Jealous Freakn’

Epilogue

Francine and her mates moved into a four bedroom home on a ravine lot nestled in a new subdivision on the outskirts of town that shifters were snatching up due to its prime location next to some protected woodlands.

Domestic life agreed with Francine, especially now that her men had finally learned to share. Although not without the occasional tussle that she ended with a softly spoken, “I’ll masturbate tonight if you don’t behave.” Talk about instant attitude adjustment.

And Naomi was so right about the two-man thing. Two is so much more convenient than one. Take now, for instance. Both her men panted, the sweat glistening off their bare chests as they took turns pleasing her.

“That’s it, Mitchell,” she crooned. “A little harder. Swirl it. Ooh, yes, almost there, push it now.”

“You’re going to kill me, Red,” he groaned. “Isn’t it the cat’s turn?”

Alejandro laughed. “Not yet. Come on, you mangy dog, give the woman what she wants. Put your back into it and dig.”

With a mighty groan, Mitchell heaved the trunk out of the ground and stumbled back with it.

“You did it,” Francine squealed, clapping her hands. And about time too. She’d had them working to get that stump out of the ground for over an hour now, taking turns working at it.

“Glad to serve,” huffed Mitchell, sitting down hard on the grass.

“Beer?” Alejandro offered as he stood.

“Not yet, Jag,” she said wagging a finger. “You still need to fill that hole. And when you’re done, I know another hole that needs filling, after you both shower, of course.” She wrinkled her nose, then squealed, as her men, suddenly in cahoots, came after her, wrapping her in a sweaty body hug that would have been more enjoyable if it were erotically induced and naked.

Pleased with themselves, they wandered off to the pile of dirt, and together, filled the wheelbarrow up and wheeled it over to the hole to backfill it. It made her heart swell to see the two of them getting along, even if oftentimes their cooperation involved harassing her. And she absolutely loved it when they tag teamed her in the bedroom.

Lucky her, she now had two men she could count on, and while it started out with one of them jealous and freakn’, it turned into a whole lot of love-and sex. Lots of yummy, toe-tingling sex. I am so freakn’ lucky.

Up the street…

Chris, Naomi’s brother, parked at the curb and swung out of his truck. He ambled his way to the back of his work vehicle and pulled the squealing tailgate down so he could heft his toolbox out. Called out on a service call, he tried not to sigh, thinking of the lacrosse game he’d probably miss out on tonight because of this last minute job. What’s the point of having brothers-in-law who give me free tickets if I can’t use them?

Maybe he’d get done quicker than expected. After all, the neighborhood was brand spanking new. How much work could there be?

Knocking on the door, he bounced on the balls of his feet, surveying the neighborhood still under construction. He remembered it from Francine’s house warming party a few weeks back. God, the fun he had bugging the hell out of Mitchell when on the tour of the house, he caught sight of the king-size bed. The broken nose was well worth the ruddy-cheeked embarrassment on his big brother’s face, though.

What bad luck, though, Mitchell had to share his woman. Not that Chris disliked Jag. On the contrary, he found Javier’s brother highly entertaining, especially since he also excelled at driving Mitchell nuts. But still, while the threesome thing sounded kind of kinky, Chris wasn’t the type to want to share, especially not his mate and for life. No way, not him. Besides, with two polyamorous pairings in the family, chances were good they’d hit their quota and hopefully, fate would hold off a few years before introducing him to his lucky lady wolf. He still had quite a few oats he wanted to sow.

The clicking of tumblers as locks disengaged told him someone finally answered the door. He didn’t immediately turn, not wanting to appear too eager beaver or in their face.

The smell hit him first. Flowers of some sort with a hint of animal, something exotic that he’d never scented before, mixed in with the musk of a woman. Toe-curling, cock-hardening woman.

Whirling, Chris gaped at the petite female in the doorway. His mate. Or so his yipping wolf seemed to think. Not even reaching his chin, she appeared of Asian background, with dark, slanted eyes, high cheekbones, black hair twined atop her head in bun, and rosebud lips that rounded into an ‘O’ of surprise.

“Who are you?” he asked, inhaling her scent, and fighting an urge to gather her in his arms and taste her mouth.

“Taken,” growled a male sporting the same Asian complexion as he came up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder possessively.

Ah, freakn’ hell. This would make things complicated.