“For a native Californian, you suck at eating burritos,” Mickey said. He smiled and I dropped the rest of my food back in the Styrofoam container with a pout on my face. “But very cute, though,” he teased.
“Why did you get up?” I looked at him. “Did you go out for long?”
Mickey pursed his lips. I thought he was going to tell me not to question what he did, but he said, “I wanted to call my mom.”
The light moment died. “Oh,” I said, feeling kind of awkward. “How is she?”
Mickey shook his head. “Not good,” he replied softly. He looked out the window and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He was so big that he practically dwarfed the table and chairs, and if the mood hadn’t been so somber, it would have made a funny sight.
“Do you have the prognosis?”
Mickey let out a deep sigh. “Six months,” he said flatly. “She had ovarian cancer years ago and beat it, but it came back and it’s worse than before. It’s everywhere now, and she isn’t strong enough to go through chemo. Before, she was so weak that she got a cold and it almost killed her. She doesn’t wanna go through that again, and I can’t blame her. It would be selfish of me to insist she do something that is so obviously unpleasant for her.”
I nodded. “I get that,” I said softly. “I’m sorry, Mickey. I wish I could help.”
Mickey shook his head. He didn’t say anything, and I realized it was the first time I’d seen him acting completely serious. He wasn’t joking or smiling or even winking at me. I knew that his mom’s cancer must be weighing heavily on him. I was sad, and I wanted to help, even though I knew there was nothing I could do. Even if I was already an official doctor, I wouldn’t be able to help. Her cancer sounded like the worst kind of cancer—the kind that’s just too big to get rid of. It was such a common, every day problem. I wanted to fix it with everything in me. I wanted to change the world so no one would die from cancer.
“Is she comfortable?”
Mickey cleared his throat. “I think so,” he said. “She’s in a program that takes her out pretty often with other cancer patients. They go on relaxing day trips to the spa and stuff. It’s a part of the hospice care I signed her up for. And I know she’s not in a lot of pain, at least not most of the time. She refuses to take morphine until the end, but she’s been smoking a lot of medical marijuana. I think it helps a lot.”
I nodded. “That’s good, I’m glad,” I told him. And I meant it, I really did. Even though I’d never met Mickey’s mom, I knew that I’d like her. Any woman strong enough to raise a man like Mickey must have really been something.
Part of me was sad. I knew that this would be the last time I ever saw Mickey. We’d fucked, we’d gotten it out of our systems, and now the affair was over. I didn’t think Mickey could be intimate with someone he’d talked about his mom with. It didn’t seem like him; he wasn’t the kind of guy who shared secrets with women. I should have just kept my mouth shut. Well, Ella, you had your fun, and now it’s over, I thought miserably. Should have known better than to think it would last.
Mickey stood up and stretched. “I need to get going,” he said. His tone was slightly detached, and I felt my stomach twist into knots as I stood up and went over to my clothes. My panties and shirt were ruined, so I twisted the sheet from the bed around my frame until it resembled a lazy maxidress. Mickey grinned but didn’t say anything. He ducked his head in the bathroom and then came out, nodding at me with his head to signal that it was time to go.
The morning was cold and I wrapped myself around Mickey’s body to keep warm as he sped towards my apartment on the bike. By the time we arrived, I was shivering and covered in goose bumps. Mickey gently lifted the helmet off my head and tucked it away in a saddlebag. He leaned in to kiss me, and although it started off as peck, the passion and heat grew between us and Mickey slipped his tongue between my lips. I sucked on it and moaned softly, savoring his taste for what could be the last time.
“You should meet me at the clubhouse tomorrow night,” Mickey said with a grin. “I want to introduce to you to my buddies.”
I gaped at him. “Are you serious?”
“Completely,” Mickey said. He winked at me. “You’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to show you off.”
I blushed deeply. I didn’t believe a word he was saying, but I couldn’t deny that it sounded good to my ears.
