Claimed By The Billionaire Alpha (Gay Werewolf Shifter Mates - An M/M Mpreg Billionaire Romance)

BOOK: Claimed By The Billionaire Alpha (Gay Werewolf Shifter Mates - An M/M Mpreg Billionaire Romance)
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Copyright   © 2015 by Jordan Moore

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

Ethan Locke is a recent M.B.A graduate in a bind. Running low on funds, he’s frantically applying for jobs on his crappy laptop every day. Then one fateful afternoon, Ethan has a chance meeting with a sexy stud by the name of Talen Romanov.

Talen is mind-blowingly handsome, tall muscular with a body built like Adonis. He also happens to head a multi-billion dollar investment firm—just the type of place Ethan has always dreamed of working at. So Ethan is more than thrilled when Talen offers him a job at his prestigious firm—perks included.

Then Devin Grimes prowls into Ethan’s life, and believe it or not, he’s every bit as handsome, rich and powerful as Talen.

Now Ethan has a serious dilemma he never thought he would be in his lifetime; two billionaires want him as their young lover.

One is honest and sincere, and the other has dark, sinister motives, but they are both hiding a very dangerous secret that could change Ethan’s life forever!

 

 

 

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Epilogue

Chapter 1

 

              Ethan blew his blonde hair out of his eyes as he clicked his wireless mouse. Sweat trickled down his neck and onto his muscled chest and then down his washboard abs.

It was scorching in his apartment, easily topping one-hundred degrees. That’s why he was sitting in only his boxers.

But with no job and a fast-shrinking nest egg, air conditioning was an amenity he could no longer afford.

So Ethan sat in his small apartment in darkness, making sure to only use electricity where he really needed it.  He sat with his laptop, sending  out a few job applications.

However, Ethan was aware that the odds were stacked against him.

Sure, he had an MBA from a prestigious univeristy, but so did a lot of other students, students who were not poor and whose family associates could get them in the door at the good firms out there.

A click here and a keystroke there, Ethan finished what felt like his hundredth application. This last one to a third rate import/export firm in a city in Maine.

Ethan doubted he would hear back from them, but at this rate, he'd be looking at making applications for H&R Block pretty damn soon. Growling with frustation, he closed the lid on his laptop, flopping back on the only piece of furniture in his apartment, a third-hand brown sofa that doubled as his bed. 

Closing his eyes, he muttered a quick prayer to whatever gods that were listening.

Regardless of his situation, Ethan decided he had to get out of his apartment for a while and get some fresh air.

He had been tirelessly sending applications out all day. And now, the sun was setting, the most beautiful time of the day in Ethan’s eyes.

Summer in New York City was far too hot and humid during the daytime, and at night it was dangerous, at least in Ethan’s neighborhood.

But there was magic for a few hours, usually between about six and eight at night, when the heat would fade, and the sky had a orange-red glow.

Rising from the couch, Ethan quickly shed his sweat-soaked boxers.

Giving them a quick sniff, he decided he needed to wash them even though he was going to go work out anyway.

There was a difference between fresh sweat and old sweat, and he didn't want to put up with a daylong stench.

After washing with cold water from his sink, Ethan pulled on a fresh set of briefs with jogging sweats to go along with a white wife-beater.

Locking his apartment door behind him, Ethan jogged his way down to the part of New York that he most enjoyed, Central Park.

He was conscious of the looks some of the women gave him as he ran by, ignoring them for the most part.

Ethan knew he was attractive, with smooth skin, muscle tone and long limbs that he had inherited from his father. 

He was a Long Island native. He had moved to New York when he was just a boy and had sandy blonde hair and sparkling green eyes.

The boys in his high school nicknamed him "blondie". Ethan ddin't too much care for it, but he tolerated it.

Whenever women were around, he turned heads. The thing was, he was gay.

Still, when people saw him, they saw a straight, handsome young man.

Ethan wasn't one to lie about his sexuality, but he often did little to correct the women’s assumptions when they came up to him, asking him out on dates. Mostly, he would politely decline and lie and say that he was in a relationship.

Crossing into Central Park, Ethan heard his name being called out by Jim, one of the hotdog vendors.

