Bear Outlaw

by Candace Ayers

  “All you had to do was ask, Axel.”

  3

  Charlie

  With my family cleared out and my house finally back in order, I could better concentrate on work. I’d been working at my shop the whole time they were in town, but creating new designs was an entirely different beast. Any creative flow I had was dashed out like a fire at a fire fighter’s convention when I was stressed. And if my family was good at anything, it was stressing me out.

  Now that Holt and Sonnie had started a little family of their own, my mother focused even more of her harassment than usual on me finding my mate. Mama Jean either wanted another grandchild or she found a particular thrill in harassing me.

  I reached back and rubbed my neck, trying to massage the knots that thoughts of my family seemed to produce. I stretched it from side to side. Then, got back to work cutting out the scrap of fabric in front of me. Black silk with a velvet trim. The textures would feel tantalizing to the touch. More importantly, the silk would be heavenly against a woman’s skin.

  I couldn’t wait to get the stitching and form finished so I could try it on. This one would have no wire or boning. No padding, no extra anything. Just a whisper thin, delicate piece of fine silk between the world and my breasts. Or a customer’s breasts. If I could turn it loose.

  There was something so sexy and empowering about finding a good bra. Not a good bra, in the sense of a sturdy foundational garment, but a good bra in the sense of sexy and confidence-building. The kind of good that made you want to wear it when you thought someone was going to see you in it. The good that gave a woman a little extra self-possession. Sturdy was fine. I made sturdy, too. Good was my preference, though.

  I pinned the trim and the straps in place and held it up to my chest, eyeing myself in the mirror behind my work table. It looked okay, but it needed a little something else. Quickly, I unpinned the straps I’d had in place and swapped them out for a delicate piece of silk scrap instead. Holding it up to my body, I smiled and nodded. Oh, yeah. That was it.

  Moving the whole thing over to my sewing table, I began working on the completion of my garment when a noise like rolling thunder started up outside. It grew louder and louder until it felt like the earth was shaking. An earthquake? Tornado? My wolf paced wildly at the thought of a natural disaster, and I was right there with her.

  I scurried to the front door to look out, wondering how the rest of Main Street was faring. Turned out, it wasn’t an earthquake. It wasn’t a thunderstorm, either. About fifty motorcycles were rumbling through town, past my shop, disturbing the peaceful atmosphere of Helen’s Corner long after they’d passed out of my sightline.

  Even when I was sure I shouldn’t be able to hear them, the sound still reverberated through my head. What the hell? I’d never seen so many motorcycles in Helen’s Corner, ever. They were like a whole gang or something. I couldn’t imagine what event had brought them through our little town. Maybe we were in the direct path to some motorcycle rally they were headed to. Whatever. As long as they were just passing through, no harm.

  Something about the group set my wolf on edge, a sensation that I found highly unpleasant. I stared out the door at the empty street for a few more minutes, trying to put my finger on what it was that had my wolf so riled. She wasn’t easily intimidated, so it couldn’t have been the bikers riding through town. Had to be something else.

  I headed back to my workroom, but I no sooner sat down at my sewing machine when my phone started buzzing. My alarm reminding me I had an appointment with a doctor in town. An appointment I was dreading.

  I brushed the fabric dust off my shirt and finger combed my hair. Nerves reared their ugly little heads. Not a lot scared me, but for whatever reason, gynecologists gave me the heebie-jeebies. I mentally rolled my eyes at myself. Women had been having the stupid exams for way longer than I’d been alive. I’d live through it.

  It was just the idea of spreading wide open in stirrups for Dr. Marnier that freaked me out so bad. I ran into him and his much younger wife at Karmov’s Market all the time. I didn’t love the idea of him knowing what my downstairs looked like.

  Which was stupid. I was a shifter. We hung out naked after our runs through the woods often. I was naked in front of friends and family all the time. I never spread eagle for them and let them have a good long look up into my inner workings, though. I let out a slow breath and gave myself my typical pep talk: Suck it up, Buttercup.

