by Skye McNeil
They reached the clubhouse in record time, Snowshoe passing in a blur. The fact that she didn’t care where they went but only that Doc was with her didn’t help her management of time either. The scenery was gorgeous but not as much as what she was imagining. She could see them years from now, Doc running his own clinic while she designed clothes and sold them in the Macha stores.
Isa frowned and unlaced her arms from his waist before they parked. It was all make-believe. None of it would happen. Even if one of them moved, he was a patch member with Macha. Given his parentage, he’d be in the club for life. Even if he transferred to the Belfast chapter, could I live with that as my life?
“About time, Doc. We thought you skipped town,” Hawk teased from the porch of the clubhouse.
She shielded her eyes and recognized Cueball, Snoopy, and Legs in the shade as well.
Doc rested her helmet on the seat and shrugged. “I wouldn’t do that without beating you at pool first,” he replied with an easy smile.
“Psh, like you could,” Cueball taunted.
“And I’ll bet your dick is just as small as your hands,” Doc teased, causing their small group to howl with laughter. Evidently, it was more true than false.
“Fuck off,” Cueball said, flipping him the bird.
Doc leaned against the porch railing. “That’s not what your sister said last night.”
Snoopy and Legs added a few less-than-endearing insults to both parties before Brewer and Rubble joined the group, twelve-packs of beer in hand.
Isa walked toward the door, the show of manliness suddenly unappealing. Doc acted sweet and gentle with her, but around the club he was just like them. It annoyed her somewhat. Which Doc is real?
Slipping inside, she breathed a sigh of relief when she no longer heard Doc or his MC brothers. “Life was so much easier in Ireland.”
She sank onto the mattress in her room in time for her phone to ring with a video chat. Answering, she grinned at the sight of her two best friends on the other end. “Thank God, friendly faces.”
Orla’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. “What’s wrong?”
A tear slid down her cheek. “I miss you. I miss home.”
“It’ll be all right, lass,” Niall attempted to console her. “You’ll be home before you know, and then you’ll be wishing you were in Colorado instead of Ireland.”
“Yeah, plus, the weather here has been so crappy lately,” Orla added. “You’re lucky to get away for a bit.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Mrs. Stapleton actually ate one of the candles in the shop.” Niall shook his head. “The old loon thought the cupcake mold was real. She threw one hell of a fit when it tasted like wax instead of cherry fudge.”
Isa chuckled and wiped away her tears. Her best friends could always cheer her up. “All right, all right, you convinced me. I’m in the right place for the time being.”
Orla took over the frame. “Is there anything else bothering you?” Her brown eyes searched Isa’s. “Are they treating you well?”
“If they’re not, I’ll kick all their arses,” Niall called from the shop counter.
Orla rolled her eyes. “Aye, love, you could totally take on Macha bikers and live to tell the tale.”
Propping a pillow behind her back, Isa wished she could reach across the phone and give her friends a giant hug. They’d do anything for her and vice versa. “Well, there’s this guy, and he—”
“Niall, pack a bag. We’ve a dumbass to kick in the bollocks.”
“No, no, nothing like that,” she rushed to say. “He’s nice. Sweet even.” Isa scratched her head. “Just a little different when he’s with the other MC members.”
Orla stopped yelling travel plans to her husband. “Hold the phone. Are you saying you like him? As in like like him?”
She slowly nodded, warmth flooding her cheeks. In all their years as friends, she’d never had a steady boyfriend. Dates now and then, but no man who ever made her heart leap.
“Ah.” Orla put her finger to her lips and walked out of the room. Only once she closed the door behind her did she speak. “Tell me everything.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Psh, poppycock.” Orla plopped into the office chair and positioned the phone on the desk so she could type on her laptop. “What’s his name?’
“Orla….”
“Isa….”
Nothing would keep her best friend from uncovering her crush, so Isa gave his club name and last name.
Orla’s fingers flew across the keyboard, eyes strict on the screen. “He’s from Iowa?”
