She looked down at the sweatshirt he’d put on her. “I think this is the first time you’ve ever insisted I put on clothes.”
“Don’t want you to catch the sniffles, my spun-glass princess.”
Grinning, Dee got to her knees and crawled into Ric’s lap.
“Dee-Ann, you’re not planning to take advantage of me out here . . . in the open?”
“Of course, I am. I’m a Smith. We’re tacky like that.”
“Not tacky . . . inventive.”
She kissed him, stroking her hands down his bare shoulders and chest. She really didn’t know if she’d ever get tired of the taste of him. Like one of his New York strip steaks with that peppercorn sauce he made, the man simply tasted good. What did those chefs always say? “Simple, fresh ingredients make the best meals”? Yeah, that was Ulrich Van Holtz. Simple, fresh, and the best meal a girl could have if she was lucky. And apparently Dee-Ann was damn lucky.
She reached for the waistband of Ric’s jeans. “Lord, please tell me that you remembered to bring condoms with you.”
“I actually didn’t remember, but when I told Uncle Van I was coming out here to find you, he forced a handful on me and said, ‘For the love of all that’s holy do this for me!’ ” Ric nipped at Dee’s neck, licked her collar bone. “I’m not sure what he meant, though.”
“I don’t care what he meant.” Dee gripped Ric’s shoulders and shoved him to the ground. “Although I appreciate his ability to plan for the inevitable.”
Dee got Ric’s jeans unzipped and he’d kicked off his sneakers. She lifted her weight off him enough for him to pull the worn denim and his boxer briefs down to his knees. When he’d done that, she dropped back on top of him and let him yank the sweatshirt over her head.
Big, talented hands stroked her flesh while Dee took his mouth with her own. She pressed her hips against him, her pussy becoming wet and desperate. The two of them writhing, groaning.
Ric suddenly pushed her up. “Get that condom on me, Dee-Ann. Now.”
She snatched the condom he’d pulled from the back pocket of his jeans and tore it open. She rolled it down his cock and gripped the solid piece of hot flesh. She lifted her hips and put him inside her, allowing her weight to drop down hard, his thick cock slamming into her. They both gasped, Dee’s body shaking, her nipples tingling.
Ric reached up to her, his hands stroking her face, her neck.
“I love you, Dee,” he told her. “Ever since the very first time I saw you, I’ve loved you.”
And that’s when she gripped his neck with her hand, fingers pressed against major arteries, her claws ready to unleash at any moment.
Yet Ric kept his gaze steady, never backing away from what she could do to him. “I love you,” he said again. And that’s when Dee leaned down, unleashed her fangs, and tore into Ulrich Van Holtz’s throat.
Ric barely stopped himself from coming the minute Dee’s fangs dug into his flesh.
Barely.
But he held on for her. Clutching her hips with his hands, he thrust his cock up inside her, taking what was his while she claimed what was hers.
When she unhinged her jaw and her fangs slid from his skin, Ric flipped her over onto her back and bit into a spot above her right breast. A scar-free space that he’d been eyeing to claim as his own ever since the first time he saw her in a low-cut tank top. She cried out, the sound bouncing off trees, nearby hunting wolf kin howling back at another Van Holtz male marking his female.
Ric lifted his head, Dee’s blood running down his chin, and continued to thrust hard inside her, until her body shuddered and seized around him, her pussy clamping down on his cock so hard he saw stars.
He kissed Dee-Ann, their blood, like their lives, mingling.
And when he finally came, knowing as only a wolf can know, that he’d found the female who was the perfect fit for him, who would be by his side from now until their lives on this physical plane ended, Ric didn’t think he could ever be happier.
They held each other, the world around them getting darker, but the moon all wolves loved shining down on them like it was blessing their union.
Then Dee, who rarely got “caught up in the moment” as some She-wolves were known to do, realized something.
“Oh, Lord,” she sighed, pushing Ric onto his back again and stroking his hair. “How in the world am I gonna tell my daddy?”
Ric kissed her throat before looking her in the eye. “We’ll tell him together.”
“Because you don’t think he’ll kill you right in front of me?”
“That’s a big part of it.”
“Jesus Christ!” Niles Van Holtz snarled, stumbling to a stop when he caught sight of them. “First off,” he snarled, pointing a damning finger. “Outside fucking isn’t done until after ten o’clock p.m. When all the Van Holtz pups have gone to bed.”
“Then you shouldn’t have given Ric the condoms,” Dee kindly explained.
“But I told him not to use them until after ten o’clock!”
“True,” Ric agreed, “but that would have ruined the mood.”
“Get in the house,” the older wolf ordered. “We’ve had something come up.”
Dee sat up and Ric’s cousin turned away from her. “What came up?”
“Can we talk about this inside while you’re wearing some clothes?”
“No.”
He let out a sigh. “Just got a call from Mace Llewellyn. It seems Missy isn’t our problem, but Matilda Llewellyn is. Their grandmother.”
“Sure he’s not just trying to protect his sister?”
“Yes. I’m sure. Now can we discuss this inside?”
“What’s there to discuss? I’ll head back to the city and kill the old bitch and—”
“No. You’re not handling this. I’m going to bring somebody else in for this job.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t Mace Llewellyn a friend of yours?” the older wolf demanded.
“We’re friendly.”
“You’re not handling this, Dee-Ann.”
“Still waitin’ for a why.”
“Because I said so,” Niles Van Holtz spit out between tightly gritted teeth.
“Look at you treatin’ me like family,” she teased.
“That’s it! Both of you get into the house, get washed up. You’re heading back to New York so you can handle something for me.”
“I’m killing somebody else?”
She watched the wolf take a deep breath, his cousin still buried deep inside her, Ric’s hands behind his head while he grinned up at her, Dee’s breasts still hanging out to God and everybody.
Honestly, she was having the best day.
Until Ric’s cousin looked at her and smiled in what was less than a friendly way. “In fact, Miss Smith, what you’ll be doing is extremely far from actual killing. But something tells me that it’s really going to hurt anyway.”
Nope. She didn’t like the gleam in the man’s eyes. But, to be honest, what concerned her more . . . if she or Malone weren’t doing this job—she just assumed they’d never ask Desiree to take it on—then who was?
Darla sat on her porch and stitched the pillow she was making for her Dee-Ann. It was too humid a night to sit in the house until she was ready to go to bed and it kept her busy. She needed to be busy at the moment because something was going on. Eggie had gotten a call on that cell phone of his that he never used and then he’d walked out of the house and gone hunting. That was a couple of hours ago and he hadn’t been back.
So Darla stitched and she waited.
Finally, she saw her mate lope toward the house, half a deer carcass in his mouth. He’d eaten the other half, but he always made sure to bring a little something home for her. Of course, she had a freezer full of perfectly good cow, but the gesture still meant something after all these years.