The Mane Event

Chapter One

“They found the body last night.”

Mace Llewellyn watched the police activity going on in front of his Pride’s home. He knew when he saw one of the Pride males waiting for him at LaGuardia Airport something was wrong. Still, hearing that a Pride male had been found with the back of his head blown out did take him by surprise. But only for a moment. He shrugged his shoulders. “And?”

Shaw, one of the more recent additions to the Pride, smiled. “I’m just doing what she asked me to. She said to pick you up at the airport, and that’s what I did.”

Rubbing his hand over his head, Mace sighed. Damn Pride bullshit. He didn’t have time for this. Or for them. His sisters and cousins. Waiting in that house like fucking queens of the Serengeti. They still hadn’t figured it out. Mace no longer wanted this. The day he signed the papers making him the property of the United States Navy, he ceased to belong to the Pride. Fourteen years in service had made him a man with a purpose.

He had two goals in his life at the moment, both of which involved his future. The first would work itself out with few problems. He would finally start his own business. He already had the financial backers and a partner. The second would be more difficult. He needed to find a woman. Not any woman, but the woman who had haunted his dreams and fantasies for longer than he could remember. The woman who deserted him more than twenty years ago. True, they had only been fourteen at the time but, damn her, it was the principle of the thing. He would find her. He would find her and he’d claim her.

The potential reality that she may be married with six kids or living in Istanbul as a nun never crossed his feline mind. He knew what he wanted. So he would have her. But, as usual, his sisters were in his way.

“Not sure why I should care.”

“Neither am I. Personally, I’m glad to see Petrov gone.”

Mace gave the man a sidelong glance, unable to hide his smirk. “Did you kill him?”

“Oh please.” Shaw studied his fingernails. Then he unleashed his claws and studied them as well. “Do you really see me bothering with killing him?” He looked at Mace. “I mean…really?”

The man had a point.

“Besides, he did know how to party. Petrov had…exotic tastes. So, anyone could have killed him.” Shaw resheathed his claws. “And what did you do to your head?”

Mace rolled his eyes. “Couldn’t exactly have a mane in the United States Navy, now could I?”

“I guess.” Shaw cracked his big neck. “She probably just wants to see you. You are her only brother.”

And the only Breeding Male of the Llewellyn line.

No. They would not have that conversation again. About his duty to the Pride and the Llewellyn name. He’d done his duty for his country. The Navy reluctantly cut him loose. He wasn’t about to go back into another service that would last a lifetime.

And he sure as hell wasn’t about to let them trade him out to another Pride like a New York Mets pitcher.

Shaw, however, clearly enjoyed his life. As the top Breeding Male of the Llewellyn Pride, he couldn’t ask for better. For some, being a Pride male was a great existence. The females fed you, bore your cubs, and made sure you lived comfortably. In return, you simply needed to help them breed when they were ready and protect them and their cubs from other Pride males. On the surface, it seemed great. For some it was. But not for Mace. He wanted more. He wanted his own mate. In particular, the girl he’d lost so long ago. She would be his and his alone. He had absolutely no intention of being in service to the Pride females like some rutting bull.

“I’m not coming back.”

“Don’t care. I could care less what you do. Although I would like you to get out of my car now.”

With another sigh, Mace grabbed his duffel bag and stepped out of the Mercedes that Shaw picked him up in. He didn’t go through the front door with all the media activity, but went around to the side. Several uniformed cops and a Pride male stood by the side entrance. The Pride male glanced at him, scrutinized his shaved head, and then let him in with a laugh. Mace fought the desire to snap the man’s neck. A fight he almost didn’t win.

He slipped into the back of the house, through the kitchens. The staff glanced at him but kept working. The holidays were their busiest time because of all the balls and charity events. Although Mace didn’t know a less-spirited group than his sisters when it came to the holidays. Mace reached the other end of the kitchen, pushing the swinging door open, when his phone rang. He dug into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out the cell phone.

“Yeah?”

“Hey. It’s me.” Watts. An old friend who knew how to find information whenever and wherever he needed it.

“What did you find out?”

“She’s still living in New York. Divorced.” Mace closed his eyes and let out a silent breath. He’d hate to start killing people at this stage in the game. Especially some poor schmuck who happened to marry the wrong woman. “And you’ll love this. She’s a cop. NYPD.”

“Really?” He knew that had always been her dream, but he always wanted to be a hockey player. That didn’t mean he ever strapped on pads and joined the New York Islanders.

Mace glanced out one of the big windows looking over the garden. He saw them standing around. Uniformed cops drinking coffee and talking amongst themselves. Mace looked down the hall leading to his sister’s office.

“Are you still there? I’ve got more.”

“Tell me later. I gotta go.” Mace closed his phone. He licked his lips and tried to slow his breathing. She couldn’t really be here…could she? But hell, if she were then he’d always been right. A sign from the goddess Druantia, Queen of the Druids, herself—she belonged to him. She would always belong to him.

He made his way to his sister’s private offices, hearing the arguing before he even reached the door. He could hear her getting good and frothy with someone, too. Not surprising. Last thing the Pride needed was a bunch of cops searching into their lives. But Petrov had not only been his sister’s employee and one of the Breeding Males, he lived on the premises. Since a shot to the back of the head usually indicated murder, the cops had every right to check the house out.

Of course, all that logic wouldn’t mean a damn to Missy, leader of the Llewellyn Pride females, his oldest sister, and the official family pain in the ass.

Mace turned the corner, one more hallway away from his sister’s office, when he smelled her.

He stopped. Cold. It took him less than a second to recognize it. He knew it better than he knew his own name. Implanted on his adolescent brain more than twenty years ago, his adult brain still remembered it. In fact, his adult brain acted like his adolescent brain used to. It stopped functioning. All it wanted to do was wrap itself around the owner of that scent and purr. The cat in him wanted to stretch out his body and rub his face into that scent.

He’d been right. She was here. That explained his sister’s anger. She hated her. Hated her whole family. Missy would never let her anywhere near the Pride home…unless, of course, she had no choice.

He came around the corner, slowly moving into the secretary’s office. One more door and he’d reach Missy’s office or, as he liked to call it, “Destination: Hell.” He could hear his sister dressing down someone behind the closed office door and he didn’t envy the man, but he had something much more important right in front of him. He had her.

She stood in front of the window overlooking Columbus Circle with her back to him. She didn’t seem moved at all by the yelling coming from Missy’s office. She radiated calm. Her energy centered. Her arms folded in front of her chest. Not nearly as tall as the women in his family, she stood no more than five foot eight or so. But curvy. Ripe. A brick house. She’d filled out in all the right places. She’d cut her auburn hair so it brushed thick against the collar of her leather jacket. As he glanced down the length of her sumptuous body, he could see the woman armed herself better than most SEALs. A gun holster bulged large behind her leather jacket, and a smaller ankle holster on her right leg under her black slacks. It also looked like her left leg sported a holster with a small blade, which he seriously doubted any other cop in the state would consider legal.

Her phone vibrated against her hip. She easily slipped the small device out of its holster, glanced at the caller ID, and answered. At that point, he almost dropped to his knees and crawled to her. That voice. That goddamn, fucking voice. Like ten miles of bad road in the hot desert, but she’d somehow tamed that brutal Bronx accent. A bit of a disappointment, though. He loved that accent on her. She used to wear it like an old leather jacket. Now she kept it muted, controlled. Kind of like her. He smiled and wondered what it would take to get back that Bronx girl he knew and still loved. Thankfully, though, there was nothing she could do about that voice. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and let her voice roll over him like a rough wave.

“I thought you’d never call me back. You won’t believe where I am.” She laughed and his balls tightened. “Missy Llewellyn’s house…no, I’m not lying. How could I make that up?”

She scratched her long neck. The desire to lick the same spot nearly strangling him. “Jesus Christ, don’t you read the papers? One of her people was killed in Battery Park. A couple of joggers found him. What? Nah. So, any message you want me to give her?” Her body began to shake as she stifled a laugh. “Well, I don’t think I’ll give her that message. Geez. And you said I hold a grudge.”

After a few more moments, her body stiffened. “No. I can’t. I’m working, that’s why. Yes. Even on Christmas day. Besides, I hate Christmas. I have moral issues with celebrating it.” He frowned to keep from laughing. She had “moral issues with” celebrating Christmas? The crap she could come up with still amazed him.

“Look, I gotta go. No, I’m not arguing about this.” She closed the phone and slipped it back into its holster.

Dear God, the woman was still beautiful. After all these years. All this time. And he bet he could have her pants off and be inside her in…he glanced at his watch. Thirty seconds. Yeah. That would work.

Desiree MacDermot stared out the windows of the secretary’s office and waited. Well, waited and fumed. Leave it to her oldest sister to ruin her moment in the sun. Here she stood in their archenemy’s house, moments away from throwing the rich heifer’s ass in the back of a squad car, and what does her sister say? “Are you coming to Mom and Dad’s for Christmas dinner?”

Why of course I am. I also plan to remove skin from the most sensitive parts of my body and rub salt into the open wounds.

Because isn’t that what the holidays are all about—letting your family make you wish you were an orphan?

Dez shook off her sister’s clear attempt to make her miserable. How could she be miserable when she had grand plans of making Missy Llewellyn cry? Missy, who seemed to love nothing more than to make the MacDermot sisters’ lives hell. Apparently, it wasn’t enough that all three of them had earned the right to be at the exclusive Cathedral School of Manhattan by earning top-level scholarships. Or that their parents worked damn hard to get their daughters the best they could afford. No, to Missy and the other Llewellyn sisters, none of that meant shit. They only cared about one thing—the fact the MacDermots were poor, Puerto Rican–Irish girls from the Bronx. And they wanted to make sure they never forgot it.

Maybe God would decide to smile down on her and she’d be able to piss off Missy so much the woman would do something stupid. Oh, if Missy would only hit her. Then Dez could handcuff the bitch and dump her butt in a holding cell for a few hours. Maybe the hookers would make her cry. Like she made Dez cry all those years ago on that muggy late-August day.

“You’ll never be good enough for him.”

That’s what they told her as all four sisters circled her like a pack of wolves. She never forgot those brutal words, but she never let them hold her back either. Far from it. She probably should thank Missy. Without her inherently evil nature, Dez may not have had the guts to become a cop. She decided then and there to prove Missy Llewellyn wrong, and as far as she could tell, she had. Dez realized now these people, with all their money and connections, weren’t nearly good enough for her.

Desperately fighting the smile that threatened to spread across her entire face, she suddenly realized all her fantasies seemed to be coming true at one time. The thought of putting Missy in a squad car actually made her nipples hard.

Nope. This was quietly turning into the best day ever. Like someone hit her in the head with her Christmas gift five days early. It almost brought a tear of happiness to her eye. Nothing would ever beat this. Absolutely nothing.

“So where the hell have you been?”

Dez shuddered. Man, that voice sounded familiar. She only knew of one person with a voice like that. A freaky little kid who had to be the smallest fourteen-year-old she’d ever remembered seeing with the lowest voice she’d ever heard. She spun on her heel…only to be faced with a god, if she did say so herself. Big. Like some kind of beautiful linebacker. A shaved head with a serious five o’clock shadow issue, and gold-colored eyes. Eyes that, at the moment, were staring at her like a slab of prime rib. No. This couldn’t be Mace Llewellyn. Her heart dropped. True, this man was pretty, but she saw pretty every day. The Mace she remembered wasn’t pretty, but he always knew how to make her smile. She learned over the years that was a hell of a lot more important than looks.

“Well…answer me.”

Uh-oh. Nutcase alert. How come all the good-looking ones were insane? “I’m…uh…sorry. Do I know you?”

He crossed big arms over a big chest and smirked at her. “Take a minute. Let it come to you.”

She blinked and tried to remember all the exits out of the room in case the gorgeous nutcase went postal.

“Still waiting.”

It hit her. Like a slap to the forehead. But…no. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t humanly possible. But that superior tone. That haughty expression. That damn smirk. That killer voice that had deliciously matured with age. All together, they really could only belong to one person. The one person she’d been waiting more than twenty years to see again.

What happened to the boy she remembered? Apparently, this…this…man replaced him. Oh, and what a man!

But no matter how different he looked, she still knew. Maybe those freaky gold eyes gave him away. Or those gorgeous full lips that, even at fourteen, she hadn’t been immune to.

Or maybe the way he stared at her. Like he spent every waking moment imagining her naked.

Only one person ever looked at her like that. Well, only one person ever looked at her like that where she didn’t have the overwhelming desire to rip eyes from sockets.

“Oh my God—Mace?”

Time had done wonders for her. Some women never looked as good as they did in high school, especially at thirty-six. But she did. Better. She still had those killer eyes. Gray with flecks of green. He used to stare into those eyes during biology class as they faked their way through the experiments. Of course, that’s when he wasn’t staring at that beautiful face with that cute, little pug nose or that incredibly hot body. She’d been an early bloomer, wearing a healthy C cup while the other girls were just moving from training bras. All of that didn’t matter, though. Not to Mace. That was just the cherry on top.

For him, it had been more than her big tits and luscious mouth. Dez actually liked him back then. Just the way he was. Ninety pounds soaking wet, barely five foot three, a head of hair he couldn’t control, and the attitude of a giant. Most people didn’t like Mace. Dez, however, found him funny and smart. Even his sisters never saw him that way. To a fourteen-year-old, that meant everything to him.

Then she left him. Walked out of his life and never came back. At the moment, Mace was completely ready to push her up against the wall and demand she tell him how she could leave him like she did.

For years, a part of him kept expecting to see her again. Although he always wished he could forget about her. Lose himself in some of the other women he had met since he last saw her saddle shoes walking down the school hall and out of his life. But he never could. No matter how hard he tried, he could never forget about her. Hell, he still dreamed about her. She was older in his dreams, thank God, but his dreams didn’t do justice to the woman now standing in front of him, an NYPD badge hanging on a chain around her neck.

“Mace Llewellyn? Is that you?”

So, she did remember him. Good. Now he could tell her what a bitch she’d been for leaving him. For breaking his fourteen-year-old heart into a million pieces and stomping on it with her saddle shoes. He geared himself to do it, too—until she smiled at him. A smile that practically knocked him on his ass.

After all these years, the woman leaped beyond perfect. Especially when she literally threw herself at him, her arms looping around his neck.

“Jesus, Mace! I can’t believe it!”

His eyes almost rolled to the back of his head when she pressed her curvaceous body against his. Without even thinking about it, he wrapped her in a bear hug and lifted her off her feet. She actually squealed, which sounded strange with that voice of hers.

“I don’t believe it, Mace!” He didn’t either. How did anyone smell this good? How was it humanly possible?

She laughed. “Stop sniffing my neck!” She pushed against his shoulders and leaned back, but he wouldn’t let her go. “I can’t believe you’re still doing that.”

“You smell good.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“So?”

“So, what?”

“Answer my question.”

“Your question?”

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Aw, Mace. Gimme a break.” She tried to pull out of his arms, but he held fast. “Are you going to let me go?”

“I’m comfortable. Answer my question.”

“My family moved, Mace. To Queens. My sisters and I went to a different school. I assure you it was nothing personal.” He stared at her. “It wasn’t!”

“Did you write me?”

“No, Mace.”

“Did you think about me?”

“Oh, come on!”

“What? It’s a valid question.”

“You know, you come from one of the wealthiest families in New York. You could have tracked me down if you really wanted to see me that badly.”

“I was in military school.”

Dez tried not to laugh, but it was a sad, weak attempt. “Sorry. I guess I just have a hard time imagining you taking orders from…you know…anybody.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Mace. It’s me.”

He gazed down into her face. “Yeah. It sure is you.” Their eyes locked and, for several moments, they did nothing but stare at each other.

Dez shook her head. “Okay. Put me down.”

“Why?”

“Mace!”

He dropped her, forcing Dez to rock back on her heels. This, of course, forced him to grab her ass to steady her before she fell back.

“Hands off, Llewellyn. Or I’m turning your nads into a necklace.”

He smiled as he released her. “Well, you haven’t changed.”

“Neither have you. I see Captain Ego still lives.”

No other woman existed who he let get away with calling him that. He glanced down at himself. “I haven’t changed? Not even a little?”

“I don’t mean physically, you idiot.” She punched him lightly on the shoulder, blinked in surprise, and suddenly felt the bicep under his leather jacket. “I definitely don’t mean physically.”

He grinned at her, enjoying that his body seemed to have her so distracted. “You doing all right there, beautiful?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“At least tell me you missed me.”

She nodded as her voice softened. “Yeah, Mace. I missed you. You were my best friend.”

Best friend? He never wanted to be her best friend. He wanted to be her boyfriend. He wanted her parents to catch them on their couch making out. He wanted to buy her one of those tacky ID bracelets with his name on it. He wanted to tattoo “Property of Mace Llewellyn” on her forehead.

“Stop frowning, Mace.” She reached up and ran her hand over his brow. A move she used to do a lot in school. Often the only thing that kept him calm back then. The only thing that kept him from tearing idiot jocks and rich assholes apart with his newly sprouted fangs. “It’s been over twenty years, Mace. Let it go, bonehead.” She ran her thumb down his nose, spreading her hand out so her fingers cupped his cheek. He leaned into her hand and she smiled that smile.

Even after all these years, she knew just how to handle him. How to contain the beast within his heart without even trying. Oh yeah. This woman was destined to be his. And nothing would get in his way now.

“What the hell do you think you are doing with my brother?”

Mace growled and wondered how much prison time a man would do for tossing his sister into the East River.

Mace’s body tensed against her hand. Then she heard that Mace growl. He only used that when something really pissed him off. Poor baby, seemed he still didn’t get along any better with his sisters than she did with her own.

She looked over her shoulder at the beautiful Missy Llewellyn. Unlike Mace, Missy hadn’t changed much. Still lean, gold, and beautiful. Pretty much the exact opposite of Dez whose least-favorite uncle still referred to her as “the pudgy one.”

“Well? Answer me.” And still mean as a snake.

Oooh. A pissed Missy. Dez loved this. She could have been good. She should have been nice. But come on. The entire homicide department didn’t call her The Instigator for nothing.

Dez turned to face Missy and leaned back into Mace’s chest. Then, for the hell of it, she grabbed his big arms and wrapped them around her waist. Initially, she surprised herself with her physical reaction to Mace. Throwing herself into the arms of a man she hadn’t seen in more than twenty years really wasn’t her style. But just the sight of him brought back that fourteen-year-old girl who could never get enough of Mace and his inherent weirdness. But now? Well, using Mace to torture his sister—just a Dez party.

She smiled at Missy. “Your brother asked me to come with him to a hotel for some wild, dirty animal sex…and I said lead the way.”

Oh yeah. If looks could kill, she’d be nothing more than a greasy spot on the woman’s carpet. Apparently, Missy still felt Dez didn’t deserve her brother. Which only made the whole thing that much more fun. Of course, Mace tightening his grip on her body and nuzzling her neck—that didn’t hurt either. She wasn’t surprised, though, when Mace played along. The two of them together had always been trouble. The nuns always separating them in class, giving them detention, calling them evil incarnate and condemning them to the fiery pits of hell. Ya know…whatever.

Seemed some things never changed.

“So, Mace, I get off work in a couple more hours.”

He shook his head. “Baby, I can’t wait that long. Let’s go bang this out in my sister’s office. You know. To take the edge off.” Dez wrestled the part of her that wanted to take Mace up on that particular offer and kept the game going instead.

“That is sooo romantic, Mace. I never knew you were so romantic.”

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know yet. Besides, Missy’s desk is a nice, sturdy mahogany. We could go at it like wolves on that thing, and it wouldn’t budge.”

Ah, the Mace she remembered. The smart-ass kid who tortured people on a daily basis for his own amusement, and his sister was no exception. Actually, Dez knew he went out of his way to torture his sister and that he enjoyed every minute of it.

Yup. Her day just kept getting better and better.

Could his day get any better? The woman of his dreams cuddled up in his arms and his sister in an almost violent rage. A few more minutes of this and he would start purring and not stop.

“Mason,” his sister spit that out between clenched teeth. “I need to speak with you. In private.”

Mace watched her. He wondered how long before she snapped.

“Now!”

Well that took all of ten seconds.

He watched her rigid back stalk into her office.

“Ooh, Mace. You’re in tru-ble,” Dez whispered in a singsong voice.

He pulled her closer to him. He couldn’t help himself. Did she have any idea exactly how tasty she was?

Another cop came to stand beside them. He glared at Mace, but Mace ignored him. He wouldn’t let anything distract him from the woman in his arms.

“We’re out of here.”

“What? Why?”

“Got a call from the lieutenant. They’re pulling us. I’ve been informed we have enough information for this investigation and we are not to harass Ms. Llewellyn any longer. And would you two stop whatever you’re doing?”

“Hey, B! You’re harshin’ my buzz.”

With an annoyed groan, the man turned away from them. Dez looked at Mace over her shoulder. “Mr. Llewellyn, I do believe your sister made a call.”

“I believe you’re right, Detective.” His sister had a lot of political connections and was not shy about using them whenever it served her.

“Too bad. I had such plans of torture for her. And they all involved her desk.” Smiling, Dez turned, reached up, and kissed Mace on the cheek. He’d had many women do much more intense things to him over the years, but none of it felt as good as that simple kiss. “It was really good seeing you again, Mace.”

She pulled away from him and he grudgingly let her go.

“And I’m glad you’re doing okay. Although I never doubted you’d do any less.” She motioned to her partner. “Let’s get out of here, B.”

The male left. Dez followed behind, but Mace stopped her with one word. “Wait.”

Dez looked at him, curious why he wanted her to wait. Actually, she found herself curious about a lot of things when it came to Mace.

“Go out with me tonight. Dinner.”

She laughed at what was clearly an order as opposed to a request. “No.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t even remember my name, Mason Llewellyn.” He hadn’t said her name even once in the last ten minutes. It hurt to think he’d so easily forgotten about her, but when you looked like Mace now did, how could you remember all the women? Especially one who you hadn’t actually slept with.

Dez turned and headed down the hallway.

“Desiree.” She froze as his low voice slid across her skin. “Patricia. Marie. MacDermot. Dez for short.”

Dez spun around, her mouth open in awe. “How the hell did you remember all that?” He even included her confirmation name. No one knew her confirmation name except the parish priest, and that’s because he really didn’t like her much.

“I remember everything about you, Dez. Absolutely everything.”

Her breath caught on a sigh. Her heart began to beat faster. And she suddenly wondered if Mace could feel her blood racing through her veins.

After a few moments, she shook herself. “You’re still doing it, Mace.” The bastard.

“Doing what?”

She grinned and glared at him all at the same time. “Torturing me.”

He leaned against the doorjamb, his arms crossing in front of him. He took all of her in. From those cute little feet, past those magnificent breasts, straight to those gray eyes and auburn hair. “Baby, I haven’t even started.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. After another moment, “I’m outta here, Mace.”

This was not how his fantasy went. She kept turning him down. Didn’t she know? “Yes” to dinner today. “Yes” to marriage tomorrow. Dammit, he had a schedule to keep. A schedule that involved getting her sweet ass into bed as fast as humanly possible.

“When will I see you again?”

She walked off down the hall. “For your sister’s sake, you better hope never.”

Then she was gone. But this wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

Dez got in the passenger side of the car, leaning her head back against the seat and staring up at the roof of the Chevrolet.

“Don’t do it, Dez.”

She glanced at her partner of four years. “Don’t do what?”

“Get all bunged up over this guy. He’s rich. He’s a Llewellyn. And he can have any piece of ass he wants in this town.”

“I’m a piece of ass.” Dez grinned. “That guy from last week, who believes aliens were talking to him and that’s why he tried to set his neighbor on fire, said I was fabulous.”

Bukowski, chuckling, started the car. “And he was right, even though he wasn’t the healthiest man we’ve ever arrested. But a guy like Llewellyn would never realize it. So don’t waste your time.”

“I know. I know. A girl can fantasize, though.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

He pulled out into traffic and headed back to the precinct.

Mace Llewellyn. Back in New York and looking tastier than anything she’d ever seen before. Who knew he’d turn out like that? She’d always thought of him as adorable back in the day. The cute boy who sat next to her in science class, making her laugh by mocking everyone around them while trying not to stare at her breasts. He’d been brutal, witty, and her biggest crush ever. Now, however, well…now the man was a god. He had to be at least six foot four and well over two hundred pounds, without a single ounce of fat on him.

Initially, she’d been unimpressed with the males she caught glimpses of while waiting around for Missy. Too pretty. Too glossy. Too…clean. They wore Armani suits and seven-hundred-dollar watches. They were all blond. No, not blond. Gold. Seriously gold. Their skin. Their eyes. Their hair. It was hard to believe these people lived in New York. Her New York. Where you found every shade, every hue, every color under the freakin’ rainbow.

As far as Dez was concerned, her family represented true New York culture. Her father a good Irish boy from Hell’s Kitchen. Her mother a sweet Puerto Rican from the Bronx. Together those two people created one brown-skinned daughter who looked like she just arrived off the boat from Cataño. Another redheaded daughter with pale skin who looked like she should be on Broadway in Riverdance.

Then they made Dez, who dangled between both worlds. Her straight brown hair had a reddish tinge. Her skin seemed to have spent too much time in the sun. Plus she had the same damn freaky-colored eyes as her dad.

Mason seemed to have the same problem. He belonged and he didn’t.

He always had the golden hair. The golden eyes. Even that golden skin. But now he had something rough and ready about him. He had stubble on that strong, square jaw. He had recently shaved off that golden hair, although it seemed to be fighting its way back. His pensive gold eyes showed he’d seen a lot of the world over the past twenty years. And based on the brutal scar that cut across his neck, the world had been pretty hard on him.

Yeah, but Bukowski probably hit it right on the head. A guy like Mace was way out of her league…if she had a league. It’s not like she dated much once her marriage to “The Idiot” ended four years ago.

Still, the fourteen-year-old Mace used to give her this little tingle at the base of her spine when he would smile at her in biology lab. This adult Mace, though, made her entire body tingle—violently.

She didn’t even think Mace noticed her back then. He always treated her like a sister he didn’t actually hate. After seeing him now, though…well, she really hoped he didn’t actually look at his own sisters like that.

Dez had changed. And all for the better. No longer the painfully shy girl trying to hide huge breasts behind a load of books so the jocks would stop trying to grab her, this Dez reeked of attitude and confidence. Almost cocky. Even the way she moved. She walked with her back straight, head held high, breasts straining beneath a burgundy turtleneck sweater, daring a guy to touch them. And seeing the way she moved, Mace had no doubt she would snap the neck of the first fucker who tried something.

Yup. He still wanted her. Had to have her. And, like a gazelle running past him on the African plains, he would do whatever necessary to get his paws on her.

Mace looked at the door that blocked him from his sister. With a heavy sigh, he walked toward it and prayed they got along better this time. He wasn’t sure he could handle any more stitches on his throat.

Chapter Two

“What exactly were you doing with that…that…police person?”

Mace’s feet sat comfortably atop his sister’s desk, and his eyes stared up at the ceiling.

“Well, if you hadn’t interrupted us, I probably would have laid her out on your desk and—”

“Mason Llewellyn! This is not funny. That idiot is a cop—believe it or not—and she’s trying to prove that I had something to do with Alexander’s death. She actually asked me if I killed him.”

Mace watched his beautiful sister. She took after their mother. He took after his father. And they got along about as well as that pair did.

“Did you?”

Missy glared at him. “Of course I didn’t!”

“Just checking. I know how cranky you can get.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you.”

“As a matter of fact—”

“You have no idea what’s going on.”

Something in his sister’s tone made him stop. Something tired…and scared.

“You’re right. So why don’t you explain it to me.”

Missy began rubbing her temples. A sure sign her stress level just hit a new high. “I don’t know. I think someone’s trying to take over the Pride. Force the males out.”

“You’re telling me lions shot Petrov?”

“I said I don’t know.”

“Clearly.”

An unspoken rule among shifters—never fight against another shifter with anything but your fangs, claws, and hunting skills. One of the reasons few lions shed a tear over the loss of the Withell Pride a few months back. Using poison on your claws? Tasteless.

“You sure it’s not hyenas? I know I’ve been away for a while, but you can’t tell me you’re getting along with them.”

Missy sniffed. “Hardly.” No. He didn’t think things had changed that much. Not when Missy still sported a scar on her back from a childhood fight with a hyena. They were the only shifters Mace knew of born with their fangs and the belief that everything around them existed simply to be their prey.

“Just be careful, Mason. If some other males are planning to take over, I’m not sure if they’ll see you as a threat or not.”

Males always left the Pride they were born to, but since the Llewellyns were one of the “civilized” Prides that traded their males out, his existence created a bit of a problem and a threat to outsiders trying to claim his sisters and cousins as their own. With his money and name, the Pride could get three higher-level males for him.

Of course, that particular thought made him want to retch.

