Cowboy Bikers MC #6

by Esther E. Schmidt

  Cowboy Bikers MC #6

  By Esther E. Schmidt

  Copyright © 2020 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. Cowboy Bikers MC 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

  Dedication

  To those who doubt themselves: It’s your life, never lose confidence or enthusiasm in the things that make your heart beat faster.

  Table of contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  – ALFIE –

  I open my eyes and the first thing hitting me again is discomfort and the awareness of how life is able to knock you on your ass on any given day. Every damn time I wake up I feel a dull ache and a sense of unease. It was worse the first few weeks when I was just injured, and it’s getting less with each day passing, but it sure does something to a man’s mood.

  How did I get injured? I was shot, twice in one leg and once in the shoulder, and it isn’t fucking fun I can tell you that much. Luckily the sprained ankle on my other leg I also endured is healed. Well, somewhat, since the pain is next to none. Maybe my grumpy state of mind is overriding the pain. Whatever.

  Don’t get me wrong, if I had the choice between stepping in the line of fire or not attempting to stop a bad situation; I’d do it all over again because I was protecting Colt and his old lady. No one fucks with any member or old lady of our MC; we live and die for the brotherhood.

  I was the only one close enough when the call came in that Cannon–a biker from Deranged Hounds MC–had gone rogue. I had to face him and a prospect he brought along all on my own. I held on long enough for Colt to jump in and help out. End good, all good.

  But healing takes for-fucking-ever and the shitty thing is the fact I have to depend on others for help. And I fucking hate it. I’m always the one handling everything. I’m a damn leader; always on top and ready for anything. And now my ass has been in this bed for weeks.

  Not to mention the one I share my life and house with is getting the brunt of my annoyance. Right at a time when we want to complete our lives; adding a woman. And lying on my back without being able to do shit or so much as run into a woman complicates things even more and makes my mind go in loops about all kinds of fucked-up shit. I’m a pathetic mess, but I ain’t going to voice that thought out loud; I’d rather stick to being grumpy and annoy anyone who comes near me.

  Laughter flows through the air and it’s coming from the kitchen. It’s Joaquin but there’s someone else with him. A woman. Why the fuck is there a woman in our home? And why the hell is he laughing his flirtatious laugh he only reserves for me?

  Yes, along with being frustrated, I’m also a selfish asshole who has laid claim on Joaquin ever since I saw him. But like Joaquin, I’m a man who likes to enjoy both sides and that means having a woman as well as a man in my bed to share my life with.

  Joaquin is the opposite of selfish, and he too enjoys sharing a woman between us. Shitty thing is…we haven’t found the right woman yet. And this brings me back to the fact of why the hell would he be flirting with a chick in our damn kitchen?

  Unless…motherfucker. He didn’t, did he? “That better not be a new damn caregiver you’re talking to,” I bellow, making the laughter in the kitchen come to an abrupt stop.

  I hear the murmur of hushed words I can’t quite make out until I hear footsteps closing in. From the hall I hear a woman’s voice and I swear the angelic tone seduces me through the damn air as if she’s already between my legs, sucking my cock when she says, “And what if he is?”

  I close my eyes, because if I see this woman, I won’t be able to stop myself from getting off this damn bed and ripping her clothes off to fuck her seven ways to Sunday.

  It’s for this reason I growl, “Get her the fuck away from me, boy.”

  “Not happening, Snappy,” she whispers in my fucking ear and it activates my instincts to move fast.

  My eyes fly open as my hands fist her shirt. I throw her over me in one fluid motion and onto the mattress beside me, pinning her in place with my body. My shoulder is screaming at me along with pain shooting through my leg, but I can’t voice shit because this woman has her tiny hands wrapped around my throat in a choke hold.

  One I can honestly say feels as if she’s about to rip my damn Adam’s apple right out. Do I care? Fuck, no. I’m staring at one hell of a beauty underneath me. Tiny, yet lush. Her hair is a dark, smokey gray ombré wrapped in a long braid, and her eyes are green yet lit with liquid fire.

  “Back. Up,” she snaps, but adds in a fake, candy sweet voice, “Please, sir.”

  I do not want to change positions for the sole reason her touch is leaking calmness through my skin. I can’t explain it but this woman has a soothing effect on me. The way I let her guide me by the throat away from her body is telling the both of us I’m the one giving in.

  My fingers are still gripping the fabric of her shirt and I’m the one guiding her weight; she’s by no way in charge. Yet, I’d gladly let her take over if she wrapped her lips around my cock. Top or bottom ones; whichever is fine by me. Our eyes are locked and I swear I can see our future twinkling in her bright green eyes.

  Instead of getting off the bed on the other side, she decides to straddle me first, brushing her fabric covered pussy against my very hard cock. I swear she wiggles first before she slides off. For the first damn time in my life, I have nothing to say.

  No joke, no dirty remark, no fucking order or a curse. Nothing. My throat is dry and I don’t know if I should be angry, laugh, or grab my cock and rub one out. This woman is confident, straightforward, and not shy in going up against a man like me. I’m intrigued to say the least.

