Wolves' Lair (A Werewolf MMF Bisexual Threesome)

The Wolves' Lair Copyright © 2015 Roxie Noir

All rights reserved.

This book is intended for audiences 18 and over only.

The cover model is just a model, not someone who endorses or even knows about this book.

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The Wolves' Lair

Roxie Noir

EXCERPT

“So,” said Heath, walking the few steps to where Lucy and Declan stood, still shirtless, bruises just beginning to purple on his side, “You come with a kiss for the winner?”

Lucy blushed again, hard, but Declan just chuckled.

“It was a close fight,” he said, and stepped up to Heath.

Then he kissed him hard, on the lips. One hand snaked around Heath’s head, crushing the other man against him.

Heath put his own arm around Declan, grabbing the other man by the hips and pulling him against himself, hard. Lucy could see the muscles in his arm knot with the force of it, and she felt an odd, heady sensation rush over her.

She could feel the flush creep over her face and then down her neck as she watched the two men kissing roughly, their mouths moving against each other. Flashes of teeth and tongue showed through their lips, Declan’s hand tight in Heath’s hair.

I really thought he was asking me for a kiss
, she thought.
 

She was disappointed, but there was also something else. She knew she should stop watching — she felt like she was intruding horribly — but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from two of the handsomest, sexiest men she’d ever seen kissing.

No. They were full-on
making out
.

The two men broke apart and Lucy rushed to look away, whirling around, her hand on the door, pretending that she’d been really, really interested in lockers the entire time.

“Where are you going?” asked Heath’s low, raspy voice.

Even though her hand was on the door, Lucy hesitated.

Maybe they won’t mind if I just watch
, she thought.

“I was leaving,” she said, turning her face partway toward him.

“I didn’t get my kiss yet,” he said, and she felt his hand on her upper arm.

She let herself be pulled toward him, turning to see his ropy, muscled frame still holding onto Declan’s waist with one hand, her arm with the other.

Then he pulled her in and leaned down, his mouth meeting hers firmly, his hand sliding from her arm to her waist, pulling her hard against both his and Declan’s bodies.

He was warm and dry, his lips surprisingly hard, and his tongue darted out to tease at her lips.

There was a very small part of Lucy that protested.
What are you doing?
It asked.
You’re alone in a locker room with two wolves. Anything could happen
.

Then she thought,
I hope it does
.

She parted her lips and Heath’s tongue rushed in, locking with hers. His hand in the small of her back pressed even harder, and she felt almost swept off of her feet as she was crushed against his naked chest.

He pulled back from her and looked like he was about to say something but Declan leaned in again, taking Heath’s head in his hands. As the two men kissed, half looking like they were fighting, Declan’s hand moved from Heath’s face, down his chest, and then over to Lucy’s back, pulling the girl to him.

When their lips parted, they leaned their foreheads together, chests gasping for air. Heath swallowed once, hard, then tugged up on Declan’s shirt, grabbing at the neck, pulling it way.

“Get that off,” he said gruffly.

Declan obeyed, tugging his t-shirt over his head in one smooth motion, revealing a sculpted chest and abs, nothing like anyone Lucy had ever seen in person before.

She didn’t have time to think about it, though, because Heath pulled her against him, her back against his front, his hands at her waist as he bent and began kissing and nibbling at her neck.

How’d he know my weak spot?
Lucy wondered, briefly, as she sighed out loud.

Now shirtless, Declan grabbed Heath by the belt loops and pulled the three of them together, Lucy in the middle of a man sandwich. She could definitely,
definitely
feel that both of them had erections, and she was surprised by how big they felt, even through the layer of denim that separated them.

Now someone’s hands — she no longer knew or cared whose — were on her breasts, touching them, rubbing his hands over her nipples, even through her shirt and bra. She let out another sound, this one a quiet little moan as she felt the heat inside her form an arrow pointing straight down, soaking her panties.

Her shirt came off, and then her bra quickly after that, two sets of big, strong hands teasing at her nipples and kneading the firm flesh of her breasts, even as she made out with Declan, then Heath, lost utterly to the moment, to the anticipation of being with two men at the same time.

The Wolves' Lair

Brienne leaned over the table, her long blond hair skimming the tabletop.

“He did things with his tongue you wouldn’t
believe
,” she said confidentially. “It was
amazing
.”

Lucy felt her cheeks start to redden. She took a sip of her latte, trying to pretend that she didn’t feel slightly awkward about hearing her best friend’s sexual escapades.

“I came three times before I lost count,” Brienne went on, her blue eyes sparkling. “I’m telling you, it was incredible. We fucked twice before I was just too exhausted to go on any longer. I could barely move, I came so hard.”

“That’s great,” Lucy mumbled, looking down at the table.

“Then, the next morning, we did it again,” Brienne said. She looked sly for a moment, watching Lucy turn red and fumble her words. “I even let him put it in my butt.”

Lucy’s eyebrows shot up, and she could feel the hot flush make its way down her neck, almost to her chest.

Dammit, dammit, dammit
, she thought.
Brienne is laughing and I’m red as a tomato
.

“Was that fun?” she asked.

“It was with him,” Brienne said. “To be honest, I was surprised it even fit, but once it was in, it was
incredible
.”

Lucy looked down at her nearly-finished latte, which seemed much less appealing now that her best friend was talking about butt sex.

“Have you heard from him since then?” she asked, trying to change the subject and salvage the rest of her coffee.

Brienne snorted. “Of course not,” she said, waving one hand. “It was just a one night stand. He was a
wolf
, I’m not going to date him or anything.”