Although, Mace really wasn’t worried. He learned a long time ago how to survive without the Pride. He’d been the hunter and the hunted. Trapped in the middle of firefights with seemingly no way out. He’d killed. Humans. To protect his men and himself. His days of pampering had disappeared as soon as he went off to the Naval Academy.

But his sister’s concern almost made him feel like he didn’t hate her. Almost.

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Nothing at the moment. Just keep breathing.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know yet. I don’t want some renegade males trying to take over this Pride. Sherry had two cubs last month by Petrov.” Missy shuddered. “I’d hate to think what they’d do if they got in.”

He didn’t want to ask the next question, but his stupid sense of duty and loyalty wouldn’t allow him to do any less. “Do you need me to stay here?”

“No. Shaw and Reynolds won’t stand for it, and I don’t need you three snarling at each other over breakfast. Besides, we have some important people coming over for a holiday banquet tomorrow. And since I know you won’t clean yourself up for it—”

Mace held up his hand. “A simple ‘no’ really would have answered my question.”

“Where will you stay? And don’t say your apartment. It won’t be safe.”

He wanted to say “between Dez’s thighs,” but that would simply set his sister off again.

“Actually a buddy of mine from the navy is coming to town. He and his Pack are staying here for the holidays. I can crash with them for a while.” He looked up to find his sister staring at him in horror. “Is there a problem?”

“Did you say Pack?”

“Yes.”

“You’re friends with a…a…dog?”

“He prefers wolf, but yeah, I am.” He actually considered Smitty his brother. They’d saved each other’s life on more than one occasion.

“But…you can’t be friends with him.”

In theory, maybe. They were Pack and Pride, dog and cat; he and Smitty should be the worst of enemies. Especially with the Pack-Pride war that had been going on for decades. But the military created strange bedfellows. Guys who had to rely on each other for their survival. Smitty was and always would be one of his best buds. Even if Mace caught him on more than one occasion licking his own balls.

“You know the funny thing is, Missy, I’m really not asking your fucking permission.”

“Don’t you dare curse at me, Mason! I’m not one of your military cohorts or that slut from the Bronx.” Mace looked back up at the ceiling. Five minutes with his sister and he felt twelve years old again.

“Now,” she continued, “are you at least going to come over for Christmas? I have a gift for you.”

Mace glanced around Missy’s office. There wasn’t one sign that in five days the world would be celebrating Christmas. It could easily be the middle of August for all the decorations that his sister had up.

“Are you even celebrating Christmas?”

“Don’t be smart. The living room is quite decorated. I just don’t like tinsel and things in my office.”

He didn’t even have to ask to know that his sisters hired someone to decorate their living room. No way would the Pride’s females lower themselves to something as middle class as putting up a Christmas tree.

“We’ll have to see. I may be busy.”

His sister’s gold eyes narrowed. “Not with that woman.”

If he were lucky, Christmas day his cock would be so far inside Dez MacDermot, going anywhere would be a physical impossibility.

But to his sister, he shrugged. “You never know…”

Dez cringed as her boss slammed his door closed. But before she could walk away, he snatched it open again. “And I better not see your ass until after the New Year!” He slammed it again.

Dez glared at Bukowski as she headed back to her desk. “I didn’t even do anything.”

“You did ask her if she killed Petrov. I think your exact words were, ‘You whacked him, didn’t you? You sadistic bitch.’”

“Sadistic heifer. And it was just a question.”

“Uh-huh. Well, your ‘question’ now has you on a lovely vacation until after the holidays.”

“Still doesn’t seem fair.”

“Maybe not.” Bukowski threw himself into his desk chair. “But your dad is the one who golfs with the lieutenant every couple of weeks. Whatcha wanna bet he went on and on about his poor baby working every holiday?”

Who knew bringing her dad to an NYPD function would cause all this trouble? She introduced him to her lieutenant, and once the men found out they were both veteran Marines, they got along like a house on fire. Then they started golfing several times a month with some other Marines. Dez knew it would only be a matter of time before her father found out that she really didn’t have to work during the holidays. With her seniority and vacation time, she could take the entire month of December off.

But Dez worked the holidays for a reason. Because anything had to be better than another Christmas with her sisters. There were just so many times a woman could hear she was a failure with men and in her career before it really started to hurt.

Dez flopped herself into her chair and glowered at a wall. The current situation did not bring her happiness.

“So what are you going to do?”

She glanced at Bukowski, then back at the wall covered in “wanted” flyers. “Pretend it didn’t happen.”

Her partner chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

Dez turned her chair around and glanced at the Petrov file sitting on her desk. She examined the picture attached to it. Petrov had been a handsome man, no doubt about that. But nowhere close to Mace.

Closing the file, Dez glanced up briefly when she heard someone settle into the chair on the other side of her desk. When big feet propped up on the vast amount of paperwork in front of her, she looked back up.

Yeah, that sure was Mace Llewellyn staring at her from the other side of her desk. Just staring. Like he used to. Like he knew where she’d buried the bodies of all her goldfish after their unfortunate “accidents” or what she did with her sisters’ toothbrushes on more than one occasion. The all-knowing, all-seeing Mace stare, and it still made her crazy.

She raised an eyebrow. “Why are you here?”

He mockingly gave her the raised eyebrow back. “You never gave me an answer.”

“Yeah. I did. In fact, my exact words were ‘no’.”

“Yes, but I’ve chosen to ignore that until I hear what I want.”

Dez laughed. “Jesus, Mace. You really haven’t changed all that much, have ya? You’re still…you.”

“Are you talking about my bountiful charisma and overwhelming charm?”

Okay. The hysterical girl-giggling had to stop. A mature woman of thirty-six, she had a divorce under her belt and a healthy mortgage. Acting like the football team captain asked her out to the prom was not, in any way, remotely mature.

“Mace—” Dez stopped and looked around the room. Yeah, she had every idiot’s attention. “Don’t you people have something to do?”

As one, “No.”

She growled and looked back at Mace. She blamed him for what would certainly be hours, maybe even days, of precinct gossip. “Mace. I can’t go out with you.”

“If you’re worried arresting my sister will come between us—really, that’s not a problem. I’m pretty sure it will bind us tighter together. Besides, we made plans…involving Missy’s desk.”

“You know I was only torturing your sister.”

“So you were just using me?” He actually sounded wounded. “Like a whore?”

“Mace…” She stopped and rubbed her eyes. Of all the places he could be doing this, her precinct should not be one of them.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Trying to make me crazy.”

The look he gave her was pure predatory male. “I like you crazy.”

Christ, did he just growl that?

After all these years, Mace still worked her in all the best parts. Making her feel uncomfortably warm…and seriously wet.

Flash-flood warning wet.

Her desk phone rang. She should have been grateful for the distraction from Mace, but she grimaced instead. She did not look forward to this.

Apparently afraid she wouldn’t get the phone herself, Bukowski reached around Mace and picked up the receiver.

“Detective MacDermot’s desk. Well hi, Mrs. MacDermot, how are you?”

She held her hand out. “Gimme the phone, you—” She bit back the curse she had at the ready. It took her years to beat that Bronx girl out of her system. She wasn’t about to let her loose again. Especially in front of the one person she still wanted to impress.

Bukowski tossed the receiver to her. She caught it and brought the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, baby.”

“Hiya, Ma.”

“So, I hear you’re available for dinner on Christmas.”

Jesus Christ, did the lieutenant have her father on speed dial or something?

“Well—”

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Desiree MacDermot!” The acid tone that still made her cringe zipped across the line. “Dinner will be at six. Bring pie. Love ya.” Her mother hung up. As always, the woman was short and to the point.

Dez dropped the phone back in its cradle. This Christmas had gone to hell fast.

She looked up and saw gold eyes staring at her. Actually, they were devouring her.

Holy shit.

The woman was fucking gorgeous.

“Don’t look at me like that, Mace.”

He dropped his feet to the floor. “Like what?”

“You know like what.”

He leaned on the desk, his chin resting in the palm of his hand, and he waited. Waited for her to realize they would be together.

“What, Mace? What?”

“I’m waiting on you.”

“Don’t bother.” She casually waved him off. “Apparently I’ve gotta go buy pie.”

She sounded so despondent, he couldn’t help but smile. “Not a big fan of the holidays?” He’d have to work with her on that. He loved Christmas but had never been able to really celebrate it with his own family. He really wanted Dez to enjoy Christmas as much as he did. Right now, however, she looked like a puppy that got her tennis ball taken away.

“The whole season breaks me out in a rash. I usually work during the holidays, but now, because of your sister, I’ve gotta deal with them.”

“Them?”

“The family.”

He understood her pain. Of course, his sisters weren’t about to demand his presence to anything, especially if there might be a chance he’d end up embarrassing them. And since Mace went out of his way to embarrass them that would be a damn good worry.

“Oh God. I gotta go shopping now.” She buried that beautiful face in her hands. “I hate holiday shopping.”

“You know what? I gotta go shopping too. We should go together.”

She started to drag her hand through her hair, then abruptly stopped. She shook her hand out and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Have you always been this pushy?”

“I’ll buy you a hot chocolate.”

He watched her fight that amazing smile. “Go away, Mace.”

“You’re going to leave me to the tender mercies of these cruel New York streets? All alone? On Christmas? No family?” He sighed, giving her his best “sad look.” He’d perfected it over the years with quite a few sympathetic barhooks. “Missy doesn’t want me around for her big Christmas banquet tomorrow. She says I’ll embarrass her in front of all her friends.”

Dez damn near growled in anger. “You’re her brother. How could she do that to you?” Yes! He had her. At least…well…he did have her.

“Hey, hoss.” Bobby Ray Smith, also called Smitty by his closest friends and the entire United States Navy, grabbed a chair from one of the other desks, pulled it up next to his, and sat down. “They do have some beautiful women in this city.” Why, oh why, did he meet with Smitty first before coming here? Cause you’re a dumb ass, Llewellyn.

Smitty suddenly caught sight of Dez. And like the dog he, literally, was…“Well,” he stated with that slow easy grin that got him more pussy than either of them would ever be able to count. “Hello, darlin’.”

The two shook hands, and Mace had the overwhelming desire to rip Smitty’s arm from his socket.

Dez caught sight of the anchor tattoo on Smitty’s forearm. “Navy?”

“Yup. Got out a few months ago.” Smitty’s slow drawl seemed more annoying than usual. “And Mace got out yesterday. Huh, hoss?”

Mace nodded.

“Navy, Mace?” She actually sounded disappointed.

“Now darlin’, what’s wrong with the Navy?” Smitty still hadn’t let her hand go. Suddenly Mace hated his best friend.

“Nothing. Except it will never be the Marines.”

Dez pulled her hand away as the men glanced at each other.

“You were a Marine?”

Dez glared at him. “You don’t have to sound so shocked, Mace. And I wasn’t just a Marine. I was an MP, baby. Sergeant MacDermot when I discharged.”

Smitty gave that damn charming smile. “He was commander. I made lieutenant. We were SEALs together.” Normally, Mace would have no problem with Smitty dropping that bit of information. Amazing how much sex that little admission would get them. But he didn’t want the flea-bitten bastard making his moves on Dez.

“Wow.” Dez seemed less than interested. “That’s really impressive. Bet that line got you a lot of oral sex too, huh?”

Smitty blinked. “You think I’m lyin’?”

“No. Not at all.” Dez shrugged. “I just don’t care, uh…”

“Bobby Ray Smith. But you can call me Smitty.”

“Of course you’re Smitty. Because everybody in the military has a friend named Smitty.” The two smiled at each other. Nope, Mace didn’t like this one goddamn bit.

“So…” Dez glanced at Mace with one raised eyebrow. “Smitty, are you enjoying our fair city?”

“Oh yeah. You know, Mace is taking good care of me and my kin.”

“Kin?”

Uh-oh.

“Family.”

“Oh?” Another glance at Mace. “Your family is here. And do they get along with Mace too?”

Mace had to look at Smitty for that himself. He always sensed that most of the Pack barely tolerated him.

He should have known, though. Being Southern, Smitty would never say anything anyone would consider cruel in front of strangers.

“Oh yeah! My momma says Mace is her sixth son.”

“Really?”

“My sister’s with me too, and she loves her some Mace.”

“Does she now?” Dez turned to Mace. Boy, did she look annoyed. “You haven’t changed one bit, Llewellyn.”

He leaned back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I never said I had.”

“But you did lie to me?”

“No. Missy really doesn’t want me to come to her banquet. I simply don’t give a shit.”

“And if that happens to play on my sympathies, you conniving bastard?”

“I know what I want, Dez. You know how I am about that. Remember the Ring Dings?”

She pushed her hands through her hair. He kept frustrating her. Good. “We are not discussing the Ring Dings, Mace. Christ, we are too old for this. I’m too old for this.”

“So, say you’ll come out to dinner with me and then I’ll stop.”

“No.”

“I refuse to hear that.”

She turned to Smitty. “You tell him, Smitty. Tell him I said ‘no’.”

Smitty gazed at her. “You sure have some pretty eyes, darlin’.”

Dez looked startled, then she beamed. “You are as bad as he is.”

Mace realized in that second the two of them were having a “moment.” Well, that’s not acceptable.

“Jesus, Dez. What’s that?”

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 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.

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.”

“Well, if I waited on you two to quit pussyfootin’ around and get down to it, my grandchildren would be runnin’ the Pack.”

“I don’t need your help, Smitty. I’ve got this under control.”

“Really? Then why are you here alone?”

Mace stood up. “It’s all about timing, Smitty.”

“Yeah. Sure. Hopefully timing will keep you warm tonight, hoss.”

The two men walked out of the restaurant. “You don’t understand Dez. You can’t push her. She needs subtle, refined encouragement.”

“You forget. I watched that woman put away a steak. She ain’t subtle.”

“This is true. Excuse me.” Mace moved past three men. “But then again, I’m not really that subtle either.”

“Mason Llewellyn?”

Mace stopped and turned. He knew before he even turned around what he would find. If he hadn’t already smelled them, Smitty’s growling would have been a dead giveaway. He tolerated Mace well enough, but that was about it.

There were three of them. Large. A good ten years younger. Raw. Hoods. One didn’t meet a lot of lion hoodlums these days.

“Yeah?”

“Wow. It really is you. I told these guys it was.”

Mace watched the man closely as Smitty paced behind him. His wolf buddy did not like this one bit. Of course, he didn’t like it much himself.

“You know, you and your Pride are real well known around this city. It’s a real honor to meet you.” He held his hand out. “Patrick Doogan. These are my brothers.” Mace grasped the man’s hand with his own. Cold, gold eyes sized Mace up. Debating his strength. His power.

“So, Doogan. What can I do for you?”

He glanced at his brothers. “Smart, ain’t he? I told you he’d be smart. He knows we aren’t stopping him in the street to just say hi.”

“I know you didn’t simply find me in the street by accident either. So can we cut the bullshit?”

Doogan grinned. A true predator this one. Not a soft bone in his mammoth body. “I wanna tawk to youse sometime ’bout ya sistas.” The man’s New York street accent painfully assaulted Mace’s ears. Dez’s made him laugh and turned him on, especially when she struggled to hide it. Not Doogan’s. Mace wanted to slash the man’s vocal cords with his paw. “See if we can discuss some…uh…possible business arrangements regardin’ the Llewellyn Pride.”

Mace shrugged. “Sure. That would be great. And you have sisters that I can have…and fuck. Right?”

Doogan’s eyes narrowed, while Smitty softly chuckled next to him.

“Since that is what you want my sisters for, right? To mate with you? To breed with you? To rub your fuckin’ feet?”

“I don’t like to be fucked with, Llewellyn.”

“Then you shouldn’t bend over and hand me the lube.”

Mace couldn’t believe how angry he felt, but discussing his sisters like high-priced collateral galled him to no end. True, on any given day he detested them severely, but still…they were his sisters. His sisters. You don’t talk about a man’s sisters like you’re buying hookers for a bachelor party.

He watched, fascinated, when the façade of one cat chatting with another turned to outright hatred. Doogan hated what Mace represented. What Doogan and his equally large brothers would never be.

“I’ll have your sisters, Llewellyn, and I’ll fuck ’em all.”

“You’re underestimating the women of my family. They don’t play nice with others. They’ll rip your cock off and show it to ya. And when they do, I’m going to laugh my ass off.”

Mace turned to walk away, but Doogan’s voice stopped him cold.

“Tell me, Mason. How’s Petrov doing these days?”

Mace sighed. “You know why you’ll never have the Llewellyn Pride?” He looked back at Doogan. “Cause you have no class.”

In less than a second, Doogan was on him.

Dez pushed past the fifty or more people standing in line, waiting to get into the hottest club in the Village. She told the bouncer her name and watched him stare at her breasts for a good ninety seconds before letting her into the club.

Immediately Dez knew she didn’t belong. This was not her kind of place. An Irish cop bar. A biker bar. The local bowling alley. Those were her kinds of places. Here she felt…old. Her gun pressed into her back under her leather jacket. She was glad that the bouncer hadn’t checked her. She wouldn’t like to be here without her weapon.

Packed to capacity, the club had the rich and the connected mixing with the famous and the drug dealers. Vice would have a field day in this place.

She walked to the bar. “I’m looking for Gina Brutale.”

“Yup. In the back bar.”

She headed toward the back part of the club, pushing her way through a throng of barely dressed, overperfumed people. She’d almost made it to her destination when she caught sight of him. All gold and beautiful. Talking to a lean, dark-haired woman. Dez moved over to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Mr. Shaw?”

He turned to her, and he was as beautiful as the picture of him in the Petrov file. Only now he seemed really annoyed. And not nearly as beautiful as Mace. She laughed to herself. Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.

“Do I know you?” It would be real nice if he directed that question to her and not her breasts.

She leaned into him. She couldn’t announce to the bar she was NYPD, but the man clearly had idiotic tendencies if he insisted on being out in the middle of the night after one of his business partners had so recently been blown away.

“Mr. Shaw, I think you’d be safer back at home, don’t you? At least until we get a handle on this Petrov situation.”

“Ah, you must be one of the detectives. Must be the one Missy threw out of the house.” Shaw leaned into her and sniffed her neck. He grinned. “How is Mace tonight, anyway?”

Dez pulled away from him. What? Did the entire Llewellyn family know she had gone out with Mace? And did they all go around sniffing each other? Oh whatever.

“Mr. Shaw, I really think you should go home. Now.”

Shaw leered at her and she raised her eyebrow, daring him to give her real attitude.

“I was leaving anyway, Detective.”

“Good. Thank you. Cause I’d really hate to have to watch Forensics catalog pieces of your brain—like we did with Petrov.”

Dez headed off to the back bar. As she came around the corner she caught sight of five women. At least, she was pretty sure they were women—they were a tad butch—sitting at the bar. They looked very similar, and Dez guessed a blood connection between all of them. It was the one nursing a straight scotch and staring sadly at the floor that had her complete interest, though.

The fourth kick to his ribs sent him flipping up and over. He landed on his hands and knees. Ready to shift, but holding back until he had absolutely no choice.

He saw one of Doogan’s brothers going for the weapon he had hidden under his silk jacket and long cashmere coat. Mace didn’t wait for him to get a good grip on it. He moved, catching the man’s arm and twisting it back until it snapped. The roar of pain he let out shook the block and made people run. Doogan moved toward him because Smitty had the other brother and was definitely seconds away from snapping his neck.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Mace pulled the man in his arms back so that his body practically resembled a U.

“Don’t make me break him in half—cause I can.”

Doogan stopped. He could see both of his siblings were seconds away from meeting a rather ugly death. Who would the cops believe? Three criminal hoods from the projects or Mace Llewellyn and his out-of-town Southern friend? Two decorated officers from the Navy.

No. Doogan wasn’t stupid. Mean and evil, but not stupid. He held his hands up and backed away from Mace. Once far enough away, Mace pushed the man in his arms toward Doogan, and Smitty did the same.

Doogan took them both and backed away down the street.

“Stay away from my sisters, Doogan. Or next time I’ll make sure this ends differently.”

Doogan didn’t answer, he just left.

Smitty resheathed his claws and wiped blood off his hands. “Well that was almost as much fun as the cops pretending to be hookers.”

Mace smiled and grimaced all at the same time. His face and chest hurt.

“Shouldn’t the cops be here by now?”

Smitty’s innocent statement made Mace laugh outright.

His friend grabbed his arm and pulled him under a street lamp. “Let’s see your face, hoss.” He winced. “Yup. They did some damage.”

“Thanks.” Mace went to touch his face, but Smitty held his hand back. “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t pointed it out to me, Smitty.”

“Don’t get sassy with me, hoss.”

“Sorry. I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if Dez had still been with us.”

“That’s easy. There would have been a lot of people dead. Between the two of ya. She got that look in her eye. She’s a predator, son. And don’t think for a second she ain’t.”

“Dez would be the least of their worries.”

“My, my. We are awfully protective of a woman we haven’t seen in years.”

“Don’t start, Smitty.”

He chuckled. “You know, you look real shitty, hoss.”

“Thank you very much.” Mace moved his jaw around. At least it wasn’t broken.

“So shitty you look like you need someone to take care of you.”

Mace blinked in confusion. “Why? I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

“Someone to take care of you, Mace. Tend your wounds. Comfort you in her very large, sweet bosom.”

Mace shook his head. “No. No way, Smitty.”

“Would you trust me?”

“That’s a shitty thing to do. It’s almost catlike in its evilness.”

“See, your problem is you underestimate dogs. There’s a reason many of us are let up on the couch, while they keep y’all in a zoo.”

“This is a stupid conversation.”

“We’re stupid men. Stupid men who like their women big chested and loud.”

“You think Dez is loud?”

“Nah. Sissy’s loud. Your woman does have quite the voice, though. Like someone took a sandblaster to her vocal cords.”

“I like her voice.”

“I know dirt roads in the poorest part of Tennessee that are smoother than that girl’s voice. Although, I have to admit, I did enjoy watching her suck that finger clean.”

“It’s almost like you want me to hurt you.”

“Gina?”

Dark brown eyes that were almost black focused on her. Filled with such intense sadness, Dez hated that the woman freaked her out so much. But something about Gina Brutale set her nerves on edge.

“Yeah.” She slid off her stool. “Come on.” Gina sucked back the rest of her scotch and dropped the glass on the bar.

She glanced at the women with her. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

The women didn’t respond. Instead, they stared at Dez. Perhaps the most uncomfortable experience she’d had in a long time, and Dez’s job consisted of uncomfortable experiences. But the way they stared at her—that’s what freaked her out. Like they were silently plotting which parts of her body would sauté well in olive oil.

Gina walked away from the bar and Dez followed her, glancing back once at the women. They were still staring at her. She fought the urge to shudder.

Gina walked to an office in a deserted part of the club and went to open the door, but someone pulled it open from the other side. A woman who resembled Gina stepped out. The two women stared at each other. Actually, they really glared. Almost vicious in their intensity.

Eventually the woman’s brown eyes turned to Dez. “Who the fuck is that?”

“None of ya fuckin’ business.”

Dez rolled her eyes. This sounded like one of those typical arguments between girls in her old neighborhood. They usually degenerated into hair pulling until knives were eventually drawn.

She didn’t have time for that.

“Can this wait? I gotta life.”

Gina proceeded into the office. The other woman made to move around her but stopped and suddenly sniffed Dez instead.

Dez reared back. “Can I help you?”

She grunted. “Another one.”

Dez had no idea what that meant, but she didn’t have a chance to ask as the woman walked off.

Shaking her head, she entered the office, closing the door behind her.

“Interesting girl.”

“She’s a bitch.” Gina slid on top of a highly polished mahogany desk. “And my sister. Anne Marie.”

“My sympathies.”

She snorted. “We all have our own personal hell. She’s mine.”

Dez took in the office. Fancy, but it didn’t look very used. Lots of mahogany and glass. It didn’t look like the office of a woman.

“Whose office is this?”

“My father’s. But he doesn’t come here very often.”

Dez almost gave in to her desire to find out more about the well-known but rarely seen Gino Brutale. Instead, she forced herself to remember she was in this club for a reason. Not to see if she could find out more about Brutale’s mob ties.

“So…you wanted to talk to me about Alexander Petrov’s death?”

“Yeah. Ya see, he was…”

The woman struggled with her admission, but Dez didn’t know why. “He was…” she coaxed.

Brutale stood tall, suddenly proud. “He was with me. He was my lover.”

Dez didn’t understand why Gina needed to fear admitting that information. Brutale was no youngster. She appeared to be in her early to midthirties. And it wasn’t like Petrov ran some rival mob family, unless Missy was up to more than she realized. Which Dez seriously doubted.

Dez waited for Gina to continue.

“I saw him the night he died. When he left me that night, he was very much alive. I don’t know if anyone followed him. I do know Missy Llewellyn would lose her friggin’ mind if she knew about us.”

Dez stepped forward. “And did she know?”

“I don’t know. But he was going to leave her and stay with me. I don’t know if he ever got around to telling her that, though.”

“Petrov and Missy Llewellyn were…together? A couple?” Maybe, but who would put up with that heartless bitch?

“It’s too complicated to explain. But, basically, she owned him.”

What the hell does that mean?

“What do you mean she owned him? She had something on him?”

“No. But he belonged to her. She wouldn’t take him leaving well. Especially if he were leaving her for me.”

“Why you? What connection do you have with the Llewellyns?” A Jersey girl like Brutale wouldn’t exactly be welcome at a Llewellyn banquet, and they both knew it.

“Our families have…a history, you might say. We’ve hated each other for a long time.”

“Do you think Missy killed him?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. Shootin’ him in the back of the head, though, doesn’t really seem Missy’s style, ya know?”

Dez shrugged. “I couldn’t tell ya.”

“All I’m sayin’ is, you need to look at Missy Llewellyn for this. Look at her close. She shouldn’t be able to get away with this. Just cause he loved me and not her.”

“Yeah. But are you sure he loved you?”

Brutale locked her beady dark eyes on Dez’s face. “What?”

“Maybe you want me to focus on Missy because you want her to suffer more. Maybe Petrov wouldn’t leave her. Maybe he didn’t love you at all. So you got rid of him yourself.” Dez didn’t really believe that, but she wanted to see Brutale’s reaction.

She wasn’t disappointed. She blinked and suddenly Gina Brutale stood right in front of her. Their bodies almost touching. Rage and sorrow came off Brutale in waves, practically knocking Dez out of the room.

“I loved him. He loved me. Anybody tell you different, they’re lyin’. We had plans, him and me. Plans to run this family together.”

“Maybe your father wasn’t okay with that.”

“My father will do what I tell him to do. The women run this family. Not the men.”

Well, that was new. “Okay.”

Brutale glared at her for a long minute. Then she took one step back. Then another. Eventually a good five feet separated the women. But Dez still didn’t feel safe. She wouldn’t feel that way until she got the hell out of the building.

“But I will say this, Detective—whoever killed him better pray to the Mother Mary you get to them first. They better pray I never fuckin’ find out. Cause I’ll kill ’em myself. And I’ll make sure they suffer for what they done.”

Dez didn’t doubt Gina’s words for even a second. She wanted out of this building. She wasn’t even supposed to be on this case. Suddenly, nailing Missy took a backseat to her basic survival.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You do that.”

Dez backed up from Brutale. She didn’t feel comfortable turning her back on the woman. She grabbed hold of the doorknob, opened the door, and eased out into the club.

She cut through the enormous place, including the back bar where she found Brutale. She had to pass the same pack of women, only this time Brutale’s sister was with them. As she moved past them, the lightest touch nipped her neck.

Reaching back, Dez grabbed the hand touching her and twisted until Anne Marie Brutale lay on the floor at her feet, howling in pain. Dez planted her foot in the woman’s side and twisted her arm again. This time even farther away from her body. A few more inches and she’d break the bone at the shoulder.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ touch me again.” The grip she had on the woman she learned from the Marine Corps. The statement—that was all Bronx.

Gina Brutale walked in. She stared dispassionately at her sister. It had to be the coldest look Dez had ever seen. As much as she detested her own sisters sometimes, Dez would never let anyone else hurt them. Not ever.

“I really hope I made myself clear.” She twisted Anne Marie’s arm a bit more for emphasis, pulling another brutal howl from her throat. The sound sent a nasty shiver up her spine. These people just weren’t right.

Yeah. Dez wanted out of here.

She glanced around at the women watching her. None of them seemed very interested. She glanced down at Anne Marie. She had big, long nails. The kind her sisters never let Dez get because they said they were “beyond tacky.” She glared at those nails, suddenly very concerned with them, but she didn’t know what the woman’s tacky fashion sense had to do with anything.

Dez finally released Anne Marie and backed away from the women. When far enough away, she spun on her heel and headed toward the front exit and home.

Mace crouched on the hard ground, his back against the passenger side of Dez’s SUV, and impatiently waited. He didn’t like to wait.

