by Skye McNeil
“Good. Now, I’m off to see a nymph.” Rubble stood. “Anybody else?”
Cueball and Snoopy stood, and the three made their way across the lot to the clubhouse, where the nymphs held their own little lair beneath the main level.
“Not joining them, Doc?” Brewer poked the fire with a long stick.
“Not tonight.”
“Couldn’t be because of Isa, could it?”
He met Brewer’s teasing eyes. The man was always joking about one thing or another. “I’m on shift after this, that’s why.”
Hawk patted his thighs. “And on that note, I’m joining our brothers. I’ve a sudden urge for pussy.”
Doc and Brewer remained, though neither spoke for half an hour. It was comforting in a way to Doc. Being able to coexist with so many different personalities was unique and something he never took for granted.
“Don’t let Phantom know your feelings on Isa,” Brewer warned. “He’ll shove his entire leg up your ass.”
Chuckling, Doc nodded his understanding. He wasn’t about to get tangled up with the Macha princess.
Even if I really want to.
13
Doc
The past week had been hell. He’d kept a close eye on Isa only to find himself growing more attracted to her. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she was boring or a bitch. But she was neither. Difficult at times, sure, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He smirked and sipped his whiskey. She had her bitch moments, of course, but they were usually earned.
The other men quickly learned that even though she looked harmless, she could shoot daggers from her gorgeous gray eyes. Her friendship with Dolly only secured her more. The MC madam protected her girls and even taught Isa more self-defense tactics. He prayed she never had to use them. He’d watch over her as long as needed. Longer if asked.
The Colorado weather cooperated for the first time after a week of dismal rain. While Isa seemed unperturbed by the precipitation, he was ready for sunshine. They sat at a table behind the clubhouse, a large umbrella shading them. Isa’s focus on the sketchbook in her hands made it easier for him to stare. Her long, dark blonde hair was clipped up, a few strands blowing in the breeze. Minimal eyeliner and mascara were the only makeup on her. It suited her ivory skin more anyhow.
Doc finished off his drink, three ice cubes remaining in the glass. He had to pace himself when it came to Isa. His body told him to drink to replace the urge to touch her, but his mind told him to stay alert. Danger lurked nearby; he could sense it.
“It’s really hard to concentrate when you stare at me,” she said, her Irish accent soft despite her scolding.
Running both hands through his hair, he shrugged. “Just making sure you’re safe.” He leaned over and caught a glimpse of her sketch. A biker jacket with “Macha” intertwined on the sleeves and back stood out on the page. The ghostlike raven appeared more regal, sitting on the shoulder of the ancient goddess. There was even a place to add a patch on the front that didn’t hinder the overall persona of the jacket. He could see many Macha old ladies fawning over such an item. “Wow, that’s good.”
Isa met his gaze, a hint of pride in her face. “Thanks. Reaper suggested I design a few Macha-inspired items while I’m here.” She set the book down. “Not like there’s much else to do. Might as well stay productive.”
“Can I?” He pointed to the book, and she nodded once. As he turned the pages, his brows rose at the intricate details on the jackets, shirts, and even jeans. A few articles of jewelry displaying the Macha emblem, horse and raven made him whistle. More pages were filled with delicately designed items based off Colorado and Snowshoe. “Damn, girl, these are amazing. You should sell them.”
She sat back and slipped on a pair of pink-tinted sunglasses. “I’ve thought about it, but my clientele in Ireland wouldn’t buy them.”
“Then sell them to Macha. The MC will definitely buy your designs, and I’d bet they’d be okay with a form of partnership.” He pulled out his phone and sent a message to Queenie. His aunt had to see the clothes Isa created. He knew without a doubt they’d be top sellers among the crew. A few designs would even sell well at the ski lodge.
“Maybe.”
He narrowed his eyes. She’d been distant the last week, and he assumed it was because of how she acted after he refused to kiss her. Hell, most of his time aside from Macha duties was spent outside her room in the clubhouse. At first, he’d tried to make conversation with Isa, but the Irish lass wasn’t having any of it. He’d been around enough women to know when they needed space. He’d give it to her even if it meant… longer showers.
The sounds of the MC drifted on the wind as neither of them spoke. Rubble tinkered on a Dodge pickup truck in the garage next door, a prospect power-washed the north side of the clubhouse, and somewhere within the bar, Brewer and his sister were playing a rousing game of pool with Cueball. In all his years as a paramedic, these were the sounds he preferred. He liked the hype of the firehouse, but this felt like a family, sounded like a family.
Snoopy yelled in Spanish from the bar’s back door, the angry words directed toward a prospect he was tossing to the curb.
Doc smirked. Yep, just like a crazy family. The longer he stayed here, the less he wanted to leave.
Isa’s sweet scent tickled his nose, but she wasn’t the only reason. Feeling desired came in all forms. Macha’s desire ran strong. He wanted Isa’s to grip him as well.
He stood, the chair scraping on the concrete. “Let’s go, princess.”
She scrunched her face. “Where?”
“I’m teaching you how to ride.”
“No, thanks.”
He grabbed her hand and tugged lightly. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
Isa reluctantly let him lead her toward the line of black motorcycles. The sun bounced off the chrome, the scent of wax in the air.
