by Becca Van
Pack Law 5
Vegetarian Mate
Rochelle Murphy is looking for adventure and takes to the road. In desperate need of a bathroom, she stops at a large estate and asks to use the facilities.
After an unconventional and humorous meeting, Jarrod, Malcolm, and Braxton Friess know that the feisty, klutzy Rochelle is their mate—and a vegetarian.
Time and again Rochelle injures herself, and whilst she is recuperating, the three Friess brothers try to woo her into their hearts as well as their beds. Finally Rochelle accepts the three brothers, but they have unintentionally left out a significant fact, which sends Rochelle looking for some time out, just as danger arrives in Aztec, New Mexico.
Will Rochelle be so repulsed she can’t face them again?
Will the three Friess brothers be able to find their mate before it is too late? Or will the lone wolf get to her first?
Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.
Genre: Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 36,272 words
VEGETARIAN MATE
Pack Law 5
Becca Van
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
VEGETARIAN MATE
Copyright © 2012 by Becca Van
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-722-3
First E-book Publication: October 2012
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of Vegetarian Mate by Becca Van from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
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This is Becca Van’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Van’s right to earn a living from her work.
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DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to Rochelle Martin of the UK, for her suggestion of a coming-soon tag for my website and for advising ways to make it happen. My heroine is named after you, Rochelle! Thank you!
VEGETARIAN MATE
Pack Law 5
BECCA VAN
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
Rochelle Murphy was lost. Seriously lost. She’d meant to pull over hours ago and find a place to stay for the night, but she hadn’t seen anything bigger than a gas station in the past hour. Even finding one of those would be welcome, since she didn’t think she could hold her bladder for much longer.
She settled for pulling over on the shoulder. She wrenched the GPS off the dash and smacked the side of it with her hand. The thing had gone on the fritz over two hours ago, and even though she had been on the lookout for road signs, she hadn’t seen anything that would direct her back to the interstate. In fact, she hadn’t really been paying attention. She so loved listening to the radio and singing along that she got caught up in it and little else registered in her brain.
Chagrinned by that thought, she turned down the radio. It was time to concentrate. If she didn’t find a bathroom soon, she might just have to pull off the side of the road and go behind a tree. Rochelle shuddered at the thought. She was a woman who liked her modern conveniences.
Rochelle squinted into the darkness, but there was nothing ahead. Sighing, she pulled back onto the road.
The silence of the car weighed on her, but she didn’t turn the radio back up. I’m just tired. She’d been on the road for a month after leaving her dead-end job, leasing out the room of the apartment she had shared with another girl, and taking off. She wanted to see some of her own country and then maybe, when she could afford it, some of the world. Her hometown of Evansville, Kentucky, just hadn’t felt right to her, and she had no family to tie her there. So she had set out on an adventure to find what she felt in her heart was waiting for her.
Haven’t found it yet, either.
She told herself to cut it out. She liked this carefree life. She’d worked her way across three states, stopping wherever she wanted and getting employment in diners, pubs, or supermarkets to replenish her cash supply. It had given her a freedom that she thought she’d never be able to sacrifice, but Rochelle still wasn’t happy. Not that she was sad. She just felt that something was missing from her life.
But she wasn’t going to wait for whatever that was to come to her. Rochelle intended to find what she was looking for by herself.
She squirmed in her seat. The only thing she needed to find right this second, though, was a bathroom. Her situation was getting downright painful.
She nearly gasped out loud when she saw lights in the distance. The lights flashed through the trees intermittently, and by the time she spied a large wrought-iron gate to what had to be a private property, she was wiggling in her seat and her bladder felt like it was about to burst.
The last thing she wanted to do was go behind a tree, so she did the only thing she could think of. Rochelle pulled into the entry of the drive and eyed the small box off the side of the gate. Beyond desperation, she got out of her car and pushed the button. As she did, she saw golden eyes glowing in the darkness just off the drive on the other side of the gates. She jumped about a foot off the ground when what appeared to be a large wolf moved toward her, sniffing the air. Just as she was about to run b
ack and dive into her car, a deep voice came over the intercom.
