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Authors: Shelly Laurenston

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Paranormal, #General

Big Bad Beast (13 page)

BOOK: Big Bad Beast
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“You better have said no.”
“I did,” he confessed. “I did . . . but maybe I should have—”
“No, Ric.”
“But—”
“No.”
“But maybe if I invest in this ridiculous restaurant idea he has, I can . . .”
“What? Undo your father’s decision to steal from his own Pack? Do you really think that by giving that man money, you’ll be changing
anything
?”
Ric shrugged, because he really didn’t know the answer to that question. Or did he?
“It won’t,” Adelle told him flatly. “And you know that, Ric. Without me telling you.”
“Yes,” he forced himself to admit. “I know. But I’ll go over the books one more time before I say anything to Uncle Van. Make sure I didn’t miss anything.”
“You didn’t.”
“I want to make sure.”
“Fine. But it won’t change anything, Ric. You simply can’t rescue everybody.” She eyed him. “And that includes idiot young pups who thought they’d be high rollers in Vegas.”
“Atlantic City,” he corrected her, knowing she was complaining about seeing Stein washing dishes at the restaurant.
“Whatever. I can’t believe you gave that brat a job.”
“You didn’t see what the bears did to him.”
“I don’t care what the bears did to him.”
“Adelle.”
“He probably deserved it.”
“Adelle.”
“He gave me the finger when he left. I should have taken that finger and shoved it up his—”
“Adelle!”
“What do you mean no?”
Halfway through her lunch burger, Dee looked up from her plate and across the diner booth to her cousin Sissy Mae and Sissy Mae’s second in command, Ronnie Lee. While Sissy stared at her, Dee continued to chew her food and stare back.
“Well?” Sissy pushed.
Dee swallowed her food, wiped her mouth, and replied, “What do I mean no about what?”
“About July Fourth weekend.”
“What about it?”
“We’re all going to Bren’s house in Macon River Falls.”
“Yeah?”
“And I invited you to come.”
“Yeah?”
“And you said no.”
“Well, Sissy Mae, that’s the beauty of the invite—you can turn it down.”
Her cousin’s eyes narrowed and Dee could already see this was not going to be an easy conversation, which she found mighty irritating since she’d gotten off early. With Desiree, Malone, and Dee using their contacts to track down a hybrid fight, there was nothing to do but wait. Desiree had headed home to her son, Malone back to the KZS office that was in some secret location no one was supposed to know about—they were in Queens and had been for the last forty years—and Dee had wanted a nice, quiet lunch at her favorite diner with nothing but a burger, extra crispy fries, and one of her favorite Agatha Christie books. She liked ol’ Aggie. True, the mysteries and the scandalous activities of some of the characters may seem tame by today’s standards, but Dee enjoyed the simplicity and straight-forwardness of the stories. She got enough bloodbaths from her daily work, she didn’t need it in her leisure reading.
“That’s true,” her cousin said, “you can turn down my generous offer—”
“How is it
your
generous offer when it’s Brendon’s house?”
“—but you
shouldn’t
turn it down.”
“Why?”
Sissy sighed, long and loud. Like the weight of the world rested on those big She-wolf shoulders. “Dee-Ann, darlin’, I am trying to make you more part of the Pack.”
“I am part of the Pack.”
“True, but you don’t act like you’re part of the Pack.”
“I’m there when you need me. What more do you want?” Dee caught the wrist of the She-wolf reaching from behind her to grab a fry off her plate. “Do you wanna keep this hand, Dolly Mae?”
Her young cousin, a new recruit to the New York Pack, said, “I just wanted a fry, Dee-Ann.”
“I just wanted to eat in peace. Don’t look like that’s gonna happen either.”
“Can’t you share?” Sissy asked her.
“No.” She released her cousin’s wrist, ignoring her when she began to rub it.
These weak sub-adults. Grow a spine already.
“Look, when I became part of this Pack, Bobby Ray promised me that I wouldn’t be hemmed in.” She glanced around at the group of She-wolves now surrounding her. Some in the booth behind Sissy and Ronnie, some standing next to the table, and some in the booth behind her. Like Dolly Mae . . . who was still trying to get her fries. “I’m feelin’ hemmed.”
