The Pack Rules Boxed Set: The Complete Series of Wolf, Bear, and Dragon Shifter Romances

by Michele Bardsley

  She got on her hands and knees, parting her legs and lifting her ass in complete compliance to the alpha.

  “Oh, so good,” he said. “So beautiful.”

  His harsh breathing echoed hers as Grant took position behind her.

  His hands coasted up her thighs and over her buttocks. Excitement raced up her spine.

  The ridge of his hard cock pressed against her ass. She bit her lower lip as he gripped her hips and slid his shaft between her thighs. Slowly, too damned slowly, he pierced her slick folds, nudging her entrance.

  She moaned as he fitted the head of his cock inside her. But he didn’t move. She wiggled back, but he kept her that teasing position, which offered both erotic anticipation and aching frustration.

  “What do you want, Roxie?”

  “You.”

  She quivered. Her fingernails curled into covers. Bastard. Sweat beaded between her breasts, and her entire being ached to feel him take her.

  Grant pushed a little further inside her and she whimpered. Her heart pounded and her body writhed in fervid heat. She moaned again, trying to work his cock further inside her.

  He smacked her ass.

  Yes. “Do it again,” she begged.

  He spanked her again, harder, and then he took her fully—a swiftly fervent penetration that sucked all the breath out of her lungs.

  Frantically, she moved her hips to meet Grant’s every rough plunge.

  He clutched her, fingers digging as he pound into her, and she took it, feeling the sweet rhythm stretch toward ultimate pleasure.

  He gave her another open palm smack.

  “Oh!” The stinging pain reverberated straight toward those tightening strings of orgasm. So close. “Do it again!” she demanded.

  Grant obliged.

  The rough slap sent her straight over the edge. She screamed as pleasure cascaded through her, and those sounds of her ecstasy were met with the fierce growls of her werewolf lover.

  He embedded himself, a guttural roar accompanying the jettison of his seed deep within her.

  Roxie sank into the covers, gulping in air. Her ass throbbed, but she felt really, really good.

  Grant fell beside her, his expression pure satisfaction. He traced her spine with one fingertip. “I can’t wait to do that with you again.”

  “You and Jack,” said Roxie.

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you two shared a woman before?”

  Grant nodded. “Sure. It’s not like we didn’t try dating or finding our mate before now. But there’s no one who fit with us. Not like you. You’re our fiery-hearted woman.”

  She curled onto her side and cupped his face. “This is crazy.”

  “So what?” He kissed the palm of her hand and then grasped her fingers. “How about a shower?”

  “Is that offer open to anyone?” The question came from the door. Jack stood there, grinning like the wolf he was. “Looks like things went well.”

  “Definitely,” said Grant.

  “Good.” Jack’s gaze traced Roxie’s naked body. “Who’s up for getting wet?”

  JACK JOINED GRANT and Roxie under the hot spray of jetted water. Roxie took two small soaps and rubbed them together under the water. As soon as suds appeared, she began soaping Jack and Grant’s chests.

  Jack had missed Roxie, and he’d hoped things had gone well between her Grant. Not that he’d been worried. After all, Matilda had nailed again—even beyond the grave. Given his and Grant’s twin attraction to Roxie, and her acceptance of them and their co-alpha rule of the Earth Pack, everything was falling into place.

  Roxie’s hands slipped down, down, down, until the little soaps were rubbing each man’s engorged cock. While she continued stroking Grant, she cupped Jack’s balls and squeezed lightly.

  His cock was already hard under her cleansing technique.

  “Time to rinse.” He turned toward the pulsating water and scrubbed off the soap. While he backed her against the wall and pushed his cock into the wet vee of her thighs, Grant washed the soap of his body. Then he cupped Roxie from behind, pressing against the wet slope of generous buttocks.

  She cupped Jack’s face in her palms and kissed him. He accepted the tenderness of her gesture.

  Then he released her mouth to trail kissed down her neck. He saw that Grant’s fingers were busy at the juncture of her thighs, so he leaned down and suckled Roxie’s deliciously big nipples. The water beat down on them and wet bodies slipped against each other, wet skin creating the best kind of friction.

  “What the hell is that?” asked Grant.

  Roxie protested as the alpha stopped stroking her, and cocked an ear toward the open bathroom door.

