Wild Ride: An M/M Shifter Mpreg Romance Bundle

by Preston Walker

  “Hell if I know. I’m not much for shopping.”

  Bo took off his shoes again before walking back over his carpeting. “Okay, that’s fine.” He shrugged. “Just get in the shower and when you’re in, I’ll look at the tags on your stuff myself.”

  Ryker obediently strode in the direction of the bathroom, although he tried to tell himself that he was doing it of his own accord and not because he had been told to. “Why wait until I’m in? You think I’m going to pounce on you if I’m naked?”

  Bo just shrugged again. “Not really. You already said you were going to give me a break.”

  Slightly baffled, Ryker glanced over his shoulder. “You’re a very weird omega.”

  “And I’ve told you the reasons for that, remember?”

  “I know, but you keep taking me by surprise.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing,” Bo said as Ryker stepped inside the bathroom. “You won’t get bored.”

  No, but it would make things simpler.

  Bo didn’t move from the doorway as Ryker undressed, and Ryker didn’t ask him to. There was nothing sexual about stripping out of sweaty, bloodstained clothing while your mate held his nose to look at the tags.

  “I’ll be back,” Bo said, straightening up and flipping a switch to turn on the bathroom fan. “Take your time and be careful with your wounds, okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Ryker grunted. He stepped cautiously into the tub, knowing that this would be an incredibly stupid time to slip and fall. Luckily, Bo seemed to have taken his bathroom decorating as carefully and meticulously as he did everything else because his searching toes instantly met the textured surface of a bath mat.

  And then he was alone, the apartment door slamming shut and his awareness of Bo becoming fainter as the omega moved away.

  Turning on the water to a temperature that his mate would probably think was too hot, Ryker simply stood under the spray and let it beat against his body for a long while. The heat felt good, washing away the top layer of grime on his body and soothing his sore muscles. His neck still twinged when he rotated it, but the effects of his whiplash seemed to be the only thing really bothering him now. His wounds were nothing but scars, and his muscles hardly ached at all. By the end of this shower, he imagined they wouldn’t be aching at all.

  He was himself again. And Bo...Bo was unchanged, a new constant in his world that he would have to learn how to deal with.

  Squinting through the rising steam, Ryker located soap and used it to wash himself. He even used it on his hair, not interested in using any of the apparently-expensive shampoo or conditioner that stood on the shelf next to a razor and body scrub.

  No wonder his skin is so smooth.

  Even as much as he took his time, there still came a point when there was nothing else for him to do, so he shut off the water and stepped out. Much to his surprise, clothes were already waiting for him in a neat pile with a note set atop them.

  Grabbing a towel that had also been placed where he could easily reach it, Ryker wrapped it around his waist and then picked up the note with damp fingertips.

  I hope you like what I picked out! I got more stuff in other styles just in case you don’t. Oh, and I’m going to burn your other stuff. Sorry!

  ~Bo

  He sighed. “I wonder if he’s going to dress me like an omega, since that’s what I seem to be these days.”

  As it was, he was pleasantly surprised.

  Sure, he hated shirts with three-quarter sleeves, but at least the shirt was simple in and of itself. No collar, no cuffs, no ugly buttons or pockets. The jeans were dark blue and fit almost perfectly, although they were slightly tight around his package. The underwear was a nice touch that he hadn’t even thought about. Leave it to Bo to be the practical one who thought of underwear.

  I bet he has a tongue-scraper that he uses when he brushes his teeth. He seems like the kind of guy who has a tongue-scraper. And a manicure kit. Goddammit, why does he have to be cute?

  Shaking his head, Ryker discovered a clean toothbrush and a travel-size tube of toothpaste on the sink. Ever attentive to detail, Bo had also left him a new container of dental floss.

  Not one to floss, Ryker nevertheless did it just this once so Bo’s thoughtfulness wouldn’t go to waste.

  Combing his fingers through his hair, he looked at himself in the mirror and wondered exactly who was the man looking back at him. It looked like him, but he no longer felt like himself at all.

  “How are you doing in there?” Bo called out.

