The Mane Event (19 page)

Dez shivered in anticipation of the promises that statement held as Mace carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. And if she wasn’t so sexually overwhelmed at the moment, she’d kick herself in the ass. He was making her fall for him. She was, too. She was falling hard and fast.
And when you fall that hard and fast
, she thought desperately to herself,
you usually break something
.

I
t couldn’t have been past eleven o’clock in the morning when he heard it. The most horrible sound. The kind of sound that drove men to kill, to destroy all they love, to destroy everything.

With a growl he stood up, went to the window, and threw it open. The carolers at the front of the house glanced up at him. They looked quite festive in their Santa hats and green and red sweaters, singing happily about Rudolph and his goddamn red nose.

Mace glared at the group and roared. A full-on, lion-protecting-his-Pride roar. The kind of roar that would travel up to five miles and let any other shifters know this territory belonged to him now.

The carolers stopped, screamed, and ran. He slammed the window down and turned back around. Dez kneeled naked on the bed, watching him with beautiful wide-awake eyes.

“What is wrong with you?”

“They woke me up. I hate that.”

“Mace, I gotta live here. And weren’t they from the church?”

“I thought I saw a priest.”

Dez buried her head in her hands. She wondered if it were really hot in hell or just a little humid.

“Don’t worry, Dez. They’ll convince themselves it didn’t happen.”

Her head snapped up. “Look, Mace. I know you’re a freak, but do you think you could be a little less freaky?”

Mace calmly walked toward her. All naked and glorious. Dez’s body responded immediately at the sight of him—her breath leaving her in a soft whoosh, her nipples tightening, and the evidence of her lust pouring from between her thighs.

“You like me freaky.”

She watched as he moved toward her with the grace of the animal he truly was, and Dez felt awe. Not only for what he could do, but for what he did to her. How he made her feel.

He stood at the foot of the bed. “Come here, Dez.”

She shook her head. “No.”

“You scared of me?”

She shook her head again. “No.” Her eyes traveled up his body until their eyes locked. “I just think you should work for it.”

She spun on her knees and dived off the bed. She never touched the floor, though. Mace had her by the ankle and clearly had no intention of letting her go.

“Mace Llewellyn, let me go!” She tried to pull her foot away, but Mace wasn’t having it. He dragged her back as he kneeled on one end of the mattress.

“Would you look at that ass.” He slowly pulled her back toward him. “That ass belongs to me, ya know.”

“It does not!”

“I guess it always has. Belonged to me, that is.”

“Mace, lemme go!”

“No. I’m not even remotely done with
my
ass. Not even close.”

He pulled her onto his lap, ass up. Mace gazed down at her butt. Such a delightful, perfect ass.
His
ass. He leaned down and kissed the right cheek. Then he unleashed his fangs and bit her.

Dez squealed. Mace didn’t even know her voice could go that high. She unleashed a stream of curses, some he never even heard of
—spunk bubble
?—reached back, and punched his thigh.

“Did you just bite me,” she demanded.

Mace licked the blood away. “Uh-huh.”

“Did you break skin?”

“Uh-huh.”

She moaned as his tongue cleaned off her wound, her hands gripping the comforter. “Why?”

Mace kissed her ass just before he flipped her over. He shrugged. The woman asked the oddest questions. “Cause you’re mine.”

“You irritating, motherfucking cat!” Dez tried to scramble away again, but Mace didn’t let her move an inch from him. Instead, he pulled up one leg, draping it over his shoulder, and wrapped the other around his waist. He yanked her tight against him, the length of his cock pressing against her hot pussy, while he ran his tongue over her ankle.

“By the way, Dez.” She looked up at him in confusion and lust. “Love the toenails.”

He didn’t hear her fall out of bed until she hit the floor. Mace opened his eyes and found one of her damn dogs staring at him. Tongue hanging out with the foulest breath known to man or beast. Apparently, the dogs feared him less. As the afternoon wore on, they kept moving closer and closer to him. Testing to see how far they could go before he tried to eat one as an appetizer. Now one had his front paws on the bed and that foul wet nose almost touching his. He really didn’t like how this particular relationship kept moving along. He’d hoped they would have run away by now.

