She laughed, shook her head. “You can’t be Alpha when everybody’s damn near terrified of you. Not respectfully scared, mind, but terrified. Besides . . . I just don’t care. I care about me and mine. Anything else is merely a reason to ‘Start the killin’.’ ”
“Does your father have any other sayings?”
“None I like as much.”
Ric laughed, kissed her cheek. It had taken a lot out of her not to loudly thank the Good Lord that Ric didn’t take that Alpha position. There was always so much bullshit to worry about when you ran a Pack and Dee liked being the one called in when there was trouble, but otherwise was left alone to do what she liked to do. It was a relief to find out that Ric definitely had the same philosophy because he could very well be Alpha of the Van Holtz Pack—if that was what he wanted. He was wicked smart, excessively charming, and wily. Damn wily. And, of course, ruthless when he had to be.
She really liked the ruthless side of him.
She looked down at the sweatshirt he’d put on her. “I think this is the first time you’ve ever insisted I put on clothes.”
“Don’t want you to catch the sniffles, my spun-glass princess.”
Grinning, Dee got to her knees and crawled into Ric’s lap.
“Dee-Ann, you’re not planning to take advantage of me out here . . . in the open?”
“Of course, I am. I’m a Smith. We’re tacky like that.”
“Not tacky . . . inventive.”
She kissed him, stroking her hands down his bare shoulders and chest. She really didn’t know if she’d ever get tired of the taste of him. Like one of his New York strip steaks with that peppercorn sauce he made, the man simply tasted good. What did those chefs always say? “Simple, fresh ingredients make the best meals”? Yeah, that was Ulrich Van Holtz. Simple, fresh, and the best meal a girl could have if she was lucky. And apparently Dee-Ann was damn lucky.
She reached for the waistband of Ric’s jeans. “Lord, please tell me that you remembered to bring condoms with you.”
“I actually didn’t remember, but when I told Uncle Van I was coming out here to find you, he forced a handful on me and said, ‘For the love of all that’s holy do this for me!’ ” Ric nipped at Dee’s neck, licked her collar bone. “I’m not sure what he meant, though.”
“I don’t care what he meant.” Dee gripped Ric’s shoulders and shoved him to the ground. “Although I appreciate his ability to plan for the inevitable.”
Dee got Ric’s jeans unzipped and he’d kicked off his sneakers. She lifted her weight off him enough for him to pull the worn denim and his boxer briefs down to his knees. When he’d done that, she dropped back on top of him and let him yank the sweatshirt over her head.
Big, talented hands stroked her flesh while Dee took his mouth with her own. She pressed her hips against him, her pussy becoming wet and desperate. The two of them writhing, groaning.
Ric suddenly pushed her up. “Get that condom on me, Dee-Ann. Now.”
She snatched the condom he’d pulled from the back pocket of his jeans and tore it open. She rolled it down his cock and gripped the solid piece of hot flesh. She lifted her hips and put him inside her, allowing her weight to drop down hard, his thick cock slamming into her. They both gasped, Dee’s body shaking, her nipples tingling.
Ric reached up to her, his hands stroking her face, her neck.
“I love you, Dee,” he told her. “Ever since the very first time I saw you, I’ve loved you.”
And that’s when she gripped his neck with her hand, fingers pressed against major arteries, her claws ready to unleash at any moment.
Yet Ric kept his gaze steady, never backing away from what she could do to him. “I love you,” he said again. And that’s when Dee leaned down, unleashed her fangs, and tore into Ulrich Van Holtz’s throat.
Ric barely stopped himself from coming the minute Dee’s fangs dug into his flesh.
Barely.
But he held on for her. Clutching her hips with his hands, he thrust his cock up inside her, taking what was his while she claimed what was hers.
When she unhinged her jaw and her fangs slid from his skin, Ric flipped her over onto her back and bit into a spot above her right breast. A scar-free space that he’d been eyeing to claim as his own ever since the first time he saw her in a low-cut tank top. She cried out, the sound bouncing off trees, nearby hunting wolf kin howling back at another Van Holtz male marking his female.