Of course, the knowledge that he would be going to hell for this, misleading a beautiful woman he was crazy about, didn’t make the waiting any easier. At least, however, he would go to hell with a smile.

Mace wiped the last bit of blood dripping from his nose. Even with the blood in his nose, he could still smell Christmas in the air. He didn’t know how all the scents he could detect reminded him of this particular holiday, but they did. He loved those smells. Actually, he loved the holiday, he’d just never been able to truly enjoy it. Even the times he’d gone with Smitty to his mother’s in Tennessee. True enough, she always went out of her way to make Mace feel like part of the Smith family, even part of their Pack, but Mace never forgot he didn’t belong. Of course, he didn’t belong with his own Pride either. Instead, he’d have to make his own family. His and his alone. And every fiber of his being told him Dez was the one. She would be the one to make every Christmas special for him. Of course, she did seem to detest the holiday, but no one ever said Dez wasn’t difficult.

He spotted her immediately as she came around the corner. When she caught sight of him, she slowed down. She probably couldn’t make him out at first. Mace put on his most wounded expression and continued to wait. He didn’t make any sudden moves. He had no doubt Dez would shoot him on sight if she deemed it necessary.

Dez slowly moved closer until she could see him clearly. Then she rushed to his side.

“Jesus, Mace.” She knelt down next to him. “Oh honey.” Her soft hands slid across his face. “Who did this to you?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.” He looked up at her and blinked, startled by what he saw. Sweat drenched her face and neck, which wouldn’t seem odd—if this were the middle of summer. But it was December twenty-second, and definitely nippy out.

“Dez?”

“What, baby?”

“Are you okay?”

“Sure.” Dez swallowed, closed her eyes, and fell face-first into his lap. He stared down at her. Dammit. How many dreams and fantasies had filled his head over the years with Dez MacDermot in this very position? Only then, he expected her fully conscious.

Mace carefully cradled Dez in his arms. “Dez, baby. Can you hear me?”

She didn’t answer him. He wondered if someone had slipped a drug in her drink. He sniffed her. She smelled of hyena.

“What the hell have you been up to, beautiful?”

Why would Dez be hanging out with hyenas? He examined her body and after several long minutes found the tiniest scratch on the back of her neck. He sniffed the area and smelled the poison.

Tricky, fucking hyenas. They hadn’t given her enough to kill her. That would have been too obvious, and she would have never made it out of the club on her own steam. No, they gave her enough so she would make it outside, maybe even to a cab, and then she’d pass out. Leaving her to the tender mercies of the New York streets. Or perhaps she’d pass out at the wheel of her car.

Mace wanted to roar his displeasure and start tearing some hyenas apart, but Dez was his main concern right now. He turned her head and brushed her beautiful hair away from the scratch. He licked the wound and spit. He did it six times until he removed all the poison.

“Okay, baby. Let’s get you home.” She didn’t carry a purse; instead she had a slim leather wallet shoved into the front of her black jeans. He pulled it out and quickly glanced at her driver’s license. He grimaced. Brooklyn. Christ, the woman lived in Brooklyn.

“Sure, you couldn’t live uptown, could ya?” Mace stood up, Dez in his arms. Without much effort, he got her keys and got the woman safely bundled into her SUV. He sat on the driver’s side and started the vehicle up. He glanced at her, a rumbling sigh coming from his chest. His beautiful Dez. He rubbed her cheek with the back of his hand.

“Let’s get you home, gorgeous.”

Chapter Five

Mace walked up Dez’s porch with her in his arms. Without putting her down, he unlocked the door and walked into the dark house. His cat eyes could see her furniture clearly, but he went ahead and flipped on the light switch. He froze in shock.

How could he not? The woman’s living room was a fucking winter wonderland. She had a fully decked-out Christmas tree with tinsel. Lights strung everywhere that were connected to the main outlet, so when he turned on the overhead lights all the Christmas lights came on too. She had stockings attached to her mantel. Three. One for her and two for…? Sig and Sauer? He didn’t want to know and he wasn’t going to ask.

He smiled. As much as Dez bitched about the holidays, she clearly loved it as well. No one put in this much effort for something they hated when they lived alone.

Mace took Dez to her sectional couch. He liked this couch. Big and roomy. He wanted to fuck her on it.

He laid her down and checked her wound again. He’d cleaned out the poison, but he didn’t want the area to get infected. He took off his jacket, tossing it across the floor. Then slipped Dez’s jacket off her body. He had to pull her shirt away from her wound and realized that would eventually get in his way. With a shrug, he pulled her shirt off completely. Once again, he froze.

A lacey red bra covered those beautiful breasts. The red color contrasted wonderfully with her brown skin. He could nuzzle between those breasts until the end of time, if she’d let him. Mace took a deep breath. This wasn’t helping anything. He shook off his lust and went back to work.

Dez opened her eyes and glanced around the room. Home. Somehow, she managed to get home. The problem? She couldn’t remember anything past stumbling out of the club. She looked down and realized her father’s old New York Jets blanket covered her body. She still had on clothes, except for her shoes and her shirt.

And someone had turned on Nat King Cole.

She lay there and glared up at the ceiling. What the fuck is going on?

Mace had his cell phone next to his ear, his shoulder the only thing holding it up while he went through Dez’s kitchen.

“The woman has nothing. I mean, I’ve eaten all her chips and her crackers and she seems to have an unhealthy love of beef jerky. But other than that—the woman has nothing.”

“Now see. That’s why you should get yourself a nice Southern gal. They always make sure everybody’s fed and comfortable.”

“Really? So…what’s your sister doin’ tonight?”

Smitty growled. “That ain’t funny, cat.”

Mace chuckled. “Actually, yes it is.” Mace opened the refrigerator. “Well, she likes beer.” He grabbed a pizza box, opened it, shut it in disgust, and put it back into her refrigerator. “Clearly food purchasing will be my responsibility.”

“Uh…tell me, Mace. Have you actually let her in on the fact she’s yours now?”

“No. But I will. She’ll simply have to deal with it.”

Smitty sighed. “So says the King of the Jungle.”

“By these fangs I rule.” Mace glanced around her kitchen again. His eyes caught sight of a bag and he frowned. “Smitty?”

“Yeah?”

“She has dog food.”

A long pause followed his statement. “How much?”

Mace walked over to it and examined it closely. “It’s a twenty-five-pound bag.”

Another long pause. “Is there only one?”

Mace opened up a door leading to a pantry. There were a few things on the shelves. A few human things. But on the floor…

“Um…she has ten bags of twenty-five pounds of high-priced dog food. You know, the special kind you get from a vet.”

Another long pause, then Smitty began to laugh hysterically. “Hey, ya’ll. Hey!” he barked to his Pack. “Mace is in love with a dog person!”

Mace gritted his teeth as howls of laughter assaulted him. A truly humiliating moment.

“Are you done?”

“Sorry. Sorry. It’s just fun to see how the mighty cats have fallen.”

Mace rolled his eyes. “Well, I’ve been here two hours and I haven’t seen hide nor hair of any dog.”

“Didn’t you smell ’em when you got there?”

“I’m wearing your jacket. So I thought that was you. You guys all smell alike.”

Smitty growled again. “I do not smell like a dog.”

Mace smiled. Nothing pissed off a wolf more than comparing him to a dog. Smitty didn’t speak to him for three months when he found Mace drunkenly talking to a German Shepherd about Mother Smith’s Tennessee mud pie.

“They’re probably hidin’,” Smitty offered.

“Hiding from what?”

“You, dumb ass. And what you wanna bet wherever they are, they’ve pissed themselves. Your little girlfriend won’t be happy when she has to clean up the stains tomorrow.”

“You really are enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Oh yeah.”

Mace hung up the phone and went in search of Dez’s stupid dogs.

Mace crouched down and looked under the couch. “Here, stupid, stupid dogs,” he whispered softly in a singsong voice. “Come here, you little fuckers.”

He wasn’t sure when he knew Dez was watching him, but he knew. He raised his head and found her staring at him over the arm of her couch.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Where’s my shirt?”

He glanced at a large leather chair across the room. “Over there.”

“And why am I not wearing it?” When a woman spits that sentence out at you between her teeth, you can feel pretty assured she’s good and pissed.

“I can explain everything.”

“You better.”

Mace stood up and walked around the couch to sit beside her. She pulled herself into a sitting position, her hand holding the green and white Jets blanket up to her chin. He did notice she had securely fastened back on her jeans the holstered .9mm he placed on the coffee table. She couldn’t find her shirt, but she sure as hell found her gun.

“How do you feel?”

“Okay, I guess. A little shaky maybe. What happened?”

“You were drugged.” Saying the word poison would freak her out. And he had no desire to explain the lifelong battle between lions and hyenas at this moment. “But you should be okay now.”

She looked at him as if seeing his bruises for the first time. Her hand reached up and touched his cheek. “Oh honey. What happened to your face?”

Mace gazed at her lips and moved in slowly. Not wanting to startle her, but determined to taste those lush lips. But before he could reach heaven, her head snapped around. “Where are my dogs?”

“What?”

“My dogs.” Her soft hand on his cheek suddenly grabbed a hunk of his hair and pulled.

“Ow!”

“They should have ripped you apart and left you for dead on my porch by now. Where are they?”

With a dramatic sigh, “I don’t know.”

Dez got to her feet, a Packlike growl rolling from her lips. “If anything happened to my boys—”

“What exactly are you accusing me of? Harming two smelly beasts that would happily run out in the middle of moving traffic?”

Dez threw down the blanket and began to search the room. Mace had to focus hard on her face so he didn’t focus on the rest of that luscious body. Her body did things to him. Strong, almost painful things.

He shook his head. Stop it, Llewellyn. You’re wasting your time. The woman didn’t even notice him in the room.

Who was she kidding? Her dogs were somewhere. But waking up and finding one gorgeous hunk of man-meat crawling on her floor had stirred things in her she never thought existed. Things she wasn’t sure she could actually admit to. It didn’t help that seeing his face all bruised up almost shoved her right over the edge of “Stupid Things People Do,” like letting him kiss her—again.

So finding her dogs seemed the quickest and simplest thing to do, given the circumstances.

Although she was starting to worry a bit. Her dogs should have greeted them at the door. They should have definitely gone for Mace’s throat by now. He didn’t seem like much of a dog person, but she couldn’t see Mace doing anything to her “boys.” So where the hell where they?

“You check under the bed?”

Dez practically snarled at the man who had quickly become the star of any and every fantasy she would ever have. He leaned back into her couch, his arms out over the back of the sofa. His incredibly long and muscular legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. My, he certainly has made himself at home.

“My dogs don’t hide under beds, Llewellyn.”

“But did you check?”

“Did you see me go upstairs?” At his raised eyebrow, she snapped, “Fine. I’ll check.” She headed up the stairs to her bedroom. Her house wasn’t big by any stretch of the imagination, but it had a backyard for her dogs, a second floor, and a huge dining room and gourmet kitchen she rarely used. Most important, though, it was her mortgage. Her place. So it didn’t matter how big or small it was.

“Sig! Sauer! Where are you guys?”

“You named your dogs after a gun?” Dez jumped and spun around. Mace had moved up behind her and she hadn’t even heard him. “Holy shit! The Christmas stockings were for them?”

She would not be having that conversation. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Besides being freaked out by your Christmas decorations—helping you find your dogs. The dogs you named after a weapon.”

“They’re cop-owned dogs. What did you expect me to name them? Fluffy and Poopsie-head?”

Dez walked into her bedroom. She could feel Mace behind her. Feel the warmth of his body. She could smell the man. And he smelled really good.

She mentally shook herself. Snap out of it, MacDermot. She crouched down by her bed and looked under it. And, to her utter disbelief, she found her two dogs. Cowering.

She reached for Sig. “Come here, baby.”

Mace crouched down next to her and that’s when Sig gingerly gripped her wrist in his maw and dragged her under the bed. He didn’t hurt her. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the dog simply wanted to protect her.

“What in the hell?”

“You okay?” Mace held on to her ankle and she suddenly felt like a wishbone.

She pulled her arm away from Sig and slid back out from under the bed. Mace grabbed her hand and helped her to her feet. She snatched her hand away. She had to. His touch made her uncomfortably warm.

“What did you do to my dogs?” She had no idea where that came from, but she couldn’t shake the feeling they were hiding from Mace.

“Me? What makes you think I did anything?”

“Sig once took down a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound professional football player because he got a little too close to me in the park. And Sauer took on three, out-of-control pit bulls to protect me. These are not dogs that hide under the bed. And then you come to my house…”

Mace didn’t say anything, he simply watched her.

Dez sat down at the foot of the bed. She ran her hands through her hair. Someone obviously drugged me. Why else would she sit on her bed, hardly worried about the unsightly rolls it would cause in her less-than-taut stomach, wearing her favorite lace Christmas bra and jeans, in front of the one man she’d happily wrap herself around like a boa constrictor? Meanwhile, her vicious, well-trained dogs cowered under her bed. Something was going on and she wanted to know what. And she wanted to know what right-goddamn-now.

“My dogs are hiding from you, Llewellyn. And I wanna know why. Or you can get the fuck outta my house.” Christ, less than twenty-four hours around Mace and Bronx Dez came roaring back. But her intense anger kept her from feeling ashamed.

Mace watched her from under a mass of hair practically covering his eyes. Hair that had not been there the day before.

What in the hell is going on?

Damn dogs ruin everything. Typical. If he told her anything but the absolute truth, Dez and her detective mind would see through it in two seconds. That would be it for him too. For them. Dez needed to trust her partners, Mace knew that just from the few precious hours he’d spent in the woman’s company. He couldn’t lie to her. Not if he ever wanted her screaming his name while she came.

So, throwing centuries of Druid tradition and secrecy out the window, he faced Detective Desiree MacDermot head-on and told her the truth.

“I’m a shapeshifter. Specifically lion. My Pride is descended from Welsh Druids. Your dogs sense that and that’s why they’re hiding under the bed. That and they’re big pussies.”

She stared at him. He could almost read her thoughts. She was thinking, I have a nut in my house. How do I get the nut out of my house? He was expecting her to start inching toward the door any second. Or pull her gun and shoot him between the eyes.

But she didn’t. Instead, Dez crossed her arms in front of those beautiful red lace–covered tits. “Prove it.”

Mace gaped at her. “What?”

“Is this a full moon kind of thing?”

He stifled his roar. Insulting little bitch. “I’m not a werewolf.”

“Then prove it. Right here. Right now.”

“You want me to prove it?”

“Right here. Right now.”

Mace smiled. “If that’s what you want…”

Yup. Leave it to Dez to find the one rich nut in New York City who wasn’t afraid to drive out to Brooklyn. The one rich nut who thought he was a—what was it?—shapeshifter? Oiy.

Of course, Dez didn’t grab the phone, lock herself in the bathroom, and call 911. No, she challenged the nut to “prove it.”

Sure. Why not? Besides, she was wearing her gun and she had a lovely shotgun in her closet. Plus, it wasn’t like she hadn’t dealt with nuts before.

Still her dogs’ whimpering, heard clearly even though they were still under her bed, gave her the first clue something really wasn’t right. Mace’s eyes started to look different too. Becoming glassy and reflective. And his scent became stronger. Filling the room, swirling around her.

Dez uncrossed her arms and let them hang loose by her side as she watched Mace carefully. She blinked several times, her brain unwilling or unable to process what she thought she was seeing. Jesus Christ, were those fangs!?

She stopped breathing when the hair on his head spread across his entire body. The gold locks burst into a full-on mane while spreading across his back. The brown hair that tumbled from under the gold covered his chest like a thick winter sweater. Then his limbs altered so he went on all fours.

The whole process took all of forty-five seconds, but it seemed like years. And with a shake of his body, Mace’s unnecessary clothes flew across the room.

With those gold eyes she’d recognize anywhere staring straight at her, he shook out his mane and roared.

Her dogs bolted from under the bed and out the bedroom door. Dez wasn’t sure she’d ever see them again.

She analyzed the situation quickly. Her .9mm probably wouldn’t do any good. Nope. Not with this one. She needed the shotgun.

Dez shot off the bed and made it to the closet in record time, but before she even had her hand on the doorknob he slammed her up against the hard wood. The body against her, though, wasn’t lion, but human. And all male if the erection pushing into her back was any indication.

“Breathe, Dez. Just breathe.”

Breathe? How was she supposed to breathe? She leaned her head against the door and wondered why she couldn’t pass out like any other normal woman. She shouldn’t be strong. She should be weak and frail. By the time she woke up, he’d have eaten her legs off and she could die from loss of blood. Anything had to be better than dealing with the reality of this situation.

“I don’t think you’re breathing.”

“Get off me, Mace. Now.” Amazing. She sounded completely calm and rational. She tried to push away from the door, but that big, hard body refused to budge one inch. His hands held her hands flat against the wood so she couldn’t go for her weapon. His naked flesh practically seared her exposed skin with its heat.

“You said you wanted me to prove it,” that low voice purred in her ear. “And that’s what I did, Dez.”

He was right, of course. The fuck. Although he didn’t have to sound so haughty about it. But who knew the world actually had people who could shift into something other than human? She happily went through life thinking people who believed in vampires, werewolves, and witches were nutcases. As a cop, she believed what she could see and it always had a plausible explanation.

Of course, a lot more things made sense now. All those weird “quirky” things that Mace always used to do so clearly spoke of…well…an animal. Smelling the back of her neck. The growling. The purring. That time he actually bared his fangs at a sophomore who tried to take his grilled cheese sandwich in the cafeteria.

Yet none of that made any of this easier. Especially not with her body being pinned by a guy who three minutes ago had shifted himself into the king of the jungle. A guy who scared her one-hundred-and-fifty pound Rottweiler dogs to death.

A guy kissing her neck.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” He asked just before his tongue swirled around that spot where her neck and her spine met. Her knees almost buckled, but she stopped by reminding herself that the guy wasn’t human.

Her fingers dug into the wood. “Is this really the time for you to get horny?”

“Sorry, shifting does that to me. Shifting and you.”

No, no, no! He wasn’t going to get away with being charming now. “Mace—”

He cut her off. “I’ve wanted you since Mr. Shotsky’s biology class.”

Unbelievable. A naked freak has her slammed up against her own closet door so she can’t get to her gun, but some trite bullshit about ninth grade had her creaming like a porn star. Exactly what was wrong with her? And could she pass it on to any children she may have?

Mace’s hips pushed up against her, and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning. “Christ, Dez. I wanna fuck you so bad, my whole body hurts.”

Okay. She had two choices here. She could tell Mace what he wanted to hear. Get free and splatter pieces of him all over her nice wood bedroom furniture. As a human she could probably use her .9mm on him.

Or…she could be honest with the big idiot.

“Mace…” She took a deep breath. “If you let me go now, I’m going to blow your brains out.”

Mace didn’t move. He barely breathed. This was the moment. This. Right now. If Dez really wanted him dead, she would have lied her ass off to get away from him and…well…blown his brains out. Instead, she warned him. Warned him that if he let her go, she’d kill him.

Okay. The woman had completely confused him. And how he handled it from here would decide everything for them.

“That’s kind of a problem, baby. Me being partial to breathing and all.” He nuzzled her neck and her heart started beating faster, but he didn’t smell fear. He took that as a good sign and decided to barrel forward—slowly.

“Why don’t we do this…” He slid one arm down her body, feeling the soft skin under his fingers. “Let’s get rid of all this unnecessary paraphernalia. Make it easier for us to have a civilized discussion.” He grasped Dez’s holster with her .9mm in it, pulling it off her jeans and with practiced aim tossed it to her dresser across the room. It landed with a rather loud thunk, and Dez’s body jumped next to his. But he still didn’t smell fear. He smelled something else altogether.

Lust.

He lightly kissed the tip of her ear. “Any other weapons, Dez?”

Her forehead resting on the door, she muttered, “You don’t expect me to answer that honestly, do you?”

He leered. “I guess I’ll have to check then.”

“Guess so.”

Mace slowly dragged his hands down Dez’s arms. He used every ounce of his self-control to not rip her jeans off and start fucking her from behind. A sudden move like that could blow it all. Dez trusted him. Trusting him even though she knew he wasn’t human. Not completely. That meant more than he could ever say, and he wasn’t about to ruin it by being…ya know…a guy.

Dez closed her eyes as his hands slid down her body, across her breasts, lingering for a moment at her nipples, which caused her entire body to convulse. Damn sensitive nipples. Every time her ex had touched them, she practically ripped his throat out. That wasn’t the response she had with Mace, though. She wanted him more than she ever had before. And she’d wanted him a lot before. Yet knowing he was only partially human had changed everything for her. She dealt with humans every day. Every day she found herself disgusted and appalled by their bullshit. Trusting human-Mace seemed like a stupid idea to her. She didn’t trust, understand, or really even like humans. She knew what they could do. The damage they could cause.

Animals, though, were all about survival. Mating, hunting, feeding—simply keeping their species alive. They didn’t hurt each other out of spite. They didn’t humiliate others to make themselves feel better. When they hunt and kill it is only for food, and they never do anything morally reprehensible to the corpse afterward. Dez understood animals. She always had. Now she understood Mace, and that made all the difference in the world for her. He was the first man she could ever truly trust.

Although that particular thought made her want to pass out.

“You stopped breathing again, Dez.” She let out the breath she had been holding. “Good, baby. Keep doing that and you’ll be fine.”

His hands slid around her waist and he crouched low, bringing them down the outside of her legs. He found her secondary weapon in an ankle holster and a small blade strapped to the other ankle. He took those and tossed them on the dresser.

He returned to his crouch behind her. “Spread your legs,” he ordered. She caught that moan before it could pour out of her mouth along with the potential begging that might follow. Silently, she complied.

Mace slowly dragged his hands up between her legs, his right hand sliding between her thighs and pushing against her crotch. Her whole body jerked like someone attached a live wire to her. She knew she was wet. Now he knew it, too, if that very primal grunt of satisfaction rumbling up from his chest proved anything.

He rubbed his hand against her crotch, and Dez dug her short nails into the closet door. “Anything else I need to be on the lookout for, Dez?”

She didn’t answer him. Instead, she shook her head.

“What’s the matter?” And she could hear the smile in his voice. “Cat got your crotch?”

By far, one of the stupidest things anyone had ever said to her, and in response, she burst out laughing.

He turned her to face him, and she looked down into that gorgeous face.

“It’s going to be okay, ya know. I promise.”

His body, still crouched in front of her, seemed more naked than most. Not that she’d never seen a naked man before. Hell, she arrested a lot of naked males over the years. But none of them, even the best-built Marines, had ever been like this. Something so raw and male exuded from Mace, the thought of not fucking him was becoming an impossibility.

“Now, if you’re not going to tell me if there are other weapons, I guess we’ll have to get the rest of these clothes off you.” He grinned. A wicked, evil grin that almost dropped her to the floor. “Just so we can get a closer inspection, of course.”

He unzipped her jeans, pulling them down her hips and legs until they puddled onto the floor. He tossed the jeans aside while he pulled his body out of its crouch and kneeled in front of her. He slid his hands back up her legs as he kissed the exposed flesh above her red lace panties. His hands slid under the lace to grip her ass, his tongue swirling right under her belly button.

Dez bit her lip. “At this point, Mace, I’m not exactly sure what you’re searching for.”

Gold eyes, so dark with lust they seemed black, focused on her face. “Do you really care?”

She blinked. “Care about what?”

“You’re not paying attention, Desiree.” He nipped the sensitive flesh of her lower abdomen. “I guess I’ll have to work a little harder to make sure you don’t lose interest.”

Mace slid her panties off, and Dez wondered what the hell was going on. What the hell was she doing? And what exactly was Mace doing with his finger?

“Mace!”

He stopped, clearly annoyed. Although his forefinger seemed damn happy to have slid past her clit and buried itself deep inside her pussy. “What now?”

“Maybe we should—” before the word wait could come out, Mace started slowly finger-fucking her. Dez’s back arched off the closet door. Tricky fuckin’ cat!

Dez dug deep lines in the wood of her poor door. It had been so long since she’d been with anyone. So long since she had a man touch her in any way but friendship or while trying to outrun her after doing something illegal. She didn’t want to blow this, but to be honest she had no freakin’ idea what the hell she’d gotten herself into. Add in the fact Mace’s cock was freakin’ huge and you have a recipe for a Dez disaster.

Mace’s free hand slid around her waist, pulling her close to him. He kissed and nipped her stomach and hips. “Touch me, Dez. I need to feel your hands on me.”

Why did that surprise her? Maybe because Mace never seemed like he ever needed anything or anyone. “I thought cats didn’t like to be touched, Llewellyn.”

He licked her belly button. “Damn dog people. That’s propaganda.” He rubbed his face across her belly and thighs, his unshaven cheeks and jaw feeling rough against her skin. “We need affection, Dez. We just don’t beg for it.”

Dez grinned as she slid her hands into his hair. She now understood why Mace’s hair was always out of control in high school. Because it had been growing into a mane. A real, honest-to-God lion’s mane.

She closed her eyes and plunged forward. “I need you to kiss me, Mace.”

Mace stopped moving. Even his fingers paused in their slow, steady movements.

“I loved the way you kissed me today.” She looked down at him, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He watched her silently, and Dez realized how much she wanted all this. How much she wanted him. “Do you know I would have given anything for you to kiss me like that in high school? I would have given anything for you to even try.”

Mace’s gold eyes locked with hers. He slid his finger out of her and, as he slowly stood, he slipped it in his mouth, sucking it clean. Dez groaned as his exquisite body towered over her. He took her hands, their fingers interlacing. Palms against palms. Then he slammed them against the door, his body once again pinning her to the hard wood.

“I wish I’d known you’d felt that way, Dez.” His mouth barely touched hers, and Dez briefly wondered if her lungs stopped working. “Because I’ve felt like that since the second I saw you. And I’ve never stopped.” Then his mouth was on hers, and this time she couldn’t stop the moan or the shudder that went through her entire body. Nothing had ever felt so good. Or tasted so good. Damn, but the man tasted so goddamn good.

He released her lips, burning a delicious line down her neck with his tongue and back up again. Eventually he stopped by her ear. “So, baby, anything else I need to get out of the way before I get down to the business of making you come so hard you’ll think you’re dying?”

Dez scowled. “Exactly how the hell am I supposed to even answer that, Mace?”

“That’s easy. Just say, ‘Please fuck me, master.’”

Dez laughed again. Good. When she laughed, she wasn’t freaking out. He found that humor was the best way to deal with Dez. If he got too intense she would make a run for the door.

“What, exactly, is wrong with ‘Fuck me, master’?” He slid his hands behind her back and unhooked her bra. When he slipped it off her body, he made sure that his hands touched her skin the entire time. Not only did he love the feel of her, but the more he touched her, the more aroused she became.

“You want a list, Llewellyn?”

He became thoughtful, truly wondering what the answer to his next question would be. “Do you trust me, Dez?”

He dropped her bra to the floor as Dez closed her eyes and, for a moment, Mace thought she might be in pain or trying to remember all the exits out of the room. Then he heard it. A soft whisper. Almost a sigh.

“Yeah, Mace. I trust you.”

That was definitely the answer he had been hoping for, he just never expected to get it.

“Of course,” she continued, “I’ve been told on occasion that I’m an idiot.”

Mace slid his hand behind the back of her neck, pulling her toward him. “Since that still works in my favor, I’m okay with that.”

He kissed her again, allowing himself the chance to explore her mouth. Enjoy her taste.

She trusted him. He wanted to roar it from the roof. Because to Mace that meant Dez MacDermot was all his.

Why did she suddenly feel like the weakest gazelle of the herd? With Mace kissing her, claiming her again. And she had a feeling this would only be the beginning. Whether she meant to or not, she’d given him what he wanted. Not sex because, let’s face it, he could have had that anytime in the last eight hours. No, she’d given him what she hadn’t given any other man besides her father. She’d given him her trust. The fact that this revelation seemed to move him to a new level of passion warmed her. Made her feel like the most important person in the universe.

But Mace always made her feel that way. That too-smart-for-his-own-good, scrawny kid acted like she was the queen of his universe then. She didn’t realize until she’d gone to a new school, she used that feeling as her life raft. When things got too harsh at the Cathedral School, she knew she only had to go to two o’clock biology class. One look at Mace’s funny, but so cute, little face would lift her day and make her feel like she could handle the hell until she escaped for good.

Of course, that little kid no longer existed. In his place was this man making her tremble simply by kissing her. His kisses, like his smiles, held such promise.

He stepped away from her and walked to the bed, gently pulling her along with him. He positioned her beside it, then kneeled down. He tugged her hand until she followed, kneeling in front of him. She had no idea where this was going, but he had her intrigued.

Mace kissed her neck, licking that sensitive spot right under her ear. Her breathing grew labored as he took both her arms and gently pinned them behind her back with his own. With that one move, her back arched and he lowered his head to capture a nipple between his lips. She jumped. Practically out of her skin.

