Lochlan (Broken Deeds MC, #5)

by Esther E. Schmidt

  “Lochlan” Broken Deeds MC #5

  By Esther E. Schmidt

  Copyright © 2018 by Esther E. Schmidt All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Incidents, names, places, characters and other stuff mentioned in this book is the results of the author’s imagination. Lochlan is a work of fiction. If there is any resemblance, it is entirely coincidental.

  This content is for mature audiences only. Please do not read if sexual situations, violence and explicit language offends you.

  Cover design by:

  Esther E. Schmidt

  Editor #1:

  Christi Durbin

  Editor #2:

  Virginia Tesi Carey

  Cover Model:

  Nathan Van Dyken

  Photographer:

  Wander Aguiar - wanderbookclub.com

  Dedication

  To my four beta readers; Neringa Neringiukas, Tracy Supple, Judy Miracle, Tammi Hart. Thank you for your friendship and valuable input. You guys rock!

  Table of contents

  Chapter 01

  Chapter 02

  Chapter 03

  Chapter 04

  Chapter 05

  Chapter 06

  Chapter 07

  Chapter 08

  Chapter 09

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Chapter 01

  ***Lochlan***

  “Nooooooo,” I hear myself yell as I jolt out of my nightmare. “Fuck,” I mutter to myself as I wipe away the sweat on my face and realize I’m bathing in it. My fucking sheets are drenched.

  Ripping the sheets off, I throw them into the hamper and step underneath the shower. My mind is racing to snap myself back together. It’s been years since I’ve had a nightmare. That nightmare. The one that was very much a reality but comes back to haunt me when something happens that triggers it.

  I know very well what triggered it this time. Xena. Doll’s friend with the freckled face and the red hair. The woman woke up feelings inside me that I didn’t think my body was capable of anymore.

  She thought she saw through me, poking a hole in the sneer I use to throw people off. The bracelets I wear. Three beaded, green bracelets. I always tell people my kid made them for me if they make a remark about how hideous they are. Then they feel shitty that they insulted a kid.

  I’ve told my brothers that story so many times. They think they know me, they all think they know me. My brothers think I don’t have kids. That might be true now...but I had one once. I remember when she made me those bracelets and how proud she was...how proud I was. But I don’t have kids, right? Not anymore...

  I shut off the water and towel off before I get dressed and head out. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the damn night. I need a drink and I need it now. It’s not like I can get any sleep anyway. Once the nightmares start, they will continue for nights on end. I can’t even stay in my room, I feel too damn crowded with the walls closing in on me.

  The first two bars I drive by are already closed. Fuck, even this is damn pointless. I take a left and decide to go home. Maybe I can sneak into my Prez’s house and snatch a bottle of whiskey. I rarely drink, sometimes a beer here or there, but that’s it. I only need more when the nightmares haunt me or when it’s my daughter’s birthday—which happens to be tomorrow—or the day this fucking world took her away from me.

  Right now, I need the booze to take away my demons. Demons that woman fired up inside me. One day earlier than normal for me to start drinking, but I need to shove them the fuck away. What I don’t need in my life is a woman. Not now, not ever; I ain’t letting anyone in, ever again.

  My eye catches movement up ahead and the name of the bar flashes in neon; Abel’s. I guide my bike to a stop and I’m standing in front of the bar and strolling to the door before I know it. Damn, I really shouldn’t, but my throat is dry and it’s not like Xena would be at her brother’s bar. Not at this time of night anyway.

  Yeah, Abel is the name of Xena’s brother, and it’s as if life is taunting me...with her brother’s bar seeming to be the only one still open at this time of night. Shit. Hell of a way to get her off my mind, huh? Booze. I need booze to drown her out.

  Who is Xena? She’s the best friend of Doll whom is my brother, Ramrod’s ol’lady. And just her name as a reminder flashes a picture of her through my mind, making my cock hard. She’s the main reason I need a drink today; to forget all about her. No kids, no women.

