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Authors: Shelly Laurenston

BOOK: The Mane Attraction
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Chapter 19
B
rendon looked at his brother while they waited for practice to start. Mitch was looking really good these days. Healthier. Stronger. Happier ... except at this moment. He looked unusually cranky. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” Mitch cracked his neck. “But let me tell you, food is not a substitute for sex. At least not good sex.”
Ahhhh.
Now Brendon got it.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Ronnie was exhausted when she got home last night. She only had energy for one round.”
Mitch slowly turned toward his brother, and Brendon took a step back. “But it was barely even once. I mean, by the time we were done, she was out cold, and ... uh ... I’m gonna stop talking now.”
Travis jogged up to them, a ball in his hand. “You guys ready?”
“
Don’t I look ready?”
Mitch grabbed the ball from Travis. “Let’s get this fuckin’ thing started.”
A shocked Travis—and Brendon had never seen the man show anything but cool indifference—watched Mitch storm away.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
“Yeah. Everything is fine.” Brendon shrugged. “But ya know what would be a good idea? Playing in our gear. Pads, helmet ... all of it. Just to be ... uh ... safe.”
They turned and watched Mitch pass the ball to one of his teammates. It hit him dead in the chest, and Brendon winced because he was positive he heard bones breaking.
Travis nodded. “Probably a good idea.”
 
 
Sissy waved away the tires she didn’t want. “These are good.” She tapped the chosen ones. “We’ll take these, and we want eight more sets for racing day.”
The seller nodded and walked off. Sissy grabbed one of the tires and rolled it toward her car.
Her arms hurt. She was tired. And dammit, she was horny as a rabbit on hormones. But like most canines, once Sissy made a commitment, she stuck to it.
Besides, apparently, the lions were ahead in the betting pool among the three towns. True, it had been years since Sissy had done one of these races, but she hadn’t lost her skill. Or her almost rabid desire to win.
She blamed her momma for this. All of it. This particular rivalry started back before Sissy had even been born and had been passed down from the Lewis females to their daughters. The last time Sissy raced, she’d broken her collarbone, but Ronnie had won, and the Barron Pride had yet to let it go. They could hold a grudge, and so could the Lewis sisters.
Still, Sissy knew her momma wouldn’t let her daughter race if she were around. Not after she’d had to nurse a whining and unhappy Sissy back to health. More than once, Janie Mae had told anyone who would listen, “That had to be the longest three days of my life, waiting for that damn collarbone to heal.”
Sissy almost hated her family for making her do the one thing she’d swore she’d never do ... need her momma.
“Let’s get these tires on,” she grumbled, beginning to sound like her daddy.
Dee, who seemed totally in her element, practically skipped over to the car.
Sissy scowled at her cousin, her hands on her waist. “If you don’t tone the cheer down, I’m gonna beat the shit out of you.”
Dee cleared her throat and grabbed hold of the tire. “All right then.”
 
 
Travis pulled his helmet off and motioned to Donnie, who limped over.
“What’s the deal?” Travis asked his brother once he’d limped close enough.
“Well, to be blunt ... he ain’t gettin’ any.”
Travis watched Mitch take down an offensive linemen. The entire team winced when they heard poor Bart hit the ground.
Mitch was one of those players who could play any position on a team. Wherever you needed him, he’d fit and then he’d excel. And the more he watched the boy play, the more Travis realized he needed this kid. Not just for this particular game—he’d probably be wide receiver in this game—but other serious competitions they’d have over the next few years.
The problem was Sissy. She’d be the key to Mitch coming back to town when they needed him. But Sissy didn’t stick with any man for long. The other side of the problem was when Sissy was putting out, she drained the boy until he was damn near useless.
A conundrum as his daddy would say.
“When’s the race?”
“Wednesday. Everybody’s gonna be there.”
Of course everyone would be there. Nothing like a little competition between the females. The full-humans could keep their mud wrestling and wet T-shirt competitions. Travis would happily bypass all that to watch a showdown between women who’d rip the flesh from your bones when annoyed.
“All right. Let’s call off practice. We’ll go help Sissy.”
Donnie tilted his head in surprise. “All right.”
 