  What to wear had flustered me that morning as well. While my everyday undergarments consisted of a sexy matching bra and panty set, the idea of stripping sexy lingerie off in the exam room before laying out my goodies in front of Dr. Marnier seemed creepy. Then again, what if his nurse or someone saw me in white cotton granny panties? That wouldn’t be great for business. In the end, I’d gone commando under my jeans, which, it turned out, was also a terrible idea. Without thinking, I’d chosen the jeans with the slightly too short inseam, and the denim seam had been rubbing me raw all morning long. I was worried that I’d have a hoo-hah blister by the time I got the damn things off.

  If I was being honest with myself, it was more than exposing my crotch to Dr. Marnier that was messing with me. I was freaked out about the appointment because I was afraid of the test results. My periods had never been regular, but I hadn’t had one in quite some time. Long enough to be a source of worry. I didn’t think I was pregnant. Even though my own olfactory senses were deficient, in a town full of shifters, someone around town would have said something if I smelled pregnant. Then, there was the fact that I hadn’t had sex in weeks.

  If I was pregnant, I was doomed. There wasn’t going to be any happy ending for me and the wimp I’d slept with. Not like there was for Sonnie and Holt. For me, there’d be an awkward conversation with a meek accountant I’d gone on two dates with, slept with once, and ghosted. To be honest, he wasn’t too persistent. I’d ignored his—probably obligatory in his eyes—call, and his two texts, and he’d gotten the hint.

  The sex had sucked balls. Not literally. The accountant was a timid church mouse, polite but docile. Not my type. I had to make the first move, and all the other moves. I was head strong and bold, I knew that. I wasn’t the type to be satisfied by a submissive man, but there weren’t too many men who seemed to be able to satisfy me. The girls teased that I was a ball-buster, and I’d never find a man who could handle me, and I laughed along with them, but it was probably true.

  Not that I owed anyone an explanation, but I was the way I was because my wolf was a dominant beast. Hell, I had to be a take-no-prisoners type just to handle her. The thought of having to call the accountant and announce that we were fucking pregnant, then having to co-parent with him, I was cold-sweating just thinking about it.

  “Oh, god. Don’t start sweating. That’s so gross.” I whispered to myself while holding out the front waistband of my jeans and fanning myself.

  Don’t let Mr. Milquetoast be the father of my child.

  My stomach was in knots. I had to find out what was going on, though. Whether I wanted to know, or not. If I ended up on an episode of “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant” and had a baby in a toilet while thinking I had gas, I’d never live it down.

  I stepped out of my shop and locked the door behind me. Taking in a deep breath of cold air, I straightened my shoulders and called on my wolf to back me. She was a fierce warrior. She’d handle anything. She never backed down. Inner strength was how I got through most things that shriveled the average woman.

  The doctor’s appointment would be no different.

  4

  Axel

  Muddy’s Corner Bed and Breakfast. I grinned wide, rubbed the scruffy two-day old beard growth on my chin, and propped my boots up on the table. A bed and breakfast was the last place anyone would ever expect to see the Raging Bears. The thought amused me. Truth was, it was the only fucking place in the whole town that had a dining room big enough for all of us. The place stunk like cat shifter, but the food smelled good. The l
ittle bitch running the place was too scared to say anything to us, too, which boded well for our party.

  “I can’t believe we left Big Al’s for this place. A bed and breakfast? I feel like a sixty-year old granny.”

  I looked over at Fontaine and shrugged. “Better food.”

  That much was true. The cook was a master, sending out the best food we’d eaten the entire road trip. Normally, I wouldn’t say that good food alone was worth the drive, but there was a faint scent in the place that had my bear standing up and beating his chest like Attila the Hun. The old bear hadn’t had such an urge to find and conquer since we’d gotten into a scuffle with a group of gators down in south Florida.

