Claimed by the Pack_A Wolf-Shifter Menage Romance

by Krista Wolf

  As for me… I’d been sated numerous times.

  “Why not?” I shrugged. “After all, you’ve claimed me, haven’t you?”

  Broderick slipped a sleepy arm around my waist, pulling me tighter against him. His cock was still sticky and warm pressed up against my naked ass.

  “We sure have.”

  I took a deep breath. Let it out slowly.

  “And if I’m claimed,” I went on, half-teasingly, “aren’t there certain unbreakable bonds formed between the three of us?”

  “Yes,” said Broderick. “Bonds that grow stronger every day.”

  I nodded. “It also occurs to me,” I said, “you guys still don’t have a place to live.” I poked Damien. “Unless you call that rat-trap apartment you brought me back to an actual home.”

  “The shitty one?” Damien joked. “With milk all over the floor?”

  “That’s the one.”

  A pair of lips touched mine, and I closed my eyes and kissed. I had two men. Two lovers. Two people I very much cared about, and was in deeply in love with. I’d go anywhere they wanted, really. Anywhere at all.

  “Maybe it would be good to just travel for a while,” Broderick said, kissing my shoulder. “Like you said.”

  Damien kissed me harder, and with greater longing. Traveling was right up his alley. Especially if we picked a country that bordered the sea.

  “You could always come back and see America,” I called over my shoulder.

  Damien’s eyes lit up. “And California!” he smiled.

  “Sure… or anywhere, really.”

  I reached out and grabbed them by their manhoods, closing one hand gently around each.

  “Wouldn’t matter to me,” I sighed. “As long as you’ll come with me.”

  They snuggled in.

  “To protect me.”

  Damien’s eyes bored into mine. His gaze was deep, loving, perfect. Broderick’s arms, like two steel cables wrapped around me.

  “Guard me.”

  I felt the squeeze grow tighter. I was lost… lost between them.

  “Love me.”

  The kisses came from both sides now, tender and slow. Long, deep, lingering kisses with fire and passion and heat.

  “The way I love you too,” I breathed, as I felt them stiffen beneath my touch.

  I was rolled onto my back. My legs spread wide, knocked apart by one big knee.

  “We’ll always protect and guard you,” said Broderick, climbing between my thighs. “No matter what.”

  He pushed forward, entering me easily in one long, beautiful stroke. Damien held me as he did it, his blue eyes shining down.

  “I love you both,” I said, reaching to pull them close.

  If they said anything back to me I didn’t hear it, and that was okay.

  I was too busy falling into paradise.

  Ready for More Menage?

  First of all, thanks for taking a chance on Claimed by the Pack. Here’s hoping it knocked your socks off!

  If you liked the story, I’d be extremely grateful if you could leave a review on Amazon. Even a sentence or two makes a big difference to an author, as well as helping other readers to discover the book. Also, be sure to check out books 1 and 2 of the series:

  Ghosts of Averoigne

  Beyond the Gates of Evermoore

  And for more EXTRA-steamy menage? Check out Shared. Below you’ll find a preview of the amazing cover, plus the first few chapters so you can check it out for yourself.

  Thanks and enjoy!

  Krista

  One

  CLAUDIA

  “Shit!”

  I stared up in horror as the can of paint fell. It slipped from the ladder in slow motion, rotating end over end as a big swath of the pale blue color — the one I’d taken more than an hour to pick out — licked forth like a giant tongue.

  “SHIT!”

  I jumped back, twisting to get out of the way. The can hit the floor in an explosion of blue, just as I realized my right foot felt… well, wet.

  I’d just stepped in the roller tray for the white paint too.

  “Shit shit shit shit shit!”

  The burst of sudden laughter from behind me was the last thing I expected to hear. It caused me to whirl, whipping another thin line from the overloaded brush in my hand. Paint splattered over two more walls… which of course just happened to be the ones I’d already painted.

  I opened my mouth…

  “Shit?” a deep but cheerful voice suggested. There was more laughter, this time accompanied by a bright smile. “Sorry. That’s just a lot of shit.”

  The stranger standing in my doorway was as tall as he was broad. His big shoulders ended where his sleeves did, revealing two very tan and well-developed arms that were holding a large box.

  He glanced down curiously. “Why are you barefoot?’

  I’d taken my shoes off to spare them the mess. Now I had paint all over my foot, my shorts, my shirt… my arms and legs… everywhere but the wall where it needed to be, apparently.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  He bent at the knees, setting the box on the floor without breaking his smile. “I’m Brandon,” he said, reaching out one hand. When I didn’t shake it right away, he lowered it to his side. “I’m here for my room.”

  I was totally dumbfounded. “Your room?”

  “Yes.”

  I couldn’t help but snicker, even as I stepped out of the paint tray. “Well I think you’ve got the wrong house, Brandon.”

  “You sure?”

  “Look around. The real question is are you sure?”

  Brandon’s eyes moved slowly around the interior of the old Victorian house. He reached behind him and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. It was a very nice pocket, attached to a very nice ass. That part I tried not to notice, but it was a little difficult.

  “430 Blydenburg,” he read. “That’s here, right?”