  In answer, he opened the bathroom door and stepped out. His mate was waiting for him in the living room, and he let out an appreciative coo. “You look so good!”

  Ryker scratched at one stupidly-bared forearm. “Next time, no sleeves.”

  “Noted,” Bo chirped happily and stood up. “I have to take a shower, too. I’ll be fast and then we can go out.”

  Ryker sat on the couch and blankly watched TV while listening to the shower run. Half of him was imagining, quite happily, a naked and glistening wet Bo. The rest of him was pondering exactly how he was going to get through this day when he was so acutely aware of everything that had to be done.

  And then Bo appeared and all other thoughts were chased from his mind as he took in the sight of the omega. Dressed in a simple light blue t-shirt and hoodie, with slim black jeans that hugged his figure, he looked like the sort of twink that every large gay man would hunger after. Ryker felt a sudden surge of pride, to know that this man was his.

  “So, are we ready to go?” Bo asked cheerfully.

  “I guess I am,” Ryker said, his voice a low growl. He felt naked without a jacket of his own but he supposed this would just have to do.

  Bo moved past him to the door of the apartment, their hips brushing for only a moment. Their hands touched and Bo seemed to hesitate, as if wanting to grab on. Ryker would have let him, partly because he felt as though he wanted the same thing, but then the omega moved on and slid the bolt free of its holster. Undoing the deadbolt and the smaller lock beneath it, Bo pulled open the door and then took a step back.

  “After you,” he chirped, blue eyes bright and teasing.

  Ryker put one hand on his back and shoved him out into the hallway. “No,” he growled. “After you.”

  He maintained a very nice view of the other’s ass all the way out to the truck. Bo leapt up in the driver’s seat and immediately started checking his mirrors to see if he could back up safely. Ryker watched him in silence, caught up for a moment in the calculated dexterity of the other’s movements.

  “You really don’t do anything unprepared, do you?”

  “Nope,” Bo said softly, backing out with his usual caution and pulling the truck around to the main road. Seeing as it was in the middle of the day, in the middle of the week, traffic was especially light and he pulled out immediately. “Last time I did something unprepared, I ended up volunteering on an ambulance.”

  “Hmm. Where are we going?”

  “I thought you might want to get something to eat,” Bo said, cheerfully.

  How the hell is he so damn unbothered by this? How does he adjust so fast?

  He wished that he could do the same, and that it was safe enough to do so.

  “I mean,” Bo continued, “I’m starving. Especially since I didn’t eat much dinner last night.”

  “Not my fault,” the alpha grumbled. “If you would have finished faster, the pizza wouldn’t have been so cold. And you have a microwave.”

  Bo giggled softly, although his gaze stayed glued to the road. Ryker gave up on watching him at that point. While admirable, that robotic concentration was anything but cute. Instead, he looked out the window at the sodden streets. His breath fogged against the glass, obscuring some of his vision before he lifted up a hand to wipe it away.

  When was the last time he spent so much time inside a vehicle? It felt wrong not to have the wind in his hair, the rain on his face, or the damp chill against his skin. Canned air filte
red through the truck’s wheezing systems was no replacement for the real thing. It probably wasn’t best to tell the omega that not being able to hear or scent clearly from inside this metal death trap was making him want to claw his own skin off.

  No, Bo was more sensitive than that. Intelligent and obviously fiery, but still tender on the inside and easily influenced as far as his emotions went.

  Never before had Ryker stopped to consider what effect his actions might have on someone before, but he did now and took a minute to carefully choose his words. “After we eat, I would like to take a walk somewhere.”

  “The Waterfront isn’t so far away from here,” Bo said excitedly. “There’s a fair right now, too! I can’t tell you the last time I’ve gone to a fair.”

  Ryker snorted. “Bet you could.”

  “Well, okay, last year.”

  “Same fair?”

  “Same fair,” the omega confirmed, a little pink blush on his cheeks. “But it was such a long time ago. I’ve been going to fairs with my family ever since I was just a pup. I didn’t think I was going to get to go this year, though. What with work and all...”

