“Smart-ass, and no. That’s not an issue.”
“You’re not a vegetarian or something, are you?”
Mace’s almost-hysterical laughter at her offhanded remark seemed a little excessive, but she chose to ignore it. “Well then?”
He cleared his throat. “Okay. Fine. You want Van Holtz? We’ll go to Van Holtz.”
“Jesus, Mace. I’m not asking you to choose a political party here.”
“Might as well be.”
“What?”
“Nothing. So eight, in the Village, front of Van Holtz restaurant. That work for you?”
“Perfect. I’ve gotta do some shopping anyway. So, I’ll see you then. ’Kay?”
“Yeah…so…are your nipples hard or not?”
“Bye, Mace.”
She closed the phone. This is such a mistake.
Dez flinched when her phone rang again. She flipped it open. “I’m not telling you if my nipples are hard.”
“That’s good. Cause I really don’t wanna know,” stated a female voice Dez didn’t recognize.
“Who the hell is this?”
“Is this Detective MacDermot?”
“Who’s askin’?” She shook her head. The reappearance of Bronx-Dez. She thought she’d buried her…
“Look, I got some information. On Alexander Petrov.” Dez sat up a little straighter. True, her removal from this case made this a slightly inappropriate conversation, but why scare off a potential lead with that unnecessary bit of information?
“Okay.”
“Can you meet me?”
“Where?”
“The Chapel. At eleven-thirty.”
The Chapel. A hot Village club she could never hope of getting into without her badge. “Isn’t there another place we can—”
The woman cut her off. “I’ll be there. You won’t have a problem getting in.”
“You work there?”
Dez received a long pause. For a moment, she thought the woman hung up. “My family owns it.”
Dez bit the inside of her mouth to prevent herself from saying something stupid. An effective technique she’d learned years ago. “So, you’re a Brutale?”
“Yeah. Gina. Gina Brutale. Meet me there at eleven-thirty. Tell the guy at the door you’re there to see me. Give him your name but don’t say detective…and try not to look like a cop.” Brutale hung up.
Dez closed her phone and glanced at the clock on her nightstand by her .45. This would work nicely. Dinner with Mace at eight o’clock. Having to handle work at eleven-thirty kept her from doing something monumentally stupid. Like going back to Mace’s hotel room or giving him a blow job in the restaurant bathroom. You know, whatever…
Mace turned over in the king-size bed and buried his face into the pillow. That woman’s voice would be the death of him. Knowing she sounded like that when she woke up turned his cock into a lead pipe. He couldn’t wait to experience that for himself. Waking up with Dez growling next to him. He would experience it, too. He’d waited too long for this. For her. She simply had no idea what she did to him. She never did.
Mace went back to sleep and dreamed about him and Dez.
And Dez’s handcuffs…
Dez stood next to her partner as they waited for the M.E.
“Don’t forget, MacDermot. You’re not here.”
“Nope. Right now I’m out singing carols.”
“Let’s not push it.”
John Michaels, one of the city’s best M.E.s, pushed open the double doors. “Good. You’re both here.” He motioned to them, and they followed him inside. Alexander Petrov’s naked body lay out on a metal table.
“I want to show you two something. Here.” He pointed to the man’s throat, and both Dez and Bukowski leaned over and examined the area.
“What is that?”
“Claw marks.”
Dez frowned. “From a dog?”
“Awfully big claws for a dog, in my opinion. Plus something’s not quite right.”
“What do you mean?”
He motioned to her, and Dez went and stood in front of him.
“If an animal clawed his throat, we would have found three to four swipe marks here.” He tapped one side of Dez’s neck. “Or here.” He tapped the other. “Or both.”
“Okay.”
“But what I found on this vic is very different.”
“Like what?”
“There’s a bruise across his throat. Four claw marks on the left side of his neck and one on the right. Which would imply this…” He wrapped long fingers around her throat. Four on one side. His thumb on the other. “Now pull away from me, Detective.” Dez did, and Michaels’s gloved fingers painlessly slashed across her flesh.
