Armadillo packin, p.1

ArMaDillo Packin', page 1

 

ArMaDillo Packin'
Select Voice:
Brian (uk)
Emma (uk)  
Amy (uk)
Eric (us)
Ivy (us)
Joey (us)
Salli (us)  
Justin (us)
Jennifer (us)  
Kimberly (us)  
Kendra (us)
Russell (au)
Nicole (au)


1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  


ArMaDillo Packin'


  On the Road: On his first ride cross-country, a young moose shifter stumbles upon a mate that he’s not ready for.

  Ronald Oleander, Ronnie to his friends, has been looking forward to this road trip for months, ever since he’d aced the test for his motorcycle license. With the wind on his face, he follows Noah and Adam—his older brother and his brother’s mate—through winding back roads. Their destination is a small town in Wisconsin where they’re meeting up with Adam’s old biker gang. Ronnie has been warned the place is homophobic and never to go anywhere alone. Except, when he arrives, the first thing he notices is an enticing smell. Ronnie wanders around the back of the diner to investigate and finds a pair of humans pounding on a smaller guy. Breaking up the fight, he sends the jerks packing. When he focuses on the beaten man, he discovers he’s the source of the smell—and is also not only a shifter, but his mate—Hector Ramirez, an armadillo shifter. At barely twenty-one, Ronnie didn’t expect to find the other half of his soul so soon, and he doesn’t feel ready. Still, he can’t deny his instincts. For better or worse, can Ronnie accept not only a mate but figure out a way to stop the people after him?

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ArMaDillo Packin’

  Copyright © 2020 Charlie Richards

  ISBN: 978-1-4874-2895-2

  Cover art by Angela Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

  Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

  Look for us online at:

  www.eXtasybooks.com or www.devinedestinies.com

  Smashwords Edition

  ArMaDillo Packin’

  Kontra’s Menagerie: Book Twenty-Eight

  By

  Charlie Richards

  Dedication

  Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.

  ~Lao Tzu

  Chapter One

  “How’s she handlin’?”

  Ronald Oleander—Ronnie to his friends—smirked as he flicked his gaze to Adam Kingston’s broad back where he drove his Harley a few feet in front of him. The white tiger shifter had asked that very question three times so far—twice the previous day and now just then. He knew the man was worried about him, as this was Ronnie’s first road trip with him, but come on!

  “Just like I told you yesterday,” Ronnie replied, doing his best to keep his exasperation out of his voice. “She’s handlin’ like a dream. After all, you fitted her to my body type.”

  It was true, too.

  Ronnie had met Adam almost eight years before when he’d been thirteen years old. He’d been a scrawny, gangly teen, who’d only learned how to shift into his moose form the prior year. His sister, Heather, had been seventeen. They’d been on the run, and Adam had saved them from wolf shifters.

  When his older brother, Noah, had caught up with them, they’d discovered Adam was his brother’s mate. At the time, Adam had been part of a shifter biker gang. The group had taken them in, cared for them, and fixed the mess that had been caused by the son of their herd’s alpha.

  Of course, there was more to it than that, but the gist was that Adam and his people had saved them.

  “Just makin’ sure nothin’ has changed since then,” Adam replied through the speaker in Ronnie’s helmet, reminding him to focus on the road.

  A drifting mind of a motorcycle rider could be a dangerous thing.

  “I know,” Ronnie confirmed, smiling as he enjoyed the wind on his face. “If anything feels even slightly off, you know I’ll say something.”

  “Good.” Adam turned his head and peered at Noah, who was driving an equally lovely Kingpin next to him. “What about yours, babe?”

  Noah looked Adam’s way, allowing Ronnie to see his grin. “Perfect as always.”

  Adam’s grunt came through the speaker.