  Shit. Now, Jack heard it, too.

  Someone was pounding on the hotel suite door. Between the rush of water and their mutual moans of pleasure, it should’ve been difficult to hear anything else.

  “Damn werewolf super hearing,” groused Roxie. “It would be too much to believe that was room service.”

  “Roxanna Royce Calabrese! You open this door!”

  Jack and Grant both looked at Roxie. Her face had gone white. “Shit. It’s my mother.”

  “Your middle name is Royce?” asked Grant.

  “After my grandfather. Which is so fucking important right now.” Roxie exited the shower and grabbed one of the fluffy hotel robes.

  Jack and Grant followed. Jack grabbed a robe and put it on. Grant strode right into the living room, barely catching Roxie before she opened the door.

  “Hang on there, babe. We don’t know the situation yet.” He pulled Roxie to the side of the door, and then nodded at Jack. Jack rounded the bar and grabbed the .9mm loaded with silver bullets they kept right next to the Laphroaig.

  The Earth Pack didn’t advocate violence. But they weren’t pussies, either. Jack couldn’t help but wonder how the hell the woman had gotten onto the floor. Being an alpha gave her privileges, of course. But still…

  “What do you want?” yelled Grant. “We’re a little busy.”

  “Me, too, assholes. Let me in.”

  “Who’s with you?”

  “No one,” Karen shouted. “I’m fucking alone, okay? Roxie!”

  Grant looked out the peephole. He glanced over his shoulder at Jack, who nodded, clicked off the safety, and aimed the gun at the door.

  “Your call, Roxie,” said Grant.

  “Let her in.” Her voice shook.

  Grant opened the door. He wasn’t expecting the Blood Pack alpha to stumble in and fall on her face.

  Roxie and Grant crouched next to the woman, rolling her over. The black leather jacket, a stupid piece of clothing to wear in Vegas heat, fell open revealing a T-shirt as shredded as the skin beneath it. The wounds were massive, bloody, and not healing. It was a testament to the werewolf’s strength that she’d made it here still breathing.

  “Mom.”

  Karen’s eyes fluttered open. Hers was a face that roadmapped abuse, even now sporting a broken nose and two black eyes. She struggled to inhale, but Karen’s expression held nothing but vengeance and loathing. “Rick’s dead. Your fucking brother and his whore decided to take me out.”

  “Crawl did this?” asked Roxie.

  “Him, and Sara. Never liked her.” Karen coughed and blood leaked from her mouth.

  “We’ll get you help,” said Grant.

  “I’ve already called the healer,” called Jack. His cell phone was open on the bar, but he still aimed the gun at the dying alpha.

  “Silver’s in my blood,” said Karen. “Too much of it. There’s no saving me. Don’t care. My Cody’s gone. I’m going, too.” She grabbed her daughter’s robe and yanked the girl forward. Her gaze zeroed in on Roxie. “You better fucking kill your brother, Roxie. If you don’t, he sure as shit is gonna kill you.”

  7

  KAREN COUGHED AGAIN. Blood dribbled down her chin. She gripped Roxie’s robe tighter. “Promise me you’ll take Crawl out.”

  “Mom—”

 
“Christ, Roxie. You’re such a goddamned disappointment.” Those were the last words the Blood Pack alpha spoke to her daughter. Her fingers slid off the terrycloth. She exhaled one last breath, and her eyes went wide and sightless.

  Roxie stood, fists clenched. She eyed her mother’s corpse and started to sway. Grant shot to his feet and grabbed her.

  “I’m all right,” she said, her voice shaky.

  “Bullshit.”

  Jack put down the gun and joined Grant as he led Roxie to the sofa. For a moment, they sat there, both men sharing worried looks while Roxie tried to deal with the fact that her mother had died right in front of her.

  She felt numb. She thought she’d cut the emotional attachments to her mother. Years ago, she’d let go of any feelings born of childish wishes to be loved by the sociopathic woman. There was, however, a hollow feeling in her chest, shadowed by relief. Karen was gone, and no one would miss her.

  “She and Cody had a crypt. I’ll have to make arrangements.”

  “There’s no way in hell you’re going to the Blood Pack compound,” said Grant.

  Jack rubbed her back. “How sure are you that Crawl will come after you?”

