”
Dez closed her eyes. Good answer. But also the wrong one. She didn’t have everything to give. She was a cop. Born a cop if you happened to ask her dad. The one thing in her life that made her truly happy. The one thing she did really well. She couldn’t give that up for Mace. She couldn’t give that up for anybody.
“You got quiet all of a sudden. What’s wrong?”
Dez sighed. “I’m thinking about the price I pay to be me.” Mace chuckled. “What’s so funny, Llewellyn?”
“You. You haven’t changed one damn bit.”
“Are you kidding? I am not the person you used to know.”
“No. You’re the person I always knew you were.”
Dez pulled herself up to a sitting position. “Is that right? And what deep insight do you have about me right now?”
“That’s easy. You’re thinking you’re not about to give up being a cop for me or any man. Aren’t you?”
Dez placed the phone on the comforter and scowled at it. She had the almost overwhelming desire to run from the room screaming. She forgot Mace used to do this to her all the time. That he saw what no one else saw. What no one else wanted to see. Sometimes her own family included.
“Pick up the phone, Dez.”
She shook her head. It’s not a picture phone, you idiot!
“I can hear you breathing. So pick up the phone—now.”
Dez grabbed the phone and put it to her ear. “How did you…when did you…?”
“Come out to dinner with me, Dez.”
“No way!” She would not be dating Rasputin anytime soon.
“You either come out here for a nice, normal dinner or I come there…and who knows what I’ll tell you about yourself.”
Would that be before or after her dogs rip his arms off? Or she fucks him on the porch. You know…whatever.
“This is—”
“Blackmail. Yes. I know. I’m a rich, white male not afraid to use the power of his position.” She rolled her eyes, imagining Mace’s smile as he spouted that load of crap. “So come out with me anyway. Just dinner. I promise.”
“Mace—”
“Come out with me, Dez.” His voice actually got lower. How? “Come out with me tonight. Please?”
The “please” caught her off guard. She didn’t remember Mace ever asking for anything except the salt or ketchup. And then only out of politeness. Now he wasn’t being polite. The man practically begged. She thought about that for a moment. She had someone like Mace Llewellyn begging her to go out with him? Had hell frozen over? Were pigs flying?
She let out a shaky breath and she knew he heard it. Closing her eyes, she wondered how huge this mistake would turn out to be.
“Okay. I’ll go out with you.”
“Good.”
“But just dinner. Don’t go gettin’ any wacky, adolescent ideas.”
“Who? Me?”
“When and where?”
“Eight o’clock. You pick the place. Any place you want.”
“Any place? You know, I have very expensive tastes when other people are buying.”
“Any place.”
“Okay. Well, I heard there’s a Van Holtz Steakhouse that opened up in the Village.” Another long, rather deafening pause. “Is there a problem there, Mace? A little out of your price range, perhaps?”
“Smart-ass, and no. That’s not an issue.”
“You’re not a vegetarian or something, are you?”
Mace’s almost-hysterical laughter at her offhanded remark seemed a little excessive, but she chose to ignore it. “Well then?”
He cleared his throat. “Okay. Fine. You want Van Holtz? We’ll go to Van Holtz.”
“Jesus, Mace. I’m not asking you to choose a political party here.”
“Might as well be.”
“What?”
“Nothing. So eight, in the Village, front of Van Holtz restaurant. That work for you?”
“Perfect. I’ve gotta do some shopping anyway. So, I’ll see you then. ’Kay?”
“Yeah…so…are your nipples hard or not?”
“Bye, Mace.”
She closed the phone. This is such a mistake.
Dez flinched when her phone rang again. She flipped it open. “I’m not telling you if my nipples are hard.”
“That’s good. Cause I really don’t wanna know,” stated a female voice Dez didn’t recognize.
“Who the hell is this?”
“Is this Detective MacDermot?”
“Who’s askin’?” She shook her head. The reappearance of Bronx-Dez. She thought she’d buried her…
“Look, I got some information. On Alexander Petrov.” Dez sat up a little straighter. True, her removal from this case made this a slightly inappropriate conversation, but why scare off a potential lead with that unnecessary bit of information?
“Okay.”
“Can you meet me?”
“Where?”
“The Chapel. At eleven-thirty.”
The Chapel. A hot Village club she could never hope of getting into without her badge. “Isn’t there another place we can—”
The woman cut her off. “I’ll be there. You won’t have a problem getting in.”
“You work there?”
Dez received a long pause. For a moment, she thought the woman hung up. “My family owns it.”
Dez bit the inside of her mouth to prevent herself from saying something stupid. An effective technique she’d learned years ago. “So, you’re a Brutale?”
