MC ROMANCE: Wanted by the Alpha Biker (Motorcycle Club Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) (MC Romantic Suspense Contemporary New Adult Short Stories)

by Alix Labelle

  They had four days left when the entirely unexpected happened.

  Chapter Seven

  “And if you look at it that way,” Barrett was saying, his arm slipped through Jenna’s as they walked, the sunlight slanting toward dusk, “it’s—”

  The bear rose out of the tall grasses with a suddenness that made Jenna take a step back, nearly stumbling over her own feet. Barrett caught her, held her steady.

  “Slow,” he said, voice low. “Just back up slow.”

  She knew that. Jenna took a step back, Barrett matching her, and from the corner of her eye she saw Arthur do the same. The bear snuffled, rising up onto his hind legs, where he towered over Arthur. Though he took another step back, Jenna thought Barrett looked surprisingly calm. Maybe he was just a better actor than she was. Her heart was racing, her stomach twisting sickly. When the bear took a step forward, Barrett’s arm suddenly left her own, pushed her back behind him. Arthur, ahead of them both, growled, and for a moment she thought it had been the grizzly, but it was definitely Arthur, standing there with his shoulders squared like he intended some kind of challenge.

  The bear paused. Looked at Arthur. Then, as Jenna watched, it shifted, and shrank, and became a man. Her jaw dropped open.

  “Arthur,” the man who had been a bear said, shaking shaggy blond hair back out of his eyes. “Barrett. Didn’t know you two were back in the park.” He grinned, his eyes sweeping over her. “And who’s the lovely companion?”

  Like Arthur and Barrett, he was built big and muscled, though he was heavier than both of them, like he’d been bulking up. Or, she realized, like he was preparing for hibernation. He was also completely naked, and she was glad for the long grass that covered him to the waist.

  “Sloan,” Arthur said, polite if a little tight in his throat.

  Barrett was looking at her sideways, then back at Sloan and Arthur.

  “Jenna,” Arthur said. “This is Sloan. Sloan, this is Jenna, who up to this moment was not aware of the existence of our kind.”

  Sloan had the grace to look a little embarrassed. Jenna wasn’t thinking about that. She was thinking about our kind, about the way Arthur had growled at Sloan and the bear paw tattooed on his chest. She looked at Barrett, whose open expression gave away the rest. Both of them, then.

  “Okay,” she said, pleased with the way her voice came out even. “Explain this to me.”

  “Well,” Barrett said. “Um.” He looked at Arthur.

  “It’s pretty simple,” Arthur said, turning to meet her eyes. He didn’t look upset at being found out. “We’re shape shifters, as you’ve now guessed. Bear shifters, if you want to be exact.

  Why didn’t you tell me? The question was almost on her lips before she realized she already knew the answer. Why should they have, when they’d only known her for a week and a half? Sure, she’d told them things about herself, and they’d told her about themselves in return, but she hadn’t told them the secrets that she kept a little closer. Hadn’t told them anything that was likely to upset the easy balance of their camaraderie. Of course they hadn’t told her.

  “Okay,” she said again. “That’s… It’s a lot to take in.”

  Barrett was looking at her like he wanted to come closer but wasn’t sure he was allowed, and she wasn’t sure if she was going to allow him, understanding of the secrecy or not. But for a grown man who could apparently shapeshift into a bear, he did puppy dog eyes really well. She sighed. Who was she kidding? She lifted a hand and beckoned him closer.

  He was there an instant later, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into the warmth of his body. It felt, she thought, the same as it had every other time she’d touched him, and she wondered if she had expected him to feel different now that she knew. As though somehow something of the bear would be suddenly obvious. But the only kind of bear he reminded her of at the moment was a teddy bear. Laughter bubbled up suddenly in her throat.

  “Of all the things I expected on this vacation,” she said through it, “this was definitely not on the list.”

  Arthur was chuckling, obviously relieved with how well she was taking the news.

  “But then,” she admitted, “neither was meeting you.”

