Lucky: The Irish MC

by West, Heather

  The Sea Shell Motel was dingy. Made out of pink stucco with sparkles in the walls, it looked like a homely tribute to the ’60s. I could tell that it needed a good wash, but it was clean inside and we’d be safe there. I pulled the rig around back and parked behind some trees before scooping Ella out of the passenger side and setting her on the ground. Her color was high and she was breathing hard—all from my touch. Inside, I felt a worm of pride. She’s so hot for me, she can barely stand to have me pick her up. She’s an amazing chick.

  “Guys, I’m gonna get us a few rooms,” I told the club. They nodded at me. It was like I was already president again, getting the kind of respect that leadership deserved. As I walked cockily towards the motel office, I realized I hadn’t felt that kind of respect in much, much too long. Another reason Ireland had sucked: I got sick of sucking up real fast.

  The bored-looking girl behind the motel counter perked up as I let myself in the grimy glass doors. She was overweight and perched on a stool, the fat on her legs spilling over. Her greasy brown hair was tucked behind her ear with a couple of plastic barrettes and I could see the shine on her skin from six feet away. She looked like she hadn’t had a bath in years. All the same, she looked at me with a seductive wink on her face.

  “Can I help you, handsome?” she asked in a twangy whine. “You lookin’ for a room?”

  “Four, actually,” I said gruffly.

  The girl blushed and covered her fat cheeks with her pudgy hands. “Oh, lawd,” she said, and pretended to fan herself. “You mean there are more big men out there like you?”

  “Not exactly like me,” I said with a grin. “I’m the best.”

  “I bet you are, honey,” the girl said as she watched me peel some bills off the stack and place them on the counter. “That gonna be enough for the rooms?”

  I rolled my eyes. “If you charge me more than forty a room, I’m gonna call that highway robbery,” I said with a smirk. The fat girl’s blush deepened and she greedily took the bills, clutching them to her chest with a squirrel-like defense.

  “Fine,” she said snippily, pushing a handful of keys on plastic tags across the counter towards me. I grabbed them and stuffed them into the pockets of my vest. As I walked out of the motel, I could feel the fat girl’s eyes on me like a brand. I had a feeling she was going to go into the bathroom and rub herself to orgasm after I’d left. I’d never seen that level of excitement in a stranger’s eyes before. You’re so hot, even the fat chicks want you, Jameson, I thought to myself with a wicked grin. You can’t keep these little girls away.

  Ella looked fearful when I scooped her up and carried her up the steps of the motel. We’d gotten adjoining rooms on the second floor, and she appraised my men with the cold medical gleam of a real doctor. In no time at all, she was running the tub for hot water and washing wounds. Most of the guys were okay, but Jimmy needed stitches across his forehead. I winced as I watched her pull the crooked needle and black thread through his skin. It was worse than the injury I’d incurred fucking Ella in her rig the first time, and I remembered very clearly the pain of the stitches.

  “Is everyone alive?”

  Jimmy’s eyes flicked towards me. He opened his mouth but Ella clamped her free hand over it.

  “Don’t even think about talking,” she said in her sweet voice. “Unless you fancy this needle accidentally going in your eye.”

  Jimmy’s face flushed and he looked at me with an apologetic frown. “Sorry,” he mumbled quickly when Ella took her hand away.

  I rolled my eyes. I was still mad, mostly at myself, but also at the whole situation. Seeing my guys wounded and bloody just made the realization sink in—I’d been so selfish, asking them to watch my back while I was with a girl. And not just a girl, Ella. I’d put her in danger, too. I felt like a little shit, but there was nothing to do now but make sure everyone stayed safe.

  Taking a deep breath, I walked out of the room and lit a cigarette. Mason was standing with his hands on the railing, looking out at the empty parking lot. Even though we were just as close to the ocean as we were in Dos Palmos, I couldn’t smell anything but waste and sewage.

  “Sorry about this dump,” I said, gesturing to the motel. “What happened back there?”

  “It was a shitshow,” Mason said. He exhaled loudly and I passed him my cigarette. After he’d taken a deep drag, he looked over the empty lot again.

  “Well?”

  Mason shook his head. “Ain’t nothin’ for you to worry about, boss.”

  “Tell me,” I demanded, my voice growing stern. “I know this is my fault. I know I’m responsible. I just need to know how I can start to fix this.”

  “They settled a score,” Mason said. “I think they were probably hired to come after you after we almost got pulled over the other day. Everyone knows how corrupt the Dos Palmos cops are. We can’t get away with shit.”

  “But they think they can storm in and shoot up my club?” I glared. “Who died?”

  “Two of the prospects got shot when they were barring the doors,” Mason said solemnly. “Their bodies are back at the house. When this shit settles down, we’ll arrange some kind of a funeral. They were good guys, that shouldn’t have happened.”

  I tightened my hands into fists at my sides. “I know,” I said heavily. “It’s all my fuckin’ fault. I got y’all involved in this, and now Ella, too. I can’t let anything happen again, we have to be safe from here on out.”