“Yes, can I help you?”
With her eyes still pinned on the wolf, Rochelle cleared her throat and tried to speak. The first thing that popped out of her mouth wasn’t what she had intended to say.
“There’s a wolf.”
“Yes, don’t worry about it. The wolf won’t hurt you. What can I do for you?”
Shivers raced up and down her spine as the deep cadence of the disembodied voice washed over her, causing goose bumps to erupt all over her body.
“Uh, I know I’m being a little forward and probably rude. But I’ve been traveling for hours and am lost. I would really appreciate it if I could use your restroom.”
Rochelle cursed the breathy desperation she heard in her own voice and placed her hand over her aching bladder as she danced from one foot to the other, waiting with bated breath for an answer.
“Sure. Come up the drive to the house, and I’ll meet you out front.”
A click sounded, and Rochelle presumed the man had disconnected the intercom. The gates began to open silently. She ran back to her car, hoping the wolf wouldn’t get to her before she made it, and sighed with relief when she had the door closed. Searching as best she could through the dark, she couldn’t spot the wolf. Her overfull bladder caused her to moan in pain, but she put her car into drive and headed up the driveway.
When the house finally came into view, she gasped in awe. It was huge. She didn’t think houses were built like this one anymore and felt a little overwhelmed that she had obviously stopped at some rich asshole’s mansion.
Her imagination brought forth an eccentric elderly man with gray hair and a body made beefy from too much easy living. The owner would have to be eccentric to let a wolf roam the grounds. But she couldn’t have been more wrong.
She stared as she slowed her car near the entry and gaped as the biggest, most muscular mountain of a man she’d ever seen came down the steps. His bald head gleamed under the lights and his shoulders rippled beneath the knit cotton of his T-shirt. Standing at around six foot five and probably coming in at two hundred and eighty pounds, he looked like a linebacker with his massive biceps and pecs and his strong, brawny thighs. A jagged scar ran from just above his left eyebrow and down his cheek, but instead of detracting from his looks, it immediately brought to mind swashbuckling pirates. But the mark reminded her of the wolf she had seen and the claws it no doubt had.
Rochelle opened her door before he reached it and stood. She didn’t want to feel even more intimidated by meeting the man sitting on her ass.
“Hi, I’m Jarrod Friess. And you are?”
“Rochelle Murphy. I’m sorry for disturbing your evening, but thank you from the bottom of my heart,” she said with another little wiggle.
“If you would like to come inside, I’ll let you use the bathroom.” She saw his mouth twitch with amusement, but that wasn’t the only emotion on his face. The heated look in his eyes gave her pause. But she was too distressed to worry about him just then.
“Thanks,” Rochelle squeaked, slamming her car door closed and following Jarrod inside.
“Take the set of stairs up the first landing and turn left, follow the hall down to the end, and take a right. The bathroom is the fourth door down on the left,” he stated. Rochelle did her best to listen from the semitrance she was in, drowning in the blue depths of his eyes. The spell only broke when he closed those eyes and inhaled as if he was sniffing her. Rochelle frowned, but she was too desperate to question what he was doing.
Rochelle literally ran up the stairs and took a left. After that she took a right but forgot which door he said led to the bathroom. She cautiously opened each door and was thankful when she didn’t encounter anyone. By the third door, she was so close to peeing herself she didn’t think she could walk another step. She walked into the opulent bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her, and scanned the interior. Shit. Shit. Shit. No toilet. I can’t wait.
Decision made, Rochelle unsnapped her jeans and pulled her pants down. She lifted her ass over the edge of the sink, used her hands to grip the sides, and scooted back a little. Her feet left the floor, and she ended up with the cold sink digging into her legs at midthigh from beneath and sighed with relief. The sink would have to do. Just as she was about to get down from her precarious perch, a vibration made her clutch the rim tighter. She hit the floor with a squeak, and pain exploded in her head. That was the last thing she remembered as she slipped into unconsciousness.
