Big Bad Beast
Page 40
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Including your daddy.
And Ric is just so damn pretty, it would be a right shame to see him all . . .
Eviscerated?
She sighed. You do know how Daddy likes to eviscerate.
He does have a skill.
A man has to know his strengths.
So do you like him?
Frowning, I love Daddy.
Not him. Van Holtz. Do you like Van Holtz?
Oh. Dee thought a moment, then answered, Yep.
And? he pushed.
And what?
Aint ya gonna gush about him or somethin?
Gush? Who the hell do you think youre talking to?
Sorry. For a minute there I thought you were a girl, but then I remembered that youre just sleeping with one.
Dont be jealous cause you dont look like a supermodel, too. Not everybody can be that pretty.
They focused on the stage and Dee demanded, What in hell are we listening to?
A lion male singing Sweet Home Alabama.
Ya see? she asked her friend. Daddy was right.
And together they said, Time to start the killin.
CHAPTER 13
R ic sat at his kitchen table, working on ideas for the next days menu based on what product he knew would be coming into the restaurant that morning and what they had left over that was still fresh.
He enjoyed doing this, coming up with new ideas, pulling out old ones, turning them into a cohesive whole that worked with their standard cuts of meat. So focused on his menu, he didnt know he wasnt alone until Dee slammed down a plate of angel food cake onto the table and dropped into the chair beside him.
Hello.
Hey, she replied while . . . well, while pouting.
Something wrong?
Just tired.
No more problems with Malone?
Not today. Tomorrow, of course, is another story.
Make it work, Dee-Ann.
Yeah, yeah. She glanced at him. Whats wrong with you?
Nothing.
She snorted. Youre a bad liar.
And youre not just tired.
Dee toyed with her dessert plate. Do you ever wonder sometimes what it would be like to be a nice, solitary cat, without all the Pack fuss?
Not really. Ric picked up her fork and lifted a piece of cake to her mouth. All those hairballs and obsession with yarn. Plus, I just dont know how to do that thing they do.
What thing? she asked beforeopening her mouth so he could feed her the cake.
That arch look of disdain they all have about absolutely everything. Lets be honest, Dee. Its a skill canines simply lack.
She could tell something was bothering him, but she wouldnt push him if he didnt want to talk about it. Nothing irritated her more than people pushing her when she wasnt in the mood to be pushed. Instead, she ate the cake he fed her.
Im glad you came back, Ric told her, lifting another forkful to her mouth.
So am I. She grinned. Because youre lookin sexy.
Im not a whore, Dee-Ann. You cant just come here to use and abuse me before going on your merry way. Unless, of course, youre naked.
Still not bored with that yet?
Never.
Most males are scared off by my scars.
Even wolves?
Theres a difference between survival scars and I kill for a living scars. And wolves with half a brain can tell them apart. She took the fork from him and proceeded to feed him several pieces of cake.
Does your father have a lot of scars? he asked between bites.
Not as many as mine. Daddy was not one for the close-up kill unless you really pissed him off.
But you enjoy more . . . direct engagement?
I can kill from a distance like anyone else with my training, but that dont always feel right to me. Id rather know when my end is coming. Id rather look it in the eye. Tell it How do ya do? To those who deserve it, I try and do the same thing. For those who dont . . . they get whatevers comin. She suddenly smirked a little at the expression on his face. Am I making you nervous, Van Holtz? Ric shook his head. Not really. He took the fork from her fingers and placed it on the table.
Then he gently gripped her hand and lowered it to his groin, pressing it against the bulge he had eagerly pulsating against his zipper.
Dee swallowed and admitted, Youre a strange boy, Ulrich Van Holtz.
Am I making you nervous now?
Her hand turned so she could more easily grip his groin with her fingers, the denim between them making it more erotic. Nah. You are making things a bit more interesting, though. Fancy boy like you, gettin all turned on by a hard-hearted bitch like me. His hands slipped into her hair, fingertips massaging her scalp. He stared into her face and said,
Your heart isnt hard, Dee-Ann. Its strong and maybe encased in a ribcage made of granite, but its not hard. Far from it.