“Yeah. Gina. Gina Brutale. Meet me there at eleven-thirty. Tell the guy at the door you’re there to see me. Give him your name but don’t say detective…and try not to look like a cop.” Brutale hung up.
Dez closed her phone and glanced at the clock on her nightstand by her .45. This would work nicely. Dinner with Mace at eight o’clock. Having to handle work at eleven-thirty kept her from doing something monumentally stupid. Like going back to Mace’s hotel room or giving him a blow job in the restaurant bathroom. You know, whatever…
Mace turned over in the king-size bed and buried his face into the pillow. That woman’s voice would be the death of him. Knowing she sounded like that when she woke up turned his cock into a lead pipe. He couldn’t wait to experience that for himself. Waking up with Dez growling next to him. He would experience it, too. He’d waited too long for this. For her. She simply had no idea what she did to him. She never did.
Mace went back to sleep and dreamed about him and Dez.
And Dez’s handcuffs…
Dez stood next to her partner as they waited for the M.E.
“Don’t forget, MacDermot. You’re not here.”
“Nope. Right now I’m out singing carols.”
“Let’s not push it.”
John Michaels, one of the city’s best M.E.s, pushed open the double doors. “Good. You’re both here.” He motioned to them, and they followed him inside. Alexander Petrov’s naked body lay out on a metal table.
“I want to show you two something. Here.” He pointed to the man’s throat, and both Dez and Bukowski leaned over and examined the area.
“What is that?”
“Claw marks.”
Dez frowned. “From a dog?”
“Awfully big claws for a dog, in my opinion. Plus something’s not quite right.”
“What do you mean?”
He motioned to her, and Dez went and stood in front of him.
“If an animal clawed his throat, we would have found three to four swipe marks here.” He tapped one side of Dez’s neck. “Or here.” He tapped the other. “Or both.”
“Okay.”
“But what I found on this vic is very different.”
“Like what?”
“There’s a bruise across his throat. Four claw marks on the left side of his neck and one on the right. Which would imply this…” He wrapped long fingers around her throat. Four on one side. His thumb on the other. “Now pull away from me, Detective.” Dez did, and Michaels’s gloved fingers painlessly slashed across her flesh.
The two stared at each other. “Holy shit.”
Bukowski stood next to them. “I don’t get it. What am I missing?”
Dez looked at her partner. “How many animals you know got thumbs?”
Dez and Bukowski stood on the street corner while she pulled gloves onto her hands. As soon as Bukowski pulled out one of his rare cigarettes, she knew he was freaking out. “What’s with you?”
“Doesn’t this whole thing freak you out in the least?”
“Nah.” Dez shook her head. “A real puzzle to solve. I live for this stuff. Besides, it’s probably some wacko wearing a clawed glove or something.”
Bukowski smiled. “You’re a weird one, MacDermot.”
“So my sisters keep reminding me.”
“Where you going now?”
Dez pulled her notepad out from her back pocket and checked her list. “Shopping for the family…that’ll be fun. Gotta order those goddamn pies too. Dinner with Mace. And meeting with Gina Brutale.”
“Gina Brutale? Why are you meeting with her?”
“She says she has information on Petrov.”
“Dez, you’re not supposed to be meeting with informants. You weren’t supposed to be here.”
“She called me directly. If you show up instead, we won’t find out a goddamn thing. Don’t worry, if I get anything really juicy, I’ll make sure to let you know. Okay?”
“Be careful. Those Brutales are not a nice bunch of people.”
“I know. I know. You don’t have to tell me twice.”
“And don’t think for a second you slipped that bullshit about Llewellyn past me. What do you mean you’re having dinner with him?”
Damn. She really thought she’d gotten away with that.
“He called me this morning and asked me out. Again.”
“And you said yes? Are you high?”
“Not in years. And I don’t see the problem. Mace Llewellyn is an old friend of mine. We’re just having dinner. Nothing else.”
“I saw the way he looked at you yesterday, Dez. That man has more on his mind than just dinner.”
“I’m not discussing this anymore. I gotta meet the guys for coffee.”
“Ask them, then. They’ll tell you. Llewellyn wants one thing from you.”
“Bye.” She walked off, but she could still hear Bukowski yelling at her.
“I’m calling you tomorrow. And you better answer the fuckin’ phone or I’m coming over!”
Why did every man insist on becoming her big brother? She had two sisters. More than enough siblings. So she didn’t want a brother.
Funny, she had the distinct feeling no matter what Mace felt for her, it definitely wasn’t brotherly.
Mace leaned back on his hotel room couch, his arms over his head, his legs stretched out in front of him. His T-shirt and long shorts stuck to his sweat-drenched body. He thought he’d be able to run Dez from his system, at least for a few hours, in the hotel’s gym. But every second that passed brought him closer to seeing her again. The thought made his mouth water.