The two stared at each other. “Holy shit.”
Bukowski stood next to them. “I don’t get it. What am I missing?”
Dez looked at her partner. “How many animals you know got thumbs?”
Dez and Bukowski stood on the street corner while she pulled gloves onto her hands. As soon as Bukowski pulled out one of his rare cigarettes, she knew he was freaking out. “What’s with you?”
“Doesn’t this whole thing freak you out in the least?”
“Nah.” Dez shook her head. “A real puzzle to solve. I live for this stuff. Besides, it’s probably some wacko wearing a clawed glove or something.”
Bukowski smiled. “You’re a weird one, MacDermot.”
“So my sisters keep reminding me.”
“Where you going now?”
Dez pulled her notepad out from her back pocket and checked her list. “Shopping for the family…that’ll be fun. Gotta order those goddamn pies too. Dinner with Mace. And meeting with Gina Brutale.”
“Gina Brutale? Why are you meeting with her?”
“She says she has information on Petrov.”
“Dez, you’re not supposed to be meeting with informants. You weren’t supposed to be here.”
“She called me directly. If you show up instead, we won’t find out a goddamn thing. Don’t worry, if I get anything really juicy, I’ll make sure to let you know. Okay?”
“Be careful. Those Brutales are not a nice bunch of people.”
“I know. I know. You don’t have to tell me twice.”
“And don’t think for a second you slipped that bullshit about Llewellyn past me. What do you mean you’re having dinner with him?”
Damn. She really thought she’d gotten away with that.
“He called me this morning and asked me out. Again.”
“And you said yes? Are you high?”
“Not in years. And I don’t see the problem. Mace Llewellyn is an old friend of mine. We’re just having dinner. Nothing else.”
“I saw the way he looked at you yesterday, Dez. That man has more on his mind than just dinner.”
“I’m not discussing this anymore. I gotta meet the guys for coffee.”
“Ask them, then. They’ll tell you. Llewellyn wants one thing from you.”
“Bye.” She walked off, but she could still hear Bukowski yelling at her.
“I’m calling you tomorrow. And you better answer the fuckin’ phone or I’m coming over!”
Why did every man insist on becoming her big brother? She had two sisters. More than enough siblings. So she didn’t want a brother.
Funny, she had the distinct feeling no matter what Mace felt for her, it definitely wasn’t brotherly.
Mace leaned back on his hotel room couch, his arms over his head, his legs stretched out in front of him. His T-shirt and long shorts stuck to his sweat-drenched body. He thought he’d be able to run Dez from his system, at least for a few hours, in the hotel’s gym. But every second that passed brought him closer to seeing her again. The thought made his mouth water.
He thought his obsession for her rocked off the charts before. He’d been wrong. That had simply been the idea of her, without any knowledge of how she actually turned out. He could fantasize all he wanted to, but his subconscious
knew she could be a far different person. Lazy. Mean. Nasty. She could be anything. Instead, she blossomed. Who knew being a cop would actually make someone happy?
That scared little girl who used to hide behind her books? Well, the strong, confident woman of Mace’s dreams had replaced her. He hadn’t been lying to her earlier. He always knew that woman quietly lived inside Dez. He always hoped he’d be the man to bring it out in her. But based on what he found out about her from Watts, she found confidence under the relentless tutelage of a Marine Corp drill sergeant.
Dez still seemed wary of him, though. Not surprising really. According to Watts, her divorce turned kind of bloody. Her ex was a prosecutor who eventually became a defense attorney. The marriage lasted as long as her stint in the Marines but apparently wasn’t nearly as satisfying for either of them. Since then she hadn’t dated much, and nothing serious had come along.
Until now.
Mace flew beyond being serious about this woman. His feelings for her lived in another universe altogether.
The woman’s very soul called out to him. He kept imagining what that body would feel like under him. What that voice would sound like in his ear when she was coming. Would she rip the skin off his back or just leave bruises? Did she bite? Or maybe she liked to be bit. Did her pussy taste sweet? Or a little salty? And did she mind being worn as a hat?