Jim was chubby and short, with an endless supply of amusing comments on just about anything. He was the type of guy that would strike up a conversation with anyone.

The old Irishman was an institution at the park ever since Ethan was a little boy. "Hey Ethan! What’s up, man?"

Ethan jogged over to Jim's hotdog stand, grinning the whole time. "I'm pretty good, Jimmy. How about you?"

"Crap, you know how it is during the summer. Everyone wants cold drinks or ice cream. My business isn't half of what it is in spring or fall. How's your job hunting coming along?"

Jim was one of those unique New York establishments where he knew everything about you, even if you had never told him directly.

Ethan shifted on his feet. "No luck so far. But something has got to give soon. I'm close to being broke.”

Jim clucked his tongue and gave Ethan an empathetic look.

"I don’t quite understand, Ethan," said Jim, reaching into his cart. "You're young, handsome and smart. Hell, I've seen you work more than any Hamptons boy would ever dream of. Besides," Jim added with a playful wink, "you’re so good looking that I know one of those broads in charge of interviewing applicants should hire you on looks alone!"

Ethan chuckled nervously. If only Jim knew the truth of Ethan’s sexuality. Still, what Jim was saying had merit. A lot of women fawned over Ethan’s looks, professional or not.

"Don't let any of the guys hear you tell me that I’m so handsome," said Ethan, "or else the North Side is going to need a new hotdog vendor."

"Speaking of which," Jim said, pulling out two hotdog dogs and laying on heavy ketchup and mustard and then sprinkling a couple of pickles, "here. Don't give me any objections, I've watched you lose ten pounds ever since you graduated. You are not eating enough, young man. Another ten and you'll be going from slender to scrawny and we can't have that my boy."

Ethan swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and graciously accepted the offered food on a paper plate.

The two dogs were the only real food he had eaten all day besides some soggy Ramon noodles for breakfast.

Ethan tried to avoid wolfing the dogs down, but within seconds found himself licking his plate clean. "Thanks, Jim. One day, I’m gonna pay you back for all the food you've so graciously given me over the years."

"Hey Ethan, before you leave, you should head over to the playground over on 110
th
street," said Jim, ignoring Ethan’s offer.

Ethan knew it wasn't that Jim was impolite; he just didn't care if Ethan paid him back or not, and didn't want to embarrass him any further. "There's a new guy in town. People say he’s a beast on the bars."

"So?" Ethan asked, glancing in the playground's direction. "What’s so special about that?”

Starting with pull up bars, the Gym Boys were a group of exercise fanatics. They only used the playground equipment for all of their workouts and every single one of them were in insane shape. They had a YouTube channel that was extremely popular at one time.

Still, Ethan liked to think he could put the Gym Boys to shame if he felt like flexing his ego,

"Two things. First, I'll just say that he's a little upper class for 110th Street. Second, he's putting the Gym Boys to shame, from what I've heard. You know that's no easy feat."

That grabbed Ethan's attention. Like any other neighborhood of New York, Central Park was mostly segregated. The 110th Street playground was one of those areas. He'd never heard of anyone outperforming the Gym Boys.

"Okay, I'll check it out," promised Ethan, "Besides, I need to practice my strength training. Might as well go see what all the fuss is about.”

Jim laughed, waving as Ethan walked off. "You take care, Ethan. And don't worry, I know your luck is going to change soon and they’ll be knocking down your door for an interview!"

"Right. Cya, Jim," waved Ethan.

Ethan started a slow jog as he came up on the playground.  As soon as it was in sight, he could see a group of people were gathered around the jungle gym. The Gym Boys did sometimes attract a crowd, but the group today was a little larger than normal, there was probably a few dozen people out there.

"Dude, you must be crazy!" he heard one of the Gym Boys say, as he made his way towards the front of the crowd. "No one, and I mean no one in the whole damn city, can beat Tommy in one arm pull-ups!"

Ethan made his way through a small gap in the crowd and shouldered a few people out of the way until he could get a clear view of the action.

He went slack jawed when he saw what the commotion was about.

In the middle of the crowd was the new guy, standing at about six-foot-five, built like a Greek God.

His torso rippled with muscle, and though Ethan was ripped himself, this guy put him to shame.

