by Skye McNeil
Before he had a chance to investigate, Hawk nudged his knee.
“Yo, you heard anything we’ve been saying?”
He glanced around the circle of his brothers. “Not really.”
“His thoughts are too filled with Isa to listen to us,” Brewer teased, coming into the room.
He let that one slide off his back. The next one, though, he couldn’t.
“More like how her virgin pussy feels. I’ll bet it’s good too. All tight and innocent. I know I’d like to taste some of it.”
Silence fell in the room. Each man looked to the instigator, and Hawk swore under his breath. Talking shit was one thing, but that comment went over the line. They all understood who Isa was to the MC and to Doc. She was off-limits.
With a calm face, Doc stood and finished his beer. He tossed the empty bottle to Hawk, then locked eyes with Klink. The shit-eating grin was no longer on his face. Panic and regret were scribbled across it now.
In one quick movement, he pulled Klink off the couch and pounded his fist into the other man’s face, blood spraying when it connected with his nose. Klink fought back, jabbing Doc’s side and stunning him enough to crawl out from under him. Doc grabbed Klink’s leg and punched the man’s kidney. Klink cried out in pain, but the sound was drowned out by the brothers watching on. Bets were called by Snoopy, who suddenly appeared alongside Boulder.
Focusing on the fight, Doc fielded a left kick but missed the punch. He reeled back in pain and wiped blood from his mouth. The fucker had another thing coming if he thought he could talk shit about his woman and not get stomped.
Klink crawled over and put him in a headlock. Using his minimal wrestling skills, Doc managed to escape the hold and pin the other man once more. He threw three more punches before the big man kneed him in the gut. He folded over but wouldn’t relent.
Doc jumped to his feet, Klink following with blood dripping from his broken nose. Serves him right. He punched Klink in the ribs, and the other man’s swing connected with his face. Blood sprayed from Doc’s mouth, and he wiped it on his shirt. They circled each other, their brothers surrounding them in a tight ring. More brothers gathered, and the decibel level increased.
Klink threw a left that smashed into Doc’s stomach. He gritted his teeth and fought through the pain. He couldn’t let this asshole beat him. Doc threw one last punch, sending Klink off-kilter. The older man staggered and dropped hard, lights out. The cheers and yells from his brothers suddenly stopped.
“What the bloody hell is going on?” Reaper roared, his Irish accent thicker with his rage.
Doc stumbled backward, and Hawk caught him before he tripped over the coffee table. Blood and sweat mingled together and raced down Doc’s face. He met the prez’s fierce gaze, chest heaving from the recent altercation.
“Klink disrespected my—” He paused when he noticed Isa come into the room, eyes wide and mouth gaping by the sight. “A woman. He disrespected a woman under my protection and needed to be set straight.”
Reaper glowered at him, the bushy white eyebrows furrowed together. “Is this true?” he boomed.
“Aye,” the brothers said in unison.
Only after Reaper eyed each one of them did he nod once. “Get yourselves cleaned up. We have work to do.” He stomped out of the room, Isa at his heels. Doc couldn’t see her face and swore softly. Acting like a Neanderthal never felt worse.
A sigh reverberated through his entire being. His muscles screamed at him, but not as much as the recent wounds.
“Come on. I’ll help ya,” Hawk offered, looping Doc’s arm around his shoulders. “Pretty sure your lady didn’t appreciate all the blood,” he teased.
Doc tried to smirk, but the act threatened to open his bloodied lip. “Yeah, yeah. Shut up and get me patched up.”
Boulder checked on Klink—who was still out—and then he and Rubble took the man back to his room.
Snoopy patted him on the back. “You did good, Doc. Hell, if Rubble wasn’t our longstanding champion, I’d wager on you.”
He cracked a smile this time and winced. Worth it.
“Grab some ice,” Hawk called. One of the prospects hurried to do his bidding.
They made it to the stairs before Hawk paused. Facing him, he asked, “She worth all this?”
“And more,” Doc replied without thinking twice.
