“Ella, stop,” I said. My voice was dry and my heart was pounding in my chest. “Unless you want me to crash this rig into the trees, stop right now.”
Ella grinned at me. “I want to tease you,” she said in a soft, singsong voice. “I want to make you hard, Mickey.”
I reached over and grabbed her free hand, rubbing it over my crotch. Ella gasped when she felt my erection but she kept her hand there and gently began rubbing me through my jeans. I could feel the heat from her hand and the sensation was amazing. I was barely aware of my foot pressing down even harder on the gas pedal, and I let out a grunt as Ella increased the speed of her ministrations.
“Am I making you feel good?” Ella asked in the same voice.
I growled and swiped her hand away. “I have to drive,” I said, breathing hard. “And you’re going to get punished for that later, little girl.”
Ella pulled her hand out of her pants. She kept her eyes on me as she licked her fingers, one by one. My cock throbbed, begging for release.
“Yes, Daddy,” Ella said in the same sweet voice. “Whatever you say.”
I was dying to fuck her by the time we pulled up at the cabin. But there was a familiar car in the driveway, and my heart skipped a beat when I realized whose it was.
“Mom!” I cried as we burst into the cabin. “How did you get up here?”
When my mom turned the corner and spotted me, my mouth went dry and my stomach churned with anxiety. I hadn’t seen her in almost a year, and she looked terrible. Mom had always been generously curvy but the chemo had made her look like a stick. She was wearing a kerchief on her head and she had bruises all over her exposed arms.
“Don’t say anything,” she said in the same kindly stern voice that she’d used when I was a boy. “I know I look terrible.”
I rushed across the room and scooped her up in my arms. Mom had always been a great hugger, but now she was so small that she disappeared in my arms. She clung on tight and I smelled her familiar scent—tobacco and chamomile tea.
“Don’t tell me you’re still smoking,” I said, glaring at her. “Don’t you know how dangerous that is for you?”
Mom pulled back and rolled her eyes. “Honey, I don’t have much time left, I intend to do what I please,” she said with a trace of her old humor. “And just who is this?”
I blushed. I’d completely forgotten about Ella at my side. “Mom, this is Ella,” I said proudly. “She’s my girlfriend.”
Ella looked at me with wide eyes. I wondered if she was remembering her little scene in the car. Without breaking stride, she turned towards Mom.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” Ella said politely. She offered her hand for Mom to shake but Mom pulled her into a big hug. Ella was small, but she looked like a giantess next to Mom’s radiation-wasted body. It was hard not to feel horrendously guilty looking at my mother. I had no idea that chemo would hurt someone as much as it had obviously hurt her.
“Mickey,” Mom beamed. “It’s so nice to see you with someone,” she added. “Especially someone as nice as this young lady.”
Ella blushed bright red. “I’m not that young,” she said under her breath.
“I needed you two to meet,” I said. “Mom, how did you get up here?”
“Your friend Jimmy called me last night,” Mom said. There was a hint of a devilish gleam in her eye—the same gleam that I’d inherited. “He seemed to think it was very important that I come up here right now. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. Mickey, you’ve always had very stubborn friends but last night was really a new high for that.”
I made a mental note to thank Jimmy later, with a bottle of bourbon. “He was completely right,” I told her honestly. “You did need to be here today.”
Mom frowned. “Don’t tell me you boys are in trouble again,” she said softly, wagging a bony finger at me. “I don’t even want to hear about any of those shenanigans.”
Having Mom chastise me in front of Ella didn’t feel great. “I know, Mom,” I said, feeling exasperated. “Things are fine, I promise. Let’s just get you settled in.”
Mom collapsed into a chair, sighing loudly and putting her feet up on the ottoman. Ella wasted no time in perching next to her, asking if she needed anything to drink. I grinned. I loved that Ella was already sucking up to Mom; I could tell the two of them would really get along when it came down to it. Ella was sweet, smart, and she was almost a doctor. What wasn’t to like?
The roar of the bikes filled my ears and I saw all of the guys pulling into the front yard. I directed them around back and they hid their bikes among the shrubs and trees. Jimmy walked over to me, grinning. He clapped me on the back.
“I got the old lady up here,” he said. “Just like you would have wanted. Man, she was so fuckin’ stubborn!”
“Where do you think I get it from?” I cracked drily. “Mom and I are two of a kind.”
“Boss, don’t worry,” Jimmy said in a lower tone. “I know you’re beating yourself up about what happened, and we never got a chance to talk. Things are gonna be just fine. We’ll always protect you and your family, you know that, brother.” He clapped me on the back again and walked away, whistling under his breath the whole time.
I shook my head, turning around and taking in the beauty of the woods around us. I couldn’t believe it. I’d just come back from exile and I was already thinking about leaving. Part of me was sad. I’d loved being president of the MC, and I’d loved being an outlaw. There was something thrilling and dangerous about it, and I’d been naturally good at it. It was in my blood. But if it came between me and Ella, well, that was it. I wanted a chance with her, a real chance. And this was the best I was going to get. If I didn’t take it now, I had a feeling I’d regret it for the rest of my life.