  Ronnie sighed happily, relishing the rumble of the Harley Electra Glide Ultra between his thighs. The bike had been bigger than what his brother had expected him to pick for his first motorcycle, but over the last few years, he’d grown like a weed and bulked up. He knew it had everything to do with his moose shifter genetics. At twenty-one years old, Ronnie found himself standing at six-foot-three, and neither Noah nor Adam could say if he had stopped growing, yet.

  He’d needed something he could keep even if he added another couple of inches.

  “Are you comfortable on these windy roads, Ronnie?” Noah asked, glancing over his shoulder at him. “We’re not going too fast, are we?”

  Ronnie rolled his eyes even as he grinned. “I’m good, bro. Don’t worry. I got this.”

  “It’s just, it’s your first time out on a road trip with us,” Noah continued, expressing his concern. “So if you need to stop and rest, let us know.”

  “Relax, babe,” Adam rumbled, glancing his mate’s way. “He’s fine. He can handle her.”

  Ronnie warmed at the praise. “Thanks, Adam.”

  Noah chuckled. “Naw, babe. Ronnie wouldn’t ever be able to handle a her.”

  Adam’s deep laughter sounded even over the roar of the engines. “True dat.”

  Shaking his head, Ronnie joined in the laughter. They were right, after all. When he’d only been thirteen, he’d been confused about his feelings. While the other boys in their herd had been beginning to notice girls, Ronnie hadn’t been.

  It all became crystal clear when Adam had introduced him to his alpha—Kontra Belikov. The grizzly shifter had been huge with silver-flecked hair and an imposing bearing. Instead of being afraid of the man, he’d found himself enamored with him. While the gang had been in town, Ronnie had followed Kontra around like a puppy dog.

  Looking back on that, Ronnie felt a bit of embarrassment. The bear shifter hadn’t minded, even though he’d probably scented his arousal a time or two. Of course, the man wasn’t interested in him as more than a mentor. Plus, well, Ronnie had been only thirteen at the time, so even if he hadn’t had a mate, no way would Kontra have touched him.

  “Oh, hey,” Adam exclaimed, glancing over his shoulder at him. “Did you tell that human guy you were hookin’ up with that you were goin’ out of town?”

  Ronnie felt his cheeks heat as Noah barked, “What? What human guy?”

  “Uh—” Ronnie could see Adam’s back muscles tighten, even under his leather jacket.

  “It was nothin’,” Ronnie quickly stated, doing his best to smooth it over. “Just a human guy I was studying the motorcycle test with. And, yeah. I told him I was headed out with you all.”

  With the way they were roaring down the road on motorcycles, Ronnie mentally crossed his fingers that his brother wouldn’t be able to scent the little fib.

  “Good,” Noah grumbled. “The thought of you doing anything with anyone is—” He stopped and shook his head.

  Ronnie spotted Adam eyeballing him in his side mirror, so he shrugged.

  Adam refocused on the road.

  As a young horny shifter, Ronnie wanted to get his rocks off as much as the next man. Unfortunately, after his sister, Heather, had bonded with the alpha of their herd, no one would touch the alpha-mate’s younger brother. He’d turned his attention to humans.

  Ronnie had always been discreet with his hook-ups. He would find a like-minded guy in the next town over, and they would have a little fun. He made certain he never saw a guy more than a couple of times, since he didn’t want to lead anyone on.

  Being a shifter, Ronnie knew he had a fated mate out there somewhere. Plus, he was young. No way was he ready to settle down.

  One day the prior spring, Ronnie had been running late for his shift at the garage where he worked with Adam. He’d thought the soapy wipe-down would be enough. It hadn’t been.

  When Ronnie walked into the garage, Adam had just closed the office door where he knew Noah was doing paperwork. The cat shifter had grabbed his arm, stopping his forward momentum. He’d not-so-discreetly sniffed.

  Ronnie had felt his face go up in flames.

  Fortunately, Adam had chuckled and warned, “Shower next time.” He’d patted him on his back as he moved around him. Just when Ronnie had thought that would be it, Adam had turned to face him, walking backward. “And even if it’s a guy, make sure to use a condom. Don’t want any suspicions, yeah?”