He heard the cell phone ring and realized why Dez left their warm bed. He could hear her scramble for it. “MacDermot. Oh yeah. Hi. Hold on, hon.”

She crawled back into bed beside him, her naked body rubbing against his as she handed him his phone. Would anything ever feel as good as that? “Your phone. Thought it was mine.”

“It’s not Missy again, is it?”

Dez chuckled. “Nope.”

He took the phone from her. “Did you fall out of bed?”

“Shut up.” She turned over and put her arm around one of her stupid dogs. That one actually lay on the bed. And his woman
spooned
it. She shouldn’t be spooning the dog. She should be spooning him.

“What?” he barked into the phone.

“Hey, hoss.”

“Hey, Smitty. How’s it going?”

“Fine. Are we still on for tonight?”

“Hold on.” Mace pushed Dez’s shoulder.

“What?” She didn’t turn around, but instead stroked that stupid dog’s neck.

“Smitty wants to know if you wanna hang out with them tonight.”

“Them?”

“Yeah. Him, Sissy Mae, and their Pack.”

“Sure.”

He watched her stroke that stupid dog’s belly. Honestly, what next? Forget it. He didn’t even want to go there.

“All right. We’re in,” he said into the phone.

“Great. Meet us at the hotel. We’ll go from there.”

“When?”

“Eight o’clock. We’ll get dinner first.”

“You got it.”

Mace closed the phone and glanced over at Dez. Immediately his cock became hard. Damn, but the things the woman did to him. She must have catnip in her veins. He planned to turn on his side and put his arms around her, but when he tried to move his legs a one-hundred-and-fifty pound pile of raw dog meat happily sat on his feet. He didn’t even realize the big bastard had gotten on the bed.

“Woman, there’s a dog on my feet.”

“It’s his bed.”

“Is this our lives from now on? I’m going to have to put up with these fucking dogs in bed with us?”

Dez turned over. She smelled of panic. “Our lives?”

“Yeah.
Our
lives. I thought I made this clear to you last night.”

“Are you always like this?”

“Yes.”

“Cause that’s going to get on my nerves.”

“Too bad.”

She ran her hands through her hair. “You know, I always hated cats. Hence the dogs.”

“Ah yes. You definitely want something around your house that licks its ass, chases its tail, and follows your every command until a car drives by.”

She raised herself up on her elbows, her anger making her smell fucking amazing. “Dogs are loyal. They’re intuitive. They drag people out of burning buildings. With cats you just hope they don’t kill you in your sleep.”

Mace had to be the most relentless man she’d ever known. He wanted her and apparently had no intention of giving up until he got what he wanted. What exactly should she do with a 230-pound shapeshifter anyway?

Sauer yelped as Mace unceremoniously kicked his furry butt off the bed. Then Mace was on her, kissing her, snatching the breath from her lungs. Damn, but she loved the feel of the man’s body against hers. All that velvety flesh over hard muscle. One big hard muscle pressing against her inside thigh.

Now see. How exactly was she supposed to panic about their “relationship” when that demon tongue of his so gently stroked the inside of her mouth? And those big hands of his were on her breasts, tugging and rolling her nipples?

Tricky bastard. He was trying to keep her off track. Confuse her. The bastard
wanted
her to love him.
Dammit
. Why couldn’t she get a nice, normal psychotic with mother issues, like every other woman in New York?

Mace flipped her over. She buried her face in her pillow and gripped the irreparably damaged headboard between her hands. He grabbed a condom, then thrust inside her, taking ownership—again.

Well he could forget anything about her loving him. She was completely okay with the desperate lust holding her captive. That was perfectly normal. But love? No way. That wasn’t happening. And the fact she squeezed the damaged wood headboard so tight she had splinters in her fingers? That meant nothing. Or the fact that she gasped like a long-distance runner on her last mile—it didn’t mean a damn thing either. At least not to her.

And when she came and screamed his name into her pillow? Nope. That didn’t mean shit either.

Aw hell.