Chapter Twenty Five
Ella
I couldn’t believe how calm Mickey was about everything. I was freaking the fuck out. I’d never been this scared in my life and I had no idea what was happening. My anatomy class was supported to start the very next day, but I already knew I wouldn’t be able to make it. I’d be lucky if I could get in touch with anyone at school and drop out of the class in time to get a refund. This had been a fun adventure, but when it started making me push back my medical school goals, I was ready to call it quits.
Or, I had been ready. Until Mickey said all of that about having a future with me and without the club. I couldn’t believe it, it was everything that I wanted him to say, but hearing it out loud made me feel like it was really surreal. After all, I had no idea what I was going to do. Stay with Mickey, holed up in the woods with his club and his mom? I could have laughed. What about school? What about rigging?
I looked out the window of the cabin and stared at my rig. It already seemed like a dream that I’d driven it around the country on my own. I shook my head. Yeah, a dream, right. A weird, dirty dream where I didn’t shower for days on end and lived on gas station Hostess cupcakes. At one point, I’d been more than convinced of my independence. After all, you don’t get to be thirty-one without making a few enemies along the way. But most people had friends, and I didn’t even have those. The only person in my life besides Mickey was Paul, and I knew he wouldn’t be around for long. Paul was in a nursing home. The last time I went to see him, he didn’t even recognize me. It was disheartening, even when the nurses told me that it was actually pretty normal. I’d hated myself—I couldn’t even endear myself to a little old man! But afterwards, I’d honestly felt kind of relieved. If I didn’t have an obligation to be Paul’s only living family, that meant I didn’t owe anyone anything.
The only person I’d owed for a long time was myself. I’d promised myself that I’d make it through medical school no matter what, and that was beginning to seem like an impossibility. I couldn’t even find the time to think about school, much less remember to study. Between Mickey’s hot body, my growing lustful urges, and the danger the club was in, I knew that my life wouldn’t return to normal for a very lo
ng time.
Part of me doubted that Mickey could really do it. It was one thing to say that he wanted out, but it was another entirely to follow through. The MC was his life, and it had every right to be. After all, his dad had been the president. Mickey had basically inherited the patch as much as he’d done anything else to earn it. I had no doubt that he was a good leader, but I wondered how directionless he’d become after his involvement with the club was over. After all, the club had been his whole life. He’d grown up surrounded by the MC. I had difficulty believing that he was willing to throw all of that away, especially for a girl he’d barely known for a week.
It didn’t matter what he said to me in the heat of the moment, I decided. Setting my jaw, I stared out the window. The guys were goofing around and hiding their bikes under brushes. It looked like something out of a movie: the big, tough bikers laughing and tossing ferns at each other. I had to laugh, it was just such an improbable sight. And here I was, smack in the middle of the whole scene. Me. Ella. Normal, boring Ella was somehow enticing the sexiest guy I’d ever seen to fuck every night. I pinched myself. This had to be a dream.
Mickey walked across the yard, flexing his muscles. One of the guys called out to him and he called something back, a big dopey grin on his tanned face. I felt my heart pound as I watched him cover the grass with big, purposeful strides. No doubt about it, Mickey was a man. He was a real man, not like the guys in med school who were afraid of getting their hands dirty. He was an outlaw. He was a criminal. He was everything that I’d ever wanted.
I stepped back from the glass far enough to see my reflection. I still didn’t see what made me so appealing to Mickey. As far as I could tell, I looked ordinary and I always had. But I was starting to feel like that didn’t really matter. Who cared if I was plain, as long as Mickey thought the opposite? Who cared if I liked how I looked? Mickey made me feel both confident and sexy. I knew that I’d never look like some sex goddess, but at least I could act like one.
Blushing, I remembered the way I’d acted in the car. It was so unlike me to do something like that, but I hadn’t been able to help it. Something about the extreme stress of the situation and being locked up in the cab with Mickey was just such a turn-on. I shivered, remembering the way his eyes had stayed glued to my body. I was starting to learn how to really pleasure myself, and the knowledge made me feel sexier than ever before. I longed to be alone with Mickey, to let him take me.
I closed my eyes and imagined Mickey “punishing” me. He’d probably throw me across his lap and spank me. Just thinking about it made me wet: I could feel the crotch of my panties soaked with moisture after a few seconds. Mickey always elicited that response from me; it was like it was impossible to be anything other than horny when he was around. Grinning to myself, I looked out at the woods. At least there wasn’t a bunch of neighbors around to hear us.
“Dear, can I get you something?” I heard a soft voice behind me and turned around to see Mickey’s mom.
“No, I’m fine,” I said, blushing hotly. And I was just thinking about your son screwing my brains out, I thought, blushing even harder.
