Shelly Laurenston - The Mane Event

Or maybe the way he stared at her. Like he spent every waking moment imagining her naked.

Only one person ever looked at her like that. Well, only one person ever looked at her like that where she didn’t have the overwhelming desire to rip eyes from sockets.

“Oh my God—Mace?”

Time had done wonders for her. Some women never looked as good as they did in high school, especially at thirty-six. But she did. Better. She still had those killer eyes. Gray with flecks of green. He used to stare into those eyes during biology class as they faked their way through the experiments. Of course, that’s when he wasn’t staring at that beautiful face with that cute, little pug nose or that incredibly hot body. She’d been an early bloomer, wearing a healthy C cup while the other girls were just moving from training bras. All of that didn’t matter, though. Not to Mace. That was just the cherry on top.

For him, it had been more than her big tits and luscious mouth. Dez actually liked him back then. Just the way he was. Ninety pounds soaking wet, barely five foot three, a head of hair he couldn’t control, and the attitude of a giant. Most people didn’t like Mace. Dez, however, found him funny and smart. Even his sisters never saw him that way. To a fourteen-year-old, that meant everything to him.

Then she left him. Walked out of his life and never came back. At the moment, Mace was completely ready to push her up against the wall and demand she tell him how she could leave him like she did.

For years, a part of him kept expecting to see her again. Although he always wished he could forget about her. Lose himself in some of the other women he had met since he last saw her saddle shoes walking down the school hall and out of his life. But he never could. No matter how hard he tried, he could never forget about her. Hell, he still dreamed about her. She was older in his dreams, thank God, but his dreams didn’t do justice to the woman now standing in front of him, an NYPD badge hanging on a chain around her neck.

“Mace Llewellyn? Is that you?”

So, she did remember him. Good. Now he could tell her what a bitch she’d been for leaving him. For breaking his fourteen-year-old heart into a million pieces and stomping on it with her saddle shoes. He geared himself to do it, too—until she smiled at him. A smile that practically knocked him on his ass.

After all these years, the woman leaped beyond perfect. Especially when she literally threw herself at him, her arms looping around his neck.

“Jesus, Mace! I can’t believe it!”

His eyes almost rolled to the back of his head when she pressed her curvaceous body against his. Without even thinking about it, he wrapped her in a bear hug and lifted her off her feet. She actually squealed, which sounded strange with that voice of hers.

“I don’t believe it, Mace!” He didn’t either. How did anyone smell this good? How was it humanly possible?

She laughed. “Stop sniffing my neck!” She pushed against his shoulders and leaned back, but he wouldn’t let her go. “I can’t believe you’re still doing that.”

“You smell good.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“So?”

“So, what?”

“Answer my question.”

“Your question?”

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Aw, Mace. Gimme a break.” She tried to pull out of his arms, but he held fast. “Are you going to let me go?”

“I’m comfortable. Answer my question.”

“My family moved, Mace. To Queens. My sisters and I went to a different school. I assure you it was nothing personal.” He stared at her. “It wasn’t!”

“Did you write me?”

“No, Mace.”

“Did you think about me?”

“Oh, come on!”

“What? It’s a valid question.”

“You know, you come from one of the wealthiest families in New York. You could have tracked me down if you really wanted to see me that badly.”

“I was in military school.”

Dez tried not to laugh, but it was a sad, weak attempt. “Sorry. I guess I just have a hard time imagining you taking orders from…you know… anybody.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Mace. It’s me.”

He gazed down into her face. “Yeah. It sure is you.” Their eyes locked and, for several moments, they did nothing but stare at each other.

Dez shook her head. “Okay. Put me down.”

“Why?”

“Mace!”

He dropped her, forcing Dez to rock back on her heels. This, of course, forced him to grab her ass to steady her before she fell back.

“Hands off, Llewellyn. Or I’m turning your nads into a necklace.”

He smiled as he released her. “Well, you haven’t changed.”

“Neither have you. I see Captain Ego still lives.”

No other woman existed who he let get away with calling him that. He glanced down at himself. “I haven’t changed? Not even a little?”

“I don’t mean physically, you idiot.” She punched him lightly on the shoulder, blinked in surprise, and suddenly felt the bicep under his leather jacket. “I definitely don’t mean physically.”

He grinned at her, enjoying that his body seemed to have her so distracted. “You doing all right there, beautiful?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“At least tell me you missed me.”

She nodded as her voice softened. “Yeah, Mace. I missed you. You were my best friend.”

Best friend? He never wanted to be her best friend. He wanted to be her boyfriend. He wanted her parents to catch them on their couch making out. He wanted to buy her one of those tacky ID bracelets with his name on it. He wanted to tattoo “Property of Mace Llewellyn” on her forehead.

“Stop frowning, Mace.” She reached up and ran her hand over his brow. A move she used to do a lot in school. Often the only thing that kept him calm back then. The only thing that kept him from tearing idiot jocks and rich assholes apart with his newly sprouted fangs. “It’s been over twenty years, Mace. Let it go, bonehead.” She ran her thumb down his nose, spreading her hand out so her fingers cupped his cheek. He leaned into her hand and she smiled that smile.

Even after all these years, she knew just how to handle him. How to contain the beast within his heart without even trying. Oh yeah. This woman was destined to be his. And nothing would get in his way now.

“What the hell do you think you are doing with my brother?”

Mace growled and wondered how much prison time a man would do for tossing his sister into the East River.

Mace’s body tensed against her hand. Then she heard that Mace growl. He only used that when something really pissed him off. Poor baby, seemed he still didn’t get along any better with his sisters than she did with her own.

She looked over her shoulder at the beautiful Missy Llewellyn. Unlike Mace, Missy hadn’t changed much. Still lean, gold, and beautiful. Pretty much the exact opposite of Dez whose least-favorite uncle still referred to her as “the pudgy one.”

“Well? Answer me.” And still mean as a snake.

Oooh. A pissed Missy. Dez loved this. She could have been good. She should have been nice. But come on. The entire homicide department didn’t call her The Instigator for nothing.

Dez turned to face Missy and leaned back into Mace’s chest. Then, for the hell of it, she grabbed his big arms and wrapped them around her waist. Initially, she surprised herself with her physical reaction to Mace. Throwing herself into the arms of a man she hadn’t seen in more than twenty years really wasn’t her style. But just the sight of him brought back that fourteen-year-old girl who could never get enough of Mace and his inherent weirdness. But now? Well, using Mace to torture his sister—just a Dez party.