The Mane Attraction

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The Mane Attraction Page 21

by Shelly Laurenston


  Sissy wiped her mouth with her paper napkin. “That has to be the nicest way anyone has put my relationship with that idiot.”

  “I guess I can take that as a yes.”

  “Momma told me that when I was still in the crib, Travis walked up to her and said, ‘I don’t like her. She stares at me.’”

  “Did you?”

  “She wasn’t sure she believed him at first, so she watched me for a while. My daddy would come in, and I’d giggle and wave my hands and feet. Sammy and Bobby Ray would come in, and I’d reach for them. Jackie and Donnie ... I’d start giggling again, and Momma said it was mocking even then. But when Travis came in, I’d immediately stop whatever I was doing and just stare at him. I’d stare until he left the room. And I wouldn’t fall asleep if he was in the room unless I was in either Momma’s or Daddy’s arms.”

  “Those are impressive instincts.”

  “Sometimes you have no choice if you want to survive.”

  “Is he why you left?”

  “You mean to come to New York?”

  “No. When you were eighteen. With Ronnie.”

  “Ronnie was eighteen; I’d just turned nineteen. And I left because no one in this damn town ever leaves. I mean, they go to other Smith-run towns for vacations. Smithburg. Smithville. Smith County. But they never wanted to see what else was out there. I knew when I was five I would travel. That I would see the world. Smithtown is not the beginning and end of all things, but try and tell my daddy that.”

  “I’ve never traveled”—Mitch rested his elbow on the table and his chin on his fist—“but I’ve always wanted to.”

  Sissy pushed her empty bowl away. She loved talking about traveling. “Where would you go?”

  Mitch shrugged. “I don’t know. Anywhere, I guess.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “I’ve never even been off the East Coast.”

  Sissy sat back. “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope. And this is the farthest south I’ve traveled except of course, for Disney World in Florida, which I think every family is required to go to at some point. I believe it’s in the Constitution.”

  Sissy laughed. “Well, darlin’, we’ve gotta get you out and about.”

  “Where would you take me first?”

  Squinting, Sissy thought about it for a moment. “I’d start you off easy. I’d take you to Ireland. They speak mostly English, and you can look up your family. And the lions there are real nice.”

  “Is this one of the places you’re allowed in?”

  “Oh, yeah. Bobby Ray helped me pay that fine years ago. I’d take you to Asia, too. The major cities, to start. Tokyo, Beijing, Hong Kong. That sort of thing.”

  “What about Korea?”

  “Yeah.” Sissy wrinkled up her nose a bit. “Maybe not right now. In another ten or so years, ya know, I could definitely. . . ask.”

  “Wait. Are we talking North or South Korea?”

  “Well ... both.”

  “That’s too bad.” Mitch leaned forward a bit and looked into her empty bowl. “Guess we’ll have to find something else to do since both North and South Korea are out and you’re finally done eating.”

  Sissy slid out of her chair and backed up. “We should sleep,” she giggled.

  “Later.” He came around the table for her and pushed her up against the refrigerator. She could feel the magnets her mother loved to collect digging into her back.

  With one arm braced over her head, he used the other to slide down her neck and across her chest. His hand cupped her breast, the fingers teasing the nipple. Sissy moaned as she reached for him.

  “Besides,” he murmured, slowly going to his knees, “I never said I was finished eating.”

  Chapter 17

  Jen Lim Chow, Assistant District Attorney of Philadelphia, single mother of three, Harvard Law graduate, and leopard, pulled her rental car up to the curb next to the Sheriff’s Department offices and stepped out into the sweltering Tennessee heat.

  Christ, what was she doing here on a damn Saturday?

  Hell, she knew what she was doing here. She was trying to save her case. The biggest case of her career, and the most dangerous. One did not take down the head of a crime syndicate easily. And on first-degree murder witnessed by an undercover cop. It should have been perfect, but her major witness, the one the entire case hinged on, was now hiding in the one place he was safest from full-humans but in constant danger from a bunch of ass-sniffing canines.

