RufflingThePeacocksFeathers (7 page)

“Yeah?”

Ricky’s voice through the door caught Rueben’s attention.
Damn, when did I get here and knock?
Shaking his head, Rueben hollered, “It’s me.”

The lock flicked open and Ricky pulled the door wide. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Any idea which room is Lamar’s?”

Scowling at him, Ricky crossed his arms over his chest. “I told you not to get involved with him. Why do you want to know?”

“Don’t give me shit,” he snapped. “Just tell me.”

Ricky rolled his eyes and pushed away from the wall. “Why would you bother listening to your older and wiser brother,” he griped.

“Well, you’re half right.”

After flipping the metal loop used to lock the door from the inside, effectively keeping the door from closing and locking, Ricky led the way down the corridor to another room. He knocked loudly, then stood back and placed his hands on his hips.

Sam, bare-chested with a towel around his waist, idly rubbing his closely shorn scalp with a second one, opened the door. “Yeah?” When he spotted Rueben, he grinned. “Hey, congrats, man. We’re all happy for you and Lamar.”

Completely confused, Rueben’s brows drew down. “Huh?”

“You and Lamar. Your mating.” Sam leaned out the door, peering down the hall. “He still in your room?”

“No, he’s not in my room,” Rueben snarled. “Lamar hasn’t spoken to me in three days. Where is he? He talked as if he wanted a repeat fucking, then disappeared after heading here to take a shower. If he’s changed his mind, he should be man enough to tell me to my face.”

Sam’s skin paled under his tan. “What? I haven’t seen him, either. Me and the guys just figured he was holed up with you in your room.” He shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. “You know…getting to know each other.”

“Wait…a…minute,” Ricky drew out his words, drawing both men’s attention. “Rueben and Lamar’s
mating
? What are you saying, Sam?” Ricky turned his frown on Rueben. “What the hell have you done? I
told
you to stay away from him!”

That earned Ricky a fierce glare from Sam. “You warned your brother away from Lamar? What the hell for?” he growled.

Ricky crossed his arms over his chest for the second time and his eyes narrowed as he sneered, “That should be obvious.”

“Hey,” Rueben yelled. “What the hell are you both talking about? Where’s Lamar?”

“Damn it,” Sam mumbled. “Get in here.” He opened the door wide and stepped backward. “We gotta talk.”

Rolling his eyes, beyond confused and frustrated, Rueben hobbled forward. “Right.” Once the door closed, he demanded gruffly, “Tell me what the hell you two are going on about.”

Sam sighed. “You better take a seat,” he said, waving toward one of the small chairs.

Rueben frowned, but after looking at his brother—who continued to frown, but nodded—he did as Sam said. Ricky took the opposite chair. Once seated, he waved his hands in a
well, now what
motion and lifted one brow.

Sitting on the bed five feet away, facing him, Sam stared at his hands where he had them clasped between his knees for several seconds. Finally, he lifted his head, pinned a hard gaze on Rueben, and stated, “I’m a shape shifter. So is Lamar. I turn into a Texas longhorn bull. Lamar turns into a peacock. Each shifter has a soul mate out there somewhere in the world. We only get one, true soul mate and we search our whole lives for that person. You are that soul mate for Lamar.”

From Sam’s very first sentence, Rueben felt his mouth drop open and there it had stayed through the entire spiel.
This guy believes he can turn into a bull? And Lamar can turn into a peacock? A freaking peacock? Really?
Disbelief flooded Rueben. “What the hell are you trying to pull?”

“It’s true,” Ricky hissed, leaning close. “I’ve seen them change. Why do you think they wouldn’t let me leave? I had to accept not only what I’d seen, but the fact that the world is better off not knowing these guys exist.”

“That’s why I thought you and him were holed up together,” Sam said. “I thought Lamar would be explaining all this since you’re bonded and all.”

“Bonded?” That didn’t sound good. Trepidation replaced the disbelief in a hot flash. “What the hell does that mean?”

Sam rubbed his hands over his face, his thumb tracing his scar for a second or two. Letting out a low breath through slightly parted lips, he muttered, “Damn it, Lamar, what the hell are you doing?”

