Bubbles

by Candace Blevins

  The war will be made up of opening skirmishes and then a final, all-out battle. You’ve seen bits and pieces of the leadup throughout the RTMC series, and Bubbles’ book showed us how the date of the first big skirmish is settled upon.

  If you’re interested in seeing the overall battle and how it plays out, I hope you’ll check out the Only Human series.

  Also, Dawg gets lots of page-time in this series, and much of it is between the sheets — and on top of them, and places where there aren’t any sheets at all.

  Stay up to date on Candace’s new releases by signing up for her newsletter.

  * * *

  Do you want to know more about the other bikers in this world? Keep reading for an excerpt from Razor and Matty’s story!

  Bibliography

  If you enjoyed Bubbles’ story, you may also like other books set in the same universe, though in different series.

  * * *

  Chattanooga Supernaturals series, paranormal romance:

  The Dragon King (Aaron Drake’s story, and the first time we meet Duke and Brain)

  Riding the Storm (Kendra and Eric’s story)

  Acceptable Risk (Bethany, Ranger, Mac, and Jonathan’s story)

  Careful What You Ask For

  Hallowed Destiny – Forged by Darkness

  Uncaged (Ghost’s mother’s story)

  Cocky Queen

  * * *

  Only Human series, urban fantasy

  Only Human

  An Unhuman Journey

  Of Humans and Monsters

  Defining Human

  Edge of Humanity

  * * *

  Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club Series

  Duke

  Brain

  Bash Volume I

  Bash Volume II

  Bash Volume III

  Horse

  Gonzo (where we first meet Britches/Briana)

  Nix

  Ghost

  Bud

  Razor

  * * *

  The Dark Underbelly of The Chattanooga Supernaturals

  Pride (A short story featuring The Lion King)

  Indentured Freedom: Owned by the Vampire (Gavin)

  Leashed (Abbott)

  An Elegant Weapon (Bran)

  * * *

  A Dark(ish) Faerie Tale

  Slave

  Lady

  Consort

  Queen

  * * *

  The Safeword series, intense BDSM contemporary romance

  Safeword Rainbow

  Safeword: Davenport

  Safewords: Davenport and Chiffon

  Safeword: Quinacridone

  Safeword: Matte (Sam and Ethan Levi’s story, we first meet Frisco and Cassie)

  Safeword: Matte – In Training

  No Safeword: Matte – The Honeymoon

  No Safeword: Matte – Happily Ever After

  Safeword: Arabesque (Frisco, Cassie, Abbot, and Cam’s story)

  Safeword: Mayday (TBA)

  * * *

  Check out other books by Candace Blevins at candaceblevins.com.

  * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Razor and Matty’s story!

  Razor

  * * *

  Razor moved from the Memphis RTMC chapter to Chattanooga to set up and manage a series of laundromats, because the local chapter needs more ways to legitimize their illegal income. He’s gay, but the Chattanooga chapter has accepted gay couples into their social circle, so he hopes they can accept him.

  * * *

  Matty is about to graduate college, and he’s in the market for a Daddy. He walks into the RTMC bar with three of his girlfriends, and a huge hulk of a man rescues him from some rednecks. He recognizes the bouncer for the leather daddy he is, and sparks fly between them.

  * * *

  Most of the MC is prepared to accept Razor as a gay brother, but they know they’ll have to figure things out as they happen once Razor is serious about someone. Will his ‘boy’ be an ol’lady? And can all the ol’lady rules really apply to a man?

  * * *

  Razor is a raven, Matty is human. The RTMC fits into the local supernatural hierarchy in a myriad of ways, and Razor is already friends with Abbott and Spence.

  * * *

  But a supernatural storm is about to blindside the club, and their personal ties to The Dragon King and Master Vampire won’t be enough to help.