M
ace pulled the thick, black cable sweater over his head and tugged it down his body. He shook the water out of his mane and put on his new watch.

Dez’s arms looped around his waist from behind. She pressed her T-shirt–covered body into his and kissed him on the back.

He took hold of her hands. “How are your fingers?” It took him forty-five minutes to get the splinters out, and she whined the entire time. He offered to cut her fingers off entirely rather than using the tweezers, but she resisted that idea.

“Fine now. Was the shower okay?”

“Too small.”

“Well, blame your genetics on that one.”

“You still should have joined me.”

“I couldn’t. I had to feed the boys.”

Mace glanced over. They sat staring at him. Their dog tongues hanging out. Since Dez couldn’t see him, he flashed his fangs. One of the dogs started to whine.

“Whatever you are doing—stop it.” She released him. “Hey, do me a favor.”

He turned around and saw that she’d grabbed two leashes off the dresser. “Walk ’em for me, babe.” She handed him the leashes and walked out of the room.

Mace stared at the leashes in his hand. Had the woman lost her mind? Had the world gone mad? There was no
way
he was walking these…these…

Mace looked over at the dumb beasts waiting patiently for him. “Dogs.”

“You’ll need these too.” She came back in the room, and shoved a couple of plastic grocery bags in his hand. “Thanks, babe.” She walked away.

Mace stared down at the bags in his hand.

Oh, there is no way!

No. No. No! She just asked for too much.
Demanded
too much. She wanted him to walk her dogs and to pick up their shit. Him. Mason Rothschild Llewellyn. Breeding Male of the Llewellyn Pride. Former Navy SEAL. And a lion.

Missy was right. He needed a nice Pride to take care of him. A bunch of females who made sure he ate, fucked him, and bought him stuff to keep him happy. What he didn’t need was a thirty-six-year-old cop with two dogs she insisted on referring to as her “boys.”

He followed Dez to the bathroom. She stood at the sink brushing her teeth with an electric toothbrush when the alternative radio station she had on suddenly busted out with No Doubt’s “
Oi to the World!
,” in honor of the Christmas holidays. That’s when Dez began to shake her ass and bop her head from side to side. The T-shirt she wore barely covered that adorable butt of hers.

Mace closed his eyes.
Keep thinking accommodating Pride females. Keep thinking foot rubs and being the first to eat.

He opened his eyes, and Dez bent over to spit out the toothpaste. She wore no panties. Of course, she hadn’t had any on since the night before.

Mace, really having trouble breathing, turned around and went back to the bedroom. He looked at the two dogs still waiting for him.

“Well, come on. Let’s get this nightmare over with.”

Dez came out of the bathroom as soon as she heard the front door close. She checked both floors, every room.

Holy shit. He’s actually taken my dogs for a walk
. She’d only been joking. She never thought in a million years Mace would actually
walk her dogs.
She thought he’d follow her into the bathroom, throw the baggies at her, and then fuck her on the bathroom sink.

Dez stood in the middle of her hallway. Either Mace truly loved her or she just experienced one of the signs of the apocalypse the nuns always talked about.

“What have I gotten myself into?” she asked no one in particular. The sad thing was…she really expected an answer.

Mace turned over on the bed, letting his arms hang over the sides. A wet snout sniffed his hand. He gave a short roar and the nose scrambled farther under the bed with his canine buddy.

When had this relationship taken such an odd turn? He always controlled every relationship, and the women he’d been involved with had never minded. But, except for the bedroom, Dez never gave him a goddamn inch. She always knew what he was up to and called him on it every time.

He wasn’t at all sure about the dog thing either. Irritating little bastards. Dez had made it clear, though. Love her, love her dogs. He actually picked up dog shit for her.

He pushed his mane of blond-brown hair out of his eyes. Within twenty-four hours, his hair returned to its standard length. It took him all of puberty to grow the first round, but once there it didn’t like to go.

Mace sighed and looked at the clock next to Dez’s bed. Where the hell was she? A shower shouldn’t take this long.