  Sloan had apparently taken it upon himself to give them privacy, because he’d ambled off a little way, and she watched as between one step and the next man became bear, dropping down to all fours and strolling through the high grass toward the mudflats. Jenna stared after him for a moment, not sure if she was actually calm or if she was just in shock, before she pulled her attention back to Arthur and Barrett.

  “You two have a lot of explaining to do.”

  Chapter Eight

  Arthur did most of the talking as they walked back toward camp, explaining how shape shifters existed in the legends of nearly every culture, sometimes good and sometimes bad. Most real shape shifters were just people, trying to get on with their lives. There weren’t many of them, he told her as he continued. And there were even fewer who moved between worlds the way he and Barrett did. Many tried to stay completely human, for fear of being discovered changing. Others, like Sloan, took it the opposite direction, living almost entirely as animals. He had grown up on Admiralty Island, among shifters who lived that way, but the human world had always intrigued him too much for him to leave it entirely alone.

  “That’s why he’s bigger,” Barrett said, the curve of his mouth a little rueful. “He grew up on the Alaskan coast.”

  “I happen to like you the size you are,” Jenna said, pleased to see his expression brighten.

  She had a lot of questions. Wanted to ask them what it was like to be a bear. Whether they still thought like humans in their animal shape, or if it was harder. Arthur told her that in the bear shape thoughts took simpler forms, and the longer a shifter stayed as a bear, the longer it took them to come back to human thought patterns. Some of them, the ones like Sloan, eventually chose to never come back at all.

  They made dinner, cooking out over an open fire rather than over her camp stove, and when it was cleaned up and they had returned to the tent, they stretched out on the sleeping bags side by side, and Jenna’s thoughts turned from bears to Sunday, when she would be leaving.

  She didn’t want to go. There was still so much to see. So much to learn about the men she was coming to think of as hers. So much to share. As though he knew what she was thinking, Arthur rolled over and wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close. Barrett slid nearer on her other side, curling his arm over her stomach, below where Arthur’s arm rested.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  Jenna took a breath and let it out again slowly. “About having to leave,” she admitted. “I don’t want to.”

  They looked at each other over her head for a moment, and then Barrett leaned down and kissed her, slow and soft, his palm against her cheek. When he pulled back, he smiled, small and a little crooked, but there.

  “I’ve never been to Iowa.”

  Her eyes lifted to his face. “Would you?”

  “Of course we would,” Arthur said from her other side. His arm tightened. “I don’t let go of things I want that easily.”

  Jenna looked up into two pairs of brown eyes, both of them looking back at her with an affection she had hoped she wasn’t alone in feeling, and she drew them down close to her.

  “My home will always be open.”

  And maybe it wouldn’t be that simple, she thought, tipping her head back against the sleeping bags as Barrett pressed his mouth to her throat, the motion echoed by Arthur on the other side. Relationships were never simple, not with two people, certainly not with three. But that was the beauty of them, wasn’t it?

  She lifted her hands, tangled them in thick, soft hair as the kisses continued, moving slowly downward.

  Maybe in two months they would realize that it didn’t work. That the time and the distance were too much, or that a shifter and a human couldn’t really work out. But for reasons she couldn’
t really put a name to, Jenna didn’t think that would happen. What they had here, right now, it was something special. She raised her arms so they could lift her shirt over her head, wrapping them around two pairs of broad shoulders as she lowered them.

  Arthur, the photographer, so focused; Barrett, so surprisingly sweet behind that shy exterior; and her, the soon-to-be ranger who’d stumbled upon more than one completely unexpected thing in a windswept park on the southeastern tip of Alaska—they made something good together. Something right. And whatever happened tomorrow, she thought as she lifted her hips for Arthur and Barrett to skim her jeans down her legs, they had today. These hours in a tent in bear country.