“No one’s trying to hem you in,” Sissy argued. “God forbid anyone try and hem in Dee-Ann Smith. But you can’t bond with your Pack if you’re not part of it.”
“I’m part of it. You need me, I’m there. Otherwise, don’t bother me.”
“Dee-Ann . . .” Sissy began. But, sick of Dolly Mae and her sneaky fingers, Dee caught hold of her hand and gripped it until she heard bones crack . . . and break. The She-wolf whimpered, sounding all sorts of pitiful until Dee flung her hand away.
Slowly, she looked back at her cousin. “You were sayin’, Sissy Mae?”
Another dramatic sigh, accompanied with a sad head shake. “See?” she asked. “You need my help more than you ever realize.”
Dee picked up her book. “Actually, what I need is for you to fuck—”
“Lunch!” Ronnie Lee cut in. “We haven’t had lunch yet.” She motioned to the waitress. “Let’s get lunch since we’re already here. You don’t mind if we join you, do you, Dee-Ann?”
“Well—”
“Good!”
One of Ronnie Lee’s cousins snatched Dee’s book from her hand. “Watcha readin’?”
“Reading’s boring,” another cousin complained. “Why read it when you can just watch it on TV?”
Dee crossed her eyes and resigned herself to “Pack time” as her momma always liked to call it. Of course, when she would say “Pack time,” Dee’s daddy would follow that up with a walk to his favorite shotgun followed by his favorite saying, “Guess it’s time to start the killin’.”
If only . . .
Ric walked into his kitchen an hour after lunch service had ended. Adelle was finishing out her shift and laughing at something Stein said while the kid pulled a couple of sizzling steaks from the grill. Standing behind him, arms crossed over his chest, Ric waited until the kid turned around—and fell back against the ovens.
“Uh . . . Ric. Hi. Uh . . . I was just . . . uh . . . making something to eat for Adelle.” Ric stared at Stein, but didn’t say anything. It was a trick he learned from Dee-Ann and he’d found it was quite effective. Kind of like now.
“She said it was okay . . . and I thought she needed something to eat after all that time working.... It was so busy in here . . . and everyone did a great job . . . and . . . and . . .” Stein winced. “My head’s hot.”
Ric finally spoke, “Because it’s resting against one of the oven doors.”
Stein stood tall, pulling his head away and shaking it. Good thing the door wasn’t open—he’d probably have fallen in. “Oh. Right.”
Ric glanced at the still-sizzling steaks on that single long plate. “That’s all for Adelle?”
Stein looked at the plate and back up at Ric. “Yeah. Sure. All for Adelle.”
“Then give it to her and get back to work. Those dishes won’t clean themselves.”
“Right. Absolutely.” He put the plate on the counter and scurried back to his sink full of dishes.
Going over the tickets from the lunch run, Adelle shook her head and laughed a little. “You’re being awfully hard on him.”
“I know.” Ric grabbed two forks and two steak knives and maneuvered the plate between them. “You said yourself he deserves worse.”
“From me. You’re the nice one.” She put her paperwork aside and took the fork and knife handed to her. They both cut off a piece of steak and took a bite. They chewed and gazed at each other.
Finally, Adelle announced, “That’s amazing.”
“Ssssh. Don’t tell him.”
“I mean . . .
amazing.

“Keep your voice down. I’m not done with him yet. No matter”—he took another bite of steak and groaned—“how damn good this is.”
They continued to eat in silence for several more minutes until Adelle asked, “So explain to me why you had a naked Dee-Ann Smith running around your apartment this morning?”
Ric somehow managed to swallow his food without choking on it and answered, “Uh . . . no reason?”
“What is it with you and Van and the weird-eyed girls?”
“Dee’s eyes aren’t weird. They gorgeous. I call them canine gold.”
“You always were an odd but self-contained child, Ulrich.”
“I love her,” he admitted. “I have since I met her.”
