1. Earth Pack Rules: Her Alpha Lovers Part One (2 page)

“Look, why the hell would you and muscle-man even think about mating with me? I bet they’re lined up at your door with the preacher in tow.”

“Actually, they’re not. In my pack, there aren’t any females of suitable age who are not already promised or married.” He reached out and stroked her tattoo. “Our pack psychic consulted with Matchmaking Matilda. She said we needed to come here, and that our mate would be a woman with a fiery heart.”

“Uh, yeah. Matilda sounds nutballs.”

“She was—and even more so since she died. But when it comes to mate choosing, she’s never been wrong.”

“Let me get this straight. A crazy dead lady told the Earth Pack alphas to come to Vegas and marry a woman with a fiery heart.”

“Yep.”

“Huh. And you think that’s me?”

“Roxanne!”

The strident female voice had them both turning. A blonde dressed like she was an extra from a Mad Max movie—along with three bigger, broader males who seemed to collectively agree wearing black leather in summertime Vegas was a good idea—hurried toward them.

“Don’t you dare move, you bitch!” screamed the blonde.

“We should probably run,” said Roxanne. She turned and hauled ass. Jack wasn’t about to lose her, even if it meant fending off Blood Pack members. He followed her across the fake beach toward an Exit door that blended into the fake ocean wall.

Shit. What had he gotten himself—and by default, Grant—into with the curvy, tattooed beauty?

GRANT WELLS INSERTED
the key card to the hotel suite. He was hot, sweaty, and wanted a shower. He’d taken his T-shirt off and wore it slung over his shoulder. He’d gotten some interest in the gym from females and, if he were honest, a couple dudes, too. Not one of ’em had a fiery heart. Of any kind. He looked. On clothing. On skin. On iPods. He even tried to take it to a symbolic level with maybe someone acting fiery-hearted (whatever the hell that meant). Nothing. Nada. Zip.

This whole fucking thing was stupid.

The light went green and he heard the door click. He pushed it open.

“Grant!”

At the sound of Jack’s harried voice, he looked over his shoulder. His co-alpha ran down the hallway, followed by a curvy, red-headed babe dressed in a black bikini. Her breasts bounced in the most beautiful way as she jogged behind Jack.

Holy crap.

“Get in, damn it.” Jack nearly rammed him through the door as he and the mystery woman piled in behind him. Jack turned and made sure the door was shut tight and then engaged the other safety locks.

“What’s going on?” asked Grant. He sniffed the air. The female was a werewolf. He could practically taste her panic. Jack’s vibe was no better.

“Marriage?” The red-head grinned at him, all attitude and fire. She was good at hiding her fear. With that delicious body she could probably distract the freakin’ pope.
There.
Above awesome breast number one: A heart tattoo with a fiery sword plunged through it.

“She’s the one?” asked Grant.

“I think so.”

“Suits me.” He strode to the red-head, ready to test their attraction level, but she threw her arms up.

“Don’t make me punch you,” she warned. “I don’t even know if I like you yet.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Grant, grinning. He loved a woman with a mouth on her. One he couldn’t easily boss around. “Let’s keep her.”

“Okay, but we might have to fight the entire Blood Pack.”

Grant’s ardor immediately dimmed. “Shit. You’re a Blood?”

“Alpha’s daughter,” added Jack as he strode by and headed toward the wet bar.

“Your Karen’s kid?”

“Don’t look so surprised,” she said snidely. “I hide all my malformations.”

Grant gave her the slow onceover, and then his eyebrow winged up. “Where?”

“I think I will punch you.”

“Bring it, babe.”

“Let’s save that shit for the honeymoon,” said Jack. Ice clinked into an old-fashioned glass and he poured three fingers of single-malt Scotch. “She’s in trouble.”

Grant winked at her, his fiery-hearted bride, and joined his best friend for some booze. He was more a beer guy, so he rounded the bar and pulled open the mini-fridge. He grabbed a bottle of black lager. “You want something, sweetheart?”

