Claiming Her Mates: Book One

by Dia Cole

  He brought my hand to his lips, the rough stubble on his jaw gently scraping my knuckles.

  “Then we should make it the best Christmas you’ve ever had,” Mason said, coming up behind me. He wrapped his long tanned arms around my waist and settled his clean-shaven face on the curve of my neck.

  Smiling, I nuzzled Mason’s golden hair marveling at its softness.

  If anything, Gabriel’s expression darkened. Through our bond, I could feel the worry gnawing at him.

  “What’s wrong, Gabriel?”

  “Nathan will come,” he said solemnly. “The storm has passed. There’s nothing keeping him away now.”

  “Good. I can’t wait to see Mira again.” I smiled thinking of the little spitfire and how she’d wrap my mates around her pinkie finger in no time.

  “He’ll be pissed about this.” Gabriel motioned between the four of us.

  I shrugged. “He can deal. We’re together and there’s nothing Nathan can do to change that.”

  Gabriel pressed his lips together, but he couldn’t keep me from his thoughts. “She loves him. When he comes, she may decide she wants him. Not us.”

  I squeezed his hand. “I loved Nathan. He’s the past. You, Liam, and Mason are my future.”

  “Damn straight,” Liam said, joining our mental chat. He strode over to the window and reached for my free hand. “If he challenges us we’ll lay the hurt down, right, Gabe?”

  The head Enforcer answered with a fierce baring of his teeth. “Hell, yeah.”

  “Havana is ours, and we are hers, forever,” Mason added, tightening his grip around my waist. “Now, back to a much more important topic. What do you want for Christmas, love?”

  With Gabriel holding my right hand, Liam holding my left hand, and Mason’s arms wrapped snug around me, I sighed with contentment. “I can’t think of a single thing.”

  Liam rubbed his beard for a moment and then gave me a wicked grin. “Well, I have some ideas.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Oh really. Like what?”

  Liam didn’t say anything, but gave a knowing glance to Mason and Gabriel.

  “Great idea, brother. Why don’t we all go and check out that walk-in shower?” Gabriel tugged me toward the bathroom.

  Mason let the dark-haired man pull me out of his arms. “Excellent plan. Dibs on the bench.”

  Laughing the four of us rushed toward the door. It was hours before we emerged, wet, flushed from the hot water, and very, very satisfied.

  THANKS FOR READING

  If you enjoyed this book please leave a review on Amazon or any other reader site or blog you frequent. I prioritize finishing series based on the reviews I receive so if you would like to see more of Havana and her sexy men let me know!

  Click here for the super sexy extended (shower) bonus scene (WARNING: IT’S SCORCHING HOT!!!!)

  About the Author

  Dia wanted to be a writer from the time she could hold a pencil. A lover of science fiction, urban fantasy, horror, and paranormal romance, she writes action-packed stories featuring kick-butt heroines and the alpha male heroes who fall for them.

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  Books By Dia Cole

  Heaven Before Hell

  Lover in Hell

  Heaven in Hell: Boxed Set (Episodes 1-4)

  Heaven in Hell: Boxed Set (Episodes 5—8)

  Undead Worlds 2 Anthology (Breakfast in Hell)

  Claiming The Nanny (prequel to Claiming Her Mates)

  Claiming Her Mates: Book One

  Claiming Her Mates: Book One Bonus Scene FREE!

  Claiming Her Mates: Book Two

  Claiming Her Mates: Book Three (Coming Winter 2019)

  Last Night in Hell: Ruined Between the Sheets

  Excerpt from Heaven Before Hell

  Summary

  On the eve of the apocalypse…

  Twenty-year-old Lee Walker is trying to make ends meet in the aftermath of a worldwide flu epidemic. Her life is complicated by a dangerous drug lord who can’t seem to take no for an answer, a sister who can’t keep herself out of jail, a close friend who wants to take things to the next level, and a coworker who’s nasty pranks are no laughing matter. But when people start turning into zombies, Lee realizes the only thing that matters is saving her family from a world rapidly devolving into hell.