  “Maybe.”

  “The old Delta Delta Tau house?”

  “Yeahhh…” I admitted slowly. “A long time ago maybe.” My eyes narrowed. “And?”

  “Well that’s it then,” he said, holding out the piece of paper. “This is the place. I’ve been assigned here for the rest of the semester.”

  I sighed and swiped the paper from his hand. Our fingers touched, and I left him unapologetically with a fresh line of blue paint.

  “What is this?” I said, reading the document.

  “Dean’s orders,” Brandon shrugged. “Our chapter got closed down over the break, and we were told to come here.”

  Chapter. Closed down…

  Mentally I snapped my fingers. Of course!

  “Ah,” I said. “You’re from Omega Alpha.”

  “Yup.”

  “Shut down for alcohol hazing. Disbanded. Thrown off campus.”

  “Yes, yes, and yes,” Brandon said. “But also, no. We got railroaded. We didn’t haze anyone.”

  I reached for the towel I was using as a paint rag. “That’s not what I read.”

  “That kid you read about got drunk at some other party,” he said defensively. “He passed out on our lawn and we called him an ambulance.”

  “That kid was a freshman, with more alcohol in his system than the town drunk tank. He nearly died.”

  “Again,” Brandon reiterated. “Not us.”

  I sighed as I wiped my hands clean. I sure wasn’t there to argue with him. I wasn’t there to babysit him either.

  “Well Brandon, it seems somebody’s made a mistake. You can’t live here because the house isn’t ready. Not even close.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m still fixing it up, and the University gave me another six months to finish the job.”

  He looked confused as I handed the paper back to him. “You? A girl?”

  “Yeah,” I laughed. “Me. A girl.” I used a single finger to tap my tits, playfully. “See?”

  He blushed and nodded. Folded the paper back into his pocket.r />
  “Go tell them you need another place. In fact, tell them they—”

  I stopped dead as another two guys walked up behind him. Two boys, really. College students, like Brandon. Maybe twenty, or twenty one.

  “Hi,” one of them said. He was equally as tall, with soft blonde hair that framed a very handsome face. “I’m Colin, and this asshole next to me is Hunter.” Hunter elbowed him so hard he almost dropped his box. “We’re here for our rooms.”

  My eyes found Brandon’s again and he gave me an apologetic shrug.

  “Well shit,” I said.

  Two

  CLAUDIA

  The guys stared at me for a long while, like they were witnessing the creation of some paint-splattered goddess. It was Colin who eventually put down his own boxes to help clean up the mess.

  “Thanks,” I said, tossing him a clean rag.

  “No problem.”

  I explained to them how I’d been tasked with fixing up the place, and how I’d only just begun. I left out the money part. As an adjunct professor my salary wasn’t much, so I took whatever extra hours I could. Not only was this some good supplemental income, it also kept me out of my own house for as long as I wanted.

  Out of the house and away from Garrett.

  “So you’re the one fixing up the old DDT house, huh?”

  Hunter circled the foyer, being careful not to track through any of the spilled paint. There was a definite swagger in his step. His walk was cocky, if not outright arrogant.

  “Cleaning and painting more than fixing it,” I admitted. “But yeah, that’s me.”

  I didn’t know much about repairs, but I could certainly paint and decorate. And thanks to my neurotic grandmother, I could clean circles around just about anybody.

  “And you just started, right?”

  “Yup.”

  “Good. Then you don’t mind me saying it looks like shit.”

  His attitude amused more than offended me. In the six years I’d been teaching, I’d learned to grow a thicker skin.

  “It looks like shit,” I replied, “because it’s been pretty much abandoned since the 1980’s. All the more reason you guys can’t live here.”

  Brandon and Colin exchanged concerned looks. Hunter only folded his arms.

  “And why not?”

  I sighed in frustration. It was getting later by the minute. I was losing the natural light, and I hadn’t gotten even half of what I wanted done today.

  “Is the electricity on?” Hunter asked.

  I reached out and flicked on the light switch. The antique chandelier that dominated the upper foyer lit up, even with half the bulbs missing.

  “Good. What about heat? Gas?”

  “Yes and yes,” I said. “But—”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  He was smirking at me now. Looking down at me with two thick forearms folded across a very sculpted chest. Hunter’s dark goatee matched his black tattoos. My eyes were drawn to them.

  “Look, the place is a wreck,” I said. “There’s no cable, no internet — every room is full of dust and debris.”

  I was a sucker for tattoos. Always had been.

  “Only half the furniture is salvageable,” I went on. “I still have to get a dumpster, carry all this crap out of here and then—

  “What if we helped you?” Brandon offered suddenly.

  I blinked and turned to look at him. His expression was genuine.

  “And why would you do that?’

  “Because this is the third place we’ve been sent,” said Colin. “And you’re kinda our last resort.”

  I still didn’t understand. “What do you mean last resort?”

  He shrugged and his blonde mop shrugged with him. “The Dean said this ‘might or might not’ be ready,” Colin acknowledged. “And if you turn us away we’ll have to find off campus housing. Which will suck, because it’s expensive.”

  “And which will double suck,” Hunter added, “because by now most of it is already taken.”

