The Mane Event
“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.
Chapter Four
She found it interesting how she kept having to remind herself to keep breathing. But Dez had to. She kept forgetting. Every time she looked up from her food and found Mace staring at her, she’d simply forget to breathe. She kept trying to find some flaw on him. Something wrong with his features or his hair or his teeth. Anything to make him less godlike and more human.
Yet she found everything about him perfect. From that voice that kept dropping impossibly lower every time they touched on the topic of sex to the way his gold eyes glinted in the dimly lit restaurant to the way his muscles bunched under his seen-better-days, black, long-sleeve T-shirt.
If she really intended to keep her Puerto Rican ass out of his bed, she should have never gone to dinner with the man. Because he still knew how to get to her. Still knew how to make her smile and pant. Still knew how to make her hot.
And she wanted his dick in her mouth so bad she thought she might start crying.
Is it actually wrong to toss a woman onto a restaurant table and fuck her senseless? Probably.
Mace sighed and continued to stare at the lovely Detective First Grade Desiree MacDermot. Dez who always made him smile. Always made him hard. Always made him crazy.
Still made him crazy. With those gray eyes, those amazing breasts,…and that voice. That fucking voice still made him sweat.
He found her so distracting he completely overlooked the fact he’d spent the last three hours in the company of wolves. Owned and operated by the Van Holtz Pack, the Van Holtz restaurant chain had the best prime rib Mace had ever tasted. In retrospect, he was glad Smitty joined them. Smitty had actually been able to keep the wolves at bay and away from him. They clearly didn’t like having Mace in their space, although all the Van Holtz restaurants were supposed to be neutral territory. Mace guessed that only applied to other Packs and not Pride.
It amazed him what he would willingly put up with for this frustrating and beautiful woman.
“What I’m not quite clear on, Dez, is how you didn’t actually notice your husband moved out.”
“Ex-husband. And I had a lot going on at the time. It was my first big case. A lot was riding on it. It just took me a while to realize he’d left.”
“What’s a while?”
She held the coffee cup between her hands and stared at it. “Three weeks.”
Mace leaned forward and waited until she looked him in the eye. “You noticed after three weeks or he told you after three weeks?”
When she didn’t answer but went back to staring at her coffee cup, he couldn’t help himself. He laughed. Loud.
She glanced around as the entire attention of the restaurant turned toward them.
“Christ, would you keep it down? I’m not exactly proud of this.”
“Sounds to me like he was boring and selfish and you should be glad the asshole is gone. I know I am.”
She smirked and a blush spread across her cheeks. He liked that he could make a tough city cop blush.
She glanced up, clearly ready to change the subject. “Where did the redneck go?”
“I don’t know. He does keep disappearing, doesn’t he?” And that’s why he’s family.
“We should probably check the ladies’ room.”
Mace grinned. “Probably. Smitty’s always had an easy time with women.”
“Oh, and I’m sure you have a real struggle with women, Mace. I bet they ignore you and treat you like you don’t even exist.”
He smirked at her. “Only one does that.”
She put down her coffee and ran her hands through her hair. She’d been doing that more and more as the night wore on. “I know you exist, Mace. Trust me. I know. But you forget, I was in the military. I know exactly what you scumbags get up to. Sorry if I’m not blindly diving into the deep end of that pool.”
“So, you think I just want—”
“To screw the one girl you didn’t? Yeah. That’s what I think.”
“Then you don’t think much of me.”
“I didn’t say that. But you are a guy, Mace. A Llewellyn, true. But still a guy.”
“Which means what?”
“Well, I did read that testosterone causes brain damage.”
Mace snorted out a laugh as Smitty, reeking of some wolf female, sat back down at the table.
“What did I miss?”
“Dez was telling me how all men are mentally handicapped.”
?
??I didn’t say that,” she corrected with a condescending smile. “I merely said that you all have”—she made air quotes with her hands—“‘special needs.’ The reality is you guys really can’t think past that thing between your legs.”
“Damn, girl.” Smitty wasn’t used to women not immediately bowled over by his charm. “That is mighty harsh, darlin’. Lumping us in with any-ol’-body.”
“Really?” Dez picked her coffee back up.