 
Sissy continued to bang out the dent on the front end when she saw boots standing next to her. Slowly, she looked up from her crouched position and sneered.
“What do you want?”
Travis Ray smiled, and Sissy bared a fang.
He held his hands up, palms out. “I only came to help.”
“You? Help me?” Sissy stood. “Why?”
“Can’t a brother simply help his—”
“Try again.”
“Our loyalty is to—”
“Again.”
Travis shrugged. “Five to one in the lions’ favor. But if y’all win, I can clean up.”
Sissy nodded. “Yeah. That sounds about right.” She handed him the hammer. “Guess you better get to work then, hoss.”
 
 
Mitch opened the family room door and walked in. As soon as he stepped inside, the smell of food cooking hit him right between the eyes. He dropped the football equipment the team had given him and headed straight toward the kitchen. Sissy sat on the counter, her legs banging the cabinet doors underneath, a racing magazine open on her lap.
She looked up and smiled. “Hey. Dinner should be ready in another—oh!”
Mitch picked her up and started to carry her toward the stairs. Quickly decided that was too far and dropped her on the kitchen table.
“Mitchell—”
He covered her mouth with his hand. “Not a time to talk. Just get those shorts and panties off. Now.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Again with the talking?”
“Just turn the heat off on the stew.”
He turned and quickly shut off the flame heating their dinner. When he turned back around, she was just getting her shorts unsnapped.
“Too. Slow.” He grabbed hold of the shorts and yanked them down her legs before reaching for her panties and ripping those off completely. He had his own sweats halfway past his ass when Sissy shook her head. “What now?”
“Condoms. And don’t snap at me.”
He turned and reached into the far cabinet, moving a few things around and finally pulling out a big box of condoms. When he turned back, Sissy looked absolutely outraged. “Are you high? Putting those up there? What if my parents came home and we—”
“They were already there.”
Sissy blinked. “What?”
“The box was already there. I’m assuming your parents had it—”
She squealed and dived off the table.
“Where the hell are you going?”
“My parents”—she pointed at the table—“they’ve done it on this table.”
“Yeah. Probably. And now we are. Get your ass over here.”
She squealed again, sounding remarkably like a girl. “I’m not doing it on there ... where my parents have ... have ...
done it.
”
“It’s been cleaned.”
“That’s not the point!”
“You’re being ridiculous. Your parents have condoms stashed all over this house. I’m sure—”
That’s when she squealed and ran.
“We’re going to a hotel,” she yelled as she ran up the stairs. “Or ... or live in the car! Anything but staying here!”
Mitch grabbed a condom from the box, kicked his sweatpants and sneakers and socks off, and ran up the stairs after Sissy. He found her in her room, shoving clothes into the duffel bags they’d brought with them.
“Dirty, disgusting, out-of-control old people,” she raged under her breath. “If they have sex at all, it should be in their bed, under the covers, with the door closed and locked.” She stood tall and spun around to face him. “What if their grandchildren had come to visit and found them doin’ it on the table like a couple of ... of ...”
“Wolves?”
“Shut up.” She threw up her hands. “We can’t stay here. It’s that simple.”
“No,” Mitch said, yanking the clothes she had clutched in her fist and tossing it across the room. “What’s simple is that I have needs. Needs that need to be fulfilled. Now.”
Hands on naked hips, “I ain’t no whore, Mitchell Shaw. You got some needs you need taken care of, you go right on over to one of those full-human towns and get yourself a hooker.”
Mitch grabbed her T-shirt and yanked her close.
“Hey!”
“Do you think that just
anyone
can help me right now? I don’t want anyone, Sissy Mae. I want you. I want you now. Naked, wet, and ready. I know I could get a hooker. I could have gotten one last night. I don’t want that. I want you, on that bed, legs spread wide ... now
move!”
 