  And then she stopped thinking about tomorrow, and about next month or the month after, and gave her attention to the moment, and the men who were leaning down over her, their touch warm on her skin. She smiled into two pairs of brown eyes, and gave herself over to the hands and the heat and the soft sounds of three people together in a tent—warm and lit against the chill fall night. Thinking could happen later. Right now, there were better things to do.

  THE END

  Abducted by the Dragon King

  Dragon Shifter Menage Romance

  Abducted by the Dragon King

  Chapter One

  Margot wriggled her nose. The thick bead of sweat that had sprouted onto the surface of her tanned forehead had begun its slow descent down the side of her face. She tilted her head up, squinting at the massive, hot ball of fire that leaked UV rays all over rural Angola. Through the rays, she could see a short dirt path, created by hundreds of years of antelope-traping. It slowly faded into a line of thick brush, which dotted the looming mouth of the cave Margot had spent every free moment in during her last three weeks of volunteering obsessing about. “We’re almost there!” She tightened her core, to rip the words out from the back of her mind and thrust them out into the world. Her strained voice combined with the thumping of Ezra’s boots as he scurried up the last bit of path.

  “You’re almost there. I’ve already made it.” He stood up and placed his hands on his hips, his back to the brush and the cave.

  Margot gazed at his tall frame, her mouth hanging open in wonder at just how small he looked in front of that cave. “This is amazing!” she said in between her deep pants.

  Ezra let out a huff, raising a toned arm to wipe the glistening layer of sweat off of his forehead. “Come on, Margot. We’ve got less than an hour to get back to the village.”

  “Right.” Margot nodded as she hoisted herself over the final ledge, scurrying up the sharp incline. She stomped her final step, a smile stretching across her forehead. “Okay,” she whispered as she continued to catch her breath. She stood up, her eyes sweeping across the hundreds of miles of deep green trees, red rock and dust, and isolated rivers and creeks that covered the Angolan country-side. The air, although still steaming with heat, seemed much more dry and crisp at that altitude. “We must’ve climbed at least four hundred feet.”

  “Ha!” Ezra replied, turning to face the mouth of the cave. “You're telling me this? I’m gonna be sore for the next four days.”

  Margot laughed, reaching into her small fanny pack for one of the two cigarettes she had rolled in anticipation for this moment. “You should work out with the kids more often.” She slipped her cigarette in between her lips and lit it, sucking in her first breath of tobacco.

  Ezra shook his head as he approached her. “No. No. No. That’s your job, and you should keep it that way.” He wrapped his hand around her shoulder.

  Margot’s lips lifted into a crooked smile. “That kind of attitude will get you fat.”

  He gestured for cigarette. “Nope. Not with my morning runs.”

  Margot lifted an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked, handing him the cigarette.

  He shrugged. “Figured I should see what all the fuss is about.”

  “Are you telling me you’ve never had a cigarette?” Margot asked, ducking her head in disbelief.

  Ezra slipped the cigarette in between his lips, taking two awkward puffs. His chest rose as he breathed in the smoke.

  Margot watched him closely, her eyes fixed on his soft jaw and thin lips. “I’ve got to say, part of me didn’t even think this would actually be here.”

  Ezra exhaled the smoke, his smooth breath quickly eroding into a heaving cough.

  Margot laughed as she watched him. “Why are you punishing yourself like this?” she asked, taking his cigarette back.

  “I figured there must be something to it since you like it so much.” He looked down at her, bathing her in his hazel gaze.

  Margot couldn’t help but to smile. “You give me too much credit,” she said, avoiding his eyes and taking another drag of her cig.

  He shook his head. “No. On the contrary, I don’t give you enough.”

  Margot felt oddly exposed alone with her colleague all those feet in the air. She turned to face the dark opening of the cave, watching him mirror her movements in her peripheral vision. “Let’s focus on the task at hand, love.”

  He let out a sigh. “I can’t believe this is actually here.”

  “How dare you doubt the elders’ legends?” Margot asked, shoving him lightly.