He thought his obsession for her rocked off the charts before. He’d been wrong. That had simply been the idea of her, without any knowledge of how she actually turned out. He could fantasize all he wanted to, but his subconscious knew she could be a far different person. Lazy. Mean. Nasty. She could be anything. Instead, she blossomed. Who knew being a cop would actually make someone happy?
That scared little girl who used to hide behind her books? Well, the strong, confident woman of Mace’s dreams had replaced her. He hadn’t been lying to her earlier. He always knew that woman quietly lived inside Dez. He always hoped he’d be the man to bring it out in her. But based on what he found out about her from Watts, she found confidence under the relentless tutelage of a Marine Corp drill sergeant.
Dez still seemed wary of him, though. Not surprising really. According to Watts, her divorce turned kind of bloody. Her ex was a prosecutor who eventually became a defense attorney. The marriage lasted as long as her stint in the Marines but apparently wasn’t nearly as satisfying for either of them. Since then she hadn’t dated much, and nothing serious had come along.
Until now.
Mace flew beyond being serious about this woman. His feelings for her lived in another universe altogether.
The woman’s very soul called out to him. He kept imagining what that body would feel like under him. What that voice would sound like in his ear when she was coming. Would she rip the skin off his back or just leave bruises? Did she bite? Or maybe she liked to be bit. Did her pussy taste sweet? Or a little salty? And did she mind being worn as a hat?
Mace groaned and glanced over at the hotel clock on the nearby end table. He still had hours before he’d see her again.
Smitty took his Pack out for a long lunch in Midtown. Mace glanced over at the bathroom. Nope. His cock was too hard to even think he could make it to the shower.
He reached into his sweatpants, pulling his cock free. He ran his hand along its hard length, immediately imagining Dez. Now she wasn’t some hazy fantasy that he concocted. He knew exactly what adult Dez looked like, which only made him harder. Mace accessed one of his standard Dez fantasies, the one where he kissed her for hours. Not exactly Penthouse worthy, but it still ruled as one of his favorites. She had such gorgeous lips, he could spend his life kissing that mouth. In fact, he had every intention of doing exactly that.
Mace closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the couch. He started off slowly, stroking himself. Enjoying the feeling of his own hand. And he could almost feel her. Dez’s lips on his throat, his jaw, his mouth. His grip tightened and he couldn’t stifle a groan. His tongue inside her mouth, her hands sliding across his chest. His breath sped up as his strokes became stronger, faster.
One meeting with her and Dez had become a part of him. She infected his blood. He could smell her scent. Almost feel her skin. That voice, though. That goddamn voice pushed him over the edge. It always had. His orgasm slammed into him and he growled Dez’s name as his come spurted all over his hand.
Mace relaxed back on the cushions. That woman is going to be the death of me.
Dez walked up to the table outside the café. Not surprisingly, they weren’t alone. Four gorgeous women surrounded them. Vinny caught her eye. The spark of desperation in those pretty blue peeps sent her a clear message. “Help me. These women are boring me to death.”
Well, she couldn’t leave her buddies hanging. Besides, it would be fun.
She walked up to the group, flashed her badge. “I’m sorry, ladies. But I’m here to arrest these men for their homosexual prostitution ring.”
The group stared at her. She crossed her arms, which caused her jacket to move back, revealing the gun holstered at her side. “Start moving those asses, ladies. Or I start shooting.”
It took them less than a minute to evacuate their seats. Dez threw herself into the one next to Jimmy Cavanaugh and put her feet on Vinny’s lap. “Well, that was fun.”
Vinny slapped Dez’s boot-covered feet. “Why are we always gay in these scenarios you create?”
She grinned. “Because it makes you idiots uncomfortable. I live for that.”
Dez ordered herself a large black coffee and an éclair from the waiter. Once he walked away, she glanced at the three men sitting with her. Three of her closest friends since her tour in Japan. They became friends because they were all products of the “Burroughs.” Vinny Pentolli represented Queens, Jimmy Cavanaugh Brooklyn, and Salvatore Ping-Wei stood in for Manhattan. She represented the Bronx.
They were the toughest MPs she’d ever known. They took no crap but were fair. And she had become one of the most feared dog handlers because she had “Baby.” No one messed with Baby. No one came near Baby. No one looked Baby in the eye. No one but her. Dez had earned their respect by expertly taking care of four drunken sailors her third night on duty. Not hard when Baby had one of their throats in her maw.
The four of them served together for over a year until reassignment to different bases. Dez stayed in the Marines for only another two years after that. Then she came back to the city of her birth and became what she always wanted to be. A New York City cop. Five years ago, she walked into one of her favorite Irish bars and right into the middle of a bar fight. She and her partner at the time broke up the fight even though they were both off duty. When the proverbial smoke cleared she came face to face with her past.