“Okay,” I whispered before I could even think about it.
“Good.” Mickey smiled at me. “See you tomorrow, beautiful.”
Chapter Eighteen
Mickey
Shaking my head in disbelief, I watched as Ella strolled up the front walkway of her apartment complex. She had the same delightful little wiggle in her hips that she’d had since I fucked her the first time. I got hard just watching her; it was hard not to slip my hand down the front of my pants and rub my cock to a messy orgasm.
I couldn’t believe that I wanted to introduce her around to the guys. I’d never introduced a chick to The Irish before. Sure, I’d brought some girls around to show them off. Look at this hot piece of ass I’m slamming, I’d say with my eyebrows as I paraded whoever the flavor of the week was around the clubhouse. But I’d never actually wanted of them to talk to my buddies. I knew that the kinds of girls I fucked would embarrass me. They didn’t know shit about me, it was all sex. With Ella, it was different. I didn’t want it to be different, but it was definitely feeling kind of weird. Calling her my girlfriend didn’t sit right with me, either. Because she wasn’t really my girlfriend. She was…well, she was just Ella. That was all that seemed to fit her. Whenever she was around, my cock was stiff and my heart was pounding and that was pretty much all I really cared about.
When I got back to the clubhouse, I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. I knew I was swaggering around with the motion of a man who’d been well-laid, but I couldn’t help it. That smug smirk was second nature when Ella was in my mind. She was incredible, she was so hot, she was perfect. Stop it, asshole, pull yourself together. She’s a chick. She’s just a chick. I shook my head. She’s not just an ‘anything,’ and you know it.
“Yo,” Mason said loudly as he clapped me on the back. “We hadn’t seen you in days, brother. What’s been going on?”
I grinned. “I got a little snatch,” I said, closing my eyes and thinking of Ella’s sweet body. Her soft brown hair, the way her face flushed with an orgasm, the way she screamed my name.
“Yo, earth to Jameson,” Mason said. He punched me in the arm, a little harder than necessary. “You wanna tell me more about this snatch?”
“She’s not just pussy,” I said, looking around the clubhouse. For the first time, I imagined it the way Ella might see it: dingy, overly male, too many gaudy skulls everywhere. I was proud of it, but at the same time I knew chicks could find it intimidating. Well, Ella sure found me intimidating. But obviously not enough to scare her away. I didn’t even know what I hoped to accomplish by bringing her around, but I had to admit that it was a pretty amazing idea.
“Sure,” Mason scoffed. “You ever said that before about a girl?”
I thought about it. “I actually don’t think I have. She’s the first. She’s…different, man. She drives a rig, she goes to med school. She’s so fuckin’ sexy and she doesn’t even know it.”
Mason gave me a dopey grin. “You’re in love, you ass,” he said playfully, jabbing me in the side again. “What else do you need to say?”
I didn’t reply. Maybe he was right, but I didn’t want to think about love right now. No more L-words, except lust. Without saying anything, I stretched and walked over to the bar. Jimmy was sitting there with some of the other guys, and they slid me a shot of tequila and a tall can of beer as I hopped on a stool.
“So, Mickey, word is everyone knows you’re back,” Jimmy said. “How you wanna approach this?”
I thought it over. If I was going to retake my seat as president of The Irish, everyone was going to find ou
t sooner or later that I was still alive. But I wasn’t sure if now was the right time. It made more sense to stay hidden for a few days.
“I need to just hang out here for a while,” I told Jimmy. “You know, man, lay low. It’ll give us some time to think about how we’re going to oust those asshole cops, and see what we can do to get Dos Palmos back under control.”
Jimmy nodded. “You’re always welcome here, man,” he said, clapping me on the back. He thumped me so hard that I choked on the beer. “You know that.”
Nodding, I got up and carried my bag into one of the back rooms. In the past, I’d loved crashing at the club. Free booze, free pussy, free smokes. Lots of fun, all the time. But now all I could think about was Ella. I wondered what she was doing. I wondered when her class started. I really wanted to see her, and I knew that I was going to go crazy if I couldn’t get a hint of her sweet strawberry scent.