“Yeah but moved here to help his uncle.”
More clicking from the other end. “And Reaper’s nephew? Oh, I think I found a photo on Macha’s website.”
Isa parted her lips to answer, but Orla was already ahead of her.
“Holy damn, he’s hot.” Her brown eyes flicked to Isa. “Girl, he’s extremely good-looking. I mean, I don’t usually like the tattooed vibe, but dang, this Doc guy makes it look sexy.”
“You have no idea.”
Orla sat back, a knowing grin on her pale face. “Ooh, do tell. Has he kissed you?”
“Well—”
“Shite, he has!” She sat forward, eyes alight. “Was it good?”
Isa thought back to the kiss on the motorcycle. She’d been kissed before, of course, but the way Doc kissed made it seem like the first time she’d had a real one. “Better than any other.”
“That’s not saying much.” She snorted. “So, what’re you going to do?”
“I’m not sure.” Isa swung her eyes to the ceiling fan slowly oscillating above her. Doc’s scent clung in the air, the fan a new form of torture. “You know I’ve never…. I mean….” She couldn’t say the words out loud. She’d never said them. But her friends knew.
“Does he know?”
“I think so. He’s protective of me. It’s rather charming.”
“How so?”
Isa thought back over the past two weeks. “Well, he stood up for me when a few of the MC members were checking me out. Then he stopped me from making a fool out of myself when I got too drunk.” She smiled whimsically. “And of course, he’s usually never more than a hundred feet away. Even slept in my room a few times.”
Orla covered a smile behind her fist, but Isa saw it anyway. “That’s really sweet, hon, but isn’t his job to protect you?”
“Aye, but—”
“Everything you’ve said is him doing exactly that.”
“What about the kiss, then?”
Sighing, she went back to her keyboard. “You’re gorgeous, Isa. Any man would count himself lucky to be in the same postal code as you. But that doesn’t mean he feels anything other than animalistic attraction.” She bit her bottom lip, face concerned. “Unless you ask him straight out, I wouldn’t bank on him being your happily ever after.”
“Then you think I’m reading too much into our interactions?”
Orla shrugged. “I’m not there. From what you’ve told me about the club and from my research online—because I’ve literally nothing else to do while you’re on holiday—if Doc lets anything happen to you, he’s as good as dead to Macha.”
Her friend’s perception hit Isa hard. She’d concocted a fairy tale when none existed. At least none she could verify. “You’re right.” She forced a smile. “I’m being silly.”
“I’d never say that. Just be careful, all right? I don’t want to see your heart broken by some badass biker.”
Niall came into the frame. “Love, Mr. Patterson is back, and apparently I’m not feminine enough to help him.”
Orla chuckled and blew her a kiss. “Better go help. Love you, sis.”
“You too.” She sighed as the video call disconnected. She could almost hear ornery Mr. Patterson demanding one of the “pretty ladies” help him with his weekly purchases. He was one of their regular customers, and despite seeing Niall every week, the old man preferred Isa’s or Orla’s help.
Rolling to her stomach, Isa scanned social media on her phone. Most of her friends were having a dandy summer whereas she was stuck in Colorado with a man who may or may not like her in more than an “animalistic” way, as Orla suggested.
Tearing off her sweatshirt, she snuggled under the covers. For the time being, she’d take a nap and hope that by the time she woke, Doc would be a distant memory.
An hour later, she woke to the sound of a light knock on her door.
“Isa, you in here?”
“No.”
Doc opened the door and chuckled. “You have quite the doppelgänger, then.” He stepped inside the room and leaned against the door to close it. His tall stature and wide shoulders filled the doorway while his leather-and-musk scent overpowered the vanilla cupcake candle on the bedside table. It was one of the items from her shop she had to bring.
“What do you want, Doc?” She sat up and the sheet fell down her chest. The cool air hit her tank top, and she rushed to cover her braless state. She hadn’t expected any visitors.