  Nodding on instinct, Ronnie had begun to follow him. After all, he needed to get to work.

  Adam had spun around, then asked over his shoulder, “You need me to pick up rubbers or lube for ya?” Then he paused and pivoted, staring at him with his eyebrows furrowed. “I guess I just assumed.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Adam lowered his voice. “You have had the discussion about safe sex, right? Proper prep and all that?”

  Ronnie hadn’t thought his face could get any hotter... but it had.

  “Yeah,” Ronnie had muttered. “I’m good.”

  After a quick nod, Adam had muttered, “Well, you know where I am if you ever need anything.” Then the shifter had gotten to work.

  They’d never spoken of it again, which was just fine by Ronnie.

  The fact that Adam had remembered that he might be leaving someone behind was sort of... nice.

  They drove for another three days, enjoying the sights and taking detours when they wanted to check something out. At night, they camped and let their animals stretch their legs. Sometimes they stopped and hiked.

  Ronnie could imagine himself living this sort of life for decades, and he realized the sacrifice Adam had made for all of them when he’d stayed put for Noah’s sake, since he’d been raising him and Heather when they’d met.

  All that could change, though. They were to meet up with Adam’s old gang that afternoon. Adam had explained that he’d turned his garage over to a fellow moose shifter, and if all went well during Adam’s two-month hiatus, the guy would buy the garage, leaving them all free to travel for however long they wanted.

  Ronnie was keeping his fingers crossed.

  “Now remember,” Noah warned, and not for the first time. “This town is full of homophobes, so don’t go anywhere alone.”

  “Got it,” Ronnie replied, as he always did. He knew his brother worried. After all, he was more father than brother after all these years. Their parents had died when he was three, and he didn’t remember them much. “Where are we meeting them?”

  “A place called Mindy Lu’s Diner, right on Main Street,” Adam told him. “She’s a homo-hating bitch, so we won’t be eating there. The food probably wouldn’t be safe.” Glancing at him and Noah, Adam added, “We just like to give ‘em shit.”

  Ronnie laughed.

  That is so Adam.

  After another few minutes, houses began appearing steadily on either side of the winding road. Side roads disappeared amidst the trees. A Welcome to Rusty Cave sign appeared ahead.

  “Is there actually a cave around here?” Ronnie asked curiously.

  “There is,” Adam replied. “And a cave tour. You interested?”

  “Hell yeah,” Ronnie responded, excitement coursing through him. “That’d be so cool!”

  “Language,” Noah commented absently.

  Adam laughed, and Ronnie snorted.

  Noah sighed. “Sorry.”

  Ronnie grinned. “Naw, bro. It’s nice.” It was, too. “It means you care.”

  Glancing over at him, Noah cast a warm, loving smile his way.

  I really do have the best brother.

  Spotting the diner that they were supposed to meet the others at, Ronnie followed, pulling into the parking lot. He didn’t see any other motorcycles. Easing into a spot next to where Adam and Noah were parking, Ronnie rested his bike on the kickstand.

  When Adam turned off his bike, Noah and Ronnie followed suit.

  “I’ll call Yuma,” Adam told them, pulling off his helmet before grabbing his phone.

  Ronnie knew Adam was referring to his good friend and fellow biker, penguin shifter Yuma Belikov.

  Taking advantage of the pause, Ronnie removed his own helmet as he swung his leg over his bike. He rested the strap over his handlebar, then scrubbed his fingers through his shaggy hair. Sighing, he enjoyed the scalp massage.

  At the same time, Ronnie began walking around his bike, stretching his legs. He made a couple of laps before pausing on the sidewalk. He twisted one way, then another.

  Who would have thought that hours on a motorcycle would cause such muscle strain?

  No wonder Noah warned me to let them know if I needed to rest. I probably overdid it a little.