“Hold it.” He paused, his gold eyes watching her closely. She cleared her throat. “My nipples are really sensitive.”

“Am I hurting you?” he asked around her nipple.

“No. No. Not at all. It’s just—” She stopped. She saw the wicked intent in his eyes. The lust that said he wanted her screaming and coming until he was satisfied she’d had enough. “Jesus Christ, that’s what you want.”

He grinned.

She tried to pull her arms away. “Mace Llewellyn, you let me go!”

“Really, baby? You sure that’s what you want?” He sucked on her nipple and her back arched again, practically throwing him off. She gasped, her head resting on the bed behind her. He put her in a position where she wouldn’t be uncomfortable but where he had complete control.

Tricky son of a bitch cat!

“Mace…” She growled it. Her warning growl. But he only laughed.

“When you’re ready to beg for my cock, baby, you let me know.”

“Beg? I don’t beg.”

“Good.” He released her breast long enough to grin at her. “Then when you do, you’ll really mean it.”

His mouth returned to her breast and she couldn’t speak. It felt too wonderful. Too extraordinary. Too everything.

He only focused on her breasts. He teased. He licked. He sucked. He did practically everything but marry one. It didn’t take long before her climax started sneaking up on her. That never happened before. She usually always needed to have a finger, tongue, or dick involved with her clit to even have the hope of getting off.

But as she sped within seconds of climaxing the bastard stopped. He pulled away and blew on her nipple or nuzzled her breasts. He did it over and over again. Constantly bringing her to the brink of an orgasm guaranteed to permanently blind her and then backing off. He kept it up for so long she was close to crying. Her entire body hummed like a tuning fork. Her hips wouldn’t stop rubbing against him. Eventually, she told her ego to fuck off.

“God, Mace. Please.”

“Please what, baby?”

“You know what, you asshole.”

“Is that your idea of begging? Because it’s sorely lacking.” She glared at him as she tried to get her arms loose so she could strangle the fucker.

He licked both her nipples again, and she thought she might really start crying.

“Any condoms?” he finally asked.

Oh thank God! “Top drawer of my nightstand. By the Luger.”

“My, you’re awfully prepared. Expecting someone else, were we?”

“Mace Llewellyn.” She really hoped he could hear the warning in her voice, because she was very close to losing it.

“You know, I can wait all day. So if you want to be bitchy…”

He lowered his mouth to her nipple and she bucked under him. “Okay. Okay,” she sputtered desperately. “I got it as a gag gift from some of the other female detectives. For my birthday.”

“Aw, baby. Did I miss your birthday?”

“Mace!”

“Okay. Okay.” He laughed as he kept her arms locked behind her with one of his big hands while he reached over and dug into her nightstand drawer. “Christ, you have more guns,” he muttered. He pulled out the box. “Whew. That’s good. They’re extra large.”

“Mason.”

He grinned like the evil cat he was, ripped open the box, and took out a condom. With amazing skill, he rolled it on his dick with one hand.

He grabbed Dez around the waist and tossed her up on the bed. By the time she landed Mace had already crawled up her body. He rubbed and licked his way along her legs, stopping to nuzzle her crotch and give a quick lick to her clit, which almost sent her over the edge—but not quite. He dragged his big body over her until they were face to face. He stared down at her and, for a minute, she thought he wanted more begging. But his hand reached up and cupped one side of her face. “You are so beautiful, Dez.”

Dez looped her arms around his neck and opened her legs wider so Mace could fit comfortably between them. “That’s really sweet and all but can that fuckin’ wait ’til later?”

Mace chuckled. “Damn, Dez.”

Growling low she rubbed her head against his chin. He’d done it to her a few times—she wondered if it would work on him as well. When she heard him purring, she knew it had.

With one quick, hard thrust, he slammed into her and she had never been so happy to have a dick inside of her before. She worried about his size, but she was already so wet, so fucking worked up, that she was thankful. His big cock filled her up and took her right to the edge. But Mace left her hanging there because he wouldn’t fuckin’ move.

She peeked up at him. His eyes closed, his face frowning in deep concentration, his sweat dripping onto her skin. She briefly wondered if she did something wrong. If she screwed something up. The one thing she really didn’t want to screw up.

“Jesus Christ, Dez. You are so fuckin’ tight.”

She smiled. She couldn’t help herself. She hadn’t screwed anything up. She was actually doing damn well for herself. “So hot and tight. I’m going to lose my mind being inside you.”

Dez leaned up, her mouth beside his ear. “Mace Llewellyn, you make me wait one more goddamn second and I really will start shooting.” She brushed his cheek with her forehead and he brushed her back. “Fuck me, Mace. Please. Just fuck me—”

She didn’t get a chance to say another word as his mouth slammed down on hers and he began fucking her in earnest.

By the third stroke, she climaxed around him. Her entire body clenching and pulling him in deeper. She screamed out, “Fuck!” Most likely waking up the lovely old couple next door.

She’d never come so hard before in her life. But Mace didn’t stop, he kept going, shoving her right into a second climax and a third. Each one she prefaced with a “Fuck! Fuck!”

Suddenly Mace buried his face against her neck and announced his orgasm with an actual roar.

Dez smiled at that, leaning back against the warm sheets. Her eyes closing in exhaustion. Mace pulled out of her and, she assumed, disposed of the condom.

Sleep just started to take her when Mace poked her in the forehead with his index finger. “Hey, MacDermot. What are you doing?”

Dez opened her eyes to find Mace over her again. “Trying to sleep.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We’re not done.”

“What do you mean, we’re not—” But he cut her off by pushing his already-hard dick inside of her again. He stopped to put on a fresh condom, but other than that, he was as hard, if not harder, than before.

“You can’t be—”

“That just took the edge off.” He kissed her cheek, then leaned in next to her ear. “So, if I were you, baby, I’d get comfortable.”

Holy fuck.

Mace woke up out of habit. He glanced at the clock next to the bed. It wasn’t even six yet. He started to stretch and quickly realized he was alone. He growled. He’d waited a long time to wake up in Dez’s bed. He always planned for her to actually be in it when he did.

He closed his eyes and listened. She had to be around somewhere. The television played in the living room. Naked, he went downstairs, stopping at the last step.

Dez, also naked, sat on her big couch. Her knees pulled up so her chin rested on them. He smiled. She was actually watching old episodes of Cops. He chuckled to himself. Such a cop…

She didn’t even know he stood right behind the couch until he reached out and touched her shoulder. She actually screamed, jumped up, and stumbled back away from him, tripping against her coffee table and landing on it.

He didn’t move, afraid he’d scare her more. It must have hit her. The truth about what he was. And like most humans. She wasn’t ready to handle it.

“Jesus, Mace! Don’t sneak up on me!”

Mace took a deep breath. He understood. It took a lot for humans to understand about shifters. About their lives and how their bodies worked and how they weren’t evil, blah, blah, blah.

“It’s okay, ya know.”

“What’s okay?”

“To be scared.”

Scowling, “Scared about what?”

“About me. Being what I am.”

“Oh, get over yourself, Captain Ego. You and your big but silent lion feet startled me. That’s all.”

Torn between being annoyed and wanting to fuck her on that coffee table, Mace decided to sit down on the couch instead. He stepped over the back and planted himself on the burgundy cushions.

“What’s going on, Dez? Talk to me.”

“Nothing’s going on.”

“Don’t lie to me, Desiree.”

She leaned over, her elbows on her knees, and ran her hands through her hair. After a few moments of silence, she took in a deep breath. “Petrov’s body had marks on his throat. Claw marks. Except that the grip implied…” She looked at him with those beautiful gray eyes. “Thumbs.”

Mace observed her closely. She must have the smoothest skin known to man. Except for the frown lines in her forehead, which she always had, her skin was flawless. Clearly, Dez lived a relatively clean life. No drugs. Very little drinking. And, until recently, very little sex and the difficulties that sometimes come with it.

“Are you going to answer me?”

“You didn’t ask me a question, so I was staring at you instead.”

She rubbed her eyes with the knuckles of her hands. “Mace, what am I going to do with you?”

“Well, we’ve got that big bed right upstairs—”

“Mace.”

“Or I’ve been thinking about fucking you on this couch too.”

“Mace!” She took another deep breath. “Mace. This clearly involves—you know—your people, and I’m not exactly sure how to handle this. It’s not like I can go to my lieutenant and tell him there seems to be a rash of ‘shifter killers’ around.”

“You don’t have to. This stuff works out on its own. I just need you to stay out of the way, Dez. I can’t have anything happen to you.”

She leaned forward and ran her finger along the wound she recently unbandaged. “You mean like this? We both know this wasn’t an accident.”

Debating what to say, he glanced down at her feet. The nails painted a bright red, she wore a small silver ring on the second toe of her right foot. Damn, even her feet were cute. “It wasn’t an accident, I just don’t know why they targeted you. Unless they had something to do with it.”

“They?”

He sighed. Things kept getting difficult. Well, more difficult. No point in lying now, though. “Hyenas.” When she simply raised an eyebrow at him, he continued. “You know. Hyenas. Natural enemies of lions?”

“Yes, Mace. I know hyenas. I watch the Discovery Channel.”

“They did this to you. I’m assuming whatever club you were in, whoever you met with, were hyenas.”

Dez nodded slowly. He didn’t think she understood, but apparently her NYPD attitude wouldn’t allow her to show that weakness.

“There’s one thing that confuses me.”

“Just one thing,” he teased. He knew this had to be freaking her out. It still amazed him she hadn’t tried to go for her shotgun again.

“Yeah. The club I was at last night…Shaw was there. I mean, he’s like you, right? He’s attached to your sister?”

Mace nodded, surprised at how quickly she caught on. “Who did you meet exactly?”

“Gina Brutale.”

“Yeah, they’re hyenas all right.” Mace realized exactly how lucky he was. “The Brutales are not to be messed with, Dez.”

“I wasn’t. She called me. Said she had information on Petrov. She said he was in love with her. Is that even possible?”

“Sure. You can fall in love with anybody. And I’ve heard hyenas are a wild ride in bed.”

Dez glared at him. “Thanks for the info, Mace.”

“Just trying to be helpful, Detective.”

Dez ran her hand through her gorgeous mane of hair. “Brutale owned the club. The Chapel on Sixteenth.”

Mace shook his head. “If they owned the club then that was hyena territory. I’m sure the club is considered neutral but, still, Shaw must be playing Russian roulette if he’s hanging out there.”

Mace watched Dez as her mind turned around all he told her. She seemed to be less than interested in the fact of what he was. Not while she still had a case to solve.

“Brutale thinks your sister killed Petrov.”

“Do you?”

She sighed. “No. Although I really wanted her to. I’m still not sure why me, though. What did I do?”

“You probably still had my scent on you when you went to the club.” When you were running from me.

She held her hand up. “Okay. Please stop.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s getting a little weird for me.”

“What’s weird, Dez? The hyenas? The lions?” He leaned down, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. “Or you smelling like me?”

Her eyes narrowed at the same time her nipples hardened. He almost smiled. He loved making her crazy.

“Well, your sister didn’t kill Petrov. I don’t think Brutale killed him. Shaw, however, could have or…you know…” She shrugged and watched him with those gray eyes.

“You know what?” She raised one eyebrow, and he exploded. “Are you suggesting I may have killed the man?”

“Now, calm down. It’s only a suggestion.”

“A very fucking insulting suggestion!”

“There’s no reason to yell at me.”

“You accuse me of murder and there’s no reason to yell at you?”

“Is it still considered murder amongst your people?”

“Amongst my people? Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?”

“I’m simply asking the question.”

“No, you’re not. You’re trying to find something wrong with me.”

“I am not!”

“You are too! You know as well as I do that I got off the fucking transport yesterday. Petrov was killed…what? Two days ago? You know it wasn’t me. And I would hope you thought more highly of me than that. Especially since you just fucked me.”

“All I know is that you’re not exactly human. And I only recently found that out.”

“Bullshit. You know me better than anybody else, Dez. You’ve always known I wasn’t exactly human. Didn’t you?”

“What I do know is that it all makes sense to me now. You. Your sisters.”

“We’re naked. We are never to discuss my sisters when we’re naked.”

She stood up. “You know, they actually said I wasn’t good enough for you. For you!” Dez pointed at him. “You’re a freak.”

“And you reek of normal. You surrounded yourself with a shitload of guns and the world’s largest dogs so no one will get near you, and the first male that does, you accuse him of being a murderer.”

“I didn’t accuse you. I made a suggestion!”

The two glared at each other. Mace could feel and smell Dez’s rage. He also sensed her fear. Yet he now knew it wasn’t because of what he was, but her own fear of being hurt again. Of having anyone get close enough to touch the woman she had buried underneath her Kevlar vest. But he didn’t have time for her bullshit. He was crazy about the woman. Madly in love with her. Probably from the first time he saw her all those years ago. So she would simply have to get over whatever little “issues” she had.

“Come here, Dez.” He didn’t mean to spit that out through clenched teeth.

“No.”

“Come. Here.” Well, that sounded like an order. Probably not good either.

“Fuck. You.”

Well, this wasn’t working. He watched her glare at him from no more than five feet away, but it felt like a two-hundred-mile chasm. His need to touch her became almost overwhelming. The desire to stroke her flesh. To lick that little pulse point on her neck. To kiss her. God, did he want to kiss her.

Mace leaned forward and gently grabbed hold of her hand. He gave a tug. “Come here, Dez.”

Her anger receded as quickly as it came. She rewarded him with a shy smile. “Why?”

He tugged again. “Please.”

Dez slowly moved toward him. He pulled her until she sat on his lap, facing him. Her strong legs straddled his thighs.

“The condoms are upstairs,” she reminded him softly.

He pushed her thick silky hair off her face. Ran his hands across the soft flesh of her cheeks. “We don’t need ’em for this.”

Dez let Mace pull her toward him, his eyes on her mouth.

Could she be more of a bitch? No, she couldn’t. Why else would she accuse the man of being a murderer? She knew he wasn’t. A predator…definitely. A well-trained military killer…absolutely. But to gun someone down in cold blood? Nah. If for no other reason, Mace simply wouldn’t bother. He simply didn’t like or dislike most people enough to get up the emotion necessary to blow their brains out. He was a cat, after all.

“I’m sorry, Mace.” The words were out of her mouth before she could hope to stop them. “I should have never said that to you.”

He smiled and she almost came from the sight of it. “You’re right.” He ran his big hands through her hair and she moaned at the contact. She never believed hair could be an erogenous zone. Man, she’d been wrong about that. “You should have never said that to me.”

“Can I make it up to you?”

“We’ll have to see, now won’t we?”

As soon as his lips touched hers, a jolt went right to her pussy, causing her clit to actually spasm. From just a kiss. She never thought that possible. At least not for her. But with Mace, anything seemed possible.

He pulled her closer, his tongue sliding across hers, his strong hands moving across her back. She kept waiting for more, but he kept kissing her. Only kissing her. That’s all he wanted. She sighed and melted against him.

Nope. She couldn’t deny it. This man rocked her world. Her universe.

She squirmed against him. That flash-flood warning problem happening again. Her nipples were so hard they hurt. And Mace kept on kissing her, his hands never leaving her back or going below her waist.

Man, she was in over her head.

“You keep squirming, baby. You okay?” He licked her collarbone, but she could feel his smile against her hot flesh.

“Mace?”

“Yes?”

“Stop messing with my head.”

“I didn’t know I was. I’ve just always wanted to make out with you. It’s a fantasy of mine. I figured this was as good a time as any.”

She wanted him so bad she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. “Well, it’s not. So get on with it.” Mace pulled back from her, and Dez groaned in disappointment. “What, Mace? What?”

“I’m enjoying the fact you think you can order me around.”

She really did not like the sound of that. “Uh—”

“Put your hands on my shoulders and lean back a bit.” Dez placed a hand on each shoulder and leaned her upper body back. Mace’s right hand slid down between her breasts, across her stomach, pausing at her crotch. His thumb right above her clit. Without thinking, her grip tightened a bit on his shoulder.

“Look at me, Dez.” She did. “Don’t close your eyes. Don’t look away. You understand?”

She opened her mouth to reply.

“And I don’t need a thesis on this. Yes or no will do just fine.”

She glared at him. “Yes. I understand.”

“Good.” Mace twisted his hand, pushing two fingers inside her and brushing his thumb over her clit. Immediately Dez’s head fell back in a moan. Mace stopped. “See,” he pointed out softly. “Clearly you don’t understand.”

Dez took a deep breath and looked back at Mace. Christ, he’s serious.

She wanted to call him every name in the book—and she had a big book—but she wanted him to make her come in the worst way. So, for once, she bit her tongue. Besides, there was something about not having to worry about…well, about everything that really turned her on. She’d never given up control to anyone before. Mace would be her first. She had the feeling she wouldn’t be disappointed.

Mace stared at her for a moment. “Are we clear, Marine?”

Dez fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes. We’re clear.”

“Yes, we’re clear…what?”

“Mace Llewellyn—” He swirled his fingers inside her, causing Dez to gasp.

“I’m waiting.”

“Yes. We’re clear…” Dez gritted her teeth. “Commander.”

His grin almost blinded her. “I like hearing you say that. I wish I’d seen you when you were still active. Me being an officer and you…not…I could have had some real fun.”

He would so be paying for this.

Slowly, he began pumping his fingers in and out of her. Taking his time. Dez promised herself again she’d make him pay for this…later.

Her eyes locked with his and she clenched her muscles around his fingers. He grunted in satisfaction as the pad of his thumb massaged her clit. Dez forced herself to look Mace in the eyes. It wasn’t easy. All she wanted was to close her eyes and ride the sensations he inundated her with. Plus, those gold eyes burned into her, stripped away all her defenses. He took control, but in the process he made her feel strong, female, and sexy. No one had ever done that for her before. No one had ever bothered to try.

“Stay with me, Dez.” Good God, that voice of his would be the death of her. His voice stroked her like his fingers. Only it touched her in places his fingers couldn’t quite reach.

Dez’s muscles tensed and her orgasm rolled up on her in one crashing wave. Mace, though, still wouldn’t let her look away. She had a feeling his pleasure relied on her pleasure. His hard dick rubbed against her butt as his breath came in short, hard pants.

She dug her short nails deep into Mace’s shoulders. Her entire body unraveled. Falling apart under his skillful hands. “Fuck, Mace. Fuck!”

His fingers picked up the pace, pumping in and out of her with one intent. “I wanna see you come, Dez. Now.”

She did. She broke into a million pieces all over the man’s hand. And not once did she look away from those beautiful gold eyes.

She is so beautiful. Sitting around watching Cops or coming all over him, the woman was freakin’ beautiful. He always loved getting a woman off, but something about Dez’s pleasure, her joy at simply having an orgasm, absolutely set his hair on fire.

The woman held complete control of his heart and didn’t even know it. He wasn’t sure she even cared. Dez collapsed against him, her lips against his collarbone. Her fingers still digging into his shoulders. She belonged here. On his lap, right on top of his cock. Skin against skin. Heart against heart.

He could do it. He could make her love him. Even if he had to put up with those goddamn dogs, he’d get her to love him.

Mace rubbed his chin against the top of her head. “So…did that take the edge off?”

She chuckled against his neck and goose bumps broke out across his skin. “You could say that.”

“Then can I get back to business?”

Dez sat up as he slowly removed his hand from what he now considered the most amazing hot spot on earth.

“Back to what business?”

He ran his still-wet hand over her bottom lip, leaned in, and licked it away.

Dez shuddered. “Oh. That.”

“Yeah. That. You’re not going to work today, right?”

Dez gazed at his mouth and shook her head.

“Good.” He pulled her toward him. “Then kiss me, Dez.”

Chapter Six

Dez woke up when her dogs licked her face. She pushed the two Rotties away and glanced around. Half on and half off the end of the bed, her body completely tangled up in the sheets.

“Sitz.” Her dogs sat. “Plotz.” Her dogs lay down. She trained them in German since they were German dogs. She glared at them. “Thanks for deserting me last night.” They at least had the decency to look ashamed.

Dez sat up. The room was a wreck and she guessed she was too. She listened but didn’t hear Mace anywhere. Maybe he left. Didn’t want to be around for the morning-after awkwardness. Not that she blamed him. She hadn’t been looking forward to that either.

Dez slowly stood up. She took a couple of steps to see if she could still walk. Surprisingly, she could. She thought for sure the man made her a cripple, her entire body sore as hell. Not that she actually minded.

She glanced at her nightstand clock. Already one o’clock. Well, if she were going over to her parents’ house on Christmas she needed to get the rest of the gifts. And order that goddamn pie.

The thought of facing last-minute shoppers didn’t sound very tantalizing, but she didn’t have much choice. Besides, her alternative? Sitting around waiting for Mace to call. She shuddered thinking she even would do that for one second of the day. Hell, there was no shame in the one-night stand. It had been a one-night stand, right?

Of course, nothing about this felt like a one-night stand. Far from it.

Dez stumbled to the bathroom, her two dogs trailing quietly behind, and took a shower. As she towel-dried her hair, she examined herself in the mirror. She did look well fucked, now didn’t she?

Well fucked by a cat.

She waited for it. The freak-out over the cat thing. But it never came. Christ, either she’d become really jaded or she really didn’t care. She thought about it for a moment.

Nope. She really didn’t care.

Dez headed back to her bedroom but stopped when she heard noises from the kitchen. When her boys dived back under the bed, she knew what it was. Who it was.

Holy shit. He’s back. She wasn’t sure how to react to that. Although her body began to cream at the mere thought of him. Well, she would have to do something about that.

Still wearing her towel, she walked down the stairs and headed to the kitchen. She heard female voices chattering and assumed Mace turned on some female talk show. But when she opened the swinging door, she stopped and almost choked in horror.

“Well, well. Look who’s up.”

“And all dressed for the day, I see.”

Dez glared at her two sisters as her mother placed a sandwich large enough to choke a rhino on a plate and sat it in front of Mace. He sat there showered, dressed, and, surprisingly, shaved. He even had on what appeared to be new clothes. Black jeans, black turtleneck sweater, black boots. On anybody else they’d look like dockworkers. On Mace…well, he didn’t look like any dockworker she’d ever known.

Dez glanced around the kitchen and realized there were department store and grocery bags all over the counters. He really has made himself at home, now hasn’t he? He grinned at her and shrugged.

“You had no food. A man could starve.”

“But her dogs never will.”

Dez glared at Lonnie while Rachel choked around the bottle of soda she swigged from.

“Why are you all here?”

“We came to see if you wanted to go Christmas shopping. We know how bad you are at that,” Rachel offered.

“But we found Mace here all by himself bringing in groceries,” Lonnie added. “And you nowhere to be found.”

Mace bit into the sandwich, and when his eyes practically rolled to the back of his head, her mother beamed. “Eat. Eat, dear boy. A man your size needs food.”

“You know when you called me about Missy, I had no idea you’d seen good ol’ Mace from high school.”

Dez couldn’t believe the two bitches. Sitting in her kitchen like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths. As Missy and Mace’s other sisters told her in no uncertain terms she wasn’t good enough for their brother, her own sisters actively put down Mace. He’s funny looking. He’s short. He’s strange.

Now they were acting like their long-lost brother turned up at their door.

Absolute bitches.

Before Dez could start getting good and frothy, her mother came around and hugged her hello. “How’s my little girl?”

“Hiya, Ma.”

“You look so pretty this morning.” Then, in a tight whisper against her ear, “If you don’t feed them, they leave.”

Dez ignored her mother, instead mouthing “Fuck you” over and over to both her sisters. Who returned the loving sentiment with the finger and the word whore mouthed at her. This went on for a good fifteen seconds before her mother stiffened in her arms.

“You three stop that right now!”

The three women froze. Hard to believe that Lonnie was one of the most feared federal prosecutors in the country and Rachel had probably removed the top of someone’s skull yesterday to get to their brain. And, of course, Dez was a well-armed cop and former Marine with a shapeshifter in her house. Hell, just a few hours ago, she had him between her legs too.

But a word from their mother still had them quaking.

“Sorry, Ma,” all three mumbled as the tiny woman pulled away from her much-taller daughter. Dez almost exclusively took after her father. Unlike her sisters, there was nothing petite or delicate about her. Of course, that didn’t seem to bother Mace too much.

“Well, we’re going to leave you two…alone.” Her mother raised an eyebrow, and Dez wanted to crawl into a hole. “And we’ll see you on Christmas, Mace.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Dez’s head snapped up and she locked eyes with Mace. “I thought you had other plans.” No way. No way could she let Mace spend that much time around her sisters. When it came to the worst lowlifes on the planet, Dez always kept total and utter control. But her family remained a whole different matter. Five minutes with them and they’d completely turn him against her.

“Nope.”

“What about your sisters? Shouldn’t you go to their house for the holidays?” She knew the whole family thing would get to her mother. Sure enough, her mother didn’t disappoint.

“Oh, Mace. We can’t take you away from your family.”

“You’re not, Mrs. MacDermot. My sisters aren’t expecting me. Besides…” Those gold eyes turned to Dez. “Dez and I already had plans to spend the day together. Didn’t we, baby?”

She wanted to say “No, we did not” but her sisters were waiting for that. Waiting to see something they could feed on. Mace knew it too. He had sisters—he knew exactly what he was doing. Fine, then. He wanted to spend time with her family, more power to him.

“How could I forget?” She rubbed her mom’s back. “We’ll be there, Ma.”

“Good. Good. Don’t forget pie.”

The women headed toward the door, leaving Mace downing that sandwich like it was his first meal in six months.

Once at the front door, her mother leaned in conspiratorially. “I still like him. He’s grown into a very nice young man.”

“Ma, you don’t even know him.”

“Yes, but I’m never wrong about these things.”

“Of course, it doesn’t hurt he’s a Llewellyn.”

Dez glared at Lonnie, “Fuck you” on her lips. One look at her mother told her that would be a bad idea. The woman believed in the holiday spirit, even if she had to kick the shit out of you to make sure you were feeling it too.

Her mother hugged her. “See you soon, honey.”

“Bye, Ma.”

She walked out the door, but her sisters remained.

“The Llewellyns are powerful, little sister. Hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Why don’t you let me do what I gotta do and you two do what you gotta do.”

“Fine.”

Then Lonnie snatched the towel off Dez and charged out the door, Rachel slamming it before Dez could get to them. Instead, she collided with the hard wood.

They were too old for this bullshit.

Dez kept her head against the door, unable to turn around. Not when she knew Mace stood right behind her.

“Here, baby. Here’s a towel.”

She reached back, unable to face the man, and grasped the towel he handed her. Of course, it was a dish towel and not much good.

“I hate you.”

“You so wish you did. But tragically, you’re crazy about me.”

She wanted to argue with him, prove to him she hated him. That she still had control. But when his hands slid across her ass, she completely forgot what she’d been mad about.

So that was what a nice normal family was like. Yeah. He could get used to that. As much animosity that passed between the three sisters, fangs and claws never made an entrance. And before Dez arrived, the two women grilled him like he’d applied to the CIA. They didn’t want anyone hurting their baby sister. He bet Dez had no clue.

No. He’d make sure they went to see her parents on Christmas. Besides, it would be nice to have a real Christmas dinner that didn’t involve senators or a live wild boar they hunted and devoured raw.

He would worry about that later, though. Right this second, he had the most delectable ass staring at him.

He ran his hands over the curves and planes of her body, pulling her back against his chest.

Man, he had some great sex over the years, but nothing like that. Nothing like her.

He trapped her against his body, wrapping his arms around her, and leaned down close to her ear. “We didn’t wake you up, did we?”

“No. I didn’t hear you guys until I was out of the shower.”

“Good. I wanted you to get all the sleep you needed.”

She leaned back into him. “Why?”

In answer, he slipped his hand between her legs and gently stroked her. “You sore?”

She wiggled against him. “I’ll live.”

Then her stomach growled. Her head dropped forward in defeat. “That was more embarrassing than the towel.”

Mace took pity on her. He dragged her to the kitchen, pausing long enough so she could grab the Jets blanket from off the couch.

“You need to feed. It’s normal after all that sex.” He sat her down at the counter in the large kitchen. A cook or chef must have once owned the house. The kitchen easily outstripped the rest of her place. The island in the middle of the room was made of stainless steel and marble. Shame Dez never used it. Still, he found himself liking her house more and more. It smelled like her. Well, her and those stupid dogs, but he could learn to live with that. He could learn to live with a lot to be with this woman.

“Your mother made you a sandwich.” He pulled it out of the fridge and put it in front of her, along with a cold can of soda. He leaned against the counter next to her.

She stared down at the sandwich as she finished wrapping the blanket around her like a towel, covering everything from her chest down. “What’s the meat on this? Antelope?”

He smiled. What a smart-ass. “Actually they were out. It’s zebra.”

She picked up the sandwich, brought it to her mouth, but stopped when she realized he was staring at her. “What?”

“I’m waiting for you to finish eating.”

“Why?” He grinned and she turned completely red. “Oh.”