Kind of like the day before when she saw Mace again. Only she just wanted to have a beer with the guys and catch up with old times. With Mace, she didn’t want to do anything but sit on his face.
“You look awfully nice today.”
Of all the people she would expect to notice the cleavage she decided to show in anticipation of her dinner later that night with Mace, Sal was the last of them. It always seemed like he didn’t pay attention to much, like he existed in his own world. Yet, every few months or so, he surprised her by revealing that nothing really got past him.
“You’re right,” Vinny agreed. “She has on her good black jeans and her low-cut slut top.” She glared at Vinny and took her feet off his lap.
“Showing some healthy tit action,” Jimmy unnecessarily added.
“I am not!”
The three men laughed while Dez’s face turned red.
“So what’s the deal, MacDermot? I know you didn’t dress up like this for us. You hate this season, so you’re not feeling merry. And you’re off duty since your unfortunate run-in with the rich and the powerful.”
Dez waited until the waiter left her coffee and pastry and walked away. “Well…I have a date tonight.”
The way they gaped at her was what she found so insulting. “I’m not lying.”
“No. But are you delusional?”
“Blow me!”
“Whoa!” All three men reared back, and she inwardly groaned at the return of the foul-mouthed Bronx girl she had been. Damn Mace!
Vinny held his hands up, palms out. “Calm down, woman. You know we’re kidding.”
“No, you’re not. And you’re paying for my éclair.”
Jimmy stared at her and Dez knew why he didn’t spend a lot of time alone. She did really have the most gorgeous male friends. Although they were a little…different. Sal lived in his own world. Vinny brought being an egotistical prick to a brand-new high or low depending on your perspective. And Jimmy always seemed angry. She never saw him smile with anyone but the three of them. He probably came out of his mother’s womb with that scowl permanently plastered to his gorgeous face. Sometimes she wondered if smiling might actually be painful for him.
“So who is he?”
“He’s actually an old friend of mine. Just got back into town.” She sipped her coffee, then said while staring into the coffee mug, “He’s Navy.”
Dez ducked the balled-up napkins thrown at her.
“Have you no shame?” Jimmy sighed.
“Oh, shut up.”
The men took chunks of her éclair. “So who is this Navy guy?”
Dez swallowed at Jimmy’s question. “Uh…Mason Llewellyn.”
The silence that followed…kind of painful. Finally, Dez couldn’t take it anymore. “What?”
Vinny barely smothered a laugh. “You expect us to believe you’re dating a Llewellyn?”
“I’m not dating a Llewellyn. We went to school together. I told you about him.”
“You went to school with a Llewellyn?”
“Well,” Jimmy cut in, “I went to school with a Rockefeller. Of the Brooklyn Rockefellers.”
Dez gazed down at her empty plate. They’d completely demolished her éclair. She inwardly sighed. Of course they didn’t believe her. Why would anyone think Dez MacDermot would know, much less date, a Llewellyn? Especially one as tasty as Mace?
“She did tell us about him. They went to the Cathedral School together. He was her first big crush. A cute little guy who couldn’t control his hair.” The three of them gaped at Sal. “What?”
Dez pushed the empty plate away. “I’m always surprised when I realize you were actually listening to me.”
“I listen. I just don’t say anything unless necessary.” He shrugged. “It felt necessary.”
Jimmy leaned back, and Dez winced as the chair creaked loudly. All that muscle on one man often seemed kind of inhuman. Not a lot of chairs held him easily. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you going out with a Llewellyn.”
Startled, Dez looked at her friend. He’s not comfortable?
“I agree with you, Jim. I’m not sure you should go through with this.” Now Dez turned her eyes on Vinny.
“Have you both lost your minds?”
“I mean, who is this guy?”
“And when exactly was the last time you saw him?”
“You know, I’d expect this crap from Bukowski, but not from you guys.”
“Bukowski’s uncomfortable with this too, huh?”
“This conversation”—Dez rapped her knuckles against the Formica table—“is over.”
“Be careful, Dez,” Jimmy stated earnestly.
“And don’t sleep with him the first night,” Vinny warned. “We know what a slut you can be.”
Dez turned to Sal. “Do you have anything to add to this bullshit?”
“Yeah.” Sal looked down from the ceiling he’d been staring at. “Based on the structure of this building, if we removed that pillar back there, we could take out this whole block.”
Dez sighed.
Mace sat down next to Smitty and glared at the man. “Could you explain to me again why we’re here?”
“Because my sister wanted to come to Macy’s. See all the pretty Christmas displays. Some people actually like this holiday, Mace.”