  Ronnie stretched his arms over his head, flexing his thick biceps as he inhaled deeply. A sweetly musky scent filled his nostrils, making him freeze. It smelled faint but was oh-so-delicious.

  Lowering his arms, Ronnie tipped his head back and took another deep breath. His mouth watered, and he hoped it wasn’t coming from the diner, since they didn’t plan to eat there. Except, the breeze was coming from behind him.

  After a quick glance at Noah, who was standing in the cradle of Adam’s arms—who was on the phone while petting his brother’s chest absently—Ronnie headed in the direction of the intriguing smell.

  Ronnie stopped at the edge of the building and inhaled again. The odor had grown stronger, and he felt his blood flow south. His dick plumped, and his pulse sped up.

  Huh. Weird.

  Hearing the sound of thuds distracted Ronnie from his odd reaction. He cocked his head as he peered along the alley between buildings. Two men stood over something on the ground, partially hidden by the diner’s dumpster.

  As Ronnie watched, the nearer guy moved his leg back and kicked at what was on the ground.

  Wait. That’s a who. What the fuck?

  Growling low in his throat, Ronnie felt his moose stir. His animal had turned out damn dominant, so it had been good that he was leaving his herd. He had no desire to challenge his sister’s mate.

  With his bull bellowing in the back of his mind, Ronnie was in complete agreement. He strode swiftly toward the men, cracking his knuckles as he went.

  “Hey!” Ronnie bellowed, anger filling his voice. “What the hell is goin’ on?”

  The pair snapped their attention to him.

  Ronnie could guess at what they saw—a six-foot-three, muscle-bound alpha male—and they would be right. Except, with his biker leathers and closely shorn beard, he looked far older than his twenty-one years. Ronnie had also been told by more than one trick that he would never have been pegged as gay.

  The front one lifted his hands in placation. “This don’t concern you, man.” His lips curled as he cast a hate-filled glance at whoever was on the ground. “This is just a little homo faggot. You know they deserve what they get when they flaunt their deviance.”

  “Oh, that was definitely the wrong thing to say,” Ronnie snarled.

  Human or not, Ronnie was going to take a piece of him.

  Chapter Two

  Hector Ramirez lay curled on the ground, doing his best to protect his head with his arms. The sucker punch from the big blond had sent him careening into the dumpster. He’d bounced off it only to accept a roundhouse to his jaw, and he’d gone down.

  It was only because he was a shifter that it hadn’t broken.

  As much as Hector hated taking a beating, he didn’t really want to shoot the homo-hating bastards. For some reason, in this day and age, the one doing the shooting always ended up being on the wrong side of the law. It was nuts.

  For that reason alone, Hector kept his small Bodyguard .380 in his ankle holster instead of drawing it and waving it around. He didn’t know if the men would make a play for it, if they knew it was there.

  Better to keep it hidden.

  Hearing the shout of a third deep voice, Hector tensed. The beating stopped for a second.

  Do they have another buddy coming to join them?

  Hearing one of his attackers call him a homo faggot that deserved what he got for flaunting his deviant ways, Hector realized they didn’t know the stranger.

  Hector chanced a glance up from between his arms... and just about swallowed his tongue even as a fresh wave of fear crashed over him. The man swiftly approaching was big and broad and wore large black biker boots and leather chaps over dark-blue jeans. His black leather jacket fitted his torso, showcasing wide shoulders. His dark-brown hair hung in messy waves around his beard-covered jaw.

  Man in black. So damn sexy.

  His eyes, however, drew Hector’s attention. They held a thunderous gleam in their dark, dark-brown depths. The anger there seemed almost a physical thing.

  Is he going to join them in the beating? I may have to pull my gun after all.

  “Oh, that was definitely the wrong thing to say,” the stranger stated, his hands clenched into fists.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
Add Fast Bookmark
Load Fast Bookmark
Turn Navi On
Turn Navi On
Turn Navi On
Scroll Up
Turn Navi On
Scroll
Turn Navi On
183