“I’m not even going to argue with you about this because the Van Holtz men have the most disturbing taste in women since our first known ancestor, Eberulf the Goat Killer married Himiltrud the Hideous. And clearly you’re no different.”
Ric thought on that a moment and then asked, “Our first ancestor was a
goat
killer?”
“Ulrich . . . the man had to eat.”
Dee spit the liquid back in the bottle and glared at Rory Lee. “What is this?”
“Non-alcoholic beer.”
“You
dare
give this to me?”
“That’s all they have.” Rory sat back in the booth of the karaoke bar they were in and asked, “Why are you here again?”
“Because my cousin’s torturing me.”
“Sometimes you have to pretend to be part of the Pack, darlin’. So when you’re old and grey, they won’t rip your throat out because you’re toothless.”
“That’s lovely. Thank you.”
He leaned in a bit and sniffed her. “You’ve got strange wolf on you.” His eyes narrowed. “Who you been fuckin’?”
“Rory Lee Reed! You speak to me proper!”
“All right.” He lowered his voice several octaves and said, “Who you been fuckin’?”
Dee grinned. “Ric Van Holtz.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but don’t tell.”
“Why? You ashamed?”
“Nope. Just seems more dirty that way.”
“You and your dirty fetish.”
“Can’t help it . . . turns me on.”
“Ew.”
“Besides,” Dee went on, “you can’t tell anyone because once Ronnie Lee knows everyone will know.”
“Including your daddy.”
“And Ric is just so damn pretty, it would be a right shame to see him all . . .”
“Eviscerated?”
She sighed. “You do know how Daddy likes to eviscerate.”
“He does have a skill.”
“A man has to know his strengths.”
“So do you like him?”
Frowning, “I love Daddy.”
“Not him. Van Holtz. Do you like Van Holtz?”
“Oh.” Dee thought a moment, then answered, “Yep.”
“And?” he pushed.
“And what?”
“Ain’t ya gonna gush about him or somethin’?”
“Gush? Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?”
“Sorry. For a minute there I thought you were a girl, but then I remembered that you’re just sleeping with one.”
“Don’t be jealous ’cause you don’t look like a supermodel, too. Not everybody can be that pretty.”
They focused on the stage and Dee demanded, “What in hell are we listening to?”
“A lion male singing ‘Sweet Home Alabama.’ ”
“Ya see?” she asked her friend. “Daddy was right.”
And together they said, “Time to start the killin’.”
C
HAPTER
13
 
R
ic sat at his kitchen table, working on ideas for the next day’s menu based on what product he knew would be coming into the restaurant that morning and what they had left over that was still fresh. He enjoyed doing this, coming up with new ideas, pulling out old ones, turning them into a cohesive whole that worked with their standard cuts of meat. So focused on his menu, he didn’t know he wasn’t alone until Dee slammed down a plate of angel food cake onto the table and dropped into the chair beside him.
“Hello.”
“Hey,” she replied while . . . well, while pouting.
“Something wrong?”
“Just tired.”
“No more problems with Malone?”
“Not today. Tomorrow, of course, is another story.”
“Make it work, Dee-Ann.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She glanced at him. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
She snorted. “You’re a bad liar.”
“And you’re not just tired.”
Dee toyed with her dessert plate. “Do you ever wonder sometimes what it would be like to be a nice, solitary cat, without all the Pack fuss?”
“Not really.” Ric picked up her fork and lifted a piece of cake to her mouth. “All those hairballs and obsession with yarn. Plus, I just don’t know how to do that thing they do.”
“What thing?” she asked before opening her mouth so he could feed her the cake.
“That arch look of disdain they all have about absolutely
everything
. Let’s be honest, Dee. It’s a skill canines simply lack.”
She could tell something was bothering him, but she wouldn’t push him if he didn’t want to talk about it. Nothing irritated her more than people pushing her when she wasn’t in the mood to be pushed. Instead, she ate the cake he fed her.
“I’m glad you came back,” Ric told her, lifting another forkful to her mouth.
“So am I.” She grinned. “Because you’re lookin’
sexy
.”
