Doctor Her: A Single Dad Virgin Romance

by Hazel Parker

I had never had a woman tell me that, and to be honest, I didn’t know what to say to it.

  “Whatever this is,” she said, pointing between us, “it’s not worth staying for.”

  Well damn. How could she say that after what we just experienced? Plus, how the fuck would she even know? She hadn’t given us a chance. Was it me? Maybe she felt like the majority of the population feels: it’s dangerous to get involved with a biker. But she didn’t know me. I always protected what was mine.

  “How would you know that?”

  “I just do,” she said, shrugging and pulling out from my embrace.

  “What would it hurt?”

  I hated how the question sounded leaving my mouth, but if I had to be the bitch in the moment for something that I really wanted, I would be that.

  “I’m not staying in town much longer, and this would just be a complication.”

  She called us a ‘this,’ and that was something. Something was better than nothing.

  “Let me convince you to stay.”

  I had to, because I could admit to myself that I was already attached. I missed the opportunity once, but I wasn’t going to miss it again. I wanted to see what this was. We were great together.

  She shook her head no but asked, “How do you intend to convince me?”

  I sat up and grabbed her hand. “If it’s money you need, I got it covered. If you’re in trouble, I’ll protect you. If you’re running from something, I’m the best person to have your back. You don’t always have to be tough, Red. I can be that for the both of us.” She seemed to think about it and sighed before saying, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  That’s all I wanted to hear.

  Chapter Nine – Red

  As promised, I stayed, even though I woke before him. It was foolish to be watching him so closely, so interested in his looks, just like it had been foolish for me to stay. But what was most foolish was how he made me feel. I knew better, and yet I was still falling like a damn fool because that’s what I was: a fool in love.

  I looked down on his large body. Asleep, he looked even bigger than he did when he was awake. He took up more space, sprawled across the bed, like a giant. He really was huge compared to my little body. I shook my head as he snored lightly. What was he doing to me? Normally I only had sex with the lights firmly off, and yet he had me strip and for him without even thinking. I could find embarrassment when I was so lost in lust. I tried to think through what this was, and found nothing. I had no answers and I wanted to curse myself for allowing myself to make things complicated. This was supposed to be a simple one-night stand, and yet here I was in his bed again. To make matters worse, I was hungry. Those tacos hadn’t done a thing considering we burnt through them as soon as we got home. I needed to eat something.

  Warren slept face down, and if it weren’t for the gentle snoring, I’d fear he was smothering himself. He must have really been afraid I’d leave like I did last time because his arm was thrown across my waist. I picked it up tentatively, afraid to wake him and desperate to pee.

  After some slow maneuvers and holding my breath, I replace my body with a pillow.

  He said something in his sleep, but didn’t wake.

  Once nature stopped calling, I tip-toed around, taking in the details of the home I never noticed before. It was an older home, and it was painfully obvious no woman lived here, but it was clean and furnished. Which was worth some points because I knew for a fact men more often than not did not see the point of keeping a clean place.

  The kitchen held cabinets that were barely filled. There was a set of everything, as if Warren went to Walmart and grabbed one box of everything, and however many was in the set was what he had. Six plates, six forks, six spoons, and six knives. They were plain and easily replaceable. His cups were a collection of plastic fast food cups, shot glasses, and a few more glasses he probably got from Target. I grabbed the plates first. I would have bet money Warren never ate at this table, which was why I took the time to set it. I didn’t see any trays and had no intention of burning myself or accidently dropping food, trying to balance as I walked to his bedroom.

  Once the table as set with paper towels since Warren didn’t have any napkins, I raided his kitchen for food. I found three cereal boxes, milk that was on the cusp of expiration, bread, cheese slices, butter, eggs, and condiments. Clearly he didn’t spend much time here. With limited options, I knew there was only one thing to do: I needed to make something. My stomach growled loudly.

  Grilled cheese it was.

  Warren was a big man, and I assumed he had a big appetite so I planned to use the rest of the bread on top of his refrigerator, which was probably a good thing. He could stand to go shopping.

  I hummed to myself, feeling quite domestic and safe for the first time in a while. I felt calm and I wasn’t checking over my shoulder or wondering how long I had before I had to leave. If I was just a woman, unaware of the world, I wouldn’t have noticed Warren’s presence, but I wasn’t a regular woman. I was a woman abused and scorned. I noticed people’s presence almost as soon as they were nearby. But I felt safe with his presence. He stood in the doorway, watching me cook, and I let him. I didn’t know what to say and I hoped to God all he was spouting before we had sex wasn’t out the window.

  “Good morning.”

  His voice was so deep, still tinged with sleep. “By the darkness outside the window, I think you mean good evening.” I paused to giggle. “If bikers even say that.”

  He smiled and came up behind me, grabbing my waist, not caring that I was cooking.

  “Good evening, Red.”

  He tried to sound British, the gravel in his voice, a sexy success. It turned me on to hear him call me that.

  “How did you sleep?” I asked, not moving from his grasp.

  “Like a rock. Like I took a sleeping pill named Red.”

  I giggled.

  “I could stand to take another one,” he hinted into my ear.