  Women always want babies and lovey-dovey shit. I will never, ever, have what my heart can’t handle. My heart was filled with the love I gave Harmony, and what she gave back...five fucking years. That’s how long I loved being a father, that’s how long I had her in my life until she was ripped away. I don’t even glance around me but stalk straight up to the bar and plant my ass on a barstool.

  “Whiskey,” I grunt, and it doesn’t take long for it to magically appear in front of me.

  Picking it up, I throw it back with my eyes closed and smack the empty glass on the counter. “Another one, and keep ‘em coming,” I tell the bartender, my throat still raw from the burn of the whiskey.

  Loud music is the only thing that enters my head, that, and the generous flow of whiskey. The bartender...fuck knows if it’s a dude or a chick—I don’t care enough to check—keeps serving me while I keep my head down and sulk in my own misery.

  Enough time, and whiskey, passes for my brain to fog up in a comfortable zone of ‘who the fuck cares about anything.’ I try to get another whiskey, well...I think my demand for another came out somewhat slurred but clear enough to indicate I need another whiskey, but there’s a negative response this time.

  “’Nother,” I grumble a little louder.

  A hand smacks the counter in front of me. “I said, no.”

  “No need to be grouchy about it,” I mutter to myself but the snort coming from the bartender makes me raise my head.

  No. Damn. Way. Freckles and red hair bundled up in a messy...bird nest? “What’s with the...bundle?” I ask and point at her head.

  Her eyes go up as if she can check her damn hair herself as she fucking shakes her tits and adds, “Roaring twenties theme night.”

  My mind autocorrects and all that enters my brain is ‘roaring titties night,’ and it makes me wonder, “So why are your tits covered when it’s roaring titties night?”

  “And that, drunky-bear, is the very reason you’re not getting any more drinks from me,” she snorts and shakes her head.

  I’m still stunned at her whole appearance and the words she threw at me, not making any sense and yet still sexy as fuck. And what the hell? I can’t seem to escape her even if I tried to drown myself with booze, so I might as well give in, right?

  “How about we do something else besides drinking?” There, I managed one complete sentence without slurring.

  She kills the music and flips off some of the lights. This makes me glance around and now I notice we’re the only ones left.

  “Where did everybody go?” I question while I still glance around the empty bar.

  “You’ve been my only customer for the last hour and a half. And you’re lucky I let you come inside since I was closing when you strolled past me.”

  “Why the fuck are you running the bar alone? Where’s your damn brother?” I growl angrily at the fact she’s alone and something seriousl
y bad could have happened.

  “I’m not running the bar alone, Lochlan. Did you not notice the three guys you passed when you entered the bar? One bouncer, two bartenders. I did mention I was closing up when you stalked inside, right? I know you, it’s the only reason I let you in and told the guys to go home. I’m bar-sitting for my brother who’s taking a two-week vacation.”

  “You don’t fucking know me and you shouldn’t have let me in. I could rape you right the fuck now and you couldn’t do anything to prevent it from happening. What the hell were you thinking?” I seethe and step off the barstool, grabbing the counter to maintain balance. Fuck. I shouldn’t have had those last few drinks.

  “I’d like to see you try.” She narrows her eyes at me as she rounds the bar.

  Hot. Fucking. Damn.

  Short dress with fringe brushing her legs from stalking her way toward me. This woman’s got the longest, leanest, hot-damn-legs I’ve ever seen. And did I mention she’s tall? I’m damn tall and always tower over women but with her? We’re at eye level and I know it’s from the sexy heels she’s wearing but I bet if she were barefoot, she’d still come up to my nose. Red fiery hair and those mass of freckles painting her face a unique way, making my blood pressure rise and huddle in my groin.

  “Okay, drunky-bear, eyes up here.” Her voice carries a tight snap in every word.

