Lucky: The Irish MC

by West, Heather

  “She was,” I said drily. As we talked about Ella, memories of her warm, fragrant body washed over me. It was like a drug, more powerful than any drug that I’d tried. When I was younger, I’d had a nasty blow habit. Ella was more dangerous than any batch of coke I’d come across, though. I already craved her body again.

  “So, you got big plans tonight?” Mason raised his eyebrows. “There are some ladies here who have missed you quite a lot.”

  I laughed. The guys always knew how to throw a party. I had no doubt that by the end of the night, I’d be up to my neck in pussy. Sure, it wouldn’t be Ella’s pussy, but it was pussy all the same. As we walked toward the bar, a group of shrieking, giggling girls tackled me. They were scantily clad—some only in panties—and I felt the staggeringly soft fabric of female skin rub against my body. Two of the girls grinned at me, then leaned forward and shared a steamy openmouthed kiss. As I watched their tongues caress each other, my cock stiffened inside my jeans. Mason was watching and grinning as I dug my hand in a blonde’s hair and pulled her to my mouth. Her lips were soft and warm, and they tasted like bubblegum, but she rammed her tongue in my mouth so quickly I’d have thought she was trying to eat me. Some of the arousal faded away but I slid my hand down her back and squeezed her perfect bubble of an ass. The blonde moaned softly in my mouth. I felt various female hands caressing me all over my body and it was an amazingly pleasurable sensation.

  Breaking the kiss, I looked at all of the girls who were crowding for a spot around me. “I think I must have died and gone to heaven, ladies,” I said with a smirk. Mason, Jimmy, and the rest of the guys heard me and gave a whoop. The girls shrieked and cuddled closer. Two of them flanked me in a feminine impersonation of Mason and Jimmy and I wrapped my arms around their warm, lean waists. They were the kinds of American girls that I thought I’d missed so much in Ireland: tan, big tits, tiny little waist, long hair, red mouth, big eyes. But compared to Ella, or at least my experience of Ella, they were nothing. As the two bleach blonde twins leaned in and started meshing tongues again, I pulled away.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” One of the other girls looked up at me with a simpering pout. “You got something you wanna talk about?”

  “No,” I said darkly. “I need to be alone for a while.”

  I pushed past the crowd of girls. They squawked like hungry kittens for a few seconds but soon enough, they were plastering themselves against Mason and Jimmy. Jimmy eagerly wrapped his hands around one girl’s ass and pushed her close. I snorted. Seemed like fatherhood wasn’t going to do anything to change that Lothario. Mason was frenching one of the blonde girls and the other blonde wrapped herself around his back and fondled the girl he was kissing. It was like something out of a softcore porno. Most of the time, I would have found the girls’ antics extremely sexy, but tonight I just wasn’t feeling it. Every time I closed my eyes, there was only one girl I saw. And that was Ella.

  None of the guys noticed as I slipped out of the room and let myself into one of the back bedrooms. It was a sparsely decorated room with a pullout couch, and I stayed there often when I was bedding one of the club groupies. But tonight, it seemed like I was gonna be there all alone. I took a deep breath and walked over to the liquor cabinet. Pouring myself a few fingers of whiskey, I sat down on the bed and tugged my boots off. The smell coming from my feet was powerful, but it felt incredibly good to be shoeless. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d taken them off—even when I’d fucked Ella, one of them had stayed on my feet. I pulled off my shirt and pants and threw them down on the floor, crawling into bed with my thimble full of whiskey.

  When I closed my eyes, Ella’s generous mouth filled my vision. So she was gonna be a doctor, eh?

  “Well, I could use a good doctor,” I said aloud. The words made me smirk. I pictured Ella standing over me naked in a stethoscope and nothing else. Her little breasts with their sexy brown nipples would sway to the side as she leaned over me and pretended that my body was an ocean of injury.

  “Does this hurt?” Ella asked with a giggle. She pressed the stethoscope against my chest and listened to my heartbeat. As she watched me, I felt my heart begin to thud faster and faster in my chest. As Ella listened to the pounding of my heart, she closed her eyes and turned her lips up in a sensual smile. I grinned and felt my cock stiffen and twitch between my legs.