“My name is Roxie. Bourbon. Straight-up.”

Grant chuckled. “Bourbon for the lady.” He made her drink, leaving out the bottle. He had a feeling she’d want more than one. He opened his beer and leaned back, sipping on it while Jack filled him in on Miss Trouble. When he was done, Grant shook his head.

“Damn. I know Karen has a rep for being a bi—er, bad ass,” said Grant. “But would she really throw you to the wolves, Roxie?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s what her dad did when he was alpha. My father won her in the Suitor’s Brawl and nine months later, I arrived.”

“He died right after Roxie was born. He crashed his motorcycle into a canyon wall,” inserted Jack.

Grant nodded. No daddy. No-good mom. Roxie had it tough, so she became tough.

“A couple months later, my grandfather’s fourth mate killed him—and my Mom killed her. She became alpha and mated with Cody, who is the biggest asshat of the Blood Pack.”

“You’re the only child?”

“The only daughter. I have a couple of half-brothers. Crawl is a fucking idiot. Yes, his name is Crawl,” she said, answering Grant’s question before it could leave his lips. “Cody named him. I was a little over a year old when Crawl was born. A year after that, Derek came into the world, and Mom put the kibosh on having more babies. Cody took Crawl under his wing, and ignored me and Derek. Mom didn’t really care if we were around or not. So, me and Derek kinda raised each other.” She paused to finish the bourbon. Grant poured her another, and she nodded her thanks. “Derek was the one who convinced Mom that me going to college was a good idea, and then he joined the Marines. He thought going to war in another country gave him a higher survival rate than living in the Blood Pack.”

“Sounds brutal,” said Grant. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “Thanks, but that’s my past. I’m more worried about my future.”

“Sounds like marrying us is your best way out of the Suitor’s Brawl.” Grant finished his beer and tossed it into the trash can under the counter. “I’m going to take a shower.” He shared a look with Jack. He tried to mentally convey one thought one:
Convince her, dude.

Grant liked Roxie, and he figured that was enough of a foundation to build the alpha triad for the Earth Pack. Jack was more of a thinker, and that was okay. When his friend took to over-thinking things, which was a lot, Grant could step in and get the ball rolling. And when Grant’s first reaction was to barrel into a situation fists flying, which was also a lot, Jack pulled him back. They made a good team—and Roxie would be part of that.

He’d been ready to take the final step for a while. He had faith in the triad, in the Earth Pack, and even in dead Matilda.

All they had to do now was convince Roxie.

Jack found her, so he got the first move. But when it was Grant’s turn … he grinned. He couldn’t wait to see what he and Miss Trouble would do together.

“MAYBE YOU JUST
need convincing.” The rich timbre of Jack’s voice had a sensual quality that made Roxie’s nerves prickle. They both leaned against the wet bar, sipping on their drinks. He put down his glass and plucked hers out of her hand.

The lazy intent glittering in his hazel eyes warned her, but before she could protest, he lowered his head and pressed warm, soft lips against her mouth.

Shocked into stillness, Roxie didn’t move—not even when Jack pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. He tasted of scotch, which wasn’t bad, and his lips did not demand, but coaxed. Her breasts pressed against the hard planes of his chest and her nipples hardened.

Damn, it had been a long time since she’d been kissed. And she couldn’t remember the experience ever being like this. His tongue flicked the corner of her mouth, and a jolt of electricity zapped the pit of her stomach. With that opening salvo, he invaded, his tongue tangling with hers.

Heat coiled her belly and sparked every nerve ending. Arousal liquefied her body, clouded her mind, and dissolved her doubts.

This was what she’d been looking for. Only she hadn’t known it. She’d never really belonged in the Blood Pack. College had been great, but had only filled part of her restless longing to be part of something that mattered.

This experience, this feeling, this need to be fulfilled … well, damn if Jack wasn’t doing a good job of giving it to her.

