Lucky: The Irish MC

Home > Other > Lucky: The Irish MC > Page 4
Lucky: The Irish MC Page 4

by West, Heather


  “Damn,” I muttered aloud, kicking at a rock with my toe. It really was a shame. The most gorgeous little thing I’d seen in months and she was acting as ornery as a scalded cat. I could really scald her cat, I thought with a grin. Or at least her pussy.

  “What’s going on?” Ella called loudly, cupping her cute pink mouth with her hands. “Did you find them?”

  “Not yet,” I yelled back. “The fence has been cut, though.”

  Ella jogged over and I tried not to stare at her little tits bouncing around perkily. She got to my side, flushed and out of breath, and I watched in amusement as she bent over and rested her hands on her knees.

  “Sorry,” she said, panting. “I’m kinda out shape. Comes with the trucking and all.”

  I chuckled. “I can think of a way to get you back in shape,” I said, raising my eyebrows. She gave me a confused look. “By riding me,” I clarified. “I’m better than a horse.”

  Ella opened her mouth to protest but all that came out was an indignant squawk. I watched an adorable pink flush cover her cheeks but all she could do was squeal and say, “Oh, you!”

  I laughed. “I know. I think I’m funny too, baby.”

  Ella rolled her eyes and turned around. “Where did they cut the fence?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Over here,” I said, pointing in the direction I’d found the slash. We walked over to re-examine the area. On second look, I didn’t seen any footprints or tracks on the ground. The moon was almost overhead now, shining silvery-white over the land. In the distance, a coyote howled. Ella shivered and rubbed her hands over her arms. Even in my jacket, I could tell that she was still freezing.

  “Can you hurry up?” She wrinkled her nose again. “Or maybe I can call the cops or something. They might be able to help.”

  “No!” I barked, louder than I meant to. She looked up at me in wide-eyed surprise. “I mean, sorry. Just let me look for a few more minutes, I’ll be able to handle it on my own.”

  “That’s what they all say,” she grunted. Ella rolled her eyes and hiked up the short embankment. “I don’t see anything over here,” she pointed out. “Come look.”

  I heaved my way up the side of the hill that Ella had so gracefully scurried up. She was like a cute little mountain goat. Looking over the horizon, I saw no traces of activity. Damn. What the hell happened to Mason and Jimmy?

  “Do you have a phone?” Ella asked. She was picking at her cuticle. “Can you call them?”

  I shook my head. “Only thing I got on me is my wallet,” I said with a guilty grin. “Sorry. Do you? Can I use yours?”

  “Yeah, do you know their numbers?”

  I deflated. “No,” I said. “Shit.”

  “What about the number of the clubhouse?”

  I shook my head. “Sorry,” I said. “I used to, but I forgot. Haven’t been calling them in a few months.”

  Ella narrowed her eyes at me. “What’s going on, exactly?” she asked in a strained voice. “Why do I have the feeling I don’t really know what you’re up to?”

  “I’ll tell you all about it when we’re inside somewhere, having a drink,” I said, raking a hand through my hair. “But right now I really need to find those guys.”

  Ella looked at her watch in the moonlight. I couldn’t read the time, but judging by her expression, it was getting late. The way her little face puckered and pursed when she was thinking hard was making me hot. I wanted to wipe all the thoughts from that brain of hers except for thoughts of me. I wanted to be her one consuming need, her one desire. Every time she looked up at me with her warm brown eyes, I melted inside. Or at least my cock started to get hard. Basically the same thing, right?

  “I just really don’t think we should stick around here,” Ella said in a low voice. “I’ve never been here past closing. I can’t imagine the shit that goes on around here is sane and healthy.”

  “Probably not,” I agreed. “Get back to your rig. I’ll do one final loop and then we can go.”

  “We can go?” Ella smirked at me. “We? What makes you think I’m taking you along?”

  “’Cause you can’t resist me, honey,” I told with her a flash of a smile.

  Ella rolled her eyes. “Something like that,” she muttered. “But I’m not a fucking smuggler,” she added. “So think about finding your own ride back.” With that, she turned on her heel and walked promptly away to her rig. I watched her ass swing from side to side and felt my cock twitching inside of my jeans.

  “Oh, I’ll find my own ride, honey,” I said under my breath when she was far enough away. “Trust me. I’ll be riding you for a long, long time.”

  When Ella had hopped back inside of her truck, I scurried around the area and scouted for any sign of the guys. There was nothing, not even a boot print in the dust. I couldn’t believe they’d just abandoned me like this. After all, we’d only finalized the plans yesterday. They couldn’t have already forgotten! It wasn’t like them, not at all. That was the kind of thing we might do to mess with a prospect or punish one of the guys for acting out. But it definitely wasn’t the kind of behavior they’d greet their exiled leader with.

  I frowned. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. And I was going to figure it out.

