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 seehim? 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 might 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.