  There were other perks, too. Several of the guys had already attracted a good number of chicks from around town. From the sound of it, most of them weren’t locals, but pussy was pussy, and the town was full of it. Whether they were ready to party like the club girls or not, was yet to be seen.

  “I doubt these bitches are going to be as fun as the club babes around Al’s, though.”

  I grinned as one of the chicks he’d doubted settled onto my lap, wiggled her little ass, and wrapped her arm around my neck. She giggled and whispered something filthy nasty in my ear.

  “Ooh…I think you’re wrong there, brother.”

  Fontaine grunted. “Maybe so.”

  The timid little chick in charge quickly disappeared as the party kicked in. Booze flowed freely, all brought in by us. Someone pulled out some speakers and started blaring music. Before long, the place was rocking. The bitches got crazier and my brothers got wilder.

  The little bitch on my lap had gone from giving me a lap dance to grinding her cunt against my crotch as she whispered in my ear about what she wanted me to do to her ass, but something about the faint, underlying aroma in the dining room made it impossible for me to get into her. I finally pushed her off and went outside to check out what was happening.

  Our bikes were lined up in front of the house and there were people walking by with wide eyes, staring up at the porch. I stood there, feet shoulder width apart and arms crossed over my chest, mean-mugging them. They scurried away.

  Pratt, a man I’d pledged with when I was a snot nosed kid of twelve, was staring out at the little patch of lawn. I nodded to him. “What are you doing out here?”

  He jerked his head in the direction of the party. “Something about that house that makes my skin crawl. My bear is straight up tearing at my insides, wanting to come out.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “What do you think it is?”

  He shrugged, leaning against the porch rail. “Fuck if I know. Just know I’ve never felt like this before. Damn uncomfortable.”

  I scanned the street. It was a mish mash of little shops of various shapes, sizes, and colors. Strange looking little town. I heard the strike of a match from Pratt’s direction followed a second later by the sweet smell of his special blend of herb. “You think it’s something in the house, or…?”

  “Like I said, fuck if I know. I’ve got a bad fucking feeling about this place, though.”

  I didn’t want to say it, but I identified with his anxiety. I was feeling something similar. No clue what it was, but my bear seemed to have a premonition of something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I didn’t like being the last to know things. “Want to head back to Al’s?”

  “As much as I want to say yes, I don’t think you could tear me away. I feel like I have to stay.”

  I turned to face him and cursed. “You’re making the hair on my neck stand up. Fuck. I’m going to find some of Big Al’s moonshine and get fucked up. I suggest you do the same.”

  He held up a mason jar. “Already ahead of you, brother.”

  “Find yourself a pretty piece of ass and get rid of that somber bullshit.”

  He grinned past me and nodded towards the sexy blonde slinking her way up the steps, eyes glued to him. “Like I said. I’m already ahead of you.”

  Restless, I went back inside and grabbed a jar of the moonshine before plopping my big ass into a chair. As I turned up the glass, the same little bitch that was grinding on me earlier straddled me and took my head in her hands. She licked across my lips and poked her tongue into my mouth.

  I didn’t feel an ounce of anything. My dick didn’t even get a semi for her. She ground her scantily clad body against mine. The smell in the house was getting to me. Fuck, it killed my dick. I wasn’t a quitter, though.

  I grabbed her ass and yanked her into my crotch harder. I thrust against her, smirking to myself as she moaned and dug her nails into my shoulders. She was easy. She was already close to coming and I hadn’t even put any effort in.

  I felt more hands on me and pulled away from the easy chick on my lap to see another babe with an impressive rack smiling down at me.

  “Got room for one more?”

  Surveying the room, I could see that the party was progressing rather quickly. There were at least a few couples already fucking. One, up against the wall, another going at it on a chair in the corner. “Let’s get a room.”

  The woman in my lap moaned louder. “Let’s do it here.”

  Growing up in the club, I’d participated in my fair share of voyeuristic sexcapades. In the club life, it was fairly commonplace. The smell in the room wasn’t going to let me dip my wick, though.

  “Why don’t you two get it started.”