“Hop on.” He pointed to his secondary bike. There was no way he’d trust her with his dad’s old ride yet. “This is Bob.”
She shot him a disgruntled glance. “You named your bike?”
He chuckled. “No, it’s a Harley Street Bob.” Once she mounted the seat, he turned the key. “You know the basic mechanics?”
“No.”
“All right, let’s do this, then.” He straddled the bike behind her and placed her hands on the controls. “Your right hand is the most important. It gives you throttle and brake.” He demonstrated the throttle. “But remember, a little goes a long way. The last thing we need is you popping wheelies.”
“You’re just saying that because you can’t do it.”
“Don’t tempt me, princess.” He grinned and focused on the job and not her flowery scented hair. “Your right hand also controls the front brakes. Just like on a bicycle, if you squeeze too tight, you might go over the handlebars.” He placed his fingers over hers and demonstrated the right amount of pressure. Her skin felt so different under his calluses. Different but sinfully perfect. “Nothing to it.”
“And the rear brake?”
“Your right foot.”
Isa stepped on the foot brake and squeezed the hand brake. “Which one do I use? Both?”
“Nah. It’s like riding a bike. Usually I apply the rear first to decrease speed, then squeeze the front brake to stop completely.” He rested his chin on her shoulder. “But don’t quote me because I don’t always do that.”
Isa turned her head just enough that her lips were inches from his. The slight intake of breath sent his blood pumping. She was so close. If either moved, their lips would collide. If that happened, he’d never want them to separate.
“What now?”
He eased off the back. The next part she needed to do for herself anyhow. “Clutch. That’s the lever just ahead of the left handgrip.”
“I have a manual car at home,” she said, practicing. “This should be a cinch.”
“Great. Next is shifting. It’s a little different than cars, so it may take some time to learn.” She shifted thr
ough the gears like a pro, and his brows lifted. “Or not.”
She beamed at him. “I guess you pick up a few things when you hang around an MC.”
“Guess so.” He took a step back. “Everything else is pretty easy. Just like a bike. Rev her up. Let’s hear the growl.”
For a split second, Isa’s face blanked, but then she did as commanded. Her right hand twisted, the engine rumbling in response. He nodded approvingly. “All right, show-off. Think you’re ready for some real practice?”
By now, several prospects and club members, including Reaper, had gathered around to watch the newbie. They were all eager to see if she’d biff it.
No pressure, princess.
Isa grabbed the helmet off the back and snapped it in place. “Might as well.”
“I’ll be right here if you need me.” He jerked a thumb behind him. “We all will.”
A flash of panic spread over her face, but she covered it up fast and slid the kickstand out of the way. Surprisingly, she held the bike up without any help. She was a natural if he’d ever seen one. Like father like daughter.
In an instant, she was rolling across the large lot. “Bollocks, I’m actually doing it,” he heard her mumble.
He walked alongside, hands hovering over the back in case of emergency. He’d let the damn motorcycle fall on him before he’d let her get hurt.
Isa accelerated, shifting as she did, and he started jogging to stay beside her. She glanced over to him and flashed him a bright smile. “Having trouble keeping up?”
“Nah, this is a cake walk.”
Determination filled her face, and he instantly regretted the haughty words.
“In that case, let’s pick up the pace.”
Doc gulped hard when she shifted again, sprinting now to keep up. He wouldn’t last much longer, and neither would the parking lot. She’d be out on the street in fifty yards.
“Isa….” He hoped his voice held the warning his stomach did.
She applied the brake and looked behind her. “Yes, Doc?”
The faux innocence in her voice coupled with the cute expression on her face and the batting of eyelashes behind her rose sunglasses ripped apart his control. He had to have her. She felt the same. He could read between the lines of her body language and words. Their roles in Macha were the only trouble.
Catching up to her, he hopped on the back and kissed her cheek. Before she could respond, he took over the controls and they sped down the street. Hoots from the clubhouse behind him caught his ear, but he wouldn’t look back. He needed to focus on the road instead of the spry woman tempting his already hard cock.
“You don’t have a clue what you do to me, do you?”
Isa gripped his thighs at the next turn. “No.”
He bit down a vulgar response. Instead, he carefully placed her hands over his on the grips. “Take control, princess.” She started to argue, so he nuzzled the nape of her neck. “Now.”
Her delicate hands gradually took control of the motorcycle. She slipped on the gears a few times, but he whispered in her ear how to fix it, and they continued down the road without any problems.
Sunlight peeked through the clouds, warming him beneath the leather jacket. They continued through Snowshoe, residents glancing their direction as they passed. He waved to the few people he knew and nodded politely to those he didn’t.
“Take the next left,” he instructed at the stoplight. “Then stop in the parking lot on the right.”
Isa expertly took the turn and cut the engine after she pulled into the lot. Doc kept the bike up until she kicked down the stand. She stood and swung her leg over the bike, but before she could completely step away, he gripped her hips and settled her on his lap, facing him.
Her eyes darted up to him anxiously. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Not a damn thing.” He unbuckled her helmet, and her hair spilled out behind her. It was a thing of beauty to watch the golden locks flow in the breeze.
