They knew she hated dancing, unless it involved the naked kind in their bedroom, not that this excursion was about boogying, despite their claims. See, while her boys did drink and jive a bit on the floor, she’d finally clued in on what these outings were really about. Since their return to her pack almost a year ago, they’d settled into an easy life, one that didn’t hold any of the problems or strife she’d expected from mating with two males lacking in strength. On the contrary, her pack loved Simon and Frank, because as Jana admitted, they mellowed Deena out. The expected need for her men to have to fight off adversaries never appeared, although they did get the occasional odd look when other packs heard of their threesome status, but her boys handled those situations with a taunting eloquence that never failed to make her laugh. But it also meant she didn’t often get a chance to smack someone around to defend their honor. A crying shame. Thus did their bar excursions seem to start, and what did you know, each time they went out, her men managed to insult the biggest, meanest prick—or two—in the joint.