  “That doesn’t hurt, doctor,” I told her with a sly grin. “But you might want to check lower.”

  Ella slid the stethoscope down my abs. The metal hadn’t yet warmed to my skin and the sensation was chilling and oddly arousing. She listened through the earpieces, then took them off and hung them around her neck.

  “I think you’re going to need a comprehensive examination,” she said, looking at me with a smirk. I felt a bolt of lust shoot through my body. In that moment, there was nothing I wanted to do more than grab her body and slam her down on the bed. She was stark naked aside from the stethoscope and I admired the shaved, rounded flesh of her labia. Ella was surprisingly pale for a brunette and there were hints of freckles on her chest and shoulders. She giggled and motioned for me to roll over. Obligingly, I rolled onto my belly and tilted my face up to hers. Ella twisted away.

  “I’m a doctor, sir,” she said, with mock indignation. “I’m not yours to paw at and grope!”

  I growled. I desperately wanted to show her that yes, indeed, she was exactly mine to grope. But for now, I’d let her enjoy this little fantasy.

  Ella slid the stethoscope down until it was pressed against the small of my back. She straddled my ass and I felt some moisture from her pussy against my skin. It was enough to throw my desire into overdrive, and I groaned softly as Ella rubbed her clit against the cheeks of my ass. She moaned and kneaded my ass with her hand.

  “Mmm,” she moaned. “That feels good. You’re being a very good patient.” I was powerless to stop her as she began humping my ass, rubbing her exposed clit against my skin. As she got more and more into the motions of her hips, I felt a trickle of Ella’s arousal drip down onto my bare skin. Grinning, I arched my back ever so slightly so the angle would hit her even harder. Ella shrieked and rubbed harder. The feel of her bare pussy against my skin, so close to my cock, was almost more than I could handle. Underneath me, my erection was growing painfully hard and pressing against the bed. I longed to throw her off me and plunge my cock inside, but at that very moment she shrieked and gasped and clutched at my body as orgasm shook her petite frame. When she was finished, she stepped off me, gasping and clutching at her flesh. There was a delicious red flush over her body and I grabbed Ella and brought her close to me.

  “Augh!” I cried out as cum splashed over my thighs. With a grin, I realized that I’d been jerking off to Dr. Ella without even realizing it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ella

  The first day I was home, I slept for thirteen straight hours. It almost felt like I’d lost a day, like I’d gone straight from one land to the other, and my brain had completely reset.

  When I’d finally gotten home, the sun was coming up. My apartment looked dingier than I remembered, but it was home. There was almost nothing in the freezer or the pantry—I always tried to leave an empty kitchen when I went on rig runs. A few years ago, I’d had some problems with rats, and since I wasn’t home long enough to own a cat, I didn’t want them to come back. My kitchen looked dirty and dusty, but overall, it was still home. It even smelled the way I’d remembered, like lavender and oil. I’d set myself to making a sandwich, but even the most simple of tasks kept my attention all but vanishing. Plus, I didn’t really have anything for a good sandwich. There was a can of tinned meat in the pantry, but I didn’t have any mayo, cheese, or lettuce, and the bread seemed stale and moldy in parts. With a sigh, I took out my phone and scanned through some delivery apps. The only food being delivered was breakfast—I kept having to remind myself that it was actually eight in the morning. I couldn’t handle doughnuts, but I settled on a platter with bacon, saus
age, eggs, and toast. It came in about twenty minutes, and I wolfed the whole thing down before I’d even had the chance to give it a second look.