  From inside the hotel room, there was a shriek. Mason turned to me with a frown and we pushed inside. What I saw made me laugh out loud: Ella was pinning Jimmy down to the bed, tugging his pants down over his skinny hips.

  “He took a bullet in the ass and he won’t let me see it,” she whined, tugging down his leather trousers. “Help me, Mickey!”

  I laughed out loud. “This is too much,” I said casually. On the bed, Jimmy wriggled and groaned. “You have to let her see it, man,” I told him, chuckling. “You don’t want that shit getting infected, do you?”

  “I don’t even have all my necessary equipment,” Ella said. “I’m almost out of antiseptic and thread.”

  I shook my head. “You’re gonna have to do better than that,” I told her softly. “I know it’s hard, but we can’t go to a hospital. Everyone’s gonna be looking for us there, you know that.”

  “I don’t think I can do much more,” Ella said. She yawned and I saw dark circles under her warm brown eyes. For a moment, I longed to pull her into my arms and hold her tight. She was covered in dried blood and I knew she was exhausted. It wasn’t even three in the morning yet, and we had a long way to stay up before we could think of going home.

  “You have to try,” I told her firmly. “For me, please?”

  Ella looked and me and swallowed hard. “Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll keep going.”

  I nodded. “Good girl,” I told her. “You wanna check Mason out?”

  Mason shrugged off his leather vest and let Ella remove his shirt and checked his vitals. He had some shrapnel in his arm but she was able to pull it out on the first try with a gnarly-looking set of medical tweezers.

  “Good,” Ella praised Mason as he sat still. His face showed that he was in a lot of pain, but Ella was working quickly and as well as she could. I was impressed. For someone who’d made it clear she didn’t want an outlaw life, she was doing pretty well.

  “I gotta hand it to you, girl,” I said to Ella after she’d finished with Mason. We were standing on the balcony sharing a cigarette. She’d worked on the guys for hours, and used almost all of her equipment. I knew they’d be patched up enough to hit the road again, but at some point they’d probably need more serious care. After all, Ella wasn’t even a real doctor yet. But she’d done a great job, and I was proud of her. “You done good.”

  “I tried,” Ella said. She looked up at me and blushed. There was a dried smudge of blood on her forehead and I reached up with my thumb to wipe it away. “It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.
”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “What do you mean?”

  Ella blushed deeply. She looked away, pretending to study her hands. They were the perfect hands for a doctor: slim, shapely, with long fingers and delicate squared nails. They’d brought me so much pleasure, but now I knew what they were really capable of.

  “I just mean talking to the guys,” she said softly. “I mean, aside from Jimmy.” She giggled. “He really didn’t want to see his butt, huh?” She laughed, louder and more genuine this time. “I wanted to tell him, look, as a doctor I’m going to have to look at a lot of asses.”

  I chuckled. “You’re exactly right. And you did a great job, really. Thank you so much. I really appreciate your help, Ella.”

  Ella flushed. “You’re welcome,” she said softly. I passed her the cigarette and she hesitated for a second before grabbing it and taking a deep drag. “I mean, I’m glad I could help.” Watching her smoke was funny, like a little kid playing with their mom’s cigarettes. I remembered the first time my mom had caught me smoking: she’d threatened to belt-whip the skin off of me. But she’d never actually done anything about it. I felt horrible—my dad had smoked, and she’d always worried about his cancer. And now my mom, who’d never touched a cigarette a day in her life, was dying from lung cancer. Funny how life worked out.

  “You did more than help,” I told her honestly. “You really saved our asses.”

  Ella grinned. “I’m glad,” she said. “I really am.”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Ella

  By the time I was done stitching up The Irish, it was almost daylight. I was exhausted, but somehow I knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Mickey was watching me intently through the last hour of work that I had to do on Mason’s arm. He didn’t speak, but he watched me work. I felt his eyes burning holes in my clothes, and even though it turned me on, I was riding a huge adrenaline high from the events of the evening.

  I couldn’t believe all of this was happening. It was pretty insane. I couldn’t even think about it, I was still on autopilot.

  With a yawn, I stretched my arms towards the ceiling and looked at Mickey. “I need to shower,” I said, pointing to my clothes. They were stained with the blood of The Irish, and I wouldn’t be able to relax until I’d cleaned up.

  Mickey nodded. “Good idea,” he said. “I’ll run the water for you.” I blushed, thinking he was going to get in the shower. But once he was done, he wiped his hands on his pants and let himself out of the bathroom. I waited until the mirror was fogged up before pulling my clothes off. Even though Mickey had given me a kind of sexual re-awakening, I still didn’t feel comfortable with my body, especially when I was naked. Being naked had always been hard for me, and with Mickey, I wasn’t thinking about anyone but him. But on my own, I still didn’t like the look of my body. I was so pale that I didn’t look like I had any muscle tone and I knew my breasts were small. My hips had always been wide for my frame and my belly was slim, but I looked heavier than I really felt.