  My first instinct was to shake my head, but something stopped me. I found myself putting my hands on my hips.

  “You’d really live here?” I asked.

  They nodded in unison. Hunter seemed somewhat detached, but I could see pleading in the other’s eyes.

  “And you’d help out?”

  Three helpers! I thought to myself. Three very big, very strong helpers. I imagined all the work I could get done. All the money I could save… money the university had already allotted to me for cleanup and repairs.

  “Alright,” I sighed. “If you’re willing to live here I’m willing to work around you. And with you, now that you’ve all agreed to help out.”

  In a way it was perfect. Not only would I get the house ready three times faster, I’d also have some company. It had been lonely so far, working all these extra hours by myself. And at night?

  Well at night the place could be downright creepy.

  “Fine,” I said, pointing up the staircase. “Each of you can take a spare bedroom. Leave the master though, I’ve been piling all the extra stuff in there temporarily. We’ll clean that one out last.”

  Brandon’s face lit up instantly. “Yes!” he exclaimed. Grabbing his box, he sprinted up the stairs.

  Colin smiled and extended a hand. “Thanks so much…” He paused, and his eyebrows knit together. “Ummmm….”

  “Claudia,” I said, putting out my own.

  “Claudia,” he repeated, shaking it happily — paint and all. “You’re really saving our asses here.”

  His touch was warm and welcoming. It sent a little jolt of electricity up my arm.

  Someone’s gotta save those asses, I thought wickedly, watching them from behind as they headed up the stairs.

  Reaching for the brush again, I tried pushing those thoughts away.

  Three

  COLIN

  “Did you see her?” Brandon whispered as we reached the upstairs landing. “She’s perfect!”

  Hunter pushed past us, peering into each bedroom as he walked by. He’d take the best one for himself, I knew. That’s how it had always been; back when he’d been President of our fraternity house, and even before.

  “Leave her alone,” I warned. “She’s off limits.”

  “Really? And who decided that?”

  “We did,” I snapped, “the moment we decided to move in here.”

  Staring back at him, I could tell my friend still didn’t get it. Maybe he never would. To Brandon, the University’s latest in a string of football prodigies, restraint simply wasn’t in his vocabulary.

  “Look, you don’t shit where you eat,” I explained. “All one of us has to do is piss her off and then we’re out on our asses again. It’ll be just like Omega Alpha.”

  Omega Alpha. It was still a sore subject between the three of us. We’d made a pact not to talk about it, at least not until the semester ended. And the semester’s end was nowhere in sight.

  “Hey, I’m not looking to piss her off,” Brandon replied. “Just the opposite! I’m looking to show her some fun. Make her happy. Get her all—”

  “Get her all hot and bothered and into you,” I finished for him, “and then toss her away for the first cheerleader who throws a pom-pom your way.”

  “No, no. It’s not like that.”

  “It’s exactly like that,” I countered. “You don’t think, Brandon. Or rather, you think with the wrong head.”

  Up ahead, I saw Hunter disappear into one of the rooms on the left. Apparently he’d made his decision.

  “And besides,” I pointed out, “you’re on academic probation. Every spare minute you’re not practicing or working out you should be studying your face off. You don’t have time for a fling, or a girlfriend… hell you don’t even have time to jerk off!”

  My friend lowered his head guiltily. He knew he was right.

  “If you don’t get your grades up, you’re off the team,” I explained. “And if you’re off the team, you lose
your scholarship. And if you lose your scholarship—”

  “I’m out,” Brandon said glumly.

  “Exactly.”

  There was an awkward pause as we stood in the narrow corridor, which was growing darker with the setting sun. I reached for the light switch. The single bulb in the upstairs hallway was so covered with dust it felt like it was on a dimmer.

  “You’re right of course,” Brandon said finally. “You’re always right. It’s just that she’s so… well she’s such a cute girl. And I— I guess I got carried away.”

  She’s not cute, I wanted to say. She’s beautiful. Wildly beautiful. And she’s a woman, not a girl.

  In truth, I’d seen those things the moment I walked through the house’s big old antique door. Claudia was exactly the type of girl I’d go for; Auburn hair, porcelain skin. Curvy and beautiful, with full breasts and smooth voluptuous thighs.

  Just like Holly.

  Holly…

  I pressed my lips together, sourly. No matter what I tried to distract myself from the breakup, my thoughts always floated back to my ex girlfriend. Holly, my high-school sweetheart. The girl who’d agreed to marry me, even if it was through the simple pledge of a cheesy promise ring.

  Holly, the girl who’d cheated on me with my friend. And not just any friend… but my best friend.

  Fuck you Derrick.

  It was about as screwed up a situation as screwed up situations got. It had taken me two long years at Community College before finally being accepted here. And now here I was, thousands of miles from home. Trying to forget that Holly and Derrick were still back in our home town, living together.

  A familiar nausea began in the pit of my stomach. I could see the two of them now, clear as day. Probably doing all the same things we used to do. Going all the same places we used to—

  “This place sure needs a ton of work,” Brandon said, wiping one big finger along the wall. It came back absolutely covered in grime.