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?”