Cowboy Bikers MC #1
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 Biker 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
For my person.
Christi Durbin.
Table of contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
— Harlene —
I love my job. Sometimes it’s hard and right in your face when you’re balancing the life of furry patients in your hands, but most of the time it reminds me of why I became a vet in the first place. It’s primarily due to the strength animals have and the way they are able to bounce back; it’s one of the main reasons I never give up in my own life.
Even now, only one week since my father and brother died in a horrible accident. Life goes on, right? Well, the veterinarian services my father worked so hard for goes on, and it’s my drive to pick myself up off the ground each day…to go on.
My father was my inspiration and he motivated me to become a vet. As did my brother who became a vet three years before I did. The veterinarian clinic my father started treats both large and small animals. We do get occasional exotic pets but with them it’s more like a first aid where we always refer them to a specialist. The same goes for cases that are too complex for the large and small animals; we refer them on.
I guess the reason for expanding the clinic to help all animals came from the fact that my father never gave up. Not when it came to an animal, and surely not when it came to dragging your ass out of bed at odd times each and every day. So, I owe it to him—to both my father and my brother—to continue the veterinary clinic the way we have been doing for years.
This also meant I had to hire two people to fill the two spots my brother and father left behind. I decided to hire my two best friends and it’s also because of them that I’m still capable of functioning. We all met in veterinary school. Cassidy was a year behind me and just finished, so for her it was perfect timing.
Joaquin, on the other hand, dropped out of vet school a few months ago. That didn’t stop me from hiring him because he’s more than capable of handling the phone and assisting where needed. He’s OCD when it comes to planning and keeping everything clean. Like I said, Joaquin is more than capable.
His parents labeled him as a failure—which he absolutely isn’t. He might be an extravagant person because he paints his nails and dates both women and men, but no one should judge another person if you’re not standing in their shoes.
My cowboy boot hits the brakes when my eye catches movement from my right. I hear the roaring of bikes when they fully come into view. My SUV comes to a stop and I open the door to stand in it and get a better view as I lean over the roof of my SUV. Are these guys insane? They are herding cattle with freaking motorcycles.
Anger surges through me. No wonder my father never let me handle anything that involved The Iron Hot Blood Ranch, these guys are idiots. Herding cattle with their bikes instead of using horses or their dogs. I keep observing the situation for a few more breaths and it seems the cows are used to it. But still, who does that?
I get back into my SUV and head for their ranch. I reach for my silver travel mug—filled with coffee—and enjoy a few more sips before I take a hard right to enter the property of The Iron Hot Blood Ranch. From what I’ve been told, a motorcycle club runs this ranch. And yes, that’s the reason my father and brother kept me far away since the rumors are these guys are a pretty wild bunch with their parties and some dirty business.
But again, rumors, since I wasn’t allowed anywhere near those guys. Not even if they came by the clinic. My father would send me out back or completely out of the building to make sure I didn’t run into any of them. But my father, nor my brother, are here to keep me away. And I have a clinic to run. I can hardly turn away clients or animals in need of medical attention, so here I am.
A young guy with jeans, cowboy boots, a Stetson hat, and a leather cut with patches jogs toward me to open a large gate. I flutter my fingers in a wave as I drive past him. Another biker with black hair, scruffy jaw, and a similar leather cut with patches is waiting for me when I park.
“Hey, lady doc. Thanks for coming,” the man rumbles with a harsh voice, though his green eyes are warm. “I’m Roper. Let me show you the way.”
I grab my bag and follow the man.
“I’m Harlene,” I tell him as he guides me to a large barn where a beautiful Texas Longhorn is standing, looking very uncomfortable.
“I know who you are, ma’am. Your daddy did a fine job at keeping us away from you.” The man has a strangely harsh laugh and yet his eyes carry a gentle twinkle.
“You’re a real sweetheart, Roper, aren’t you?” I give a slight chuckle and drop my bag when I mindlessly add, “Your features might scream that you’re a hardass, but your eyes tell me I would want you by my side if I ever find myself in trouble.”
His laughter abruptly stops and his eyes narrow.
Just in case he says something about my big mouth getting me into trouble—since I’m all too well aware my thoughts slip past my lips before my mind has a chance to catch up—I tell him, “Let me tie her up first. We don’t want you to work up a sweat holding onto those pointy things, right?” I shoot him a wink and grab the rope.
His head tips back and this time rich and warm laughter ripples from him. See? I knew deep down this man is nice once he opens up. I always pay attention to someone’s eyes, it’s the whole “windows to the soul” thing. Well, not really. It’s mostly the lines around the eyes and the look they give you. It can tell you a lot about their personality.
Focusing on the task at hand, I ignore him and make sure I have enough rope before I tie a knot, form a loop, and let it twirl above my head. I manage to catch the Texas Longhorn by the horns in one go and tighten the rope, tying it to a pole. Roper joins in to pull her closer and make sure she’s locked tight.