“I understand why we’re at Macy’s. I don’t understand why we’re in the lingerie department of Macy’s.” It sure as hell wasn’t helping his present situation. He kept imagining Dez in all the different panties and bras on the sales floor. It simply wouldn’t make dinner an easy event if he walked in sporting a hard-on.
“You think I’m comfortable?” Smitty shook his head. “I’d rather be driving bamboo shoots through my fingernails than thinkin’ about my sister in any of this…stuff,” he growled. “And she better be gettin’ somethin’ flannel.”
“Yeah, right.” Smitty always wanted to believe his baby sister remained some kind of untouched virgin. At twenty-nine and seriously cute, Mace doubted that.
“I’ll have you know wolf women are very into flannel.”
“Not the wolf women I’ve known.”
Surprised, Smitty turned to Mace, who smiled and shrugged. Smitty really thought he knew everything about him, didn’t he? Foolish puppy.
“What can I say? I’m a male. They were three healthy females. It was the Philippines. Do the math.”
“And after all that you think you can settle down with one woman? A human, no less?”
“Of course I can.” Mace grinned. “Cause she’s Dez.”
“I met her, Mace. She’s a nice girl and all, but I don’t get it.”
“Good. Keep it that way.”
Smitty chuckled. “Man, hoss, you got it bad.”
“I know.” He stood up. “You better tell your sister to get a move on. I’ve got to head downtown soon. I am not going to be late for this.”
Mace wandered away to check out all the lingerie. He wondered how long before he and Dez would be at the “It’s okay to buy me lingerie” stage of their relationship. He hoped it would be tomorrow. Although even he had to admit that might be pushing it a little.
Or maybe dinner would prove she had changed after all. So much he’d rather stick his hand in an open flame instead of spending one more second with her. It would definitely make things easier since she insisted on being damn difficult about all this. Yet he wasn’t holding out hope for that scenario either.
Mace had just passed a line of demi-cup bras that actually made his mouth water when he saw her. Looking beautiful and sexy—and desperate. She was talking to some short guy with no neck. Actually, no-neck was doing all the talking. Dez seemed trapped. She nodded as if she were really listening, but her eyes seemed to search for anyone who could rescue her. Eventually their eyes locked, and Mace could practically hear her screaming for help. He realized how much of their time together she did remember, when she made a move he hadn’t seen in more than twenty years.
Dez ran her hands through her beautiful auburn hair, brought her fingertips over her ears, lingering on the right one as she gave it a gentle and subtle tug.
It had been their sign. The move they made when Amber Kollerici backed you into a corner to discuss the fun world of knitting or when Dominic Bannon had you backed into a corner threatening to pound your face in. Their secret sign for “Get me the fuck outta here!”
With a smile he didn’t try to hide, he held up the bra and panty set he’d been eyeing and pointed at it. He raised an eyebrow. Immediately she caught on. If I help you, you wear this…
She scratched her forehead with one finger. The middle one. He laughed and went off to save his damsel in distress.
Wasn’t holiday shopping for your family bad enough without having to add running into the ex-husband? Especially when he stopped to buy lingerie for his fiancée. Then she did that thing again. That thing her post-breakup therapist told her never to do when she met up with her ex to go over property splits or paperwork.
Ask him how he was doing.
Because Matt would tell her. He’d tell her in detail. And it was always bad. The man made über-money, lived in the poshest part of Manhattan with his hot, slut fiancée. Yet he always found a reason to complain about something—if not everything.
Already he’d been talking for a good twenty minutes about how everyone at his firm hated him. Of course they hated him. Matt made being an asshole into an art form. But, of course, that couldn’t possibly be the reason. They didn’t understand him. His brilliance had them all jealous, or they envied the fact he could buy a new car every other year. It definitely wasn’t because he was an asshole.
For the billionth time since she realized her marriage had been a huge mistake, Dez kicked herself. What the hell had she been thinking anyway? That he might actually like her? That he wanted to be with her to raise a family? That he’d be okay with her being on The Job? She shuddered, thinking about those many arguments over her late nights and overtime schedule.
Well, that’s what she got for trying to prove her sisters wrong. She wanted to show them she could get a man. That she could be happy.
Idiot.
Well, she had no one to blame but herself. All that aside, she still needed to get away. She just never knew how to politely get herself out of these conversations. At her very core, she still felt a little guilty over their breakup. So telling him to fuck off and storming away never seemed like an option.
Dez glanced around. She’d been shopping for her sisters and their brats when she found herself wandering around the lingerie department and thinking about Mace. She never worried about underwear too much, but she did have on her special, dark red lace panties with matching bra. Although she had no intention of letting Mace see her in them, she still couldn’t bring herself to whip out the Hanes Her Way for this particular occasion.