Mace groaned and glanced over at the hotel clock on the nearby end table. He still had hours before he’d see her again.
Smitty took his Pack out for a long lunch in Midtown. Mace glanced over at the bathroom. Nope. His cock was too hard to even think he could make it to the shower.
He reached into his sweatpants, pulling his cock free. He ran his hand along its hard length, immediately imagining Dez. Now she wasn’t some hazy fantasy that he concocted. He knew exactly what adult Dez looked like, which only made him harder. Mace accessed one of his standard Dez fantasies, the one where he kissed her for hours. Not exactly Penthouse worthy, but it still ruled as one of his favorites. She had such gorgeous lips, he could spend his life kissing that mouth. In fact, he had every intention of doing exactly that.
Mace closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the couch. He started off slowly, stroking himself. Enjoying the feeling of his own hand. And he could almost feel her. Dez’s lips on his throat, his jaw, his mouth. His grip tightened and he couldn’t stifle a groan. His tongue inside her mouth, her hands sliding across his chest. His breath sped up as his strokes became stronger, faster.
One meeting with her and Dez had become a part of him. She infected his blood. He could smell her scent. Almost feel her skin. That voice, though. That goddamn voice pushed him over the edge. It always had. His orgasm slammed into him and he growled Dez’s name as his come spurted all over his hand.
Mace relaxed back on the cushions. That woman is going to be the death of me.
Dez walked up to the table outside the café. Not surprisingly, they weren’t alone. Four gorgeous women surrounded them. Vinny caught her eye. The spark of desperation in those pretty blue peeps sent her a clear message. “Help me. These women are boring me to death.”
Well, she couldn’t leave her buddies hanging. Besides, it would be fun.
She walked up to the group, flashed her badge. “I’m sorry, ladies. But I’m here to arrest these men for their homosexual prostitution ring.”
The group stared at her. She crossed her arms, which caused her jacket to move back, revealing the gun holstered at her side. “Start moving those asses, ladies. Or I start shooting.”
It took them less than a minute to evacuate their seats. Dez threw herself into the one next to Jimmy Cavanaugh and put her feet on Vinny’s lap. “Well, that was fun.”
Vinny slapped Dez’s boot-covered feet. “Why are we always gay in these scenarios you create?”
She grinned. “Because it makes you idiots uncomfortable. I live for that.”
Dez ordered herself a large black coffee and an éclair from the waiter. Once he walked away, she glanced at the three men sitting with her. Three of her closest friends since her tour in Japan. They became friends because they were all products of the “Burroughs.” Vinny Pentolli represented Queens, Jimmy Cavanaugh Brooklyn, and Salvatore Ping-Wei stood in for Manhattan. She represented the Bronx.
They were the toughest MPs she’d ever known. They took no crap but were fair. And she had become one of the most feared dog handlers because she had “Baby.” No one messed with Baby. No one came near Baby. No one looked Baby in the eye. No one but her. Dez had earned their respect by expertly taking care of four drunken sailors her third night on duty. Not hard when Baby had one of their throats in her maw.
The four of them served together for over a year until reassignment to different bases. Dez stayed in the Marines for only another two years after that. Then she came back to the city of her birth and became what she always wanted to be. A New York City cop. Five years ago, she walked into one of her favorite Irish bars and right into the middle of a bar fight. She and her partner at the time broke up the fight even though they were both off duty. When the proverbial smoke cleared she came face to face with her past.
Kind of like the day before when she saw Mace again. Only she just wanted to have a beer with the guys and catch up with old times. With Mace, she didn’t want to do anything but sit on his face.
“You look awfully nice today.”
Of all the people she would expect to notice the cleavage she decided to show in anticipation of her dinner later that night with Mace, Sal was the last of them. It always seemed like he didn’t pay attention to much, like he existed in his own world. Yet, every few months or so, he surprised her by revealing that nothing really got past him.
