by Skye McNeil
Her dainty fingers slipped under his shirt, slowly tracing his back. It was pure heaven. She was heaven.
“Have you done this with many nymphs?”
He paused his attentions and pulled away from her breast. “What?”
She bit her bottom lip, eyes darting from him to the canned tomatoes on the shelf. “Fucked in the pantry. Have you done it with a lot of the nymphs?”
Doc carefully set her feet on the floor. “No, Isa, I haven’t done this with any nymph.” He searched her eyes. His reputation clearly preceded him, and his beautiful Irish princess was skeptical. He couldn’t blame her.
“What do they call you?”
“Who?”
She gave him an exasperated huff. “The nymphs.”
“Oh, erm, just Doc. Or Doc O for, um, obvious reasons.”
“And the women before me?”
He ran his hands through his hair. This woman will be the death of me.
“O’Brien, usually.”
Rubbing her lips together, Isa walked to the other end of the pantry. “I want to call you something different.” She met his gaze. “Please.”
He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “All right, princess, what’s your poison? Macha man? Doctor Sexy? Hot biker? Those are all available.”
She closed the distance between them and lightly nipped his bottom lip. “When I come, I want to call you Doc T.”
For a moment, Doc wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. No woman had ever called him any variation of Tad during sex. His teasing smile slipped from his face. “What?”
“Please?”
“Why would you want to?”
Isa cupped his jaw. “Has anyone ever called you that?”
“No.”
She pressed her lips to his again. “That’s why. I want to be the first and only.”
His head spun at the notion. Somehow, she had figured out his kryptonite: his name. No one ever called him by it. Especially during sex. He’d always gone by one nickname or another. She was so perfect for him it hurt.
He wrapped his arms around her waist before he could stop himself. “All right, princess.”
She grinned and pulled him down to her mouth. He overwhelmed her lips in the next moment, never getting enough of her candy taste. He’d be damned if anyone else ever called him Doc T. He was Isa’s now, and he didn’t want to let go of the sensations she caused in his body and heart.
Not giving a damn, he yanked at her tight leggings and spun her around. His cock was sheathed and inside her sweet pussy before her throaty moan reached his ears. Isa gripped the shelf in front of her to steady herself. Cans toppled over, hitting the ground and rolling.
Thrusting in and out of her harder, he relished the first, second, and third time his princess screamed his name for the whole damn house to hear.
28
Isa
“This place is incredible.” Isa grazed her fingers along the railing that led to the tattoo parlor attached to the bar. She’d only seen the place once, during her tour, and heaven knew she wasn’t paying attention to anything other than Doc.
“Legs and Snoopy run the shop most of the time, but Hawk is the best artist here.” He nodded toward the man currently bent over a male client, tattoo gun in hand.
Hawk jutted up his chin and grinned. “Fuck yeah. And they know it too.”
Isa perused the wall behind Hawk. It was covered with Polaroids of his clientele and their new tattoos. She had to admit, they were pure art. “You’re amazing.”
Hawk wiped the tattoo he was working on and met her gaze. “That’s what all the women say.”
Doc cleared his throat behind her, but Hawk didn’t seem to take that as a threat.
“You got any tats, princess?”
“Actually, I have one.” She lifted her shirt, displaying a small clover on her rib. “Got it in memory of my mum after she passed. She was as religious as they come but always believed in the power of a four-leaf clover.”
“Why haven’t I seen this before?” Doc asked, his calloused fingers tracing the small tattoo.
“Probably because you were more interested in her other assets,” Hawk heckled good-naturedly.
He didn’t answer and she giggled. “I’m sure you subconsciously saw it.” She patted Doc’s cheek affectionately.
“I’ll pay extra attention tonight, then, to make up for it,” he said lowly.
A delightful shiver shot up Isa’s body. Meeting his blue eyes, she recognized the familiar hue of lust.