  1

  Dance music shook the stage as I spun around the pole in my G-string. A few rogue feathers from the wings strapped to my back floated gently to the body glitter-encrusted floor. Following them to the ground, I crawled on my hands and knees over to the middle-aged man waving dollar bills in the air.

  The rumpled off-the-rack tweed vest he wore told me he was likely one of the professors from the Southern Arizona University campus down the street.

  Disappointing.

  He wouldn’t have deep pockets like some of my big tippers. But beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  Especially tonight.

  Other than the professor, there were only seven other patrons in the strip club—Sly, a regular who came for the booze not the boobs, five dark-haired men talking quietly in the back corner, and Duncan, who was like a surrogate uncle to me. Since finding out the club bouncers had been laid off, the cowboy-hat-wearing, grizzly old vet had come to every one of my shows. Duncan, always quick to spot trouble, never took his eyes off the dark-haired men deep in conversation.

  The men’s menacing vibe made me glad they sat far from the stage. They’d started meeting at Eros a few weeks ago. Max, my boss, was either too desperate for business or too scared to make them leave.

  Truth be told, the guys dressed in black with gang tattoos creeping past their collars didn’t rattle me as much as the elegant-looking man sitting in the center of them. Javier Diaz was rumored to run one of the largest drug cartels in the Southwest. His gang, the Calaveras, was renowned for their violence and brutality.

  Pity.

  Even if he wasn’t wearing a three-thousand-dollar suit, Javier would be one amazing-looking man, He wasn’t as large as the men seated around him, but he radiated power. Tonight, his shoulder-length hair was tied back, emphasizing high cheekbones, full lips, and startling amber eyes. Those predatory eyes studied my body as I danced.

  I shivered, feeling like I was caught in the stare of a jungle cat. Trying to ignore the striking man, I focused on the professor. Based on the flush in his cheeks, he’d had more than the two-drink minimum.

  Good for me. Bad for his bank account.

  I cupped my bare breasts and lifted them for his perusal.

  He licked his lips and handed me a wad of bills.

  I tucked them in my G-string as I undulated my hips.

  What was it about guys and breasts? They seemed to lose all reason when a pair was flashed their way.

  It was the same with the professor. His pupils dilated and he swallowed hard. He rubbed his mouth with one trembling hand while reaching for his wallet with the other.

  Excellent.

  I purred my approval. I caressed my inner thighs making seductive promises with my heavy-lidded gaze.

  For this moment, I’ll be your woman. Your fantasy.

  Of course it was just an act, I’d never be any man’s anything. But he didn’t need to know that. I slipped my fingers into my G-string and snapped the elastic band.

  He gasped, his eyes glazed with lust.

  Donna sidled up next to him, adjusting the crooked Santa hat clipped to her badly dyed blond hair. “Wanna another drink?”

  The professor tore his gaze from me.

  The spell was broken.

  I glared at the waitress.

  Crappy timing.

  As if realizing her mistake, she gave me an apologetic look and mouthed “Sorry, Lee.” Given the dark shadows under her eyes, she probably hadn’t slept in weeks. And no wonder. She’d
lost her son to the canine flu a few months back and had never really recovered. I forgave her immediately. I knew all too well the pain of losing loved ones.

  The song ended. Max, clutching a mic in his thick hands, hoofed it to the stage. “Give it up for our gorgeous Heavenly creature. You can get a taste of Heaven every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night. Up next, Mistress Robin will whip you into shape.”

  Duncan tipped his hat, motioned to the parking lot, and limped out the door. Sly slumped over his table. Javier raised his cognac glass in my direction as his men continued to ignore me. At least the professor clapped wildly.

  Another piss-poor night.

  I let out a deep sigh. I nodded at Max and stood as gracefully as I could in six-inch stilettos. I blew a kiss to the professor, gathered up the lingerie I’d scattered around the stage, and exited through the back curtains.

