Lucky: The Irish MC (20 page)

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Authors: Heather West

BOOK: Lucky: The Irish MC
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“I want you,” Mickey grunted in a husky voice.

 

Pleasure and desire crested over me like a wave and I closed my eyes and pulled him close, kissing him hard until our teeth were bumping together. He tasted like beer and sweat and tobacco, and suddenly I was afraid this was the last time we’d ever be together. I had no idea what he was up to after this, but I knew it couldn’t be good; after all, we were basically chased here by a gang of rival bikers.

 

“I want you, too,” I whispered hotly into Mickey’s ear. He trailed his fingers down my bare body and slipped one between the folds of my labia. It felt so good that I cried out and wriggled my hips, spreading my legs for Mickey as far as I could. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor before undoing the buckle on his pants and throwing them on the ground. When he was naked, I took a deep breath and looked at him. The energy between us was hungry, intense, and I knew that, suddenly, things had changed. They were more serious, and I could tell just by looking into his blue eyes.

 

Without speaking, Mickey crawled between my legs. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, slipping his body against mine. Arousal, desire, anxiety, and fear were mingling together in my limbs and creating one hell of a rush. I felt like I was lifting off the bed as Mickey pressed his lips to mine in a deep, passionate kiss. He slipped an arm under my back and hauled me up so I was almost sitting. When I looked deeply into Mickey’s eyes, he returned the riveting stare. Without breaking the gaze, Mickey thrust his hips forward until his cock had slid all the way inside of me. I cried out in pleasure—it felt like being released from painful bondage—and soon I felt a wave of perspiration break out over my body. I began to rock my hips against Mickey’s body until his cock was fully plunged inside, bumping against the tip of my cervix. The muscles of my pussy were clenching Mickey tightly, and as he began to thrust in and out, he slipped a hand down to my clit and rubbed it in gentle circles. Pleasure built and built inside of my body until I felt like I was going to explode, but it wasn’t enough. I didn’t just
want
Mickey, I wanted to
disappear
inside Mickey, forever and ever.

 

Mickey craned his neck down and began to nip at my breasts with his teeth. The sensation of his sharp teeth and soft lips and tongue was too much to bear, and I was shrieking and moaning and tangling my hands in his hair after only a few seconds. Mickey knew exactly how to bring my body to the edge and back again. When I was with him, everything else in the world vanished. It no longer mattered that I’d forgotten about school or that my life was in danger. I even forgot about Thelma’s obviously terminal cancer and the effect it could have on Mickey. I might never see him again after tonight, but right now was all that mattered. Closing my eyes, I clenched my muscles and dug my fingernails into Mickey’s back. His teeth closed around my nipple and I cried out with pleasure. Before Mickey, I’d never thought that pain could feel good. But now it just amplified the pleasure. I trusted him completely. I knew that was crazy, but I was beyond crazy at this point. Mickey lifted his head to mine and pressed his salty, damp lips against my own. I moaned softly into his mouth and frantically ground my pelvis against his body. My clit rubbed against Mickey’s taut lower belly and I felt a siege of fiery pleasure in my body.

 

“Ella!” Mickey shrieked in a hoarse tone. He slammed his damp body against mine and lowered his face to kiss my neck. The sensation of his warm lips and tongue sliding over my damp skin was almost enough to send me over the edge. Arousal and pleasure exploded in my lower belly and I closed my eyes and shrieked Mickey’s name as I came harder than ever before. The movements of my body must have set Mickey off because a few seconds later, he groaned and slammed his hips against me. I felt his cock twitch and gush inside of me and the sensation made me shiver.

 

For a moment, we stayed like that, locked together. Then Mickey brushed my damp hair off my forehead and climbed off of me. He was sweating and shaking and he looked at me fiercely.

“I’ll come back,” he said in a serious voice. “You have to trust me, Ella.”

 

I nodded. I couldn’t reply. I was terrified. “What if I never see you again?” I finally managed to choke out in a rough whisper.

 

Mickey shook his head and a trace of his old roguishness came back. “Ain’t gonna happen,” he said with a grin. “You’re stuck with me now, honey.”

 

I blushed. I loved it when he called me honey—it reminded me of the night we first met. “Okay,” I said finally. My throat felt as dry as paper and I felt tears start to well in my eyes as Mickey got dressed.

 

When he left, he kissed me and Thelma. “Take care of each other,” Mickey ordered me. “Make sure Mom’s comfortable.”

 

I nodded. At least taking care of Thelma could make me feel useful. Since I’d patched up most of the MC with my supplies, I didn’t have a lot left. But I could always keep an eye on her heart rate and make sure she always had food if she wanted.

 

“I will,” I promised. Mickey’s deep blue eyes zoomed in and focused on me. I felt just as naked and exposed as ever. I wanted him to come back to bed. I wanted him to wrap me up in his arms and never let go. I wanted him, all of him, forever.

 

“I promise,” he said solemnly.

 

I nodded. I couldn’t help the tears any longer, and they dripped down my face. Mickey walked towards me and knelt down. As he brushed his knuckles gently over my cheeks, the tears turned into sobs. Mickey leaned forward to kiss my cheek, and then he was gone.

 

When I was alone, I curled up with my face pressed into my knees and sobbed openly. I couldn’t help it—I had such a bad feeling about the whole situation. It wasn’t going to be easy to come out the other side, the odds were stacked against Mickey and the club. I suspected the corrupt cops that Mickey had told me about were behind this. Who else would care about him coming back and resuming office?

 

I giggled. Something about the phrase ‘resuming office’ was funny. It wasn’t like Mickey was a politician, or an elected official. But he
was
the president of The Irish and I knew he took his role just as seriously as the president of the United States did.