Now, pricing all the great stuff they had available, she found herself thinking all sorts of dirty and morally appalling things she could do to Mace and that he could do to her. The nuns had been right. She was no better than Mary Magdalene.
“And you know the only reason he’s trying to prove I’m using the firm’s money for inappropriate purchases is because he’s jealous of me.”
Dez barely stifled a yawn when she suddenly felt someone’s eyes on her. The intensity of it almost overwhelmed her. It licked across her spine, the back of her neck. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. Far from it. She looked around, finally catching sight of Mace. One look into those gold eyes and her entire body clenched. She almost squirmed.
Why he was in the lingerie section she had no idea, but she would always be eternally grateful.
She screamed at him in her head. “Get that fine ass over here and save me!” Although that seemed kind of useless. She remembered the hand signals they came up with should they find themselves in such a situation. They went from, “Hey, when you got a minute, could you stop by” to “Get me the fuck outta here!”
Dez really hoped she was using the correct one now. She’d lose her mind if she instead utilized the never-before accessed “We’re going to the closet to make out. Come get me in twenty minutes.”
Instead of rushing to her side, Mace held up a panty and lingerie set she would never try to pour her body into. Had the man lost his mind? Why the hell would he show her that? Then he wiggled his eyebrows at her.
Christ! Men truly were disgusting. She rubbed her forehead with her middle finger, which made him laugh.
He came toward her, but Mace never simply walked. No. He stalked. Like she were prey. This time was no different. As he moved toward her, she noticed he stared at her face. Then, as he got closer, his eyes moved onto her mouth.
Holy shit, he wanted to kiss her and seemed hell-bent on doing just that.
She swallowed. Hard. She didn’t know what to do. Clearly the man was taking advantage of her current dire situation. And, clearly, she wanted him to.
God, did she want him to.
The whole time, her ex kept talking. But she’d stopped listening. She couldn’t hear anything over her poor heart trying to burst out of her body.
Suddenly Mace was there. In front of her. Her ex’s voice droned on for another thirty seconds or so, then stopped, since he was no longer the center of her attention. He’d always hated that. Hence the divorce.
Mace’s arm slipped around her waist and he pulled her flush against his body. His head lowered toward hers, and for the first time she noticed Mace had a healthy head of hair. She frowned. She could have sworn only yesterday the man had been nearly bald.
His lips were inches away from hers.
“Don’t you dare, Mace Llewellyn,” she whispered in desperation. When did her life start spiraling out of control? She always had control. Or, at the very least, the illusion of it. But Mace, he wouldn’t let her have even that. Not if he could help it.
“I’m just helpin’ out, baby,” he whispered back. Then his lips were on hers, and suddenly Macy’s giant department store, three days before Christmas, completely cleared out and she and Mace were the only people left in the entire building.
That’s how it felt anyway. She couldn’t think beyond his lips taking hers. His tongue licked across her bottom lip and, like the weak-willed female she was, her mouth opened just enough for him to stake a claim. His tongue slid in and instinctually her tongue met his. She tasted spicy cinnamon and Mace. Both tasted wonderful. No one had ever kissed her like this before. Like they were taking ownership.
Her arms slid around his neck, his free hand finding its way into her hair. He gripped the back of her head and held her steady for his onslaught. Not letting her back away—like she even considered it an option. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not at the moment anyway. It had been a long time since she’d been this close to a man. Any man. But to have a physical god like Mace Llewellyn kissing her like he’d been waiting years to do this…well, a girl should never rush through that. And she didn’t. She took her time exploring Mace’s mouth and tongue.
Tonight would be brutal. Thank God she had something to do after their dinner or she’d be getting herself into all sorts of trouble. With just a kiss, Mace practically made her forget…well, everything. Everything but him.
Throat clearing. He kept hearing someone clearing their throat. Who the fuck would dare try to get his attention when he had the most divine tongue in his mouth?
He gripped Dez tighter, and she tangled her fingers in his hair. Damn, but the woman could kiss. She tasted so good, too. When he’d walked over to rescue her from the no-neck guy, he had no intention of kissing her. But the closer he got the more he found himself staring at those lips. Those perfectly shaped, full lips. Suddenly he forgot all about no-neck and could think only about Dez. Sweet, adorable, damn confusing Dez.
That throat clearing again. Well, that would start getting on his damn nerves. Regretfully, he pulled away from her, looking down into her beautiful face. He could smell her lust for him. He would bet Dez was as wet as he was hard. Maybe they could just go to the Ritz and have dinner after some serious fucking? Nah. Dez was too nice a girl for that.
Dammit.
“Excuse me?”
Mace glowered at the strange voice speaking to him. Without looking away from Dez, “Who is that?”