“You sure you’ve never driven a motorcycle before?”
“A moped, sure, but I tend to pick things up pretty fast.” She rubbed her lips together. “Always been this way.”
Doc reached up and pulled the sunglasses away, her gray eyes now staring at him intently. “You’re good. I’ll bet Macha patches you before month’s end.”
She laughed, the sound infinitely better when it vibrated through to him. Isa slid her hands up his chest and tugged on the shirt beneath it. “And what if they do?”
“I’ll gladly ride bitch with you any day.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Why would you do that?
He cupped her cheeks. “Because then I can smell you, touch you”—his thumbs parted her lips—“and kiss you.”
A wispy sigh escaped her before his lips descended on hers. Softly at first, their mouths connected. He tangled his fingers through her hair, pulling her closer to him. Isa responded quickly, opening her mouth and moaning at the connection of their tongues. He deepened the kiss, never getting enough of her. She tasted as sweet as he imagined, her soft lips only outdone by her candy tongue.
Isa scooted up his lap, his cock alive with the thought of having nothing between her bare body and him. She looped her arms around his neck and rubbed against him, teasing him further. For a virgin, she seemed to know her way around a man. He wasn’t complaining one bit. Not now that he knew the connection between them wasn’t one-sided.
She whimpered when he pulled away. He gently grazed her mouth with his thumb. Her lips were swollen from their recent act, her eyelids still closed. He’d have to go easy with her. She couldn’t be taken hard and rough. At least not yet. Isa wasn’t ready for him. But I’ll get her ready.
Doc kissed the side of her neck. “We better get inside before I decide to take you right here on my bike.”
She gasped, and he looked up in time to see her worried expression.
“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll go slow.” He lifted her off the seat and couldn’t help but notice her shaky knees.
“If a woman doesn’t get a little weak in the knees, you aren’t kissing her right,” his old man told him once.
Well, he was damn sure he’d kissed Isa right.
“Where are we?”
Doc grabbed her hand and led her to the door. “A little project I like to do every once in a while when I don’t have Macha duties.”
Isa slipped in and stopped at the threshold to glance around the room. “This is a clinic.”
“Yep, sure is.” He strode past her and greeted the receptionist. “Hey, Laurie. Anything I can help out with today?”
The young receptionist sat up a little straighter and pushed her chest out. Too many women were drawn to the club members, Laurie no exception. “That’d be great.” She handed him a stack of files, then looked behind him. “Who’s she?”
Doc noticed Isa standing anxiously nearby. She looked completely out of place. “A friend.” He saw Laurie scowl but didn’t address it. He and the receptionist had shaken desk drawers several times over the past six months. Today, though, he didn’t feel anything for her.
Isa’s eyes slowly scanned him. And she’s the reason why.
Turning around, he jerked his head to the hallway. Thankfully, Isa followed without him having to utter a word. Once they were in a small patient room, she opened her pretty little mouth.
“Why are we here? You aren’t a doctor. That’s just your MC name, right?”
He rifled through the first file, not ready to divulge his entire life story. “Technically, no, I’m not a doctor, but I’ve worked as a paramedic long enough to help with stitches and such.” He grabbed the next folder. “And my MC name has a different story.”
“What do you mean technically?”
He opened the door and called for the little boy and his mother to come back. “Watch and find out.”
14
Isa
Isa sat on the rolling stool, eyes intent on watching everything Doc did.
He was incredible. Not once did he lose his cool with the patients. He spoke in a soothing voice to the nine-year-old who needed stitches after falling off his skateboard and cracked jokes with an elderly woman when it came time to draw blood. He never flinched when someone commented on his Macha tattoos or his long hair. She hadn’t seen the Macha emblem on him before. The dark ink looked new, and she immediately wondered when he’d gotten it.
Over the next two hours, Doc helped fifteen patients who couldn’t afford a regular emergency room or walk-in clinic. By the time they were through, Isa could only stare at him in awe. He was much more than a shaggy-haired biker.
“You ready to go?”
She blinked to clear her vision. All she could see was Doc and the gentle way he treated everyone he came across—his brothers excluded. “Um, yes.”
He waved goodbye to the woman at the front desk. Someone she wasn’t particularly fond of given the way the woman ogled Doc. Isa hurried to catch up, and the bell above the door rang their exit.
“You’re a doctor,” she stated instead of asked once they reached his motorcycle.
He straddled the bike and handed her the helmet. “No. I didn’t finish medical school.”
“Why not?”
“My mom needed me.” He glanced to the busy street. “She had cancer and no one to help her.”
“You gave up your career for her.” Isa’s eyes watered. She would’ve done the same had her mother been given more time. The untimely death barely gave her time to mourn let alone accept it.
“And I’d do it again.” He managed a small smile. “Family will always be there for you. A career won’t.”
She took a step closer and accepted the helmet. “That’s why you came to Colorado. To Macha. Because your uncle asked.”
He nodded and started the bike. “Yep.” She hopped on the back before he added, “And I’m damn glad I did. I don’t want to think about what one of the other guys would’ve done if they were assigned to your protection detail.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. “Me neither.”