26
Isa
Doc didn’t come to bed that night. After his fight with Klink, his brothers set him up in his room. Isa didn’t bother to check on him right away, waiting until after Hawk and Snoopy cleared out and Doc was asleep to sneak into the room. It wasn’t as big as hers, the décor purely masculine. The mocha-colored paneling and drawn curtains gave the room a dark vibe.
She ran her fingers along the wooden railing at the foot of the king-sized bed. Doc’s steady breathing along with the slight rise and fall of his chest and subtle snore told her he was sleeping.
When she’d walked into the living room earlier to Doc battered and bloodied, she didn’t know what to think. After she saw Klink on the floor, her temper flared. Men and their idiotic fights. Doc’s explanation didn’t help matters either, but Queenie’s translation did.
“Klink said some shit about your, um, virginity, and Doc, well, he defended your honor,” Queenie said hours earlier. “Macha doesn’t condone such behavior, especially when you’re under our protection. How Doc feels about you may also have something to do with it.”
Isa softly sat on the mattress and brushed her fingers along Doc’s face. The cuts were minimal, but the purple bruises made her insides jumble. He’d purposefully put himself in danger for her. What kind of man does that?
Doc shifted on the bed, and she held her breath. He didn’t wake, so she continued her visual perusal of his injuries. With his shirt off, she could see bruising on his left ribs and his right shoulder. And to think, an hour before his fight, I was admiring his strength. She shivered at the power he had over her.
She lightly traced the bruises with her fingertips, then with her lips. He’d more than earned her respect after the day’s events.
She thought back to the conversation with her father when Doc was roughhousing. Phantom warned her of the Twelve Brothers in Colorado and urged her to stay close to her protector. Isa’s eyes dipped over the light sheet on his waist. She’d stay by his side until the very end if it came to that.
Lying beside him, she traced his nose. Thankfully, that part of him hadn’t seen any punches. “You’re a beautiful dolt, you know that?”
“I do, actually.”
Isa gasped and her stomach flipped when Doc’s blue eyes locked her in place. “Bugger, I thought you were asleep.”
He tried to turn on his side, then thought better of it. “I can’t sleep with your hands on me.” A small smile crossed his face. “Or with your scent filling my room.”
She slipped her hand in his and cozied closer to him, mindful of his injuries. “I heard what you did for me.”
Doc cleared his throat. “Wasn’t a big deal. Klink gets on my nerves anyways.”
Isa sat up slightly to look into his eyes. “It’s a big deal to me. I’ve never had anyone defend my honor.” She smirked. “Even if it came from the same man who screwed me against a wall.”
He reached up and traced her lips. “I’d do anything for you, Isa.”
“I know.” She studied the back of his hand and the scabs on his knuckles. “Is this real, Doc? You and me? I don’t have much relationship experience and don’t know if you’re merely protecting me because it’s your job or….” She realized she was rambling and stopped.
He sat up and motioned for her to come closer. Once she was securely in his arms, he looked down into her eyes and caressed her cheek. “I protect you because I want to, Isa. It may be my job, but I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you.”
She snuggled into his wide chest and closed her eyes. Even if only for the time being, she’d be content with their relationship—or
lack thereof. If it was all he could offer, her heart would make do.
27
Doc
Damage control was something Doc was used to from working as a paramedic. He’d come across many scenes on the road where blood and guts were sprawled out for everyone to see. That part of the job was far from fun but wasn’t hard to clean up. A little bleach or tarp would do the job and avoid residual catastrophe.
But the damage control when it came to his fight with Klink was another matter. Isa slept by his side all night. It was sweet in a torturous sort of way. His body craved her touch, but his injuries told him otherwise. He wouldn’t apologize to Klink. No, that was his brother’s job to do. The fucker hadn’t yet, so Doc woke at the crack of dawn to get Isa off his mind.
Now he was doing what he’d done as a kid when he fucked up: he baked. Every Macha brother gave him shit for it too. Especially this morning. Waking up and starting in on his famous cinnamon twists made even Rubble crack a joke about Doc’s baking.
