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Claimed By His Clan
(Steamy Werebear Menage FMMM Paranormal Romance)
Meghan Archer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All participants in these fictitious events are consenting, non-related adults over the age of eighteen.
Kindle Edition
Copyright 2015 True Desire Publishing
All rights reserved.
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Claimed By His Clan
(Steamy Werebear Menage FMMM Romance)
It was late, yet The Drunken Druid bar was still packed and the air was sweet with the perfumes of the dozens of women huddled together at tables or fishing for free drinks at the bar. Gemma watched them, studying their positions. They had no shortage of targets to choose from; the men outnumbered the women two-to-one here, and the bar was quickly turning into something of a meat market. Thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about any of that.
She turned to the man on the other side of the pool table from her, noting the glint in his dark, coppery eyes and the smirk on his face. His name was Nicholas Brenner and they’d only just met a few hours ago, but already they were knee-deep in competition. It was Gemma’s nature. She was a wild young thing who hated to lose, and that meant that when she received a challenge, even from a stranger, she just couldn’t say no.
Especially when the stranger looked like Nicholas did.
The auburn-haired beauty leaned across the table, cue in hand, her lovely green eyes narrowed into slits as she stared down the shiny white ball only an inch away. Out of her peripheral vision, she caught Nicholas lowering his eyes to her breasts. They were practically spilling out of the neckline of her top, and every time she lined up her shot, they brushed against the green felt and brought her nipples to attention.
Advantage, me, she thought, biting her lip to hide her own smirk as it threatened to give her away.
As she accidentally bumped one with her hip, Gemma’s eyes flicked over to the row of empty beer bottles at her side. Maybe she shouldn’t have so much to drink. She wasn’t exactly a lightweight, but when she got tipsy, she got handsy too. By the end of the night, it was very likely that the pool table wasn’t the only thing that she would be rubbing her tits on.
But he didn’t need to know that. Not just yet. And fucking a handsome stranger would prove all the more satisfying if she could lord the victory over him for a little while beforehand.
She peered at Nicholas over her stick and flashed him a bright smile beneath the soft smattering of freckles across her cheeks. Then she struck the cue ball, sending it hurtling into the last ball on the table and knocking it into the corner pocket.
“That’s game,” she said proudly as she straightened. She wobbled briefly, then grinned at Nicholas. “Looks like we’re tied.”
“Looks like it,” he said, chalking his cue stick. “Wanna go for the tie-breaker?”
“Works for me,” Gemma replied, sipping from her current bottle of beer. “But this is the last ga
me, all right? I wanna head home soon.”
She could practically see the words in his hungry gaze: Me too, he wanted to say. He wore his desire on his sleeve and kept staring at her cleavage, which had drawn the attention of practically the entire bar throughout the evening. Everyone seemed to be waiting for her milk-white tits to overflow from the cups of her scarlet lace bra, the edges of which were clearly visible whenever she bent over.
Gemma kind of liked the attention she drew. She liked being the hottest chick at the bar, and she liked that everybody knew it, too.
“Wanna make a friendly wager?” Nicholas asked her, taking a sip of his own beer.
Gemma gave him a sideways glance rife with feigned suspicion. “What do you have in mind?”
