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Authors: Shelly Laurenston

BOOK: The Mane Attraction
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She sounded so sincere, so upset, so traumatized that Mitch could do nothing
but
torture her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He pushed her hand off his leg, and Sissy reared back in surprise.
“Huh?”
“You heard me. Don’t you think I know what you’re doing?”
“What I’m doing?”
“Trying to use me. To entice me to play on your team.”
“Mitch, of course I’m not—”
“
I’m not a whore!
”
Sissy rolled her eyes. “Mitchell ...”
“I see how this works.”
“How what works?”
He moved further away, giving her his best ingénue stare. “First, you sit next to me—a little
too
close—wearing those sexy tight shorts and that begging-to-be-torn-off tank top. Then a few innocent touches in all my favorite naughty areas, of which I have many.”
Sissy slapped her hands against her thighs. “Mitchell Shaw!”
“And before I know it, I’m on my back, and you’re having your dirty, disgusting way with me. Just so I’ll play for your team.”
She looked up at the ceiling as if asking it for guidance. “Why do our conversations get so strange?”
“And because I’m weak ... and your breasts are so large and full—”
“Good Lord.”
“—I’ll succumb to your She-wolf wiles and agree to play your damn game.”
“Or you could just cut the bullshit and agree to play.”
“I could. But I figured this was a better way of getting you to agree to let me look down your shirt.”
“Mitchell!”
Laughing, he held his hands up. “Okay. Okay. I’ll play.”
“Only if you want to. Only if—”
“On one condition.”
“I’m not letting you see down my top.”
“We both know you will eventually, sweet cheeks.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“But before I put on a pad or pick up a ball ...”
“Yeah ... ?”
“I wanna know who the hell Clyde is.”
Sissy fell back on the couch, her knees raised, her bare feet digging into the cushions. She always looked so sexy like that. “You can’t be serious.”
“Tell me, or I go play for the bears.”
She shrugged. Sighed. “I’m not sure you’re ready for this. Clyde ... means a lot to me. He knows how to touch all my favorite—what did you call them?—naughty places.”
“Bears,” he growled.
“Fine,” she replied stoically. “If you insist.”
“I insist.”
“Come on then. We have some time before today’s practice, which I’m sure Travis wants you at. But I really hope you’re ready for this.”
He did not like the sound of that.
Chapter 10
M
itch stepped out of the rental car and glanced around. Sissy had parked them beside a small but nice home that sat right in the middle of a ton of property. Growing up in Philly, Mitch was used to the small covered backyard his mom’s Pride had. All this property stunned him. Lots of trees with small rivers and big lakes.
Now Mitch understood why Bren had no problem coming out here to visit Ronnie Lee’s family. All Mitch had to do was sit outside on Sissy’s porch drinking coffee, and he’d see deer and elk dashing by. Of course, it kept him in a state of constant hunger.
“This is Clyde’s house?”
“Nope. This is my brother’s house.”
Mitch smirked. “Which one? You’ll have to be more specific than that.”
“Ha-ha.”
“
Aunt Sissy!”
a young voice screeched, then Sissy was besieged by five kids who looked barely a year apart. What his mom would call Catholic Twins.
Sissy picked up the smallest one and swung her around while the others surrounded her.
“How are my favorite little terrors?” she asked.
“Fine,” they said in unison before inundating their aunt with ... well, who knew. Mitch couldn’t understand them as each yelled to be heard over the other.
The kids were a dirty mess, but that was to be expected since Mitch doubted they’d spent more then ten minutes in the house all day. And shifter kids played rough instinctively. The way they played today would be the way they hunted down dinner tomorrow.
“Where’s your momma?” Sissy finally asked after amazing Mitch with the way she’d been able to follow what each child said and comment on it so no one felt left out.
“In the house,” they all said ... or yelled, depending on your perspective.
“Y’all tell her to meet us at the barn. Okay?”
She placed the smallest child on her feet, and the children ran for the house. “Sammy has five more kids somewhere around here.”
“Wow.”
Sissy gave him a small smile. “I sure do love kids,” she said before heading off to the back of the house and the barn. But he heard the last thing she said quite clearly, “As long as they ain’t mine.”
