Lucky: The Irish MC Read Free Page A

knew that the transition might suck, that we’d lose some overhead, but we’d be okay. We were the fucking Irish. No matter what had happened while I was gone, we’d be fine.
     
    I’d “inherited” the club from my old man. He’d been the president, and one of the original members of The Irish. He’d died in a crash, and while it had been an accident, sometimes I had my suspicions otherwise. I knew that the MC hadn’t had anything to do with it, but sometimes I wondered. The MC had been involved with the Dos Palmos cops for years and years, and sometimes the cops were even more corrupt than the MC had been. It was shocking to discover the perversity of law enforcement. Sometimes, it made me feel like anyone who felt safe with cops around was a moron. Other times, it just reinforced how dog-eat-dog the world really was.
     
    I want a woman , I thought, licking my lips. The carton was dark and hot and I could feel myself sweating uncontrollably. The truck bounced over a rock and I went flying and bumped my head on the roof of the crate. Yelping, I rubbed my head with my hand. It came away sticky and I knew that I must be bleeding a little bit. I grinned to myself. That would just make everything easier when the time came. Women loved tough guys, and if you had a bruise or a cut, all the better. I saw myself at a bar with a few women stroking my arm and giving me sympathetic looks. Maybe I could get one of them to play nurse. I’d let her treat me and lay still until her guard was down. Then, when she didn’t expect it, I’d slip my hands up her dress and squeeze her ass. God, just the thought was enough to make me hard. I closed my eyes and imagined some faceless, gorgeous brunette leaning over me and taking my erection into her waiting, willing mouth. I wanted to slip my hand between my legs and jerk myself off, but I knew that I had to wait. I hadn’t had a good fuck in a long time, and I more than intended to make up for it tonight.
     
    After I got home, I was going to take a long, hot shower. Then maybe I’d head out to the clubhouse or the bar and party. I knew that the MC would throw me a party, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to start there. After all, I’d been gone so long that I knew some business would creep into the fun. And I’d missed the club more than anything, but I wanted some time to relax. Even if they wanted to talk about me voting me in as president again, I didn’t want to deal with that tonight. All I wanted was a woman.
     
    “And a woman I’ll find,” I said aloud. Over the rumble of the rig driving, I barely heard my voice. I knew how I’d sound though: rough, ready to rumble, hulking. I grinned. I was definitely all of those things. I wasn’t really a vain guy, but when women climbed all over me all the time, I knew that I had to look good. Or maybe they just want to fuck a patched member of The Irish , I thought. Who knows? Who cares? I definitely didn’t care. When I wanted a woman, I wanted her for the night. With few exception, it was always that way. I never wanted to stay with anyone long enough to get bored with them, and I knew that getting bored was always a possibility. I’d been around the MC long enough to see how it worked. Even my old man had stayed as loyal to my mom as possible—but it wasn’t loyal enough. They had a kind of arrangement going on. It basically boiled down to: “Not in Dos Palmos.” When Dad was on the road, he could go where he pleased and do what he wanted. But my mom, who had been a formidable old lady, wasn’t ready to be cheated on under her nose. I had a feeling that it had taken her years to be able to look the other way.
     
    I missed Mom, too, but I knew that I couldn’t see her just yet. For one thing, I was going to scratch this little itch of mine and then take care of some club business. As soon as I was feeling back to normal, back to regular Mickey, I’d go see her. I owed her a long visit. She still didn’t know why I’d