He hated waiting. It was the lion in him. He didn’t wait to eat. He didn’t wait to go out. He didn’t wait for anything if he didn’t have to. True, he could leave without her. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not with him having the best time he’d ever had with a woman. Cranky bitch that she was, he liked her as much as he loved her. So, for once and without any direct orders from a C.O., Mace would wait. He would wait for Dez. Christ, what was his life coming to anyway?

A tongue swiped at the fingers he had resting on the carpet. Great. Playful dogs. They’d started liking him. In typical dog fashion they found a way to make this work. Even if they forced him to like both of them.

He growled and the dogs yipped back. He almost smiled. Grudgingly.

“Are you being mean to my dogs again?”

Mace looked up, about to tell her he had just been considering what pieces of her dogs would taste good with barbeque sauce, when he pretty much stopped breathing completely.

He barely noticed the black jeans she had on or the black leather boots. No, it was that black leather bustier that had his full attention. Clearly created specifically for her, because no way could something off the rack from a fetish store have done those magnificent tits as much justice as the bustier she now wore. Tight and form fitting, it tied up the front, showing a healthy amount of cleavage that simply called to him. The bustier fit over a black leather top with long leather sleeves that molded to her strong arms and scooped nicely off her shoulders. Her tits practically defied gravity in that outfit. She didn’t need a bra, and he could make out her tight nipples through the leather. The light brown skin she showed looked satiny and soft. For some reason he found her outfit almost as hot as when she stretched out in front of him completely naked, and at the moment she barely revealed anything. He wanted to rub himself up against her until he was purring and she was coming.

She’d even put on a little makeup for the occasion and brushed her hair until it fucking gleamed. No one had a right to be this pretty, least of all the woman holding onto his heart like she held onto one of her many guns. One good squeeze and she could blow his whole life apart.

“Christ, you haven’t said a word. Is this outfit that bad?” He still didn’t answer her. Not with him fantasizing about her, that bustier, and those damn handcuffs. He wondered how many times he could make her scream his name.

“Okay. I’m changing.” She turned to walk away.

“Don’t you dare.” She stopped, clearly surprised by his order. And it
was
an order. “Get my ass over here.”

She smirked. “What? You think you’re going to give me orders when we’re not—”

“Now.”

What a demanding son of a bitch. Yet she did exactly what he told her to. Of course, she only seemed to operate that way when she knew some kind of sex would be involved. Otherwise, she made the man work for it.

He lounged on the bed like a lion sunning himself on a rock in the Serengeti. With crossed arms, she stood in front of him.

“What?”

He watched her with those gold eyes. “I like that top.” At least she guessed that’s what he said since he growled more than spoke.

Dez ran her hands down the front self-consciously. The bustier had been a guilty pleasure buy. One so expensive she saw it more as an investment. She didn’t do the S & M thing. Yet she did like their wardrobes. Very few people knew that. Somehow, though, she didn’t mind showing that side of herself to Mace. Although she never expected to see that expression in his eyes. It went way beyond desire to something else altogether, and Dez had no idea if she were ready to handle that.

She cleared her throat. “I’ve only worn it once. The cop bar down the block from the precinct just doesn’t seem the right place for this thing.”

His eyes narrowed. “Some guy buy it for you?”

“What do you care?”

He slowly pulled himself up until he kneeled on the bed in front of her. “Answer my question.”

“No.”

He watched her closely, then leered. “You bought it for yourself, didn’t you?”

“Are we going or not?” She started to walk away again, embarrassed he picked up on her thing about leather so quickly, but he grabbed her arm and hauled her up against him.

“You did. Didn’t you?” He brushed his lips against hers. “My kinky little puppy.”

“I hate you.”

He kissed the bare flesh above the swell of her breasts. “You wish.”

Her hands snaked through his hair. “God, I do.” She breathed desperately as he bent her back. She wanted to hate the man, but he continued to make her ache in all the best places. No man had ever gotten to her like this before.

“I thought…we were…going…”

He gripped her tighter. “Fuck ’em.”

“No. We’re going out.” She pulled away from Mace.

Surprised and none too happy, he made a grab for her. She jumped back to the door.

