Bro and the Beast 4 (The Wolf's Mate, #4)

by L.C. Davis

But this is his den, and these strange fools are his pack. A pack he's clearly the alpha of, so I'm not going to challenge him openly in front of the others.

"You should know us better than that. We're bros, man, and bros accept each other no matter what. Even if they're getting boned by a gay werewolf."

"We have to follow her," Raul chimes in. "Does anyone have a private jet?" We all just stare at him. Sometimes, it's easy to forget he's a fantasy alpha male from a romance novel, and then other times, it smacks me in the face like a ten-inch cock.

The door opens with a hydraulic hiss, sunlight flooding the cabin. I squint against the glare, taking a deep breath of thick, humid air tinged with the scent of pine and damp earth.

I frown, seeing right through his bullshit. I know my brother, and I can tell when something's bothering him. Not that that's ever stopped him from putting up a front. It was always, "Brad, you can't stuff that guy into a locker because he talked shit about me," and "there are laws, Brad." Fucking goodie two shoes.