“I’m not a whore, Dee-Ann. You can’t just come here to use and abuse me before going on your merry way. Unless, of course, you’re naked.”
“Still not bored with that yet?”
“Never.”
“Most males are scared off by my scars.”
“Even wolves?”
“There’s a difference between survival scars and ‘I kill for a living’ scars. And wolves with half a brain can tell them apart.” She took the fork from him and proceeded to feed him several pieces of cake.
“Does your father have a lot of scars?” he asked between bites.
“Not as many as mine. Daddy was not one for the close-up kill unless you really pissed him off.”
“But you enjoy more . . . direct engagement?”
“I can kill from a distance like anyone else with my training, but that don’t always feel right to me. I’d rather know when my end is coming. I’d rather look it in the eye. Tell it ‘How do ya do?’ To those who deserve it, I try and do the same thing. For those who don’t . . . they get whatever’s comin’.” She suddenly smirked a little at the expression on his face. “Am I making you nervous, Van Holtz?”
Ric shook his head. “Not really.” He took the fork from her fingers and placed it on the table. Then he gently gripped her hand and lowered it to his groin, pressing it against the bulge he had eagerly pulsating against his zipper.
Dee swallowed and admitted, “You’re a strange boy, Ulrich Van Holtz.”
“Am I making
you
nervous now?”
Her hand turned so she could more easily grip his groin with her fingers, the denim between them making it more erotic. “Nah. You are making things a bit more interesting, though. Fancy boy like you, gettin’ all turned on by a hard-hearted bitch like me.”
His hands slipped into her hair, fingertips massaging her scalp. He stared into her face and said, “Your heart isn’t hard, Dee-Ann. It’s strong and maybe encased in a ribcage made of granite, but it’s not hard. Far from it.”
“You think you know me so well, do ya?”
His lips were inches from hers now and all she wanted was a kiss from those sweet lips, especially with that bit of cake icing waiting to be licked off. “Every day I learn something new about you. And every day I like you more and more.”
“Yep,” she teased. “Strange.” Then she kissed him and realized that every day, she was growing to like this wolf more and more, too.
Kissing Dee-Ann was becoming addictive. And not just because she tasted like Jean-Louis’s angel food cake, but because she
was
addictive. And delicious. And amazing. She had a way of soothing him without even trying, her presence alone easing him . . . even when she grabbed his T-shirt and hauled him out of the chair. She was always a little rough with him—and he liked it. Because it told Ric how hungry she was for him. How much she wanted him.
It was Dee’s coldness that scared others. The way she could snap a human spine without raising her heart rate was what made her such a dangerous female. But for Ric it was the knowledge that he was seeing the warm-blooded side of his She-wolf. He knew he confused her, sometimes irritated her, sometimes made her smile, but being able to turn her on absolutely made his day.
Dee stepped away and quickly removed the holsters for her gun and knife, placing them on the kitchen counter. She pulled off her T-shirt, unhooked her bra, tossing them aside while walking backward out of the kitchen, her eyes on him. She crooked her finger at him and Ric followed her, yanking his T-shirt over his head and throwing it over his shoulder while she went to his bedroom. By the time he walked in, she had stripped herself naked, pressing her body against his. Their arms encircled each other, their mouths meeting, tongues seeking.
Ric lifted Dee up, carrying her over to the bed. He lowered her to the mattress, kissing her neck, her collarbone. Once they were on the bed, she shoved him onto his back, straddling his waist with her strong and deliciously long legs. Licking her lips, she pressed her mouth to his chest, kissing her way down his body until she reached his jeans. She unzipped them, stepping off the bed long enough to tug them down and pull them off. Then Dee’s hands were brushing up the inside of his thighs. Ric groaned when her mouth followed, her tongue easing against his flesh, fangs scraping against his muscles. By the time her mouth wrapped around his cock, Ric had dug his hands into her hair, his back arching off the bed.
So many nights he’d dreamed about this, prayed for it even, but to have Dee-Ann Smith deep-throating his cock was more than he could have hoped for. Especially when she seemed to enjoy the giving as much as the taking.