  “A hundred percent. Mom wouldn’t have tried to get to me if he wasn’t going to go balls out. If she found me, he will, too.” Roxie sighed. “She didn’t want to save me, not really. She just wanted to make sure that Crawl and Sara would get theirs.”

  She punched the couch. “He’s so stupid. I don’t want to be the alpha! What am I going to do?” She was scared. Really scared. Roxie knew how to hold her own in most circumstances. Surviving in the Blood Pack meant learning how, when, and where to kick ass. But Crawl … Crawl was a psychopath. He would kill her and not feel an ounce of remorse.

  “We’ll get your mother’s body taken care of,” soothed Grant. “I’m sure we can find somewhere to keep her until she can be properly interred.”

  “I’ll call Delta. She has contacts everywhere, even the morgue.” Jack stroked Roxie’s silky red hair. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “No offense, but you’ve never met Crawl.” Roxie shuddered.

  Grant put his hand on Roxie’s knee. “There’s only one way to protect you.”

  Roxie shook her head. “If you take me to Oregon, you’re risking pack war. Crawl doesn’t have to worry about Derek, but me—I have a direct lineage. I’m the oldest. I can claim the alpha position on those merits alone.”

  “He won’t need to go after you if you’re the alpha of another pack,” said Grant. “If you’re our wife, then we’ll rule the Earth Pack as the sacred triad.”

  Roxie blinked up at him. “You still want me? After all of this crap?”

  “You’re the fiery-hearted woman,” said Jack.

  “Oh, c’mon. You believe in destiny?” she asked.

  “You belong with us, Roxie,” added Grant. “And we belong to you.”

  Envisioning a life with the two alphas on a quiet, peaceful farm seemed like freaking nirvana. She wanted them. Hell, if she didn’t have to worry about her asshole brother wreaking havoc then she’d become Jack and Grant’s bride in a heartbeat. Should she become their wife and embroil them in her family drama? It was a risky move. Grant and Jack could hold their own—but Crawl was a whole different animal. He fought dirty. And he had no conscience.

  Jack kissed her effectively putting an end to Roxie’s riotous thoughts, and then Grant brushed his lips over hers. Her heart twisted. These men. These beautiful, kind, strong men. Her men.

  “Roxie?” Jack’s gaze was on her. She turned and saw Grant’s eyes. They had same question.

  “Yes,” she said. She swallowed the knot in her throat and pressed a hand against the nervous fluttered in her stomach. “I’m yours.”

  This declaration earned more kisses from both men. Their easy affection steadied her, made her feel as though she could handle anything. Survive anything.

  They rose from the couch. Jack called whoever this Delta person was, and Grant grabbed the sheets from his bed. When he returned, she helped him. She couldn’t bring herself to touch her mother’s corpse. Instead, with utmost respect, Jack lifted Karen into his arms and gently laid the bloodied woman onto her makeshift shroud. Together, they wrapped her mom up tight and, as she tucked the final corner underneath her mother’s body, Roxie felt tears well.

  “She killed that part of me—the part that could love her, forgive her.” Roxie wiped away the evidence of her grief. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

  “She was your mother,” offered Grant tenderly. “You’re entitled.”

  “Delta’s on the way,” said Jack.

  Roxie looked around. Blood soaked the carpet and her robe. “C’mon, sweetheart,” said Jack. “Let’s get you into the bath.”

  Jack ushered her into his bathroom and ran her a hot bath. Silently, Roxie handed him her bloodstained robe, and then stepped into the jet tub, sinking into the steaming, burbling water.

  “You’ll be all right, sweetheart,” reassured Jack.

  Roxie offered him a tired smile and closed her eyes.

  “WHO’S DEAD?” ASKED Delta as she sailed into the room followed by several people holding various bags, implements, and electronics.

  “The Blood Pack alpha,” said Jack.

  “Shit. Did you kill her?”

  “Her son did. Crawl.”

  Delta’s dark eyebrow winged upward. “Did he kill her in this room?”

  “No. She came here and died.”

  Delta assessed the body wrapped in hotel room sheets. “That makes things slightly easier. My people will keep the body on ice until you’re ready to retrieve it. We’ll need to clean the room. Who else knows about this?”

  “Just her daughter, Roxie.”

  “And where’s Roxie?”

  “Taking a bath.”

  “Ah.” Delta canvased the room. “Any bloody clothing?”