Lucy eyed the other girl. Despite what she’d heard about the Lupines, Boise’s own werewolf pack, Brienne seemed to be in one piece. They hadn’t sacrificed her in some bizarre ritual to please their canine gods, and the wolf hadn’t torn her to pieces during the sex act.

In fact, it sounded like she’d had a great time.
 

Maybe all those rumors about the wolves
weren’t
true.

“You should head to that wolf bar next to the art store,” Brienne said. “I bet you could pick one up easy, start getting over Greg.”

Lucy snorted. “I don’t know,” she said. “We aren’t all as adventurous as you.”

“I’m not saying
date
one,” Brienne said. “God, no. Just a one night stand, have some fun, never hear from him again. That’s all they want from humans, anyway. They’ve got their women back at home doing all the breeding.”

There were a lot of rumors about the wolf pack, and Lucy knew that surely they weren’t all true. For instance, she was pretty sure that they didn’t just keep their women at home, out of sight, like medieval nuns or something. She saw them around town all the time. The breeding thing was probably just a rumor, she’d decided.

That didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous.

Just last year, four of the top wolves from the pack had been arrested for running guns and drugs between Salt Lake City and Canada. God only knew what other illegal activities they were into.
 

Best to just stay away, Lucy thought, keep on with her own boring life: half work, half school.
 

Definitely
never any sex with werewolves.

Two nights later, Lucy had a headache. It was one thirty in the morning, and the fluorescent lights at Dreck’s Art Supply were really getting to her. She’d pulled the short straw, metaphorically speaking, and this was her third night in a row of inventory, nearly alone in the store.

There was one more half-aisle to go, and then she could go home to her sweet, sweet bed, in her cozy little studio apartment.

She pushed her hair out of her eyes and kept on scanning, checking the items against her clipboard.
 

At least I didn’t have the paint aisle
, she thought. All those tiny tubes, different shades of blue and yellow and red, almost impossible to tell apart, especially when she’d been up since six the day before.

“Almost done!” came a voice from an aisle over. It was Stephan, the other person stuck doing inventory that night. Thankfully for Lucy, he’d volunteered to do the paint aisle. He claimed to find it meditative and soothing.

“I’ve got one more foot of shelf space,” Lucy said, still scanning and checking, scanning and checking.

“Well, hurry it up, slowpoke,” he said, his hair flopping over in front of his eyes, and he pushed it back with an exaggerated movement. “Want me to grab your stuff out of your locker and clock you out while I’m back there?”

“Thanks,” said Lucy.

She just finished as Stephan came back, carrying her coat and purse over his own shoulder.

“Perfect timing,” she said.

“This is nice,” said Stephan, handing her purse over. “Where’d you get the money for that? I know not from working here.”

“I’m an expert deal shopper,” she said, taking it proudly and putting it over her own shoulder. “Thrift store.”

Stephan nodded. “I gotta shop at those more,” he said. They walked through the glass sliding doors, and Stephan locked them behind him and Lucy.

“I parked on the street,” she said, looking both ways at the dark pavement, lit sporadically by streetlights. Her car was right underneath one, gleaming a dull green. “That lot creeps me out at night.”

“What, you’re leaving me to go alone?”

“I can walk with you,” she offered, but Stephan just laughed.

“I’ve got my mace,” he said. “I think I’ll be okay. But I’ll watch until you get to your car.”

“So you can run in and save the day?”

“I can scream real loud, believe me.”

Lucy laughed, said goodbye, and walked to her car. Sometimes she wished Stephan weren’t gay; even if he wasn’t really her physical type, he’d at least make a good boyfriend, she thought.

She reached her car and waved to him, watching him disappear around the corner. Down the block, a group of men in leather jackets were standing around a poorly-lit doorway, smoking. The unmarked door was the Mangy Mutt, a wolf bar. The one Brienne had thought Lucy should go to to pick up wolves, but honestly, Lucy was much too afraid of the thought.

Then, just as she reached for the handle of her car, someone grabbed her arm and spun her around.

She was face-to-face with someone much taller and bigger than her, his body pressed up against hers. He was terrible breath and fucked-up teeth, and he grinned at her.

Off to one side she could see the flash of a knife.

Lucy froze. She couldn’t even think, much less do anything.

“No, no, please, no,” was all she could get out.

“Don’t worry, little girl,” the man said. “I’m just looking for your cash.”

Her hand shaking, Lucy held up her purse, and he rummaged around in it with one hand, pulling out her wallet.

He opened it and took out five dollars.

“Where’s the real cash?” he asked, the knife still shining in her peripheral vision.

“What?”

“This is a nice purse,” he said. “Give me the real money.”

The men at the door of the bar burst into laughter, and Lucy started crying. She tried not to — she knew tears would probably only make it worse — but she couldn’t help herself.

“It’s from a thrift store,” she said. “I got a discount.”

Behind her, some of the men shouted something, and she could hear them walking toward her.

Please help me
, she thought.
Even if you’re wolves
.

The man holding her up rummaged through the rest of her purse, apparently not finding much that he wanted. He tossed it on the ground and held the knife against her ribcage.

“Cheer up,” the man said. “First you’re going to give me a kiss, and then we’re going to an ATM.”

He mashed his face against hers, and Lucy nearly gagged. His lips were dry and scaly, disgusting and rough against her mouth, and his breath smelled like he’d been eating rotten garlic all day. His tongue probed against her shut mouth, and she ground her teeth, determined not to let him in.

Behind her, two wolves walked down the sidewalk, not even looking at what appeared to be two drunk people making out. Lucy wanted to call for help, but she couldn’t risk it — that knife was right there, after all.