  I was wired from the encounter with Mickey. The more time I spent thinking about it, the more unrealistic it really seemed to me. I couldn’t believe that we’d shared such a passionate moment, especially when we knew so little about each other. It was crazy; he was the sexiest man I’d ever seen, and he’d acted like somehow I was the only one he wanted. Even with those other sexy women around, he hadn’t been able to tear his gaze away from my face. It was so strange. Part of me almost wondered if he was playing a joke on me. I frowned; that wouldn’t be the first time guys had a laugh at my expense. Derek’s friends couldn’t believe that he was dating me; they’d all pegged me as some kind of awful prude. But I wasn’t, and I knew that Derek thought so too. Then again, the joke was on me. After our breakup, we’d never talked again. It hurt. I’d always imagined that since I wasn’t the sexiest or most lovely woman out there, I’d make a man happy by being loyal, by sharing my life. I liked to believe those were the kinds of things that men valued, but maybe I had been wrong. Maybe Derek had forgotten about me as soon as we’d split up.

  I frowned. Maybe Mickey had forgotten about me, too. Going by that logic, I assumed he’d forgotten what my face looked like as soon as he’d stepped out of my truck and headed for the clubhouse. There were probably tons of hot, sexy, young, nubile women who wouldn’t hesitate dropping their panties for the president of The Irish. I shook my head. Yeah, it seems impossible, I thought. Did it really even happen?

  After I ate my breakfast platter, I stood in the shower until the hot water ran out. Granted, that didn’t take too long, but it still felt like a luxury after months on the road. I hadn’t washed my hair in way too long, and I luxuriated in the feel of the wet strands against the back of my neck. With a happy sigh, I toweled off and curled up in plush pajama pants and a worn out t-shirt. My bed had never looked more inviting, even though it was missing a hot, tattooed biker. Stop it, Ella. You know he’s never gonna be in your bed again. Might as well get the thought out of your head, once and for all.

  But when I went to sleep, my subconscious had other ideas.

  “Ella,” Mickey growled fiercely. “I need you. I’ve never needed anyone the way I need you.”

  My body responded to him like he was its master, the holder of my heart and soul. I could feel moisture making the insides of my thighs slippery. My nipples stiffened and rubbed against the material of my tank top, heightening my arousal by one or two notches.

  Mickey stared at me with his dark blue eyes. “Take your clothes off,” he said. “Leave the panties. I want to see the way you look in panties.”

  I blushed. “I don’t have anything special on,” I said, my blush reddening to a crimson hue. “Just these.” But when I shrugged out of my jeans and kicked them to the floor, I saw that I was clad in an unfamiliar pair. They were made out of bright red satin and pulled tightly across my labia. Just stepping out of my jeans was enough to arouse me, and I shivered.

  “Your shirt,” Mickey growled. “Do I have to pull it off, or were you able to understand me this time?”

  I blushed again. “Yes, sir,” I said. My voice came out as a high squeak. Mickey looked extremely pleased. He gestured for me to go ahead and get on with it. Crossing my arms at my waist, I hooked my fingers into the cotton and pulled it up and over my head. When my breasts were exposed to the air, my nipples became as hard as little pebbles. I moaned softly; just standing in the cool air was enough to make me hornier than ever.

  Mickey looked at me and licked his lips. He had a look on his face that spoke of both determination and lust, and I realized with a slight shiver that I was almost afraid of him. He stood up from his perch on the couch and circled my body, eyeing me with such intensity that I felt more exposed than ever before.

  “Spread your legs,” Mickey ordered softly. When I didn’t comply, he slapped me on the inside of the thigh. “Spread them,” he said, this time in a gruffer voice. A tremor of desire and fear shot through me as I widened my stance to shoulder-length apart. Mickey trailed a rough, calloused finger down the soft skin of my chest. I cried out as he tweaked one of my nipples.

  “Sensitive,” Mickey remarked with a smirk. “I like that, honey. You be sure to stay sensitive for Daddy.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said softly. Mickey leaned in my face and pressed the tip of his nose against mine.

  “Yes, Daddy,” Mickey said. “Say it. Say it, little girl.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” I repeated after him. A hot blush spread over my cheeks and I felt tears of humiliation fill my eyes. Mickey stroked his hand down my body and cupped my breast. He walked around behind me and pulled me close, pressing into my ass with his erection. He kept one hand firmly gripping my breasts and let the other stray between my legs. As his fingers rubbed my pussy through the silky material of the panties, I felt warmth bloom in my lower belly. I moaned softly—it felt so good, he knew just exactly how I liked my clit to be rubbed. Softly, and in circles. Mickey was touching me so slowly that I felt like I was in agony. Soon, the pleasure turned to a sharp cramping feeling and I cried out. I was dripping wetness like a faucet and Mickey rubbed his fingers over the sodden material of my panties. When he lifted his fingers to his nose and sniffed, I felt another kick of arousal in my loins.