“That’s my ex…Matt…uh…somebody…”
Mace beamed in absolute delight. She’d forgotten the man’s name. The name that once belonged to her. Good job, Llewellyn.
Growling low, Mace turned just his head to glare at Dez’s ex. The man physically blanched and probably didn’t even realize he backed up several steps. Mace really wanted to shift right then and there. Rip the man’s throat out and bring his lifeless corpse back to Dez as a kind of pre-wedding gift. Although right in the middle of Macy’s…that might be a bit tacky. Even for him.
“Go. Away.”
Whatever expression Mace had on his face, he didn’t have to repeat himself. No-neck stumbled back a couple more steps, turned, and quickly walked away with a “See ya, Dez” tossed over his shoulder. Mace watched until he couldn’t see him anymore, then he turned back to Dez. He still had her undivided attention. Good.
His hand slid around to cup her cheek, using his thumb to trace the line of her mouth. “That was better than I’d ever imagined. Like ten thousand times better.”
Dez swallowed. “Good to know.”
They gazed at each other, and Mace wondered if she’d be amenable to a quickie in one of the changing rooms. Just to take the edge off. Nah. She was too nice for that. Dammit.
“Mace Llewellyn! What the hell are you doin’? Let that little girl go.”
Mace ignored Sissy Mae, but Dez apparently remembered they weren’t alone. That they were actually in the middle of a major department store, making out in the lingerie section. Her hands suddenly released the grip she had on his hair and began to push on his chest as she pulled away from him.
He growled. Really, how attached could Smitty be to his sister? Would he really notice if Mace killed her?
Had she lost her fucking mind? What the hell was she doing? Why hadn’t she decked him? Kicked him in the nuts? Set his hair on fire? Something! Other than kissing the presumptuous bastard back.
Her sisters were right. She had no friggin’ sense.
“Are you okay, darlin’?” Dez looked into the face of a woman who had to be Smitty’s sister. She looked exactly like him, only a smaller, girl version.
Dez took a deep breath as she took another step away from Mace. “Yeah. Yeah. Sure, I’m fine.”
The woman took hold of her wrist with a vicelike grip. “Well, why don’t you and I stop by the little girl’s room. Give you a little time to compose yourself.”
Mace suddenly tore his eyes away from Dez’s face to glare at her rescuer. “She looks fine to me.”
“That’s cause you’re a boy and you wouldn’t know any better.” She walked off, yanking Dez behind her.
Christ! What a strong female. Strong as an ox.
The two women wandered around until they discovered a bathroom, while the woman introduced herself in one long rush as “Sissy Mae Smith. Smitty’s baby sister. Everybody just calls me Sissy. Or Sissy Mae. Some call me Mae. But I really don’t like that. So you can call me Sissy. Or Sissy Mae,” while dragging Dez into the bathroom with her.
Thankfully empty, Dez gripped a corner of one of the bathroom sinks and took in a couple of deep, calming breaths.
“That Mace sure does have a way, don’t he?”
“You could say that.” Dez splashed some cold water on her face. As she dried off with a paper towel, “You know, I’ve been up against guys covered in the blood of their coworkers. I’ve faced off against stone-cold contract killers who thought they had nothin’ to lose. I’ve even gone toe to toe with a sixteen-foot python that had recently finished digesting its owner and I could tell he wanted me as the tasty dessert. And yet, none of that freaked me out as much as Mace Llewellyn does.”
Sissy chuckled as she put on a dab of lip gloss. “Yeah, I know. That’s our Mace.”
Dez turned and leaned her butt against the sink, her arms crossed in front of her. She opened her mouth to speak but realized she had nothing to say. Or maybe she had way too much to say.
Sissy continued to touch up her makeup, but Dez could feel the woman watching her. She hated that. If there was something to say, then freakin’ say it.
“What?” The woman caught her making out in the lingerie department; normal pleasantries one has with a stranger didn’t seem to apply anymore. “Why do you keep staring at me?”
“Can I ask you a question?” Sissy’s accent flowed as thick as molasses. And she spoke as fast as Smitty talked slow. If the two didn’t look so similar, Dez would have never guessed they grew up in the same house.
“Why not?”
Sissy put her makeup away in her small leather purse and turned to face Dez. “You and Mace—”
“Whoa, Gidget. There is no me and Mace.”
“My name’s Sissy Mae. Or Sissy. Or—”
“What I’m trying to say is that there is Mace period. And Dez period. There is no combining of the two. We are two separate sentences.”
“Not to be rude, but you may be screaming ‘no way’ now, but out there you were screaming ‘dear God, yes!’ So I wanna make sure you ain’t about to hurt my boy.”