They walked toward the barn, and Mitch asked, “Is Clyde a cow?”
“No. You know we can’t have cows around here. They stampede so easy.”
Sissy grabbed the handles on the barn door and pushed them in opposite directions.
“This is Clyde,” she said with real pride. But Mitch barely heard her. He was too busy wondering if a man could come without actually ejaculating. Because nothing, absolutely nothing had ever been so beautiful before. So sexy. So ... so ...
So goddamn hot!
“Hey, Sissy Mae.” A pretty She-wolf with bright blue eyes walked up to them. “Haven’t seen you in an age.”
“Hey, Violet. This is Mitch Shaw.”
She gave him a friendly nod. “Hey.” Mitch managed a sort of half-ass wave.
“Where’s my brother?”
“Where else? At the diner. Gotta make sure we can feed this pack of rabid dogs.”
Sissy held her hand out. “Gimme.”
Violet shook her head and laughed. “You ain’t never gonna change, Sissy Mae Smith.”
“Not unless it’s court ordered.”
Violet slapped a set of keys into Sissy’s hand and walked off, leaving them alone.
“Where did you get this?” Mitch finally asked, moving slowly around the beauty before him.
“We built it,” she said simply, but Mitch couldn’t help but stare at her in shock.
“This is it? This is the car you talked about rebuilding?”
“Yeah.” She walked up to the 1971 Chevrolet Chevelle Malibu and ran her hand lovingly down the hood. “When me and Ronnie Lee were about fifteen, our fathers gave us enough money to buy our own cars. And let me tell you, it was not a lot of money. But they’d gotten real tired of us stealing their cars, and the sheriff at the time said if he caught us hot-wiring another car, he’d definitely throw us in jail. Anyway, they figured we’d get some piece of shit car that would tool us around town. You know, something your grandmother would drive. Instead, we went to the junkyard and found the battered husks for this Malibu and another for a ’71 Plymouth Barracuda. Ronnie wanted that one cause she always did love that song by Heart. What money we had left, we started buying parts. When we ran out of money, we started working around town. And we are talking some shitty jobs until we got something steady at Travis’s gas station. He taught us a lot about cars and engines. And we put some others together, like the Camaro Dee-Ann’s got.”
Using the tips of her fingers, she ran her hands along the roof. “It took us over two years to build this one and Ronnie’s, but damn if it wasn’t worth it.”
“Why is it here?”
“When we left the country, we left the cars in the safest places we could think of. I left mine with Sammy Ray ’cause next to Smitty, I knew I could trust him not to sell it or do anything to it. Ronnie left hers at her momma’s ’cause she knew that woman wouldn’t let anyone near that car. She’d never admit it, but she was real proud of Ronnie Lee doing such a good job.”
“They should be proud of both of you. This is amazing.”
Sissy grinned. “This is Clyde. I haven’t taken him out in ages, but I dream about it a lot.”
Mitch laughed. “Hence the groaning his name?”
“Pretty much. But can you blame me?”
“Not a bit.” He was moaning now.
“Come on, Mitchell. Let’s go for a drive.”
Mitch shook his head. “Forget it, Smith. I’m not ready to have any gray hairs in my tawny mane, thank you very much.”
“To quote my daddy, don’t be such a pussy.”
“But I am a pussy.”
She folded her hands together as if praying. “How about I make you a promise to stay in the speed limit? I’ll take you around town for a bit.” She leaned forward, those pretty eyes wicked. “Come on, pretty kitty. You know you want to.”
Christ, did he want to.
“Fine. But you promised.”
Sissy squealed and pulled open the door. The fact that the car was unlocked, even in this barn, was a testament to the safety of this little town. It was run by predators, however. So steal at your own risk.
The engine turned over, and like a well-fed puma, it purred to life. Mitch squirmed a bit in the seat.
“Whatever you’re doing over there ... stop it.”
“Can’t help it.” Mitch reached over to the radio Sissy had put in. It had a cassette player, and Mitch smiled, remembering his own. “Let’s see what tunes our lovely Sissy used to listen to back in the day.” He turned it on and after a few bars, looked at her. “Sissy ... honestly.”
“What? This is my ‘get out of town’ tunes.”