His eyes dipped to her chest, and he ran his fingers through his overgrown hair, swiping it to the right side of his head. Her fingers itched to replace his, but she’d resist and keep her horny arse on the bed. She couldn’t endure rejection if she was off base.
“I, uh, wanted to make sure you were okay before I headed to the bar. You missed dinner, and I was worried about you.”
“I’m fine.” She yawned and grabbed her phone. New posts from Orla and Niall caught her eye. They were stupidly adorable on their social media accounts.
Boots shuffled to the bed, and she felt his weight sink into the mattress. Flicking her eyes to him, she swallowed hard at his probing stare.
“Are you, Isa?” He placed his right arm on the other side of the bed, trapping her between his body and arm. “If you’re freaked out because of the kiss—”
“It’s fine. Your job is to protect me.” She stared at the green Celtic knot tattoo on his forearm. “Sometimes lines get blurred.”
Doc gently gripped her chin, forcing her eyes to return to his baby blues. “That’s what you think the kiss was? Blurred lines?”
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Not with him close enough to touch and her traitorous body wanting her to do that and so much more to him.
He stroked her cheek with his knuckles, sending a delightful shiver down her spine. She couldn’t look away if she wanted. His perfect eyes paralyzed her.
“I don’t kiss women on a whim.” His fingers curled in her long hair, bunching it in his muscular hand enough to control her movements. “And I never blur lines, Isa. I take my job seriously, no matter what it is.”
She tried to nod, but his hold wouldn’t allow it. “Okay.”
Leaning down, Doc nuzzled his nose to her neck, inhaling deeply. “At least not until I met you. I don’t know what it is about you, but I can’t get enough.”
His words ignited a spark in the pit of her stomach. The throbbing of her pulse echoed in her ears, and she desperately needed him to explain.
“I wanted you the first moment I saw you, princess.” He searched her face. “But not only because you’re the most gorgeous woman on the fucking planet.”
Her heart jumped. He couldn’t be saying what she thought. Could he?
“Then why?”
Doc laced his free hand in hers. “You woke me up, and I never want to sleep again unless it’s in your arms.”
Those final sentiments fanned her fire for him. Even if was merely a line, she didn’t give a toss. She closed the minimal distance between their lips and gasped at the force behind their connection. His hands were everywhere at once. His left hand trailed down her body, making small circles on her hip while his right hand cupped the base of her neck, bringing her closer to him.
Doc climbed on the bed and Isa wrapped her legs around his waist, their lips never leaving each other’s. His tongue teased the seam of her mouth, and she greedily allowed him entry. She moaned at the entwining of their tongues, threading her fingers through his blond hair. She roughly yanked it and shivered at his growl.
He sat up, taking her with him, and continued kissing her. Isa’s eyes fluttered open when he broke free long enough to nip her neck and then return to her mouth. She gasped in surprise, and he grinned. His large hand encompassed her breast and kneaded gently. Sparks of desire shot through her body the more he touched her, and her kisses became frantic when he pinched her nipple.
Using his weight against him, Isa pressed his back into the bed, straddling him. The solid muscle beneath her frightened her for a split second, but when she met his eyes, all anxiety disappeared.
She playfully shoved back his cut and slipped her hands beneath his T-shirt. The defined divots on his stomach tempted her to explore more. Sure enough, he had bundles of muscles up his chest and on his shoulders.
Curious now, she lifted his shirt and noticed the intricate artwork on his body. They were masterpieces. Leaning down, she kissed the Roman numerals. “Six fourteen?”
He touched the tattoo. “Yeah. It’s my mom’s birthday.” His eyes clouded. “Ironically, it’s also when she died.”
“Oh, Doc.” She studied the double meaning. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” His index finger traced her mouth, then down her neck. He stopped at her neckline. “She would’ve liked you. All fire and sass.” He chuckled. “Just enough to keep me in place.”
“I doubt that.” She rolled her eyes, and he tangled his fingers through her long hair, pulling tightly.
“Whenever you roll your eyes like that, I want to bend you over my knee and punish you.”