  Havana, encased in silver-studded black latex, was preparing to go on. “Is it dead out there?”

  “Stone-cold. Damn holidays.” I couldn’t wait for Christmas to be over. Not only did it hurt business, but the holiday season always reminded me of dark times I’d rather forget.

  She sighed. “It’s been bad since the canine flu hit.”

  No argument there. Not only had the worldwide epidemic killed off a quarter of the population, it’d also wreaked havoc on businesses everywhere. “Things will get better with the vaccine.” All anyone talked about were the free shots that had just been rolled out to the public. I hadn’t had time to wait in the huge lines to get mine yet.

  “Took ‘em long enough. Damn, if things around here don’t pick up soon, I might have to start nannying again.”

  I smiled at the image of the BDSM queen looking after kids.

  She adjusted one of the straps on her thigh-high stiletto boots. “What will you do?”

  My mind blanked.

  What will I do?

  My waitressing gig wasn’t paying much either these days, and it wasn’t as if high school dropouts had a lot of options. I still had little money stashed away from better times.

  But that won’t get us far.

  Techno music blared from the speakers out front.

  Havana uncoiled her whip. “That’s my cue.”

  Nodding goodbye, I headed to the dressing room. A thick cloud of coconut-scented body spray hung over the narrow room. Six makeup vanity mirrors competed for space with the rows of lockers behind them. I waved to Cami, who was doing her makeup in the back, and made my way to my chair.

  I started to sit, but thankfully remembered to unstrap my wings before I crushed them. Those damn things cost a pretty penny, not that I didn’t have a backup pair. I glanced in the mirror at the black tattoo of angel wings that covered my back from the tops of my shoulders to the base of my spine. Getting inked hurt like a bitch, but it was a fitting tribute to the older sister I’d lost.

  I hung the fluffy white wings on a nearby hook and then collapsed into my chair. Kicking off my stilettos brought some feeling back into my toes. I rubbed my feet, trying to remember a time when they didn’t ache.

  A naked pair of double Ds brushed my cheek.

  I glared up at the tiny blonde woman standing over me. “Get your tits out of my face, Cami.”

  She laughed and took a step back. “Jealous?”

  I raised a brow.

  “Okay, Okay. I’m the jealous one. You’ve a better rack and you didn’t even have to pay for it.”

  I reached into my white G-string, pulled out the crumpled one-dollar bills, and slapped them on the counter. “Fat lot of good they did me tonight. Twenty bucks, and I didn’t pull in much more at my shift at Hooters. At this rate, I won’t make rent.”

  Her forehead furrowed. “You know, you could always join me doing escort work. You’d made great money. Don’t give me that look. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. It’s not like we’re hookers or anything.”

  I raised my brow again.

  “Fine. If you want to make the good money, you do a few things…Men would pay top dollar to pop that cherry of yours. I’m talking four or five Gs, baby girl.”

  I rested my head on my hands.

  Is this what I’ve been reduced to? Bartering my virginity? Gran would be flipping in her grave if she could see me now.

  I felt Cami’s hand on my shoulder. “You look tired, sugar. Forget I said anything.” She paused. “Have you seen the news?”

  “No. Why?”

  The fact that she didn’t say anything right away was clue enough that something was up. I lifted my gaze to meet her cornflower blue eyes in the mirror. “Why, Cami?”

  She fiddled with the tiny plaid skirt she wore. “Best Friends staged a rally earlier tonight.”

  At the mention of my sister’s animal rights group, my stomach tightened. “Eden said they were just meeting for coffee.”

  Cami set her bubblegum-pink, gem-encrusted cell phone down on the counter in front of me. A video from the local news station played.

  I peered into the tiny screen.

  A distinguished-looking male reporter cleared his throat. “…Around the country reports of canine flu vaccine reactions are emerging. At least twenty deaths have been linked to the long-awaited vaccine, and several hospitals, including our own Saguaro Valley General, have reported bizarre cannibalistic behavior among a subset of recently vaccinated. The CDC has denied that the vaccine has played any role in these—”

  Cami snatched her phone up. “Holy crap. I got my vaccine earlier today. Oh my God. I thought the injection site looked weird. Does it look strange to you?” She held up her left arm. Colorful tattoos covered it from shoulder to wrist.