Ric lifted his head, Dee’s blood running down his chin, and continued to thrust hard inside her, until her body shuddered and seized around him, her pussy clamping down on his cock so hard he saw stars.
He kissed Dee-Ann, their blood, like their lives, mingling.
And when he finally came, knowing as only a wolf can know, that he’d found the female who was the perfect fit for him, who would be by his side from now until their lives on this physical plane ended, Ric didn’t think he could ever be happier.
They held each other, the world around them getting darker, but the moon all wolves loved shining down on them like it was blessing their union.
Then Dee, who rarely got “caught up in the moment” as some She-wolves were known to do, realized something.
“Oh, Lord,” she sighed, pushing Ric onto his back again and stroking his hair. “How in the world am I gonna tell my daddy?”
Ric kissed her throat before looking her in the eye. “We’ll tell him together.”
“Because you don’t think he’ll kill you right in front of me?”
“That’s a big part of it.”
“Jesus Christ!” Niles Van Holtz snarled, stumbling to a stop when he caught sight of them. “First off,” he snarled, pointing a damning finger. “Outside fucking isn’t done until after ten o’clock p.m. When all the Van Holtz pups have gone to bed.”
“Then you shouldn’t have given Ric the condoms,” Dee kindly explained.
“But I told him not to use them until after ten o’clock!”
“True,” Ric agreed, “but that would have ruined the mood.”
“Get in the house,” the older wolf ordered. “We’ve had something come up.”
Dee sat up and Ric’s cousin turned away from her. “What came up?”
“Can we talk about this inside while you’re wearing some clothes?”
“No.”
He let out a sigh. “Just got a call from Mace Llewellyn. It seems Missy isn’t our problem, but Matilda Llewellyn is. Their grandmother.”
“Sure he’s not just trying to protect his sister?”
“Yes. I’m sure. Now can we discuss this inside?”
“What’s there to discuss? I’ll head back to the city and kill the old bitch and—”
“No. You’re not handling this. I’m going to bring somebody else in for this job.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t Mace Llewellyn a friend of yours?” the older wolf demanded.
“We’re friendly.”
“You’re not handling this, Dee-Ann.”
“Still waitin’ for a why.”
“Because I said so,” Niles Van Holtz spit out between tightly gritted teeth.
“Look at you treatin’ me like family,” she teased.
“That’s it! Both of you get into the house, get washed up. You’re heading back to New York so you can handle something for me.”
“I’m killing somebody else?”
She watched the wolf take a deep breath, his cousin still buried deep inside her, Ric’s hands behind his head while he grinned up at her, Dee’s breasts still hanging out to God and everybody.
Honestly, she was having the best day.
Until Ric’s cousin looked at her and smiled in what was less than a friendly way. “In fact, Miss Smith, what you’ll be doing is extremely far from actual killing. But something tells me that it’s really going to hurt anyway.”
Nope. She didn’t like the gleam in the man’s eyes. But, to be honest, what concerned her more . . . if she or Malone weren’t doing this job—she
just assumed they’d never ask Desiree to take it on—then who was?
Darla sat on her porch and stitched the pillow she was making for her Dee-Ann. It was too humid a night to sit in the house until she was ready to go to bed and it kept her busy. She needed to be busy at the moment because something was going on. Eggie had gotten a call on that cell phone of his that he never used and then he’d walked out of the house and gone hunting. That was a couple of hours ago and he hadn’t been back.
So Darla stitched and she waited.
Finally, she saw her mate lope toward the house, half a deer carcass in his mouth. He’d eaten the other half, but he always made sure to bring a little something home for her. Of course, she had a freezer full of perfectly good cow, but the gesture still meant something after all these years.
Eggie dropped the deer at the base of the porch and came up the steps. He stopped, turned, shifted to human and, naked, sat down on the top step. Darla didn’t start asking him questions because she knew he’d get around to telling her when he was good and ready.
