“Then eat the damn cake and call me Ric.”
“I’ll do what I want.”
“And what is that exactly? Do you even have a clue?”
“Yeah. I have a clue.”
“Then for God’s sake, do it already!”
Pissed off more than she could remember, Dee did exactly what Van Holtz suggested and “did it already” by wrapping her hand around the back of his neck, yanking him forward, and kissing him dead on the mouth.
Ric didn’t know what was happening. One second he was blindingly jealous of some oversized wolf who seemed to live his entire life being referred to as “one of the Reed boys” while wearing a myriad of baseball caps. And the next second . . .
He felt the anger in Dee’s kiss but Ric simply didn’t care. He’d been waiting way too long to kiss this She-wolf. Way too long to find out the depth and dimensions of this mouth, the heat. And to be quite blunt, Ric had grown tired of waiting.
With their mouths still fused together, Ric slid off the kitchen stool and caught hold of Dee around the waist with both hands, yanking her up and off her chair, pulling her in tight against his body. She groaned a little, her body jerking in surprise when Ric’s tongue dove in to her mouth.
God, she tasted perfect. Perfect for him.
The wolf inside him responded immediately, having already decided that Dee was the one for Ric as soon as they’d seen her amble into Lock’s hallway. Dirty, loose-fitting jeans hanging low on her hips, boots scuffing Lock’s hardwood floor, worn jacket that had seen better days hanging off a strong, powerful body.
Yet Ric fought the wolf’s need to make Dee-Ann his forever. He fought it because while his wolf ran on instinct and need, the man ran on logic and sense. Dee-Ann was not some female sitting around, waiting for her mate to show up. She was a wolf who didn’t like boundaries or limitations. She didn’t like feeling, to quote her, “hemmed in.” He knew that she didn’t automatically feel that a mate of her own meant she was trapped for eternity, but she did feel that she had to find the right mate. She had to find the one who understood that sometimes she’d wander off for no reason other than she needed some air. That she might disappear for days or weeks either to handle a job or because she needed to roam the forests and woods of the closest hunting ground. That she might stop talking for a few hours or days for no other reason than that she had absolutely nothing to say.
Any male who wanted to claim Dee-Ann as his own would have to understand these things—and Ric did. He understood these things about Dee-Ann and loved her more because of them. But he also knew she wasn’t ready to believe that Ric was the one for her. She wasn’t ready to grasp the depth of their connection yet.
In other words, she was going to be difficult to get. Not in his bed, but permanently in his life.
Faced with that realization, Ric quickly analyzed the situation, coming up with a big-picture question that would need to be answered. The question? How did a nice wolf-next-door lure the most dangerous She-wolf alive into his life for good? Astounding sex was the most immediate answer and, based on this kiss alone, Ric had no doubt that would be obtained with little effort on either of their parts.
Perhaps romantic declarations of love? Expensive gifts that sparkled? A whirlwind romance filled with exotic locals and high-end hotels complete with staff?
Heh. If Ric weren’t busy finding out how talented Dee was with her tongue, he’d laugh at that. All of it. Because none of those things mattered to Dee-Ann Smith. Words, money, glamour—to Dee, he might as well be speaking Cantonese. In fact, Ric was pretty sure doing any of that would only make his She-wolf run from him faster than a gazelle from a cheetah.
While his mind turned, he thought about the woman currently in his arms. This woman, this female, was a predator. A hardened predator that appreciated a meal more when it put up a fight. And that was true about Dee-Ann in every other facet of her life. She’d accept the easy meal, the half-eaten carcass lying in her path, waiting to be devoured. But that wasn’t nearly as fun as the moose calf hiding behind its pissed off mother.
No, if Ric merely bent Dee over the stainless-steel island in the middle of his kitchen, took her from behind, and told her she was his and they would be together forever, she’d laugh, take her orgasm, and go. He’d never see her again, even if he marked her with every fang in his head. He knew that with the same certainty as he knew how to breathe.
And that left only one option for the first phase of making Dee-Ann a permanent part of Ric’s life. A risky option Ric really didn’t want to take, but he had no choice. He wanted Dee forever, not just now, for tonight.
So Ric did the last thing he ever wanted to do.
He pulled away.
“Dee,” he forced himself to say around all that panting and a cock that was so hard it hurt and made it almost impossible to think straight. “We really shouldn’t be doing this.”
Yellow, predatory eyes watched him for a moment, her brain trying to wrap itself around the idea of a male, any male, stepping away from what she’d clearly been offering. First, it was confusion he saw in her eyes. Then, it was realization. But it wasn’t until those cold eyes narrowed the slightest bit, her gaze locking on Ric with an intensity that took his breath away that he understood something very important . . .
He was now running away simply so he could be caught.
CHAPTER 10
Dee had to admit she was damned confused. What was Ric doing? He was panting, had a hard-on, and looked ready to eat her alive. So why was he pulling away? Someone else might guess he didn’t want the good Van Holtz name sullied by having a Smith in his bed, but she knew that was not Ric’s way of thinking. This had nothing to do with money or lack of money or fancy names or any other prestige bullshit. Besides, who had to ever know? They were two people in this apartment, alone, and horny. It all seemed perfect to her but still . . . here was Ric, pulling away.
If she thought for a second he simply didn’t want her, she wouldn’t worry about it. She’d head off to bed and quietly masturbate. In her estimation it was one of the reason’s the Lord gave them all fingers—just for this scenario.
But he did want her.
So maybe he was shy? She’d known him quite a few months now and although he spent a lot of his time around other females, from what Dee could tell, he hadn’t put a move on any of them. Good, ol’ friendly Ric. Kind of funny since a good chunk of these women went after Van Holtz like a wild dog went after a tennis ball. Canines, felines, full-humans—they all went after Ric and that perfectly sculpted face. They all wanted him but none had been able to get him.
This was usually where Dee would assume that maybe Ric was gay. With a father like he had, she could totally understand the man hiding it. Yet that didn’t make sense either because more than once she’d looked over at him and found him peering at her like she was a piece of Japanese beef begging to be sautéed in one of his pans.
No. She felt pretty certain that being gay wasn’t the issue. Neither was Dee’s miniscule bank account and less-than-reputable family name.
So then . . . what?
Dee decided to ask. “We shouldn’t do this—why?”
Ric took a step back. “We work together, Dee.” Yet he was always trying to talk her into getting naked. Damn it, the man was confusing!
Dee took a step forward. “We’ll be discrete.”
He cleared his throat, took another step back. “I’m your supervisor. It would be grossly inappropriate of me to take advantage of our situation.”