  “I guess if you’re going to drag me along, I might as well try to enjoy it.”

  Much to his surprise, he did enjoy it. The entire day, even the annoying parts of sitting in the truck, managed to be one small enjoyable moment after another. They ate at a restaurant whose entrance was right out on the sidewalk, rather than tucked into an alleyway where Ryker knew the best dives and bars were located. The prices were a bit on the expensive side, and the wait as longer than it should have been for a time of day that was neither breakfast nor lunch, but the steak sandwich he ordered more than made up for all those irritations. It was seared and sugar-rich on the outside, but nearly as raw on the inside as if it had been fresh-cut straight from a carcass right in the kitchen. None of the other components of the sandwich, the bread or the unnecessary toppings, could disturb the beauty of that piece of meat.

  Bo ordered a salad, because he was Bo. However, it thrilled Ryker to no end to watch his lips move and his throat work. And when he wrapped his mouth around the straw in his drink, it made the alpha’s cock harden slightly in anticipation of having the same done to him.

  The Waterfront was always slightly disappointing for Ryker. It had such promise, with elegant brick paths and dense patches of greenery. The scent of the water and the wind that came off it were sweet and untamed, as pure as nature intended; however, the illusion was shattered by the overbearing grey skyline pressing in almost all the way up to the waterline in some places. Being caught between two worlds, city and nature, worked for some locations. Ryker had been to New York and Central Park once, and found the location almost too magical to leave. Here, the melding was not quite so perfect and it bothered him.

  Bo could not have been more unbothered if he was a six-year-old child, cooing at everything he saw and scampering this way and that. He seemed to lose some of his strict carefulness. Ryker saw his wolf form in him then, a slender black beast prancing around with his tail held up high, and his ears pricked and eyes wide to take in the world around him.

  As they walked through the fairgrounds, taking advantage of the low traffic for Bo to thoroughly examine the contents of every stall that caught his eye, Ryker wondered if there was some sort of significance to the color of their fur. There always seemed to be something special that connected mates, something that was not always physical but always a thing that could just barely be sensed by outsiders. He was black, pitch-black. Bo was also black, but with a ruddy brown base to his fur that showed up in the sunlight, whereas light on Ryker’s fur only seemed to darken the color.

  Maybe he was just being stupid.

  Or maybe Bo would know. It seemed like something he would have some sort of knowledge of.

  Ryker opened his mouth to ask when a sudden squeal alerted him to the fact that his mate was no longer at his side. Turning, he saw Bo prancing around in front of one of those old-fashioned fair games that tended to be rigged.

  The man behind the counter of the game smiled at Bo. “Try your luck! Knock ‘em all down and get your prize!”

  Bo reached into his pocket and pulled out a dollar to hand over, but Ryker intercepted when the man held out a baseball for him to throw. “Let me do it.”

  “I can throw!” Bo protested.

  “These are rigged,” Ryker snapped back. “They glue one of the bottom bottles to the table. Some of the others, too. But if you...”

  Cutting himself off, he snapped his arm back and then lobbed the baseball forward as hard as he could. It was pure luck that he hit the exact bottle which had been glued down, but hit it he did. The entire stack of bottles seemed to take a jump backwards before toppling over, still mostly intact.

  The man’s eyes were as round as the baseballs beside him. “Well, holy shit. Buddy, that’s some arm you got there! You play ball in high school or some shit?”

  “Some shit,” Ryker growled, agreeing. He pointed to the wall of prizes behind the man. “Give us that.”

  The man handed it over obediently, plopping a small stuffed dog into his hands. Technically, it was dwarfed in comparison to Ryker, but was still very sizable. He examined it for a moment, feeling it over with his fingers. The material was cheap—it had to be, at games like this—but he couldn’t find any rips or tears on this one and figured it was good enough.

  “Thanks,” he grunted, and turned around to shove the stuffed animal into Bo’s arms. “Here. Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

  Bo’s eyes lit up and he hugged the toy so hard that Ryker wondered if its seams would hold. “I think I’ll name it Puppy, after you.”