  Chapter Five

  Ella

  While lunkhead was trying to figure out what happened to his buddies, I was frantically digging through my cab for my phone. I hadn’t seen it in hours, and I was wondering if I hadn’t kicked it under the seat when I was digging for the crowbar. Frantically, I got to my hands and knees and dug around under the bench. My hands groped past the same trash they had before, but not the hard little glass nub of my phone. Finally, I heard something buzzing above me. When I jerked my head upwards, I hit it on the bottom of the head.

  “Shit!” I yelped loudly as pain bloomed in my vision. “Fuck!”

  Righting myself, I dug around in my bag on the seat until I found my phone. It was ringing, an unknown number on the caller ID. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I didn’t answer it. Probably another debt collector, I thought. Fucking credit cards. Part of the money from rigging went to paying off my bills. In another life, I’d tried going to college without subsidizing myself with trucking. It hadn’t gone well; I’d flunked two classes the first semester and I’d been outraged when I still had to pay for them. After all, it wasn’t my fault that the TA spoke horrible English and I could barely understand him. I’d been outraged at the university after that, but it had taken a long time for me to finally step away. After I’d quit college, I’d drifted for a couple of years. Bartended here and there, did some waitressing. But nothing even came close to the income I would have been making as someone with a degree, and I knew deep down that I’d have to go back to school. I finally hit bottom when I was twenty-five and I’d been stuck in Dos Palmos for over a year, waitressing at a crab shack not too far away from where I was now. The pay had been crap and the tips had been worse; did no one understand that service personnel have to make a living, too? Either way, I’d gotten evicted from my apartment when I couldn’t pay rent, and I’d lived in my car for a couple of weeks. That was enough to jolt me back into reality. If I was going to try to live alone, I needed to really make it easier for myself.

  That was where the rigging came in. A friend of my late parents had been a trucker, and he’d retired in a little cabin outside of Dos Palmos. I was desperate, dirty, and broke, but I hitched a ride out there and miraculously, he’d remembered me. I still remember the look he’d given me when I’d shown up at his door.

  “Is that you? Eric and Kathy’s girl?”

  I nodded. “My name’s Ella,” I told him shyly. “I know I haven’t seen you in a long time, but thanks for agreeing to meet me here. I really appreciate it.”

  He laughed. “Of course, honey,” he said. “And don’t call me any of that Mr. Depuey business. It’s Paul. Or Uncle Paul. Whichever you like.”

  I liked the old man. He’d
been a great friend of my dad’s—I remembered them playing card games until the wee hours of the morning. My mom would practically have to drag my dad away to bed to get him to stop. Paul had always shown up with a little gift, some kind of candy or hair barrettes or something. He’d made such an effort to be sweet to me. Later, Mom told me that he didn’t have of a family. “We have to be kind to him,” she said. “He really helped your dad and me out when we were in a tough spot.”

  Paul looked at me. “So, what can I do for you, little lady? You look like you’re in need of a big meal, for one.”

  I blushed and looked away, feeling ashamed. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

  Paul wouldn’t hear another word of my troubles until after he’d run me a hot bath, washed my clothes, and fixed me a big plate of mashed potatoes and chicken fried steak. I gobbled everything down. Normally, I would have been embarrassed, but it tasted too good for me to even think about how ridiculous I was being.

  “So, Ella, what can I do for you?”

  “I need to start driving a truck,” I said.

  Paul gave me a funny look. “Are you sure? That’s a tough job, Ella. It’s not even something a lot of men can do. There’s a lot of monotony, and a lot of instability. And it’s not safe out there for a woman, especially not a tiny little thing like you.”

  “I’m not tiny,” I bristled. “I took karate when I was younger. I’m sure I could defend myself.”

  Paul shook his head. He started to chuckle, but when he saw my murderous glare, he stopped. “Okay,” he said. “So you want to start trucking. Why? What happened?”

  I shrugged and rolled my eyes at once. “I don’t know,” I said finally. “Everything. Everything happened. I got kicked out of school and I can’t keep a bartending job because I don’t flirt back and I can’t keep a waitressing job because I’m not sweet enough, and no one can hire me for anything else. I have no skills. I know how to drive, though.”

  Paul gave me a long, hard look. “Are you capable of taking care of yourself for long periods of time? That’s a necessary thing in this industry,” he said. “But if you are, you’ll be good to go. Just need to keep yourself focused and on the job.”

  I nodded. “I can do that,” I said. “And I have a plan. I don’t want to drive a truck forever, but I need to go back to college. I’ve always wanted to go to med school and be a doctor, and this is the only way I can pay for tuition.”

  Paul nodded. “It’s good to have an end game when you go into something like this,” he said. “That’s good, that’s real good. I’m proud of you, honey. I know your parents would be proud, too.”

  Tears pricked at my eyes and I had to look away. “I don’t know about that,” I said finally. “I feel like such a failure.”

  “You’re not a failure, honey,” Paul said. “I’ll help you get back on your feet. You know I still own my rig out there?” He pointed to the side yard and I saw a gigantic semi truck parked next to his tiny little house. “I’d be willing to let you rent it from me, for as long as you need.”