“So hurry up.”

“I can’t eat with you staring at me. Talk or something.”

“Well, when I started in the Navy I knew this guy—”

She cut him off by raising one finger. “No, and I mean no Navy stories. Ever.”

“What’s wrong with the Navy?”

“Nothing. It’s military stories in general. Nothing makes me crazier than listening to a bunch of males sitting around talking about their goddamn military glory that always ends with something about a barhook giving them a happy ending.”

“Okay then. Of course that doesn’t leave much. I was in for fourteen years.”

She finally took a bite of the sandwich and now spoke around a mouth full of food. “Come up with something. You’re smart…” She looked him up and down. “Basically.”

“Okay.” He waited until she took another bite of food. “My sister tried to rip my throat out once.”

He pounded on her back to prevent her from choking. Eventually she swallowed and glared at him. “Don’t do that!”

“Sorry.”

She took a gulp of soda and leveled those gray eyes at him. “You know, your sisters are real bitches.”

“Yeah. I know.”

She went back to eating and talking simultaneously. “The worst thing my sisters did was hold me down and spit on me.”

Mace grimaced. “I think I’d rather have her rip my throat out.”

“There’s an upside to both.”

Mace watched Dez eat. He examined her long neck and strong body. Her arms well defined, probably from handling those two stupid but huge dogs. He noticed faded, jagged scars on her shoulder. Without thinking, he ran his forefinger across the indented flesh. “Where did you get these?”

Dez shrugged. “Baby.”

“A baby or your baby?”

Dez grinned around her sandwich. “Neither. The Baby. My first working dog. I was a dog handler in the Marines. Her name was misleading.” Mace guessed so when he made out at least a dozen puncture wounds on and around her shoulder.

“A dog handler, huh? Were you any good?”

“Nope. I was one of the best.”

“Yet who knew you were really a cat person at heart?”

“I’m not. I just tolerate you because you have exceptional thighs.”

Mace laughed. “So what happened with Baby?”

Dez swallowed a mouthful of food. “I’d only been working her about two weeks or so. I was pretty terrified of her, but I didn’t want to tell my sergeant because I didn’t want him to think I was weak or something.” She shrugged again. “One night I was putting Baby up in her run, I took this chewed up old ball from her…and she didn’t seem to appreciate that much. Next thing I know, she had me by the arm and had dragged my ass into the run with her. Then I woke up in the hospital, covered in bandages.”

“Jesus, Dez.”

“It’s the risk you take being a dog handler. You’re gonna get bit.”

“You were mauled.”

“Samey-same, G.I.”

“Did they put her down?”

“Nope. They blamed me. They were going to give her to another handler, but I wouldn’t let ’em. I was determined to train her ass myself. The other handlers suggested I take her on a Nature Walk. I thought about it, but I just couldn’t.”

“A Nature Walk?”

“Don’t ask.” She took another bite and spoke around the food. “Anyway, when I was done, we were the tightest team out there. I could control her off-leash with hand signals alone. Of course, no one could get near me. She protected me like you wouldn’t believe.”

Mace touched the faded scars again and goose bumps broke out over her flesh. “What happened to her?”

“Typical military bullshit. They gave her to another handler. New C.O. hated me. Bad move, though.”

“Why?”

“The next handler…she took his hand. Literally.”

“Charming.”

“Baby was all about the charm.”

He stared at the one-third left to her sandwich. “You done yet?”

“God, you’re pushy. I forgot how pushy you are.”

“No. That’s not pushy. But I can be pushy.” He took the rest of her sandwich and shoved it in his mouth. He chewed. Swallowed. “Now are you done?”

Dez bit back a smile. Mace Llewellyn. Always a royal pain in the ass. Now her royal pain. So she might as well enjoy it—and him—while it lasted.

Dez slid off the stool and stood in front of him. Gold and beautiful, the man could completely change his molecular structure with a thought. How cool is that?

“I’m still hungry, Mace.”

He sighed dramatically. “Fine. There’s a bag of chips on the counter.”

Dez shook her head while she undid his belt buckle. “Not good enough. I need a little more protein than that.”

Mace took a deep breath, watching her closely. “Oh.”

“That the best you can do, Llewellyn?”

“At the moment—yeah.”

“I see.” Dez unzipped his pants. As she dropped to her knees, she dragged his black jeans with her, unleashing that enormous dick. With the tip of her tongue, she licked off the small bit of pre-come already glistening on the head.

She glanced up. Mace had his arms stretched out across the counter, as if nailed to a cross. His eyes closed, his head leaning back. She smiled. Cocky bastard.

“These jeans new?”

His head snapped forward. “What?”

Such urgency flooded his voice, it took all her strength not to bust out laughing. “I said are these jeans new? They look new.”

He swallowed. “Um…yeah…got them this morning.”

“Locally?”

His fingers dug into the metal of her island countertop. Even his claws came out. “Yes.”

“The sweater too?” She tugged on it. “It’s nice. I like it.”

He glared down at her. “You’re killing me, Desiree.”

“I know, baby.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to ask me—nicely.”

“I don’t ask.”

“Cause you’re a Llewellyn?”

“No. Cause I’m a cat.”

“But I’m a—what was it? A dog person. And dogs beg for my attention. I want you to beg.”

“I definitely don’t beg.”

“You will if you want my mouth around your dick anytime this millennium.”

Dez leaned forward and let her tongue swirl around the head. Once. She pulled away, her eyes locking with his, and licked her lips.

With a deep and painful groan, Mace’s head fell back again. Dez stifled a laugh.

“Ask me, Mace. Ask me nice.”

There was a long pause, then she heard Mace’s gruff voice talking to the ceiling. “Please, Dez, for the love of all that’s holy—put my cock in your mouth and suck me as if your very life depended on it.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard, now was it, baby?”

Without waiting for him to answer, Dez opened her mouth and eased Mace’s huge dick in until the tip hit the very back of her throat. She closed her lips around the engorged flesh and sucked. Hard.

Mace gave a catlike hiss, and Dez had the feeling her countertop was suffering some serious damage. Oh well. It came with the house.

She pulled back until only the head rested in her mouth. She laved it with her tongue, then sucked on it. With a sigh of pure enjoyment, she deep throated him again. She didn’t know blow jobs could be so enjoyable. Her ex always made her feel like they were obligatory. The job requirement for being his wife.

It didn’t feel that way with Mace, though. All she wanted from him at the moment was his pleasure. She stroked his dick with her mouth, sucking hard when she pulled back, licking when she went back down. She brought her hands up between his thighs and gently took hold of his balls. They were tight, and she knew he’d come soon. Normally, she’d pull away and finish him with her hand. But there was no way she was doing that. She wanted him to come in her mouth. She wanted to taste him in the back of her throat and know she brought him there.

His hands tunneled through her hair. He tugged, forcing her to look up into his face. Without releasing her grip on his dick, she did. He stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. Then his eyes closed, his body tightened, and with a kind of scary, kind of sexy roar, he came. She sucked and swallowed until she drained him dry.

Dez finally released her grip on his dick and that’s when he yanked her to her feet by her hair. Startled, she barked out a curse, but it got lost in his mouth as he crushed her in a brutal kiss that made her entire body ache. She knew he tasted himself in her mouth, but that seemed to only fuel his lust.

Mace yanked the blanket off her body and pushed her toward the wall.

“I swear, Dez. The things you do to me.”

Even in the wildest, dirtiest dreams he used to have while trapped in his bathroom, he never imagined that Dez would be this hot, this willing, this wild. She was much more than he ever hoped for. And she belonged to him.

Her hands moved along his shoulders and down his chest. Now that she knew he craved her affection, she never stopped touching him. Which is what he wanted. She pulled his sweater over his head and tossed it across the room while he toed off his boots and kicked his jeans after them.

Once naked, he forced her against the pantry door with his body. She gasped, and it rippled against his skin.

“Wait. Wait.”

“What?” He didn’t mean to growl that at her, but his need for her nearly overwhelmed him. And her naked body against his…damn.

“We used up the condoms last night.”

“I’m a SEAL.”

“And?”

He reached over to the counter, digging into one of the bags. He pulled out the box of condoms. “We are always prepared for every contingency.”

She took the box. “I didn’t even know they had boxes of fifty.”

“That should last us a day or two.”

Dez squeaked and tried to bolt past him. He caught her around the waist, pushing her back. “What are you doing?”

“Running for my life. Much more of this and I’ll be walking like I’ve been in the rodeo.”

“You complaining?”

Dez frowned, deep in thought.

“Fine.” He started to walk away, but Dez’s hand on his rapidly growing cock stopped him in his tracks. “I didn’t say leave.”

“You didn’t say stay either.”

She pulled him toward her, using his cock as a handle. She kissed his chest, nipped the flesh.

“Stay, Mace. Stay with me.”

Wow. This certainly couldn’t be Dez MacDermot. The bitter ex-wife of a lawyer who told everyone in his office she was a cold fish with a dry pussy. Dez now realized the man was an asshole, because she was anything but cold.

She looked up and was startled by Mace’s expression. Intense and desperate were the words that came to mind. Funny, Mace never seemed like that before.

He stared down at her without saying anything. Simply stared. Then his hand came up and cupped her cheek.

She cleared her throat. “You’re making me nervous.”

“Why?”

“I’ve never had anyone look at me like that before. I can’t tell if you’re falling for me or if you’re going to kill me using my own kitchen knife.”

He laughed, which eased the moment for her. “I have claws. Don’t need the kitchen knife.”

“Well, that’s good to know. Now I can sleep peacefully.”

He pulled her naked body flush against his. Just her skin against his had his cock rearing right back to life. “Exactly which one is scarier?”

“You falling for me.”

Mace shook his head. “I’m not falling for you, Dez.”

“Oh.” Damn. “Good.”

“I’ve already fallen. Head first.”

Oh shit. “Um…”

He smiled. “Um?”

His hand lazily traced patterns across her chest, around her nipples, and under her breasts. She started to squirm from the pleasure of it.

“Mace, maybe we’re movin’ a little too—”

He cut her off. “Actually, I fell for you a long time ago, Dez. The day you dropped your books at my lab station and sweetly asked ‘Youse mind if I sit here?’” Dez smirked at Mace’s accurate portrayal of the Bronx accent she’d so desperately tried to curb. “And it’s not my problem if that freaks you out.”

“Do you even care if it freaks me out?”

“No.”

Christ, could the man be more like a cat?

Mace pushed her hair off her neck and licked her wound. “That still hurt?”

“Mmmhm…what?”

“You’re not paying attention, Dez.”

“Mmmhm…what?”

He grabbed her ass, pulling a squeak out of her. “Pay attention, baby.”

“What is it with you and ordering me around anyway?”

Mace leaned in, his nose right against her neck. He breathed in deep and sighed. “I love how it makes you smell.”

Oh, that’s a damn good answer. She could get used to these shifters. She understood their logic better than she understood any human’s she’d ever met.

Dez pushed at Mace’s shoulders. “I don’t think that’s good enough, cat.” He watched her, concern on his handsome face. He didn’t want to hurt her. Man, was she falling for this guy or what? That couldn’t be a good thing.

She stood up on her toes to get closer to his face. “I don’t take orders from any man.” She looked him up and down. “Especially you.” She quirked an eyebrow, and Mace’s concern turned to amusement. Well, amusement and lust.

He pushed her back against the wall. “You’ll do what I tell you to.” He grabbed her arms and pinned them above her head. “And you’ll enjoy it.”

Could a woman spontaneously come? Dez felt perilously close.

So that banging at her front door, not a welcome intrusion. Especially when it set her dogs off to full-on warning barks, and some rather scary fangs burst from Mace’s gums along with a growl that quickly became a roar erupting from his throat.

She heard Bukowski’s voice as Mace released her and protectively wrapped his arms around her body. “Dez, if you can hear me, open this fuckin’ door!”

“Who the hell is that?” Mace snapped. He really needed to find a way to control those fangs of his.

“My partner.” She pushed past Mace, grabbing the green and white blanket off the floor. “Stay here. I’ll get rid of him.” She glanced at him over her shoulder as she wrapped the blanket around her body. “And feel free to stay hard.”

She moved toward the door, eager to get back to Mace with his enormous dick and killer voice. Dez had no idea what Bukowski wanted, but it better be good.

As she neared the door, she heard Bukowski again. “Answer me or I’m breaking it down!”

Dez’s body froze, but not her mouth. “Don’t you dare!”

Her dogs stopped barking, running to stand protectively on either side of her. Fighting to control her anger, Dez snatched her front door open and came face to face with Bukowski.

Mace pulled his jeans over his painfully hard cock and thought about all the ways he could eviscerate Dez’s “partner.” He had no idea he could detest a man he barely knew, but the loud-mouthed bastard had interrupted their “playtime.” Unacceptable.

When he heard Dez’s “Don’t you dare,” he was all ready to go out there and kick some NYPD ass. But the smell of Irish Spring soap stopped him. He scented the air. They were moving through the backyard. Actually, they were right at the back door. He scented two…no. Three. Although only one of them used that particular soap.

Dez had guns hidden all over her house. He could smell the gun oil. The one in the cabinet under her sink was the easiest to get to. He crouched, his hands wrapped around the grip, when they came through the back door. Almost silently. If he’d been human, he wouldn’t know they were there until they were on top of him.

Still crouched, Mace released the safety, spun, and landed flat on his belly. The barrel of his weapon pressed against a throat.

Hard to enjoy the moment, though, with a .45 slammed against his head.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I kept trying to call you and never got an answer. I finally called your neighbors about an hour ago. The old couple next door. They said they thought they heard screaming last night.”

Maybe Sister Mary Joseph had been right. Dirty little girls like you, Desiree, get caught and dragged out in front of the town and stoned.

“Get in here.” She grabbed her partner by his arm and dragged him into her house, slamming the door behind her.

“Did that scumbag do this to you?” He motioned to the wound on her throat. It probably looked much worse than it felt.

“No. Of course not.”

“Don’t bullshit me, MacDermot.”

Exasperated, she snapped without thinking, “Do you think I’d let some guy do this to me and then fuck him?”

“Oh my God! You fucked Llewellyn?”

“I am not having this conversation with you!”

Dez, busy wondering how much time she’d actually do for killing her partner, barely noticed when her dogs suddenly spun around and charged back into the kitchen. She doubted they suddenly regenerated the balls she removed years ago and charge Mace. Someone else was in that kitchen. And one look at her partner’s face confirmed it.

Bukowski tried to grab her arm, but Dez yanked herself away from him, taking his sidearm with her. She headed to the kitchen but stopped dead in the doorway.

She lowered the gun to her side and took a deep breath to calm her exploding nerves. One false move here and she could destroy everything she held dear.

First, she ordered her dogs out with a barked “schnell.” Then Dez laid Bukowski’s gun on the side table and calmly walked into the room. She walked up to the four men in her kitchen.

Mace had her gun, a sweet little .38, shoved up against Vinny’s neck. Vinny had his Glock .45 against Mace’s temple. Jimmy and Sal had their semiautomatics—no way legal in this state—trained on Mace’s back. A Mexican standoff, and she could only hope to keep these four idiots from killing each other.

First, she focused on Jimmy and Sal. “I need you two to stand down.” When they ignored her, “I need you two to stand down…now.”

Their eyes shifted to her and, so slowly she thought they were completely ignoring her, lowered their weapons. She wasn’t out of it yet. Vinny was one of the best Marines she knew. Mace a government-trained killer.

She moved until she stood right next to them, her feet nearly touching both men. Slowly she crouched beside them and carefully placed her hands over each man’s, pulling their weapons away and up. Mace and Vinny never looked away from each other. They finally released their hold on their weapons, and Dez quickly stepped away. After one glare, both Sal and Jimmy handed over their guns as well. They knew better than to fight her when she got like this.

They also knew she had no qualms about putting all their asses in prison for illegal weapons possession and forced entry.

She walked back toward the table where she placed Bukowski’s gun and dropped the weapons there. She fought to control the shaking of her body. The thought of anything happening to her best friends or to Mace almost too much to bear.

She faced the man she held responsible for this bullshit. “Get in the living room,” she spit out between gritting teeth as she handed him back his gun. “Now!”

Mace slowly stood, the dark-haired man following. They heard Dez leave the room with her partner, but they still hadn’t looked away from each other.

Mace glanced over the men. The blond one sported a tattoo on his inside wrist. The Eagle, Globe, and Anchor. Marines.

“So…you guys interested in a job?”

Dez dragged Bukowski into the living room. “Have you lost your ever-loving mind?”

“You’re sleeping with some scumbag whose sister you’re investigating for murder and you have the nerve to ask me that?”

“I’m not investigating her anymore. I’m off the case. As of now.” Why should she pursue the case? She already knew the answers. “And I can’t believe you dragged the guys into this either.”

“They were as worried as I was.”

“You could have gotten them killed. In my house! The man’s a goddamn SEAL. He eats entire tactical units for fuckin’ breakfast!”

Bukowski shook his big, shaggy head. He often reminded her of one of her dogs. “I thought you were smarter than this, Dez.”

“Smarter than what? What is your problem with him?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” She sighed. Here came the big brother syndrome right on schedule. “No. Really. A guy like Llewellyn, all he’s going to do is use you.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“And you haven’t seen him in more than twenty fuckin’ years, but you went ahead and hopped right into bed with him.”

“I don’t hop.”

“Dez, I don’t wanna be cruel. But come on. A guy like that with somebody like you?”

She wasn’t as hurt as she probably should have been. She knew exactly where she stood with Bukowski and, in his own brutish way, he wanted to protect her. Still, that seemed a little harsher than necessary. And she was about to tell him where he could stick that particular comment when the swinging door to her kitchen exploded open, the wood banging off the wall and coming off its hinges.

Mace stormed into the living room, amazingly pissed off in just his jeans. It didn’t help his fly was only halfway zipped up, reminding her of what Bukowski forced her to miss out on. She could still taste Mace in her mouth.

Dez stepped aside as Mace strode angrily across the room. Usually the man didn’t let anything get to him. Not with that military-trained feline personality. Yet here he was, protectively pushing Dez behind him as he faced off against Bukowski.

Great. Another male protecting her. How did she keep getting into these situations?

“If you’ve got something to say, why don’t you say it to me?”

Dez glanced behind her. No sign of the other three. They must have left once they realized she was fine. They knew better than to stick around for her wrath. They’d seen the damage she could do when that MacDermot temper made its rare entrance.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Bukowski barked angrily.

“Well, ya are now!”

Mace towered a good six inches over Bukowski, but both men refused to back off. Idiots. God save her from protective men.

She sighed. “Would you two just—”

“Shut up, Dez!” They both said it at the same time, never once taking their eyes off each other. It took all her strength not to grab the gun she kept hidden under her couch cushions and shoot both of them in the head.

Instead, Dez turned on her heel and headed back upstairs, her two dogs trailing faithfully behind. At least there were some males in her life that obeyed her. “When you two are done pissin’ around me, feel free to let yourselves the fuck outta my house!”

Mace watched that cute ass walk away from him and he didn’t like it one bit. Well, he liked the view. A lot. But he didn’t mean to push her away. Not when all his future plans involved her.

“I swear to God, you hurt her—”

“Shut up. And get the fuck out.”

“She told both of us to leave.”

Mace ignored him, heading for the stairs. Bukowski stopped him with a hand on his arm. Mace looked at it, then at the man it belonged to. At least, the man it belonged to for the moment.

“Get your hand off me or lose that arm.”

He didn’t know what the little man saw, but his startled expression would be funnier if Mace wasn’t already so pissed.

“Jesus Christ.” What is this idiot’s name again? Bukowski? “You do care about her. I can see it on your face.”

Sometimes full-humans are as dumb as dogs.

“That’s brilliant deductive reasoning there, Sherlock. I’m surprised you don’t run the whole fuckin’ precinct. Now leave.” With that, Mace followed Dez up the stairs.

Chapter Seven

Dez snuggled under the covers, her face buried in her pillow. She should have remembered her Grandmother Fiona’s words to her when she turned ten. “Honey, all men are idiots.” As always, the older generation called it.

She didn’t know Mace was in the room until he laid his long body out on top of hers. A heavy, muscle-laden man, his weight still felt good against her.

“Are you and Bukowski meeting at dawn for a duel with pistols? Or you going the Brooklyn way and using a couple of two-by-fours?”

He nuzzled the back of her head, licked her neck. His tongue dry and rough. Well that’s damn distracting.

“Are you even listening to me?” she demanded as she turned over, pushing his big body off her. With a sigh, he rolled to his side and watched her. She ignored his obvious annoyance, wanting to get a few things straight before he started distracting her with that big dick of his.

“I can handle Bukowski. He’s my partner. We’ve been in some ugly shit together, and I don’t need you or anybody else stepping in and saving the day for me.”

“But isn’t that what Bukowski and those three guys did? Come in to save you from the big, bad lion.”

“That’s beside the point.”

“Why?”

“I’m not fucking them! I don’t care what they do. I care what you do.”

“I’m unclear about your logic.”

Dez grabbed a pillow, covered her face, and yelled into it. When she pulled it away, Mace still watched her impassively. Just staring and blinking.

“And you’re fixing my kitchen door!”

Mace rolled those gold eyes and sighed. “Whatever.” With a good yank, he snatched the comforter completely off her.

He couldn’t believe she was giving him shit about that door. She let that asshole Bukowski walk out without putting a bullet in his tiny pea brain with that gun she had hidden in her couch. But she orders him to fix the door. Did she believe for even a second he would ever let that idiot talk to her like that?

He gazed down at her ripe body. The woman was absolutely perfect. She tried to shimmy away from him, but he trapped her with his leg. Didn’t she know he was busy? He didn’t need her distracting him with her nonsense.

“What do you want me to do to you?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. What do you want me to do to you?” She didn’t answer, and he finally looked up to find her glaring at him. “What?”

“You don’t trust me.”

Where the fuck did that come from? “What the hell are you talking about?”

She knocked his hand off her chest and pulled herself away from him. “You don’t trust me to take care of myself. I can see it on your face. That’s why you’re so busy trying to distract me with those big lion hands of yours.”

“That’s a load of shit, Desiree, and you know it.”

“Fine. Prove it.”

He really didn’t like the sound of that. “How?”

She slid off the bed and walked over to her dresser. He really hoped she didn’t turn around with her gun in her hand. Although he wouldn’t put anything past her.

He heard metal clink and she turned around, her handcuffs dangling from her index finger.

“Not on your life, MacDermot!”

“See? You don’t trust me.”

Tricky, manipulative, little dog lover! Mace closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Look what she’d reduced him to. These shenanigans. Suddenly Pride life began looking better and better.

She pouted. “You don’t have to trust me, Mace. It’s okay. It’s okay I trust you but you don’t trust me. That’s fine.”

With a short roar, he stretched out on the bed, his arms over his head. “Let’s just get this over with, shall we?”

He ground his teeth together to keep from coming in his jeans. He’d been thinking about something like this as soon as he realized she’d become a cop. Of course, she’d been the handcuffed, not the handcuffer.

Still naked, Dez stepped up on the bed and settled her curvaceous body over his chest, straddling him with her long legs.

She held the cuffs up in front of his face. “You sure, Mace?”

“Don’t bullshit around with me, woman. Just do it.”

“Okay.” She leaned over him, her breasts in his face as she worked to secure his wrists to the bed frame. Being a cop, she hooked him up in about ten seconds. Even before he could get his mouth around her nipple.

She pulled away and smiled at her handiwork. “You’ve got huge wrists.”

He smirked. “Thanks.”

“It wasn’t a compliment or anything. Merely a statement of fact.”

He closed his eyes. The woman wanted to make him insane.

“Wanna see what I can do?”

Part of him wanted to say “No” and pout like a ten-year-old. But he was trying to be cooperative. It went against his very nature but, clearly, he would walk through fire for this woman.

Mace opened his eyes. On an annoyed sigh, “Yeah. Okay.”

Dez lifted her right breast in her hand, leaned forward, and wrapped her tongue around her own nipple. Her breasts were large enough so it wasn’t a challenge for her at all. Yet it was knowing she somehow discovered that little trick on her own—Mace swallowed. Dear God in heaven.

She licked her nipple, swirling the tip of her tongue around it. Mace could almost feel it on his own tongue. His cock strained against the hard material of his new jeans and in a few more seconds he’d end up destroying the bed frame to get to her.

Dez pulled back. “Cool, huh?”

All Mace could manage was a nod.

“Wanna see me do the other one?”

He nodded again. She held the other breast and repeated her actions, turning herself on in the process. He could smell it. And her squirming on his chest—so not helping.

She entertained him and her breasts for a little longer. When she finally pulled away, she’d begun panting. They stared at each other.

“Come here, Dez.”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to.” Funny, she smelled like she wanted to.

“What do you want?”

Dez bit her lip. Then, taking a deep breath, she ran her hand down between her breasts, past her abs, and between her legs.

“Dez…what are you doing to me?”

“At the moment? Absolutely nothing.”

Mace watched Dez’s hand as she slid her middle finger inside her pussy, slowly drag it out, and across her clit. Why did she insist on torturing him? Okay. So he had tortured her a little the night before. And this morning. And in the kitchen. But nothing like this. This was killing him.

Her finger circled her clit as her hips slowly thrust against him. He watched her, completely entranced. How could he not be? She looked so gorgeous, riding him while she sought her own pleasure. One of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen and all he wanted to do at the moment was bury himself so far inside Dez he knocked her tonsils out.

It didn’t take her long. Her head thrown back, moaning, saying his name. God, she moaned his name. With that voice. Before he knew it, she was coming. Her legs gripping his hips, her body shaking. When the spasms passed, she slowly looked down at him.

“Fuck me, Dez,” he growled. “Or I’m buying you a new bed frame after Christmas.”

“We left the condoms downstairs.”

“Then get ’em. Now.”

Dez slipped off his body and walked out of the room. Great. Now he was panting. Mace closed his eyes and concentrated on the sound of Dez walking around the house. Anything to keep him from coming as soon as she touched his cock.

He heard her go down the stairs and into the kitchen. Heard her pick the box of condoms up off the counter. Heard her feet walking back the way she came. His cell phone rang and she stopped. He heard the swipe of metal against the counter as she scooped it up and headed back to the bedroom. He blinked in surprise, though, when he heard her answer his phone. Dez didn’t seem like the type to cross those kind of boundaries, until he remembered he had caller ID on the front of it. Which meant only one thing…

“Well hi, Missy. How you doin’?”

By the time she walked into the bedroom, Mace was laughing so hard he could barely see straight.

“Yeah, it’s me. Desiree. Although you can call me Detective.”

She dropped the box of condoms on the nightstand, grabbing one before returning to Mace on the bed. She crawled back on top of him.

“Oh yeah. He’s here, hon, but he’s handcuffed to my bed right now and kind of sticky, which is my fault.” She sighed. “Well, I can ask him to see if he wants to talk to you. But I was about to make him see God…oh. Well, you don’t have to get nasty. Hold on.”

She leaned over him, holding the phone to his ear until he could pin it against his shoulder.

He cleared his throat to stop from laughing. “Hello?”

“You stupid son of a bitch! Tell me that woman doesn’t have you handcuffed to her bed!”

Mace should have been mad his sister yelled at him like a child, but with Dez kissing his neck and rubbing his nipples, he found it really hard to care.

“Is there a reason you called, because she’s getting awfully insistent. And I must obey all her commands.” Dez snorted as she moved down his chest. His sister became deathly quiet.

“What the hell does that mean, Mason?”

“That I’m the bottom to her top. The sub to her dom. The slave to her master.” Dez began laughing so hard she rolled off Mace and right out of bed.

“Please tell me you’re kidding?”

“I can’t. I can’t tell you anything. Not unless she tells me I can.”

He stifled his own laughter as Dez’s became more intense.

He could hear Missy’s attempts to calm herself down. “Mason Rothschild Llewellyn…I will talk to you another time.”

“Well, only if she’ll let me talk to you another time—” He heard the click from the other end.

Okay. Even he had to admit that was one of the best moments ever. He released the phone, grabbed it with his teeth, and tossed it across the room.

“Get your ass up here, Desiree. Now.”

She crawled back up onto the bed, but she laughed so hard she’d begun to cry. She barely managed to get back on his chest. Then she buried her head in his neck, her entire body shaking with laughter. Christ, he could be like this until next Tuesday. He wasn’t even sure she’d be able to find the key to let him loose. He shrugged. Looked like he’d be bed shopping come December twenty-sixth.

Chapter Eight

Mace woke up to a cold, wet snout in his ear. He growled and snapped. Dez’s two dogs charged out of the room, leaving a lovely trail of piss in their wake. Great. Something else he had to clean up himself. Mace sat up and glanced at the dresser. Her badge and gun were gone.

Dammit, where was that woman? She kept disappearing on him. He knew she wasn’t in the house. He always knew when she was around. He could sense her, feel her. So the question became where the hell did she go this time?