 

Suddenly, I felt selfish. Here I was, tucked away in the back of the cabin, bawling my eyes out, and Thelma was probably alone in the living room, probably feeling even worse than I did. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to have your son disappear for months when she was so sick. The thought made me want to start crying all over again. I hopped out of bed and got dressed. I remembered seeing a fireplace in the living room, maybe Thelma and I could hang out for a while and warm up.

 

“I was wondering where you’d gone off to,” Thelma said. I blushed at the sight of a sly twinkle in her eye. I knew that she knew
exactly
what Mickey and I had been doing, but bless her heart, she didn’t say anything else.

 

“I’m freezing,” I complained. “Do you want me to build a fire? I saw some of the guys chopping wood earlier.”

 

Thelma nodded and shot me a grateful smile. She somehow looked even more thin and wan than she had earlier in the day, and I knew that she must be in a lot of pain.

 

“I would love that, dear,” she said softly. I watched as she lowered herself onto the couch with a little effort. “Thank you.”

 

“Of course,” I said. As I went outside, it felt even colder but I was grateful for the chance to be outdoors. Something about the cabin felt damp and stuffy to me. I smiled, taking a step backwards to properly look at it. The cabin itself wasn’t luxurious but I could tell that it had been well cared for. The furniture inside was comfortable but visibly old and worn, and I could tell that it was probably mostly original. I ran my hand over the glazed wood of the outside. It was smooth and hard.
A little like Mickey
, I thought with a grin as I grabbed some logs from a pile. Mentally thanking Jimmy for chopping wood earlier, I hauled enough inside and dumped them in the fireplace.

 

Thelma was shivering and sitting with her eyes closed when I got back inside. For a moment, I was scared that she’d died. But she opened her eyes and watched as I re-arranged the wood in the fireplace.

 

“Thank you, dear,” she said again. “I really appreciate that.”

 

“No problem,” I said. It was
really
chilly inside—almost colder than it had been outdoors. I saw that the cabin was drafty around the windows and doors.

 

“Do you like it up here?” Thelma gave me a smile and sipped some of the tea I’d prepared.

 

We were sitting in front of a roaring blaze and I was just now beginning to feel my limbs warm up. My jeans had gotten wet earlier from the floor in the bedroom—I made a mental note to go back there and check for a leak. Mickey was nice enough to have me up here, the least I could do was make sure everything was in working order.

 

“I do,” I said softly. I turned my face to the fire and closed my eyes, letting my skin heat up. It felt delicious, and suddenly I wished more than anything for Mickey’s safe return. I saw him scooping me up and gently depositing me on the floor, then stripping my clothes off and fucking me by firelight. A shiver of pleasure went through my body and I had to suppress the urge to let out a soft moan.

 

“I’ve always found it so peaceful,” Thelma said. Although we weren’t talking much, the silence between us was comfortable. I appreciated that she was so easy to be around. Families may not have been my area of expertise, but I knew enough about myself to know how awkward I could be. I always imagined my future in-laws to be cold and calculating people, but Thelma was so comfortable and relaxing. I wondered if she’d always been this way, or if it was a more recent development. Sometimes cancer patients could be so cranky. But Thelma truly seemed to take each moment as a gift, and I respected that more than I could say.

 

“It is,” I said slowly. “Are you worried?”

 

Thelma nodded. “To be honest, I always worry,” she admitted. “But my son is one of the strongest and smartest men I know. I wouldn’t be concerned for too long. He’s always kept his word, you see. He never had to come back, but he came home for me.”

 

“But weren’t you scared to be alone for so long?”

Thelma shook her head. She touched a small gold crucifix at her neck. “I’m never alone,” she said. “I always have the Lord with me.”

 

I blushed. I didn’t know what to say; I hadn’t been raised Christian, and I barely knew anything about their theology. But still, there was something touching about Thelma’s faith. She had every reason to be angry about her cancer, but she seemed truly at peace with it all. I admired that about her. She was so serene, just being around her was like having a glass of wine.

 

“I’m sure you do,” I said, feeling awkward.

 

Thelma reached out and took my hand. Her skin was as thin and dry as paper and I could feel all of the bones in her delicate hand.

 

“I know you’re scared,” she said softly. “But he’ll be back, Ella. For me, but mostly for you. He knows you’re his future.”

 

I frowned. “We barely know anything about each other,” I told her honestly. “We only met a few days ago. It’s been…intense.”

 

She chuckled. “Mickey’s always been intense,” she told me. “But this time is different. He’s never let women hang around before, especially not around me. I knew you were something special from the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

 

I blushed. “Really?”

Thelma nodded. “Really, truly,” she said softly.

For a while, we sat in silence. I kept looking over at Thelma and marveling to myself. She was the smallest woman I’d ever seen; I couldn’t believe that she’d given birth to someone as giant as Mickey.

 

“Did you ever want more kids?” I asked suddenly. I blushed after I’d uttered the words aloud. It was rude to ask, and I knew that I shouldn’t have, but I was dying to know.

Thelma turned towards me and for the first time, I noticed that she had the same dark blue eyes that Mickey had. “I always wanted more. But Shane and I couldn’t manage to find the time, and then when we did, it was too late. Mickey was always the center of our lives, but I can’t help but feel he would have grown up happier if he’d had a lot of little brothers and sisters to play with. I wanted him to have a sister so he could learn how to treat women from an early age. But I wanted him to have brothers so he’d have playmates.”

 

I grinned. “He does have brothers, though,” I told her. “The MC. They’re his brotherhood.”

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