“Led Zeppelin’s ‘Ramble On’?”
“And Lynyrd Skynyrd’s ‘Free Bird’ and Golden Earring’s ‘Radar Love.’ If it was about driving away or leaving, it was on this cassette. So sit back and enjoy the Sissy experience.”
“There’s so much to mock there, I’ll just leave it alone.”
Slowly, she pulled out of the barn, and Sammy Ray’s kids stood on the porch with their mother, chanting, “Clyde, Clyde, Clyde,” over and over again.
“Remember what you promised me, Sissy Mae Smith.”
She sighed. “I remember, you big wussy.”
The way she drove? Damn right he was a wuss.
 
 
Francine Lewis looked up from her accounting paperwork, scowling as her younger sister came rushing through her office door. She didn’t have a lot of time in the day to manage the money side of their business, and any interruptions annoyed her. When they closed their pie shop at the end of the day, Francine didn’t want to worry about anything. Instead, she liked to go home to her mate and relax, maybe hunt something down.
“What is it, Janette?”
“The old woman has been at Sissy again.”
Francine’s hand paused over the adding machine. “When?”
“Two nights ago.”
“And?”
“You know Sissy. She put ’em off, but I don’t like it.” Janette dropped in the chair across from her sister’s desk. “If Janie comes back and finds out—”
“Okay. Stop. This is Sissy we’re talking about. She’s not stupid, and let’s face it, she’s got that big cat to care for.”
“She offers all them Smiths power. And Sissy likes power.”
“She’s just like her momma when it comes to that. But Sissy likes power she has full control over.” Francine pushed her hair out of her face, annoyed it was in her eyes. “No, I don’t think we have anything to worry about. She knows to stay away from them.”
“I hope you’re right.”
So did Francine. They couldn’t afford to lose Sissy to that bitch on the hill. They’d never get her back if that ever happened. And no one really knew the extent that woman would go to obtain and keep her power. And she’d go further than most.
“I trust Sissy. She’s crazy, but she won’t do anything that will make her stay here forever.”
Janette snorted a laugh. “You got a point there.”
Chapter 11
S
issy tooled Mitch around town for a good two hours, showing him her high school, where she and her crew of junior She-wolves used to hang out when they weren’t picking on the weaker Omegas. Even where she’d been arrested the first time.
“And see that tree over there?” she asked him, pointing at the giant oak off the main road.
“Yeah.”
“I fucked under that tree.” She nodded at the memory. “It was nice.”
“And thank you for that visual.”
What Mitch didn’t know was she couldn’t remember having this much fun before with a man when sex wasn’t involved. Most guys bored her right quick, and on more than one occasion, she’d looked at Ronnie and said, “I think those lion females have the right idea. Fuckin’ and protection only. Not sure what else good they’re for.” Then she’d go back to hanging out with her She-wolves who, even when they annoyed the living hell out of her, she found vastly entertaining.
But she simply liked having Mitch around. He made her laugh ... and not just
at
him either.
“I don’t know why I’m bothering asking but ... you hungry?”
“I thought you’d never ask. I’m starving.”
“Shocking.” She thought a moment. “There’s a steak house near the edge of town. It gets a mixed clientele, but the food is really good.”
“Good enough.”
“And since your kind comes in now and again,” she said, pulling up to a light, “they should have enough to feed your bottomless pit of a stomach.”
Sitting at the light, the sound of an engine revving beside them had Sissy leaning over Mitch to look through the window. Immediately, she grinned.
“Roll down the window.”
Mitch did, his mouth open in shock.
“What are y’all doin’ here? I thought we were gonna wait—”
“Trust me. We had to come. But we can catch up later.” Ronnie Lee grinned from the comfort of her ’71 yellow Barracuda, glancing up at the light and back at Sissy.
Now Sissy grinned as the pair stared at each other.
“Don’t even think it,” Brendon Shaw warned his mate. “I mean it, Ronnie Lee.”
Mitch’s head snapped around, and he glared at Sissy. “You promised me!”
Sissy turned back to face forward as the light dropped to green. “I lied,” she said simply before gunning the engine.