Sliding out of the battered bed—the bed frame another replacement he had to make—he quickly found something to clean the floor and then jumped in the shower. He just finished washing his hair, which now reached to his shoulders, when it suddenly occurred to him where Dez may have gone.

The one place where she could get herself killed.

Dez watched as Mace stormed out of her house, down the front steps, and headed…somewhere. Maybe he decided to bail. Thinking he could finally make a run for it. Ah, who the hell am I kidding? She knew Mace wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. If she wanted him gone, she’d have to do it herself. Part of her wanted to make that happen too. Before she got in too deep. Another part—the one attached to her heart—kept telling her to back the hell off. Her heart wanted Mace to hang around for as long as she could keep him. But how long could she keep him once she started working again? When she got late-night calls about a murder they wanted her on? Or when she had to leave in the middle of dinner? Or she missed his birthday? How long would he put up with that?

She remembered her ex-husband’s words as clearly as if he were saying them right in her ear at that very moment. “You just aren’t pretty enough to put up with this kind of shit, Desiree.”

Mace spotted her SUV. He stopped and stared at it. She found it fascinating to watch him move. He’d been right, of course. She always knew he was a predator. That he wasn’t quite human. She’d known it deep in her bones.

He sniffed the air, then spun around, his eyes locking on her. With a growl, he stormed over to her as she calmly sipped her coffee.

“You’re making me crazy!”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Don’t ya think I know that?” Mace sat down on the stoop beside her, his thigh barely touching hers. She suddenly wanted to crawl into his lap and let him hold her, but she had never been good with public displays of affection. Mostly because she didn’t know how to do it.

“I thought you’d gone back.”

“Gone back where?”

“To that club from last night.”

“The one with the hyenas?” Had the man lost his mind? “Wow, I didn’t know I had ‘stupid idiot’ tattooed on my forehead.”

He smiled and she immediately became wet at the sight of it. “Not stupid idiot. Big, bad cop.”

“No way, cat. They tried to kill me once. Why would I push my luck? Besides, vice squad’s raiding them as we speak.”

Mace closed his eyes and gave a deep sigh. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, I fuckin’ did.” She took another sip of her coffee. “They can probably only close them for a night or two, but it will still give me such joy.”

“You’re crazy.”

“There’s no hard evidence of that.”

Mace suddenly lifted her arm up and stretched out, his head in her lap. He placed her hand on his head. “Stroke away, baby.”

She put down her coffee and started laughing. It seemed she didn’t have to know how to show affection. Mace would command her. Actually, that kind of worked for her. If she wasn’t in the mood, she could always roll his ass down the stairs.

Dez dug her hands into his wet hair and slowly pulled her fingers through the silky mass. After the third stroke, Mace began purring. Considering his head lay in her lap, damn near her clit…she shook her head. She really needed to get some kind of control around this guy or she’d end up embarrassing herself.

Mace rolled onto his back, his big feet planted firmly against the porch handrails. He smiled up at her with those beautiful eyes. His wounds from the previous night were already faded, but she’d probably have that scratch on her neck for the next couple of weeks.

Dez kept running one hand through his hair, marveling at how fast it had grown in, while she laid the other on his chest.

He took her free hand and held it between his. He slid his finger across her flesh, and Dez bit the inside of her mouth to keep from moaning.

“What do you want to do today,” he muttered softly.

Fuck you senseless? “Whatever.”

“We could go into the city.”

“Yeah.” Not a bad idea, really. “I still have some shopping to do.”

“You know, Dez. For someone with ‘moral issues’ against this holiday, you sure do have a festive apartment.”

She kind of hoped he wouldn’t notice that. She should have known better. “I don’t have a problem with the holiday. I have a problem with…with my…” Exactly how did he expect her to make a cohesive thought when he insisted on putting her finger in his mouth and sucking on it?

“Go on,” he pushed, her finger still in his mouth.

She tried again. “I have a problem with my family.” She closed her eyes and shuddered as his tongue slid around her index finger. “They make me crazy.”

“Like I do?”

“No, Mace. Not like you.” No one like you.

“Good.”

Cocky prick. She shook her head again. The man would never change.

“You know, we could stay here and fuck all day.”

“Very subtle, cat.”

His expression thoughtful, he said, “You seem real comfortable with what I am, Dez. Why is that?”

“Last night you said I was scared of you.”

“I was wrong. You’re not scared of the cat. You’re scared of the man.”

“Bullshit, Llewellyn.”

“You’re scared of where this is going.”

“It’s not going anywhere, Mace.”

“The hell it isn’t. You know I’m in—”

Her cell phone rang. “Phone!”

Mace jumped, his words cut short, as she scrambled to answer her cell. She didn’t want to have this conversation. She wasn’t ready for this conversation. And she damn sure never would be.

“MacDermot.”

“Hey, darlin’.”

Dez blinked. “Sissy Mae?”

She heard Mace growl and wondered how the hell the woman had gotten her number. “Sure is. What’cha up to today?”

Looking down at Mace, she saw the intent in his eyes. If she stayed here with him, he’d fuck her until she promised him anything and everything. Until she admitted how she truly felt. She wasn’t even ready to admit it to herself.

She needed time. She needed to think. She needed for him to stop sucking on her fingers.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Why don’t you meet me in the city for coffee or somethin’?”

“Well, there’s just one thing—”

“Of course Mace can come.” Apparently, everyone knew about her relationship with Mace Llewellyn. “He can keep Smitty company.”

She glanced down at Mace. He’d taken her hand and slid it across his rapidly growing hard-on. With a healthy shove, Dez pushed him down the stairs of her porch.

“Ow!”

Funny. I always thought cats landed on all fours.

She smiled. “Yeah, Sissy Mae. I’d love to.”

Mace turned to Smitty and held up two watches. “Which do you like better?” He motioned to one. “The Breitling?” He held up the other. “Or the Breitling?”

Smitty stared. “Is that for one of those breedin’ males?”

“No. It’s for me.”

Smitty laughed and rubbed his eyes at the same time. “I think you’re missing the point of this particular holiday. It’s the season of giving.”

“Yeah. And I’m giving to myself.” Besides, he didn’t do last-minute holiday shopping. He took care of that months in advance. That way he could enjoy the holidays buying for himself. He motioned to the jeweler. “I’ll take this one. And that Tag Heuer I saw earlier, for a woman though.”

The jeweler scurried off while Smitty shook his head.

“Pathetic, hoss.”

“What? You want a watch too?”

“No. I don’t wanna watch. I just can’t believe you’re buying her one.”

“I don’t understand why you sound so pissed.”

“Cause my sister’s driving me crazy. The Pack is asking all sorts of questions I ain’t got answers for yet. And I’m freakin’ horny as a dog.”

“Well that’s fitting.”

Mace took the ladies’ watch handed to him. He examined it closely.

“I’ll take it. Wrap it up. I’ll wear the other one now.” He turned back to Smitty. “So what exactly was going on with you and those wolf bitches at the restaurant?”

“Aw, hoss. That was me playin’ around. That’s not good enough. I need a woman.”

“Then get one. Just stay away from mine.”

“New watch. Dire warnings. She must be quite the party in bed.”

Mace snarled and Smitty held his hands up. “Kidding. Calm yourself.”

Taking the watch handed to him, Mace placed it on his arm. “Let’s get this straight, Smitty. So there are no misunderstandings down the road. I love that woman. You even look at her wrong, I’m snapping your neck like a twig. Is that clear enough for you, hillbilly?”

Smitty sniffed in disgust, sounding more like a cat than a dog. “Crystal.”

“So.” Sissy Mae sipped her hot chocolate. “Is Mace good in bed?”

Dez choked on her black coffee. They sat at a small table in front of a quiet café. A chilly December day, but Dez wasn’t in the mood to sit inside. She felt restless. She needed the fresh air, the energy of the people-filled streets. She loved the Village. Always had. And if she had a large fortune, she’d live here.

“OOh, I’m sorry, darlin’. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Yes, you did.” Dez wiped her chin. She couldn’t believe she liked Sissy Mae Smith. But she did. Sissy reeked of warmth, honesty, and a slight insanity that made Dez completely comfortable.

“Yeah. All right. I did.” Sissy smiled. “I’m sorry, Dez. My brother’s driving me crazy. It makes me mean-spirited.”

“Why?”

“He’s worried about this new business he’s startin’ with Mace. He’s worried about me and our kin. And he needs to get laid.”

“You know”—Dez leaned back in her chair—“that’s a little too much information for me.”

“That’s too much information for anybody.”

“And yet you felt the need to share.”

“I worry about him, ya know? I mean, Mace got himself a nice little girl. I want the same for my brother.”

Dez slammed her coffee down, startling her new friend. She should have known Mace had another woman. Some poor Navy wife waiting for him to come home for the holidays. “What’s her name?”

“Who?”

“Mace’s ‘nice little girl.’”

Sissy raised an eyebrow. “I’m talking about you, darlin’.”

“Me?” Now it was Dez’s turn to be startled. “I’m not nice, Sissy Mae. I ain’t little. And Mace does not have me.”

She waited for Sissy to say something, but to her growing annoyance, the woman only folded her arms in front of her chest and stared at her.

Bitch.

Smitty bit into his hot pastrami on rye with spicy mustard. Mace almost laughed at the absolute rapture on the man’s face.

“Like it?”

He received the thumbs-up, since Smitty was enjoying his food way too much to answer. For the next ten minutes, the men ate without once speaking. Although they did occasionally grunt at one another.

When their plates were clean, they leaned back with their sodas and sighed in satisfaction.

“So, hoss. Have you actually told her you’re in love with her?”

“She won’t let me. When I tried, she threw me down a flight of stairs.”

“And you’re not concerned about that?”

“There weren’t that many steps.”

“Mace…” Smitty rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “She ain’t a village of well-armed rebels, ya know. You can’t just invade under the cover of night.”

“But I have. And I will. Again. As many times as I have to. Until she admits she’s crazy about me.”

“And if she ain’t?”

“If she ain’t what?”

“Crazy about ya? Then what?”

He didn’t want to think about it. He couldn’t. He loved her too much to think about it. To worry she didn’t love him. True, he could always find another woman, but he’d still always be alone. He’d be alone because he wouldn’t have Dez.

Mace looked at Smitty and shrugged.

Dez answered her cell. “MacDermot?”

“It’s Vinny.”

Dez slammed her phone shut and took another bite of chocolate cake.

“Problem?” Sissy asked as she studied all the activity on the busy Village street.

“Nope.”

The phone rang again. Dez answered it. “MacDermot.”

“Don’t hang up.”

Dez hung up and took a sip of her coffee.

“How long are you going to torture them?” Dez had filled Sissy in on her friends bursting into her house and putting a gun on Mace. Although she left out the astounding blow job she gave him beforehand.

“Until they learn better.”

“Sounds like they were trying to protect you. Friends like that are hard to find, darlin’. You should be grateful.”

“I am.”

“But you’re going to make them sweat anyway?”

“Yup.”

Dez’s phone rang again. She glanced at caller ID. The number looked familiar to her but it wasn’t one of the guys unless they grabbed someone else’s phone.

“MacDermot.”

“You fuckin’ bitch!”

Dez grinned. “Ms. Brutale. Is there a problem?”

“Why are the cops here? Why are they tearing my fuckin’ club apart?”

“Gee. I don’t know.” Dez licked her chocolate-covered fork.

“Bullshit, you bitch! You did this. And if you think for a second I’m going to let you get away with this…”

She wasn’t surprised Brutale was pissed. Dez heard back from the officer in charge of the investigation. A big, biker-looking, old-school cop called Crushek, or Crush if you liked playing with fire. Several of Brutale’s bartenders and waitresses pulled in for possession with the intent to distribute. They closed the club for at least the night, if not longer, depending on the Brutale political clout.

“Don’t threaten me.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Maybe you should ask your sister. She seemed to have a real problem with my presence at your club last night.”

The silence Dez got back from the other end of that phone sent a chill up her spine. Not for her, but for Anne Marie Brutale. She didn’t envy the girl. She got the feeling Gina didn’t like her sister involving herself with her life.

“I understand,” Brutale said, and hung up.

Dez shuddered. No, she didn’t envy Anne Marie one bit. Of course, she didn’t really feel bad for her either. The woman had tried to kill her, after all. The bitch had made her bed. Now she could freakin’ lie in it.

“Everything okay, darlin’?”

“For me. Yeah.”

Sissy’s phone rang. She answered it, and when Dez realized it was a rather tense call from one of Sissy’s other siblings, she decided to give her a little privacy. With her cup in hand, Dez strolled slowly past the coffeehouse. A cute place that had great hours, not closing until three or four A.M. She came so often many of the staff knew her by name. She continued to walk until she found herself in front of the alley beside the coffeehouse. A fairly large place with one entrance in front and another side entrance leading to the alley. A large brick wall spanned between the coffeehouse and the building beside it. A metal door oddly placed dead in the middle.

Dez stopped and openly stared. How could she not? She knew the woman. Anne Marie Brutale. And she recognized the man. How could she forget a guy she’d once arrested? Especially a guy who broke one of her ribs during the takedown? She wasn’t sure about his name. Something Irish.

He had Anne Marie backed against the wall, one arm braced over her head. He leaned into her and she gave a freaky sadistic grin and shook her head. His free hand ran up her arm, across her collarbone, to savagely grip her throat.

“Do what I tell ya.”

Anne Marie hissed, and Dez knew she saw fangs, even from here.

“Dez, let’s go.”

Dez turned her head to glance at Sissy Mae, who had already started off down the street. When she turned back in the alley, both Anne Marie and her pet criminal were gone. Dez looked around. She didn’t understand. They couldn’t have passed her.

Her eyes locked onto two doorways. One led back into the coffeehouse. The other led into the brick wall. Part of her itched to see what was in there. Itched to find out why a Jersey princess like Brutale would hang around with such a lowlife. Something deep inside told her it wasn’t fucking, but something scary and dangerous. And she’d be an idiot to go follow them.

“Dez, come on, darlin’.”

Dez stared into the alley a few more seconds, then followed Sissy.

From the bench, Dez watched Sissy Mae glide by on the ice. Impressed, Dez sighed. She had no idea Sissy could be so…graceful.

Funny, after thirty-six years this was the first time Dez had ever come to Rockefeller Center during the Christmas holiday. She hated the crowds, the tourists, and, God knew, she didn’t skate. But Sissy Mae and Smitty wanted to come so badly, she didn’t have the heart to tell them to go by their damn selves.

Sissy Mae glided by again. She moved with such confidence and skill. She could see the younger skaters watching Sissy with admiration. Until her brother slammed into her from behind. Dez covered her mouth and tried not to laugh. Although seeing Sissy sprawled out, facedown on the cold ice, made it kind of difficult.

Dez watched the younger woman snarl, drag herself to her feet, and take off after her brother. She’d never seen two siblings play so rough. Sissy Mae threw herself at Smitty, landing on his back. Using her body, she spun him up and around, knocking him to the ground while still attached to him.

“Holy shit.”

She started to stand up, worried she would have to prevent the two from going to jail, when Mace’s hand on her shoulder pulled her back onto his lap.

“Leave ’em alone, baby. They get like this.”

Dez closed her eyes at the feel of Mace’s chest against her back.

“You know, Dez, you never answered my question. Did ya miss me today?”

“No.”

“Liar.” Yeah. She was a liar. She’d missed him all afternoon. She had a great time with Sissy Mae, but she kept thinking about seeing Mace later. Seeing him naked.

He kissed the back of her neck, and Dez fought the urge to drag Mace into the nearest bathroom.

“Did you miss me, Captain Ego?”

“Oh yeah.” He tightened his grip around her waist as he leaned in closer to her. “I missed that little sound you make when I graze my teeth across your clit. And the way you taste on my fingers and tongue. The way you dig your nails into my back when you’re coming and that little thing you do with your hips when I’m going down on you.”

“Stop.”

“Stop? You sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure.” If he didn’t stop, she’d come while sitting on his lap without the man doing a damn thing to her.

Mace closed his eyes. Thank God she told him to stop. Much more and he’d have her jeans down and his cock jammed into her right in front of all of New York. He needed to get her back to her house. Or a hotel. Or an alley. He needed to fuck this woman and he needed it soon. Hell, he’d even brought a condom along…ya know…just in case.

He heard gasps around him. Mace looked up in time to watch Sissy Mae put her brother in a headlock and slam him face-first into a gate.

“How much longer can they keep that up?”

“Hours.”

“That can’t be good. Oh shit. Security.” Dez started to stand up again but he pulled her back down.

“I’d really wish you wouldn’t move right now.”

“But I—” She stopped when he pulled her closer to his bursting erection. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“Well, what about Sissy and Smitty?”

“They can take care of themselves.”

“Honestly, Mace, can’t you control that thing?”

“Not around you apparently.” He rubbed the back of her neck with his hand. “Let’s get out of here, Dez.”

She looked at him over her shoulder. He saw the lust in her eyes. A lust as strong as his. She opened her mouth to answer but stopped when her cell phone went off.

“Goddamnit,” she angrily snapped as she answered her phone. “MacDermot.” She nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Okay.” She glanced at her watch. “Yeah. Okay. Yeah.” She closed the phone.

“I’ve gotta meet Bukowski at a bar.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope. He wants to talk to me about the Petrov case.”

“He can’t do that over the phone?” He really had to stop growling things at her when annoyed and jealous. It did nothing but piss her off.

“Yeah. He can. But he probably wants to apologize too and he won’t do that over the phone.” She didn’t seem pissed at Mace’s tone, though. Instead, she acted like she expected the other shoe to drop—or for it to be thrown at her head. There was something going on and he had no idea what.

Dez rubbed the back of her neck. “You know, I’ll understand if you want to—”

“Want to what?”

“Well, if you got stuff to do or somethin’. I don’t expect you to wait for me while I take care of this.” Why the hell wouldn’t he wait for her? She wasn’t running off to one of those bullshit charities his sister chaired or going off to Milan to watch polo like his mother used to—although she really only scared those poor horses. No. Dez had a murder case with her name attached to it. He still marveled at the fact she hadn’t run screaming from him once she knew the truth. She hadn’t gone straight to her C.O., given him the whole story, and had Mace thrown into the local zoo. Instead, she’d let him fuck her until they both could barely stand and then she fucked him back.

“Dez, the only thing I want to do at the moment is you.”

She turned away from him. “Oh.”

“Do you want to meet me back at…at your house?” He winced. He almost said “our house.”

“No. You’ll scare my poor dogs to death. I’m not sure they can handle much more.”

Smitty and his sister stood in front of them. “Can you believe they asked us to leave?” Sissy demanded.

“All right you two. Get those skates off.” Dez stood up, her hand digging into Mace’s hair. An unconscious act, and that made Mace love her even more. “We’re going to a real cop bar now.”

“Like in NYPD Blue?” Sissy actually clapped her hands together.

Dez rolled her eyes at Mace as her hand stroked through his hair. “If that brings you joy, Sissy.”

They both cringed when Sissy actually squealed.

Dez grabbed the door of McCormick’s Bar; stopped; and looked at Sissy, Smitty, and Mace. “All right, you three. I have to work with these people. No fistfights. No growling. No purring. No threatening of body parts.” She looked directly at Mace. “No grabbing of body parts. No embarrassing me. No pissing me off. Are we clear?”

The trio stared at her. With a sigh, she pulled the door open and walked in. Packed with cops from two local precincts, all trying to get in some downtime before going home to their families.

“I’ll be back.” She tugged the sleeve of Mace’s jacket. “And you be nice.”

“I’m not sure I like what you’re implying.”

Dez wound her way through the crowd, greeting friends and acquaintances. She loved this bar. Loved being around other cops.

She spotted Bukowski with Crush and headed straight toward them.

“I’m taking the Pack out clubbin’ tomorrow night. Y’all should come. You know, if you can pry Dez’s thighs off your face long enough, that is.”

Remembering Dez’s order of no fistfights, Mace instead pointed to Sissy Mae. “What exactly is your sister up to?”

Smitty turned to see his baby sister happily surrounded by four SWAT team members.

“Sissy Mae Smith!”

Mace watched Smitty storm off to rescue the four men.

“Didn’t we almost arrest you a couple of nights ago?” Mace turned to find two women staring at him.

“No.” He motioned to Smitty. “You almost arrested him.”

“That’s who I saw. Patrick Doogan. I busted him about seven years ago. My last year in uniform.”

Crush threw back a shot of tequila, his big muscles rippling with the effort. The man resembled a small mountain. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I had a conversation today with one of my informants. A hooker. She said he bragged to her he took out Petrov.”

“Why?” Bukowski asked the question, but Dez knew why. She now understood that Doogan and Mace were the same. At least breed-wise.

“Apparently he wants Missy Llewellyn.”

“So he kills her accountant? Why not try online dating instead?”

A man of few words, Crush said nothing.

“What confuses me,” Bukowski admitted, staring at his beer, “is how the thumb claw thing works.”

Dez planned to make sure Bukowski went to his grave fifty years from now never understanding how the “thumb claw thing” worked. She knew he’d never be able to handle it.

“All this is really interesting, guys, but I’m off the case.”

Bukowski and Crush looked at each other. Then Crush stood up and lumbered to the bar.

“Come on, Dez,” Bukowski said. “This is me. I thought you were shittin’ me earlier. I mean, when have you ever backed off a case? You’re like a rabid pit bull.”

“Not this time.”

“Is this about Llewellyn?”

For once, he didn’t sound pissy when he mentioned Mace’s name. “Well, it does make things a little awkward. I don’t want anyone to say I’m doing anything even remotely sniffing of impropriety. So, I’m off the case.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that over the phone?”

“Because I thought you might have something else to say to me.”

He shrugged. “About today…” He looked back at his beer. “I’m sorry.”

Dez kicked him under the table. “I know.”

“So we’re cool?”

“Yeah. Just stay out of my love life.”

“Well, you’ve never really had one before, so I was a little confused.”

Dez smirked. “Schmuck.” She stood and said, “You stopping by my house on Christmas?” A standard tradition for the partners. Bukowski’s kids loved getting their gifts and playing with her dogs, and it gave Dez a chance to catch up with Bukowski’s wife, Mary.

“Yeah. It gives me an excuse to get us away from the in-laws. Besides, Mary has a gift for you.”

“That’s cool. I have something for the kids.”

“You have actual gifts this year?”

“I always have gifts for your kids. It’s my sisters’ kids I always forget about.”

The partners smiled at each other.

“I’m outta here, B.”

“All right. I’ll let you know if it gets interesting.”

“Good. And I’ll tell Mace you said happy holiday.”

“Yeah. You do that.”

She winced at Bukowski’s sneer. No love lost between those two.

Dez pushed her way back through the crowd. She found Smitty about to start a fistfight with half the SWAT team, Sissy flirting with a couple of guys from the vice squad, and Mace chatting with two of her fellow female officers, which she didn’t like one goddamn bit.

She shook her head. No wonder she loved her dogs. Because people never listened.

Dez grabbed Sissy with one hand, took Smitty by the collar of his jacket with the other, and yanked both of them toward the exit. As she passed, she kicked Mace in the ankle.

“Move.”

By the time she got the siblings out the door, Mace stood next to her.

“Were my rules not clear?”

Smitty and Sissy pointed at each other.

“She started it.”

“He started it.”

With a sigh, she turned to Mace. “And what the hell were you doing?”

Mace smiled. “Being nice.”

Dez growled as Smitty grabbed his sister’s arm.

“We’re leavin’. Talk to y’all tomorrow.” He dragged her off to a taxi and literally threw the woman in.

Dez crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Patrick Doogan.”

“What about him?”

“Is he after your sister?”

“You could say that.”

“Mace, he’s a problem. The man has a sheet longer than your dick.”

“Wow, that’s huge.”

Dez sighed. “Would you focus.”

“What did I say to you? This stuff works itself out.”

“I don’t know about that. When I was with Sissy, I saw him. He was talking to Anne Marie Brutale. I don’t know how all the politics work with you people, but that don’t seem too good to me.”

Mace shook his head, “Yeah. That’s not good.”

“So what do we do?”

“We don’t do anything. I will call my sister.” He pulled out his cell phone. “Now, just stand there and, ya know, look cute.”

She growled in exasperation as Crush walked out of the bar. He nodded toward Mace, raising an eyebrow at Dez. “You and a lion? All right, MacDermot.” Then he walked off.

She turned to Mace. “Crush?”

Mace nodded. “Bear.”

She watched Mace walk toward her SUV, telling his sister to shut up and listen.

“There are bears?”

Chapter Nine

Dez walked into her house, Mace behind her. He hadn’t said much of anything on the ride back to Brooklyn. She asked questions about a bunch of different things, including the Doogans, but she got no more than one-or two-word answers back.

Once inside, Dez heard her front door close. She turned to ask Mace if he wanted a drink or something when Mace’s big hands grabbed her leather jacket and yanked her to him. His mouth on hers, her jacket pulled off her shoulders and snatched from her back.

“I thought we’d never get here,” he growled against her neck.

“City traffic. Blows, doesn’t it?”

He walked her back until her ankles hit the stairs, then he pushed her down. Dez watched as he pulled off her sneakers, her jeans. No smooth or controlled moves from Mace this time. She could actually feel his desperation and she loved it. He wanted her and he wasn’t going to be happy until he had her.

Her panties were the last to go, then Mace dropped to his knees, burying his head between her legs. His dry, rough tongue gliding along the wet folds of her pussy. Dez’s eyes crossed as her entire body arched. She didn’t know anything could feel so good.

His big hands slid under her ass, lifting her up so he had better access to her. He continued to lick, until he sucked her clit into his mouth.

Dez reached up and grabbed the staircase handrails, pulling her body off the floor. “Fuck! Fuck!” She really couldn’t think of anything more eloquent to say. She was lost. Deserted in this place that Mace took her. The place where he kept taking her. Again. And again. And again.

Mace never meant to be so rough with her. He never meant to grab her and fuck her on her own damn staircase. But dammit, he couldn’t help himself. The whole trip in from the city had been absolute hell. He kept smelling her, kept hearing that damn voice as she asked him questions. He couldn’t even remember what she asked him. Not with that voice of hers rasping over every word. The way her left hand sat on the steering wheel and her right kept brushing her hair off her face.

Eventually all he could manage was monosyllabic answers to all her questions, and he had no idea if what he told her was even remotely true. He’d never wanted anything or anyone as badly as he wanted her. He had no idea finally fucking Dez would make him want her more. He thought it would be the exact opposite. He’d been so damn wrong.

“Fuck! Fuck!” He really did love hearing her come. She became that tough Bronx girl he knew so well. Not that well-educated detective who knew how to hide herself behind her badge. When she came, her whole body and soul became his. Add in that voice and he was in absolute heaven.

She grabbed the shoulders of his sweater and yanked him up her body. She still had on her Marines sweatshirt. He wanted to pull it off her so he could get a mouth full of tit, but she seemed equally as anxious. Her body writhing under him as she reached up and kissed him hard. She unbuttoned his jeans, pushing the denim past his hips. He lifted himself up and pushed his jeans down as far as necessary while taking the condom out of his back pocket. He whipped it on his painfully hard cock and buried himself inside her.

“God, Mace!”

He gripped her hips hard, pulling himself out, then slamming back in. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her teeth on his throat. There were no more words between them, just the sounds of their fucking. The sounds of him taking her body over and over. She let him, holding him tight and urging him on with her growls.

His orgasm began to come on fast, but he wouldn’t let it explode. Not until he got Dez there too. Luckily, she left herself completely open to him. So damn ready for his cock she started coming so suddenly they both seemed surprised. One second she merely hung on for dear life, the next she screamed and sobbed into his neck. He let go then. Let his body come hard, knowing he’d be back inside her tonight as many times as he could manage.

It took him a second to realize he roared. Like a lion that had nailed the lead female of the Pride. He roared and she gripped him tighter. When he crashed on top of her, she wrapped her arms and legs tight around his body and sighed.

After a few minutes, he lifted himself up on his elbow. He looked down at her face. Her eyes closed, a faint smile on her lips. She looked absolutely stunning.

“Should I apologize?”

Her eyes opened and those gray beauties focused on him. “What the hell for?”

“For not trying to get you into an actual bed.”

“Don’t you dare.”

She ran her hands through his hair. Before he knew it, she had him purring. No woman had ever made him purr before simply by stroking his hair.

Dez kissed his cheek. Nipped his ear. “Besides,” she whispered, “beds are overrated.”

Dez listened to her cell phone messages while Mace scooped out into two bowls the gourmet dark chocolate ice cream he’d bought that morning. After a few minutes, she closed her phone and grabbed a bowl and spoon.

“Everything okay?”

To enjoy a more leisurely fuck on the couch, they’d finally gotten their clothes off. Her jeans, sweater, sneakers were scattered around her house. But Dez’s gun, cuffs, and badge were safely on the metal island she now leaned against. Her position allowing her the absolute joy of watching Mace walk around her house naked.