* * * *
Malcolm Friess had gone for a run before dinner to relieve the stress after a long day at work. He and his brothers, Jarrod and Braxton, all worked at the Aztec Sheriff’s Department. Earlier that day they had attended a traffic accident and, much to their horror, children had been injured. The kids would survive, thank God, but he hated knowing about or seeing any form of injury to a child. After changing forms, he had lit out around the grounds of the den house, trying to relieve the ache and tightness in his muscles. Just as he neared the entry gate, he heard a car slow and saw headlights gleaming through the wrought-iron gate.
Malcolm wound his way along the fence line and stayed out of sight while sniffing the air. The tension which had only just left came back in full force, but this time for an entirely different reason. He stepped into the clearing and stared intently at the delectable woman on the other side of the gate. She was so close and yet so far away. Her delicious scent wafted toward him on the breeze, hardening every muscle in his body. His cock filled with blood, and he kept to the shadows as he crept closer to the gate. The sound of a car door being opened caused his ears to twitch forward. He stood still as her light-blue eyes pinned him with nervous intensity and then heard the intercom buzzer being pushed.
Jarrod answered the call, and since he wanted to get closer to the woman on the other side of the fence, he spoke to his older brother, using their private mind link.
“Mate!” He pushed the word to his brothers and stepped onto the side of the gravel drive. Her eyes connected with his, making her jump, and he knew without a doubt he was going to do everything within his power to keep this woman at the pack house.
Malcolm listened to her talk to Jarrod and watched her return to her car. He backed up and merged with the shadows once more, not wanting to frighten her in his animal form. Keeping pace with her car, he ran alongside the drive, knowing she wasn’t even aware of his presence. Staying at the edge of the trees, he watched as Jarrod greeted Rochelle Murphy and led her into the den.
Malcolm ran around the side of the house and changed back to his human form. Brax was waiting at the side door with his clothes. After quickly dressing, he rushed inside, joining his brothers as they stood at the bottom of the stairs. Inhaling deeply, he groaned as his cock pulsed and his balls ached. The scent of raspberries assailed his nostrils, ratcheting up his desire even more. Just as he was about to ask his brother if he had talked to her as he led her inside, a rumble sounded, and then a loud crash and a thud reverberated against his eardrum.
Malcolm and his brothers sprinted up the stairs and down the hall. Jarrod burst into the bathroom, the lock giving away beneath his weight, with Malcolm and Brax right behind. His mate was out cold on the floor with her jeans and panties down around her ankles. The sink which had been on the wall in the bathroom was broken in pieces behind her. He felt like laughing and also felt deep concern for his unconscious woman.
Obviously she hadn’t been able to find the toilet and had used the facilities on hand. “Shit,” Jarrod growled, but his lips twitched and his eyes twinkled with amusement. “Help me get her covered up and call Blayk. We need him to check her over.”
Malcolm reached out for her panties and moaned as his hand connected with the silky-smooth skin of her calf. He let his eyes wander over her as he and Brax pulled her undies up. Her hair was a combination of gold and darker blonde and long enough to reach the top of her ass. Her eyebrows were light golden, and her lash
es, which formed crescents against her pale cheeks, were a contrasting ebony. She was average height with full hips and shapely thighs, which he could just imagine wrapped around his hips.
He inhaled her sweet fragrance once more, and his eyes alighted on the light sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her lips were a pale pink, and he wanted to lean down and taste her but restrained himself. Malcolm didn’t want to take advantage of her and was growing even more concerned that she didn’t show any signs of coming around.
Jarrod carefully lifted her hips so that he and Brax could pull her jeans up and fasten them. When she was once more decent, his brother picked her up and carried her out of the bathroom, along the corridor, and back down the stairs. He followed in Jarrod’s wake to the back of the house, where Blayk’s office was set up.
One of the others must have signaled the doctor, since Blayk was waiting for them. Jarrod carefully placed her on the exam table.
“What the hell happened?”
“Uh, she had an accident,” Jarrod replied in a strangled voice.
“Well, I figured.” Blayk frowned at Jarrod. “Can you be more specific? I want to know how you found her.”
“I think she hit her head on the floor in the bathroom,” Malcolm stated through a tight throat.
“How the hell did she end up on the floor?” Blayk muttered as he examined their mate.