  I scoffed. “Like I can see anything under all that ink.”

  She poked at her skin. “It feels numb, and I swear there are a bunch of black veins there. I never should’ve let my sister blackmail me into getting that vaccine. Everyone knows the government fills vaccines with poison. Just the other day I was reading a blog that said—”

  “Enough with your conspiracy theories.” I tugged the phone back and pressed the play button. The video continued.

  “…And in local news, earlier this evening a local animal rights group clashed with police at the Canine Memorial Fountain in Heritage Square. The group has been vocal in protesting Order 1537—the law requiring all dogs be euthanized to stop the spread of the deadly canine flu.”

  Behind the reporter, footage played of police in riot gear closing in on a group of screaming people.

  Something in the corner of the screen caught my eye.

  I hit the pause button and stared at the image of my sister standing on the edge of the fountain.

  Damn it. The brat is even wearing my favorite jacket.

  Eden’s dark brown hair flew around her oval face as she held up a sign that read Don’t Kill Our Fur Babies.

  I felt the blood drain out of my face. “She promised she wouldn’t do this again.”

  I’d spent more money bailing her out of jail over the past few months than I had on food for her, Reed, and me. My thumb must’ve brushed the play button because the reporter continued, “All protesters were arrested and no injuries were reported. Only ten more shopping days left until Christm—”

  I ended the video and looked into Cami’s sympathetic gaze. “Goddamn it. I’m going to kill her.”

  “Give her a break. She’s only nineteen.”

  “That’s only a year and a half younger than we are. I’m so tired of her bullshit. She spends all her time on this stupid animal rights crap and hasn’t bothered to go on even one of the job interviews I’ve set up for her. Not that she’s likely to get any offers with her growing rap sheet.” I let out a deep breath. “Can I make a call?”

  “Didn’t you finally get your own phone?”

  I felt my cheeks flush. “I don’t know where it is.”

  Likely my klepto of a sister helped herself to it like she did all my stuff.

  Not that I’d really cared. It’d taken
both Cami and Reed begging me to get with the twenty-first century before I’d agreed to get a cell phone in the first place. As a self-proclaimed technophobe, I just didn’t see the point.

  “Sure. I gotta finish my face or I’ll scare the men off.”

  “Shut up. You know you’re gorgeous.” I wasn’t exaggerating. The petite woman was a walking Barbie doll. Her light skin and blond hair were a stark contrast to my dark coloring. It was a sad fact that the older I got, the more I looked like my father.

  May the monster burn in hell for all eternity.

  “That’s why you’re my best friend, sugar. You’re great for the ego,” she said, sashaying over to her chair.

  Having long ago memorized the non emergency line, I quickly dialed the police station.

  It was busy.

  That’s odd.

  Deciding that finding my sister constituted an emergency, I called 9-1-1.

  It was busy too.

  What the hell? Aren’t dispatchers supposed to answer all emergency calls?

  Ending the call, I called Reed’s cell phone.

  “Yaaallo,” said the voice on the other line.

  “Reed?” I asked momentarily taken aback.

  “Nah. This is the Ron Meister, baby. You sound hot. You should come over and party with us.”

  I could barely hear him over the sound of raucous laughter and music. My blood simmered. “Ronnie, this is Lee. Put Reed on NOW.”

  It sounded as if the phone dropped.

  “Ronnie,” I shouted.

  I heard him curse and yell, “Turn the music down.”

  “Oh. Ah. Sorry about that, Lee. I’ll get him right now.”

  My spiking blood pressure didn’t allow me to enjoy the nervousness in his tone.

  “Lee,” said a deep, mellow voice a moment later.

  “Reed, tell me you didn’t let your stupid band friends throw another party at our house.”