  Pointing at the fringe—while I’m still staring at her long legs—I add more words, letting the anger take over. “That’s what you’re wearing in a bar filled with horny fuckers? I need to have a fucking talk with your brother.”

  She grabs my cut, and I have to say...facing off with this woman is making me...

  “You’re the only horny fucker in this establishment. As I mentioned earlier, I’d like to see you try. Even if I’m wearing heels, I’ll have you facedown licking the floor before you can so much as touch me.” Her eyes flame with the same ferocity she put in her words and all it does is make me harder for her. But she completely ignores or oversees my desire and continues. “And I know for sure you won’t hurt me, which is the only reason you’re in here while I served you booze. I could have been upstairs watching a movie in bed while playing with my vibrator but no...you needed a drink. But it ends now, you’ve clearly had enough and you need to leave. I’m gonna call you a cab.”

  “Why the fuck do you think I wouldn’t hurt you? You don’t even fucking know me,” I growl, becoming frustrated about her careless behavior when it comes to her safety.

  “My bestie is your bestie’s girl. You won’t risk hurting me, therefore your ass is in my bar guzzling whiskey,” she simply states.

  Bestie? “I don’t have a fucking bestie, he’s my brother.”

  “Whatevs’.” She rolls her eyes.

  My mind apparently plays catch-up with all the things we said back and forth because I suddenly remember her mentioning something crucial and it makes me wonder, and somehow sobers me up some. “Would you be watching a normal movie or porn while playing with your vibrator?”

  The corner of her mouth twitches. “Doesn’t matter, most times I have my eyes closed anyway.”

  Aaaaand I’m drunk again, mostly on lust instead of the whiskey that’s taken root in my bloodstream.

  “Yeah,” she pats my cheek, “drunky-bear, your time is up. What will it be? A cab or do I need to call your...bestie?”

  “I ain’t got no bestie, and I’m not taking a cab.” I take a step closer and try to tower over her, keeping my hand on the counter while doing so because I might sway a little on my damn feet. “Now go and get me another drink.”

  She takes a step back and pats my chest. “Nope, I’m cutting you off, time to go home and get some sleep.” The woman turns on her sexy heels and moves her ass so damn gracefully, the fringe on the hem of her dress is complimenting her every move.

  This sight—not her words—make me growl.

  Xena glances over her shoulder and sticks out her tongue...I’ll be damned. Instead of a barbell, or the tiny skull she had the last time I saw her piercing, there’s a silver hand in place, flipping me off.

  Words pour out of my mouth without thinking. “Give it to my cock, see if he cares.”

  Her head tips back and laughter fills the air. It sounds like fucking bells and my cock is twitching to the tune. I push away from the counter and sway a little on my feet. I’ll be damned if I remember this night tomorrow. I should care, I should, and shouldn’t do a lot of things.

  Yet the only thing that consumes my thoughts is spending the night with this chick’s legs wrapped around my neck while my face is resting on her pussy. Or, better plan, my face resting on her tits while my cock is warmed by the tight grip of her slick pussy. Yeah, sounds like a plan.

  Dammit, why the hell did I gulp down so much whiskey? I need for the room to stop moving so I can get up the damn stairs, the ones where Xena disappeared...fuck, it’s dark. Not dark enough to not see the whiskey bottle on the counter and snatch it up.

  I feel someone grab my cut and help me up the stairs as I stumble into a small...studio? TV, couch, bed, kitchen, all rolled into one. “You live here?”

  “My brother, remember? I’m house, slash, bar-sitting,” Xena tells me as she closes the door and leans on it to slip off her heels.

  I stumble backwards in the direction of the bed, placing the whiskey bottle on the table along the way. I take off my cut, shirt, and unzip my jeans all while fighting to get out of my boots. “Take off the dress,” I croak and fall back—fully naked—on the mattress.