After a few minutes, he started talking. “Need to go to New York.”
“All right.”
He scratched his knee and Darla peeked through her lashes at her mate. He was no longer the young wolf who’d sat outside her window night after night, howling at her, being run off by her daddy, brothers, and cousins, only to come back and start the whole thing over again. Strange, Darla hadn’t thought she’d ever end up with a Smith male. They were more her sisters’ speed. Lots of drama and arguing and getting each other jealous. Darla didn’t have the patience for all that foolishness. She liked things calm and quiet. It never occurred to her at the time that a wolf who had become universally feared, not only by his own Pack but by nearly every other, would be her mate. Especially one nicknamed Eggie. But he’d been the one and still was. And, even better, he’d managed to keep that delicious physique she’d learned to love all those years ago. The body was older, had a lot more scars, but still . . . damn.
“Like you to come with me,” he grumbled.
That made Darla miss a stitch, something that over the years she’d taught herself not to do when Eggie and her baby girl were around and she never knew what they’d do or say next.
“Pardon?”
He shrugged. “I need you to come with me.”
“Whatever for?” Not once, in all the years they’d been together had Eggie Smith ever asked her to come out on a job with him. Not ever. And Darla never thought he would. Then why was he now?
“You need me to come with you? Why?” she pushed when he didn’t answer her first question.
“I need you to talk some sense into our dang daughter, that’s why.”
“About what?”
Eggie grumbled, cussed under his breath, grumbled some more, and finally snarled, “She’s just gone and fallen for the bullshit of some damn Van Holtz.”
“Oh.” Darla felt her heart leap, but she kept her face purposely blank. The thought that her daughter might have found herself a mate, that she wouldn’t end up old, alone, wandering these Tennessee hills with no pups to call her own had worried Darla something fierce. Wolves simply weren’t meant to be alone and Dee-Ann was more wolf than nearly anybody Darla knew except Eggie.
“Which one?” There were so many Van Holtzes.
“That supervisor of hers. Taking advantage is what I say. It’s inappropriate work place somethin’ or other.”
“I see.” Because their baby girl was such a frail, easily manipulated little female, of course. Darla picked up her stitching, already daydreaming about having little grandbabies she could stitch things for and holidays when they’d come to visit.
“A Van Holtz,” Eggie growled. “Heard she’s already living with him in some fancy penthouse. My little girl. And you know Bubba Ray’s gonna have a fit over this.”
“Probably.” Darla stitched a little more and added, “But I’m sure he thinks Dee-Ann’s just desperate to get herself a man now that Sissy Mae has one. Figures she’s settled on the first one who showed her any interest, so maybe he won’t take this all so badly.”
Eggie looked at her, annoyance pulling his heavy brows down practically to his nose. “That’s a load of bull. My baby girl don’t have to settle for nobody.”
“I know. But you know how Bubba can be.”
“He can damn well keep his mouth shut. At least my Sugar Bug has picked someone in the same damn species, even if it is a Van Holtz. And if a Van Holtz is what she wants, she’ll damn well get one.”
“I guess.” Darla put her stitching back into the wicker basket she kept by her rocking chair and headed into the house. “Guess I better go pack.” She’d only gotten to the stairs of their cozy home when she quickly returned to the back porch and yelled out, “Egbert Ray Smith! You get your butt back here right this second! You can deal with your brother later!”
CHAPTER 29
“Me,” Dee-Ann said again, looking as if she was on the verge of tears. “Going to a charity auction dance. I feel like an idiot!”
“You look like one, too,” Rory told her, shaking his head while he sat and watched her try on dress after dress. None of them fitting her right. Rory would admit, Dee-Ann was the only female in the world he’d take time out of his day to come to this high-end, shifter-friendly store to help find a damn dress for a damn dance. A dance she’d be attending with Ulrich Van Holtz of all people. He knew Dee liked the little runt, but he’d had no idea they’d gotten so . . . close. Then she’d gone off to Washington after the Fourth of July weekend and had come home marked, mated, and forced to go to dances.