 
 
Mitch gripped the dashboard. If his love of cars didn’t border on the religious, he’d have started ripping that dashboard apart. But he simply couldn’t. He simply couldn’t do that to this beauty. So instead, he held on for dear life and prayed to any available higher powers for help.
But when he wasn’t trying not to pee his pants in fear, Mitch had to secretly admire the way these two females handled cars. Ronnie hit a tight turn, and Sissy was right with her. She didn’t flinch; she didn’t even look stressed. At one point, she even said, “Did you see that?”
“See what?” And he couldn’t keep his voice from breaking as tires squealed.
“Boot sale at Marlands. We are so going back there later.”
How she even saw that he’d never know. He couldn’t do anything but stare blindly at the upcoming road, praying that something wouldn’t suddenly appear. They quickly took the race out of downtown and to the backwoods. Now Mitch understood why the roads were so wide. So two cars could race side by side. From what Mitch could tell, the entire town—not just the Smiths—was filled with the descendants of bootleggers who, when they weren’t running from the local law, were racing each other for kicks.
Ronnie passed Sissy, and Sissy let out a curse, but not in English.
“Was that German?”
“Cursing in German sounds much cooler, don’t ya think?”
He didn’t have time to answer as Sissy shot past Ronnie, her evil cackle doing nothing but making his already queasy stomach a little queasier.
Mitch gripped the dashboard tighter as Ronnie pulled up beside them, the two of them hitting speeds that couldn’t be remotely legal in any country on the planet.
“Are you praying?” she asked.
“I was raised a good Irish Catholic. When you know you’re gonna die, you pray.”
“Oh, calm the—
fuck!”
Mitch’s head snapped up in time to see a Smithtown sheriff’s car parked sideways, completely blocking the road. The sheriff leaning against the door, his arms crossed over his chest—he’d been waiting for them.
“Sissy ...”
She didn’t answer, too busy hitting the brakes and spinning the car to the left, while Ronnie spun hers to the right so they wouldn’t collide with each other in their effort to not hit the sheriff.
When they came to a screeching, squealing, grinding stop, Mitch realized his side of the car was about five inches away from a rather enormous tree. Visions of him and the car wrapped around that tree trunk did nothing for his current lack of equilibrium.
Gripping the steering wheel, Sissy had her eyes shut and kept muttering, “Shit, shit, shit,” over and over again. Although Mitch didn’t think her current chant had anything to do with their near miss of the tree. He was positive of that fact when the bullhorn went off.
“
Sissy. Mae. Smith. Get. Your. Ass. Out. Of. The. Car—Now!”
Sissy cringed even as she reached for the door handle. She’d barely gotten it open when a big hand reached in, grabbed her by the ear, and dragged her out.
“O www!”
“Barely back two days, and already I find you breaking every law ever put on the damn books.”
“We weren’t doin’ nothin’,” she argued, sounding remarkably like a ten-year-old.
“Keep that mouth shut, Sissy Mae.
Ronnie Lee Reed, get your ass over here!”
Mitch needed to get out of the car, but the passenger side was simply too close to that tree. So he had to do some fancy finagling to drag his big body out of the car and through the driver’s side. His brother grabbed him under the shoulders and helped him out the last few inches. Once he stood, the two brothers stared at each other and then threw themselves into each other’s arms, sobbing.
They were just so glad to be alive.
 
 
When Ronnie Lee jabbed her lightly in the ribs, Sissy never expected to look over and see Mitch and his brother hugging like they’d just been helped off the
Titanic
. When Sissy’s gaze moved back to Ronnie’s, they both rolled their eyes at the unlimited drama two cats could create.
“
Are you listening to me?
”
Sissy’s body jerked at the booming words, and she turned back around. “Yes, sir.”
“When’s your daddy coming home?”
With a shrug, Sissy said, “Got me.”
“
You don’t know?
”
Cringing away from the yelling, Sissy shook her head.
“And I guess your parents are with them, Ronnie Lee.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you two think you can just come here and start up where you left off twelve years ago?”
“We didn’t do anything,” Sissy said again.
“Quiet!” The sheriff walked over to Ronnie Lee and stood in front of her. “What have I always told you? She’s a bad seed, and you should stay away from her.”