If Mickey’s mom could read my mind, she showed no sign of it. “I was just about to sit down and have some tea,” she said quietly. “Would you like to join me?”
“Of course,” I said automatically. “But let me get it. You stay right here.” I pointed at the worn-but-comfortable couch in the corner of the room. “I’ll be right back.”
Mickey’s mom settled down on the couch with a slight cry of pain. I could tell that her cancer was advanced. She had trouble walking around the room and I knew her joints were swollen and stiff. She was so thin from the chemo that I was surprised she was still going through with it. In medical school, we learned a lot about palliative care as well as restorative, and I was surprised that Mickey’s mom hadn’t opted for that. She was so frail, so thin.
In the kitchen, I bustled around making tea. I raided the cabinets for snacks—there was more food on hand than I thought there would be, but there wasn’t a ton. Knowing that cancer patients should have a lot of antioxidants, I made Mickey’s mom a platter with some fresh fruit and chocolate-covered blueberries. When I was finished, I carried everything into the living room and pulled up a TV tray.
Mickey’s mom was sitting with her eyes closed. She looked peaceful, and for a moment I thought she was sleeping. Then she opened her eyes—big blue eyes, like Mickey’s—and smiled at me. When she saw the platter of snacks, she let out a little cry of delight.
“Dear, thank you so much,” she said softly. “I didn’t want to bother you, but I was starting to get hungry.”
“That’s good,” I praised her. “It’s good to keep your strength up.”
For a moment, we sat in silence while she munched at the fruit. It wasn’t exactly awkward, but I realized I didn’t know anything about her. The only things Mickey had told me were the stories about their trips to the cabin. I realized that I knew more about his dad, but still not a ton.
“I’m so glad Mickey’s settled down,” she said, beaming at me. “And you can call me Thelma, if you’d like. I don’t think Mickey actually told you my name.”
“He didn’t,” I said blushing. “Thelma. That’s nice. It suits you.”
She wrinkled her nose and I saw a trace of the same spitfire attitude that Mickey had. “It sounds like a damn cow,” she argued. “But it’s me, so here I am.”
I smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, too,” I told her. “I wish I could say I knew more about you and your family, but I just met Mickey last week. We, uh, met at the yard after I was finishing a run.”
Thelma looked at me with wide blue eyes. “You mean to tell me that the rig out there is yours?” Her tone was incredulous and I couldn’t help but feel a measure of pride. “That’s not very typical, especially for someone as delicate as you.”
“I’m not that delicate,” I said hastily. “And yeah, it was the only job I could manage to keep. I don’t do it all year, but I’m putting myself through school. I rig for a few months, then take a semester of classes. I only have two semesters left.”
Thelma took a sip of her tea and settled back against the couch. “And just what are you studying, dear?”
I blushed again. “I’m in medical school,” I said. “But, um, I’m really not qualified yet.”
Thelma sighed. “The last thing I want to do is talk about my health,” she said lightly. I took the hint and moved on.
“What was Mickey like growing up?”
Thelma’s thin, pretty face took on a dreamlike quality. “Oh, he was just the best little boy you could imagine,” she said. “He was always so helpful and so rambunctious! He had so much energy, he made the rest of us look lazy in comparison. The only person who could ever keep up with him was his dad,” she added, smiling wistfully. “To see the two of them together was really a sight. No matter how busy his father was, he always took time for Mickey. They used to love taking walks together and throwing a ball back and forth. Shane and I weren’t the best parents in the world; we both felt so ill-equipped to raise a kid. We got pregnant after we’d only been married for two months. It wasn’t planned. But the Jameson men are bulls, as Shane used to say, and that was just how it worked out.”
I blushed. I could imagine—if Mickey was anything like his dad, Shane would have been a force to reckon with.
“Did he like school? I loved school,” I shared. “I couldn’t wait to go every morning. It was the best thing to me. I loved learning. I didn’t like the other kids, though. I was always really shy.”
“I can tell you were a quiet one,” Thelma said with a laugh. She yawned. “But no, Mickey wasn’t like that. He was loud and always in trouble. I swear there was a year where Shane was picking him up every day. He always misbehaved, but he wasn’t a bad kid. He was just a prankster with too much energy for a classroom.” She smiled indulgently. “I would have homeschooled him, but I feared he wouldn’t get a very good education
that way. Not that it mattered, he did alright in the end.”
“What did he do after school? Did you want him to go to college?”
“No,” Thelma said with a laugh. “It would have been a waste of money. Mickey dropped out when he was sixteen. He figured out how to repair bikes and soon he was working at an auto shop. He always wanted to be the next president of The Irish. He was just like his old man, a born leader. He never would have been happy following anyone other than Shane.”
I nodded. Suddenly, I felt guiltier than ever. The Irish was the only thing Mickey had really wanted, and here I was, taking it away from him. I felt selfish and sick inside.
Lucky: The Irish MC Page 18
