Doc's Ember: Devil Iron MC Book 4 (Devil Iron MC Series) Read online

  Doc’s Ember

  Devil’s Iron MC Book 4

  By

  GM Scherbert

  Copyright © 2016 by GM Scherbert

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2016

  ISBN:

  Cover Design: Cover Couture

  Photo Copyright: FXQuadro/Shutterstock

  Photo Copyright: Likoper/Shutterstock

  Photo Copyright: lassedesignen/Shutterstock

  Editing: Avril Stepowski

  ~Prologue~

  ~Doc

  Seeing Ember after more than five years spent wondering what the fuck was going on with her, did not go any way that I thought it would have possibly gone. I let my anger get the best of me and took it out on her. Saying some of the most hurtful things that I could not believe I would ever say to this woman: the woman that I have been obsessed with since the first time I saw her.

  The next day when I found out about the little boy that she had been keeping from me I flew off the handle yet again. This time, however, I walked away instead of saying something that I would again regret. Fuck, I should not have walked away!

  ~Ember

  When I saw Vincent standing on the other side of the bar that night, feelings that I have been trying to keep at bay for five years came rushing back. Then he spoke and the anger that raged through his voice told me all that I needed to know.

  He did not feel the same way he did all those years ago. His tone was only outweighed by the harsh and hurtful words that he spoke.

  The next day seeing him look into the face of his son for the first time and seeing his pain, my heart is again ripped out by the choices that I had to make.

  ~Chapter One~

  ~Doc

  I have never been a one-woman man, or ever settled down or been with a woman for more than a night or two in all fucking honesty. That just gives them too many ideas, and I don’t have time for that shit. All I have time for is to release some pent up aggression and blow off some steam in between the jobs I run for the brothers. They have been my only family for as far back as I can remember, and I can’t see that changing anytime soon.

  The first night that I saw Ember, her long red hair drew me in and those piercing green eyes told me that she would be nothing but fucking trouble. One look at her changed everything for me in an instant, a trouble that I could not walk away from, even if that is what I wanted. The kind of trouble that I needed to be buried in as frequently as possible for as long as I could keep a hold of her.

  That night will be forever etched on my brain; five long years ago, and it seems like only yesterday. She looked so young in that clubhouse amongst the other girls. We were celebrating another successful run and Prez found some new girls to help us celebrate. Ember was one of those girls, I know that Prez makes sure that all the girls are over eighteen, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she had somehow slipped through. She looked so out of place compared to the usually line up of club whores and women that we see in here.

  Getting up from the bar, after grabbing another beer, I slowly make my way towards her. Her eyes slowly make their way up my body before she reaches my eyes. Her eyes hit the floor, but not before I see them fill with lust and fear as a blush creeps over her face. What the fuck am I getting myself into?

  “Ofiara, what are you doing here? You don’t fit in with the women who are usually here. Are you even old enough to be here?” I say raising her chin with a finger and looking into her eyes.

  “I am old enough to be here, I turned eighteen a few months ago. What does that word mean that you said to me? Ofera?”

  “Ofiara. We will get to that shortly, but first I need to get you out of here before the rest of the brothers take note of you.”

  “I’m sorry, but I am not going anywhere with you. I don’t even know your name, let alone anything else about you. I might be young, but I am not fucking stupid to the way this situation works. If you want something from me, we will not be leaving this clubhouse, my ride home is over there,” she said, pointing towards one of the other woman that Prez brought to help us celebrate tonight.

  “Ok, Ofiara. We will go into my room then to talk, nothing more. Come with me.” Looking over her barely there clothing, I can’t stop from putting my arm around her shoulder, making sure to brush the long red locks to the side as I do, moving her quickly towards my room at the back of the clubhouse. I am not sure if I want to cover up the flesh that is hanging out, or rip those scraps of clothing off of her and mark this young thing as mine.

  That was the beginning of the end for me, the first night we met, a night that I can’t forget no matter how long I have tried. Five fucking years I have tried to forget her and for five fucking years I have not forgotten a single thing about her: the pattern of freckles on her nose, her feel, her smell, her touch, and the way she would bend for me.

  Fucking hell, why can’t I forget her?

  ~Ember

  I remember the first night I was alone with Vincent like it was yesterday. Of course, he thinks that was the first time that we talked, he would be wrong, though. He did not recognize me and I sure as fuck was not going to bring up that I had been with Clutch and the Knights MC Clubhouse the last time that we met. Those years spent with Clutch were nowhere near my best, and the constant domineering and demeaning way that I was treated really wore on me.

  Seeing Vincent on and off over the past two years in the Knights’ clubhouse when he has come to party, I have always been drawn to him. I am not sure why, I mean, he is fucking gorgeous: tall, built, older, and tattooed, but there is just something about him which I can’t seem to deny.

  Only having the chance to talk with him on a few brief occasions, each time I have found ease and peace while speaking with him. The conversations have, however, lead to harsh consequences from Clutch on the occasions when he caught wind of my speaking with Doc. One time, when he thought something was going on with Doc, he passed me around to his brothers to show me what would happen if even my eye wandered too far from him. That was one of the worst nights of my life. I wish I did not know how much worse it could truly get.