“You’re right,” Vinny agreed. “She has on her good black jeans and her low-cut slut top.” She glared at Vinny and took her feet off his lap.
“Showing some healthy tit action,” Jimmy unnecessarily added.
“I am not!”
The three men laughed while Dez’s face turned red.
“So what’s the deal, MacDermot? I know you didn’t dress up like this for us. You hate this season, so you’re not feeling merry. And you’re off duty since your unfortunate run-in with the rich and the powerful.”
Dez waited until the waiter left her coffee and pastry and walked away. “Well…I have a date tonight.”
The way they gaped at her was what she found so insulting. “I’m not lying.”
“No. But are you delusional?”
“Blow me!”
“Whoa!” All three men reared back, and she inwardly groaned at the return of the foul-mouthed Bronx girl she had been. Damn Mace!
Vinny held his hands up, palms out. “Calm down, woman. You know we’re kidding.”
“No, you’re not. And you’re paying for my éclair.”
Jimmy stared at her and Dez knew why he didn’t spend a lot of time alone. She did really have the most gorgeous male friends. Although they were a little…different. Sal lived in his own world. Vinny brought being an egotistical prick to a brand-new high or low depending on your perspective. And Jimmy always seemed angry. She never saw him smile with anyone but the three of them. He probably came out of his mother’s womb with that scowl permanently plastered to his gorgeous face. Sometimes she wondered if smiling might actually be painful for him.
“So who is he?”
“He’s actually an old friend of mine. Just got back into town.” She sipped her coffee, then said while staring into the coffee mug, “He’s Navy.”
Dez ducked the balled-up napkins thrown at her.
“Have you no shame?” Jimmy sighed.
“Oh, shut up.”
The men took chunks of her éclair. “So who is this Navy guy?”
Dez swallowed at Jimmy’s question. “Uh…Mason Llewellyn.”
The silence that followed…kind of painful. Finally, Dez couldn’t take it anymore. “What?”
Vinny barely smothered a laugh. “Yo
u expect us to believe you’re dating a Llewellyn?”
“I’m not dating a Llewellyn. We went to school together. I told you about him.”
“You went to school with a Llewellyn?”
“Well,” Jimmy cut in, “I went to school with a Rockefeller. Of the Brooklyn Rockefellers.”
Dez gazed down at her empty plate. They’d completely demolished her éclair. She inwardly sighed. Of course they didn’t believe her. Why would anyone think Dez MacDermot would know, much less date, a Llewellyn? Especially one as tasty as Mace?
“She did tell us about him. They went to the Cathedral School together. He was her first big crush. A cute little guy who couldn’t control his hair.” The three of them gaped at Sal. “What?”
Dez pushed the empty plate away. “I’m always surprised when I realize you were actually listening to me.”
“I listen. I just don’t say anything unless necessary.” He shrugged. “It felt necessary.”
Jimmy leaned back, and Dez winced as the chair creaked loudly. All that muscle on one man often seemed kind of inhuman. Not a lot of chairs held him easily. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you going out with a Llewellyn.”
Startled, Dez looked at her friend. He’s not comfortable?
“I agree with you, Jim. I’m not sure you should go through with this.” Now Dez turned her eyes on Vinny.
“Have you both lost your minds?”
“I mean, who is this guy?”
“And when exactly was the last time you saw him?”
“You know, I’d expect this crap from Bukowski, but not from you guys.”
“Bukowski’s uncomfortable with this too, huh?”
“This conversation”—Dez rapped her knuckles against the Formica table—“is over.”
“Be careful, Dez,” Jimmy stated earnestly.
“And don’t sleep with him the first night,” Vinny warned. “We know what a slut you can be.”
Dez turned to Sal. “Do you have anything to add to this bullshit?”
“Yeah.” Sal looked down from the ceiling he’d been staring at. “Based on the structure of this building, if we removed that pillar back there, we could take out this whole block.”
The Mane Event Page 5