I might not have a tight ass and a flat stomach like my friend Cassidy, but my body is flexible enough since I do work out almost every day. This benefits me during my job if I have to quickly move out of the way or jump over a fence for instance. But also, it comes in handy for the hard work of pulling a calf out of a uterus. Even more when it’s stuck, like now.
“Motherfucker,” I grumble and have to let my arm disappear inside the heifer in an effort to find the calf’s legs and try to shift it so I can put the chain around it and pull it out. “Come on, dammit,” I mutter and check if the calf is still alive by sticking my fingers into its mouth.
“Quite the mouth on such a pretty lady.” Roper chuckles but I ignore him.
“Still alive,” I state and have a grip on the legs. “Hand me the chain,” I order and Roper jumps into action.
Putting the chain around the calf’s legs I start to pull and without asking Roper rushes over to help me again and we get the calf out
, alive and well.
We free the mom and get out of the way to let nature do the rest. I glance down and notice both my braids are covered in goo as are my arms and my white tank which I’m wearing underneath my overalls. But this is Texas and hot as hell, so I tied the top part around my waist, because like I said...this is some hard freaking work.
The sound of roaring bikes bursts through the air when I’m walking back to my SUV. I’ve loaded my stuff in the back when Roper walks toward me with a bucket of water and a towel.
“I thought you’d like to wash up a bit before you get behind the wheel,” he says and places the bucket in front of my feet.
I squat down and quickly wash my hands adding some water to my chest, face, and hair before I take the towel and dry myself off. Just what I needed, some cold water to freshen up. There are two guys parking their bikes and heading our way.
I’m not up for chit chat, even more when I see Trixy strutting toward them with her fake boobs strapped up high wearing her shiny red cowboy boots. God forbid there would land a speck of dirt on those things. Not to mention the cutoff jean shorts she’s wearing. They are pulled up so freaking high it would take one sneeze for her ass to swallow them whole.
She’s a bitch. She hates me and in return, I hate her. But that’s more like a necessity since she’s made my life miserable ever since she thought I stole her boyfriend. Which obviously I didn’t. He broke it off with her and I can’t help it if he asked me to go out. And for the record...I turned him down because I wasn’t even allowed to go out on a date when I was sixteen.
Didn’t matter to queen bitch. It was all my fault. Like I said, she’s always had it in for me. The last time she tried to rip me a new asshole was the day my father and brother died. Over a damn red T-shirt for crying out loud. Who does that? Queen bitch, that’s who. She thinks the whole world belongs to her.
I should have walked away and let her have the damn t-shirt, but I was having a shitty day and wanted the cute red shirt with stupid sparkles. The bitch even had the freaking nerve to swing by that night to demand the shirt. She was surprised when I opened the door. I bet she was expecting my brother so she could show some boob and steal the freaking shirt or something.
I hate that shirt now. It’s somehow linked with the whole heart torn moment of losing my father and brother. I can’t get myself to put it on. It’s still in the same place I threw it after I almost broke my neck over the damn thing and hurt my ankle. If I did wear it, I’m pretty sure I’d jinx myself because ever since I touched that shirt...everything in my life went wrong.
“What the hell are you doing here, bitch?” Trixy starts and wants to throw some more words at me but she’s too busy dodging manure so she doesn’t ruin her precious red boots.
Ignoring her, I hand the towel back to Roper. The two bikers with cowboy hats almost reach me when I turn.
“Hey, bitch,” Trixy snaps again. “I’m talking to you.”
“Trix, shut your fuckin’ mouth.” A deep rumble of a voice puts Trixy in her place while this voice ignites goose bumps to spread all over my arms.
Goose bumps. In this freaking heat. Don’t turn around, Harlene. Don’t you dare turn around. Get into the vehicle and get the hell out of here. I order myself, but it’s useless as I spin on my heels and let my gaze connect with the bluest of eyes.
Holy shit this man is hot. Not just hot—licking my lips while my fingers trace his scruffy jaw, muscled arms, all those tattoos, and kiss that freaking dimple, riding his dick to see if it’s all worth it—damn hot. Shit. I knew I should have gotten inside my SUV, hit the gas and never looked back.
Now I know the reason my daddy kept me away from here; because of the whole ‘sex on hot legs’ distraction in front of me.
Shit. The realization makes me swallow hard and close my eyes to push back the tears flaring up due to all the emotions hitting me hard. When I open them up, I have to blink fast since Trixy is standing close. Good thing there’s some manure in front of me or she’d be right in my face.
Though it doesn’t stop her from hissing out the words, “What’s wrong, bitch? Still crying over your daddy? It should have been you, you’re such a fuck up.”