  The women looked at each other and grinned. Big tits shrugged. “Why not?” The two of them, tits smashed against tits, got right to sucking face.

  5

  Charlie

  I fought tears all the way back from the doctor’s office. I hadn’t even considered the possibility of infertility. I was a shifter. I healed from things almost instantly. How could I be infertile?

  I’d gone from fearing an unplanned pregnancy to finding out that I’d never have one at all. My hands shook as I tried to slide the key into the lock on the backdoor of my shop. Everything was wrong. The world had tipped off balance and I wanted to get inside the shop and hide from everyone so I could shed a tear to mourn my loss.

  “Charlie!”

  I dropped the keys and spun around ready to shift and pounce. My nerves were fried. Everything part of me felt on edge.

  “Charlie, hey! Glad I found you. I didn’t know who else to come to.” Rachel Jane, the local salon owner, hobbled over. She’d taken a nasty spill recently and had a broken ankle to show for it. She wasn’t a shifter, so it would take a while to heal. “There’s something happening over at Muddy’s.” She used her crutch to point. “There’s all these motorcycles out front, and huge, scary-looking men dressed in leather. It looks like a biker party or something. Whatever it is, it’s out of hand. They’re going wild. I’m afraid they’re going to destroy Muddy’s!”

  I pulled myself together and took a steadying breath. I’d mourn later. If something happened to Muddy’s while she was away, and I did nothing to stop it, I’d never forgive myself. “Where’s Anna and Jay?”

  Rachel lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know. Inside, I’m assuming. Should we call the police or something?”

  “No. It’ll take too long for them to get here from Smith. I’ll handle it.”

  “You need backup?”

  In the state Rachel Jane was in, she’d clearly be more of a hindrance than help. I mentally ran through my friends. Sonnie was a human and a new mommy at home with her infant. Carter was still gun shy from her asshole ex. Denny wasn’t a fighter. “No, I got this.”

  I ran down the street and stopped short when I got close enough to take in the scene outside of the B&B. Muddy’s real guests, a few older tourists, were rushing out of the house, pale and wide-eyed, with their suitcases half zipped. There were bikes all along the street, with a couple large, leather-clad men standing amongst them. Empty liquor bottles were lined up on the porch railing like trophies, others were littered around the front grass and flower bed. Even I could smell the pot from where I stood. It wafted thro
ugh the air in smoky clouds.

  What the fuck? They couldn’t have been partying for very long. I’d heard the bikes roll into town just before my appointment and I hadn’t been gone that long. Reminded of the appointment, I felt a shooting pain stab its way through my chest.

  I siphoned all the hurt and anger I was feeling at the unfairness of my situation, into the assholes destroying Muddy’s house, her livelihood. Fists balled at my sides, I marched past the losers outside. None of them looked like they had much authority, and I didn’t want to waste my breath on peons. Ignoring the catcalls, I stomped up the steps and into the house.

  I surveyed the room, too angry to be horrified by what I was seeing. Everywhere I looked, I saw another form of debauchery. There were drugs, ridiculous amounts of liquor, women dancing seductively in various stages of undress, boobs bouncing, butts jiggling. It was a mess. There were people having sex on Muddy’s dining room tables. Not vanilla sex, either. I wrinkled my nose when out of the corner of my eye I noticed a hairy white ass pumping away furiously. Eww. I might have to burn that table before Muddy returned.

  Smack dab in the middle of the free-for-all was a giant of a man whose piercing eyes were boring a hole into me. He had a topless woman on each knee, and the women were making out on his lap. They were getting into it heavily, too.

  His eyes were riveted to me, though. The zap of energy I felt when I met his gaze was almost enough to knock me off my feet. Mate.

  Mate? Oh, Hell, no!

  He was dressed in a white T-shirt that strained against his huge chest and biceps, a leather cut, worn denim jeans, and huge, scuffed, black leather boots. He looked the epitome of a tough-brawling, hard-living, Harley-riding badass.