“Yes. Really. Mace is a good guy. One of the best. And I am a caring, sensitive male that has many, many layers. Don’t let this tough, manly exterior fool you. There’s so much about me you’ll never understand.”
Dez swallowed a mouthful of coffee. “You have a hickey on your neck.”
Dez grinned at the two men as a waiter placed a piece of cake between them. He laid out forks for each. Smiled at Smitty. Leered at Dez. And practically spit at Mace. Man, the staff at this restaurant really didn’t like him.
Smitty winked at her. “You’re right, ya know. We’re all scum.”
Mace shook his head. “Thanks for the help there, bud.”
“What can I say? She caught me in my lie.”
“You admit nothing. Deny everything. Demand proof. Did you learn nothing in Boot Camp?”
Dez did like Smitty. She liked him a lot. But the man sure wasn’t Mace. Darker in appearance. An inch or two shorter. Not as wide. She found herself surprisingly comfortable around him. Mace, however…well, she didn’t actually feel comfortable around him. Not with her body tingling at the mere thought of him. She kept noticing things about him. Little things. Like the way he unconsciously scratched the scar on his neck or the way he kept pushing his blond-brown hair out of his eyes. Her eyes narrowed. Wasn’t he bald just yesterday? No. That wasn’t possible.
“Don’t blame me, hoss, because she knows we’re all brain damaged.”
Dez looked down at the chocolate cake garnished with dark chocolate and wondered how she kept getting involved with such idiots.
Mace watched as Dez took her forefinger and swiped up some of the drizzle of dark chocolate sauce that decorated the plate as garnish.
She slipped her chocolate-covered finger into her mouth and sucked it clean.
Mace growled. He couldn’t help it. If it were a practiced move, meant to tantalize, he wouldn’t have even noticed. But Dez did it because she clearly liked dark chocolate and was slightly tacky.
She frowned and smiled at the same time. “Did you…growl at me?”
“Sorry. Couldn’t be helped.”
“No reason to apologize. I’ve just never had a man growl at me before.”
“You just weren’t listening,” both Mace and Smitty said at the same time.
Dez shook her head as she and Mace picked up their forks. “You two are such boneheads.”
Smitty watched Dez for a second, then leaned forward. “Do you mind if I ask you a question, darlin’?”
“Only if you stop calling me darlin’.”
“Now where I come from that’s a term of endearment.”
“Really? Well, where I come from motherfucker is a term of endearment. Want me to start calling you that?”
Mace almost spit his cake out, but now he knew Smitty was pissed.
“All right then, Dez. Mind if I ask you a question?”
“Ask away,” she happily offered as she ate a bite of cake.
“You’ve never had great sex, have you?”
Swallowing her cake and damn near choking on it, “That ain’t no question, Smith.”
Well, hello Bronx accent. Welcome back!
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Uh-oh. Smitty being sarcastic—not good. “I can phrase that in the form of a question if ya like. Have you ever had great sex?”
Dez leaned back in her chair, her arms crossing in front of her. She leveled that gray-green gaze in Mace’s direction. “You’re not going to help me out here, are you?”
“I could help you out, but I don’t think that’s what you mean.”
“I’m still waitin’,” Smitty pushed. Mace didn’t know what his friend was up to, but he couldn’t wait to find out, and to see if Dez punched him. The girl he used to know had a mean right hook; he could only imagine what this woman had in her arsenal.
“Well…I…uh…”
“Well-I-uh what?”
“Hey! I’m thinkin’!”
“If you have to think about it, darlin’, you haven’t had great sex.”
“What exactly is the point of this conversation?”
“Simply pointing out a fact.” With that, Smitty got up and disappeared again.
Now it seemed to be Dez’s turn to growl. “Okay, now I’m starting to hate him.”
Mace grinned. He was so okay with that.
Dez’s face burned. She could probably fry an egg on it. How had this evening gone so terribly wrong so goddamn quickly? She’d lost control. Again! She never lost control. Whether during an interrogation or a perp walk or a tactical maneuver, Dez MacDermot never lost control. But with Mace staring at her and his country bumpkin friend twisting her words around, she felt like she dangled off a building without a bungee cord.