  Ezra laughed, then took the first step, but Margot stopped him, her firm hands grabbing his arm. He turned to glance at her, his facial features folded into a look of deep confusion. “Oh no. You don’t get to doubt me all the way up to the tomb of the ancient dragon king and then take the first step.”

  He scoffed, but gestured for her to lead the way.

  Margot giggled, her heart swelling at just how nice Ezra treated her. She had worked at the hospital for almost four months now, and even though she had denied his every advance, he still remained the warmest volunteer she worked with. Her lips stretched into a wide, cheek-aching smile as she stepped over the thick brush. Her face fell at the sudden drop in lighting just at the mouth of the cave. It smelled of ash and smoke. “It would be hilarious if this were real,” she called back at Ezra, who had only just then began to step through the brush. She heard his laughter drift through the air towards her as she took one more step.

  A yelp leapt out of her lips as her feet slipped from under her. Her knees slapped her face, her body folding like a piece of meat. “Oh my God!” she screeched. Her long, frizzy hair slipped through the grates of a net that had suspended her five feet in the air. Her heart pounded against her chest, her stomach knotting and her skin crawling with fear. She fought the net of harsh, thick rope, turned herself over.

  “Margot!” Ezra yelled, running the rest of the way into the cave. He took her face in both of his hands, his eyes wide with fear.

  Margot sucked in breath after breath. “A knife. Did you bring a knife?” she asked, her voice echoing through the cave.

  Ezra shook his head.

  Margot’s heart sank.

  She didn’t bring one either. “Okay.” Her eyes darted around their dimly lit surroundings. “Maybe there’s a sharp rock.”

  Ezra dove for the ground, patting around for something, anything. Margot rolled around in her net, straining to reach inside of her cargo pants. She prayed she had stowed a Swiss Army knife, or a pair of scissors, or something in there. Just when she was about to lose hope, her fingers touched something hard in the last pocket on his right leg. “Ezra!”

  “Marge!” He stood up.

  “My left bottom pocket.”

  He gave a frantic nod and turned his attention to her pants. She sucked in buckets of smoke and ash. “All right, Marge. It’s gonna be okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” she muttered to herself, her South African accent bouncing off the walls.

  Ezra managed to eventually get the Swiss Army knife out, pulled out the biggest blade he could find and set to work. Margot’s eyes started to tear up at the mere sight of Ezra’s fruitless attempts at cutting through thick rope with her tiny knife. “This isn’t gonna work,” she whispered.
>
  Ezra shook his head. “Don’t fucking say that.” Then he started to cut even more rapidly, despite the fact he was hardly halfway through one bit of rope. “We have all the time in the world.”

  Margot was struggling to find it in herself to believe him when she heard footsteps coming from deeper inside of the cave. They were heavy, authoritative.

  “What is that?” Ezra asked, his fingers freezing.

  Margot gulped as the steps got louder and louder. “I don’t know. Ezra you don’t have time…”

  But she trailed off at the sound of an earsplitting roar ringing through the cave. Margot clutched at the ropes, bracing herself as the net swung back and forth. Margot’s stomach flipped as Ezra continued to cut. “Ezra,” she said, reaching for his hand.

  He shook his head. “Margot, not now. I have to cut this.” He didn’t even hesitate enough to look at her.

  There was another roar. It shook at the walls of the cave, resonating through Margot’s bones. “Something is coming and you won’t be able to fight it!” she yelled over the sound. As soon as the roar faded, she could hear the footsteps again and they sounded as if they were right behind her. Margot gripped the ropes as she turned to see what it was that was responsible for her capture.

  “Impossible,” Ezra whispered as he stood up, his eyes wide.

  Margot gulped, listening to the clank of her knife slipping through Ezra’s fingers and landing on the ground. Her eyes widened at the sight scales everywhere she looked. This thing, this thing with scales glistening in what little sunlight made its way into the cave, with beady eyes and fangs longer than her arms, stood before the two of them, its massive chest rising and falling with its every smoky breath.

  “Ezra, run!” she screeched, for she knew he had no chance of being able to fight it.