  She’d grown up hearing about the Smith Packs and all the Smith-run towns. She could count on one hand the number of these towns that were open to any breed. The others were mostly canine, and Smithtown was one of those. Run by one Bubba Ray Smith. Although unknown to most of the universe, he was infamous among the shifters because the wolf could hardly be called sane. Of course, there weren’t a lot of Smiths one could call sane.

  Walking around her car and stepping onto the clean sidewalk, Jen wondered how people could live like this. She needed a city, where things were never dull. Living here would make her go crazy. Middle of the day, and only a few people on the streets. And so friggin’ quiet.

  How is this normal?

  Jen pushed open the front door of the office and sighed in pleasure at the lovely cold that hit her. On the drive over, she’d feared that Smithtown might not have the common amenities: air conditioning, cell phones, inside toilets ...

  “Hello?” she called out. When she didn’t get an answer, she sniffed the air. But that didn’t help. All she could smell was canine, canine, and more canine. To be brutally honest, she couldn’t tell the damn dogs apart and usually had no desire to try. “Anyone here?”

  “Can I help y’all with somethin’?”

  Jen had to restrain herself from making a wild leap and digging her claws into the ceiling like a frightened house cat. She had no idea where that She-wolf had come from, but she was definitely stealthy.

  “Yes. Hi.” She turned to face the female with one of her patented forced smiles. “I’m from the Philadelphia District Attorney’s Office.”

  “I see.

  Keeping that pleasant smile, “And I’m trying to find Mitch Shaw.”

  The She-wolf stared at her with those yellow dog eyes, and Jen stared right back with her much more normal gold ones. No wonder the Smiths had to live in their own towns, between the eyes and the size of these people. Christ, this woman was easily six-one, if not more, and—Jen glanced down at the She-wolf’s feet—yup! The largest feet one would ever find on a woman. Unlike the female cats, the She-wolves’ power was obvious in their body size. They could probably be starting linebackers for the Philadelphia Eagles.

  “Are ya now?”

  “Yes. I know he’s here, but I don’t know where specifically. I was hoping you or someone in your office could help me.”

  Slowly, the She-wolf walked toward her, and when she stood next to Jen, she sniffed her, and Jen would bet money that if she let her, she’d sniff her ass, too.

  The female grunted and walked over to one of the desks. She dropped into a chair and put those giant U-boats she called feet on top of the worn wood before reaching for a cell phone. She speed-dialed someone and stared at Jen while she spoke to them.

  “Hey. It’s me. Someone’s here to see Mitch. Yup.” Then she disconnected the call, placed the phone on the desk, and continued to stare at Jen.

  After three minutes or so, Jen couldn’t take it any longer. “Well ... ?”

  “He’ll be here if he’s of a mind to be.”

  Jen didn’t even know what that sentence meant, and she’d graduated Summa Cum Laude from Princeton.

  “Can’t I just go see him? I have a rental—”

  “Nope.”

  Her need to unleash her fangs almost strangled her, but Jen held it in check—barely.

  “Might as well sit,” the She-wolf told her before she remotely turned on the small color TV sitting on the desk across from her. Stock-car racing ... of course. “It m
ight take a while for him to get here.”

  “Why?”

  The She-wolf spared her one glance before she turned back to the television and basically shut Jen out.

  Taking a deep breath, Jen turned and walked to a line of plastic chairs against the wall. She sat down in it, crossed her legs, and waited.

  Mitch didn’t know they were so close to the edge of the bed until they hit the floor with Sissy on top. He was inside her, and Sissy never lost her grip even when they fell. The woman must do exercises or something because she could snap a man’s cock with that amazing pussy of hers.

  Her hands dug into his hair, and she kissed him while riding him hard. Her groans and growls made him crazy, and he gripped her hips in desperation, moving her harder and faster against him.

