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Authors: Nikki Winter
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make a pass at you being that you weren’t...yourself.”
“Oh good God...”
“Don’t worry. You only kneed him in the balls twice.”
Becca groaned.
“I stopped you before you could go for a third time. I thought the first two were funny as shit, but taking the use of a man’s nether regions for the rest of his life seemed a bit drastic.”
She simply eased herself under the comforter and pulled it over her head. “Leave me to my dread and embarrassment now, please.”
Dean snorted and then she felt the covers being tugged. He stared down into her face. “It’s really not that bad.”
“Oh really?” Her brows winged. “How do you figure that?”
“Because I was just fucking with you. You really didn’t do any of that stuff. You just got a little sick after one too many shots and I brought you up here to get you settled. Then I took watch all night to make sure you weren’t dehydrated.” He grinned again.
Calmly, so she wouldn’t scream and make her head hurt any more than it already did, Becca questioned, “Why in the fuck did you tell me I did all of those things if I didn’t?”
Just as calmly as she’d asked, he answered, “Oh, because the abject look of horror on your pretty face was just too damn good to pass up, sweetness.”
And that was when she started yelling because really, how could she not?
***
Dean chuckled as Becca slammed the suite door right in his face. Damn she was cute, downright adorable even. With a vixen’s body and a siren’s grin, his future wife—because yes, he already had it planned that she’d carry his family name—was the perfect package. Having only known her for the last few weeks since the last preparations before Kyran and Ryssa’s wedding had begun, Dean could tell that out of the two sisters, Becca was a bit on the wild side. But he liked it, never wanted to change it and planned on embracing it fully once she realized they were meant to be together.
He’d flown out from New York out to Monterey, California, taking leave of his job as a NYPD detective, and never wanted to go back because of Ms. Williams. Everything about her from the moment his eyes had landed on those large gray orbs of hers held him captive. The baffling part of it all was anytime he got near her, the woman whom Kyran had warned him several times over to never, ever show any weakness around tensed up like an angry alley cat.
She seemed to save those claws only for the likes of him, though, and Dean was sure he’d come mighty close to losing his eyes over the last few days. He just couldn't help himself when it came to her. She was the life of the party with everyone else—hell, she tortured her sister relentlessly—yet if he even moved she scowled at him like he was Satan’s most trusted assistant. It made no sense. Yet he went after her regardless. She was just too good to pass up, hilarious and way more intelligent than others noticed, and Dean saw through her wild child act.
He supposed that was the reason she hated him so. He knew what was really inside. That appeared to irk his sweetness. He stood grinning at the door that she'd just slammed in his face. There was a resigned sigh from the other side. “You're still out there, aren't you?” Becca questioned, sounding all kinds of put out.
If at all possible, Dean's grin spread wider. “What made you guess that?”
“It’s kind of the same way I know there's a spider in my room...staring at me before I even see it,” she retorted drily.
He chuckled. “I'll try not to feel too insulted at that obvious barb. Now are you going to let me back in and talk to me about why you got so blasted off your ass last night?”
“Why in the hell would I do that?” And
“Oh good God...”
“Don’t worry. You only kneed him in the balls twice.”
Becca groaned.
“I stopped you before you could go for a third time. I thought the first two were funny as shit, but taking the use of a man’s nether regions for the rest of his life seemed a bit drastic.”
She simply eased herself under the comforter and pulled it over her head. “Leave me to my dread and embarrassment now, please.”
Dean snorted and then she felt the covers being tugged. He stared down into her face. “It’s really not that bad.”
“Oh really?” Her brows winged. “How do you figure that?”
“Because I was just fucking with you. You really didn’t do any of that stuff. You just got a little sick after one too many shots and I brought you up here to get you settled. Then I took watch all night to make sure you weren’t dehydrated.” He grinned again.
Calmly, so she wouldn’t scream and make her head hurt any more than it already did, Becca questioned, “Why in the fuck did you tell me I did all of those things if I didn’t?”
Just as calmly as she’d asked, he answered, “Oh, because the abject look of horror on your pretty face was just too damn good to pass up, sweetness.”
And that was when she started yelling because really, how could she not?
***
Dean chuckled as Becca slammed the suite door right in his face. Damn she was cute, downright adorable even. With a vixen’s body and a siren’s grin, his future wife—because yes, he already had it planned that she’d carry his family name—was the perfect package. Having only known her for the last few weeks since the last preparations before Kyran and Ryssa’s wedding had begun, Dean could tell that out of the two sisters, Becca was a bit on the wild side. But he liked it, never wanted to change it and planned on embracing it fully once she realized they were meant to be together.
He’d flown out from New York out to Monterey, California, taking leave of his job as a NYPD detective, and never wanted to go back because of Ms. Williams. Everything about her from the moment his eyes had landed on those large gray orbs of hers held him captive. The baffling part of it all was anytime he got near her, the woman whom Kyran had warned him several times over to never, ever show any weakness around tensed up like an angry alley cat.
She seemed to save those claws only for the likes of him, though, and Dean was sure he’d come mighty close to losing his eyes over the last few days. He just couldn't help himself when it came to her. She was the life of the party with everyone else—hell, she tortured her sister relentlessly—yet if he even moved she scowled at him like he was Satan’s most trusted assistant. It made no sense. Yet he went after her regardless. She was just too good to pass up, hilarious and way more intelligent than others noticed, and Dean saw through her wild child act.
He supposed that was the reason she hated him so. He knew what was really inside. That appeared to irk his sweetness. He stood grinning at the door that she'd just slammed in his face. There was a resigned sigh from the other side. “You're still out there, aren't you?” Becca questioned, sounding all kinds of put out.
If at all possible, Dean's grin spread wider. “What made you guess that?”
“It’s kind of the same way I know there's a spider in my room...staring at me before I even see it,” she retorted drily.
He chuckled. “I'll try not to feel too insulted at that obvious barb. Now are you going to let me back in and talk to me about why you got so blasted off your ass last night?”
“Why in the hell would I do that?” And
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