  Ryker rolled his eyes.

  The rest of the day passed just as easily, and when they climbed into bed together that night, Bo slept with the stuffed dog tucked into his stomach.

  Ryker stared into the darkness. Tomorrow, I need to get out there. Tomorrow, I need to start working towards resolving this.

  Chapter 7

  The next morning, Ryker watched as Bo got ready for work. The urge to kiss the omega goodbye before he walked out the door was almost overpowering, but he overthought it so long that he lost his chance.

  He helped himself to the rest of the coffee sitting in the pot, not caring that it was lukewarm now. He also didn’t use a glass, simply placing his lips right on the spout in a manner that he figured would drive his mate nuts. By the time he was done, he figured that Bo would be nearly all the way to the hospital so it was time for him to get a move on and head out.

  He felt somewhat self-conscious leaving the apartment, knowing that he would have to stay out for quite a long time now because he had locked the door. Only when Bo was back would he be able to return.

  Still, that was a good thing, in a way. Twelve hours of wandering would be more than enough time to find out all he needed to know. Plus, thanks to Bo’s generosity, he could take his time with exploring around because he no longer looked homeless. Wearing the same jeans as yesterday, he now had a t-shirt and a hoodie on as well. No more stupid halfway sleeves. It still wasn’t a leather jacket, though.

  Heading out from the parking lot, he found himself guiltily turning in the opposite direction from the way Bo took to get to work. Coincidentally, that took him towards his old pack shelter, but he didn’t quite want to head straight there. In fact, that would be the death of him. He didn’t want to go wandering straight into a murderous den. He just wanted to talk to someone he knew.

  The streets were dry as of yet but the sky was a reflection of the city, overcast and grey. The damp air felt as good against his skin as always. He almost felt like he had only a week before, powerful and free. The only thing missing from this perfection was his poor bike.

  Thinking of his bike made him wince, because now he was thinking about hospital bills. Dammit. Bo’s generosity wasn’t going to help him in that regard. Hell, he might have to go out and find a job himself, soon.

&
nbsp; How would Bo like that, getting off work and coming to see me manning the front register at a McDonald’s?

  Well, perhaps that wasn’t giving himself enough credit. He could easily be a bouncer or bodyguard before turning to teenager jobs like that, but the fact remained that it would be a job and that he would be tied into it for a very, very long time.

  No. Don’t think of that. First is first. Find someone from the pack.

  During his walk, he encountered a few other shifters here and there but they were all prey animals. Three rabbits who stuck together in a nervous group, a swan, and a burly deer. They all skirted around Ryker, though not because he was a wolf so much as because he was an alpha. Animal dynamics were somewhat different in the shifter world, with the weaker shifters often congregating towards packs of predators because they kept actual threats beaten down.

  Then, two hours later, his spine stiffened. Someone was staring at him. He had been watching his shoes but now he slowly lifted his head up and turned around.

  “What do you want?” he growled as he turned.

  The words dried up in his throat as he saw who was watching him.

  In the alleyway behind him, stood a slender woman leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. She wore nothing but black from head to toe, and a thick hood drawn down over her eyes to cast her face in shadow.

  Still, he knew her.

  “Merissa.”

  Merissa lifted her head, pale skin cutting through the shadows. Her lips were dark red, like rose petals, and he caught a glimpse of long blonde hair tucked away at the nape of her neck. “Well, look who it is. You know, I didn’t think you would ever come back around here after what happened.”

  Ryker sighed and crossed his arms now, too. “Is that all you have to say to me?”

  She frowned, stepping seductively out from the shadows with a sway to her hips. Then, she broke out into a wide smile and threw her arms around his shoulders. Ryker patted her back before pushing her gently back away from him.

  Though she was as beautiful as the day he started to hang around with the pack, Merissa was pushing nearly forty-five now. She was the sort of crazy aunt that all the children and teenagers loved, drawn to her because of her sarcasm and wry way of offering support. She was a beta wolf and a sworn loner who had never found a mate, and loudly proclaimed not to need one.