  Razor

  * * *

  I walked the length of the Rolling Thunder bar and restaurant, listening to conversations so I could stop any problems before they started. I’d transferred to the Chattanooga RTMC to set up some laundromats for the club, but all non-wolf shifters have to help at their other businesses during the three nights of the full moon.

  The door opened and three girls came in with a guy. My heart slowed and my dick pulsed — it was girl’s night out, and one of them had brought her GBF. Her gay best friend.

  Unlike wolves, ravens don’t have a strong sense of smell. Our gifts lie in our eyesight and hearing. We can see for miles, but our true talent is in spotting tiny movements and patterns. Those micro-expressions profilers use a slow-motion camera to see? I pick up on without even thinking about. I know when someone’s lying. When they’re happy, sad, conflicted.

  And these four were happy. They talked about outfits, makeup, accessories, and the fact a local department store was having a big sale on shoes and purses the next day, and they had to get there early before the best stuff was gone.

  The twink wore black, skintight jeans, a charcoal mesh shirt that showed his nipples as well as every beautiful muscle all the way down to the dangerously low jeans, and his black jacket reminded me of something Prince might’ve worn in the eighties. The boy also wore heavy motorcycle boots — the real thing, and they showed the wear and tear of a rider. Probably an homage to where they were going, but these weren’t the kind meant to just look good. Either he rode, or he’d picked them up at a secondhand store.

  He was dressed straight out of the ‘looking for my new daddy’ fashion book, but fuck if it wasn’t exactly what this papa bear wanted.

  I moved to the other side of the room and tried to ignore them, but it was only a matter of time before I had to rescue the boy from some drunk rednecks.

  I saw things escalating and was on my way, but one of the girls stood and took a swing at the most threatening of the two rednecks and made solid contact. The twink stood to back his friend up, but the other redneck shoved the little guy backwards into the table and slammed his lower back across the top of the chair, and I wasn’t sure if it had hit the bottom of his rib cage or his kidneys. The twink rolled to the side, came to his feet, and managed to land a few punches of his own, but he also took yet another kidney punch because both rednecks focused on him and ignored his friend. I got to them as fast as I could, and since they weren’t far from the entrance, I tossed the rednecks out the door.

  As the second one landed on the pavement in the parking lot, I wondered if maybe I should’ve escorted them rather than actually throwing them, but it was too late to back down. Viper gave me an odd look, but I needed to handle my job and all eyes were on me. I told the patrons, “We serve everyone here, s’long as they have manners. Those two seemed to have misplaced theirs.”

  It’s RTMC policy to check in on people when we have to intercede, so I went to the twink’s table and asked if everyone was okay.

  “Thanks to you, we’re just fine, big daddy. Can I buy you a drink?”

  I wanted to pick him up and adjust him in my lap once I’d taken his seat, but I couldn’t. I touched one of the girls on the back of her arm. “Let me see your hand, sweetheart.”

  “It’s okay.” She lifted it, and I saw red knuckles with a touch of swelling, but if her hand hurt, she wasn’t showing it. She’d popped the guy a good one to keep him away from her friend. I turned to Gonzo at the bar — he’d wait until the third night of the full moon so he could run with his wife. “Drinks on the house
for the girlie, since she did part of my job for me before I could get to them.”

  I looked at the twink, our gazes locked, and he knew. He’d already guessed, but now he was certain. I saw the smug look and the extra sparkle in his eyes, and my heart sank. I didn’t need this right now.

  First things first though. I ignored his flirting and said, “I saw the kidney punch. This isn’t the time to play it cool. You okay?” He’d deflected most of the hits to his face — the rednecks had been sloppy with their punches. His kidney had taken two solid hits, though. His hand was a little scuffed from landing his own punches, but I didn’t comment on it.

  Viper moved behind us and said what I’d known from the kid’s expression.

  “No, he’s hurting.” Viper could smell his pain.

  “Right.” I stepped back so I was beside Viper. “I’m not a doctor, but I’ve seen my share of fighting injuries. I can take you to the office and look it over for you. Figure out if it’s ribs or kidneys. Get you some ice.”