And Ric is just so damn pretty, it would be a right shame to see him all . . .
Eviscerated?
She sighed. You do know how Daddy likes to eviscerate.
He does have a skill.
A man has to know his strengths.
So do you like him?
Frowning, I love Daddy.
Not him. Van Holtz. Do you like Van Holtz?
Oh. Dee thought a moment, then answered, Yep.
And? he pushed.
And what?
Aint ya gonna gush about him or somethin?
Gush? Who the hell do you think youre talking to?
Sorry. For a minute there I thought you were a girl, but then I remembered that youre just sleeping with one.
Dont be jealous cause you dont look like a supermodel, too. Not everybody can be that pretty.
They focused on the stage and Dee demanded, What in hell are we listening to?
A lion male singing Sweet Home Alabama.
Ya see? she asked her friend. Daddy was right.
And together they said, Time to start the killin.
CHAPTER 13
R ic sat at his kitchen table, working on ideas for the next days menu based on what product he knew would be coming into the restaurant that morning and what they had left over that was still fresh.
He enjoyed doing this, coming up with new ideas, pulling out old ones, turning them into a cohesive whole that worked with their standard cuts of meat. So focused on his menu, he didnt know he wasnt alone until Dee slammed down a plate of angel food cake onto the table and dropped into the chair beside him.
Hello.
Hey, she replied while . . . well, while pouting.
Something wrong?
Just tired.
No more problems with Malone?
Not today. Tomorrow, of course, is another story.
Make it work, Dee-Ann.
Yeah, yeah. She glanced at him. Whats wrong with you?
Nothing.
She snorted. Youre a bad liar.
And youre not just tired.
Dee toyed with her dessert plate. Do you ever wonder sometimes what it would be like to be a nice, solitary cat, without all the Pack fuss?
Not really. Ric picked up her fork and lifted a piece of cake to her mouth. All those hairballs and obsession with yarn. Plus, I just dont know how to do that thing they do.
What thing? she asked beforeopening her mouth so he could feed her the cake.
That arch look of disdain they all have about absolutely everything. Lets be honest, Dee. Its a skill canines simply lack.
She could tell something was bothering him, but she wouldnt push him if he didnt want to talk about it. Nothing irritated her more than people pushing her when she wasnt in the mood to be pushed. Instead, she ate the cake he fed her.
Im glad you came back, Ric told her, lifting another forkful to her mouth.
So am I. She grinned. Because youre lookin sexy.
Im not a whore, Dee-Ann. You cant just come here to use and abuse me before going on your merry way. Unless, of course, youre naked.
Still not bored with that yet?
Never.
Most males are scared off by my scars.
Even wolves?
Theres a difference between survival scars and I kill for a living scars. And wolves with half a brain can tell them apart. She took the fork from him and proceeded to feed him several pieces of cake.
Does your father have a lot of scars? he asked between bites.
Not as many as mine. Daddy was not one for the close-up kill unless you really pissed him off.
But you enjoy more . . . direct engagement?
I can kill from a distance like anyone else with my training, but that dont always feel right to me. Id rather know when my end is coming. Id rather look it in the eye. Tell it How do ya do? To those who deserve it, I try and do the same thing. For those who dont . . . they get whatevers comin. She suddenly smirked a little at the expression on his face. Am I making you nervous, Van Holtz? Ric shook his head. Not really. He took the fork from her fingers and placed it on the table.
Then he gently gripped her hand and lowered it to his groin, pressing it against the bulge he had eagerly pulsating against his zipper.
Dee swallowed and admitted, Youre a strange boy, Ulrich Van Holtz.
Am I making you nervous now?
Her hand turned so she could more easily grip his groin with her fingers, the denim between them making it more erotic. Nah. You are making things a bit more interesting, though. Fancy boy like you, gettin all turned on by a hard-hearted bitch like me. His hands slipped into her hair, fingertips massaging her scalp. He stared into her face and said,
Your heart isnt hard, Dee-Ann. Its strong and maybe encased in a ribcage made of granite, but its not hard. Far from it.