“We’re going out.”

“I don’t want to. Get over here.”

Oh, she liked this. For once, she had the control—and without handcuffs. It sure did feel good.

She shook her head. “I’m going out now. Wearing this top. You can stay here with the dogs or you can come with me. Your call, cat.” Then she slipped out into the hallway and down the stairs.

Mace crossed his arms in front of his chest and silently seethed. This had been a bad idea. He knew it as soon as they arrived at the Pack’s hotel. The whole group had been waiting outside for them, and as soon as Dez stepped out of the cab, every male wolf eye turned to her—and those tits. In general, it hadn’t been a bad evening really. A good dinner, some drinking since they didn’t drive in, a couple of clubs, dancing with Dez, and a few near fistfights made for a festive Christmas Eve. But the male wolves were clearly into Dez, and as always she was clearly oblivious.

Now they sat in Dez’s favorite coffeehouse a few blocks from where she crash-landed in his lap a few nights ago, talking and drinking espresso. Mace probably wouldn’t be so annoyed if Dez sat near him, but she sat near Sissy Mae, and the male wolves suddenly found a reason to sit near the pair. He glanced at Smitty, who seemed to be seriously enjoying himself since, for once, the wolves were ignoring his sister.

His friend turned to him, and they both knew in a few more minutes Mace would start kicking some dog butt.

Dez put her hands over her ears. “We are not having this conversation.”

“But you know I’m right,” Sissy whispered.

“You are not right. You are very, very wrong, and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“No, I’m not. I think you’d look lovely in white.”

“You do know I’m the one person who can shoot you and make it look like justifiable homicide?”

Sissy Mae shook her head. “But you love me.”

That was it. Dez stood up. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Okay. We can talk about china patterns and the right bouquet when you get back.”

Like a dog with a bone.

Dez walked to the back of the coffeehouse until she got to the bathroom. She went into the stall and took care of business quickly. She wanted to get back to Mace. She found it quite entertaining watching him get jealous.

She washed her hands, dried them, and headed back to Mace and the Pack, but she stopped when a small hand grabbed her leather jacket and tugged.

Dez turned to see a small child standing behind her. Tears poured to the floor and she pointed to the back door. “Please,” the little girl whispered, her head down. “I think my brother’s hurt and I can’t find my parents.”

Dez crouched down next to her. “It’s okay, honey. Show me. And then we’ll go find your parents, okay?”

The child led Dez outside as she marveled at how fucking irresponsible some parents were. It was well after two
A
.
M
. These kids should be in bed, not hanging out at a coffeehouse while their parents did whatever they did.

Dez followed the child to another small child, lying faceup in the alley. Dez snapped her phone off her hip and flipped it open as she touched the child’s face. She had just punched in 911 and was about to hit Talk when the child’s eyes snapped open and he smiled. Dez blinked.

Jesus Christ, are those fangs?

Then Dez watched the ground rush up to meet her.

Mace’s phone vibrated against his side. He pulled it out of its holster and glanced at caller ID. He rolled his eyes as he flipped the phone open. “Yeah?”

“Mace?”

His sister sounded panicked. She never sounded panicked. She didn’t allow that particular emotion. “What is it, Miss?”

“Um…I’m sorry to ask you this, but I was just talking to Shaw and we got cut off.”

“Oh…kay.”

“It was the way we were cut off, Mace. I’m afraid something’s happened to him.”

Mace caught Smitty’s eye. “Do you know where he was?”

“That’s what really has me worried. He told me he was at the Chapel. Mace, that’s hyena territory.”

“Yeah, I know. But didn’t you tell him what I told you about Doogan?”

“I never got a chance. He didn’t come to the house last night. He hates all the social events.”

A man after Mace’s heart. “I’ll go over there and see if I can find him.”

She sighed. “Thank you.”

Mace closed his phone. “Want to go babysit Shaw?”

Smitty grinned. “Hey, our first job.”

Even when human, Smitty’s tail always seemed to be wagging.

Mace looked around, noticing for the first time Dez hadn’t come back from the bathroom. “Sissy, where’s Dez?”