  “Joaquin, can you grab my bag from the kitchen, please?” She might be asking but there’s an edge to her voice to mold her words into a demand.

  Joaquin has a knack for flawlessly following through if you curve your fucking voice and it’s why he spins on his heels. My upper lip twitches in anger but this fucking woman gives me a little shake of her head. What the fuck?

  I raise my upper body–ignoring the ache in my shoulder–when she closes the door and flips the lock. She stalks back to the bed and jabs a fucking finger against my injured shoulder. A growl rips from my throat but I can’t voice shit because she cuts me off.

  “You’re a menace. I’ve read all about you and how you’ve managed to scare away four other caregivers over the past few weeks. That’s going to stop because that man out there has a job too, you know. He needs to get his ass out of this house and you’re going to let him. You and I are going to make sure we get along. I don’t care if we have to fake it. I’ll do what my job description requires me to do and will steer clear of you the rest of the day. If you put in the work it will only take a week or two until you’re completely back to your asshole self. So, buckle up buttercup.”

  She turns around just as fast as she rattled out those words and heads for the door to flip the lock ag
ain. She lets Joaquin in who hands her a bag but looks at me with bewildered eyes.

  I want to lash out at the woman and at Joaquin but the words she just voiced sink in. She’s right about the other caregivers, and I couldn’t care less. But what she said about Joaquin does matter. And again, I realize I’m fucking selfish since I let my frustrations seep through by giving him the brunt of it.

  Which is always the fucking case because you lash out to those close to you. And Joaquin is fucking close to me. He’s the whole love, devotion, loyalty. A concept fallen in three pieces and that’s fucking it…we’re two parts of a three way future, lacking one final part to make it complete.

  Her angelic voice fills the air when she tells Joaquin, “Why don’t you head over to the veterinarian clinic? I’ll keep an eye on Alfie and fill out some forms I brought before going over the list of things you mentioned that needed to be done.”

  His eyes find mine. “Maybe I should stay.”

  “What you need is to get back to your normal routine and leave your worries about your friend for me to handle,” the woman kindly states, rubbing me the wrong fucking way.

  And speaking about rubbing something, she might as well get things straight. “What he needs to do is rub and suck my cock. Joaquin is not only my friend, he’s one of my two lovers. Though we still have one position wide open, itching to be filled up by both of our cocks. Right, Joaquin?”

  Yes, I admit, my dirty mouth is what scared away caregiver number one. Caregiver number two needed a visual of Joaquin actually sucking my cock to hightail out of the house screaming as she went. And caregiver number three couldn’t take repeatedly walking in on me shamelessly masturbating. Maybe it was the sight of my pierced cock scaring her, whatever; it got the job done. And I think it was a mixture of all of that what sent the fourth one running.

  This caregiver, though? She rolls her eyes and places her bag on the mattress. “I don’t mind the two of you sucking each other off while I check the progress you made and if the injuries are still bothering you. Actually, it’s something I wouldn’t mind looking in on. I’ve seen, and done, more. Freedom of sexuality is exhilarating. So, by all means, suck each other’s dick. Though, like I said…I might simply watch and not work, meaning I’d be here longer.”

  Her well-groomed eyebrow raises in a challenge and my damn cock twitches and starts to tent the fucking sheets.

  Though she won’t ever be looking in on that shit because, “I don’t suck cock, Joaquin does. But we both like to suckle on a pussy if you’re offering to spice things up.”

  “Twice now you’ve mentioned the request for a third party. I know you’ve been practically bedbound for a few weeks. But you should have healed enough to at least walk around the house on crutches or let Joaquin drive you around in the car. I mean, you can’t be that desperate to offer the first…oh, my…all those other caregivers, they didn’t accept your invitation either?” Shit. Even her sweet giggles are cock stroking.

  “No,” I snap. “We didn’t offer. We might have shocked them by showing or telling them about our…how did you put it? Exhilarating sexuality. I guess that was shocking enough to send them running.”

  She looks thoughtful for a moment, opens her bag and says, “Their loss. Now, when was the last time you left this bed for longer than a pee break? Everything healed okay? No infections? No pain other than the soreness of using your limbs the way you should? Anything else happen in the time since they checked you over last?”

  She’s roaming through her bag while my eyes find Joaquin. There’s a smile tugging his lips and he raises one eyebrow. I shoot him a wink in return. Yeah, the both of us more than like this tiny firecracker.

  “Head over to Harlene and Cassidy. I’ll play nice and won’t scare her away,” I tell him and his smile turns into a blinding one.

  The man has a heart bigger than everyone on this fucked-up planet all together. He’s been nothing but understanding while I’ve been here brooding in this bed.

  “Are you sure?” he asks, but he already has one foot out the door.

  “Get out of here. And don’t bring any puppies or kittens home, dammit,” I growl.

  His hand is thrown in the air and he waves my concern away with a simple, “Pssssshhh. You’d crawl to the door if you knew I was coming with a box of orphaned puppies.” His look turns stern when he adds, “Behave.”