  Viper snorted. “Razor used to be a paramedic. Go with him, kid. Let him look you over.”

  As soon as the door closed and the sounds of the bar faded, the kid touched the center of my chest, cocked his hip out, and said, “You’re in the closet, Papa Bear.”

  I sighed, pushed the hidden button in the doorframe to make sure we weren’t being watched or recorded by the control room, put my hands on the boy’s shoulders, and turned him towards the center of the room. “Just for a few more weeks. I’m new to town. Wanted to let them get to know me before I told them. Take the jacket and shirt off. What’s your name?”

  “Matty.” He winced when he pulled the jacket off, and I helped him with his shirt so he didn’t have to lift his arms.

  “Short for Matthew?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “None of that outside this room, boy. Not even once I’m outta the closet. How old are you?”

  I poked around on his back, watched the muscles, saw the way the blood flow changed. I cataloged things a human would never be able to spot. It’d made me a good paramedic, before I’d joined the RTMC. The straight line of the chair’s back probably had his bottom ribs a little tender, and the punch had hit his kidney. Neither was too bad, but both of them together more than explained the wince when he’d twisted to take his jacket off.

  “Twenty-three. About to graduate college.”

  “What’re you majoring in?”

  “Interior design, with a minor in graphic design.”

  Kid was hitting all the stereotypes.

  “You got a job?”

  “Two of ‘em. I work at an advertising company and help out with their graphics after school during the week, and I work at a furniture store on the weekend.”

  “Kidney took a hit, but it isn’t likely bad enough you need a doc.” I met his gaze and let him see I meant business. “Any back or abdominal pain, blood in your piss, nausea, difficulty pissing, fever, or anything not right — you get to a doctor. Understood?”

  He nodded, and I pulled my wallet out, retrieved a business card, and stuck it in his front pocket. “My personal email is the first part of the one on this card, but at gmail. Email me there, not at the one on the card. No phone calls, no texts to this number. It’s just for club business. Got it?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  I helped him with his shirt and jacket. “You’ll be tender tomorrow, but it shouldn’t hurt worse than now. If it does, see a doctor.”

  “I can give you my cell phone number, if you want to check up on me.”

  I shook my head. “Email it to me before you go to bed. You live with someone, or alone?”

  “With Micca, the girl who took a swing at the guy. She’s kind of my best friend.” He gave me a sideways, flirty look again. “I saw you when I walked in. You were looking at me.”

  “What kind of bike you ride?”

  “How do you know I ride a bike?”

  “Those boots aren’t just for looks.”

  He shrugged. “Ninja 1000 ABS. The racing team edition. I sold my old one last year and bought myself the newest model for Christmas. Figured if I was dating someone, I’d buy something for him and he’d buy something for me, so I cut out the middleman and bought myself something.”

  I winced. “Lime green?”

  He nodded and met my gaze. “And I’ll dust your ass on any Harley you want to pit me against. Any road. You pick it.”

  “That’s a lot of bike for a little guy.” And I had no doubt he could handle it. He’d meant every word about winning a race. No bluster.

  “My pop…” He shrugged. “I don’t do sports. He didn’t get my art — still doesn’t. We found mutual ground with bikes. I raced Motorcross for years. Had a sponsor. Did the circuit. Could still be doing it if I wanted. I have a dirt bike and I play around when I’m off on a weekend, but I don’t want to do it for a living anymore because it takes too much of my life. I know my kidney’ll be okay, and my ribs. I’ve taken enough hits to know the danger signs. Just came back here so I could talk to you.”

  I couldn’t stay in this room with him another minute, or every scent-hound who walked in would know I was in here with a twink and had been horny as fuck. I touched his chin. “Good to know. Email me your number and other contact info. My hand print’s gonna look great decorating your ass when you’re a good boy.”