 
Should she be worried that was the nicest, most romantic thing any male had said to her? Probably. But it was. If she were a melting kind of gal, she’d be a puddle of chocolate at his feet.
Instead, she lifted her head up high and walked over to the bed. She pulled off her T-shirt and tossed it over her shoulder. Slowly, she crept up on the side of the bed, making sure to give him her best ass wiggle. When she heard him growl, she turned, lying on her back. She spread her legs, bent her knees, and motioned to him with the crook of her finger.
Mitch pulled his T-shirt over his head and walked toward her. He knelt on the edge of the bed, placing the condom by the pillow. Watching her, Mitch slid his arms under her knees, lifting them and pulling her down the bed a bit. He lowered his head and buried his face between her thighs.
When his tongue speared her pussy, Sissy gasped, her arms reaching wildly around her. It wasn’t merely his tongue either, but the way Mitch used it. He licked every fold, every crease, anything and everything he could reach ... and Lord knew, there wasn’t much he couldn’t reach with that tongue.
Sissy tried to grasp something to hold her anchored to the spot. But she was spread out across the bed, the headboard and footboard too far away to reach. And Mitch didn’t let up. He ate at her like a starving man, bringing her up and up only to pull back before she could come. She’d hate him if she wasn’t falling—
No.
No, no, no, no. Dammit! She had to remember her own boundaries. She couldn’t let the most amazing head she’d ever experienced—absolutely
ever
—get her to change her own rules. Her rules, unlike the rules of some countries she’d visited, were not made to be broken. Even by her.
Finally, Sissy reached down and buried her hands in Mitch’s hair. His mouth latched onto her clit and sucked, sending her screaming into an orgasm that would blind a lesser woman.
As her body shook, Mitch pulled away. But only for a moment. Then he was back, his condom-covered cock slamming into her.
Sissy arched, cried out again. Mitch gripped her hands, pinning them by her head as he fucked her. He stared down into her face and smiled. “Christ, I missed you.”
Worried she’d say something stupid, Sissy raised herself as much as she could and kissed Mitch. She could still taste herself on his mouth and tongue, and he took perverse delight in rubbing his wet face all over hers.
They laughed and fucked and came, and Sissy couldn’t shake the feeling that something huge had just changed in her life.
Chapter 20
H
e figured they’d go to some field in neutral territory and race there. Once again, Mitch had been seriously wrong. Like the “field” in the middle of Smithtown, the “track” in the middle of the bear-run Collinstown could give Daytona a run for its money. And even more interesting was the fact that a race involving six women had drawn this kind of crowd. The stands were filled with shifter locals and any full-human mates they might have.
The usual beer and hot dogs were being sold, but they were also selling high-end paraphernalia, including T-shirts, sweatshirts, and jackets, all sporting the town names. It was kind of cute in an overly obsessive way. With a city, there were simply too many full-humans to ever get away with events like this and not have anyone notice. But here, they could simply enjoy being the out-of-control shifters they were. Mitch had to admit he loved it.
He couldn’t imagine living out here full time, but there was a part of him, a part that he wasn’t examining too closely, that kept seeing him and Sissy showing up from time to time. Eating pie, playing ball, freaking out because her parents still had a healthy sex life. Yeah, he was finding it easier and easier to imagine. Which reminded him that Sissy was something he could never have full time. Once he went back to Philly, it had to end.
Putting his feet up on the railing, Mitch said, “Are you and Ronnie happy?”
Brendon shrugged. “I guess. I mean, I’m happy. I think she’s happy. When she isn’t, she usually has no problem telling me.”
Mitch grinned. “In detail.”
“One time she pulled out a graph with charts.” Brendon sipped his beer. “What about you and Sissy?”
“What about us?”
“Come on, bruh. I’m not blind. You two are getting way into each other.”
“It can’t last.”
“So you keep saying, but that hasn’t stopped either of you from—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.”
“Then what the hell are you doing?”
“Do I look like I know what I’m doing?”
Sissy’s aunts moved into the seats behind them, and both Mitch and Bren began to stand up.
“Y’all sit right back down.” Miss Francine motioned them down with a wave of her hands. “Don’t mind us.”
Mitch glanced back and frowned. “No Smith males?”
“Oh, darlin’, they’re all with Sissy and the others, getting those cars ready.”
Mitch chuckled. “Really? All of them?”
Miss Francine shook her head. “I know. Poor dears.”
 
