Then his grin disappeared between her legs and Dee didn’t have the strength to stop a superbly talented tongue from giving her the best head ever.
Dez sat at the red light, waiting for it to change so they could head into Jersey. Malone sat in the passenger seat and Dee-Ann was in the back. Janis Joplin’s “Me and Bobby McGee” was playing on the radio while the sun began to set for the night.
At first, Dez thought Cella was humming along with the radio. She had a nice voice, too, throaty and mellow. She usually sang along with all the old rock songs. Anything from the sixties and up.
But when Cella turned her head and looked at her, Dez realized Cella wasn’t the one humming along to “Me and Bobby McGee.”
Dee-Ann had her long legs stretched out across the backseat of the black SUV; the blade she kept on her at all times held casually in her hand, her gaze focused out the window—and she hummed along with Janis.
The light changed and Dez moved forward, heading to their job for the night, and wondering what could make someone like Dee-Ann Smith hum.
CHAPTER 19
Dan Phillips of South Jersey was nearly asleep when he felt that weight pressing down on his chest, that blade against his throat.
His eyes shot open and in the blackness of the night, he could see nothing but those shiny eyes. The eyes of an animal.
He opened his mouth to scream but a soft “Hush, now,” stopped the words in his throat.
Beside him lay his wife, sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware that something was on top of him with a knife to his throat.
It leaned in close and whispered against Dan’s ear. “The only reason I haven’t killed you yet is because you don’t really know what you’re helping to fund. So I’m going to give you one chance to save your life and keep what seems to be a happy family from mourning the loss of their daddy. Understand?”
He nodded.
“The name of the client that provides money to the Connecticut Animal Rescue Foundation?”
That’s what it wanted to know? About the goddamn animal rescue that a bunch of rich do-gooders invested money in?
He gave the name and he felt whatever was on top of him stiffen in surprise. Then it said, “Thank you kindly” and was gone.
It didn’t need to tell him not to say anything to anyone or not to call the police. It didn’t have to. He knew if he ever said a word to anyone, it would be back—and he’d be dead.
Cella was stretched out on the hood of the SUV, staring up at the stars. “Are you sure you heard him correctly?”
“There ain’t nothin’ wrong with my hearing, Malone. I know what I heard.”
Fuck, this was bad. Very bad. And the two females resting against the SUV knew that already.
“Well?” Smith demanded. “Anyone have any bright ideas?”
MacDermot walked a few steps away from the SUV and suddenly yelled out, “Fuck! Fuck!”
Cella sat up. “Let’s all calm the hell down.”
“How do you expect me to calm down?” MacDermot asked. “I mean, seriously? This is bad.”
“For all of us,” Cella reminded her. “With what I found out and Smith . . . this is bad for all of us. But we knew some serious money had to be behind this.”
“Yeah,” Smith said, “but this? Did you know?”
Cella scowled at the wolf. “What are you accusing me for?”
“Stop,” MacDermot ordered them. “We’re not going to turn on each other now.”
“So what do we do?”
Smith pushed away from the SUV. “I’ll handle it.”
“No—” But Smith was already moving toward the back of the SUV.
Cella and MacDermot went after her. “You can’t do this without authorization,” MacDermot reminded her.
“Fuck authorization.”
She unlocked the trunk, but Cella slammed her hand over it. “You’re not doing this, Dee-Ann. Not without authorization.”
“And you really think we’re going to get that?”
Cella nodded. “Yeah. I think we’ll get it. But only if we handle this right.”
“And what’s the right way to handle this?”
“To let our bosses do it. Not us.”
“Why not us?”
She decided to be honest. “You”—she pointed at Dee-Ann—“kill at the slightest provocation. I hit for no other reason than I feel like it. And MacDermot is rude and abrasive.” Cella put her arms around each woman’s shoulders and hugged them in tight. “Oh, my God! I just realized. I love you guys!”
“You’re touchin’ me,” Dee-Ann complained.
“Yeah, but at least this time it’s not ’cause I’m hitting you.”
“Only ’cause my back’s not turned.”
MacDermot laughed. “She’s got a point, Malone.”
CHAPTER 20
Dee decided to walk in the front door of Ric’s building, rather than skulking around the back until she found a way in. As she approached the big glass doors, the doorman rushed to open it.
“Good evening, Miss Smith,” he said, tipping his hat.
Dee froze, her body tensing. She scowled at the full-human, but he only smiled and waited for her to walk through the door. She did and entered the elevator, taking it to the penthouse.
Going against everything she practiced on a daily basis, she used the set of keys Ric had given her and opened the front door. She pulled off her jacket, hung it up in the closet, and walked down the hallway. She still felt like she was skulking, sticking to the shadows of the dimly lit apartment. Deciding she didn’t want to skulk around the man’s apartment any more than she wanted to skulk around his building, she stepped more into the middle of the hallway and headed toward the kitchen. The one place he always seemed to be.
“Ric?” she called out, assuming people who didn’t skulk made noise. They always did in movies and on TV. She pushed open the swinging door and stepped in to the kitchen. “Ric? Are you here?” That always seemed like a stupid question coming from shifters since she knew the man was somewhere in the apartment. Her nose picked up his scent, her ears could hear him moving around, and she could feel his presence. But it was a normal question and she could do normal in short, controlled bursts. Like gunfire.
A low growl came at her from the darkness and Dee stepped out of the kitchen, letting the door swing closed behind her. The growl moved closer, and eyes reflected the light from the few lamps that were lit.
Smiling a little, despite the problems she and her team had walked into, Dee moved away from the kitchen door and more into the hallway.
“Now what do you think you’re doing, Mr. Van Holtz? To some poor little gal all alone in the middle of your big ol’ apartment. Defenseless.”
Big paws padded softly against the marble flooring, the wolf circling around Dee-Ann, staying hidden in the shadows, but she knew where he was at every second.
Thinking that play should wait, Dee-Ann said, “We need to talk, Van Holtz.” But he snarled at that. “I know what you’d rather be doing but that’s not the point. We should talk. About business. Like two professionals.”
He stepped out of the darkness, all rippling muscle and power passed down from ancestors hundreds of years gone. He lowered his head, bright blue gaze locked on her face.
Dee stepped back and shook her head. “This ain’t professional, Ulrich.”
And that’s when he charged her.
Dez walked into the Brooklyn home she shared with her husband and mate. Her two purebred Rottweilers met her at the front door, greeting her with wet kisses and excited tail wags. She’d refused to dock their tails like some owners and she was glad she hadn’t. Nothing drove Mace crazier than when her dogs knocked shit down with their tails.