  “Only what Karen was wearing,” said Grant.

  “And this,” added Jack, holding up the bloodied terrycloth robe.

  “Tobias,” called Delta.

  A young man strode toward them, snapped open a plastic bag, and held it under the robe. Jack dropped it inside. Tobias sealed the bag and took it out into the hallway.

  “We’ll need the room for the next couple of hours. We’ll go over everything with a fine-toothed comb. No one will know what happened here.” Delta’s painted red lips curved into feral smile. “Silence is not cheap, my dears.”

  “Whatever it takes,” said Grant. “You know we’re good for it.”

  “Of course, I do. Otherwise, I would not be standing here.” Delta whirled and clapped her hands. “I expect perfection in ninety minutes, people. Let’s go!”

  THE GREAT THING about Las Vegas was the availability of everything twenty-four hours a day. Wedding chapels. Hotels. Grocery stores.

  After Delta had finished her cleanup and whisked away the body of the Blood Pack alpha, Jack, Grant, and Roxie vacated the room.

  Actually, they vacated the Drift Resort and the Las Vegas Strip.

  Delta recommended a boutique hotel less than a mile from Fremont Street, which she stated had “security tighter than a nun’s vagina.” The tiny hotel belonged to Virginia Pearson, whose grown sons owned and operated Pearson Security. The well-respected agency run by the three brothers had a stellar reputation for protection services. The Pearsons were also bear shifters, which made them ideal bodyguards.

  The downtown area of Las Vegas was like the Strip’s aging sister—cheap pearls, stale candies, and toothless smiles. Desperation clung to the older hotels especially those framed by the Fremont Street Experience, a canopy of sound and noise that gurgled like a group of college cheerleaders on acid.

  Virginia made arrangements for a local shifter shaman to meet Jack, Grant, and Roxie in their room.

  “WE’LL DO A PROPER wedding celebration when we get home,” promised Jack. He’d dressed first—a blue striped suit with a silver tie and Italian leather
shoes. Handsome didn’t begin to cover it—he had an angular face, full lips, hazel eyes, and rocking body. Jack’s blonde hair brushed his broad shoulders, shining like spun gold.

  Then there was Grant with his short, dark hair, GQ looks, and the tight, square body of a boxer. He wore black, eschewing a tie for a white shirt with an unbuttoned collar, and he wore black loafers. Roxie had Delta to thank for the ivory knee-length dress and nude kitten heels. In fact, Delta had provided all the wedding clothing with the same scary efficiency she’d sterilized their hotel room and whisked away a dead werewolf.

  Jack, Roxie, and Grant stood in the living room of the luxury suite, all three of them feeling uncomfortable. The ties between Roxie and the alphas, however tenuous, seemed stretched as taunt as wires about to snap.

  “What constitutes a proper Earth Pack wedding celebration?” asked Roxie. Her voice shook, and she cleared her throat.

  “Three-day party,” said Grant. “The whole community gets together. Food. Singing. Dancing. It’s amazing.”

  Roxie offered a slight smile. “I can’t wait.”

  “We know you’re worried,” said Jack. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

  “I know you both are doing your best for me—and I appreciate it.” Roxie was wound up tight, and she knew it. It wasn’t that she regretted her decision to marry Jack and Grant. That was right, and good, and perfect. All the same, she felt foreboding in the pit of her belly, a weight so heavy her knees nearly buckled under its strain.

  She wanted to believe everything would be okay.

  Jack and Grant converged on her, and she held onto the men tightly. By marrying the Earth Pack alphas, she was officially dragging them into Blood Pack business. Crawl was unpredictable. He could let her walk away, or he could come after her—them—and start a pack war just because it was Tuesday.

  “Hey.” Grant tipped her chin up. “We’ll get through this. Once we’re mated, your brother will back off. You won’t be a threat to his status.”

  “The Blood Pack isn’t going to be better off with him as alpha. Not everyone in the pack likes the way things are. Some members actually try to live real lives—do things that matter, have families. But my mother made it clear that Blood Pack was forever. If she thought any member was disrespecting her or making the Blood Pack look bad, she would have them beaten—sometimes outright killed. And her definition of disrespect varied by the hour.” Roxie dropped her head. “I was born with the DNA of two sociopathic assholes.”