“I’ll be done in an hour if you guys want to meet up at the bar.” Hawk put the finishing touches on the tattoo and covered it before sending the man on his way.
“Actually, I was hoping you’d tattoo me.” She glanced between the two men. Both had amused expressions on their handsome faces.
Standing, Hawk held out his hand. “Anything for our Macha princess.”
After getting comfortable in the chair, she pulled out a small drawing from her pocket. “Think you can do it?”
Hawk studied the drawing and his smile broadened. “You drew this?”
“Aye.”
“Damn, girl, you should’ve been a tattoo artist.” He patted her thigh. “Better yet, I could use you for the people who have no clue what they want. You could sketch something up.”
Isa shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll stick to designing clothes.”
“All right, don’t say I didn’t try to cut you in on a sweet deal.” He nodded to her body. “Where we doing this?”
She held out her hand. “My wrist.”
“Isa, that’ll hurt like hell.”
“I know.” She smiled at Doc. Always trying to protect me. “But I’ve wanted one here for years. Hawk will make it painless.” She winked. “Right?”
Hawk chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”
An hour later, Isa stared into the mirror. She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face if she used steel wool. The intricate vine of ivy traced her own rendition of the goddess Macha. Green, blue, black, and red wound together perfectly. It wasn’t a small piece, but one she’d spent hours designing specifically for herself.
“You won’t be forgetting Macha anytime soon,” Hawk said, covering it with a bandage. “Try to keep it dry for a few days, and be sure to use this spray to ward off infection.” He handed her a small bag full of treats.
“Do you give these to all your clients?”
“Nah, only the pretty ones.” He grabbed her hand and helped her out of the chair. “Be gentle now, Doc.”
“Always am with this one.” He took her goody bag and led her to the saloon doors. “First round’s on me.”
Hawk laughed. “All the rounds are on you, Doc.”
Isa followed Doc into the bar, the steady stream of customers filling the space. Thankfully, a small clump of tables in the back of the bar were reserved for Macha members. They plopped into one of the booths, and Doc waved to Brewer.
“What did Hawk mean?”
“About what?”
She shifted on the red seat. “About you being gentle.”
“Oh, that.”
When he didn’t expand, she cocked her eyebrow. “You told me you were too rough for a girl like me. From what I can tell, you’re not as rough as I expected.”
Doc waited until one of the nymphs dropped off their drinks to answer. He leaned forward over the table. “That’s because I’m holding back.”
“What? Why? I told you not to.”
He took a long draw of beer. “Baby, if I showed you the beast in me, you’d shatter.”
“Then shatter me.” She locked eyes with him. “I want to see and feel it all.”
“No can do, baby doll.” Doc turned his gaze to the bar, and hers reluctantly followed. The slow country song had tempted couples out to the dance floor, and plenty of groping abounded. He nodded every now and then at fellow Macha members.
“Why?”
He shifted on the s
eat. Letting out a heavy sigh, he finished off his drink. “Because you can’t handle it.”
“And the nymphs can?”
His brows rose. “That’s not what I said.”
“So then what’s it like, Doc?” She folded her arms across her chest. “You gently shag me, then ravage one of the club sluts to let it all out?”
Doc’s eyes narrowed, and the gorgeous depths of blue turned stormy once more. Just like when she’d first met him.
There it is. That simmering danger she wanted to exploit.
“I haven’t had sex with a nymph since you arrived.”
“Bullshit. You can’t honestly expect me to believe that.” She pounded her whiskey. “Not after you admitted to taking it easy on me because I can’t handle your beast.”
He slid across the booth, pinning her to the back with nowhere to go. “I hold myself back because I don’t want to hurt you.”
She leaned closer, her nose touching his briefly. “That’s not healthy, Doc.”
“I never said I was good at taking prescribed medicine.”
She tilted her head to the left. “Then maybe you should try one dose of me at a time.”
