Dez, following where Mace pointed, turned to look behind her. While he had her temporarily distracted, he took his other hand, wrapped it around the back of Smitty’s neck, and slammed the man’s head into Dez’s desk.
When she snapped back around, Mace watched her innocently, Smitty gripped his forehead, and Dez’s partner began to hysterically laugh.
“What did you do?”
Mace blinked. “Nothing.”
Dez stretched her legs out on her couch and studied her painted toenails. That and waxing her brows were her only female indulgences. It was Christmastime, so her color of choice this week? A merry red. She smiled, wondering if Mace would like that color on her.
She shook her head. Mace Llewellyn. Back in her life after all these years. Persistent as ever too. Only now he was persistent about her as opposed to the Ring Dings. She wondered why. Why his sudden interest in her? They’d been friends throughout ninth grade. Very good friends. The move to Queens had been quite the ordeal, and when she’d finally gotten up the courage to see him…well, his sisters got to her first. They made it clear that with her Bronx accent and less-than-sparkling manners, she would never fit in with him or his family. In the end, she’d be nothing but an embarrassment for him.
Dez sighed and glanced at the television. Sirens from one of her favorite episode of Cops blared incessantly while a police dog took down a perp. The man kept moving, and the dog only bit down harder. If he stopped moving the dog would stop biting. Suddenly she knew how that perp felt. She kept moving and Mace kept biting down harder.
Damn. She kept doing that. Thinking about Mace Llewellyn. Why couldn’t she get the man out of her mind?
Because he reminded you what that hole between your legs is really for.
She shook her head. She didn’t have time for this or for him. Being a cop was her priority. Always had been. Always would be. Just ask her ex. And she wasn’t about to go through those conversations again. So Mace would have to back the hell off.
Yeah. Good luck with that.
A big, wet tongue slathered across her ear, and she turned her head just enough to get another lick right across her face.
“Yuck!” She pushed her dog’s giant paws off the couch, but for some reason that seemed to indicate he and his brother should join her on her large sectional. Suddenly she had a hundred-and-fifty-pound dog resting against her back, the other splayed across her lower legs.
“You two comfortable?” They both answered with a snort. When she’d gotten home, she’d put the two through their paces while she wore the bite sleeve. She loved working her dogs. It made a day of being a New York cop easier for some unknown reason. Maybe because she had an outlet for her stress and two amazingly well-trained and very protective dogs to show for it.
“So, what do you guys think? Mace Llewellyn—the man of my dreams? Or another schmuck looking for his chance at these beautifully painted toes?”
Her dogs whined. They’d barely tolerated her ex. They definitely wouldn’t make room for some new guy Dez always sensed wasn’t exactly a dog person.
“Don’t worry, guys. I remember the rules. Love me. Love my dogs.”
Dez leaned back against her furry Rottweiler-sized pillow and watched some stupid perp run from a man wearing a uniform holding a gun and yelling “Freeze.” Then they’re shocked when they tazer their butts.
Dez grabbed a bowl of chips. “Why do they always run?”
Mace should have known better. Drinking Uncle Willy’s moonshine continued to be a bad idea. Especially when you were horny and desperately wondering whether the woman of your dreams moaned or growled during sex.
“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t ya.”
Smitty sat down on the floor next to Mace. Poor drunk bastard. Of all the things Smitty could do, holding his liquor had never been one of them.
“I’m crazy about her.”
“She’s got big tits. What were those anyway? Triple Ds?”
“I’m sensing that knot on your forehead was not enough of a clue to keep your grubby dog paws off my woman.” And they were definitely triple Ds.
“Don’t get me wrong. She wears those big tits well. But they’re big. Huge!”
Christ, drunk Smitty was annoying. Wolves simply couldn’t hold their liquor.
Mace sighed. The evening started off nice enough. The two friends went to dinner. Discussed their new business plans. Flirted with the waitresses. Well, Smitty flirted. Mace watched and thought about Dez. Walked around Times Square. Started a fistfight. Ended a fistfight. Talked their way out of an arrest. Made their way down to Avenue A. Chatted with some very nice hookers. Talked their way out of an arrest by cops pretending to be nice hookers. Ate some pizza.
They could have kept going, but around two A.M., they found themselves back at Smitty’s hotel room with two bottles of ’shine and a minibar chock full of junk food. Really, the two of them didn’t need much else. An hour and a half later and Smitty was falling-down drunk while Mace found himself longing for a woman who kept staring at him like one of those nutcases she probably faced everyday on her job.
“Bobby Ray Smith, where are you?”
Mace nudged Smitty. “You are so busted.”
The hotel room door flew open and Sissy Mae Smith stormed into Mace’s room. He didn’t even know she had a key. “Dammit, Smitty!”