  Chapter 02

  ***Xena***

  Sweet bananas, this man is sculpted to perfection. Inked up perfection, I must say. Not to mention the scruff on his hard jaw adds to the intense sexiness this man oozes. The first time I met him, his hair was somewhat longer and he had a full beard, more like a true Viking with the redness shining through. As if the years of sun and erosion made his hair seem more red or lighter, yet now...the shortness of both his hair and the beard, the color seems somewhat darker, and so is the sexiness.

  I get a glimpse of some writing inked on his side, something about a saint and a sinner, past and future before his arm goes down, taking it from my vision. His chest is inked too, appearing as the back of a little girl holding a balloon. His arm is heavily inked and even one of his hands is covered with it.

  Fully naked. The man is lying fully naked and sprawled out on the mattress in front of me. I need a breath or two to get my heartbeat to slow down and my brain cleared of the fog of lust Lochlan brings out inside me.

  I try to keep a straight face, but it’s not like I have to since Lochlan has had enough to drink to not even notice. “Wow, it doesn’t take much to get you naked, does it?”

  “Nope.” The man pops the P and sighs as if he’s been tired for days before he adds, “You gave me nightmares so I figured you owe me.”

  What is he talking about? I carefully stalk toward him. “Let me get this straight. I give you nightmares, so this gives you the right to get naked in front of me? If you think it’s some kind of payment so I’ll get nightmares too...you’re sadly mistaken, drunky-bear.” I shake my head and mutter to myself, “Quite the opposite. I’ll either stay up all night fantasizing or sleep like a goddess riding orgasm dreams till morning.”

  “You trigger nightmares, make my head start to spin, and my fucking heart gallops in a different pattern. All because of you. I’ve tried to avoid you but it seems there’s a reason we keep running into each other so I might as well drown myself in you.”

  “My bestie is your brother’s girl,” I mutter nervously. “We’re bound to run into each other all the time.”

  I stop at a safe distance from this very tipsy, naked hotness, or at least I think I did until he surges up and in one smooth move, he manages to take off my dress over my head. Okay, I wiggled and held my arms up...you know, all because I need to keep the dress in one piece. Lies, I tell ya!

  Ever since I laid eyes on this hot, huge, biker my pussy and he
art squeezed with joy and glee. Except this man either goes growly or hightails out when I’m in the same room as him. Not now, though, now he’s all hands on.

  His eyes are following his hands, burning with lust while his face looks like he’s in awe. As if he’s not quite realizing this moment is reality. It’s the main reason I didn’t want to let him go home without knowing he’d be safe.

  He’s had too much to drink too fast. Something is bugging him for sure, and the way he mentioned nightmares and how he wants to drown in me and forget, should make alarm bells ring loud enough to bring the both of us out of the desire we’re both wrapped in.

  “Okay, you.” I clear my throat in an effort to gain his attention. Not working. I grab his face in both hands and bring mine closer. “No sex. We’re going to sleep, got me?”

  “I got you,” he states and shit, I’m flying through the air with my next breath.

  “No sex. Skin to skin is a must, you owe me,” he grumbles.

  Again, with his problems being my fault. This man has some serious issues. And, oh, wow, a serious hard-on to go with it. I’m already regretting the no sex rule I set in place, even more when his mouth closes around my nipple.

  I used to be self-aware of every detail of my body. The confetti spray of freckles marking my face, my red hair, thin body, no huge breasts, and my height...I could go on but Lochlan is distracting me.

  Besides, I’ve come to terms with every inch of my body that makes me unique and who I am...yet this man makes me aware on a whole other level. Shit. Why do we have to be somewhat the same height? With him pushing up, his dick is now flawlessly lined up with my...

  “Awwwww, fuck, that feels good, all tucked in. Now I can finally,” His whole body goes limp and a tiny snore start to rumble.

  Holy bananas. Stretched, full, and not able to move because this mountain of a man has me pinned underneath his body. Correction, his very massive, sleeping body. Shifting slightly, I manage to slide to the side so his weight is mostly on his side. Still pinned, still connected in the most intimate of ways.