“Isa, let it go.” He laid his large hand over hers. “Please. We’re just starting something here. I can’t lose you because of my selfish needs.”
Shoving at him, she wiggled out enough to climb over the table. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not the scared little virgin you met.” She straightened her shoulders and gave him a defiant glare. “I’m the daughter of Macha, and I’ll kick your arse if you don’t treat me as such.”
Doc’s stern face slightly broke into a small grin, but he quickly smothered it. Isa didn’t give him the opportunity to respond. She stalked outside and fished his bike keys from her pocket. He hadn’t even felt her lift them.
She’d get it through his thick skull eventually. I’m not easily broken. Macha’s made sure of that.
29
Isa
“Well, how’s it going with your sexy biker?” Dolly asked. She plopped onto the couch next to Isa and got as close as humanly possible without touching.
Isa looked away from the television show. Aside from the night before, when Doc promptly shut her down, she couldn’t hide how she truly felt about the stubborn arse. “I don’t even have words to describe it.” She chuckled. “Not like I have anything to base it on.”
“Girl, try. I’m dying over here.” Dolly bopped her nose to Isa’s. “Tell me.”
Doc’s shadow fell across the doorway, and Isa glanced over to see him talking with Cueball and Rubble. He caught her gaze for an instant but then returned to his conversation. They’d yet to discuss their disagreement the night before. Seeing how I stole his motorcycle, I doubt he wants to chat.
“Is he always so stubborn?
“Uh-huh.” Dolly grinned.
Isa chuckled. “Thanks for being honest, I guess.”
Dolly sat back and crossed her legs. “Girl, you’re not in a relationship with him.”
“Well, I know that, but—”
“No buts. I’ll give it to you straight.” She faced Isa on the couch. “Sometimes, women fall for the first guy they sleep with. It’s totally normal, but you need to prepare yourself.”
Frowning, she crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not like that. Doc and I have a connection. We had one before sleeping together.” She instantly hated how naïve she sounded.
“Sure, sweetie.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. Look, sex is my job. I’m trying to warn you.” Dolly tightened her ponytail. “You’re under Macha protection. Doc’s protection. Of course he’s going to do everything in his power to keep you as close to him as possible. It’s not unusual for Macha men.”
Blood drained from Isa’s face. Suddenly the ham sandwich she ate an hour ago didn’t settle so well. “You’re saying he slept with me only because he wants to keep me safe?”
Dolly shrugged and pulled out her cell phone, checking the messaging app. “I’m saying don’t get emotionally invested. Once a playboy, always a playboy.”
Isa clenched her jaw. Surely the madam was wrong.
She tried to focus on the reality show on the big screen, but her mind wouldn’t let her home in on it. Their interactions filtered across her memory. She’d instigated their kisses and hours filled with sex. Not Doc. He didn’t want to hurt her; he’d said so last night. He’d purposefully restrained himself during sex. The whispers around the clubhouse reminded her that was abnormal. Doc wasn’t a soft, gentle lover.
Brewer popped his head in the room and called his sister away. Isa didn’t even hear them leave, just felt the empty loneliness fill the space.
Maybe I read too much into Doc’s words and actions. She tucked her feet under her and whined. You’ve done it this time, Isa. She had to accept Doc was doing his job. He said he’d do whatever it took to keep her safe, and evidently he meant it.
Bloody fool.
The distinct scent of roast chicken wafted up the stairs and to Isa’s room. She’d wanted to skip the big family dinner tonight, but her grumbling belly had other ideas. Putting down the book on Macha history written by one of the founding members, she slipped a button-up shirt over her pink tank top. The bedazzled shirt usually made her giddy, but not today. Not since she spoke with the club’s madam.
Heading down the hall, she watched the club from her perch at the top of the catwalk. Hawk was chasing a youngster around the living area, rubber snake in his hands, while the child laughed happily. Snoopy was chewing out a prospect about cleaning his roadster incorrectly. Brewer had a nymph on the line, the brunette an easy mark. And of course, there was Doc sitting on a leather recliner nearby, a nymph on each arm of the overstuffed chair.