He stopped kissing her, his breathing erratic as he looked at her and grinned. She hung onto Jack’s shoulders, trying to calm her galloping heart rate. Feeling shaky, Roxie let go of him and touched her mouth, and felt the swelling of her throbbing lips.

God, he was so cute. No, cute wasn’t the right word. He was freaking gorgeous. And Grant? He was a looker, too. Bigger, more muscled, and probably a beast in the sack.

Both of these alphas were panty-melters.

Jack’s face was all sharp angles, softened only by the fullness of his mouth and the warmth sparkling in his hazel eyes. His longish blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail. She wondered what it looked like down … what it might feel like in her hands. Muscled. God, he was muscled. The fit of his swim trunks would be declared illegal in some states.

“Thanks for saving me,” she finally managed to say. “Twice.”

He clasped her wrists and tugged her forward. “Let me scent you.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Scenting is only intent—it’s not true mating. You know that. It’ll give you some protection.” He brushed back her hair. “Would it be so bad to become ours? The Earth Pack is great. We have a beautiful farming community in Oregon. No brawls. No jostling for position within the pack. It’s a different life. A good one.”

It sounded wonderful. Really, her reluctance made no sense, other than feeling like she didn’t have any control over her life anymore. Maybe being in college had given her that illusion. Returning home to her distant mother and raging asshole step-father, not to mention her cruel and stupid brother, had been a bucket of cold water tossed right onto her goddamned ambitions. Somehow, she had convinced herself that with a sociology degree in hand, she could change the Blood Pack’s brutal structure. In the end, though, it boiled down to a little girl wanting her mother to love her. Yeah. Roxie wanted her mother to be different.

Mom would never change.

But Roxie could. She had.

“Roxie?”

She looked at Jack, at his longing, his concern, his gentleness. He would bring her pleasure, she knew it. And Grant—he wasn’t a peaceful man. But he was strong. And she needed strength as much as she needed gentleness.

“Maybe … just scenting.”

He smiled, and his hazel eyes dark with desire. Her heart trilled. Was that the beat of fear? Or of longing? Both, she decided.

Jack dropped to his knees and grasped her hips. He pressed his mouth to the vee of her thighs. Roxie almost fell over.
Oh. My. God.
His accuracy was uncanny. Shock and pleasure reverberated in her core as she tried to form an objection.

The wet warmth of his lips penetrated the thin material. His breath fluttered through the barriers. She grabbed his shoulders and steadied herself. Was this happening? Really?

He looked up at her.

“Last chance,” he said, his voice hoarse with need. “Do you want me to stop?”

JACK WAITED AN
eternity
for Roxie’s answer, but she finally said, “No.”

Relief flooded him, followed by white-hot lust. Jack eased the bikini bottom down her thighs, exposing her smooth, well-trimmed pussy. “That’s a beautiful sight.”

The spice of her sex was ambrosia. He leaned forward and kissed the spot just above her crease. The mere pressing of his lips against her warm skin sent sparks of hot desire shooting through him. Dragging his tongue down the slender line, he feasted on her plump, slick flesh.

He dipped inside, tasting her feminine essence. Then he skimmed along her slick folds until he reached her clitoris. He flicked the swollen nub.

She moaned.

He slid two fingers inside her wet heat and curled them upward.

“Oh, God,” she cried. “What … is … that?”

Bingo.
Houston, I’ve found the G-spot.
He stroked that bump eagerly. He looked up and noted with satisfaction that her eyes were closed and her face was flushed.

He captured her clit between his lips and sucked on the sweet little nub. He gladly accepted the assault of her fingers digging into his skull as he both pleasured and scented her. He re-settled his hands onto her ass and gorged on the nirvana that was Roxie. He could’ve stayed there forever, licking her and tasting her, but he needed to wait for Grant before he brought her to orgasm.

Both of their scents needed to be on her so that anyone werewolf within sniffing distance would know Roxie belonged to them both, and therefore belonged to the Earth Pack. It was the strongest protection they could give her—until she mated fully with them both.