Dee heard the catch in Ric’s throat, the way his fingers tensed in her hair, the way every one of his muscles tightened under her body. His reaction made her body hot, made her slip two fingers inside her pussy, and start stroking herself in time with each suck of Ric’s cock. When he came, she came with him, her fingers buried deep inside her.
Ric lifted her head, his hands shaking. She only had a moment to give a little gasp before Ric was kissing her hard, his fingers digging deep into her scalp. She felt his desperation in that kiss, the taste of him still on her lips, in her mouth. He didn’t seem to care.
Lord, she’d never had a man react to her like this. Like he couldn’t get enough of her. It was strange and delightful and almost cruel because how could this go on? This was just for fun, wasn’t it? Just a diversion while Dee dealt with a tough job. Nothing more, nothing less. But . . . but who was she kidding?
She was stupidly falling for a Van Holtz. The enemy wolf of her Pack. Her daddy hated Van Holtzes the way Dee hated the taste of zebra. Since she could crawl he’d been warning her about staying away from them, never trusting them, and outright killing them if they got too close.
Well . . . how could the man be any closer? He’d pushed her onto the bed and had buried his face into her pussy, licking and sucking his way into her heart. Turning her inside out, making her come again.
It just wasn’t fair. How was she supposed to fight this? And, as she came all over his face, her entire body writhing on his giant bear-sized bed, she wasn’t real sure anymore she wanted to fight this.
Because, in the end, the man did make a hell of a waffle....
“Thought you were sleeping,” she complained when he bent her knees up and to the side, and took his time entering her, groaning at the heat that wrapped around him, shuddering at the muscles that squeezed him.
“I woke up,” he said into her neck. “And you didn’t look busy.”
“Such a horny wolf,” she growled, her arms reaching out for him.
“I am, but that’s your fault.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
She didn’t believe him, but she should. Because no female he’d been with had ever managed to make him wake up every few hours with an intense need to be back inside her, taking her like he was taking Dee now. It was hard to believe she didn’t see it or feel it. The intensity between them. And even when she griped with that annoyed-sounding “Again?” she still responded to his touch, to his cock, to him. She panted beneath him, sweat glistening on her body as if the air conditioning wasn’t going full blast all around them.
Dee turned her face toward him and he took her mouth, kissing her hard, enjoying every moment he was inside her.
Reaching between her legs and stroking her until Dee came again, Ric followed her over.
Afterward, as they lay there, Ric’s arms wrapped around her and holding her close, he asked, “If I asked you to a charity dance thing, you’d immediately turn me down, wouldn’t you?”
“Faster than you can say, ‘Dee-Ann . . . what are you doin’ with that gun?’ ”
They both laughed, Ric kissing the back of her neck. “What about the July Fourth weekend then? I’m purposely avoiding the yearly family event since I usually spend the aftermath apologizing for something my father said or did. I’d much rather spend the time with you.”
“Can’t,” she said, rubbing his arm. “If I’m not working, I’ll be dealing with the kin. A few Pack events throughout the year usually keeps ’em off my back the rest of the time and Sissy made it clear she wanted me at this one.” She glanced at him. “But if it makes you feel better, I’d much rather spend that weekend with you, too.”
“That does make me feel better.” He kissed her cheek. “We’ll have to pick another weekend then. I want you to see the new house I bought out on the Island.”
“How much property do you have anyway?”
“Enough so that if I’m ever forced out of the Pack, I’ll have ample places to stay.”
“Your Pack do that a lot to its own?”
“The Pack as a whole . . . no. My father?” He shrugged, not really wanting to talk about him when he was having the time of his life with Dee. Although, he’d never felt safer talking about the man except with Lock.
“Don’t worry,” she teased. “If you ever need a place to stay, there’s this apartment you can share with a lovely family I know. If you don’t mind beady red eyes.”
He glared down at her. “That’s not funny, Dee-Ann,” he said while she laughed. “Vermin is
never
funny.”
BOOK: Big Bad Beast
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