After growling a little, perhaps having some kind of internal debate, Sam told him, “Look. You really need to discuss this with Lamar. Suffice it to say, some of Lamar’s cum ended up in your, uh, ass…maybe the condom broke or something,” he added, shrugging. “Along with that, he bit you. That’s a claiming mark a shifter gives his mate.”

Rueben flushed when Sam pointed at the teeth marks on his shoulder. Never in a million years had it occurred to him that Lamar was a biter. At first, Rueben had been shocked, but when a wave of absolute bliss tightened his balls, he’d been unable to stop from shooting his load a second time. Wait…shooting his load?

“I fucked him,” he whispered. “How did his cum get into…oh!” Heat shot across his chest, up his neck, and over his face. “Um…”

“What the hell did you do?” Ricky asked, narrowing his eyes and leaning close.

“I may have, um, well…After I fucked him, Lamar went into the other room. I thought I had somethin’ drippin’…” Damn, he couldn’t believe he had to tell anyone this. He stared at the carpet, unable to look either man in the eyes as he blurted, “I ended up playing with my ass and I may have had some of Lamar’s cum on my fingers.”

For several long moments, neither man spoke. Rueben chanced a glance up. Sam looked confused. Ricky looked uncomfortable, and maybe a bit…queasy. Finally, Sam cocked his head and said, “I’m sorry. Are you saying you accidentally got Lamar’s spunk in your ass after you had sex?”

Rueben thought back on those moments. Sated beyond belief, he’d watched Lamar’s sexy bubble butt as he’d walked across the room and slipped into the bathroom. The amazing sight had actually caused his softening shaft to twitch. He’d grinned—and he knew it was one of those stupid grins worn by love-struck saps, but couldn’t bring himself to care. While staring up at the ceiling, he’d idly stroked his fingers through the cooling cum Lamar had left on his chest.

He’d felt a tickle behind his balls and hadn’t given it a second thought to reach down between his legs, thinking the double orgasm might have caused oozage from the condom before he’d tossed it. Rueben had inadvertently flicked his fingertip over his own taint. One thing had led to another, and—while thinking of his lover’s long, slender prick—he’d slipped first one, then two fingers into his ass.

“Rueben?”

Sam’s worried tone pulled Rueben from his memory. He looked at the other man’s concerned expression. Shrugging, Rueben stated softly, “I’m a switch. Lamar had said he was clean. I didn’t really think anything of it until now.” His eyes widened. “Wait. Does this mean he’s not clean? Are shifters not clean? Does this mean I’m gonna turn into one?”

Do I actually believe any of this shit?

“No, you won’t turn into a shifter,” Sam quickly assured. “You have to be born that way.”

“You do get a few perks, I guess,” Ricky jumped in. “It’s harder to get injured. Your reflexes, speed, and strength improve. Nothing like theirs, but…” His voice trailed away and he hitched a shoulder. Then he frowned. “On the other hand, your life is now tied to Lamar’s. You’ll live as long as he does, barring something tragic happening.”

“What?” Rueben didn’t even want to try to wrap his mind around that one. He could already feel himself starting to freak out as it was. He could feel his heart thudding faster and faster in his chest, making blood roar in his ears. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Scowling at his brother, he forced himself to ask, “You actually believe all this shit?”

“Yes, I do. Like I said, I’ve seen it,” Ricky replied, gazing at him levelly.

“I need…” Rueben paused and gulped. “I need to think. I need—” He shoved to his feet. “I gotta go,” he murmured, turning his back on the men.

“Wait,” Sam called, but Rueben ignored him.

Rueben hustled to the door as quickly as his booted foot would allow. He’d just pulled it open and hoped he’d gotten away clean when a large hand clamped onto his shoulder. His entire body went tense, but he forced himself to turn and peer into Sam’s concerned brown eyes.

“Here,” Sam said, holding out a slip of paper.

Rueben saw the hotel logo at the top, so it must have been from one of the complimentary notepads off the table. There were words scribbled on it, but Sam’s big thumb obscured most of it, making it impossible to read. Rueben didn’t know if he wanted to know what it said.