  Frowning, I got in the shower. No more thinking about your body, I told myself. Just try to relax. Maybe you can take a nap before we have to leave. The hot water felt amazing on my skin and as I scrubbed the blood from my limbs and closed my eyes, I could feel every muscle in my body starting to melt. The shower was always a quiet, meditative place for me. I had no idea how people could sing or listen to music; all I could think about was getting clean. The hotel soap smelled faintly sour and left a weird film on my skin but I liked the feeling of the hot water gushing over my bare body.

  There was a sound in the bathroom, like the click of a door closing. I pulled back the curtain and looked out. Mickey was standing on the bathroom rug, completely naked. He had a giant erection and he looked at me with a grin on his face.

  “Wanna let me in?” Mickey raised his eyebrows. “I can help you soap your back.”

  Shyly, I pulled the curtain back and let Mickey in the shower with me. He was so big that he took up most of the available space, and I had to crush myself between his big frame and the wall. The hot water blasted on Mickey’s face and he closed his eyes and pressed his face into the spray, groaning as it washed away the dirt and grime of the day.

  “This feels so good,” Mickey mumbled under his breath. He opened his mouth and drank some water, then spat it out on the floor of the tub.

  Before I could reply, he grabbed me with both hands. An electric charge leapt from his body to mine and I felt my relaxed muscles start to tense up again. Mickey stroked my wet body, letting his nails trail along my sensitive skin. He turned me around under the spray and gently massaged my back with his strong hands. I moaned as Mickey’s hands slipped over my shoulders and onto my breasts. He cupped my small breasts in his hand and rubbed his thumbs over my nipples until I was shrieking with pleasure. Instinctively, I wiggled my butt against Mickey and felt his hard cock poking me. I loved being reminded of how large he was. He was the biggest guy that I’ve ever been with, and he really knew how to use his tool.

  “Ella,” Mickey groaned in my ear. “I wanna fuck you now,” he added softly. I moaned and turned around to face him. Mickey stepped closer, shoving his cock between my legs. I rolled my hips and pressed my body against him. The hair on Mickey’s chest was soaked and rubbed up against my nipples, causing a pleasurable sensation in my lower body. As I shivered, Mickey tangled his hands in my wet hair and yanked my head back. He lowered his face to me and started to kiss and lick at the delicate, wet flesh of my neck. I could feel his tongue working its way down my body, and then Mickey dropped to his knees. He wrapped his arms around me and cupped my ass, pulling the cheeks apart and gently spanking them under the stream of the water. It felt incredible and I threw my head back and let out a full-throated moan. Mickey bit and sucked at my nipples, working his teeth over the taut skin. I moaned softly and massaged his wet head with my hands, working in some shampoo.

  “Keep your eyes closed,” I managed to whisper in a breathy voice. “You wouldn’t want to get this in your eyes.” Mickey didn’t respond, he closed his eyes and continued to suckle at my breasts. Pleasure was shooting through my whole body and even though I was soaked from the water, I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter with each passing minute.

  Mickey slipped a hand between my legs and began to rub softly at me. I moaned and spread my legs to allow him further access. Mickey’s thumb found my clit and began pawing at me in delicate circles until I was howling and yelping. It felt so good, like being clenched in the warm haze of some drug. I loved that Mickey knew exactly how to touch me—he could always stimulate me and bring me close to the edge. Even though we’d slept together dozens of times by now, it was still thrilling. Every time he touched me, I got goose bumps all over my body.

  Mickey slid his other hand between the cheeks of my ass. When I realized where his fingers were going, I gasped. Mickey probed the delicate flesh of my asshole as he continued rubbing my clit. It felt strange, definitely not painful, but kind of a full feeling. I moaned as he gently rubbed my most secret entrance. It felt amazing, and I was embarrassed to admit how much I wanted him to keep going. As his ministrations to my clit ramped up, I felt my belly give a kick of lust and arousal. His fingers on my asshole were driving me crazy, but I didn’t want to wait for him to make me come with his fingers. I wanted him now, and I was going to show him exactly how badly.

  Pushing Mickey’s hands away, I pulled him up to his feet and directed him under the spray of the water. He washed the shampoo out of his hair and opened his eyes, staring at me with obvious lust. I knew that he probably wanted to bend me over and make me take his huge cock, but I wasn’t quite ready yet. With a little grin on my face, I sank down on my haunches and nuzzled his giant erection. It bobbed against my face and I blushed. I couldn’t believe that I was sticking my face in Mickey’s crotch, licking at his cock like I was a puppy. Mickey groaned. He buried a hand in my hair and tugged hard. As he swung my head forward, I opened my lips and eager
ly took the first few inches of his hard cock into my mouth. Mickey grunted and pushed his hips against me, shoving his cock down my throat. He tasted incredible, clean with just a hint of musk, and I couldn’t wait to make him beg. I loved sucking Mickey off. It didn’t feel demeaning at all, rather, it was inspiring to have that kind of power in the palm of my hand. Or my mouth.

  Mickey arched his back. The tip of his cock bumped against my soft palate and I wrapped my hand around the base of his erection, pumping in time to the motions of my head. As Mickey groaned and ground his hips against my face, I could feel his cock pulsing. Finally, I knew that I was ready.