Punished by Husband, Forced by Biker Daddies
My brain tried to process the words, failed spectacularly and short-circuited.
“You’re telling me,” I said slowly, “that I, Betty, the clueless human who didn’t know her husband was a werewolf, am somehow the fated soulmate to not one, not two but three giant, furry, motorcycle-riding beefcakes? And one of them fucking hates me?”
“Blaze doesn’t hate you,” Colt said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “He’s just… possessive. He doesn’t like sharing. The idea that his mate is also ours… it pisses him off. A lot.”
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