The next couple of days passed in a blur. I helped Mason revarnish the bar in the clubhouse and we did some touch-up painting. It looked much better than I thought it would, but the work went at a snail’s pace. After the weekend, I was going stir-crazy. I hadn’t been outside in days, and I hadn’t talked to Ella since I’d dropped her off at home after our “date.” I still got rock hard thinking about it—mostly thinking about the way she’d rubbed her sweet little snatch, but just thinking about her in general threatened to do that to me. I wondered if I’d ever feel normal again. Ella had stolen my brain—and my heart?—and I knew that life would probably never be the same.
The next day, I couldn’t stand it. I went to my room and texted Ella.
I miss you. Come by the clubhouse later. I know someone else who misses you, too. ;)
The little dots appeared, disappeared, then reappeared at the bottom of my screen. When I got Ella’s response text, I felt my dick harden in my jeans.
;) See you later, then.
Goddammit. This girl was trouble. She was going to make me lose my mind. She was going to make me act crazy, act like a fool.
With a grim smirk, I realized that I was already hers. She just didn’t know it yet. But if I had my way, by the end of the night, she’d be well aware.
Chapter Nineteen
Ella
I’d spent the last few days on pins and needles. Mickey hadn’t called. He hadn’t texted, and when I’d texted him, he hadn’t responded. I’d been feeling so nervous and almost hating myself. After all, was this how it was going to end? With a night of amazing sex in a shitty motel and then I’d never hear from him again?
Ugh. I was mad at Mickey for ignoring me and even more mad at myself for caring. I had no business dogging after him the way I had; it was unseemly. More than unseemly, it was something that really couldn’t have an endgame. What was I going to do? Drop out of medical school and become some biker chick?
I snorted drily. There was no way The Irish would ever accept me as one of their own. I had a feeling that even if I waltzed in their clubhouse wearing leather chaps and a biker jacket, they’d still know I was an imposter. I had no business hanging out with people like that. Mickey was just proof of something I already knew: we came from entirely different worlds, and there was no way to reconcile our differences.
When he finally got in touch me with, I was ashamed to say that my heart started pounding in my chest like a rocket. I couldn’t believe that he wanted me to come over. I was so flustered that all I could do in response was send a winky face—at least he would think I was being funny. Or flirtatious? I didn’t know; talking to men had never been my strong point.
I got dressed in a tank top and jeans and met him outside. I didn’t have anything nicer, but I still wanted to make sure I looked good for Mickey. When he pulled up on his bike, I felt my groin give a start of arousal. He pulled off his helmet and the breeze ruffled his blond hair. My mouth went dry as Mickey climbed off his bike and extended a hand towards me.
“We can take my rig,” I said. “I actually have to get it tuned up tomorrow anyway. Get ready to get back on the road after my anatomy class is over.”
“Whatever you say, boss lady,” Mickey said with a lazy grin. I rolled my eyes and climbed in behind the wheel. I didn’t normally drive my rig when I wasn’t on a run, but I wanted to have it checked out before putting it in storage for a couple of months. It was still hard to believe that at some point, I was going to have to leave Dos Palmos again. You mean leave Mickey, I thought to myself. And we all know you don’t want to do that.
Mickey fiddled with the radio the whole time. He finally settled on a loud country song and began to sing along with the radio, turning it up and rolling down the window. He let the breeze blow through his hair and I got the feeling he enjoyed riding as a passenger. Not that I could blame him; there was only so much time I could spend on a bike myself.
When we got to the clubhouse, I felt nervous again. I parked the rig close to the building and hopped out, giving an exaggerated yawn and stretch as I did so.
“You wanna go inside?” Mickey raised his eyebrows. “Get a drink? Say hi to the guys?” He looked at me with a roguish grin and I felt my insides melting into a horny puddle.