 
If her uncle hadn’t stepped between her and Jackie, Sissy would have decked the big baby.
Her uncle motioned Jackie away with a move of his head. “You sure do have your daddy’s temper,” he said with a warm smile.
“He started it, Uncle Bud.”
“I know. I know. But you need to concentrate on your immediate situation. Lord knows, you can beat that idiot up anytime you want.”
“You’re right.”
“And guess who dragged himself out of the woods to see you?” Bud stepped aside, and Sissy’s eyes widened.
“Uncle Eggie!” She jumped into the older wolf’s arms. This meant a lot to her. Everyone knew there wasn’t a lot that could get Eggie to shift to human, put on clothes, and be around everyone else as human except his mate and daughter.
“Hey there, little gal.” His voice rumbled like ground up gravel. You felt his words more than actually heard them. “You take care of them cats for your Uncle Eggie.”
“I will.” She kissed his cheek, and Dee wrapped her arms around her father’s shoulders from behind.
“Hey, Daddy.”
“Hey, sugar bug, I want y’all to be careful out there. Remember—cats don’t play nice.”
Sissy cracked her knuckles and glanced over at Paula Jo Barron and her sisters. “Not a problem,” she muttered.
 
 
All Mitch did was ask a simple question. “How many laps?” Which prompted Brendon to launch into his knowledge of NASCAR rules that Mitch could really give a shit about at the moment.
“And do you want to know the difference between speedways and—”
“No.” Mitch looked over his shoulder at the aunts. “How many laps?”
“Usually about twenty.”
Mitch and Brendon looked at each other and back at the aunts.
“Uh ... that doesn’t sound very challenging.”
They all smiled, which didn’t make Mitch feel any better.
The National Anthem played over the speakers, and everyone stood up except Mitch and Brendon, who didn’t really think about it until Francine popped them both in the back of the head.
After they did their duty as Americans, they sat back down, and Mitch watched the cars roll onto the track.
Six. There were only six cars.
Again, looking over his shoulder, “Are there only six racing?”
“Yup,” Francine said, offering him a cherry lifesaver, which he took since he was getting a little hungry.
Mitch and Brendon passed another glance. “Something’s not right.” Mitch now turned his upper body so he could look directly at the women behind him. “What’s going on? What aren’t you telling us?”
“It doesn’t really matter what we’re not telling you, does it? Since neither of you can do a damn thing about it now, huh?”
“
What kind of response is that?
”
“Shit.”
Bren said it low, and to anyone else, they might not be alarmed, but Mitch was. He immediately turned around to look at the track and realized the cars were already tearing down the asphalt. At first, it looked like any other race, except there were only six cars on the track and three of them were different shades of gold. Then one of the lighter gold cars with the number 48 emblazoned on the side slammed into Ronnie Lee’s cherry red one. Not a tap, a full slam, nearly forcing her into the wall.
“
Shit.”
Mitch leaned forward, and just as he figured, Sissy, in the black car, pulled up. First, she rammed 48 from behind, pulled around, and slammed into her from the side. The gold car rammed into the wall, and Mitch figured she’d stay out. But the lioness didn’t. She pulled back onto the track. Even more amazing, no penalty flag for either move, nor did the cars slow down. Mitch wasn’t a hard-core racing fan, but he knew some of the rules from when he’d catch NASCAR racing on his Sundays off.
Apparently, none of those rules applied here.
“It’s like Roller Derby in cars.”
“I’ll kill her,” Bren growled. “If she lives through this, I’m gonna fucking kill her.”
And Mitch understood exactly how his brother felt, and he didn’t like it one damn bit.
 