  They hadn’t slept. Couldn’t be bothered. It wasn’t every day you met your match in the bedroom. But Mitch had. He knew that now. He’d always had a feeling he and Sissy had similar sex drives, but he’d never known to what extent. Lionesses were pretty close, but once they were done fucking a man, they usually let him know by mauling him until he got dressed and left. But Sissy hadn’t tired yet, and the food breaks between bouts seemed to keep them going.

  Gasping, Sissy pulled away from him, her hands against his shoulders, her back bowed, her head thrown back. She ground her pussy against him, and he knew she was moments from coming. Now that she sat up, Mitch gripped her breasts, holding her nipples tight between his thumb and forefinger. He squeezed and rolled them, and Sissy gripped his wrists seconds before she came.

  Before her body even finished shaking from release, Mitch rolled them both over so he was on top. He gripped her hands and held them above her head while he drove into her again and again.

  “Yeah, yeah,” she panted seconds before she was coming again, Mitch right there with her this time.

  When he was drained completely, Mitch dropped on top of her like a load of bricks, pretty much ignoring the grunt of discomfort that followed. It wasn’t like he planned to lie there forever ... just until his eyesight cleared and that ringing in his ears stopped.

  Letting out one more satisfied sigh, Mitch rolled off Sissy and grinned when he heard her exhale.

  “You have gotta stop doin’ that. I’m not a couch to drop on.”

  “It’s not my fault.” And it wasn’t. She did this to him. She did what no other woman had ever been able to do to him before—wear him out.

  “I need food,” he told her.

  “We’re out.”

  “Don’t they have delivery around this burg?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  A voice from outside cut her off. “Sissy!”

  “Shit.” Slowly, Sissy rolled to her side and pushed the top half of her body up. She winced, and Mitch ran his hand down her back.

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” Sissy stumbled to the window, pushed it open, and leaned out. “What?”

  It took Mitch a moment, but he finally recognized Dee-Ann’s voice.

  “Woman in town to see Mitch. She’s from the DA’s office in Philadelphia.”

  “Did you check her out?”

  “The car she’s got is a rental registered to someone named Kelly Chun, but we can’t find anyone by that name in the DA’s—”

  “I know her,” Mitch cut in.

  Kelly Chun was the name ADA Jen Chow traveled under when she didn’t want anyone to know where she was. Mitch grinned. Chow must be really worried for her to not only leave a metropolitan city for a small town in the Deep South, but she’d also never been a fan of “canines” as she constantly called them. So coming to Smithtown was like a double whammy.

  “I’ve gotta go see her,” he told Sissy while he got to his feet.

  Sissy stared at him for a moment before she looked out the window. “He’ll be in town in a bit.”

  “Okay. I’ll let ’em know. She’s at the Sheriff’s office.”

  With a nod, Sissy closed the window.

  Looking him over, she said, “You may want to take a shower before you go.”

  “I plan to.” He had Sissy all over him—and he liked it.

  Mitch took her hand. “Come on.”

  “Come on where?”

  “You’re coming with me. We can get food once I check in with Jen. And you need a shower as bad as I do.” From behind her, Mitch wrapped his arms around Sissy’s body and kissed the top of her head. “I think you still have some of my love nectar in your hair.”

  “First off, stop calling it that. And second, if you ever do that to me again—”

  “I told you it was an accident.” But he still had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

  “Accident my ass,” she complained, pulling away from him and heading toward the bathroom. “There are some things that are never accidents, Mitchell Shaw, and that is definitely one of them.”

  In Sissy’s estimation, there was only one thing worse than a rich, snobby, know-it-all heifer who thought she was better than everyone else ...

  It was a rich, snobby, know-it-all cat who thought she was better than everyone else.

  As soon as they’d walked into the Sheriff’s office, Jen Chow got to her feet like she’d been forced to hang out in a Turkish prison with the inmates.

  “There you are!” she’d said. “I thought you’d never get here.”

  “Sorry. I got delayed.”

  Yeah. The delay of a quick shower that turned into a long one once Mitch shoved his head between Sissy’s thighs.

