Chapter 1
Chapter
One
SKULL
“Hey Skull, guess what he did.” I roll my eyes at Mayhem.
“I’m just recounting the importance of safe sexual practices.” Nova grins as I turn to join the conversation.
I already regret involving myself.
“What are you shite heads talking about.” Whip turns at my words, and I see the amusement in his eyes even if he isn’t smiling.
Fucker never does.
“Well, we were discussing the benefits of the male orgasm,” Nova starts when Whip snorts.
“We were talking about five guys in a circle jerk.” I arch an eyebrow.
“I’m telling you that isn’t enough.” I raise my hand to stop Mayhem from speaking, although I’m intrigued by how this topic even came up.
“Five guys isn’t enough? For what?” Fuck sake, I just fell into their trap.
I grind my teeth when all their smirks turn my way.
FUCK.
“That’s not important. What we need to know from our medical professional is this. If it’s recommended to use a flared base, why is fisting ok?” Nope.
I spin around and try to walk away, but the fuckers follow me, peppering me with more idiotic questions.
“STOP!” The whole clubhouse grows quiet.
“It’s a legit question!” Whip finally says, and I let out a long sigh.
“Fine, ask.” I cross my arms and brace myself for the bullshit.
“Back to fisting,” Nova never gets to finish.
“We’re not fisting anyone, you two.” I cut him and the others off and stomp my arse out of the clubhouse to the sound of their laughter.
“That’s what you say now! Wait till you fall.” Nova snickers as I wave him off.
“Falling in love has been a series of unfortunate events for all you sorry chaps. I refuse to join you down that road to hell.” They all laugh now.
When they call me back in later because one of them fuckers stuck a lava lamp up their arse as an experiment, I’m sending the call to voicemail.
I mount my Harley and make my way to the building we acquired a few months ago.
The club hasn’t had a chance to hire a building manager yet, but to be honest, I’m loving the solitude. With only one other tenant, whom I hardly ever see, it’s easy to find peace, until nightfall, when every single noise you can think of comes from her apartment.
At first, I thought she was having parties, but when I went to investigate, it turned out to be her TV.
I wanted to suggest a hearing test but didn’t want to seem rude since she’s so fucking skittish.
Aye, my wee kitten runs whenever she sees me, and I live for the moments I can glance at her because she’s fucking beautiful. Our one chance encounter during a fire drill weeks ago has been a repeating dream that has somehow turned erotic over time.
Now my dick just hardens at the mere thought of her.
I slam the back door open to the building, and as my foot hits the stairs, I hear it.
The musical tone of her voice. I’ve only heard it once but it was enough to make an impression and set my blood boiling. I turn on my heels and march my ass down to the basement where our laundry room is and swear under my breath.
“No, no, no, no, no!” she chants, and I can see why.
I slow my steps and grab the handrail. When the soap bubbles pour out of the laundry room, I slowly climb back up the stairs.
“What in the world?” I plant my feet carefully and use the wall and doorframe to keep myself upright.
“Please stop! I didn’t even use that much.” Ivy is in a pair of shorts that ride up her ass crack every time she bends over to fill a pail of bubbles before dumping into the utility sink.
“Are you in need of assistance, me lady?” She spins to look at me and loses her footing with a little yelp.
I reach out to grab her, and we both lose the battle, falling into the mess of water, soap, and bubbles.
“OUCH!” Ivy sits up, rubbing her elbow, and I can’t help chuckling at the way the bubbles are taller than her.
“Are you ok?” I reach for her arm, but she recoils.
“Me?! I’m flooding the basement and making the laundry room into a slip-and-slide! I only used a capful, I swear.” Her eyes fill with tears, and I hold up my hands.
“Easy, Lass, it’s not the end of the world. We’ll sort this mess, but right now, your injury is more important. I’m the club’s medic, remember? May I take a look?” I point at her elbow again, and she bites her lip before nodding and slowly moving closer to me.
And that’s when I noticed it.
Her white t-shirt is soaked, and she isn’t wearing a bra. I averted my eyes quickly and hoped she wouldn’t catch my lapse of judgment before I returned my attention to her elbow.
“Does this hurt?” I raise her arm and rotate the joint, feeling it pop.
She grimaces but shakes her head.
“I want you to ice it tonight. If it swells come see me.” I drop her arm and move back but slip on a piece of fabric going down into the water and soap for a moment.
I hadn’t noticed how much water was sitting on the floor until now.
When I resurface completely drenched, I find Ivy watching me with her hands over her mouth and a look of pure mortification. I stand up quickly and shake my body, trying in defeat to remove some of the water seeping through my clothes.
“How did this happen?” I turn to look around and find that the left side of my vision is blocked by fabric.
I pluck the item off my head and hold them out in front of me.
Bloomers.
“Are these your nana’s?” I smile as I tease her, enjoying the crimson spreading across her face.
“No! None of your business. You’ve got a lot of nerve to judge me when you’re over there wearing a fucking skirt.” She snatches the undergarment from my hands and balls it up in her fist before hiding them behind her back.
“My tartan isn’t a skirt, lassy. It’s a kilt.”