The Mane Event. Shelly Laurenston

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The Mane Event - Shelly Laurenston

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      “It’s Mace.”

      “Oh,” she replied casually like she didn’t almost come from his “hey” alone. “Hiya, Mace.” She used her shoulder to cover the mouthpiece on her phone, shoved a pillow over her face, and yelled into it. After a moment, she calmly went back to the conversation. “What’s up?”

      She heard him stretch. “Nothing. Just checking on you.”

      She closed her eyes and her legs. Took a calming breath. “Oh. That’s sweet.”

      “I’m known for being sweet.”

      “No, you’re not.”

      He laughed softly and she bit her lip to keep from moaning.

      Really…is there anything better than the gravelly six A.M. voice on a man? Dez didn’t think so. And Mace had one of those in spades. She may have to dig out her vibrator. It has to be around here somewhere.

      “You’re right. I’m not.” A moment of silence descended, and Dez wondered if they had already run out of things to say. She should have known better. “You just getting up?”

      “Not really. It’s only six A.M. and I don’t have to go to work. So, I’m just lying here.”

      “Really?” She heard his body move, the sheets rustle. She imagined him naked and in bed. She closed her eyes. Okay. She needed to stop doing that right now. “What are you wearing?”

      Oh no! They were not going to have this conversation. She couldn’t handle it. Hell, she couldn’t handle him. “Christ, Mace, we haven’t had one of these conversations in a long time.”

      “Yeah, but at fourteen they were relatively tame. We’re much older now.”

      “Don’t remind me.”

      “So?”

      “So what?”

      “What are you wearing?”

      “I’m not discussing that with—”

      “Are you naked?”

      “No!” Dez rolled her eyes. Good God, the man could be persistent. “A tank top and baggy shorts.”

      “Panties?”

      With a throat clear, “No.”

      He purred. At least that’s exactly what it sounded like. Purring. She didn’t remember him purring before.

      “Did you…did you just purr?”

      “Yup. I’m thinking about you with no underwear.”

      “Jesus, Mace. You’re killing me.”

      “Is it making you wet?”

      “Mason Llewellyn! We are not having this conversation.”

      “Why?”

      “Well, I am hoping to eventually arrest your sister for murder.”

      “I’m hoping you arrest my sister for murder.”

      “Oh.”

      “You’re running out of excuses.”

      “I am not.”

      “Your nipples hard?”

      “Mace!”

      “Give me something. I’m dyin’ here.” Every once in a while, Mace suddenly reminded her he was born and raised in New York when a little bit of an accent reared its ugly head. It usually only happened when he got emotional or, if she remembered her school days correctly, horny…

      She ground her teeth together. She would not have phone sex with a guy she hadn’t seen in more than twenty years. Even she wasn’t that desperate. “What do you want from me, Mace?”

      There went that damn purr again. Deep. Low from his gut. Primal. “Everything.”

      Dez closed her eyes. Good answer. But also the wrong one. She didn’t have everything to give. She was a cop. Born a cop if you happened to ask her dad. The one thing in her life that made her truly happy. The one thing she did really well. She couldn’t give that up for Mace. She couldn’t give that up for anybody.

      “You got quiet all of a sudden. What’s wrong?”

      Dez sighed. “I’m thinking about the price I pay to be me.” Mace chuckled. “What’s so funny, Llewellyn?”

      “You. You haven’t changed one damn bit.”

      “Are you kidding? I am not the person you used to know.”

      “No. You’re the person I always knew you were.”

      Dez pulled herself up to a sitting position. “Is that right? And what deep insight do you have about me right now?”

      “That’s easy. You’re thinking you’re not about to give up being a cop for me or any man. Aren’t you?”

      Dez placed the phone on the comforter and scowled at it. She had the almost overwhelming desire to run from the room screaming. She forgot Mace used to do this to her all the time. That he saw what no one else saw. What no one else wanted to see. Sometimes her own family included.

      “Pick up the phone, Dez.”

      She shook her head. It’s not a picture phone, you idiot!

      “I can hear you breathing. So pick up the phone—now.”

      Dez grabbed the phone and put it to her ear. “How did you…when did you…?”

      “Come out to dinner with me, Dez.”

      “No way!” She would not be dating Rasputin anytime soon.

      “You either come out here for a nice, normal dinner or I come there…and who knows what I’ll tell you about yourself.”

      Would that be before or after her dogs rip his arms off? Or she fucks him on the porch. You know…whatever.

      “This is—”

      “Blackmail. Yes. I know. I’m a rich, white male not afraid to use the power of his position.” She rolled her eyes, imagining Mace’s smile as he spouted that load of crap. “So come out with me anyway. Just dinner. I promise.”

      “Mace—”

      “Come out with me, Dez.” His voice actually got lower. How? “Come out with me tonight. Please?”

      The “please” caught her off guard. She didn’t remember Mace ever asking for anything except the salt or ketchup. And then only out of politeness. Now he wasn’t being polite. The man practically begged. She thought about that for a moment.

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