  Lord, the man was insatiable, and Sissy didn’t mind one bit. On more than one occasion, she’d been accused of being “hard to please.” And that was mostly because the male she was with wore out long before she did. By the time Sissy had turned twenty, she’d sworn off the full-human males completely since they had no hope of keeping up with her. The wolves were better, but even then, the phrase, “Would you go to sleep already?” had been tossed at her more than once.

  Mitch had been the first who’d managed to keep up with her step for step. Or thrust for thrust. Of course, now Sissy realized that setting up those boundaries had been in her best interest. She could easily get too wound up with a guy like Mitch. A completely uncontrollable male. And lions were absolutely the worst. The males lived to be catered to, and they took shit from no one, not even other lion females. They were pleasant only when they wanted to be and downright surly for no other reason than they felt like it. They were needy and demanding and expected the world to cater to them.

  Since Sissy catered to no one but herself, this attitude would definitely be a problem for her.

  But, she’d been smart. She’d set up her boundaries and knew Mitch would abide by them. Mainly because he wanted exactly what she wanted. Really good sex.

  Great sex.

  Yet while Sissy watched Jen Chow talk to Mitch, her hand on his forearm, Sissy had that feeling again. That jealous feeling. And it annoyed her like crazy.

  Chow pointed to one of the two interrogation rooms. “Let’s talk. In private,” she added, glancing at Sissy.

  “Sure.” Mitch followed behind Chow, briefly looking over his shoulder at Sissy and saying, “Be right back.”

  She nodded, faked a smile, and dropped into one of the desk chairs to wait.

  “That New York detective ... Mick something?”

  Mitch pulled out his patience. He’d forgotten how much he needed it when dealing with Jen. “You mean Dez MacDermot?”

  “Yes. Her. She believes this lioness was military trained.”

  “Makes sense.”

  She dug into her briefcase. “We pulled names and did crosschecking on those not already dead or still on duty ... and came up with these four.” She placed four photos on the table. “Recognize anyone?”

  Mitch shook his head. “Nope. This one’s cute, though.”

  “Detective,” she sighed. “Focus.”

  “I’m just saying.” He grinned, and Jen studied him for a moment.

&n
bsp; “You’re looking healthier.”

  “I’m eating better. And exercising.”

  “Is that what they call it?”

  “I’m on the football team.”

  “The foo—” Jen pushed back from the table and got up to pace. “Don’t you understand my entire case hinges on you?”

  “And I’m still breathing. So I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

  “This isn’t a vacation for you to spend time playing around with dogs, Detective.”

  Slowly, Mitch stood. “And I almost died. And if it hadn’t been for that dog outside, I would have. So watch how you talk about these people. I’d hate for my memory to fade, Counselor.”

  Jen held her hands up and stepped back from him. She’d gotten so far so fast in her career by knowing when to push and when to back off.

  “I’m sorry if I offended you. And I think it’s a good idea if you stay here for now.” She walked around the table to get her briefcase, but Mitch knew it was to put some distance between her and the unstable, dog-loving male lion she was trapped in here with. “They were on me the moment I drove past the welcome sign. I’m sure they’ll do no less for any cat who drives into this town.”

  At the half-hour mark, Sissy realized “Be right back” might be relative, and she pushed away from the desk, wandering out of the building. It was a typical Tennessee summer day—hot and hazy. She wandered down Main Street, checking out the stores and seeing if there was anything she wanted to buy. Of course, with most of her budget going to feeding one oversized cat, she really didn’t have much play room until her next paycheck. But she loved to look, and if she was feeling particularly evil, she could always charge it to her momma’s account. Nothing entertained her more than those early-morning calls with her momma screaming about how she wasn’t made of money.

  When Sissy walked past that alley and heard a noise, she assumed it was her Uncle Eggie Dumpster diving again. But when she went around the Dumpster, she found her old Aunt Ju-ju hiding behind it.

  “Aunt Ju-ju!” She crouched beside her. “Darlin’, what are you doing here?”

 

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