It was like the world was off its axis!
“I think this dress is quite complimentary,” the sales girl told them and Rory could tell his friend was real close to beating that cute little fox to death for being such a big, fat liar.
“You can’t be serious,” he argued.
The sales girl glared at Rory. “I’m trying to help.”
“You’re trying to get a commission, but you’re not going to do it by making my friend look like an idiot.”
“Well, I don’t know what you want me to do about it,” the sales girl snapped. “I’m not a miracle worker!”
Rory shot off the couch and yanked the fox out of the way of Dee-Ann’s slashing claws and snapping fangs.
“Dee-Ann!”
“She started it!”
Rory sent the sales girl off and attempted to help Dee on his own. “Maybe we should get you something shorter. You do have decent legs.”
“Thanks, Rory. That means a lot.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“Try harder!”
Rory heard a delicate throat clear and he looked over at a dark-haired Latina beauty that he was ready to give up everything he had or would ever have just for one night with her.
“Well, hello, darlin’.” He started to walk over to her, but Dee caught him by the hair and yanked him back. “Damn it, Dee-Ann!”
“Do not piss me off, Rory Lee Reed. And do not leave me to go on a pussy hunt.”
“If you’re interested,” the beauty answered, seemingly unaware of their tusslin’, “I can make a suggestion.”
“Are you actually trying to help me,” Dee asked, “or just torture me like the rest of them?”
“Don’t know you well enough to want to torture you.” She smiled at Rory. “I usually save that for my friends.”
“So, darlin’,” Rory began, “are you new in town?”
“Rory Reed!” Dee snapped.
“Sorry, sorry.” It was a hard habit to break. Beautiful woman with long legs and a curvy body and Rory was a lost wolf.
“I’m desperate,” Dee admitted to the female Rory now realized was a full-human. Surprising. There was something so predatory about her he’d just assumed she was feline.
“Don’t panic.” The beauty walked up behind Dee and studied her in the mirror. “It’s your shoulders. They’re huge.”
“Be
cause I need more bitchy comments about my body.”
“Just an observation. You’ve gotta work with what you’ve got.” She went to one of the racks and pulled out a sleeveless floor-length blue thing and handed it to Dee. “Try this on.”
Dee looked at the price tag, her eyes wide. “Have you lost your damn mind?”
“Look, hillbilly,” the woman snapped, “it costs money to make someone clearly raised in a holler look good. Now get your skinny ass in that room and try the damn thing on before I get testy.”
Dee stormed away from them and the beauty faced Rory. He grinned. “How you doin’, darlin’?”
“I come to Manhattan and yet the hillbillies still manage to find me,” she announced to the air.
God, she was so mean. He loved mean.
“And get that look out of your eye, redneck. I’m taken.”
Man, but was she taken. The scent of the cat who’d claimed her covered her from freshly done hair to freshly painted toes. It was like the feline had rubbed himself all over her before he’d let her out the door.
“You don’t think I’m afraid of a little ol’ cat, do ya?” Rory asked.
She smiled and Rory felt his nuts tighten. “Actually, sport,” she leaned in and finished on a whisper, “you should probably be more afraid of me.”
She winked and stepped away from him. Rory was ready to fight the cat to the death for this woman when his best friend of the last thirty-five years walked out of the dressing room. Stunned, he stepped back.
“God, Dee-Ann.”
“That bad?”
He shook his head but the beauty answered, “No. I think it’s that good. See what a few extra dollars will buy you?” She nodded, clearly appreciating her own skill. “You look much less frightening. My God, I’m good.” She looked Dee over, but stopped at her head. “You’ll have to do something about that mop on your head, though.” Dee snarled and the woman laughed at her. “Don’t bare your fangs at me, hillbilly.” She took a card out of her tiny handbag. “Here. Call this salon, tell them Angelina sent you. They’ll take care of you.”