An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Ringo’s Ride
ISBN 9781419923630
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Ringo’s Ride Copyright © 2009 Regina Carlysle
Edited by Helen Woodall
Photographer and cover art by Les Byerley
Electronic book Publication August 2009
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Ringo’s Ride
Regina Carlysle
Dedication
To author Fran Lee, who understands the value of supporting her fellow writers. You are a doll and I treasure your friendship and generosity.
Chapter One
Ringo Ramone raced through the hot Texas night as if someone had lit a fire under his ass. He dodged rocks and prickly cactus, ignoring the heat that singed the pads of his paws, too furious to notice. Rage beat at him until he practically shook with it. He sniffed the ground in an effort to pick up the trail of the rogue lycans who’d stolen his mate.
His mate!
Fuck!
He’d always suspected Rayne Poteet might be the one but he hadn’t wanted that. For years he’d watched her from a distance, drawn to her sweetness, her beauty. He’d slunk around in the shadows, fighting off the feelings that twisted tightly in his chest every time she so much as spoke to him. He wasn’t an emotional man and didn’t plan on changing for any she-wolf, not even Rayne. Besides, she was too good for the likes of him. He was a motherless son of a rat-bastard traitor and that’s all he’d ever be.
The huge black wolf stopped and panted. How much ground had he covered since leaving the ranch house to hunt down the men who’d taken her? Tonight they’d had a barbecue for the town of Cloverfield. It had been a happy time and, Lord knew, he’d seen too few of those in his many years. His alpha Joe McKinnon, and Quinn, the daughter of their former alpha, were celebrating their Consummation Ceremony when it all went down. Like a bunch of raving idiots, the males of the pack had been lured by rogue lycans to the south pasture while others had circled back to the ranch to steal away their unmated females.
Rayne!
She was his predestined mate. He hadn’t known it until tonight and then, in one instant of stupidity, she’d been taken before he’d had time to absorb it all. Spotting a grove of mesquite in the distance, he loped over, shifting as he ran. Naked, dripping with sweat, he leaned against the rough bark and closed his eyes. Ringo couldn’t help it. The look on her face tonight as the knowledge of their empathic connection, the proof they were a meant to be a mated pair, had gone through him like a blast from a flamethrower. Her pretty, sherry-colored eyes had gone wide as energy sizzled between them.
His cock thickened as he remembered.
Damn his horny ass!
This wasn’t the time.
Shifting back into his wolf, he took off again, scenting the air. Off in the distance, he spotted an old line shack at the edge of the ranch property. If worse came to worst, he could bring her to it. It was kept fully stocked with provisions.
Ringo continued on, running endlessly across the empty stretch of prairie. Suddenly, he spotted it. A low campfire was flickering in the predawn darkness, shooting up occasional sparks. Laughter. Male laughter. His heightened senses picked up the sound of Rayne’s breathing. It was accelerated.
A truck was parked at the very edge of the meager light and two naked men sat on the ground several yards from where Rayne lay, trussed up like a Christmas turkey. Her clothes were a mess and there were scratches on her legs. Her copper-colored hair was spread across the dusty ground like a pool of sunshine and he got a glimpse of her bare white belly and the tiny red panties she wore.
“What are we gonna do with her? Zavalos must be dead. He hasn’t shown up like he was supposed to.”
The other lycan stood and, planting his fists on his hips, stared across the fire at Rayne. Ringo lowered his body closer to the ground and moved slowly toward them, listening.
“Something went wrong. I feel it,” he said. “Let’s load her into the truck and head south. We can’t wait out here anymore. It’ll be morning soon.”
“Please. Let me go,” Rayne said.
Ringo’s heart thumped then sped in his chest at the sound of her voice. Just hearing it threatened to send him to his knees.
“Can’t do that, Red.” This from the man who was crouched before the fire. “Our pack is short on unmated females and you’ll have to come with us.”
“But I-I am,” she stammered. “I have a mate.”
The lycan who stood stalked toward her and, grabbing her shoulders, jerked her upright and slapped her. The crack of it shredded the quiet.
Red rage clouded Ringo’s mind. His fur bristled. They would die this night for trespassing on what was his. His snarl of outrage made his prey go still. With death and destruction on his mind, he leaped.
* * * * *
The first lycan had thrown her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and run with her into the night to where a truck waited. A second man had bound her hands and feet with duct tape and covered her mouth with it too. Callously they’d tossed her into the bed of the truck and driven off. She heard the cries of the McCafferty sisters and wanted to scream her outrage. They were just girls really, no older than seventeen. No doubt they were being handled in the same sickening manner. A second truck, carrying the girls, went in another direction.
Oh gods!
There was no way in hell she could help them.
Terrified, shaken beyond anything in her experience, she’d lain there as tears leaked from her eyes. All she could see was the smattering of stars overhead. All she could hear was the sound of the truck engine and the wind as it whistled by. Closing her eyes, she prayed for Ringo.