“I’ll take mine with an orange glaze, sweetheart,” Snoopy teased, taking a seat at the kitchen table.
Ignoring him, Doc sprinkled a handful of cinnamon into the mixing bowl and kneaded the dough. He’d had to glove his hands this morning, a fact that only irritated him more as the dough stuck to them.
“And don’t forget extra cinnamon on mine,” Brewer said, grabbing a cup of coffee.
Doc looked up in time to see Brewer wink and add cream to the cup. “Extra cinnamon is a must.”
“Well, then good. I won’t be disappointed.” Brewer walked back to the table and sat beside Rubble and Hawk. They chatted nonchalantly, the early morning wake-up understandable given the ongoing threat. Normally his brothers didn’t wake before ten, but they could all feel the chill of the Twelve Brothers in the mountain air.
Covering the dough, Doc let it rest and washed his dishes. When the dough rose once more, he’d start making the twists.
He looked at the clock on the microwave, then glanced down at his clothes. The Macha tee was a smidge too small, and his jeans were ripped on the back pockets. It’d been early and he’d just grabbed clothes and hightailed it from the room before Isa woke. He couldn’t face her perfection after yesterday’s brawl.
He poured a cup of coffee and sat next to Brewer.
“If we move Isa to the high mountain cabin, it’d be better for us all,” Snoopy was saying.
Rubble shook his head and sipped his black coffee. “Not happening, Snoop. I already laid out the plans.” He narrowed his gaze. “Unless you think you’d like to challenge my sergeant at arms status.”
Snoopy held up both tattooed hands in surrender. “Nah, Rubble, I’d never do that.” He looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “I just wanna make sure my old lady and kid are safe.”
“We’ll send the women and children to the other safe house,” Rubble stated, setting his cup on the table. “Will that satisfy you?”
“Yeah, brother, it would. Thank you.” Snoopy stood and hurried off toward the bedrooms.
Doc could only imagine why. He was worried about Isa too. If he had the chance to spirit her somewhere safer, he’d jump at it.
“Really wish Kevlar was here,” Rubble mumbled. “He never talked back.”
Brewer chuckled. “Yeah right. Kevlar talks shit more than Snoopy.”
“True, but he knows when to shut the hell up.”
Doc blew on his coffee. “Kevlar die?”
“Nah, he was deployed.” Brewer snatched a piece of banana bread from the platter on the table. There was always something sweet in case of midnight snacks or early risers. “He’s special ops in the Army. Been gone two years.”
“He’s one of the best,” Rubble added. “He and I met overseas, and he convinced me to join Macha. I trust no one more than Kevlar.”
“Sounds like a good dude.” Doc took a drink and listened to the cabin coming alive with the morning light. Somebody was getting fucked, that much he could tell from the sounds. A baby cried for her mother, and the stomping of feet could only mean Macha’s bikers were awake.
“He’ll be back soon.”
Doc glanced at Brewer. “How do you know?”
Brewer bit into the bread. “He touched base with Rubble. His deployment is done. Not sure if he’s re-upping, but he’ll be home within the week.”
“Good. We can use all the help we can get.”
Rubble’s eyes flicked between the two men across from him. “That we can.”
Over the next hour, more people weaved in and out of the kitchen, grabbing breakfast and trying to hurry Doc’s cinnamon twists along so they could taste them.
He was rolling out the dough when Isa’s silhouette caught the corner of his eye. He looked up in time to see her smile at Brewer. Thank God they’re related. His redheaded brother was a subtle charmer and wouldn’t think twice if she was interested.
“What’re you doing?”
Doc stamped down his excitement when she touched the small of his back. It felt so innocent, yet he knew precisely what she could do with that hand. “Making cinnamon twists.”
“You bake?” Her brows rose.
“Yeah, so?”
She chuckled. “I never imagined you covered in flour.”
He lowered his eyes and swore. His black shirt was nearly white from the flour.
“I like a man who knows his way around the kitchen.” She kissed his cheek. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Actually, yes.” He grabbed the bowl of cinnamon and sugar. “I’ll paint the dough if you add the cinnamon sugar.”