Dez turned to face her. “Me? Hurt Mace? What are you, high?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Look, Sally Mae—”
“It’s Sissy Mae.”
“Whatever. All I’m saying is, I couldn’t hurt Mace. I don’t think there’s anybody who can.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. You are his one weakness. Maybe his only one.”
Dez stared at Sissy Mae. Her mouth open. The woman must be sniffing glue. She didn’t think Mace had any weaknesses, but if he did, she couldn’t be one of them.
“Honey, I don’t know what load of crap he’s told you, but I’m guessing Mace’s only interest in me right now is that he didn’t fuck me before.”
“Well excuse me, darlin’, for being a bit direct and crass here—but that’s a huge load of bullshit.”
Dez blinked in surprise. Like that, Sissy Mae went from charming, soft-spoken Southerner to a bitch on tractor wheels. “Look, Sissy—”
Sissy cut her off. “That boy has been drivin’ me crazy with stories about your ass since I’ve known him. And I’ve known him for more than ten years now. Let me just say that, no offense, but I am tired of hearing about you. Trust me, if Mace only wanted to fuck ya, you’d have had your ankles around your ears by now. He’s looking for more than that. So get ready for the ride, darlin’.”
With that, Sissy stomped out of the bathroom, only to glide back in ten seconds later, her demeanor completely back to old Southern charm. “Well, come on, darlin’. The boys are waitin’.”
Sissy Mae gave a charming smile, and Dez felt that need again. The need to find out where all the exits were.
“What exactly is your sister doing in there?”
“Telling Dez she should run for her life?”
Mace was in no mood. He checked his watch. If they left now they would end up at the restaurant a little early, but he had to get Dez away from these two. He admitted to himself the Smiths had truly become family. Because only family could embarrass and worry him this much.
Sissy Mae dragged Dez back toward them. “Mace Llewellyn. You be sweet to this darlin’ little gal. I just love her!” Dez pulled away from Sissy and attached herself to Mace’s side.
He leaned down and asked against her ear, “You okay?”
“Just keep me away from your hillbilly friends,” she murmured back.
Mace kissed the top of her head and focused back on the siblings.
“The ballet? What the hell am I going to do at the ballet,” Smitty barked.
“I didn’t invite you, Bobby Ray Smith. It’s only for me and the girls. So piss off.” With that, Sissy Mae Smith walked off, or sauntered depending on your perspective, tossing over her shoulder, “Bye, Dez. It was nice meetin’ ya.”
“Uh…you too, Sissy Mae.”
Smitty’s big shoulders slumped in defeat. “Now I have nothin’ to do.”
With a wild look of relief, Dez clutched Smitty’s arm. “You could come with us. To dinner.”
Oh no, she didn’t. “No, he can’t.”
Dez glared at him. “Yes. He can.”
Mace glared back. “No. He can’t.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is. I’ve got my SUV, I can drive us all down there.”
“Smitty’s got a date.”
“No, I don’t.”
Mace took a menacing step toward Smitty, but Dez stepped between them. “You’ve got two choices, Llewellyn. Either Smitty comes with us or you go alone.”
Smitty shrugged and in that slow drawl Mace suddenly detested, “Now, y’all. I don’t wanna be puttin’ anybody out.”
Mace pinned Smitty with a look. “I hate you.”
“Back off, Mace.” Dez turned and rubbed Smitty’s arm. “You’re coming with us, Smitty.”
“Well, if you insist.” He smiled at Mace, and Mace’s entire body tightened with the need to beat Smitty within an inch of his life. “Where y’all plannin’ to go, anyway?”
“Van Holtz Steakhouse.”
Smitty started laughing and couldn’t seem to stop. Yeah. He’d never hear the end of this one. Mace Llewellyn willingly heading into Pack territory for one reason and one reason only.
Dez stepped away from the two men. “Is there a problem with this place I don’t know about? I mean, do they piss in the food or something?”
“No. No.” Smitty cleared his throat. “They are a fine, fine establishment. And if you like your steak bloody, you’ll love it there. It’s almost like they hunted it up that very mornin’.”
“Okay.” Although Dez appeared seriously wary. “Um…let me buy a couple more gift certificates and then we can go.”
Mace watched her move off toward a cash register. Once out of his line of sight, he grabbed Smitty by the neck, lifted the man’s entire body up off the ground with a roar, and then went down on one knee, slamming Smitty against the floor. The crowd of people milling around dashed away from the two men like they were on fire. No one was brave enough to step between them.
Mace released Smitty’s throat and stood. “Just so we’re clear,” Mace sneered, barely able to control himself.
Smitty gave him a thumbs-up while trying to get his breath back. “We’re clear,” he wheezed out. Then Mace followed after Dez.
