Unfortunately, that was the last thing she really remembered.

No, she wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon if she could help it. And to prove it, she buried her face deeper into the pillow. It felt good to do that, so she did it again. In some bizarre way, the action helped her headache—she’d never call it a hangover out loud—so she did it again. Then she rubbed her head against the pillow.

It was that scent. She wanted that scent on her. A very shifter thing to do and one she’d never really be able to explain to a full-human without getting that telltale “ewww” response.

As her brain began to slowly process whose smell this could possibly be, she felt the bed dip and a heavy weight rest against her side.

“Baby?” a deliciously low voice said. “You awake? I need you, baby.”

Sissy’s eyes snapped open, but she immediately closed them again when bright sunlight brutally seared her brain right inside her skull.

“Mitchell?”

“Yeah,” he purred, nuzzling her chin, her ear. “You up for more of me, baby? ’Cause we are so not done.”

Not caring how much the light hurt, Sissy slammed her hands against Mitch’s chest and pushed him off while scrambling back until her shoulders hit the headboard. Using both hands, she held the sheet under her chin.

“What the hell is going on?”

“What’s wrong, baby?”

She stared at him in horror. “Mitchell Shaw, tell me you didn’t!”

“Didn’t what?” He crawled across the bed toward her. “Didn’t turn you inside out and work you like you’ve never been worked before? Well, if you’re asking me to be honest, I guess I’d have to say—”

“Don’t.” One hand released the sheet she had such a grip on to halt his words. “Not another word.”

“Don’t be that way, baby.”

“And stop calling me that!”

He took hold of the sheet and began to pull it away from her. “Don’t be shy, baby. We have no secrets now.”

This wasn’t happening! This wasn’t happening! She was fully dressed!

Wait. She was fully dressed.

Sissy stared down at the clean white T-shirt and white sweatpants. She clearly smelled Ronnie’s scent. These were Ronnie’s clothes. Had to be. Sissy never wore white. She had a tendency to get food on clothes within seconds. And something told her it was Ronnie who’d put the damn things on Sissy in the first place.

“You are so hot, baby.”

Slowly, she looked up at Mitch, and forcing herself to look past her hangover, she could see he was fighting hard not to laugh out loud.

“You. Big. Haired. Bastard!”

Sissy launched herself onto Mitch, knocking him off the bed and onto the floor. She punched and slapped at his face, and he held off her blows with those sidesof ham he called arms. And it didn’t help that he was hysterically laughing the whole time.

“I hate you, Mitchell Shaw! I hate you!”

“You love me, sweet cheeks! Admit it!”

“One day,” she told him between blows, “you’re gonna meet me in hell! And I’m gonna kick your big, white ass!”

“Last night you told me it was the best ass!”

“Shut up!”

He grabbed her wrists and turned, putting her on her back with him between her legs. “Are you going to keep fighting me, or you going to admit I’m your lord and savior?”

“Blasphemer!”

“That’s what the priests all said.”

“I should tell my daddy to kick your ass.”

“He’s on vacation. With your mother. Remember?”

And like that…all the fight went out of her. “She’s gone? Really and truly?”

“Really and truly.” He leaned in and kissed her nose. “Now are you going to keep fighting me, or are we going to get some breakfast?”

“Breakfast, you evil bastard. But this will not be forgotten.”

Grinning, Mitch released her wrists and easily got to his feet. He reached down and grabbed Sissy’s hand, pulling her up.

“You sure you feel okay?” He still held her hand. “I was just messing with your head.”

“It was mean.” And she shrugged. “Of course, when I think about it, I have to appreciate the evil of it.”

He moved closer. “So you’re not mad at me?”

“I should be—” Sissy looked up into Mitch’s handsome face, and her words died in her throat when she saw something there she didn’t see very often—maybe because she’d never really looked before. She saw desire. Pure, clear. It was there on his face and the way he stared at her lips.

She swallowed and was about to lick her suddenly dry lips, but quickly realized that would probably be a bad idea.

He let out a sigh. “We have to go, don’t we?”

“Yeah. We do.” She did, right? Somewhere in the universe, it would be considered the right thing to do. Only she couldn’t remember why it would be the right thing to do.

“You’re right. I know you’re right.” He shook his head the tiniest bit. “It’s a real damn shame, though, huh?”

“Maybe. For all I know you’re a dud in bed.”

“Now see, that was just cruel…and challenging.”

Laughing, Sissy playfully swiped at Mitch’s head. He ducked it, his body moving to the side a bit to avoid her swinging arm and then…then everything went weird. She heard small pop sounds, and Mitch pitched forward, slamming into her and dropping them both to the floor.