Ricky actually blanched at that.
For a second, Lamar wondered if he’d finally gotten through to the man.
“You don’t follow the laws. You think you can do whatever you want because you’re stronger and faster.” Ricky didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re a danger to society.”
Damn it.
Beyond words, Lamar turned his focus to his food. “What is this?” he asked absently, poking the plastic fork at the noodles.
“Pork lo mein, curry chicken, and ham fried rice,” Yuma replied. “You want some? Surely you must be hungry.” He directed the last comment at Ricky.
“How do I know it’s not poisoned? Sam just threatened to kill me,” Ricky grumbled.
Yuma snorted. “’Cause if we were gonna kill you, we’d have done it ages ago.”
Lamar’s brows shot up at Yuma’s snarky remark. It wasn’t often anyone irritated the penguin shifter. To keep from adding his own threats, Lamar forked some pork lo mein into his mouth.
Sam handed Ricky a plate of food, lifting a brow in challenge. It only took Ricky a moment to dig in. Lamar hid his smirk by taking another bite of food.
Lamar nearly jumped out of his skin when another knock sounded on the door. Shit, why am I so jumpy? Then he realized it was probably because he was locked in a room with a human who’d be happier if he didn’t exist. That would jangle anyone’s nerves. Setting down his plate on a nightstand, Lamar crossed to the door and inhaled deeply.
The musky, spicy male scent emanating from the other side of the door nearly made him moan. His dick went ramrod straight in his jeans. He rested a palm on the door, pressed the heel of his hand to his crotch, and barely suppressed a grunt.
Oh sweet merciful heavens. My mate is on the other side of this door.
Fear and wonder flooded Lamar in equal measure. The thud of another knock, combined with Kontra calling gruffly, “Lamar. You there, buddy?”
“You gonna open the door?” Sam called to Lamar.
Lamar forced himself to straighten, sucked in a fortifying breath, and twisted the lock. After turning the knob, he backed into the main part of the room, quickly getting out of the way. Kontra appeared first, followed by Draven and Vail.
“Damn it, Draven. What’s the meaning of this, leaving me here with…them?” Ricky griped.
“Relax,” Draven droned dryly. “Be nice. We’re all trying to help you.” He grinned and turned to look at someone still making their way into the room. “Besides, I’ve brought someone here to see you.”
Lamar could hear an odd thud-scuff, thud-scuff. His heart tripped in his chest. He knew whoever was moving steadily closer was his mate. He heard the man’s warm, deep voice even before the guy appeared.
“Hey, Ricky,” the man greeted. “You have a number of people worried about you. This where you’ve been holed up, brother? With all these sexy studs? Somethin’ you wanna tell me?” When he came into view, a big grin creased the redhead’s square jaw, and his green eyes twinkled.
Sweeping his gaze over the man’s tall, broad shoulders, seeing the way his chest filled out the black tank top he wore, Lamar ached to touch. His fingers almost twitched with the need. Then he took in the rest of the man. His short red hair was damp and plastered to his skull, his tank top clung, as did the slate-gray work-out shorts. Lamar fought his urge to help the man into the nearest shower and wash every inch of his sweaty body.
Until the guy’s words finally registered in Lamar’s lust-fogged brain. Brother? This guy is Ricky’s brother? Damn it! He’s probably just as bigoted as Ricky.
Ricky’s eyes widened. “Rueben, what the hell are you doing here?”
Rueben’s—so that’s my mate’s name—smile faded. “Come on, man. We may not always see eye to eye, but when you didn’t report in, your chief listed you as missing.” He shrugged. “Just because you hate that I’m gay doesn’t make you any less my family.”
“Shit,” Ricky grimaced. “I just want you to be happy.”
Listening to the two men, Lamar couldn’t help feeling a little awkward, and from the way his friends looked anywhere but at the two men, not to mention their scents, he knew they were just as uncomfortable.
Fortunately, at that point, Rueben grinned largely and his gaze rested on Sam and Yuma. “Hello, again. So, did Ricky switch teams? Is he your boyfriend?” he asked, looking at Yuma.
Yuma shook his head, his lips curving into a wry grin. “No, your brother seems to be completely stuck on the wrong side of the fence.” He shook his head. “Too bad, really. He’s just Sam’s type,” he said, poking his friend, still settled in his chair happily eating his Chinese.