  My jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me? I can’t believe that!” I squealed. But after a moment, I realized that I couldn’t take him up on his generosity like that. It was too much; there was no way I could accept something so huge.

  “She’s yours,” Paul said with a grin. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t take that,” I said miserably. “What if something happened? I’d be responsible.”

  Paul gave me a serious look. “I have insurance,” he said. “Everything would be taken care of. We could come up with just enough for you to feel like you were actually helping me out. How does that sound?”

  I shook my head. “It still feels like too big of an offer,” I told him truthfully. “I’m just not sure I deserve it at this point in life. And besides, I haven’t even gotten into medical school yet.”

  “You will. I promise. I’ll help you.”

  I frowned. “What are you talking about? What do you know about medical school?”

  Paul laughed and I blushed when I realized how rude I’d sounded. “I don’t know anything about it,” he admitted gruffly. “But I know how to help people study. I helped your Ma when she was going for her realtor’s license, and she passed with flying colors.”

  I swallowed hard. “Okay,” I said suddenly, feeling scared and excited and anxious at once. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  The next six months I’d spent living with Paul. He tried to offer me the room rent-free, but I wouldn’t take that, so instead I helped him out with cooking and cleaning. His arthritis was getting too bad to do too much around the house, so I was happy to take over and make things nice, clean, and homey for him. Truth be told, I wasn’t much of a cook, but Paul loved baked ziti and roasted chicken breast, and thankfully I could make both of those dishes. After I was done with the chores at the end of the day, I’d sit down with my textbooks and study while Paul watched TV. I knew that I’d have a really hard time getting into a good med school since I’d dropped out of college, so I had to lower my expectations just a little. But with Paul’s help, I found a satellite campus of University of California right outside Dos Palmos. Unbelievably, the first time I applied, I got in. I still remembered the day like it was yesterday. I’d come home with the acceptance letter in my hand, cheering and crowing. Paul had somehow guessed that I was gong to get in, and he’d prepared a feast with chicken fried steak and a big dessert. That night, I felt happier than I’d felt in a long time.

  Now, sitting in the front seat of my rig, I couldn’t believe that it was coming to a close. Only a few more semesters and then I was done, I’d be a real doctor. I couldn’t ever think of how to repay Paul for all of his kindnesses to me, but I figured that medical care at home in his comfortable cabin would be a good place to start. I couldn’t wait to start repaying him for all of the little things. During my first few rough months of rigging, Paul hadn’t even accepted any money for his truck. I was ashamed; part of me felt like I’d taken too much advantage of his kindness. But the other part of me felt like he’d been put in my life for a reason. Either way, I intended to spend the rest of my days helping him as much as I could, whenever he needed it. After all, Paul was the closest thing to a family or a friend that I had.

  The moon was stretching high overhead and I looked for any sign of Mickey. He was still prowling around in the boulders outside of the yard, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him and his muscular bod. He was one of the sexiest men I’d ever seen, and although I hated to admit it, his arrogance really turned me on. There was something amazingly hot about a guy who knew he could please you even if he knew nothing else about you. I shivered when I closed my eyes and thought about all of the dirty things that Mickey could do to me. Stop it, Ella, I ordered myself. You don’t even know this guy. He could be dangerous, really dangerous!

  Shivering, I pulled his jacket closer around me. As much as I hated to admit it, it smelled amazing. Like tobacco and sweat and musk. Like man. I imagined Mickey’s body would smell the same way, only stronger. When I closed my eyes and envisioned the two of us tangled up together, fucking hard, I shuddered. Darts of pleasure swarmed through my lower belly and I let out a low moan, safe in the confines of the cab. You talk to one man and you’re already fantasizing about him fucking you so raw that you can’t walk for a week. Pull it together, Ella.

  I shook my head to clear my mind of the torrid fantasy. It didn’t go away so easily, and by the time Mickey was walking back towards the truck, I felt a throbbing in my crotch. Damn it, I thought, shifting around in the seat. This isn’t going to go away on its own. All plans of relaxation were dashed; it was already past nine o’clock. I probably wouldn’t get home until midnight at this rate, and I wouldn’t be able to take my mind off the handsome, hulky stranger who had somehow smuggled his way into the back of my truck. Thinking of the word ‘smuggled,’ even in a funny context, reminded me that this wasn’t to be taken lightly. What
if he’d done something illegal? Could I be implicated?

  At last, Mickey reached the cab. “Hey,” I told him shortly. “I found my phone. I’m gonna call the cops. They need to know about this.” As I talked, I toyed with my phone in my hands, eventually calling the non-emergency number for Dos Palmos. Before I even saw what he was doing, Mickey launched himself into the cab and grabbed my phone away from me. I cried out and struggled against him, but ultimately he was both stronger and quicker than I was. We tussled for a moment and I yanked my arm back just as he pulled me into his arms and wrapped his hand over my mouth. I tried to cry out but his fingers were clamping against me tight as anything and it just came out as a muffled shriek.

  “Stay,” Mickey said, with a sexy lopsided grin. He took his hand away from my mouth and looked at me expectantly.

 

‹ Prev