  Only hours before, we’d had an amazing session, but I could tell by the hard bulge that he was ready to go ahead. I couldn’t let that happen.

  I turned and pushed his chest

  “We need to get some things cleared up.”

  He rolled his eyes but stepped back. “Some things like what?”

  “Like this,” I said pushing my hands between us. “What is this?”

  “Chemistry,” he said simply, as if I should have already known the answer.

  I leaned against the counter. “Well, what are we doing?”

  “Fucking.”

  His one-word answers were appalling.

  “Do you plan to do that with other women too?”

  He paused, finally not having all the answers, and then shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it, but I hadn’t planned on it.”

  I didn’t want to admit how exciting his answer was, but I needed to make sure. “Well, what if I had planned on it?”

  He pushed me against the counter so fast I forgot I should have been scared. I could tell by his eyes that he was nothing like Bryant. Sure, he was being aggressive, but I wasn’t scared. I was turned on. “If you give anyone else that pussy, I’m going to punish you,” he growled.

  I shoved off the counter, turning off the burners just to be on the safe side. “Is that right?”

  “Yes.” He stepped closer, boxing me in like an animal ready to pounce on his prey. “I will spank that ass so hard you won’t be sitting for a week.”

  His words touched my entire body. I had to be blushing down to my toes, I was so damn turned on. I had no idea how I could feel so safe with him while he told me he was going to spank me, yet I was so scared of my abusive husband. He didn’t let me think on it too long. He grabbed me and bent me over the kitchen counter. My face touched the cold ceramic.

  “In fact, let me go ahead and let you know how I feel about you even thinking that.”

  He swatted my ass once and I mo
aned, arching my ass up to him, hoping he did it again. He didn’t make me wait long. My other cheek stung as he brought his hand with force. “Ah.”

  He took full advantage of my nakedness and stuck his finger in my wet center without mentioning how I was wearing his shirt without panties.

  He slapped my ass again, causing me to clench around his thick digits. He kept a steady pace as he fucked me with his hands. “Going to tell me you were planning to fuck someone else,” he said mumbling to himself. “Got another damn thing coming.” His hand popped loudly on my skin. “I’m the only man you’ll be fucking,” he growled, thrusting into me.

  My legs trembled and I feared I would fall over. I was dizzy with passion. He was telling me I was his and I didn’t care. For the moment, I wanted to be.

  “You hear me?”

  I nodded, my face barely moving against the counter because of my moist skin. He pulled back on my hair, arching my back, causing his fingers to touch an even deeper part inside of me.

  “Yes, Warren!”

  Then I was coming, screaming loudly, barely making any sense.

  “Yes…yes! Oh, yes!” I said, panting and coming back to myself.

  He pulled his fingers out of me and sucked on them loudly until they were clean.

  “Mm. God you taste fucking good,” he said, helping me stand, smoothing his shirt down. “Thanks for breakfast.”

  I flushed, nervous he wasn’t going to eat what I actually cooked. “But you didn’t eat anything yet.”

  He laughed and walked to the corner to the steaming coffee pot. “I just did. It was delicious.” Then with his glass of coffee, he sat back down. “But I could stand to eat a little more.”

  I giggled and pulled the food. He didn’t have much to work with, but he did have bread, cheese, and butter. Grilled cheese and whiskey seemed like a good snack.

  Chapter Ten – Warren

  I woke to the sound of water running and smiled. Finally Red was acting like she was supposed to be here. Earlier she was acting like all she had to do was leave, but I dicked that out of her. Now, she was showering and I vacillated between joining her and waiting to dirty her up again when she got out.

  I was feeling lazy and continued thinking instead of joining her in the water. I needed to process everything before she got back. There was something going on with Red. She was paranoid and fidgety. If she wasn’t looking over her shoulder like someone was watching her, she was staring at her phone like it was a bomb waiting to go off. Despite refusing to be real with me, I just assumed she had a few things to work through, but what were those things? It was suspicious the way she wouldn’t tell me anything about herself. Most women would die to blab about their lives. What I found out about her weren’t things she freely offered. I knew she was funny and smart, but where she worked, what brought her to Willow Springs, or where she met Daniella had yet to be said.

  Everything was going good between us, but something was between us. If only I knew what the hell it was. I stared at her purse on the table wondering if there was an answer in her phone. I didn’t hesitate to climb out the bed and open her purse. On principle, I didn’t approve of going through a woman’s purse. It was like asking to see something you shouldn’t see, but thankfully her phone was on the top. I grabbed it and shook my head when I saw it was locked. Of course it was.

  The next place I looked was her driver’s license…and I hit the fucking jack pocket.

  I skimmed the information quickly, past the number, expiration date, date of birth, and issue date, because her name caught my eye. Tamara Byrd.

  Who the fuck is that?

  Is this ID fake? If so, why?

  I looked at the picture beside the name. It was Red, but not Red. This woman was not my Red. First of all, her hair wasn’t red. It was a dirty-blonde, like it couldn’t decide what color it wanted to be. Her eyes looked sunken in, like she hadn’t slept for weeks before she went to the DMV, and what was worse, her eyes looked broken. My Red had ferocity in her eyes. Sure, she looked worried sometimes and I could tell she was stressed, but she did not look sad. She looked like she wouldn’t take any shit even if she had to fight.