She’d already regressed to her old nervous habit of running her damn hands through her hair, saying the word ain’t in a sentence where she wasn’t mocking someone, and getting that damn accent back. Maybe Missy Llewellyn was right. She would always be that Bronx girl, no matter what she did.
“Dez. Look at me.”
“No.” Absolutely, unequivocally, kill-herself-first no.
“Desiree. Look at me.”
Clenching her hands into tight fists, Dez raised her head and froze, trapped in that gold gaze. Trapped there as if the man had put shackles on her wrists and sat on her. Dez had no idea how long they were staring at each other. She felt Mace sliding through her body. Touching everywhere. Making himself quite at home. She couldn’t look away and she didn’t want to.
He didn’t say anything to her. He really didn’t have to. He said it all in those beautiful eyes of his. He wanted her. Would do anything necessary to get her. And, if she let him, he’d give her more than great sex. He’d give her never-able-to-walk-straight-again sex. The kind where she’d lose her soul.
Finally, Mace motioned for the check, but his eyes never left her face. “Come home with me, Dez.”
On a sigh, “Okay.” Dez blinked. Helllloooo! Idiot alert! Have you lost your mind? “Uh…I mean…” Dez pinched her leg to snap herself out of it. “I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t do one-night stands.”
“I don’t want a one-night stand. I want us to—”
“I don’t do relationships either,” she burst out suddenly, completely cutting the man off.
Calmly, “Why?”
“Because I’m a cop. Always was. Always will be.”
“Not quite sure why that affects us.”
“It does.” She’d already been through this. Learned the hard way. Never again. “I’ve actually got somewhere to be.” Thank God.
“At eleven-fifteen at night?”
“It is the city that never sleeps.”
The check came, and she figured she needed to grab this chance to bail.
“I’d like to help with the tip.” She tossed two twenties on the table. “Thanks so much for dinner, Mace.” She stood up and walked around to his side of the table. She leaned over and kissed the top of his shaggy head. “I had a really nice time.”
“You could continue to have a nice time.”
Relentless bastard. She ruffled his hair like she used to when they were fourteen. “I’m outta here.” She hadn’t taken a step when Mace grabbed her hand. His fingers, warm and dry, interlaced with hers. In that one move the man went through her entire body. And that’s when she realized they were no longer fourteen. They were no longer just pals. Dez suddenly saw them naked, sweaty, and fucking like there was no tomorrow. She knew Mace saw it too. Those gold eyes screamed at her,
and she knew hers were screaming right back.
Nope. She needed to go. Now.
She took in a shaky breath. “Mace, I have to go.” Oh hell. She needed to stop whispering.
“Don’t. Stay, Dez. Stay with me.” And she knew he didn’t mean at the restaurant having more coffee and another piece of cake. He meant in his bed. With him inside her. And he’d make her scream. Again and again.
“I can’t.” She pulled her hand away. He let it go but not before dragging his big fingers across her palm. Who knew a simple move like that could rock her right down to her toes? And rock her it did.
Jesus Christ. What a man that boy had grown into.
Dez looked into those gold eyes. She knew a few more moments of him and she’d end up doing something really tacky. Like crawling under the table and giving Mace Llewellyn a blow job. She shook her head and backed away from him. This kept spiraling out of control. “I have to go, Mace.”
He smiled. “Okay.” She raised an eyebrow at that calm response but decided to let it go. Especially when she so clearly saw him slamming her facedown on the restaurant table and fucking her into oblivion. Yeah. In that moment she realized she’d overstayed her welcome.
“Have a great Christmas, Mace.”
Then she practically ran out the door, heading to the club a few blocks away.
Mace had to wait a good five minutes before he could hope to comfortably stand and not embarrass himself.
That woman…that woman was everything he’d ever wanted. He’d known it all those years ago. Tonight only confirmed it for him. The kiss and that simple touch practically blew his boots off. And she felt it too. He could see it on her face. He could smell it. Her desire rolled off her in waves and practically knocked him from the room.
No, he wasn’t letting Dez MacDermot get away. He’d take her down like his ancestors took down full-grown zebra.
Smitty finally returned to the table as Mace signed the credit card receipt. He smiled at his friend. “Well? Where did you go?”
“Well, nothin’. That girl’s got a temper. I wasn’t about to stay around for that.”
“You were pushing her.”