Yes, she was lycan but not yet fully in working order, so to speak. She’d yet to shift and only tonight had it been revealed that Ringo, the lanky, dark wolf with the blacker-than-sin eyes was hers.
Hers.
Finally. After all these years of hoping and praying that he was the one who would have an unbreakable psychic connection with her, the wish had come true. He would come for her. She knew it.
They’d barely touched tonight at the barbecue at the Wolf Creek Ranch. Big Joe McKinnon, the pack’s new alpha had taken Quinn, his newly consummated mate by the hand. Joy propelled Rayne to her feet as she took a step through the crowd and toward the bandstand where the couple had gone to make an announcement. Suddenly, she brushed against six foot four inches of steely-hard muscle. She smelled the familiar scent of clean, masculine cologne and stared into the black eyes that featured prominently in most of her dr
eams.
“Ringo,” she gasped as his hands reached out to steady her.
“Steady there, darlin’.”
He sucked in a breath and so did she. Their eyes connected and held.
Around her the world narrowed dramatically as a low buzz of energy zipped through her system. Instantly her panties were drenched and a ball of lust tightened low in her belly. Her first thought was to press her thighs together to soothe the harsh ache in her pussy. “Wha—”
“Fuck. No. This can’t be happening,” Ringo murmured huskily. He released her as if burned and shoved his fingers through his thick, black hair. His nostrils flared. His breath whipped in and out of his lungs as if he he’d run a race.
Rayne could do nothing but stare. Ringo’s eyes narrowed on her seconds before he grabbed her arm and ushered her toward the kitchen door of the house. His grip was strong but she didn’t mind. Even a simple touch from him set her on fire. In the distance she heard shouts of “Happy consummation” from the lycan population of Cloverfield, Texas. But then she heard nothing because Ringo led her through the door, pressed her against the wall and took her mouth with a hunger she’d never experienced before. Those lips, that to others might seem cruel, softened over hers and then he nipped her bottom lip. “This can’t be happening. It can’t be you.”
He regretted her. He didn’t want her.
Ringo Ramone couldn’t be plainer about his feelings but it didn’t keep her from wanting him. He inhaled as if breathing her in then plunged his tongue deep. Energy swirled around them, through them and hung heavily in the air as he tasted her, drew on her tongue and sipped every breath she exhaled. The low moan he sent into her mouth made her hot. Her body was on fire and helplessly she arched against him. With a low growl, Ringo took her hands and stretched them high over her head to press against the wall. He moved his lower body against her until she felt the thickness of his erection against her pussy. He was huge and hard. Gasping out, she met him stroke for stroke. Someone could walk in at any moment but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but sensations that dipped and dived in her body. She wanted nothing more than to crawl up all that lean, rangy body and impale herself on his cock. Rayne brought her leg up to rest high against his hip, opening herself to him. When her vaginal walls contracted and expanded, she wanted to scream her frustration that he wasn’t buried deep inside to ease the ache. Her flesh rippled with sensation as the she-beast deep inside her clawed for attention. She wanted out.
Ringo’s dark Latino features, beautiful and sharp, seemed even harder to her when cast in shadow. White teeth flashed as he gritted them. He dragged his cock across her pussy, stroking her clit with each pass and he thrust wildly as if he couldn’t get enough. “I. Don’t. Want. This. Not now. Not ever.”
All at once everything seized up inside her and Rayne drew breath to scream as intense pleasure made her fly apart in his arms. Ringo’s mouth crashed down on her to swallow the sound as she convulsed. Instantly he let go and stepped back to stare at her as if she were a stranger instead of a woman he’d known his entire life. The predatory stillness about him scared her but made her crave him too.
“You don’t want me, Ringo?” Rayne wanted to bite her tongue the second the words left her mouth. Could she sound more pitiful? She hated her vulnerability and the realization that he didn’t care for her.
Something softened in his face. He reached out and fisted a hand in her long curly hair. Tugging, drawing her head back he looked down at her with a surprisingly gentle gaze. “It’s not you, Rayne. It’s me.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she whispered. An ache of longing and pain caused her heart to tighten. “What a lame thing to say.”
He released her and stepped back, that sly all-knowing smile tilting his lips. “You’ll do better without me, darlin’. I don’t need a mate.”
Those were the last words he spoke to her before she’d been taken. Now she lay on the hard, dusty ground, looking across the campfire at the men who’d taken her. Despite Ringo’s rejection of her tonight, she knew he would come. Despite his moody, surly disposition, he was an honorable man. It was just a matter of time but he needed to hurry. The men were restless, nervous and waiting for word from someone named Zavalos, whom she assumed was the lycan in charge of their criminal activities. Stealing unmated lycan females was strictly forbidden among them and Rayne knew that nothing would save these two from pack justice.