Her breathing hitched. The idea sounded naughty and exactly what her body craved. “Then do it.”
His brows rose and he chuckled, releasing her. “Sweetheart, that’ll only turn me on more. I don’t think you’re ready for that.”
Taking the lead, she climbed off the bed and slowly dropped her yoga pants to the floor, then flicked them away with her toes. Undressing even partially in front of a man never came easily for her. She’d done it a time or two, but nothing ever went beyond foreplay.
When she looked up, her nerves jumbled at his gaze. It was a combination of longing and restraint, one she’d never seen in a man before. Standing in only a tank top and panties under his scrutiny caused her nipples to harden to points beneath the cotton.
Doc shifted to sit at the edge of the bed. He kept his hands at his sides, eyes giving away how difficult it was for him to do exactly that.
Summoning her courage, Isa rested her torso over his knees, giving him the ideal view of her backside. She looked up at him. “Is this what you wanted?”
He let out a strangled groan. “Fuck yes, but, Isa—”
“Punish me, Doc.”
Her words bolstered his movements. Before she could register his intent, he slid down her panties and his palm connected with her arse. Her eyes widened. The pain singed for a moment but gave way to a new sensation between her legs.
She met his lust-glazed eyes at the same moment he let another whack fly. A giggle bubbled up, and she slapped a hand over her mouth at his stern glare. She yelped at the next spanking, but her desire superseded the discomfort. Three. That was all it took for her to be addicted to the erotic pain.
Doc rubbed her cheeks one at a time, warming the imprints from his hand before he gently pulled her up and into his lap. His erection pressed against his jeans and to the front of her red panties. Images of feeling him with nothing in between filtered through her hazy mind.
“I think you enjoyed that as much as I did.” She nodded and he chuckled. “Every time I catch you rolling those stunning gray eyes, expect a repeat of this.”
She licked her lips at the thought, and he palmed her ass. “Doc, I want you—”
“Not yet,” he interrupted, shaking his head.
“Why not?”
After kissing the tip of her nose, he pulled her against his chest. “You’re not r
eady.”
“Is it because I’m inexperienced—” she started, but he kissed her into silence.
When he finally pulled away, he tucked her hair behind her ears. “You’re special, Isa, and you deserve to be treated like a princess. I’d never let any woman’s first time with a man be in a clubhouse full of horny bikers.” He nipped her top lip. “I want you all to myself. No one else deserves to hear you come.”
Goose bumps scattered along her skin, his words only sealing their fate. “When are we moving to the lodge?”
Doc hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head. “Soon enough, princess. Then you’re all mine.”
15
Isa
Tipping back the tumbler of whiskey, Isa leaned back and eyed Dolly and the nymphs. They’d invited her for a little midday fun while the men were at church. Seeing how friends were limited, she’d agreed. It was better than waiting for the hunky biker who she couldn’t get off her mind.
Now, an hour later, she was sipping on something strong while she watched the door.
Ever since their lips met, she desired him. Even if only to touch his muscular arms or trace his elaborate tattoos. She may have been under Macha protection, but she wanted to be under Doc more.
A blush crossed her face, and she took a large gulp of the alcohol.
“Oh, looks like somebody’s thinking about our Doc,” Dolly teased, hopping up on the bar top.
The move from the clubhouse to the bar came after Brewer asked for help organizing the recent deliveries to the bar that pulled him out of church early. Naturally, the nymphs wanted no part of that manual labor, but they were fond of the man himself, so they’d kept themselves busy while two prospects helped Brewer.
Dolly swung her legs like a pendulum over the side. Her short black skirt was hiked to her upper thigh, showing off plenty of skin. It hit her then that she’d never seen Dolly with any of the members. I wonder if she’s gay. When the tattoo-covered woman leaned over and kissed a prospect full on the mouth, Isa disregarded her previous thought. Of course, it didn’t matter what orientation Dolly was. She was as close to a friend as Isa would get in Colorado.