“Take this,” Sam urged, wiggling the paper. “I had a thought that, since Lamar wasn’t with you, he could be here. It’s a park at the edge of town. Look for the peacock.”

“O-okay,” he stuttered, struggling with his tongue. Self-preservation urged Rueben to run, but somehow, he managed to reach out and take the slip of paper.

That seemed to appease Sam, for he nodded once and let him go.

Maybe Sam thought Rueben would go there, but as Rueben limped down the hall, he really only wanted to do one thing…well, two things—pack his bags and get the hell away from these crazies.

Chapter Eight

Lamar knew he couldn’t hide out forever. It wasn’t fair to anyone, least of all his mate. He needed to face the man, explain some things.
A lot of things,
he admitted, at least to himself. After all, how long could he expect his mate to wait?

Is that what I’m waiting for? My mate to leave? For him to think it was a one-night stand?

No!

Then what the hell are you waiting for?

Lamar didn’t know if the voice in his head was his peacock or his conscience.

The roar of a motorcycle pulled him from his musings. Bobbing his head, Lamar moved forward, out of the trees. Peacocks weren’t the most graceful of creatures, but he knew his plumage more than made up for his avian awkwardness.

Turning his head to the side, Lamar eyed the approaching Harley with one eye. He recognized it as Kontra’s chopper, the big bear shifter driving. He parked next to Lamar’s Goldwing and slowly surveyed the area, his eyes narrowed. It only took him a second to locate Lamar in peacock form.

Lamar watched the man’s shoulders rise and fall, his chest expand and retract as he heaved a sigh Lamar couldn’t hear. His alpha looked up, seemingly lost in thought. Kontra’s body language was clear. His alpha was disappointed in him.

Lamar felt a twang in the vicinity of his chest, and it took him a second to recognize the emotion.

Shame.

Shit.

Slowly starting toward Kontra, Lamar struggled to figure out what the hell he was going to say. There was no excuse for his behavior, but when he’d discovered that somehow he’d mated with Rueben, he’d panicked. All he could think about was getting away, shifting, flying away, and hiding.

He’d mated with his human without explaining things to Rueben, without giving him a choice. It was inexcusable.

Kontra strode toward him, his long legs eating up the yards between them. Once he reached Lamar, he dropped to the ground, settling on his ass with his back to a large tree trunk. Resting his big hands on his leather-clad knees, he rotated his head where it rested on the trunk and looked at Lamar.

For several seconds, he just stared at him. Finally, the left corner of Kontra’s lip curved up a bit. “You’re a very pretty peacock, Lamar,” he murmured. “I’m normally in bear form when I see you and had forgotten,” he admitted.

Lamar twittered, cooed, and bobbed his head, expressing his thanks. He couldn’t help but fan his tail. His peacock liked praise just a little too much.

Kontra chuckled for a few seconds, then the sound faded. “Sam came to me, Lamar. He said Rueben stopped by his room this morning. The man was none too happy.”

Lamar ducked his head. It didn’t take a genius to figure out which man was upset.

“We thought you’d holed up with him, Lamar,” Kontra growled. “He’s your mate. If you were having problems, why did you let us believe that?”

Lamar almost shifted, wanting to answer his alpha. Finding out they were mated when he hadn’t actually fucked Rueben had come as a shock. He still remembered Sam’s words.

When he’d first arrived in the room they shared, Sam hadn’t been there. Lamar had showered and cleaned up. When he’d walked out of the bathroom and crossed to his backpack, Sam had been lounging in bed, watching television. The covers had been up to his waist, but Lamar still averted his eyes, knowing his roommate was probably nude, awaiting his own go at the shower, maybe.

Except, then the bull shifter had sniffed loudly, and out of the corner of Lamar’s eye, he saw Sam grin. “Hey, congrats. That’s awesome.”

Lamar’s head jerked up, and he’d stared at his friend. “Huh?”

Sam laughed. “I can smell the difference in your scent. Congrats on him accepting you. That’s great.”