The newcomer’s face was even more striking than his hot body. 

He possessed a chiseled jawline, which framed a noble face that was highlighted by a proud nose and deep blue eyes.

His hazelnut auburn hair was just a little longer than usual and was damp with sweat.

Ethan thought the man looked like he should have belonged in a Men’s modeling magazine rather than on a playground.

The Gym Boys were currently laughing and joking around with the stranger. But their taunts and jibes bespoke of brotherhood rather than jealousy.

The speaker was one of the older Gym Boys named Jeff. "I am telling you dude; there is no way a guy your size can beat Tommy in one arm pull-ups! You're what, fifty-sixty pounds heavier?"

The sexy newcomer’s handsome face broke into a confident grin and he crossed his arms over his powerful chest. "I have an idea. Let's make a deal. You want to bet?" His voice was deep and noble sounding. The kind of voice that Ethan found sexy.

The surrounding group hooted in derision at the handsome guy’s boldness.

Ethan didn't make a sound, however. He was too enthralled by the assurance in the man's demeanor and the self-assured sparkle in his blue eyes.              

Finally, Tommy stepped forward, pulling a wad of bills out of his pocket. "All right dude, it's your money. I've got two hundred dollars here. You still game?"

"Of course," replied the stranger, reaching into his sports bag to pull out a large stack of bills that dwarfed Tommy’s. "But we need a neutral party to hold the money until the contest is over."

Tommy nodded, his eyes roving around the assembled group until they landed on Ethan. "How about Ethan? He's from the neighborhood, but he's smart too. Just got his MBA or something. You down with that, Ethan?"

“Sure,”Ethan replied.

Tommy took the money from the stranger and handed Ethan a big wad of bills.

Ethan’s fingers itched as he held the stack of money. He hadn't had that much free cash in his hand in almost a year.

The stranger turned his piercing blue eyes on Ethan and he felt like he was peering into his soul. "You have your MBA?" he asked him.

Ethan felt like everything else in the world faded except for the handsome man's eyes and chiseled face.

Ethan’s cheeks burned and he hoped it didn’t show to all the surrounding men. "Yeah," he replied, rolling the cash in his hand and gripping it tightly. "I graduated from NYU this June."

"That’s cool. You employed yet?"

"No," Ethan started, before the crowd began muttering amongst themselves. The Gym Boys wanted to see the pull-ups, not listen to job conversation.

"Alright guys, here's the rules," Jeff said. "You can choose any bar as long as your feet do not touch the ground. Once you start, you can't switch arms. Each of you will have someone to count for you and will make sure you go all the way up. Whoever can do the most pull-ups before you drop off the bar, wins."

"Cool," said Tommy, his grin wide. "Good luck, new dude."

"You too," the stranger replied, offering to shake Tommy's hand.

The two shook and went to their side of the jungle gym, selecting their bars.

The contest began, and Tommy sprang out of the blocks, his muscular right arm doing pull-up after pull-up to the boisterous cheers of the crowd.

On the other side, the tall stranger hung there silently, watching with calm eyes as Tommy worked as hard as he could before his strength gave out.

Finally, with a painful grunt, Tommy dropped off the bar, twenty-four reps completed. "Yeah! All hail the King, baby!" Tommy yelled, grinning at his opponent, who hadn't even began. "What the hell?"

"I don't know; this dude hasn't moved, he's just been hanging there" the stranger's counter said as all eyes turned towards the handsome man.

Then, with a wolfish grin, the stranger started to pull. Ethan couldn't believe he could do it at all. He had already been hanging there for almost a minute already, and his fingers must have been exhausted.

But with confident pulls, he did rep after rep, counting the reps as he went.

"Six."

The jeers of the crowd hushed. His arm flexed, his muscles bulging and straining.

"Ten."

The entire crowd was silent. Ethan could see the look in some of the Gym Boys’ eyes. They couldn't believe what the man was doing.

Veins were starting to burst out on the man's arm, beginning in his bicep before spreading to his forearm, shoulder, and then his neck.

"Twenty," the man grunted.

The crowd began to root for him. He was a newcomer, but most of the guys around here enjoyed a good physical show, so they didn't care.

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