The Mane Event Page 40

“Okay then. Of course that doesn’t leave much. I was in for fourteen years.”

She finally took a bite of the sandwich and now spoke around a mouth full of food. “Come up with something. You’re smart…” She looked him up and down. “Basically.”

“Okay.” He waited until she took another bite of food. “My sister tried to rip my throat out once.”

He pounded on her back to prevent her from choking. Eventually she swallowed and glared at him. “Don’t do that!”

“Sorry.”

She took a gulp of soda and leveled those gray eyes at him. “You know, your sisters are real bitches.”

“Yeah. I know.”

She went back to eating and talking simultaneously. “The worst thing my sisters did was hold me down and spit on me.”

Mace grimaced. “I think I’d rather have her rip my throat out.”

“There’s an upside to both.”

Mace watched Dez eat. He examined her long neck and strong body. Her arms well defined, probably from handling those two stupid but huge dogs. He noticed faded, jagged scars on her shoulder. Without thinking, he ran his forefinger across the indented flesh. “Where did you get these?”

Dez shrugged. “Baby.”

“A baby or your baby?”

Dez grinned around her sandwich. “Neither. The Baby. My first working dog. I was a dog handler in the Marines. Her name was misleading.” Mace guessed so when he made out at least a dozen puncture wounds on and around her shoulder.

“A dog handler, huh? Were you any good?”

“Nope. I was one of the best.”

“Yet who knew you were really a cat person at heart?”

“I’m not. I just tolerate you because you have exceptional thighs.”

Mace laughed. “So what happened with Baby?”

Dez swallowed a mouthful of food. “I’d only been working her about two weeks or so. I was pretty terrified of her, but I didn’t want to tell my sergeant because I didn’t want him to think I was weak or something.” She shrugged again. “One night I was putting Baby up in her run, I took this chewed up old ball from her…and she didn’t seem to appreciate that much. Next thing I know, she had me by the arm and had dragged my ass into the run with her. Then I woke up in the hospital, covered in bandages.”

“Jesus, Dez.”

“It’s the risk you take being a dog handler. You’re gonna get bit.”

“You were mauled.”

“Samey-same, G. I.”

“Did they put her down?”

“Nope. They blamed me. They were going to give her to another handler, but I wouldn’t let ’em. I was determined to train her ass myself. The other handlers suggested I take heron a Nature Walk. I thought about it, but I just couldn’t.”

“A Nature Walk?”

“Don’t ask.” She took another bite and spoke around the food. “Anyway, when I was done, we were the tightest team out there. I could control her off-leash with hand signals alone. Of course, no one could get near me. She protected me like you wouldn’t believe.”

Mace touched the faded scars again and goose bumps broke out over her flesh. “What happened to her?”

“Typical military bullshit. They gave her to another handler. New C.O. hated me. Bad move, though.”

“Why?”

“The next handler…she took his hand. Literally.”

“Charming.”

“Baby was all about the charm.”

He stared at the one-third left to her sandwich. “You done yet?”

“God, you’re pushy. I forgot how pushy you are.”

“No. That’s not pushy. But I can be pushy.” He took the rest of her sandwich and shoved it in his mouth. He chewed. Swallowed. “Now are you done?”

Dez bit back a smile. Mace Llewellyn. Always a royal pain in the ass. Now her royal pain. So she might as well enjoy it—and him—while it lasted.

Dez slid off the stool and stood in front of him. Gold and beautiful, the man could completely change his molecular structure with a thought. How cool is that?

“I’m still hungry, Mace.”

He sighed dramatically. “Fine. There’s a bag of chips on the counter.”

Dez shook her head while she undid his belt buckle. “Not good enough. I need a little more protein than that.”

Mace took a deep breath, watching her closely. “Oh.”

“That the best you can do, Llewellyn?”

“At the moment—yeah.”

“I see.” Dez unzipped his pants. As she dropped to her knees, she dragged his black jeans with her, unleashing that enormous dick. With the tip of her tongue, she licked off the small bit of pre-come already glistening on the head.

She glanced up. Mace had his arms stretched out across the counter, as if nailed to a cross. His eyes closed, his head leaning back. She smiled. Cocky bastard.

“These jeans new?”

His head snapped forward. “What?”

Such urgency flooded his voice, it took all her strength not to bust out laughing. “I said are these jeans new? They look new.”

He swallowed. “Um…yeah…got them this morning.”

“Locally?”

His fingers dug into the metal of her island countertop. Even his claws came out. “Yes.”

“The sweater too?” She tugged on it. “It’s nice. I like it.”

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