I shook my head. Mickey grabbed my hand and led me around the back of the clubhouse. I wasn’t expecting to see anything there, but there was a little trailer with a lock on the door.
“We hang out here sometimes,” Mickey said with a sly grin. Suddenly, I knew what he meant. I frowned.
“You mean you bring girls here,” I pointed out.
“Just you,” he promised. “Come on.”
Mickey tugged me inside and flipped the lights on. “My guys are gonna keep an eye out for anything that goes down while we’re in here,” he said. “Don’t be afraid. I promise you’ll be well taken care of while you’re here.”
I nodded. I was scared, but if I was telling the truth, it was actually kind of exciting. Not because I thought anything bad was really going to happen, but Mickey had a way of assuring me with his masculinity. I felt safe when I was with him, even if the most dangerous thing that could happen was a snake slithering by on the ground. Without waiting for me to step further inside, Mickey reached down and scooped me up. He slung his arm under my knees and carried me across the threshold of the trailer. Inside, there was a couch and a table with some snacks.
“They thought we might get hungry,” Mickey explained. He popped a beer open and poured half of it down his throat. Then he set the can down with a clink and wiped the mouth with the back of his hand. With a boyish grin, he looked at me. “Sorry,” he said. “I was thirsty.”
I giggled nervously. Mickey gently pushed me to the side and got to work pulling the pillows off of the couch. Just as I thought he was about to throw me down on the ground, he reached down and tugged the couch into a pullout bed. There were already sheets on it and he set the pillows back with a satisfied grin.
“So I hear you missed me,” I said softly. I blushed. Was I flirting? Was this what it felt like to flirt? As Mickey grinned at me and stepped closer, I felt my heart start to thud against my chest. His lips were instantly on mine. He tasted like musk and beer. I closed my eyes as Mickey’s tongue wormed its way into my mouth. He was deliciously warm like always, and as he wrapped his arms around me and carried me to bed, I felt a low moan escape my lips.
“I want you,” I said softly into his ear. Mickey pulled away and stared into my eyes. His navy orbs were the most beautiful that I’d ever seen, and I loved the way he looked at me. “I want you to go down on me,” I said softly. “Please, Mickey. Please.”
Mickey licked his lips. Without any warning, he tossed me back on the sofa bed and crawled after me. His hands were tugging my jeans down before I knew what was happening. Mickey tossed my pants over his head and leaned down. He nuzzled the crotch of my panties and closed his eyes, breathing in my scent. It didn’t even occur to me to be embarrassed; all I could think about was how much I wanted his tongue on my clit. With practiced, strong hands, Mickey tore my panties in
half. I grinned wryly to myself. If this kept up, I was going to be out of underwear in a week.
Mickey shoved my legs apart with his rough hands. He nuzzled at my labia and slowly licked a wet trail from my mound to the entrance of my pussy. I shivered and yelped as Mickey slid a finger inside. I was already soaked and his ministrations made me feel amazing. Pleasure sparked in my lower belly and radiated outwards as Mickey began to suck and lick until I was squealing. It felt so good, like being rubbed with a damp washcloth. Mickey’s scruff tugged at the sensitive skin of my pussy and I cried out with pleasure as he slipped another finger inside and began to wriggle it around. As he sucked on my clit, I buried my hands in his air. I was aware of my hips moving and grinding against his face; even when I tried to stay still, the urge for pleasure overtook me. Mickey sucked at my clit so hard that my eyes rolled back in my head. I gasped and seized as an orgasm came over me like wildfire. I wasn’t even aware of it happening, but I was suddenly filled with so much pleasure that I couldn’t take it. It wasn’t like coming from sex—it was almost better because Mickey was doing all the work when I was just lying there. My body was bucking and shaking on the bed and I cried Mickey’s name loudly as he relentlessly pleasured me.
Lucky: The Irish MC Page 14
