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

by Michele Bardsley

  “Genetics isn’t everything.” Jack smoothed her hair. “You have a good heart.”

  “A fiery heart,” added Grant. He stroked the part of the dress that hid the tattoo—the fiery heart that had drawn them into her life, into a dead matchmaker’s prophecy. “Is there a story for this?”

  “Only tattoo I have.” She shook her head. “My brother Derek got one, too. Except his heart is icy. Fire and ice. We were teenagers, and Mom insisted we start getting tattoos. We decided to each get one—just keep her off our backs for a while. Anyway. I’m fire. I’m the one who charges in. Derek’s the one who thinks ahead. He keeps calm. He’s ice. It’s why he makes such a good soldier.” She sighed. “I miss him.”

  “He’s welcome in our pack,” said Jack. “There’s no reason he’ll ever have to return to Blood Pack. He has a place with us always.”

  “Thank you,” said Roxie. “Maybe he’ll come home instead of signing up for another tour.” Restless, she drew away from them. She walked to a window and moved the curtain to look down at the street below. The constantly flashing lights on the hotels couldn’t compete with the brightness of the desert sun. Daylight hours were not kind to Las Vegas, revealing the grime so easily hidden by the night. The dirty streets, worn sidewalks, and brash hawkers of all things tawdry reminded her of the Blood Pack compound. Some brave souls had tried planting flowers and cleaning graffiti off the walls, but it was wasted effort. Chaos reigned. Her mother expected her pack to be tough. Destruction of things and people was part and parcel of being a bad ass.

  Roxie was so tired of that attitude. And Crawl was a hundred times worse than their mother. Karen was apathetic to anyone who didn’t factor into keeping the pack running with scams and brutality with the exception of her husband Cody. Crawl had no empathy at all. He wanted the world to burn. Hell, he’d pour the gasoline and light the match.

  Would marrying Earth Pack alphas provide the protection she needed? Or was she fooling herself—and putting the two men she cared about in terrible danger?

  She moved away from the window, sinking onto the couch, while her stomach clutched with nerves.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Grant looked through the peephole, and then opened the door. A gray-haired man dressed in a white suit and a bolo tie stepped inside. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He had an open, friendly face with kind blue eyes. He smiled. “I’m Hank. I’m here to perform your wedding.”

  Grant shut the door behind older man. “I’m Grant. That’s Jack. And our bride is Roxie.”

  “You know about Earth Pack rites?” asked Jack, as he crossed the room to shake Hank’s hand.

  “I know every pack’s rites,” said Hank. He shook Grant’s hand next. “It’s part and parcel of being a shifter shaman in Las Vegas. We get our fair share of werewolf weddings.”

  Roxie stood up and took Hank’s hand, pressing it between both of hers. “We’re so glad you’re here.”

  “Mrs. Pearson filled me in. I understand you want the short version?”

  All three nodded. His smiled widened. “I can do that. Come. Let’s find a comfortable spot and we’ll begin.”

  They moved the coffee table to the side of the couch, and then the four of them took their places. Hank faced the werewolves. Roxie stood between Jack and Grant and they all held hands. Roxie’s nerves got the better of her, and she found her hands going cold and clammy. Grant and Jack’s grips tightened in comfort and empathy.

  “Earth mother, moon father, sun father, we honor you this day with the mating of this triad, the leaders of your people.” Hank’s voice was confident and soothing. He looked at them, and his obvious joy filtered into Roxie, calming her nerves. “These three are connected heart and soul, and have committed to love and honor each other and their pack until the end of their days.” Hank nodded toward them. “Do you have the rings?”

  The gold, silver, and copper rings signified the Earth Pack triad. Grant and Jack had brought the simple wedding bands with them from Oregon, just in case they found their mate. Las Vegas was the land of nuptials, after all.

  Roxie presented her left hand. Jack’s tender gaze held hers as he placed a gold band onto the fingers of Roxie and Grant. Then it was Grant’s turn. He slid silver rings on Roxie and Jack’s fingers.