Isa held her head a smidge higher and started down the stairs. Only once she made the bottom did she look anywhere but Doc’s handsome face. He hadn’t spotted her yet, which was fine with her. If Dolly was right, she’d accept the fact that she’d been a fool with Macha’s doctor.
Getting over him will be a whole different problem.
“You look comfy,” a low voice complimented.
Looking to her left, she smiled at Rubble. The big man didn’t normally socialize with her, but tonight, she was grateful for the distraction.
“Thanks. I am.” She looked down at her sweatpants. “Didn’t feel like dressing up for a meal.”
Rubble chuckled, the sound cheerful yet low and rumbling. He was the one biker she was wary of due to the sheer mass of the man. He was all muscle and beard.
“What do you look like without the beard?” she asked before she could stop herself.
Shifting his weight to his left leg, Rubble subconsciously stroked the long black beard. It was trimmed but wild enough to look the biker part. That paired with a perfectly shaved head and mismatched eyes made him appear unapproachable.
“Young.” He winked his blue eye, and she felt a blush creep up her neck.
They walked toward the dining room, Doc long forgotten in her mind. “I’d guess as much. But honestly, doesn’t it get hot with all that hair?”
Rubble shrugged. “Can’t really remember a time I didn’t have one form of scruff or another. In the Marines, I had to be clean cut. At least until we were deployed. Nobody gave a shit about that when we were knee deep in sand.”
Isa watched his smile droop. “Do you miss the action?”
“No.” He pulled out a chair for her. “I’ve found a brotherhood with the club like I had in the Marines. More so even. Macha was there when I returned. They didn’t give me grief for not having any professional skills. They accepted me as I am. I can’t say many other jobs would.”
“I’ve never thought of that. It must’ve been hard adjusting to civilian life again.” She took a sip of water, ensuring her eyes never left his face. The club’s sergeant at arms was much more than mere muscle.
“It was. Still is, depending on where I go.”
&n
bsp; “I’m sure it also affected your relationships. Have you ever been in one?”
Rubble met her curious gaze. “Why the sudden interest, Isa?” He jutted his chin toward the living room. “Doc here not giving you proper attention?”
The blood drained from her face. “Oh no, that’s not what I meant. I, um, well, I really just—”
“Calm down. I was teasing.” He patted her hand. “To answer your question, not too many women approach me. Evidently I give off a tough vibe.” He outstretched his large hands. “I wonder what it is.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but he waved her off.
“I don’t do relationships. Never had much luck in them. It’s part of the reason I joined the Marines. My parents were shitty, and I was bounced around foster homes until I aged out of the system.” He took a breath. “I’ve never been good with women. No offense, but y’all are hard to read. Battle plans, though. Those are natural to me.”
“I admit, we women can be difficult.” She offered him a small smile. “But you can’t avoid women because you don’t understand us.”
He took a sip of beer. “Watch me.”
Isa rolled her eyes. It was like talking to a brick wall. She’d heard a prospect mention Rubble’s previous stint in MMA, where he’d earned his nickname. That was a story she’d like to hear, but for tonight, she was content merely gaining a new friend, albeit not a close one.
Dinner was served, and she couldn’t help but notice Doc stayed at the other end of the table. Boulder sat to her left, and she instantly felt small between the two men. In between a rock and a hard place. She giggled to herself.
She did her damnedest to not look Doc’s direction. It would’ve been easier if the slutty nymphs didn’t chortle every two minutes at something witty the lout said. The flirting was one thing. Ignoring her was what set her off.
“He’s a dick sometimes,” Rubble said under his breath.
Isa looked over to Doc, and for a split second, their eyes connected. “Yeah, definitely an eejit.” She focused on her apple crisp. “Do club members always utilize the nymphs when it suits them or just him?”