 
Sissy hit her brakes and barely missed getting battered by Paula Jo. Like Sissy, Paula Jo’s purpose wasn’t to make the last lap at the best time. That role was for her sister Lucy and Ronnie Lee. The role of Sissy, Dee, Paula Jo, and Paula Jo’s middle sister, Karen Jane, was to make sure either Ronnie Lee or Lucy didn’t make that last lap at all. They definitely shouldn’t cross the finish line, if at all possible.
They had exactly twenty laps to either stop the other team or protect their teammate. It was a brutal game born from a minor accident that abruptly turned into what normal, law-abiding people nowadays termed “road rage.” And only the females competed because the males, “just ain’t crazy enough,” Sissy’s granddaddy had explained one day.
Sissy shifted and tore up next to Paula Jo. She was about to slam into her when Paula Jo beat her to it, forcing Sissy into a spin that nearly took her out completely. Then Paula Jo went after Ronnie Lee.
“That bitch.”
And now, Sissy was pissed.
Mitch blew out a breath. “Okay. Now she’s pissed.”
Bren’s eyes never left the track. “How do you know?”
“I know.”
And as if to prove his point, Sissy tore up the middle of the track between 48 and 52. Once between them, she slammed first to the left, knocking 48 into the grass in the middle of track, and quickly swung back, knocking 52 into the wall.
“Wow.”
Mitch shrugged. “Told ya.”
The crowd went wild, everyone on their feet. Even the aunts behind them were screaming, “
Rip those heifers apart, Sissy!”
Brendon leaned close, his mouth next to Mitch’s ear. “One day, when it’s just you and me in a soundproof room with a couple of beers, we’ll discuss how frightened we are right now.”
“You got it, bruh.” To seal their pact, the brothers banged their fists together before looking back.
Of course, what they witnessed then only freaked them out more.
 
 
Sissy screamed. No. Not the hysterical scream like she had a couple of nights ago when she found her parents were using her entire childhood home as some sort of sex club—and that whole thing would have her shuddering in disgust for years—but one of her “
I’m ready to kill everybody!
” screams. She didn’t use them often, but when she did, smart people got out of her way.
Of course, it wasn’t that Paula Jo wasn’t smart. She simply didn’t get out of anyone’s way for any reason. If they hadn’t been mortal enemies, Sissy would probably like the bitch.
She saw the flag and knew they were entering the final lap. That was pretty much the only flag they ever used in these races.
Sissy pressed down on the gas and shot out past the lions to ride alongside Ronnie Lee on her left. Ronnie was ahead and could win this, but the cats were trying their best to take her out because as hard as Lucy might try, she simply couldn’t handle speed the way Ronnie could.
Dee-Ann pulled up alongside on Ronnie’s right. Her car had massive dents on the fender and side panels, but Sissy knew her car looked worse. Of course, she had a worse temper than Dee.
The lions had one more lap to stop Ronnie or lose. They went for broke, pulling out a move Sissy didn’t remember ever seeing them do before—it must have been new.
Karen Jane pulled past Sissy and cut in front of her. Then she hit her brakes. Sissy had seconds to move, hitting her own brakes and turning her wheel; that’s when Paula Jo slammed into her from behind, knocking Sissy off the track and right into the grassy field in the center.
Lucy shoved her way between Ronnie and Dee and took Dee out with a well-placed slam to her left side. Sissy’s cousin spun and hit the wall.
Okay. Sissy had been mad before, but now ...
Sissy tore across the center of the track. In a normal race, completely illegal and sometimes physically impossible, depending on the track. But there were only two rules to this game—you couldn’t deliberately hit a car once the car was out, and you definitely couldn’t purposely hit a driver if they were outside their car. Either infraction got you time in either the Smithtown or Barron County jails.
Sissy hit asphalt, and she sort of fishtailed when her back tires landed. But she’d gotten where she needed to be. She’d timed it so Ronnie Lee was just passing her when she tore onto the track. She cut across the track, pushing Paula Jo and Karen Jane back. Lucy sneaked by, but Ronnie Lee would always be faster than that little girl. Sissy’s big concern was her older sisters.
Gritting her teeth, she swung wild and spun, her backend colliding with Paula Jo’s front. The inertia pushed Paula Jo into the back right of her sister’s car. That spun Karen Jane out and right into Sissy.
The power of that shoved Sissy, and suddenly ... Sissy Mae was airborne.
 
 
When Sissy’s car flipped up and over, Mitch jumped to his feet, his heart ripping a hole in his rib cage. Then her car didn’t stop. It kept going, flipping right back into the grassy field she’d illegally used to make her insane move. He lost count of how many times she went over. But when she finally landed, Ronnie Lee had made the last lap, and the checkered flag flew.

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