“Yeah. Three messages from Vinny and the guys. They feel guilty.”

“You have protective friends.”

“We used to watch out for each other when we were in Japan.”

“Did you date one of them?”

Dez almost choked on her ice cream she started laughing so hard. “Are you kidding?”

The look he gave her over his spoon told her no, he wasn’t kidding. She cleared her throat. “Not sure why it should matter to you, Mace.”

“Because I made them a job offer today and I’d hate to rescind it because one of them fucked you.”

“A job offer for what?”

“Smitty and I are starting a business.”

“Something in high-level personal and business security or are you two just going to be bounty hunters?”

Mace straightened up in surprise. “How did you know?”

“Come on, Mace. You’ve wanted to save the world since I’ve known you. I mean, it makes sense. You milk the rich and famous, which will let you help those who normally couldn’t afford you. People cops can’t help. Unless you really are planning on becoming a bounty hunter.”

“I don’t see me being a bounty hunter. Having criminals tied up in my trunk would bother me. Cause really I’d rather shoot them in the head.”

“It certainly will be fun watching you transition back into normal society.” Dez thought about that for a minute. “You know, this could really work for you two. With your family’s connections and Smitty’s charm—you two could make a lot of money.”

“His charm? What about mine?”

She knew he wouldn’t appreciate her burst of hysterical laughter, but who the hell was he kidding? The man’s charm was in his lack of charm.

She cleared her throat again. “Sorry.”

“You never answered my question.”

“About the guys? No, Mace. I never dated them.” She didn’t date at all while in the military. She had too many male friends. She knew what all of them were up to with women, and she made it her mission never to end up on the bad side of that situation. So she worked hard and kept her legs closed for four years. A lonely life, but she got used to it.

“Good.”

“I’m glad I brought you such joy.”

Dez glanced around. She’d put her dogs’ food out and they still hadn’t shown up to eat. “Where the hell are Sig and Sauer?”

“Under the table,” Mace muttered, focusing on his ice cream.

With a frown, she crouched down and looked under her kitchen table. And there they were—cowering.

Poor things.

“At this rate they’re going to starve to death.”

“They’ll get used to me.” Dez chose to ignore that statement and what it implied. Instead, she stood up and finally asked him the question she’d wanted to ask him for a few hours now.

She took another spoonful of ice cream. “Smitty’s like you, too, isn’t he?”

Mace glanced at her. “Why would you say that?”

“Lots of reasons. But mostly because he has a happy spot.”

“Every man has a happy spot. Some of us have several.”

“Not that happy spot.” She glanced down at the rest of her ice cream. Already full, she handed it to Mace. The man had a killer appetite. “He has one on the back of his neck. If you scratch it, his leg shakes.”

Mace slammed the bowl down on the countertop. For some unknown reason, she didn’t jump. She did, however, look at him like he’d lost his mind. “Is there something going on between you and Smitty?”

Ah. He had lost his mind. “Of course not. It just feels very comfortable with him. Kind of like with my dogs.” She grabbed Mace’s arm. “Oh my God. Is he a dog?”

“Wolf. And if you want to go out with him, you can, you know.”

“Wha—”

“You know what? I’m lying. No, you can’t.”

Dez stared at Mace. Holy shit, the man is jealous. “First off, I don’t wanna go out with Smitty. He talks too slow. I’d have to kill him. And second, what do you mean I can’t go out with him? I can go out with anybody I want to.”

This had to be the stupidest argument two grown people could have but, clearly, Mace didn’t care. And apparently neither did she.

Mace stepped in front of her. He placed both of his arms on either side of her, the island at her back.

“Let’s get this straight now, woman. You and me—we’re a couple.”

“I didn’t agree to that.”

“Don’t care.”

Dez let out an exasperated sigh and went to run her hands through her hair, but Mace grabbed her wrists.

She tried to pull her arms out of his grasp, but he held tight. “Mace, it doesn’t work that way. We’re not together because you say we are.”

“Yeah, but if we fall in—”

With strength she had no idea she possessed, Dez snatched one arm away and slapped her hand over Mace’s mouth. Hard.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

Gold eyes stared at her. Few people knew how to read Mace’s eyes. Mostly they simply freaked everybody out. But she always knew Mace’s feelings from what she saw in his eyes. Like right now, she knew she’d hurt him.

“Aw, Mace, don’t be hurt. Please. We’re just not…we just can’t…no.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Mace took her hand off his mouth and kissed her fingers. He took both her arms and dropped them down by her side as he pulled her close. He lowered his forehead until it touched hers.

“I understand.”

“You do? Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

Then she heard metal click as Mace stepped away from her. She tugged her arms and realized the son of a bitch had locked her to one of the thick metal supports attached to the kitchen island.

“I understand I need to convince you we’re meant to be together.”

“Mace Llewellyn. You let me go! Now!” Her dogs bolted from under the table and ran up the stairs.

“Cowards!” she bellowed after them.

Mace watched Dez try to figure out how to get herself out of her handcuffs. The woman simply continued to confuse him. One second it seemed like she couldn’t live without his touch, the next he expected her to toss his ass out of the front door as soon as she came.

Full-humans were so freakin’ difficult to read.

“When I get loose I’m gonna kick your gringo ass all ova this fuckin’ kitchen!” Well that Bronx girl sure had come back with a vengeance.

Mace reached out and lightly brushed her breast with his fingertips. The woman’s knees buckled. He caught her around the waist, worried she might hit the floor.

She growled at him. “Get off me, Mace. And stop starin’ at me!”

“So confusing,” he muttered more to himself than to her.

He reached down and slipped two fingers inside her tight pussy. Her head dropped against his chest.

“Dammit, Mace!”

He ignored her and instead said, “Christ, Dez. You’re so wet.”

“I am not.” Except she moaned that statement. He pulled out of her and this time she moaned in disappointment. He slid his two fingers across one of her nipples.

“You tasted so good earlier.” He lowered his head to her breast and, before he even touched her, heard Dez’s sharp intake of breath.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t, Mace.”

“Come on, Dez. Just a little taste.” He sucked her nipple into his mouth. Her whole body jerked and he had to wrap one arm under her ass to keep her from dropping to the floor.

Immediately Dez’s body responded. Her breath coming out in short, hard pants. Her chest rising to give him better access to her nipples while her juices flowed down her thighs and across the free hand he had between her legs.

“Tricky damn cat.”

Smiling around the hard flesh sitting comfortably in his mouth, he brought his free hand up and squeezed the other nipple. He didn’t have to get it hard, it already was.

“Shit, Mace!” that brutal voice cried out, and he realized he needed to be inside her again. He might as well have himself surgically implanted, because he couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d ever want to be again. Not if Dez wasn’t there with him.

“Still want me to stop, Dez?”

“God, don’t stop, Mace. Don’t—” He sucked harder and she began to break around him. “Don’t ever stop,” she begged. Then her whole body convulsed and she came hard, almost knocking him across the room. He held on to her, though. Kept sucking and tugging her nipples until she came again.

He released her and she sagged against him. He grabbed the handcuff keys lying with her badge. He unlocked her and held her sagging body against his. Dez’s arms looped around his neck and he easily lifted her up, urging her legs to wrap around his waist.

With that, he turned and headed up the stairs.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep on me, Dez,” he whispered against her ear. “We’re not even close to done.”

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.

Chapter Ten

It 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.

Chapter Eleven

Mace 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 had 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?”

Sissy frowned. “She never came back from the bathroom.”

“How long has she been gone?”

Sissy thought for a moment. “A while.”

Not the answer he wanted.

Of all Dez’s experiences, being flung down a flight of stairs by a small child had never been one of them.

She hit the ground, and pain shot through her left arm.

She tried to get up, but the giggling little bastards kicked her back to the ground. They wrapped a rough, heavy cord rope around her throat and proceeded to drag her across a concrete floor.

Dez fought to breathe, desperately pulling on the rope, trying to loosen it before it choked her out or snapped her neck. But she couldn’t get her fingers under the rope. As she started to black out, they stopped. Dez shook her head to snap herself out of whatever abyss she’d been about to fall into. Then she pulled herself to her knees. She had her hands on the knot at her neck when another hand grabbed the rope and yanked it taut. She grabbed at the hand holding the rope and looked up into the viciously torn face of Anne Marie Brutale.

The woman sneered at her. “I’m going to have such fun with you, human.”

Mace picked up Dez’s phone. Her last attempted call still blinking, waiting for her to hit SEND. 911. “You smell ’em?” he asked Smitty.

Sissy Mae stood next to her brother. “They smell young.”

Mace closed his eyes. Not good. Anything but that. Anything but hyena children. He could see it now. They lured Dez out here by pretending to be innocent kids. As a cop, no way in hell would Dez ignore them.

Smitty cast around until he locked onto the scent. He followed it to an unlocked metal door. He walked over to it and threw the door open. The scent of hyena sucker punched Mace and made him want to retch. Nothing smelled as bad as their markings. He glanced down. The stairs seemed to go on forever. But he could smell Dez. This is where they’d taken her. He had to go after her, no matter what the cost.

“I don’t have to look to know there is at least one Clan of hyenas down here. Maybe two. I can’t ask you guys to go with me. But—”

Mace turned around and found the entire Pack had already shifted. Their clothes tossed all over the alley floor. They were just waiting for him. He would have smiled if he wasn’t terrified for Dez.

He didn’t waste another second. He shifted, shook off his clothes, and bounded down the stairs—his Pack following him.

“I was so excited when I heard you and your cat were walking around the Village like you owned it. I sent my cousin’s children to go get your dumb human ass.”

Dez pushed herself into a sitting position, the wall against her back. She was in a long hallway, but she didn’t know where. A healthy guess would say she was under the Chapel Club. If she hadn’t been fighting for her life, she’d marvel on the hyenas’ use of underground tunnels.

Dez glanced up and saw exposed plumbing, sturdy and within reach. Plus, there were doors all along the hallway, including a janitor’s closet.

Anne Marie held up Dez’s gun still in its holder. “Nice weapon, Detective. You ever been shot with it?” Dez didn’t answer. “But where would the fun be in that, right? I wanna feel your flesh rip under my hands. Taste your blood on my tongue. We’re going to have such a party, you and me.”

Dez loosened up the rope on her throat with one hand while gathering the rest in the other. “Sorry about your face. Did Gina find out about what you and Doogan did to Petrov? Or was that cause of me?”

“Do you have sisters, Detective?” Dez nodded. “Then you understand. At least a little. I was trying to protect the family. First she brings in that idiot Petrov, then she lets you into our club, reeking of lion, and she thinks I’m going to let that go? Because she wants to find out who whacked her fuckin’ cat boyfriend?” Anne Marie stood in front of her. Dez pushed herself to her feet and stared the crazy bitch in the eye.

“But I’ll deal with her later. Because first…” Anne Marie whispered, “first I’m going to hurt you.”

Dez knew she had only one chance, so she might as well make the best of it. She headbutted her. Anne Marie stumbled back, caught off guard by Dez’s sudden attack. Dez pulled the noose over her head while she advanced on Anne Marie. Once close enough, she punched her. A right cross to the jaw. Anne Marie stumbled back several more steps, then Dez grabbed the brutalized side of the woman’s face, digging her fingers into the torn flesh. She got a good grip on her cheek and spun the howling, screaming woman around, slamming her face-first into the wall.

The air changed around them—Anne Marie’s scent becoming stronger, her body shifting. Dez looped the rope around Anne Marie’s throat and tightened it at the moment the woman’s body began to change. Dez knocked her to the ground, one foot flat against her back to hold her in place. She lifted her other foot and brought it down hard against Anne Marie’s hand, breaking all her long nails. She did the same to the other hand.

Anne Marie howled in rage, completing her shift so she could tear Dez apart. But as hyena, her body would be no bigger than either of Dez’s dogs. Dez had never done to one of her dogs what she needed to do now, but it was time for her to try it.

Yeah. It was time to take Anne Marie Brutale on a Nature Walk.

Mace stopped at the bottom of the stairs, the Pack surrounding him. Why the hell did he smell lion? He glanced at Smitty and realized he smelled it too. After another moment, he realized he smelled Shaw as well as Doogan and his brothers. Like he had time to deal with that little problem. This was starting to get freakin’ complicated.

He glanced down the long dark hallway and realized they were in one of the infamous hyena tunnels. He knew if he followed this tunnel, it would take him back to the Chapel Club. Growling, he sprinted into the darkness, Smitty and his Pack behind him.

Thankfully her left wrist wasn’t broken. It hurt like a bitch, but if it had been broken, she would never have been able to swing Brutale around like one of her dogs.

As soon as Anne Marie finished shifting, Dez gripped the rope tight and swung Brutale up and into one wall. Her hyena body bounced off, but Dez used the momentum to hammer her into the opposite wall. This time she stunned the beast. Heard the air “woosh” from Anne Marie’s lungs.

Using the few precious seconds she now had, Dez tossed the end of the rope over one of the exposed pipes above her head, right by the janitor’s closet. She grabbed the end and yanked down.

She pulled until Brutale hung there. A good four feet off the ground. Satisfied Anne Marie wasn’t going anywhere, Dez tried the door of the janitor’s closet. Locked. So she kicked it in. The door, not particularly strong, splintered and burst open. She walked in and spotted what she needed immediately. A large, heavy shelf case stood on one side of the room. Dez reached down and tied the end of the rope around one of the shelf legs. She made sure it was tight, and the bottom shelf prevented the rope from sliding up. With the rope taut, Brutale would continue to hang until someone let her loose.

Dez grabbed her gun and ran down the hall, forcing herself to remember that Brutale would never have let her live either.

Mace stopped beside the hung body of a hyena. He rose up on his hind legs and sniffed her. He smelled Dez faintly and knew she’d done this.

He followed behind Smitty and the Pack, but stopped when he saw what they were looking at.

The hallway split off into four directions. And they smelled Dez all over.

Sissy Mae sent several of her females down one tunnel. Smitty sent a few females, including his sister, and a few males down two other tunnels.

Mace took a step toward the last tunnel but stopped when he knew someone watched him. He saw a pretty little girl, no more than eight or so, staring at him. She looked up at the hyena hanging from the pipes; back at Mace; and, with a heart-stopping smile only hyena children seemed to possess, suddenly turned and screamed, “Giiinnnnaaa!”

Shit! Mace and Smitty exchanged a glance, then charged down the fourth tunnel.

One hyena alone could cause enough damage. But a Clan of forty or even eighty? He had to get to Dez before she fell into the middle of them or they found her. Otherwise they’d all be dead.

She turned the corner and faced another set of long hallways. What a freakin’ maze. A well-lit, confusing maze. Every corner she turned introduced her to another row of long hallways. Choosing one led her to another corner with another set of hallways and on and on.

Christ, what did she get herself into?

She stopped and took a breath. Yup. She was lost. She would have gone for her cell phone, but she’d dropped that in the alley behind the coffeehouse.

She took another breath. She would not panic. She’d get out of here. For the thousandth time she shook out her left hand. Her wrist had subsided into a dull blinding pain.

Dez moved down another hallway. She marveled at the silence. If she didn’t know a club stood right above her…hell, she couldn’t even make out the bass from the speakers. It seemed like all the walls were soundproofed.

Of course, that didn’t make her feel any better. Because no one would hear her screams.

She came to another corner and stopped. Down one of the long hallways, she heard men arguing.

She moved quickly toward the sound as she pulled her Glock from her holster. She had no idea who she would find, but Dez prepared herself to be sweet as sugar or threaten to blow their heads off. Whatever got her the fuck out of here.

She followed the voices. Her body tense, her gun clasped in both hands and away from her body. She pushed her back against the wall as the arguing turned violent. Someone was getting the shit kicked out of him.

“Do it! Do it!” a deep voice snarled.

She turned the corner and raised her weapon. Dez took in the scene quickly. One man down, a large boot against his shoulders holding him in place. The boot belonged to Patrick Doogan. She recognized him immediately now. One of his idiot brothers held a .45 aimed at the back of the vic’s head. The third brother crouched beside him, the hand not in a cast buried in the vic’s gold hair, pulling his head back to spit into that beautiful face.

Damn, even her shotgun wouldn’t help her here. She needed her M-16. But she didn’t have that either.

As a cop, she needed to scream “Freeze! Put your hands above your head and step away from the gorgeous guy!”

Fuck that. She remembered how fast Mace and Brutale moved. She didn’t stand a chance with these three.

So, without warning, Dez shot the one holding the gun. The bullet hit him in the shoulder, knocking him back, the gun flying out of his hand. The other two were so startled they jumped away from their target. They were armed, but they hadn’t gone for their weapons yet, mostly because they’d tucked them into the back of their tailored slacks.

“Get up!”

The vic looked at her, and immediately she recognized Brendon Shaw.

“Move!”

She wasn’t about to get any closer, but she wasn’t sure if she was asking the impossible as well. Severely beaten, he must have fought back. But he somehow managed to stand and stumble over to her.

“Keep going.”

He did as ordered. Dez backed away, her eyes locking with Patrick Doogan’s.

“I’ll find you, bitch. I’ll find you and fuck you and kill you.”

Dez didn’t bother answering him. Why? She knew he meant it. Instead, she kept backing up, until she got around the corner. She grabbed Shaw’s jacket and dragged him, but he wouldn’t move.

She turned around and immediately stopped breathing. They all watched her with those cold brown eyes.

A hyena suddenly appeared from the back. The others separated, giving her a path to walk through. She came up to Dez and stood before her. A dead hyena body in her mouth, the rope still around her throat.

She knew this was Gina. Especially when she spit the corpse out at Dez’s feet.

“Tell me you didn’t do that,” Shaw whispered, most likely because he’d lost so much blood.

“I really wish I could.”

“Damn.” He tried to push her back behind him. A surprisingly heroic gesture from someone she’d called “rich scumbag” in her head since he held that conversation with her tits the other evening.

She did appreciate his attempt at protecting her, but they were beyond that now. In fact, the phrase “completely fucked” kept rattling around in her head.

Dez grabbed Shaw’s jacket and took a step back, but the Doogan brothers came up behind her. She realized with what quickly became overwhelming despair that the two groups had her trapped between them. Both wanting to see her dead.

Of course…they were archenemies. And not just because they were lion and hyena. For another reason altogether.

Dez stepped in front of Shaw. “Gina.” The lead hyena watched her closely, waiting for her to make a run for it. Waiting for the hunt. “You wanted to know who killed your man.” Dez stepped back and motioned to the three men behind her. “It was them.”

Gina Brutale locked eyes with Patrick Doogan. He couldn’t hide the truth. Not from any of them. His fangs extended as he and his brothers backed away. Gina watched him for a moment, savoring their realization that they were horribly outnumbered. She opened her mouth and let out a sound that chilled Dez’s blood and made her want to start crying. It sounded almost like laughter, but it definitely wasn’t.

Doogan and his brothers ran as the hyenas rushed them.

The two groups disappeared around the corner, then she grabbed Shaw’s jacket and forced the man to start running in the opposite direction. Shaw had lost a lot of blood, but she didn’t care. He’d lose a lot more if those lions got away or the bloodlust overtook the hyenas and they came looking for more.

Dez could already hear the battle raging behind her. Three male lions against what she estimated to be about thirty or forty hyenas. Yeah. Good luck with that.

Of course, there was one little problem with her escape. She still had no idea how to get the hell out of here.

Just great, Dez. She glanced back at Shaw. He did not look good.

“Can you lead us out of here?” When he stopped and dropped to his knees she pretty much figured that meant no.

“Mr. Shaw, you need to get up. Now.”

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

“I can’t carry you, Mr. Shaw.”

“Forget me. Go.”

There he was, trying to be a hero again. Like she had time for that. “I can’t leave you here, Mr. Shaw.” Christ, she really had gone back to combat mode. Well, at least she wasn’t falling apart.

Dez heard scrambling against the concrete floor. Considering she typified lazy when it came to clipping her dogs’ nails, she knew that sound. She crouched, her gun arm steadied against her knee. She jerked her trigger finger away in time and let out a shaky breath.

Not a hyena. A wolf.

“Sissy Mae?” The wolf yipped in response. “I’m lost and he’s running out of steam.”

They heard more screams, more roars, and that disturbing howl that sounded like hysterical laughter.

Sissy Mae put her head back and howled. She called to her Pack. Dez grabbed Shaw’s arm. “Get up, Mr. Shaw. We still need to keep moving.”

He did his best, dragging his body up, using the wall as leverage. Once he stood on his own two shaky feet, Dez pulled Shaw past Sissy Mae. She turned the corner as six wolves charged past her. Two stopped and shifted back into males.

Naked males. She shook her head. Nope, not the time to get all lusty. Honestly, what the hell was wrong with her?

“He can’t make it. Take him.” They grabbed Shaw and dragged him away. “Sissy Mae, let’s go!”

Sissy followed after the males. In a few moments she heard canine nails pounding concrete as they caught up with her.

Within a few turns, they found the exit Dez had come in through. The wolves dragged Shaw up the stairs. She heard more running. More beings, not human, were moving toward them.

She aimed the gun. “Sissy, go!” Sissy tore up the stairs as more wolves came from other hallways. They all moved past her and up the stairs. That’s when she saw them. The hyenas were back. Not all of them, but quite a few. Covered in blood. She quickly counted. Nope. She didn’t have enough bullets for all of them.

Then suddenly a lion and wolf slid in front of her. Mace bellowed out a roar, and the hyenas all made a weird yipping sound, darting back and forth, apparently searching for a way to get to her. An opening they could use.

Smitty growled, his canines flashing as he snapped at the hyenas in front of him.

Mace took a step back, pushing her toward the stairs with his body. But before Dez could hightail it out of there, more hyenas came from another hallway. The only reason they stopped was because she aimed her gun at them.

This wasn’t good. At some point, the hyenas were going to bum-rush the three of them, and that would be it.

Dez desperately searched for a way out of this that would leave all of them alive, when she noticed Gina as hyena walking slowly around the corner, her sister’s body again in her mouth. Another hyena standing beside her let out a loud call, and the others challenging Mace and Smitty turned and charged back the other way. The ones facing her simply ran off.

Just like that it ended.

Gina looked at Dez, her eyes sending a clear message. She was going to let Dez go because she’d done her a favor. She’d taken out the only thing between Gina and absolute control of the Brutale family and given her the ones that had killed her lover.

Gina turned and trotted off down the hallway, her sister’s body a trophy.

Okay. No more animal night in New York for Dez. She turned and charged up the stairs. As she cleared the entrance, strong hands grabbed her from behind and pushed her out into the alley.

Roasted coffee, muffins, sewage, and a light rainstorm were the welcome smells assaulting her. She wanted to take a deep breath and enjoy the cold air, but the arms that grabbed hold of her suddenly began crushing her to death. If she hadn’t recognized the body attached to those arms, she might have been worried.

Instead, she couldn’t breathe.

“I think you’re killing her, Mace.”

“Good.” He pulled her closer to him and buried his face in her hair.

Dez waved desperately at Smitty. Unlike his now-human-again sister, Smitty was still naked. “Help me,” she barely managed.

“Well, darlin’, what did you expect? You had us worried sick.”

“That’s not helping,” she squeaked.

The door slammed shut and Dez finally felt safe.

Sissy Mae shook her head as she quickly handed her brother’s clothes to him. “I think they got some other lions. I heard it.” Once dressed, Smitty gave Sissy a big, brotherly bear hug.

“That’s not our problem. And good job, little sister.”

The girl glowed with pride at her brother’s words. Or it just looked like she glowed because Dez couldn’t fucking breathe!

“Still dying!”

Mace finally released her, and she took in big gulps of air. He swung her around to face him. “That’s it! No more helping strange children you don’t know.”

Dez pulled away from him, her breath coming in ragged gasps, the adrenaline finally leaving her body. “Are you insane? I’m a cop. If a kid comes to me, I’m gonna help ’em. So get that fuckin’ thought outta ya head.”

Mace took a deep breath as his gold eyes drilled holes into her. After a moment, “Fine. But next time make sure they don’t have fangs.”

Dez grinned. “That I can do.”

Chapter Twelve

Dez opened her eyes. Then closed them again. Never again would she drink anything referred to as “Uncle Willy’s ’shine.” Her head throbbed. She had no idea where she was…or whose arms were currently wrapped around her.

The body behind her snuggled closer and purred. In that instant, her head cleared and she knew Mace held her. She smiled. What a night. In all her years as a Marine and a cop, she never went through anything like that before. And the fact that she survived…well, she felt pretty impressed with herself. But the night didn’t end there.

Once away from the club, they took Shaw to a Midtown hospital. Apparently owned and operated by shifters, it was the only place that could truly care for the badly wounded man…or…whatever. The Pack and Mace were all ready to drop Shaw off at the emergency room and be done with him, but Dez couldn’t do that, and for some unknown reason Sissy wouldn’t allow it.

“We just can’t leave him,” Dez had argued. Not after his little heroic turn in the bowels of the Chapel. Of course, her sudden sentiment garnered an annoyed sniff from Mace and blank stares from the Pack. But eventually they saw her side of things. So they sat around the waiting room, chatting, eating, and…well…waiting. She even got her wrist x-rayed and bandaged. Only a sprain. No major damage.

Dez found herself liking Smitty and Sissy Mae’s Pack more and more as she got to know them. They were sweet and charming as only Southerners knew how. And they seemed to tolerate Mace well enough. Even after he roared at Smitty when he found Dez scratching his happy spot.

Eventually Mace’s cousin, Elise, blew into the waiting room. It turned out she would be the only Llewellyn Pride female there that cold, rainy night. Sissy Mae and Smitty seemed dumbfounded by the lack of caring from the other females, but Mace wasn’t surprised at all. Eventually the doctor told them that Shaw would survive. Elise disappeared after that, and the rest of them headed back to the Pack’s uptown hotel.

That’s about the time the drinking started. She really shouldn’t drink. Dez knew better. Hence the Marine tattoo on her ass she had removed a few years back. Of course, now that area had a big ol’ lion bite in it.

At least this time around, Mace made sure she didn’t do anything too painfully stupid. He simply didn’t let anyone near her.

Now it was the morning after. She still had on her bustier. Her body still ached from the beating it took the night before. Her wrist freakin’ screamed “cut me off” at her. But she had Mace. She really couldn’t ask for a better Christmas present than that. Hell, who could?

She sighed and snuggled closer to him. One of his hands gently caressed her stomach over the leather top while he snored. As she thought how sweet it was that he touched her even in his sleep, his hand slowly moved lower. Dez raised an eyebrow. Tricky cat.

She grabbed his hand with both of hers to stop its lowering course. That’s when his other hand began moving. She grabbed both his hands in hers, but he kept going lower while she kept pulling him back up. That’s when the uncontrollable giggling started. Christ, she was too old for giggling.

They tried to be quiet since they were on the floor with Smitty’s Pack in his main suite—with that kind of drinking, one rarely made it back to her own bed. Then Mace pushed her onto her back, him on top. He pinned her arms over her head and leaned into her.

“Don’t you dare, Mace Llewellyn,” she whispered fiercely.

“Don’t dare what, baby?”

“Get off me, Mace.”

“No way. Gotcha where I want you.”

“I’ll scream.”

“They’ll just think you’re having a good time.”

Dez growled. “I’ll scream ‘walk.’”

That’s when they knew the wolves were wide-awake. They all burst out laughing.

“Jesus Christ, Mace. Would you let the girl go?”

Sissy Mae pulled open the hotel curtains. Afternoon light flooded the room, and everyone groaned except Mace. He still focused on Dez, his eyes narrowed. She’d got him and they both knew it.

Sissy Mae tsk-tsk’d him. “Honestly, you cats have no sense of what’s proper. Mauling a nice girl like that.”

“You’re kidding, right, Lassie?”

“Why you rude, son of a—”

“Now, Sissy Mae,” her brother warned as he dragged his big, long body into one of the leather chairs. “Don’t go gettin’ all angry at Mace. You know the boy has never been in love before.” Smitty looked right at his friend with challenge in his dark brown eyes. “Now have ya, hoss?”

He would kill him. Slam him down and rip him open from bowel to throat. Yeah. He loved Dez, but he didn’t want to tell Dez that yet. Not when she physically flinched every time he got near the subject.

Damn, you call a man’s sister Lassie and they get all defensive.

He looked at Dez. Yup. There it was. In those beautiful gray eyes. Panic. The only time the woman panicked. Anytime it involved him and his feelings for her.

Sissy Mae pushed him off Dez. He rolled away from her, his legs stretched out, his upper body raised on his elbows. Sissy helped Dez to her feet.

“Come on, darlin’. Let’s order breakfast.”

“Don’t you mean lunch, little sister?” Smitty asked as he stretched and yawned.

Mace waited until the women went back to Sissy’s room, then he glared at his friend. “Well, thank you very much!”

“Don’t roar at me, boy. You called my baby sister Lassie. Only I can get away with that. Besides…you do love her. You fuckin’ reek of it.”