Desperately she wished she could shift.
Nothing would please her more than to rip their throats out for taking her and the younger girls. Closing her eyes, she prayed they’d been recovered and brought back to their parents. Her own parents must be devastated. Worried. She’d lived her entire life being sheltered and pampered and loved. She’d never known anything else until tonight.
As the night wore on, she grew more nervous. Though her mouth was no longer taped, the same couldn’t be said for her arms and legs. These men had tossed her on the ground like she was nothing more than garbage to be mishandled. The fun and flirty skirt she’d worn to the party tonight was bunched around her waist to expose her panties. The tiny white tee she wore was ripped and grimy and her shoes had been lost somewhere along the way. For the past hour the men had been talking quietly together, casting lustful looks her way and she knew she’d be lucky if they didn’t rape her before delivering her to this Zavalos. Her only hope lay in the fact they were beta wolves who wouldn’t want to tangle with their alpha.
When they began to talk of loading her up to travel farther south, terror set in. They spoke of Mexico. The packs there were wild and lawless. Oh please, no. The thought of never seeing her people again sent panic to run amok through her mind. Tears burned sharply behind her eyes but she didn’t want these animals to see her cry. They’d enjoy it too much.
Then she said the wrong thing.
I am already mated.
The bigger one stomped toward her, lifted her upper torso from the ground and slapped her hard. Pain burst in her cheek and she fell backward. She knew what would come next. Pain. Degradation. A means to slate their lust. They were, after all, animals of the basest kind. A low cry broke from her lips but it was muted by the low growl that surfaced in the distance.
A flurry of black flew through the air.
The familiar wolf leaped upon the man who’d slapped her and they rolled together across the ground. The man shifted to wolf but he was vulnerable to the larger beast who ripped at his throat until he lay motionless. Rayne screamed at the suddenness, at the blood. A spray of it splattered across her chest and belly.
The other man jumped to his feet, fear wild in his eyes, as he instantly shifted into a gray wolf with a black muzzle. He whined once and then growled before going into a crouch.
“Ringo! Look out.”
The attack was sudden. Ringo snarled, met the other wolf with teeth gnashing. Then he backed away and began to circle the smaller wolf.
Lycans fought to the death when a loved one was threatened. It was their nature. Pack justice. Nothing would come from this skirmish but death and blood.
Rayne jerked when he sprang at the gray wolf. She was terrified but unable to tear her eyes from the sight. He was huge and beautiful, his coat as shiny black as his mysterious eyes. Her heart pounded, threatening to tear from her chest. It took but a moment for Ringo to finish the wolf. When both wolves lay bleeding on the ground, Ringo shifted into his human self and looked at her.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. Get this tape off me.”
Naked, Ringo bent over her and took care of the tape binding her ankles and wrists and looked at her. More than anger flashed in his eyes. Something deeper, harder burned there. Without saying another word, he ran his hands over her body as if he couldn’t resist touching her. He moved with slow precision, taking his time. His hands traced a path over her shoulders, down her breastbone and stroked over her waist and belly. A muscle worked in his jaw. Then he looked up and his fingers
stroked her cheek with a tenderness she’d never before felt from a man. Ringo didn’t say a word but lifted her into his arms and carried her to the truck belonging to the rogues.
Silence continued as he simply turned the key in the ignition and drove away from the scene. Rayne watched him, not knowing what to say. There were no words. Relief mixed with a bone-deep weariness. Curling in on herself, folding her legs up, she looked at him. His straight black hair fell across his forehead, glinting blue in the dashboard light. In profile, his nose was a thin, sharp blade. If possible, his cheekbones were even sharper. His mouth, cruel but sensual, was tightened into a thin line.
Numbly, Rayne wondered if it was just easier to focus on his unique beauty than on what had just happened to her.
“Talk to me,” he said as the truck bounced along the uneven ground.
“Uh-uh. Can’t.”
“Did they—”
“No! Please, Ringo. Just please. No more.”
He cursed something foul under his breath. “Shh. Settle down. You’re in shock. I’m taking you someplace where I can take care of you, Rayne. Don’t worry about a thing. You’re safe”
She wasn’t worried. She was simply horrified. Everything tonight proved to be just too much but she was safe now. Safe with a man who was her mate but who didn’t want her at all. After a while, she closed her eyes, listening to the drone of the truck as it ate up the miles between violence and home.
It wasn’t until she felt Ringo brake to a stop and the engine shut off that she opened her eyes to take in her surroundings. They were at a familiar house on the Wolf Creek property. Several line shacks dotted the perimeters of the ten-thousand-acre ranch and, growing up in the area, she was familiar with all of them. This small but nice brick house was more than a shack however, and she knew, as a lycan dwelling, it would be stocked with clothing, phones, food and every necessity. Wolves didn’t race the countryside with little suitcases, carrying clothing, so things were kept in the line shacks for convenience.
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