“Uncle Jeb, that’s not fair.”
“And how come you always blame me?” Suddenly, a finger was in Sissy’s face. Sissy always called that the “cop finger.” Cops were the only breed she knew who could point that one forefinger at you and make you shut up immediately. Hell, Dez did it all the time.
“I clocked y’all goin’ a hundred and seventy-five.”
“
Jesus Christ! What do you have under that hood?
” When they all stared at him, Mitch simply shrugged. “I’m curious.”
“Now both y’all listen up and listen up good. You get in one more bit of trouble, and I’ll come down on you like the Archangel Gabriel himself. Understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” Ronnie answered.
But Sissy didn’t say anything, and Ronnie’s uncle stood in front of her waiting for that answer. They locked gazes, and Sissy didn’t back down. She never did. She really didn’t know how.
“Sissy promises too,” Ronnie said, pushing her uncle back toward the car.
With a snarl, the sheriff walked off, but not before tossing over his shoulder, “She’s just like her momma.”
She knew he’d said it on purpose. A low blow, but she still nearly had her hands around his throat when a strong arm grabbed her around the waist and yanked her back. She swung wildly ordering the sheriff to, “take that back, you bastard!”
But he only laughed at her and drove off.
Mitch wrapped his arms around her rage-shaking body and kissed her scalp. “Calm down.”
“He blames me for everything. I never did a damn thing to him, and he hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” Ronnie corrected her. “He just doesn’t like you.”
“Thanks.”
“Come on.” Ronnie smiled. “Let’s get out of here. I think we both need a beer.”
“I’m hungry,” both Shaw brothers stated simultaneously.
“Guess we better go to Sammy Ray’s diner then,” Sissy sighed. “I definitely don’t have enough food for the both of ya, and the steakhouse needs reservations made twenty-four hours in advance when you’re coming in with more than one male lion.”
“One of our kind tried to kill Mitch?”
“Yeah.” Ronnie put a paper napkin on her lap before looking back at Sissy. “Can you believe it? Where’s the loyalty?”
“I don’t know. Sounds like Mitchy here just pissed off some Pride, and they want revenge.”
“Stop calling me that. Only my mother can call me that because she was in labor for eighteen hours. And no Pride would fuck with me because no one wants to fuck with my mother.”
“That’s true,” Brendon confirmed while taking food off Ronnie’s plate—clearly to her annoyance. “The O’Neill Pride may not be in the Llewellyn ranks, but they are definitely feared and breed a lot of females. Personally, I agree with Dez. Some cat is being paid a lot of money to kill Mitch.”
“I’m surprised O’Farrell would even hire a woman. He doesn’t trust them to do anything but cook and—” He stopped talking when he looked up to see Sissy and Ronnie staring at him. “Forget it.”
“He may not have hired her. You do have a bounty on that big head.”
“You could stay lion all the time.” Now everyone stared at Ronnie.
“Why?” Sissy had to ask.
“I’m sure O’Farrell wants proof of Mitch’s death before he’ll pay up. And this lioness would know if she kills him as cat, he stays cat. Not like she’ll be able to prove dick then.”
“Wow.” Mitch nodded in approval. “That’s not remotely as stupid as it sounds.”
“Thanks.”
“But I can’t.” Mitch took a roll off Sissy’s plate, and she debated chopping his hands off.
“Why not?”
“Can’t play if I’m cat all the time.”
“Play?” Brendon glanced between them. “Play what?”
Sissy glanced at the clock on the wall of her brother’s diner. “Lord, Mitchell, we better move if we’re gonna make this practice on time.”
“Practice?” Brendon’s eyes narrowed. “Practice for what?”
Mitch gave a dramatic sigh. “You’re not gonna believe this, bruh, but in order to stay here, I have to play football.”
Sissy saw Ronnie wince seconds before Brendon’s hand slammed against the table. “
How come he gets to play?
”
“Now, darlin’,” Ronnie rubbed his forearm, “there’s no use gettin’ upset.”
“It’s not fair. I’m as good as him.”
“Is that why they call you Mr. Fumble Paws?”
Sissy barely ducked in time as that roll came flying at her head courtesy of Ronnie Lee.

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