She quirked her brow. “Paint?”
He held up a bowl of melted butter. “Yep, paint.”
Shrugging, she agreed, and they quickly started an assembly line, Doc using a small brush to apply the butter and Isa smothering the dough with cinnamon sugar. By the end, every countertop was covered in dough.
“Now what?” she asked, rinsing the bowl in the sink.
“We cut and twist.” He unsheathed a knife and started cutting long lines in the dough. Next, he took two slices of dough and twisted them together. Isa came up beside him, watching his swift movements.
“Wow, you’re really good at this.” She grinned. “I never would’ve pinned you for a cinnamon twist kind of biker.”
He quickly finished the dough in his hands. “My mom loved to bake, and I picked up a thing or two.” He glanced at her. “Just don’t ask me to cook. I’m shit at that. Takeout is my specialty.” He motioned for her to come closer. “Try it out. You’ll catch on real fast.”
Isa moved in front of him, her hair tickling his chin. She smelled better than the cinnamon twists, a rarity for his love of the spice. Her hands moved swiftly, her technique not the best but improved by the next twist.
“This is kind of fun.” She started in on her third one, and he had to commend her. She was brilliant in the kitchen. He brushed her hair off her shoulder. Of course, it wasn’t a surprise. She was brilliant everywhere.
“Told ya you’d catch on.” He tore himself away from her sweet body to preheat the oven and prepare the baking sheets. If he had his way, they’d sneak into the pantry and rattle the shelves in between baking.
Isa beamed at him. “I like learning new stuff. Helps me feel well rounded.” She laughed. “Oddly enough, my mum never liked to bake. She could cook one hell of an Irish stew, though.”
Doc put the first round of twists in the oven. “I’d love to try it sometime.”
“Maybe you’ll get lucky.”
He leaned against the oven door and watched her finish putting the twists on her tray. When she reached down to grab another sheet, her hair swung to the left, uncovering her braless state. He swallowed the urge to fuck her right there on the countertop, sweet treats be damned. Instead, he ignored his hard-on and started putting dishes in the dishwasher. Anything to get his brain off the way Isa sent his blood pumping.
“All done.” She set the last tray on the counter beside the
oven. “Any particular reason you chose today to make these?”
He turned around and met her teasing gray eyes. “Nope.”
Her brows shot up. “Really?” She walked closer, arms resting on both sides of the sink, trapping him against it. Her eyes slowly drifted up his body until she met his gaze. “You sure it had nothing to do with the brawl yesterday?”
Doc kept his soapy hands at bay. “Maybe.” He shrugged, and Isa pushed her long hair behind her shoulders, giving him an ideal view of her white T-shirt. He couldn’t resist placing his wet hands on her breasts.
Isa’s jaw dropped and she squealed as the water transferred over her shirt. She swatted at his hands, but Doc merely squeezed her breasts, adoring the way they felt against him.
“Happy with yourself?” she finally asked after he’d soaked the entire front of her T-shirt.
Doc lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. “Very.”
When she didn’t immediately kiss him back, he slipped his arms around her neck and tilted her chin up. Gorgeous gray eyes met his, and he lost his breath. He didn’t deserve even a smile from this stunning woman, but she graced him with one anyway.
“Doc?”
“Yeah, baby?”
Her eyes searched his. “Kiss me.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Lowering his lips, he fused his mouth to Isa’s within moments. She hopped off the floor, wrapping her legs around his waist, lips never leaving his. Doc held her steady, walking them to the pantry. He’d always wanted to screw a girl there and wasn’t about to miss the opportunity.
He flung the door open and shut it again once they were inside. Soft moans left Isa as he kissed down the side of her neck. Her pussy ground against his cock, and he groaned at the clothes between them.
“Won’t someone catch us?”
“I don’t give a shit.” He pushed up her shirt and pulled her nipple between his teeth. She gasped and arched her back. There was no better sensation than to feel his girl come alive beneath his touch.
