just enough cleavage. I didn't remember sleeping with a scientist last night. But there was a first time for everything.
I looked around and realized I was laying in the middle of a hospital room.
The blinds were closed, only letting in a sliver of sunlight. The beeping noise I heard earlier was coming from the monitor next to me. The room had that classic sterile smell that haunted every hospital. A tube ran from my arm to a IV pouch hanging on a coat rack. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. The doctor noticed me and quickly brought out a pen flashlight.
“Don't try to move yet. I don't want you to pull out your stitches,” she softly said.
Wait...stitches? What happened to me last night? I tried to remember but my head was a blank. It felt like another blackout from being too drunk.
“Follow my pen with your eyes.” She leaned in closer and I got a whiff of her addictive flowery perfume. She drew a line across my face with the flashlight and I tried my best to follow it. “Good job, Breaker.”
I wanted to hear her moan my name as I plunged into her.
She poured me a cup of water from a pitcher and brought it to my lips. The water rejuvenated my throat and mouth, bringing me back to life. Her hand grabbed my wrist and a static shock jolted through me. My heart raced at her touch. What the fuck was going on?
The doctor looked confused as she watched the monitor. “We might need to run some tests on your heart.”
“What happened?” My voice was gravelly as the words came out.
Dagger was standing in the doorway with the rest of the MC. “You are one tough son of a bitch, Breaker.”
I tried to sit up but my arms were so weak. “Take it easy,” the beautiful doctor said, lowering me back down onto the bed.
“I'll leave you guys alone to visit but don't strain him too much. He needs his rest.”
“Don't worry, Doc, we'll watch over him,” Dagger said.
The doctor gave me one last look before she left. I didn't want her to go. The pulsing in my pants was telling me to make her wrap her lips around my length until I flooded her mouth.
Mike, the Sgt-at-Arms, came over to my bedside. He was the biggest out of all of us—almost 6'4'' and strong as an ox. We liked to call him our big oaf.
“What happened?” I choked out.
Big Mike laughed heartily. “You don't remember?”
I shook my head.
Emily came through the crowd and held my hand. She was what you would call our den mother. Her arms were sleeved in tattoos and her long brown hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in ages. She dated Pain, the President, for years and decided to stick around after they broke up. Now she took care of us. “Honey, you were in a bar fight and got stabbed. We thought we lost you.”
The memories of the Stinky Goat came rushing back—the hot redhead, the bloody brawl, the knife in my back. My blood began to boil.
Emily put her hand on my chest to calm me down. “The doctor told us you lost a lot of blood but the wounds weren't serious. You're going to be fine.”
My muscles relaxed and my heart beat slowed back to normal. I lay back down on the hospital bed and let out a sigh. Everything was going to be okay.
Pain came up and shook my hand. His horn-rimmed glasses gave him a sophisticated look while his gray hairs gave away his age. “Rest up, Breaker. We want you back as soon as possible.”
“I feel good. Let's go home.” I sat up and the room began to spin—a feeling I was all too familiar with. I stood up and steadied myself. My knees were wobbly and my legs weak. I took a step and Dagger had to hold my arm to keep me from crashing down.
“What's going on in here?” The blonde doctor rushed into the room and grabbed my arm away from Dagger.
“I feel good, Doc. It's time to go home.” Her hand on my arm felt nice.
“Over my dead body,” she said with conviction. The doctor
I looked around and realized I was laying in the middle of a hospital room.
The blinds were closed, only letting in a sliver of sunlight. The beeping noise I heard earlier was coming from the monitor next to me. The room had that classic sterile smell that haunted every hospital. A tube ran from my arm to a IV pouch hanging on a coat rack. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. The doctor noticed me and quickly brought out a pen flashlight.
“Don't try to move yet. I don't want you to pull out your stitches,” she softly said.
Wait...stitches? What happened to me last night? I tried to remember but my head was a blank. It felt like another blackout from being too drunk.
“Follow my pen with your eyes.” She leaned in closer and I got a whiff of her addictive flowery perfume. She drew a line across my face with the flashlight and I tried my best to follow it. “Good job, Breaker.”
I wanted to hear her moan my name as I plunged into her.
She poured me a cup of water from a pitcher and brought it to my lips. The water rejuvenated my throat and mouth, bringing me back to life. Her hand grabbed my wrist and a static shock jolted through me. My heart raced at her touch. What the fuck was going on?
The doctor looked confused as she watched the monitor. “We might need to run some tests on your heart.”
“What happened?” My voice was gravelly as the words came out.
Dagger was standing in the doorway with the rest of the MC. “You are one tough son of a bitch, Breaker.”
I tried to sit up but my arms were so weak. “Take it easy,” the beautiful doctor said, lowering me back down onto the bed.
“I'll leave you guys alone to visit but don't strain him too much. He needs his rest.”
“Don't worry, Doc, we'll watch over him,” Dagger said.
The doctor gave me one last look before she left. I didn't want her to go. The pulsing in my pants was telling me to make her wrap her lips around my length until I flooded her mouth.
Mike, the Sgt-at-Arms, came over to my bedside. He was the biggest out of all of us—almost 6'4'' and strong as an ox. We liked to call him our big oaf.
“What happened?” I choked out.
Big Mike laughed heartily. “You don't remember?”
I shook my head.
Emily came through the crowd and held my hand. She was what you would call our den mother. Her arms were sleeved in tattoos and her long brown hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in ages. She dated Pain, the President, for years and decided to stick around after they broke up. Now she took care of us. “Honey, you were in a bar fight and got stabbed. We thought we lost you.”
The memories of the Stinky Goat came rushing back—the hot redhead, the bloody brawl, the knife in my back. My blood began to boil.
Emily put her hand on my chest to calm me down. “The doctor told us you lost a lot of blood but the wounds weren't serious. You're going to be fine.”
My muscles relaxed and my heart beat slowed back to normal. I lay back down on the hospital bed and let out a sigh. Everything was going to be okay.
Pain came up and shook my hand. His horn-rimmed glasses gave him a sophisticated look while his gray hairs gave away his age. “Rest up, Breaker. We want you back as soon as possible.”
“I feel good. Let's go home.” I sat up and the room began to spin—a feeling I was all too familiar with. I stood up and steadied myself. My knees were wobbly and my legs weak. I took a step and Dagger had to hold my arm to keep me from crashing down.
“What's going on in here?” The blonde doctor rushed into the room and grabbed my arm away from Dagger.
“I feel good, Doc. It's time to go home.” Her hand on my arm felt nice.
“Over my dead body,” she said with conviction. The doctor
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