“What?”
Mace looked up at Sissy Mae, a very pretty girl version of Smitty. Mace learned to love the younger woman as his baby sister. He’d protect her exactly like Smitty would. There were very few people in his life he cared that much about. The fact that several of them were wolves still confused him to no end.
“You have got an entire city waitin’ to be explored and what the hell do I find you doin’? Sittin’ here drinkin’ with Mace!” She smiled at Mace. “Hey, Mace darlin’. How ya doin’?”
“Fine, Sissy. Thanks for asking.”
“How come you’re nice to him?”
“Cause he’s Mace and he already lives here. But you, you idiot…” Smitty drunkenly waved his baby sister away, and Sissy kicked a couch cushion at his head.
She glared at Mace. “Although I don’t appreciate the great lion dragging my big brother down to the very pits of hell.”
“Do you mean Long Island?”
“And what is going on with your hair?”
Mace ran his hand through the unruly locks on his head that had been sprouting all day. “Mane’s growing back in.”
“Weren’t you damn near bald when we saw you this afternoon?”
“It grows fast.” While on active duty, he had to shave his head every day to keep his C.O. off his back. But letting his mane grow back became his first step toward being a civilian again. Besides, he got the feeling Dez would like putting her hands in his hair. He knew he wanted her to put her hands in his hair. Preferably while he gently sucked her clit into his mouth.
Sissy Mae sniffed. “Lions are freaks.”
Mace saluted Sissy with his Mason jar of ’shine. “Thank you kindly, Sissy Mae.”
Smitty awkwardly pulled himself to his big wolf feet. “Would you like to live here, little sister?”
Sissy Mae turned her glare on her brother. “What are you talkin’ about now, you drunken idiot? And what in the hell happened to your forehead?”
Mace raised his hand. “That was my fault.”
“I’m talkin’ about movin’ the Pack here. At least…part of it.”
Sissy Mae scowled. “Why the hell would we…” Mace watched as she realized the implication of her brother’s words. The Smith Pack of Tennessee had too many Alpha Males among Smitty’s four brothers. One of the reasons he’d left the Pack and joined the Navy. Mace met Smitty when a high-ranking officer with jaguar blood decided to create a SEAL team made up of shifters only. It worked surprisingly well, and they did a lot of damage over eight years. When the team disbanded, Mace and Smitty decided they were ready to leave the military. Smitty got out six months before
Mace, and the infighting between him and the other Smith brothers got pretty ugly.
Mace knew he’d never go back to the Pride, so he made Smitty an offer. It seemed logical the two friends should start a business together. Smitty agreed. Yet he didn’t want to leave his baby sister. Although Mace didn’t think she’d ever let him.
“Bobby Ray Smith, are you saying we should leave Tennessee and move to New York City?”
“Yup. That’s what I’m sayin’, Sissy Mae Smith.”
Sissy threw herself into her brother’s arms. “Yes! I was hoping that’s what you were gonna say! I love this place! It’s so exciting!” She looked at Mace. “Are we going to be working with you?”
“You are not going to be working with Mace. I am going to be working with Mace. You’re going to find something nice and safe to do—like knittin’.”
Sissy Mae laughed. “Yeah, right. So, Mace, are we going to be working with you?”
Smitty stumbled away from his sister.
“Now listen up, little sister—”
Sissy Mae slapped her hand over her brother’s face and shoved him onto the couch. By the time he landed, he was snoring.
Mace watched two big feet stand in front of him. Wolf females always seemed to have the biggest freakin’ feet. She crouched in front of him and smirked. “What’s the matter, Mace?”
“What makes you think something’s wrong?”
“You haven’t been pompous or superior in the last ten minutes. So somethin’ must be wrong.”
Mace shrugged. “The woman of my dreams turned me down.”
“For marriage?”
“Dinner.”
Sissy Mae shook her head. “Is this the girl you’ve been talkin’ about since I met you?”
“Desiree MacDermot. The woman I’ve been waiting for all my life.”
“You know, my momma’s right about you. You are a wolf in lion’s clothin’. Get all bunged up over one woman. I can’t even get Smitty to do that and he is wolf.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“You want helpful, Mason?”
“Yes. I want helpful. Make yourself useful, woman.”
“Fine. Call her as soon as you wake up.”
“What?”
“Call her as soon as you wake up and ask her out.”
“Why?”
“Trust me on this.”
“I’m not a morning person.”
“Mace…”
“Okay. Okay.” He glanced over at Smitty, then back at the man’s sister. “Let’s write Omega on his forehead again. He hates that.”
Chapter Three
Dez 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 t
he 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?”