  Inhaling a steady breath, Roxie took the copper bands and did the same.

  “These rings show your bond to each other and to the pack you lead. They signify the joy of your connections and remind you all that your lives will be interwoven until death do you three part. With the love and blessings of earth mother, moon father, and sun father bestowed upon this triad, I pronounce you married. You may kiss the bride.”

  Jack went first—a soft, light kiss. And then Grant took Roxie’s lips, offering swift pressure, sweet promise.

  Jack walked Hank to the door and paid him in cash. Then he returned to his companions.

  Roxie blew out a nervous breath. “Okay, then. Should we make this official-official or what?”

  Grant grinned. “Let’s get naked.”

  8

  GETTING NAKED was the least complicated task when it came to the Earth Pack mating ritual. It would go something like this: One alpha, one alpha, and then two alphas. In other words, Roxie was in for a sexually decadent evening.

  She should’ve requested some power bars.

  And a Thigh Master.

  Roxie went into the bathroom and got undressed. She wore a barely-there pink bra that matched her skimpy lace panties. She observed herself in the mirror. She wasn’t some skinny human girl. She had curves werewolf style. Most shifters preferred mates with meat on their bones. She examined her body, smoothing her palms down the soft flesh of her stomach. She smiled. Her curvy self was about to get some serious loving.

  She’d never had a threesome.

  Now, here she was fulfilling the mating rituals of the Earth Pack alphas. When she’d run away from the Blood Pack, from the idiocy of the Suitor’s Brawl, she’d couldn’t never imagined her life would take this kind of turn.

  She looked down at her hand, at the two bands shining against her finger.

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  I’m married, she thought, feeling suddenly giddy. She mussed her red hair a little, checked her make-up for any flaws, and then inhaled a deep breath.

  Despite growing up in the Blood Pack, where beliefs about sex were the same as violence—the more, the better, Roxie had very few boyfriends, and her limited sexual experiences hadn’t prepared her for the way she burned so hot for Jack and Grant. The idea of doing every wicked thing possible with her men, her mates, excited Roxie.

  You can do this, girl.

  When Roxie reentered the bedroom, she found Grant sprawled on the bed.

  He was deliciously naked.

  She let her gaze rove his muscled body. He had his arms behind his head, and she couldn’t help but notice the sexy, hard curves of his biceps. She studied his drool-worthy wide chest with its curls of dark hair. His six-pack abs and thick thighs were mesmerizing. Then there was the ultimate prize: His already hardening cock.

  Just looking at that man had erotic heat pulsing through her.

  She crawled onto the bed and he moved to take her into his arms. For a long moment, he only embraced her and stared into her eyes. She returned his gaze frankly and matched his wicked grin with one of her own.

  “You’re gorgeous.” His lips captured hers. She melted into him, into his warmth, his strength, and gave him everything.

  Her body.

  Her heart.

  Desire and need streaked through her, pooling wet and hot between her thighs. Reaching between their heated bodies, she stroked his thick length.

  Grant moaned, and then he tangled his fingers in her hair as he deepened their kiss, thrusting his tongue inside to duel with hers.

  His lips moved down her throat, his tongue flicking the dimple at its base. Roxie moaned as he nuzzled the skin between her breasts, raining kisses over
her quivering flesh.

  He reached around and unhooked the bra. After tossing the flimsy lingerie to the floor, he cupped her breasts in his hands and squeezed. His warm hands on her sensitive skin made her shiver.

  His mouth closed over one turgid nipple. Desire rippled through her and sent wave after wave of lust straight to her core. She couldn’t help but moan as ecstasy shuddered through her. He suckled her other nipple, giving it the same torturous attention.

  “Grant,” she sighed, her hands threading through his silky dark brown hair. “You feel so good.”

  “You are beautiful,” he murmured. “I could devour you, babe.” His hand coasted down her stomach and slid into her panties.

  “So wet.” His desire-glazed eyes found hers. She smiled as his fingers stroked her. “Mmm. I want to see you.”

