[Siren Ménage Everlasting: Erotic Paranormal Ménage a Quatre Romance, M/F/M/M, werewolves, HEA]
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.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Becca Van is a Siren-exclusive author.
There was no way she could stay now. “Thanks for your hospitality,” she whispered and pushed her chair back quickly.
She was in such a hurry to leave her feet got caught in the legs of her chair. Hands reached out to steady her, and she turned her head to thank them again without slowing down. She didn’t see the cart Angie had just wheeled up to the table until it was too late. She was moving so fast that momentum carried her forward.
Up and over she went. The glass on top of the cart cracked under her when she reached out, and as she toppled over, it flipped and landed on top of her. The weakened glass shattered. Rochelle threw up her arms to protect her face. A large shard of glass sliced into the underside of her forearm, going deep. White-hot burning pain seared into her soft skin, and she cried out.
Somewhere behind her, someone roared, “Fuck.” In moments, she was surrounded by large male bodies.
“Don’t touch her,” Blayk yelled from across the room. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed how fast he moved. One moment he was across the room, and the next he was at her side.
“Shit, baby. You’re a hazard to yourself,” Jarrod muttered.
Looking up at him she saw he was dressed in a sheriff’s uniform. His brothers Braxton and Malcolm were behind him, and they had on deputy uniforms. They looked so damn hot in their uniforms, and if she hadn’t been in pain, she may have drooled at the sight of them.
“We need to get her into my office. From the amount of blood pouring out, I think she’s nicked an artery,” Blayk stated calmly. “That glass has to stay in her arm until I can take a closer look. It could be all that’s stopping her from bleeding out. Don’t jostle her too much when you lift her.”
Rochelle whimpered as Jarrod carefully picked her up, but it wasn’t from pain. She hated the sight of blood, especially when it was her own. Closing her eyes, she gulped in air as she began to feel light-headed. When she opened them again, she was once more back on the exam table in Blayk’s infirmary. She wondered if she had passed out for a moment or two.
Blayk pulled over a large lamp with a magnifying glass attached. After inspecting the wound, which still had the large shard of glass protruding from it, he walked over to a cupboard, rummaged around, and came back with a tray full of silver sterilized tools as well as two hypodermic needles.
“I’m going to give you a local anesthetic so I can work without causing you pain. Okay?”
After swallowing loudly, Rochelle still couldn’t seem to find her voice, so she gave a nod. She hissed through her teeth as the sharp needle pierced her skin but kept still. She was such a wuss when it came to anything medical. Just the thought of going to the doctor could nearly make her swoon.
Turning her head away from the blood, she looked up to see Jarrod, Malcolm, and Braxton watching her with concern. Her face flamed red hot, and she knew it had probably changed color as well. She turned to look back at Blayk when he began to speak.
“Talia, honey, can you come and give me a hand?” Blayk hadn’t looked away from her arm.
Talia? Talia’s not here. As Rochelle was beginning to wonder how hard she’d banged her head last night, she heard the door open. Talia appeared at her side a moment later, saying, “Sure. What do you want me to do?”
How the hell did he know Talia was out there? Well, she did have a concussion. Maybe Blayk’s ears were working better than hers.
He said, “See those large tweezers on the tray?”
“I want you to use them and pull the glass from her wound. That way I can have her artery clamped off faster,” Blayk calmly explained. “Ready, honey?”
Rochelle wasn’t sure if Blayk was asking her or his wife but gave a nod just in case.
Talia tugged the glass from her arm, and she yelped, but not with pain. She looked down and saw red covering her arm from elbow to inner wrist. Rochelle knew she shouldn’t have looked but couldn’t seem to help herself. Nausea roiled in her stomach when she saw flesh in the opening of her cut skin. She felt her eyes roll, and weakness permeated her body. She could hear the three Friess brothers talking to her, but nothing they said seemed to be intelligible.
Jarrod sighed and rubbed his eyes. It had been a long, trying week. There was nothing for it but to wait for Harold James to expose himself as a criminal. And in the meantime to make sure Rochelle kept out of his way. Jarrod didn’t want his woman anywhere near the bastard.
A soft, feminine voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Jarrod turned to find Rochelle standing in the doorway to the kitchen. The warm light caught the highlights in her hair. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine.” When he turned back to the kitchen and approached, she backed up, out of his way.
Something in his chest twisted. Women always did that when he walked toward them. “Need something?” he asked.
She shook her head. Jarrod shut the door behind her and looked at her. If he were smart, he’d go for a run and get his wolf under control. But he wasn’t feeling smart. He wanted his mate, not to keep running away from her.
And she wanted him. He could smell her desire from where he stood. Jarrod suppressed a groan.
“Come here, baby,” he commanded.
“Nothing. Do as I say.”
She moved the last couple of steps and cricked her neck to look up at him.
He put his fingertips beneath her chin to keep her face where he could see it and where she couldn’t help but see him. “Are you scared of me?”
The indignant look on her face almost made him chuckle. His feisty woman wouldn’t stand for that suggestion.
“No,” she said. “Malcolm told me that you think that. But I’m not scared of you.”
Reaching out slowly, so as not to startle her, he gripped her waist and slowly lifted her until she was at eye level with him. She gasped and placed her hands on his shoulders for balance. He could feel the heat of her hands through the thin cotton knit of his shirt and craved her touch on the whole of his naked body.
“What…” she began to ask, but he ignored the question. Moving an arm, he placed it beneath her ass so she was supported by his forearm.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he demanded and was pleased when she again did as requested. Then with slow deliberation he lowered his head until scant millimeters separated their lips. Her moist breath washed over him, and he groaned when his mouth finally connected with hers.
One taste would never be enough. She tasted so sweet, and he wanted more of her delectable flavor. Slanting his mouth over hers, he pushed his way into her moist cavern. Tangling his tongue with hers, he groaned as her flavor exploded onto his taste buds.
Jarrod carried her over to the small, round timber table and slowly lowered her until her ass connected with the wood, still keeping their mouths connected. He withdrew his tongue and nipped her full bottom lip and then sucked the tender morsel into his mouth. Her whimper of need was music to his ears, and he shifted until their crotches were connected. His cock jerked, and he pushed his hips toward hers, rubbing his cock against her cloth-covered mound. He could feel the moist heat emanating from her pussy and knew he wouldn’t be able to stop until he got a taste of her delectable cream.
With practiced ease, he found the hem of her shirt and slid his hand beneath the fabric. Smoothing his way up over the warm, silky skin of her belly, he didn’t stop until he reached the underside of her breasts. He moved the last couple of inches until he cupped her delectable flesh in his palm. He used his thumb to strum her nipple through the lace of her bra as he moved his mouth to her throat.
Licking and kissing his way down her neck, he nipped the sensitive skin where her shoulder met with her neck, groaning in response to her mewl of pleasure. With dexterity he didn’t really feel at that moment, he flicked the front clasp of her bra and caught her breast in his hand as it spilled from the confines.
Moving back from her, he withdrew his hand from beneath her shirt and grabbed the hem. A scant second later, Rochelle was bared to him from the waist up. He perused her body as he inhaled her fruity scent and her musky arousal. She was a goddess. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks tinged a pink hue from her excitement. Her long golden-blonde hair spilled down her back to lie in waves over the wood of the table. Looking at her breasts nearly made him spend himself in his jeans. They were so full that the weight of them made them lie low against her ribs. They were tipped with very dark nipples. Jarrod never would have guessed she had such beautiful, large breasts hidden beneath her clothes.
“Open your eyes, baby. I want you to watch me.”
When her eyelids fluttered and finally opened, he pinned her with his heated gaze and moved closer.