CHAPTER TWO
— Weston —
Freckles. Sexy as fuck freckles are dusted over her sweet button nose and rosy cheeks, highlighting them some more. Add the strawberry blonde hair in pigtails long enough to hide her perky nipples of those lush tits her white tank is barely keeping in place, and my cock is damn fucking hard imaging all the things I want to do with her. Not to mention the curves on this woman.
No wonder her father always kept us away. Okay, it’s mostly the rumors about us fucking all the available women living around here, but come on, it takes two to tango and every willing pussy is welcome to take some dance lessons.
Like Trixy; the one strutting toward the vet, carefully dodging the manure. She thinks she’s high-class but she throws her panties on the floor without thinking and shoves her ass in the air for a raunchy fuck when and however she can get it. All while thinking she’s a top dog even though her father gets paid by working for us—running the junkyard—and those shiny boots she’s wearing are bought with said cash.
“What’s wrong, bitch?” Trixy hisses. “Still crying over your daddy? It should have been you, you’re such a fuck up.”
I have no clue what she means by that but I’m about to step in between them, and yet I don’t have to. The vet steps forward, kicking the manure—so it lands on Trixy’s shiny boots—and says, “Oh, I’m well aware it should have been me, Trixy. But you know what? Life sucks. And you of all people should know because all you do is suck. Cock that is. Now go find another one to latch on and stop bugging me.”
Trixy is like a fish gasping for air but the vet is already heading for her SUV. All while my brothers are laughing their asses off. I quickly rush toward her and manage to lean on the open window.
“What was the whole ‘it should have been me’ about?” I question, when all I want is to ask her a truckload of other stuff like, “wanna have some fun in the hay?” or “can I lick your pussy until you scream my name?” yeah, mainly that last one.
“It was about what happened last week,” she says, her voice sounding mechanic, as if she’s miles away and functioning on autopilot.
“Hey,” I whisper and cup her face.
The instant our skin collides, there’s a spark of electricity highlighting our connection.
Ignoring the spark, I gently turn her face toward me so I can lock those gorgeous baby blues with mine. “I’ve been out on a run for about a week. We just came back about an hour ago. What happened last week that I don’t know about?”
She closes her eyes and leans into my touch. It’s as if she wraps her fingers around my heart to give it a tight squeeze when she says, “My father and brother died.”
Her tormented gaze hits me and she adds, “I have to go.”
“Yeah, you do,” I tell her and let my thumb caress her cheek before I pull my hand away and let her drive off.
“Good riddance,” Trixy huffs.
Anger surges hot through me. I might indulge myself in some meaningless pussy from time to time, but what I don’t need is a brainless bitch intentionally hurting others. Even more when it’s a direct hit to a relative that fucking died a few fucking days ago.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, bitch?” I snarl. “She’s grieving and you’re rubbing that shit in? Get the fuck out of my sight.”
She has the nerve to pout and whines, “But West, she’s the one who is a bitch. She’s always bothering me and the last time she stole a shirt I really wanted to buy because it was the only color that would go with my leather skirt and I wanted to look nice for you.”
My eyes hit the Texas sky and I take a breath to get a handle on my anger.
“There you go again,” I tell her with a tight and controlled voice. “Insinuating shit. She didn’t steal a shirt. I’m betting she bought it
before you even so much as got near it. Then you saw it and wanted it. It’s always like that with you. And stop calling me West. It’s Weston and you fucking know it. But it doesn’t matter since I’m fed up with your shit. I don’t want to see you here on my ranch, got it? Now get the hell off my property and don’t think you can come around here again because I will throw you in a pile of manure to bring you down a few notches, ’cause God knows you are a pro at making people feel like shit.”
She narrows her eyes and is about to snap at me, but Alfie steps forward and grabs her arm. “You heard the man, you’re done.”
“But Alfie,” she whines and I know she’s going to complain to him because she always tries to jump his cock whenever she doesn’t get any interest from me.
Dismissing her without a single thought, I step closer to Roper, my VP. “How’d it go? Did we lose the heifer?”
“The vet did great, you should have seen her with a lasso. I mean, when her dad did that shit, or her brother.” He shakes his head. “You know me, I always love a woman who can handle some rope play. And that mouth on her, hot damn.”
A surge of unknown feelings rise and it puts me on edge. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was jealousy.
I manage to snap through clenched teeth, “She sucked you off?”
Roper tilts his head and assesses me with hawk eyes. “No. She swears like one of the guys. I thought she was more of a prude from the way her father protected her virtue by keeping her away from us. Why the hell are your balls in a knot?”
I rub a hand over the back of my neck. “Fuck if I know. Maybe Trixy set me off by being a bitch to her. She just lost her father and brother for fuck’s sake and Trixy taunted her.”
“Are you kidding me? They died? How? Dammit, we go on a run for seven days and we miss some crucial shit. I thought it was weird when Harlene answered the phone instead of her father. Damn. They died, huh?” He shakes his head and we fall silent.
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