  Blood rushed to the surface of his skin on every body part I could see. The color and size of his eyeballs changed. His nostrils opened a little more. “And when I’m bad?”

  “My belt, at the very least. Let’s get you back to your friends. No flirting outside this room.”

  “Okay, but I don’t live in the closet. It’s fine if you’re about to come out, but not if you want to stay in there.”

  “Got it.”

  The rest of the night went without incident. Viper shadowed the foursome to their car and saw them off, to make sure they were safe on RTMC property.

  He came to stand beside me when he returned. “Anything I need to know?”

  I’d known our scents were telling when we stepped out of the office. I’d reined mine in, but there wasn’t much I could do about Matty’s. “Not right now. It’s possible I need to talk to everyone at church.”

  I can have sex with women and enjoy it. I prefer mouths and asses, but that isn’t a problem in the clubhouse, and my new brothers had all seen me fuck plenty of the sweetbutts — emphasis on the butt. I’m not interested in a relationship with a female, but one hole is as good as the next if you just want to get off.

  But nothing does it for me like a twink.

  * * *

  Razor

  * * *

  Duke slammed the gavel and hardwood met hardwood. My insides quaked along with the reverberations, but I held my emotions in check so no one would scent them.

  “Razor gets the floor first.”

  He nodded to me, and I leaned back in my chair.

  “Wanted ya’ll to get to know me before I told you too much about my personal life. You’ve seen me spank the sweetbutts and you all know I’m in the leather lifestyle, but you should know I’m what’s called a leather daddy or a bear.”

  “So, you’re gay?”

  I’d known I’d get the most kickback from Dozer. It also didn’t escape my notice he was familiar with the term.

  “Yes. I could argue I’m bi, since I can enjoy fucking women, but I don’t do relationships with them so I consider myself gay.”

  “Duke and I knew when he came,” said Brain. “He asked for some time to let everyone get to know him before he told everyone, and we gave it to him. He’s still on loaner to us from Memphis, but he likes it here and wants to stay, if we’ll have him. I think he’s a valuable addition and I’d like to keep him around.”

  “If he stays,” Duke said, “he won’t be in the closet when he starts dating. If things get serious with a guy, Razor’ll bring him to the clubhouse. Likely won’t fuck him in front of us, but I’m guessing they’ll cuddle
and shit.”

  “I’m good with it,” said Dawg. “Dude knows what he’s doing with the laundromats. We’re making money on the first two inside six weeks of opening.” His gaze met mine. “You’re my brother. Don’t care what kind of hole you like to fuck. It’ll be strange having a man as someone’s ol’lady if you get serious with someone, but we’ll figure it out.”

  I nodded. “Thanks, brother.”

  “I want him to stay, too,” Bash agreed. “He fills in at the bar and the gun store like he works them every day. I’ve watched him defuse situations on patrol like a pro peacekeeper, and having someone around with medical skills comes in handy for the humans we keep close. Also, I’ve grown to like the son of a bitch.”

  “The RTMC is about men. Not faggots.” Dozer’s voice dripped with disgust, and I knew better than to respond. He’d made a statement, hadn’t asked a question. It’s impossible to reason with homophobes. Best not to engage at all.

  “Pretty sure leather daddies do the fucking,” said Gonzo. “They aren’t the ones taking it up the ass. I’m not sure, but I think that means he isn’t a faggot. I mean, I don’t really care one way or the other. I’m with Bash — I like him, even if he is a bird.”

  Gonzo surprised me. The modern-day use of faggot signifies gay men in general, but its origins referred to the younger men who were fucked. I didn’t argue with Gonzo though. He was on my side and there was no reason to correct him.

  “Is that true?” asked Dozer.

  “My boys don’t fuck me. I fuck them. Yes, that’s true.” I didn’t mind their tongue in my asshole if they were supernatural and couldn’t get sick, but they never fucked me. Figured that’d be more information than this crowd needed though.