  He crawled between her legs and dragged off the pink lace panties. He stared at her moist sex. “Yummy.”

  “You like?”

  “I love.” He settled down and pressed his mouth against her. His tongue wiggled down into her moist heat.

  Grant licked the evidence of her desire off her inner thighs then dove inside her entrance. Roxie gasped as pleasure ricocheted through her. Grant’s tongue darted in and out of her, the strokes rough and fast.

  Her hips pumped to match his rhythm. She grabbed the bedspread as she felt bliss coil tight and hot. His mouth moved to her clit and closed over it, sucking hard. Just as an orgasm threatened to overwhelm her, he let go.

  “Grant!”

  He chuckled.

  An ache settled between her thighs. Her pussy pulsed in need, in want.

  Grant, that tormenting bastard, once again suckled her tight, juicy pearl. He inserted two fingers inside her entrance. The rough plunge of his fingers matched the sweet thrusts of his tongue.

  Her orgasm built, higher and higher. But just as she would’ve tipped over the edge, Grant stopped.

  “I swear to God I’m going to kill you,” she muttered.

  He laughed. Then Grant kissed each of her hips and licked her belly. His lips found every inch of skin between her groin and her breasts. How wonderful to feel him touch her, kiss her.

  Her passion turned white-hot.

  He moved on top of her, parted her thighs, and with his heated gaze on hers, entered her in one swift stroke. Roxie gasped. With one hand, he captured her wrists and raised her arms above her head. His cock filled her, his motions slow, steady, and tender. She wrapped her legs around his waist and surged forward, meeting his every thrust.

  Waves of pleasure crested through her. Oh, yes!

  Grant released her wrists, looped his arms under her shoulders, and pounded into her. He groaned—the sound caught against her flesh. He was as lost as she in this moment. She bucked against him, her clit throbbing as she sought release.

  “Roxie,” he panted. “Oh, babe, you feel so good.”

  The denied orgasm quivered for an endless moment… then burst like sunshine—heat, light, joy. She was carried away by the sheer intensity. She clutched Grant as she rode the decadent swells of absolute pleasure.

  It took her a little while to realize that Grant had stopped moving. She blinked up at him. “You didn’t come.”

  He offered her a slow smile. “I will.”

  “Damn right, you will.” She flipped him onto his back. He landed on the mattress with a startled groan. She immediately got on top of him. She kissed Grant’s jaw, dragging her lips down his neck then back up again. Her fingers reached down and curled around his cock and stroked.

  Grant’s eyes fluttered close and he offered a groan of pure desire.

  She let go, and his eyes flew open, his expression filled with disappointment. She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Don’t worry,” she said, “you’re getting ready to be a very happy man.”

  He grinned.

  With lips and tongue, Roxie worked her way to his pectorals, detouring to one coin-sized areola and its tiny, hard peak. She tugged it between her teeth, flicking the tip.

  His hands dove into her hair, animal growls vibrating in his chest. It seemed his werewolf liked the attention, too.

  So did hers.

  Roxie moved further down his chest, exploring the muscled ridges of his stomach with sweeping fingers and eager tongue.

  Slipping between his legs, she grasped his shaft and caressed the hard length. Cupping his balls, she licked the velvety flesh of his manhood. Then she took his shaft into her mouth and sucked on the delectable thickness.

  “Roxie!” His thighs tensed.

  Her heart revved into overdrive. The musky scent of his sex excited her. She went down on him all the way, taking him all in—over and over, until her name was a prayer on his lips.

  She released his cock and sat up.

  He looked at her, his eyes wild, his expression pained.

  “Really?” he asked hoarsely.

  “Just a little revenge,” she said sweetly.

  Grant rolled her onto her back. “No more games, babe.”

  Roxie leaned up and nipped his bottom lip. “Take me.”

  He slid his arms under her shoulders, and she helped guide his swollen member once again between her thighs, nestling his cock at her entrance.

  Grant did exactly as she asked: He took her.

  His eyes were dark, gleaming. There was Grant’s wolf, just beneath the surface of his passion.