  “Don’t I always?” I grumble, earning me a snicker as he heads out the door.

  “You have yourself a sweet man there,” she muses and checks my shoulder.

  Wounds have closed and healed, but it’s the damage on the inside needing the time to heal enough to function to a point where I was before a bullet ripped through it. I can’t put my full weight on my shoulder or my leg yet. My other leg’s ankle is practically healed but it’s not fully capable of carrying all my weight. I’m afraid if I would, I’d have a setback for sure.

  And she’s right about Joaquin. “Sweet, sassy, annoying at times, but there’s one flaw.”

  Her eyes narrow. “People have flaws. Everyone is special in their own way, it’s the flaws creating the difference. If everyone had the same flaws, we’d all be the same dull person, lacking crucial elements someone would fall in love with.”

  “Christ, woman. Don’t get all philosophical on me. I merely wanted to remark the man doesn’t drink coffee in the morning. He’s only been offering me orange juice or a spinach smoothie every fucking morning. I have to text one of my brothers, or one of the old ladies, to come and bring me some.”

  “Holy shit. You’re kidding me? Who doesn’t drink coffee in the morning? My brain doesn’t even function without the black golden goodness. Ugh. I need at least two cups to get my eyes to fully open.” She leans in and whispers while keeping her eyes on the door Joaquin just left through, “Are you sure he’s human?”

  She starts to slide her fingers over my shoulder and with her other hand moves my arm. Gripping the sheets, she tosses them off me to get to my leg. Her eyes aren’t fixed on my leg, though.

  “You can have a closer look, with your lips or tongue for instance.” I can’t help but chuckle when she’s still admiring my cock with open interest.

  “Nice piercing,” she compliments and diverts her eyes and lets her fingertips trail over my legs to check on my other injuries.

  “What’s your name?” I question, suddenly realizing I don’t know a single thing about her. “Mind giving me the file on you? Or just your name and you can hand me my laptop.”

  I’ll run a background check myself or call Decker to do one for me.

  “My file is in the kitchen, but let me give you a short recap. Greta Bostinger, twenty-three, single, high intelligence so I skipped a few grades, went from wanting to become a doctor to being an agent, to now standing here, being a caregiver and making sure I don’t stare at your pierced cock. Very tempting, I must say. Does Joaquin ever let you leave the house? Hmm, is that the reason you’re still bedbound? Is he keeping you under lock and key?”

  “Miss Rattlepants. An agent? Explain,” I demand in an even tone before I reach for my phone on the nightstand and text Decker the name, asking him to run a check.

  “As a kid, I always wanted to become a doctor. My parents were both doctors and retired at an early age. Seemingly not early enough because they only got to enjoy their dream a few years before they died not long after each other. When they died, I realized me wanting to become a doctor was following their footsteps, their dream, not mine. And then I thought becoming an agent was my dream.” She shrugs. “But it turns out to be nothing how I thought it would be. And like I said…I’m standing here, staring at that.” She points at my cock.

  Now it’s my turn to shrug. “I mentioned you’re allowed to do more than stare at it.”

  “Aren’t you and Joaquin together? How can you offer to have sex with me? He was very sweet. I wouldn’t do that to him, and you should have more respect for your man.”

  A snort leaves my body. “M
y man? He’s mine all right, and we have a solid bond between us but if you want to wait until he comes home to suck me off, I won’t complain. If you want to suck him off, even better, but only if I get to watch.”

  She drops the leg she was massaging and plunks her ass down on the bed beside me. “You like to watch? How does that work? Don’t you get jealous to see him with someone else?”

  “Hello, live porn. Why the hell would I get jealous? Joaquin is mine: he won’t ever betray or leave me. We have an understanding. Others might not be able to wrap their mind around it, but we have our ducks in a row.”

  Sounds twisted, I know. But I meant what I said about Joaquin being mine and how we have a solid bond. It’s grown for years and it might have started out as lust evolving into the craving to fuck a woman together, but we always moved on, the both of us…together, yet still looking for the one woman to complete us.

  “That’s special,” she murmurs thoughtfully. “And ducks are cute.”

  “He is special,” I agree, because if it was anyone else with a cock asking me to be in a solid relationship I would walk away. Joaquin’s the only one ever making the craving flame inside me to break a relationship into three pieces of a whole.

  CHAPTER TWO

  – GRETA –

  “Lucky man,” I tell Alfie and give him a beaming smile before patting his injured leg on purpose.

  He growls low and I have to swallow my laughter. I know he’s hurting and still recovering from the injury, but I also know pain can be a motivation and this man needs to get his ass off the bed.

  “Come on, enough talking about your magnificent dick and that man of yours. I’ve brought you a surprise.”

  “You didn’t bring me a surprise, it’s always attached to you. Just open your blouse and show me those lushful looking titties. That’s the surprise, right?” He rubs his hands in glee and I swear he’s holding his hands out the next moment to size up my breasts and to get ready to hold and knead them.