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He zipped his jeans and pulled on a T-shirt. “How’re you feeling?”
“A little sore.” Moving to the dresser, she grabbed a fresh set of clothes. Her reflection shone back in the mirror, and she did a double take. Her usually straight hair was mussed and curled at the bottom from their combined sweat. Her lips were bruised but in the best way. Small marks lined her neck and chest, a few darker at her breasts. Heat crept from her toes to her cheeks. All of these were firsts for her.
“After breakfast, I’ll draw you a bath.” He stood behind her.
Seeing them in the mirror, she had to admit they made quite the striking couple. Him completely tatted and muscled, and her pale skin covered in his love marks.
They could both use a bath. The scent of sex lingered in the air, tempting her with every breath.
Turning around, she looped her arms around his neck and closed the minimal distance to his lips. He immediately responded, overwhelming her mouth. She slipped her tongue past his lips and he ravaged her. Flashes from their time last night surfaced and she moaned.
“Isa.” Her name came out shaky and filled with warning.
She kissed his neck, then took a step backward. “I wanted to make sure you were real.”
Doc offered her a boyish grin. “I’m very real, princess. Your entire body should know that by now.”
Giggling at the way he wiggled his brows up and down, she hurriedly threw on her clothes.If we don’t leave the room this instant, we never will.
23
Doc
Everything felt better.The coffee tasted like the beans were grown and ground in the backyard. The sun seemed brighter. The air smelled crisp.Everything is better.
Doc grinned at his motorcycle. He and Cueball delegated the washing of bikes to the prospects, but when it came to make them shine, it was every man for himself. He’d never trust another man with his baby.
Just like I won’t trust anyone else with Isa.
He licked his lips, the taste of her on the tip of his tongue since earlier that morning. All he could think about was Isa and when he could have her again.
Fuck, stop it.
He stood and adjusted his dick. The damn thing never softened when he thought of her.
Seeing his cycle gleam in the sunlight, he checked his cell phone. A message from Hawk stared back at him.
Hawk: Get your ass up here. Church is starting.
“Shit, we’re late.” He whistled to Cueball, and they jogged to the room off the main lodge. It was impenetrable and exactly what Macha needed for a mountainside hideaway. They hurried inside and took the last open seats around the large wood table with the Macha emblem carved in the middle.
“Glad you could join us, boys,” Shovelhead said lowly.
Reaper pounded the gavel and the room silenced. “It’s not good news. The Twelve Brothers crew killed three of our own in Ireland.”
The room erupted with angry voices, calling for vengeance.
“Don’t worry,” Reaper called above the roar. “Our brothers handled it. They’ve taken three hostages. Until the fighting ends, they’ll remain alive.”
“Why? Kill them all!” one of the prospects piped up from his spot alongside the wall. Only members earned the right to sit during church. Something Doc was glad he’d gotten sooner rather than later.
Boulder shot the wiry man a glare. “Are you daft? Our club doesn’t kill to soothe our pain. If killing is necessary, it happens, but to keep the peace, we must try to stay above the law.”
The prospect didn’t retort, and everyone seemed glad to get back to the matter at hand. Dealing with a mouthy prospect was Boulder’s favorite thing to do. No doubt, the man would teach the prospect a lesson once church dismissed.
“The lad’s not wrong.” Every eye in the room turned to Shovelhead. The VP shrugged. “We’ve earned a bit of bloodshed after the way the Twelve Brothers attacked us and threatened our pawn.”
“Isa is a lot more than a pawn,” Rubble said, brows furrowed. “And this is much more than a game of chess.”
