The Mane Event Page 56


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

M ace 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.

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