  Her husband, her lover, her protector.

  Grant buried his head against her neck, his movements quickening, his pants harsh, his thighs quivering. “Roxie. Babe. I’m coming!”

  As his cock jerked with his release, Roxie clutched him, her legs tight against his waist, and she followed him over the edge into endless bliss.

  After, they showered together then Grant got dressed, kissed her, and left the room.

  Roxie settled against the pillows, naked as she waited for Jack. She closed her eyes and stretched out on the bed—utterly relaxed and simply luxuriated in the soft sheets.

  WHEN SHE AWOKE from her unintended nap, she saw Jack stretched out next to her wearing nothing but black silk boxers. He lay against the fluffy pillow, obviously asleep, and snoring lightly. Roxie bit back a laugh. She trailed her fingers across his muscled pectorals.

  He woke up easily, his sleepy eyes taking her in. He reached up and pressed her hand against his chest.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi.”

  Roxie’s heart pounded erratically. Like Grant, Jack was Adonis personified—muscled, tanned, gorgeous. His blond hair shone in the dim light of the single bedside lamp and, to her wandering hands, those strands felt as soft and fine as corn silk.

  Jack cupped her face, offering a gentle kiss. She enjoyed his slow approach, his tenderness. He broke from the kiss. She noted his blue gaze was already dark with desire. He circled one of her areolas with a single fingertip, teasing her nipple with sweetly erotic touches.

  He cupped her breasts, his fingers sweeping across her sensitive skin until her nipples were hard aching points. His lips fastened onto one stiffened peak. He suckled, his tongue swirling in a languid motion designed for ultimate pleasurable torment.

  A low moan rose from her throat as desperate longing speared her.

  “Jack,” she whispered. “Jack.”

  He placed a kiss between her breasts. Then he looked at her, his hands trailing down her ribcage to stroke the round flesh of her stomach. He fanned out his fingers as he wandered over her hips, her thighs.

  He was slow, methodical, and tender.

  As Jack continued his unhurried seduction, Roxie returned the favor. She touched him, too, delighting in his firm arms, muscled chest, and taut abs.

  “Roxie,” he breathed. “So lovely. So intoxicating.”

  As her fingers clasped his hard cock, he rewarded her with a low moan.

  Her heart pounded. Her skin tingled. Her thighs trembled.

  Jack adjusted his position, and Roxie was forced to give up her hold. He nimbly rolled on
top of her and scooted between her legs.

  He kissed her quivering stomach muscles and traced an invisible line to her navel.

  Roxie felt submerged in desire. Her wet heat convulsed. She wanted him so much. She moaned, shifting to give him better access.

  Jack’s hands coasted to her hips, his mouth nibbling to the edge of her feminine core.

  His tongue wiggled down her slit, and his soft lips dragged sensually across her swelling flesh. He encircled her entrance, teasing her ruthlessly.

  She panted, desire curling through her like flames. She felt as though she was burning, burning for Jack.

  He grabbed her buttocks and pushed her legs up. His hot breath ghosted over her swollen flesh. Then he pressed his mouth against the sensitive knot hidden like a pearl in velvet.

  Roxie shuddered.

  His tongue began stroking her clit in a rhythm that drove her insane. Just as she felt the rise of an orgasm, Jack stopped.

  Argh! What the hell was it with these men and their torturous techniques? Did they have meetings? Exchange notes? Hey, yeah, let’s drive our new bride crazy!

  “Jack,” she said through gritted teeth.

  He chuckled. “I’m all about your pleasure, Roxie. I promise.”

  Jack rose to his knees. He slid one finger over her clit, and she growled. Her wolf was getting anxious—and needy.

  “Hold on to your ankles,” said Jack, pushing her legs up further.

  Hands shaking, body on fire, Roxie wrapped her hands around her ankles.

  As his finger slowly stroked her clitoris, he inserted two fingers inside her, and curled them upward.

  She sucked in deep breaths. The feeling was … intense. She couldn’t even think of a word to describe how it felt for him to touch such a sensitive area.