  “You smell delicious, little girl,” Mickey said in a gruff whisper. “Would you like a taste?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” I said, obediently opening my lips. Mickey slipped his fingers inside and I licked them hastily with my tongue. My arousal tasted like musk and salt and I felt my clit start to throb. I wanted an orgasm, and I wanted one now! I was so horny that another rub from Mickey’s thumb would send me over the edge. As I licked and sucked at his rough fingers, Mickey moaned softly. He trailed a hand down my belly and slipped it into my panties, stroking my bare labia. As he slipped a finger inside and rubbed my clit, I felt my body explode. Yes! I was going to come, I was going to come so hard!

  “Yes, Daddy! Please!” I gasped excitedly as Mickey rubbed my clit harder and faster. I could feel the little hard nub grinding against his fingers and pleasure exploded in every nerve ending in my body. It felt so good, so amazing, so perfect.

  My eyes flew open. The pleasurable sensations were still flooding my body, and I realized that my hand was stuffed in my panties, rubbing my clit. They weren’t the sexy red silk underwear from my dream, but I’d still managed to get myself off, just from a dream. Daddy. I shivered. There was no way I’d find that sexy in real life, but something about Dream Mickey ordering me to call him Daddy was enough to make me want a second orgasm.

  When I checked my phone, there was a text from an unfamiliar number. For a moment, I was scared that Rob had found a way to contact me again. But when I checked it, the message read:

  Now how’s about that date? ;)

  I blushed hotly. Mickey. Of course, he must have gotten my number when he was playing with my phone the other night. But he was crazy to think that I’d want anything to do with him, especially after he’d told me about the MC. He was a criminal, for god’s sake! And I was starting a new class—advanced anatomy—in a few days. I didn’t have any time to date, much less date giant, tattooed, hulky bikers. I groaned. Stop it, Ella. You know you can’t get involved with him. You know he’s dangerous. You can’t even control yourself around him!

  I tossed the phone down without replying and spent the rest of the day working on household tasks. Mopping the kitchen floor and vacuuming gave me some satisfaction, but what I was really trying to do was take my mind off Mickey. And no amount of cleaning was going to do that, not the way I saw it.

  Around the middle of the day, I took a break. I was sweaty and thirsty and starving, but there was still no food in the house. It had been over fourteen hours since I’d had the breakfast platter, and I was starving. Finally, I slunk into a pair of moccasins and went outside to check the mail. There wa
s a loud thrumming sound coming from the mailbox and when I looked up, I was shocked to see Mickey. He was sitting on his bike and staring at me with a big, goofy grin on his face.

  “Hey, beautiful!” Mickey called. “Now how about giving me that date? I saw you didn’t get my text!” He held up his phone and I realized he was in the process of texting me once again. “Thought I’d stop by and make the request a little more personal.” He’d had a chance to shower since I’d last seen him, and he was wearing blue jeans and a dark checkered shirt with his black leather The Irish vest. As usual, he took my breath away. I let my eyes roam down his stellar, sculpted body and wondered about what he would do to me if I let him take me on a date.

  “I can’t,” I said, but I could already feel my resolve weakening. “I have to study. I’m starting a new class in a few days.”

  Mickey nodded. The grin didn’t leave his face. “I could help you study,” he called loudly, over the roar of his bike. He winked at me. “I’m real good at that,” he said in his lazy, usual manner. “You should see how dedicated I am!”

  I bit my tongue. The way his blond hair was glinting in the sunlight was impossibly sexy and I wanted to walk over and run my hands through it. As Mickey caught me staring at him, he revved the engine. I felt a bolt of lust shoot through me.