She gripped the headboard, pushing back as he fucked her, demanding he give her more. The woman was a demon in bed. To be blunt, she fucked like a man. She took what she wanted, and if you could keep up, great. If you couldn’t, she’d leave your ass behind in a New York minute.

Fortunately for Mitch, he could easily keep up with her. He hadn’t realized until this moment that he’d been looking for a lover like Sissy for years. Someone who could match him every step of the way.

After practice, they’d headed out to dinner with Ronnie and Bren. It had been surprisingly fun, he and Bren getting along better than they ever had. But every once in a while, Mitch would catch Sissy looking at him, and he knew she was thinking the same thing he was…

When I get your ass home…

They didn’t even make it out of the car before they started going at each other. Once they did get out of the car and into the house, they didn’t make it past the family room—that poor family room. It had seen much fucking over the last couple of days. This time, Mitch slammed Sissy to the floor and took her there. He couldn’t help himself. She was such a vicious little cock tease—he loved it.

That was four hours ago, and except for brief breaks between bouts, neither seemed ready to head off to sleep for the night.

Mitch leaned over Sissy, their bodies slick with sweat, and grabbed her hair. He pulled her head to the side and kissed her neck, her shoulder. Then he pulled her head straight back and kissed her mouth, their tongues sparring and teasing.

He’d never met a woman who liked as rough a ride as Sissy did. At least not one who didn’t need a lot of leather and latex involved. Mitch had never had the patience for knots and complicated scenarios involving chains. He wasn’t averse to pulling out his handcuffs, but he was a simple Philly boy. And what he liked was hard, sweaty naked fucking.

Sissy did, too. But she didn’t just receive. His vicious She-wolf knew how to take. Even now, she pulled back her right hand and gripped Mitch by the hair. She yanked hard and demanded, “Make me come.”

Mitch grinned and placing his hand flat against her back, pushed her down. She rested her cheek against the pillow and gripped the edge of the mattress with both hands. Sitting up straight, Mitch pounded into her. When he knew she wasn’t expecting anything but a helping hand between her thighs, he pulled his arm back and slapped her hard on the ass.

“Ow! You bas—”

He slapped her ass again.

“Stop doing that!”

And again.

That’s when Sissy screamed into the pillow, coming hard, her shaking body slamming back into his.

“Oh, God; oh God; oh God; oh, God.” Another wave hit her, and her fangs tore into her pillow, ripping it open.

Mitch couldn’t take anymore. He let go, his head thrownback as he came, the power of it sapping any strength he had left.

With a purr, he landed against Sissy’s back, and she dropped to the mattress. A well-aimed elbow to his ribs forced Mitch onto his back, and Sissy turned over, curling up against his side. He slipped his arm under her shoulder and pulled her closer, his fingers stroking her neck.

He thought one of them would say something, but neither did.

Maybe for once there was nothing to say.

“Are you the hard-core Led Zeppelin fan?”

Sissy laughed as she placed the big bowl of tossed pasta on the table. “That’s Daddy. He’s been a fan forever, to hear him tell it.”

Naked, Mitch dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. Man, she’d have a lot of cleaning to do before her parents got back.

“He’s got vinyl, tapes, and CDs. The vinyls are probably worth something, too.”

“He’d never sell ’em. He’s too loyal to Jimmy Page.” Sissy placed a bowl in front of Mitch and using tongs, loaded it up with as much pasta as she could. “I grew up listening to Zeppelin.”

“Do you hate it now?”

“Surprisingly, no.” Although she was grateful that Mitch had put some Eric Clapton in the CD player. “But my momma has a thing about Johnny Cash, and you couldn’t make me listen to him with a gun to my head.”

Mitch stared into the bowl. “What did you mix in here?”

“Why do we keep going through this? You know you love everything I make.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Eat it, and stop acting like a five-year-old.”

“Fine. But if I don’t like it, I’m spitting it out and making dramatic gagging sounds.”

Sissy filled her bowl halfway and wasn’t remotely surprised when she heard Mitch groan.

“That is so good.”

“Told you. I don’t know why you question me.”

“Am I tasting zebra?”

“What I had left.”

“By the way, Brendon brought cash with him, so we’re cool for money.”

Sissy stared at him for a moment. “Sure he has enough to feed you?”

“Look, woman, I’m a growing, virile young man. I need my food.”

“I still say you should be checked for a tapeworm. Or in your case, a tape-snake.”

In less than fifteen minutes, Mitch had finished off his bowl of pasta and what was left in the serving bowl, and now he was eyeing what she hadn’t eaten yet.

“Leave me alone.”

“Come on. It’ll give me extra energy for the rest of the night.”

“From what I’ve been able to tell, the last thing you need is extra energy.”