  Who the fuck was this woman?

  I tucked the ID safely back into the plastic and strode over to my discarded pants where my phone was still in the pocket.

  “Wiz,” I said as soon as the man said hello.

  “Hey VP.”

  “I got a job.”

  “Okay,” he said, making noise like he was grabbing paper and pen. “Talk to me.”

  “I need a background check. AZ ID number 9164531,” I said.

  “When you need it?” he asked understanding the seriousness of my tone.

  “I needed it yesterday; if you get it to me sooner than later, you’ll get a bonus.”

  “Give me an hour,” he said and hung up.

  Wiz was an IT guru and a newer prospect. He knew everything from hacking a system to making things on the web disappear. He also had a few cop and mercenary connections. Of all the brothers, I trusted him the most to get this job done.

  I laid back in bed unsure how I should feel. There were a lot of things running through my head, but when Red opened the bathroom door with nothing but steam flooding out around her naked body and her towel wrapped head they all disappeared.

  Fuck how I was feeling. Red was asking to be owned, and if my phone rang while I was cock deep in her, I would cross that bridge when we got there.

  A few hours later, my phone buzzed. The text was clear.

  Mission accomplished.

  I sat up, sliding from under Red’s body.

  “Going somewhere?” She blinked slowly, almost asleep.

  “Yeah. I got a crisis at the club house. Go back to sleep.”

  “Will you be back soon?” When she was sleepy, she was more vulnerable, and so cute.

  I kissed her forehead. “I promise. I’ll be back soon.”

  I drove straight to the clubhouse. My anxiety cut the drive in half and I stood in the back, waiting for the news.

  Wiz stood in front of me, shuffling his feet like a boy scared to be scolded.

  “What is it? Just spit it out.”

  I could tell he was trying to keep the apologetic tone out of his voice. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that no matter how old the men were, many of The Bandits were just boys. Sure, they were built like steel and could fight and drink men twice their age under the table, but they were still just boys. Like rebellious children who’d run away from home for whatever injustice and joined an MC along the way. That’s why Gus had to protect them. That’s why I was the VP and not the President. Gus made decisions. I made those decisions sound.

  I took several deep breaths and tried to calm myself down, but it wasn’t easy. When it came to Alyssa, well Tamara…Red, I couldn’t be neutral. Everything felt dire, which was strange since I normally didn’t get so involved. The emotional crap clouded my judgment. It kept me from being in control, which was what I did. I was a master of control. In my line of work, that kind of distraction could get me and my Pres killed. It was up to me to protect him.

  “Here,” he said, handing me the folder. I don’t know where he got it or who he had to call, but the folder was thick with information.

  On one side was a picture of Red’s driver’s license. It was the exact one I saw, which meant it was real. On the right was a series of pictures and files and details I had to read through. The pictures were gruesome. Pictures of her face, swollen, bleeding, and her body bent and bruised. Suddenly the scars I saw on her body made sense. There were several reports of her calling the police, domestic violence visits, and a restraining order. Her husband was arrested and released. If he had been sentenced, he would still be in jail for beating her, but he got out quickly on bail. It even listed some known police officers that were his friends, the connections that got him a pardon.

  It all added up in my head.

  She wa
s on the run.

  And she fucking lied.

  “I guess you got everything you needed.”

  I wished she hadn’t lied. Why did she lie? If she had come to me, I could have protected her. I could have done something but…she lied. And if she lied once, how could I know I could trust her?

  My fists clenched as I slid the folder back to Wiz and dismissed him with a nod.

  I tried to breathe, but all I could see were the bruises on her body. That bastard hurt her. Bryant fucking Byrd. That asshole. How could a man ever lay a hand on their woman? Especially a woman that’s his wife! It was messed up and he was a fucking coward. Plus, I hadn’t missed the fact that they were married. She was still tied to the fucker. My fists clenched as I thought about it. I didn’t want her to belong to him. She was mine.

  Red made me feel so greedy, like I could never get enough of her, and that scared me. The thought of any man touching her, owning her, drove me insane. I had no right to feel like this about her. This possessive shit wasn’t like me at all. I liked being a free agent, fucking whomever and whenever. Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am worked just fine for me, but something in me wanted to own Red, keep her as mine. I’d never felt that way about a woman, and it rocked me to my core. What was she doing to me?

  I drove myself home and climbed into the bed. I looked at Red’s small frame and felt new waves of empathy towards her. It all made sense, and I realized the woman had been through a lot. No wonder she was being so paranoid: she was running for her life.

  I climbed under the covers and smiled as she sensed my presence and scooted over until her arms wrapped around my chest. She sighed in contentment and my heart thumped loudly as laid there waiting for sleep.

  The next morning, we sat together at the table eating scrambled eggs and toast. I watched Red with questions running through my head. I wondered why she was with me and how long she was planning to stay. I couldn’t help thinking about her lie and how many lies she had told me. She noticed my mood and was being cheeky because I was questioning everything she said.

  “You want orange juice?”

  “Sure.”