Mace dropped back to the floor. “I know,” he moaned.

“Jes-us, Mace. My momma was right. You are more wolf than cat. Attaching yourself to one person and all.”

“Cats attach themselves to one person.” He raised his head to glare at Smitty. “We just don’t let them know.”

Smitty chuckled. “Guess I blew that, huh?”

“God, Sissy Mae. What the fuck am I going to do?”

“You New Yorkers sure do cuss a lot.”

“I didn’t used to, but Mace keeps bringing out the angry Bronx girl in me.”

“You know what you’re going to do, Dez? You’re going to love him and go about your day.” Sissy Mae gently unwrapped Dez’s sprained wrist.

“This was supposed to be a fling—wasn’t it?”

“Well, if you were a barhook on one of the bases that would be possible. But you’re the great Desiree MacDermot. Mace’s true ladylove. If you ask me—”

“And I didn’t.”

“But if you did, I’d say that boy’s been waitin’ on you his whole life.”

“You’re kind of a romantic, aren’t ya?”

Sissy Mae smiled. “I’m not romantic at all, darlin’. I’m a realist. And a good one. I know what I see when it’s right in front of me. And your entire body vibrates around that man.”

Mace had no idea what went down between Sissy Mae and Dez but suddenly Dez wouldn’t look at him. They ate brunch and Dez talked to Sissy Mae the entire time. They watched A Christmas Story, and Dez leaned up against his side but still wouldn’t look at him.

Eventually he couldn’t take it anymore. He slid his hand down the back of her pants.

Dez made a little squeak sound and began to rub her eyes with her knuckles.

“Everything all right, darlin’?” Sissy asked with all the subtlety of…well, a dog. “Need anything?”

“No. I’m fine.” Except that Dez’s voice went up an octave. Which sounded strange with the gravelly rasp she usually came out with.

When Sissy went back to watching television, Dez slammed her elbow in Mace’s gut, but he did no more than grunt.

She leaned against his ear. “Get your hand out of my pants.”

Mace shook his head and gently rubbed one of her cheeks with his unsheathed claw. She jammed her elbow in his gut again. “Cut it out.”

“Make me.”

The couple ducked as the wolves began chucking paper goods at them.

Sissy smiled at her friends. “You two better go. Before it turns into a catfight.”

Good. Exactly what Mace wanted. He pulled his hand out of Dez’s pants and yanked the woman to her feet. He barely gave her enough time to grab her jacket before he snatched her out of the hotel room toward the elevators. Sissy Mae yelling something about after-Christmas shopping, the last thing he heard before the doors closed.

Dez watched Mace pull his big, undamaged body out of the taxi. Her breath caught, her breasts tightened, and visions of things the nuns definitely would never approve of ran through her head. She turned away and began walking toward the house while Mace paid the taxi driver. Maybe for once she would have a good holiday. At least she’d actually get some holiday nooky for a change. The way Mace stared at her in the cab—she was damn positive she’d get some holiday nooky. Maybe they could have some more fun on her stairs.

Dez walked up her porch and unlocked the security door. She went to open the front door when Mace came up behind her. He kissed her neck, his arm wrapping tight around her waist, pulling her close into his warm body.

When he purred in her ear, she thought she might pass out.

“We’re supposed to see your family at five o’clock.”

“It’s already four-thirty. My parents live in Queens. We’ll call ’em and tell ’em I had to work or something. We’ll just lie our asses off.”

He put his hand in her hair and pulled her head back. “Good plan. Because all I want to do right now is take you upstairs and fuck you blind.”

Dez laughed, but stopped when he didn’t.

“Uh…I actually need my eyesight.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll be temporary.”

He kissed her, and Dez realized that Sissy Mae was once again right. Dez’s whole body vibrated at his touch. Especially when he unzipped her jacket and his big hand slid over one of her leather-clad breasts. He squeezed it, his big fingertips running along the exposed skin above the leather.

She didn’t know how much more she could handle before she came right on her porch. So lost in Mace she didn’t even hear her front door open.

“We wondered when you’d get here.”

Dez snapped up straight at the sound of her father’s voice, her head slamming into Mace’s.

“Ow!”

“Daddy!”

Dez looked at her father. No. The man wasn’t pleased. She tried to pull away from Mace, but he gripped her tighter. Her jacket covered up his hand, but her father was hardly stupid. He knew Mace had her by the tits and that he wasn’t letting her go.

“Having fun with my daughter there, boy?”

“As a matter of fact—”

Before he could finish that particular statement, Dez slammed her elbow in his gut.

She probably hurt her elbow more than his gut, but it surprised him, giving her the chance she needed to pull out of the death grip he had on her tits.

Dez gave her father a warm hug.

He hugged her back. “Merry Christmas, sunshine.”

“You too, Daddy.” She stepped back from him. “Why are you here?” She couldn’t believe for a second her father would miss Christmas dinner with his grandkids. Even for her.

“When your mother couldn’t track you two down, she thought you might try to lie your way out of it.” Dez flinched. Damn. She couldn’t get anything past her mother. The woman always knew what her daughter was up to. Always. “So she decided to move the whole thing here.”

Dez blinked. “Move what here?”

He stepped back and one of her nieces ran up to her. “Aunt Dez, Aunt Dez!”

Dez swallowed the panic that welled in her throat. Oh, this was bad. “Hey, Lucy. How’s my girl?”

The six-year-old wore her Christmas best. The girl’s dress probably cost more than the Desert Eagle Dez had bought herself a few years back. “Good. Is it true what Mommy says?”

“What’s that, honey?”

“That you have issues with men?”

Dez growled. “Well you can tell your mommy to go f—”

“Okay, then!” Mace covered her face with his hand while her father pulled the little girl back into the house.

Once her father removed the little girl to a safe distance, Dez pulled out of Mace’s arms.

“I am so leaving.” Dez tried to push past him but he blocked the doorway with that gorgeous body she had been all ready to have her way with. Damn family!

“You can’t leave. Your family is here for you.”

“That’s why I’m leaving.”

Mace traced her jaw with one big, long finger. “Stay. For me.”

“I’d rather chew glass.”

“But once they’re gone tonight, I have such plans for you and that hot little body of yours.”

Dez bit the inside of her mouth. Damn him. He was using sex to entice her to stay in hell. And fuck but if it wasn’t working. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

He leaned down to her ear and purred. Damn but she loved when he purred.

“I’ve been waiting to bury my head between your thighs all day. To take my tongue and—”

“Hi, little brother.”

Mace’s entire body clenched up. Dez looked over her shoulder and into the eyes of Missy Llewellyn.

Suddenly, she lost all interest in leaving anytime soon.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“That’s not very Christmas-like, little brother.”

“Stop calling me that.”

Mace couldn’t believe it. Why was she here? For that matter, why were all four of his sisters here? When exactly did hell come to Earth?

Dez turned away from him and leered at Missy. “Well, well. Missy Llewellyn. In my humble abode. I feel blessed.”

“As well you should,” Missy tossed arrogantly.

“How the hell did you even know to come here,” Mace snapped.

“Ah yes. Mrs. MacDermot contacted my secretary and said you’d be having Christmas dinner at her house. She felt since Christmas truly is the time for family, we should join all of you. And how could I turn that offer down?” She scrutinized her brother closely. “Glad to see you’re relatively unscathed after last night’s festivities.”

True. He could kill her, but that might put a damper on the gift-giving portion of the evening.

Missy then turned that penetrating gold gaze at Dez. “Nice outfit, Detective. Going undercover at a fetish club?”

Dez growled. “Why don’t you blow—” Mace wrapped his hand around Dez’s face again. Boy, when she went Bronx, she really went Bronx.

Rachel appeared behind Missy. “What’s the problem, Missy? Afraid your tiny tits couldn’t hold that top up?”

Dez glanced at Mace. He could read her easily now, and the fact that her sister suddenly jumped in to protect her from evil Missy—that might be too much of a shock for his hardened detective.

Missy spun around to glare at Rachel. “Well, I see you can take the girl out of the Bronx but you can’t get the Bronx out of the girl.”

Suddenly Lonnie appeared next to her older sister. “Wow. Look at the lines in your face, Missy. It’s like your bitterness just dug in and stayed.”

Allie, Mace’s second oldest sister, stood next to Missy. “Well, I heard you’d become a prosecutor, Lonnie. It must be really hard to try and convict all your ex-boyfriends.”

Rachel and Lonnie looked at each other while Mace’s two other half-sisters went to stand beside Missy and Allie.

No. This really couldn’t be good.

Dez pulled away from Mace. “I’m gonna go get out of these clothes before any blood gets on ’em.”

She headed up the stairs. The elder MacDermot came back into the room, a toddler in his arms. An old-school Marine, tough as nails, and still sporting his high-and-tight haircut. Marine tattoos on both of his forearms. Pride for his brood, written all over the man’s face. Even though, at the moment, the two sister teams were getting into a rather ugly confrontation that made Mace feel like a fourteen-year-old all over again.

“Those are some tough women.”

Mace nodded. “Sorry about my sisters, sir.”

“No reason to apologize. Dez can’t control Lonnie and Rachel and notice she doesn’t try.”

“That’s cause she’s brilliant.”

Gray eyes with dark green flecks turned to stare at Mace. “Do you really care about my daughter, Llewellyn?”

Barely realizing he did it, Mace’s hands went behind his back. His legs braced apart. Being around the man made him feel like he still needed to report to his C.O. before the night ended. “Yes, sir. More than I’ve cared about anything.”

“Good. Because she’s special. All my daughters are, of course. But Dez…Dez is…”

“I know, sir.” Mace looked him in those eyes that were exactly like his daughter’s. “I really do. I’ve always known.”

MacDermot seemed to relax a bit as he nodded. “Good.” He took in a deep breath, like he’d prepared himself for a fight. “Oh, and could you let Dez know I locked all her guns away in the safe in her closet upstairs.”

Mace winced. They’d both forgotten about the weapons she kept stashed around the house and with kids around…“We forgot.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know each and every place my daughter hides her guns. Hell, I gave her most of ’em.”

The older man gave a big grin, hugging the little boy in his arms tightly and walking back toward the kitchen.

The fight kept growing. This could easily turn ugly. But Mace had other things on his mind. Besides, he’d seen Dez’s mother in action. If things turned bad, he had no doubt the tiny female could and would kick some ass.

Knowing that, Mace went up the stairs after his woman.

Dez tossed the sweatpants and Marine Corp sweatshirt she pulled out of her dresser on top of the closed toilet and looked at herself in the mirror. She shot a man without any warning. Faced off against hyenas and lions. But her family downstairs? That was making her break out in a rash.

Yet the weirdness hadn’t ended. Not only had her entire family taken over the first floor of her house, but she had Missy Llewellyn and her cretin sisters with her.

Christ, did she really care enough about Mace to put up with those bitches?

what? are you kidding? of course you do, you idiot!

Dez smiled at herself in the mirror. Man, could she be more pathetic? Her eyes shifted to the right and that’s when she saw Mace standing behind her. She jumped. “Would you stop doing that!”

“I didn’t do anything.”

She sighed. True, he hadn’t. And it would be hard to tell him to start stomping around her house because his creepy cat walk kept freaking her out.

She noticed he studied her shower closely, and for the first time in Desiree MacDermot’s life she asked a lover a question she swore she’d never ask. “What are you thinking?”

Of course, Dez’s question reeked of trepidation.

Mace shrugged as he examined her shower. “I’m wondering if this bathroom can be enlarged or if we should get another house.”

She grabbed him by his sweater and pulled him around so he had to look her in the eye. “Mace Llewellyn, we are not—”

He kissed her before she could get the rest of the sentence out of her mouth and slammed the bathroom door shut with his foot. She couldn’t remember what the hell she’d been planning to say. Instead, she let him roughly push her back toward the far wall, his mouth on hers, keeping Dez completely off balance.

Her jacket slid from her shoulders and to the floor. Mace released her mouth so he could kiss her neck. For a minute, she didn’t even realize he was unlacing her bustier.

“Mace. What are you doing?” The minute the man touched her, she asked the stupidest questions.

“Stripping you so I can fuck you.”

Of course, Mace always gave the most straightforward answers. Delicious answers. If only her entire family wasn’t right downstairs. And his!

“We can’t.”

“Yes. We can. Just to take the edge off. We just have to be a little quiet. So no yelling.”

“You’re not exactly quiet either with that freakin’ roar.”

“You love my roar.” Dammit! He was purring again. Right up against her ear. Suddenly, she couldn’t get out of her clothes fast enough.

She still had no idea what she did to him. The power she held over him. But everything about her sent his feline senses into overdrive. Her smell. Her touch. The way her skin felt against his. That damn voice.

Just thinking about the little noises she made when he had his cock deep inside her made him crazy. Desperate. He forced her back against the wall, practically ripping the laces off the front of her bustier. Once he had it undone, he yanked it off her body, then dropped to his knees to tackle her jeans.

She’d already pulled his sweater off, tossing it into the empty shower. And now her hands roamed over his shoulders and through his hair. Her strong strokes across his flesh brought out the cat in him. His head grazed against her thighs as he pulled off her jeans and boots. He moved up her body slowly, rubbing himself against her the entire way. She growled and he purred back in response.

She undid his jeans, shoving them down past his hips. He pushed them down the rest of the way, snatching the condom he’d grabbed from the bedroom out of his pocket. He didn’t bother taking his jeans off, though. They both knew they were short on time. Her mother would serve dinner soon, but he would have this woman or die trying.

He slid the condom on and lifted her up. Immediately she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. Because they had no time for slow and easy, he kissed her and impaled her against the wall at the same time—her scream lost in his mouth. Already so wet for him, he realized that hadn’t been a scream of pain.

Mace stopped moving. He let himself feel her body against his. Her pussy tight around his cock. God, she felt so good.

Fuck. The families can wait.

Dez pulled out of their kiss. “What? What is it?”

He shook his head as he leaned against her. “Nothin’, baby.”

She cupped his chin with one hand, the other tangling in his hair. “Bullshit. Tell me what’s going on.”

He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her mouth. Then he rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for you, Desiree MacDermot.”

Dez was thankful Mace had her impaled against the wall like this. Otherwise, she might have bolted for the door. That would have been pure panic, though. She knew once the panic went away, she’d kick herself in the ass for running. She wanted Mace. Not just in her bed or inside her, but in her life.

Christ, she loved a cat.

Mace used his body to pin her against the wall while his hands moved over her face and throat. His hard cock still buried deep.

He waited for her. He wasn’t going to ask her to say how she felt, but Dez knew he needed to hear something.

Well, she wasn’t about to give him the ranch or anything. Short. Simple. And just enough to keep him happy until she’d successfully sorted through her feelings and decided how she wanted to proceed.

“You mean everything to me and I’m never letting you go.”

She closed her eyes. What the hell was she doing?

You idiot!

Mace pushed his fingers through her hair. “Open your eyes, Dez.”

“No.”

“Wuss.”

“Yup.” His grip tightened and it felt so freakin’ good.

“Look at me, woman.”

With a sigh, Dez opened her eyes. He smiled at her. The sweetest, warmest smile she’d ever seen. “That wasn’t exactly I love you…but I guess it will have to do.”

He kissed her as his hips slowly rocked into her. Slow and steady. Sure and confident. She groaned in his ear, and that seemed to set something off in him. His thrusts became stronger. Harder. She grinned. Her voice. Her voice made him crazy. Her body would definitely go, but her voice would last for years. Thank God.

“God, Mace,” she whispered in his ear, “you feel so good inside me. Don’t stop fucking me. Don’t ever stop fucking me.”

Yeah. That did it. With a growl born of pure lust, he pounded into her. So hard she could feel her orgasm tearing up through her body. Mace pushed her head against his shoulder seconds before she started screaming. She remembered they weren’t alone, so she bit into his flesh instead. But she came hard, forcing her teeth past flesh. She tasted blood in her mouth, but her body continued shaking as she came again and again.

Finally, Mace buried his head against her neck, biting his bottom lip so he only groaned as his body spasmed until completely drained.

For long quiet moments, they stayed locked together. Holding on to each other as if that was all that kept them upright.

Dez finally unclenched her teeth from his shoulder. She winced at the clear teeth marks she’d left behind. “Oh God, Mace. I’m sorry.”

He lifted his head and glanced at the wound. Then he grinned. “Let’s just call it your Christmas present to me.”

She frowned. What the hell is he talking about?

Their disappearance didn’t even raise an eyebrow with the two sister teams still going at it. Now, though, they’d moved on to politics.

Mace got downstairs first, fresh clothes on, his hair wet from a quick shower. And a nice clean bandage over his love bite. Dez had marked him and didn’t even know it.

He briefly thought about trying to stop the sisters from fighting, but then…wait…What the hell is that lovely smell? Is that turkey? His mouth watered as he walked past the bickering women and headed toward the dining room.

He found Dez’s mother putting homemade bread on the table. She smiled warmly at Mace as if she’d known him all his life.

“Don’t worry. There’s enough to feed you. I made an extra turkey.”

Mace laughed. “A whole turkey? Just for me?”

“You’re a growing boy. You need to eat. My daughter will learn.” Then she shoved him into a chair.

Cool. He had her mother and he’d win over the father. Now he simply had to convince Dez. And he would. All he had to do was purr. She practically came simply from the sound of it.

“And someone named Smitty called for you. I invited him over for dessert.”

Mace scratched his head to stop from laughing. “Um…you invited him for dessert—here?”

“Yes. Him and his family. Was that okay?”

“Mrs. MacDermot…that was wonderful.”

“Oh good.”

Dez’s mother bustled back into the kitchen as Dez walked into the room and sat down next to him.

“I can’t believe those bitches are still fighting.”

“My sister shouldn’t have messed with you in front of Rachel and Lonnie.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know how it is. It’s one thing if they pick on you. It’s another if some stranger does.”

Dez shrugged, her wet hair and sudden shyness reminding him of the girl she used to be. “I guess.”

Dez’s mother moved back into the room. She smiled sweetly, then bellowed out the door. “Dinner!”

Mace blinked. For a tiny woman, she sure had a set of lungs.

Dez’s father walked in, four children with him. He helped them get in their seats as Dez’s sisters and his sisters stormed in. Still arguing.

“How can you believe for two seconds that will help the deficit?”

“I can’t believe a federal prosecutor is a bleeding-heart liberal.”

“I am not a liberal. I’m just not a Nazi.”

Mace leaned over to Dez. “How long will this last?” he whispered in her ear, enjoying the shudder that rippled through her body.

They watched the women and the rest of the family. The fighting women ignored Lonnie and Rachel’s husbands. The men were helping their kids settle in instead. Even helping with Missy and Allie’s cubs. His sisters ignored everyone else in the room except Lonnie and Rachel.

“At least through second helpings. But I don’t think it will last through pie.” Her eyes widened. “Oh God. I forgot pie.”

Her mother came out with more side dishes. “Don’t worry. I bought pie. I knew you’d forget.”

Dez glared at her mother. He knew that look. Any second now she’d say something that would upset her mother and ruin his Christmas dinner. So to prevent that, he slipped his hand between her thighs under the table.

She squeaked, causing everyone to look at her. Then, to play it off, she coughed. “Sorry. I’m getting a bit of a cold.”

“I keep telling you, you don’t dress warmly enough,” her mother chided as Dez desperately tried to pry his hands off her crotch. But he wasn’t letting go. At least, not until the turkey arrived. For good measure, he slid his middle finger against her sweatpants right where her clit would be. Her coughing became worse.

“Dear God,” Missy snapped. “Would someone give that girl water before she breaks a blood vessel?”

Wow. It was humanly possible for six women to argue for two hours straight. Dez had no idea. She didn’t argue that long with people. If she got that upset, she usually ended up hitting them or arresting them. But her sisters and Mace’s were still at it. They’d moved on to other topics, but you would have thought they were arguing over things they could actually control.

Smitty and his Pack showed up just in time for pie and more arguing. Apparently invited by her mother. At that point, things got really interesting when Sissy Mae and her girls joined in. Still, not being the focus of attention for her sisters did make that pecan pie go down real easy.

When she thought the night couldn’t get any more interesting, Sal, Jim, and Vinny showed up. She forgot she invited them over days earlier to get their gifts, but they were also smart enough to apologize and look slightly ashamed. Eventually Bukowski, his wife, and their kids showed up. Apparently still feeling pretty guilty about crashing her and Mace’s party the previous day, he had wine for both of them. She was really proud Mace didn’t comment on the vintage. Although she saw his opinion in his gold eyes.

Suddenly Dez’s house had filled up with a bunch of people and Mace. A week ago, Dez had every intention of working all day and making herself a frozen turkey potpie for dinner. She smiled. She’d never admit it out loud, but this was way better.

From the kitchen, she watched the crazy bitches while she and Mace washed the dishes so her mother didn’t have to. As her sisters squared off with Mace’s, who was in the middle of it? Sissy Mae. No wonder Dez liked her. She was a fellow instigator.

“Wow, Missy. Are you going to let her talk to you like that?” Sissy pushed. “I mean unless you’re scared of her or something…”

“I am not scared of anyone!”

Dez wondered how long she should wait before she stepped in when Mace’s hand slid across hers in the water. He kept doing that. Whenever her mother turned her back, Mace found a way to touch her or outright kiss her. Something so cute and innocent about his actions. Especially since just yesterday the man had fucked her senseless on her dining room table.

“All right you two,” her mother cheerily chastised. “Cut that out.”

Mace pulled away from Dez. He was so adorable around her mother. Always treating her with the utmost respect.

“Sorry, Mrs. MacDermot.”

“Silly boy. I didn’t mean that. I mean leave those dishes. Those arguing women can finish. You two go outside and get some air.” Dez’s mother winked at her. “It’s getting too hot in here.”

“Mom!”

Mace didn’t wait for another invitation. He dried off their hands and dragged her past their agitated siblings and out of the house onto the porch. He stepped back inside, grabbed her leather jacket and a plastic bag. He helped her put on the jacket, sat in one of the chairs, and pulled Dez onto his lap.

She watched her three friends talking with Smitty in her driveway. She had a feeling they would be joining forces with Mace and Smitty. Not that she minded. She couldn’t think of anyone she trusted more. Especially if they ever needed to protect Mace.

“I got you a Christmas present.”

Dez’s head snapped around. “Mace, you didn’t—”

“Here.” He cut her off and handed her a wrapped package. “I got you one thing, but I gave it to Sissy Mae. I think you’ll like this more.”

“Thank you.” She kissed him and then pulled the wrapping paper off. Her eyes immediately filled with tears. The man actually listened to her. He heard her.

“The Cops 3-Pack,” she whispered in awe.

“If I had more time I would have checked to see if they had any other DVDs, but these were the three I found. You don’t already have them, do you?”

“No,” she lied. She’d burn her copies tomorrow. These meant much more. “I didn’t get you anything.”

Missy suddenly burst out the front door and was down the steps when the word chicken flew at her from inside the house.

Missy spun around and marched back up the stairs. “That’s it, Old Yeller! This is between you and me now!”

Smitty ran into the house after her. Vinny, Sal, and Jim following, probably hoping to catch sight of a little girl-on-girl catfight. Twisted perverts.

Mace grinned at her. “Merry Christmas to me.”

Dez laughed as Mace took off her old Guess watch. “Here. Wear this every once in a while, too. You know, like, every day. So you’ll think about me when you’re on duty.”

Like she could ever not think about him. She watched as he put a nice stainless steel watch on her wrist. Big and heavy, definitely designed for a man. But she liked big male watches.

When she finally took a good look, she openly gawked at it, then at Mace. “Mace. This is a Breitling.” Stainless steel her ass. More like titanium. She’d seen enough counterfeits to recognize the real thing.

She did keep forgetting the man was rich.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got others.” Wildly rich, apparently.

“But why do you want me to wear it?”

“Because I want everyone at your precinct to know you belong to me.”

Dez shook her head. “I’m surprised you don’t want to tattoo ‘Property of Mace Llewellyn’ across my fuckin’ forehead.”

He looked away from her, clearing his throat, and settling her more firmly on his lap. “Uh…why would I want to do that?”

Before she could say anything beyond “thank you” or “you’ve already thought about doing that, haven’t you,” Mace pulled her close into his chest and held on to her. She relaxed against him and allowed herself to just be. Kind of a new feeling for her. She was usually doing something. Kicking somebody’s ass. Taking somebody’s name. But on this chilly Christmas night, she just wanted to sit with her…what? Boyfriend? Lover? House cat? Well, whatever…she just wanted to sit with her Mace and enjoy her life.

“You cold?”

She snuggled up closer to him. “Not at all. You?”

“Not with your hot little body next to me.”

She’d never heard anyone use the words hot and little when discussing her body. But, hell, she would accept it for what it was. A Christmas miracle!

She heard her front door open and the nails of her dogs scrambling across the wood of her porch. She winced. She really needed to trim their nails. You shouldn’t be able to hear your dogs coming a mile away because of their toenails.

She glanced back and watched as her father leashed them up. “Watcha doin’, Daddy?”

“Taking these beasts for a walk.” Her father liked her dogs, but he’d never really offered to take them for a walk before.

“Is it getting a little too much for you in there?”

He shrugged. “Something like that.” He tied several plastic bags to one of the leashes. “I won’t be long. As soon as your mother is done clearing up, I’ll get them out of here.” He smiled at Dez. Then glared at Mace. “You take care of her, boy. I’d really hate to have to kill you.”

“Daddy!”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good.”

The old man walked down the stairs of Dez’s porch, her huge dogs calmly walking beside him. Instinctively knowing not to rush the seventy-year-old man.

“I don’t believe you two.”

Mace stretched like the big cat he was, Dez still on his lap. “It’s a male thing. So I don’t want you to worry your pretty little head about it.”

Dez growled. “I’m not going to argue this with you now. But tomorrow, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Mace happily ran his hands over Dez’s body. Even with all the clothes she had on, she still immediately responded to his touch. God, he loved that.

“So, I’m still going to be around tomorrow, huh?”

“I guess. The dogs seem to like you.”

“Yeah. I was starting to notice that.”

“Well, what did you expect when you insist on feeding them under the table?”

Mace ducked his head a bit. “Saw that, did you?”

“It’s the cop thing. I’m paid to detect those sorts of goings-on.”

“So…how long those dogs of yours going to want me around for?”

“I don’t know. Let’s not worry about it. We’ll see how things are in the New Year.”

He could work with that. “Sounds good. New Year it is.”

Dez grabbed one of his hands and rubbed her fingers over it. After several minutes narrowed gray eyes locked onto him.

“Okay. Which New Year are we talking about exactly?”

Mace grinned and shrugged. “Well I didn’t know I had to be specific. But any New Year thirty or forty years from now would be good.”

“Tricky cat.” Dez turned and wrapped her arms around his waist, her face buried in his neck. She became still, her breath against his throat. She was thinking. He could feel it.

“What’s up, Desiree?”

“Just thinking about what’ll happen when I go back to work.”

“I wondered when you’d start worrying about that.”

“I put in a lot of hours.”

“I know.”

“I’m always on call. I handle most of the big cases.”

“I know.”

She pulled away from him just enough to look at his face. “Okay. So you know. The question is…are you going to be able to deal?”

“Remember what you said to me the first night we were together?”

“‘Prove it’?”

Mace chuckled. “No. When I had you against the door.”

“Oh.” She nodded. “Yeah. I said, ‘If you let me go now, I’m going to blow your brains out’.”

He ran his hand across her thighs, then between them. “Well, it’s the same deal, baby. I have no intention of letting you go.” Her back straightened as he nestled his hand against her crotch. As always, she was hot and wet. Just for him. “So you might as well stop worrying about it. Besides, the shit Smitty and the team will get into, we’ll need a cop on the inside.”

Her eyes closed, she let him rub his fingers against her. “So, you’re just using me…like a whore?”

“Yup. As often as I can.”

“Okay. I was only checking.” He adjusted his fingers and he must have hit a sweet spot because she almost came off his lap. He pulled her tight against him, her head nuzzling his throat, his other hand still playing between her thighs.

What a freakin’ great Christmas.

“God, Mace,” she whispered against his throat. “You better…you better stop.”

“No way. I wanna give you a taste of what’s going to happen to you tonight…all night.” And for the next forty years.

As her body tightened around his hand, Mace realized their separation for so many years had been necessary. They needed to go off and do their own thing, become the people they now were. They needed it so when they got here, they knew it was where they belonged. Where they would always belong.

Dez gripped him tight, her mouth biting into his neck. “Oh God, Mace,” she whispered hotly against his throat. “God…fuck. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Mace had to bite his tongue to stop laughing. Man, he really loved hearing her come. Even when she whispered it.

Oh yeah. He belonged here. For the rest of his life. It took him a long time to get here. And he had no intention of going anywhere ever again. This woman was his. Forever.

Even if that meant he had to put up with those goddamn dogs.