  Never sharing the details of those days is something that I have found helps to keep me sane. I know all the horrible things that have happened to me, and would hate for people to look at me with pity. I am stronger based on what fucking Clutch has done to me over the years. I am stronger for having left him, and being determined enough to get and stay away from him. I am even stronger to have stayed away from Vincent for years.

  That first night I spent with Vincent in his room at the Clubhouse was not how you would have imagined it, especially with my previous experiences with Clutch and that Clubhouse.

  Vincent and I sat up until the early hours of the morning and talked. I told him bits and pieces about my childhood and why I left that shit behind me at sixteen. I told him about Clutch but, didn’t mention him by name, leaving out most of the dark points in that relationship. Only speaking about his controlling ways and the way he would sometimes become violent and unpredictable when he would drink.

  Vincent didn’t try to fuck me that night; he didn’t even kiss me when I think back. When I woke up the next day, he was still fully dressed, sitting on the chair next to the bed I had been sleeping on, looking at me like I was some kind of treasure or his most prized possession
.

  “Ofiara, you sleep so peacefully, I couldn’t help but watch you. You should get up though, it is well past noon. I will take you home on my bike. Come on, Ofiara,” he said, reaching out to me. I extend my hand to him and he helps me off of the bed, pulling me into his arms for a tight hug. It is the weirdest thing, but I swear that he smells my hair as I am in his arms. Pulling back, I look up into his hazel eyes and see so much emotion in them that I am uneasy.

  I cannot stop myself from asking him the one thing that has been on my mind since last night.

  “Vincent what does that word mean? Ofiara?”

  With a chuckle his eyes raise to mine and he answers quietly, “It is a Polish word and it is something that my grandfather would frequently say.”

  “Who would he say it to? You?”

  Laughing louder he answers, “No, Ofiara, not me. He would say it when he was talking to my grandmother. It just means gift.”

  Shaking out of his memories he reaches for me quickly, helping me up off of the bed. As I am walking towards the door, Vincent is on my heels, helping to steer me through the clubhouse and out to his bike. Handing me his helmet, I strap it on with no problem. Looking at him swinging his leg over the bike and nodding towards me to get on, I do so with ease. Trying to sit back away from him, I am quickly pulled forward with rough hands under my knees one at a time. Wrapping my arms lightly around him, he pulls out of the parking lot after asking where I live. As we make our way through the streets, I find myself leaning closer into him and running my fingers over his abs absentmindedly. As we turn onto my street, he stops my hands and I see his head shaking from side to side.

  Five years later and I remember it as if it were yesterday. Five years later and I am brought to the same feelings that I had that first night. When I see him again for the first time, flying off the handle at both Pearl and I at the Dungeon, it is a bruised version of the man that I have loved since that night those years ago.

  He has changed in the years that I have been away, fuck, we have both changed, a lot, but I cannot help the feelings that come to the surface in the moment. The feelings that have only longed to be returned for over five long years.

  ~Chapter Two~

  ~Five years ago~

  ~Doc

  I was not lying to Ember when I told her what Ofiara meant. I just left out a more detailed meaning than what she needed. Ofiara is more than a gift, it is a possession, a treasured something that you will not let go, let out of your sight, especially not letting it slip through your fingers. That is how I felt about her the instant I saw her and our eyes met.

  Ember has me wrapped around her little finger within days, fuck minutes, of our first meeting, with her sweet demeanor, sassy attitude, and caring ways. I am over at her place constantly when I am not at the clubhouse for Church or on runs for the brothers. We have not been apart for more than a day or two since the night that we met. I have even taken to sleeping at her place and not staying at the Clubhouse even one night since then.

  Blaze quickly took note of the change in my routine and began ribbing me for not being around. Constantly questioning where I am spending my nights and if there is a bitch that I am fucking. He is my closest friend and I knew that it would not be long before he started to notice my missing presence at the Clubhouse. I have not, and will not, lie to my brother, but I just can’t bring myself to share her with him, or them, yet.

  When I spend the time with Ember it is never at the Clubhouse. She has asked if we will go back there and my answer has not wavered. I will never share her with my brothers, until she has my collar around her neck, my patch on her back, and my ink on her body.

  Only some of the older brothers have ol’ ladies and I am sure as fuck not going to be rushing into anything, but it is never far from my mind with Ember. I haven’t even had a taste of her yet and I cannot stop the thoughts of having her forever.

  As Ember began to tell me more about this ex of hers, I saw red. The scars I have seen on her are only matched by ones that are tattooed on her mind and soul. The first night she mentioned him and the fucking abuse I lost it, scaring her, which I swore I would not do again after seeing the fear in her eyes. Since then it has been like pulling teeth to get her to speak of it, and I have only heard small bits. Ember will not tell me the fucker’s name and I assume that is because she knows what will happen if I ever find him.

  What the fuck am I supposed to do with her? I want her more than I have ever wanted anything, but the way I want her. FUCK. She has been abused for years from that piece of shit ex and all I can think about is taking her under my thumb, tying her up, and fucking her into oblivion.

  What the fuck is wrong with me? It would just be better if I left her alone and went back to the way things were before I met her. I know that if I sink into her, I will be lost to any other woman for as long as I live.

  How the fuck is that possible? How after only a short time do I know that this is the woman that I want, no need, in my life? I do not believe in fucking fate, but when it hits you in the face, it is hard to deny.

  ~Ember

  After almost a month of seeing Vincent almost daily, we still have not done more than kiss. I wonder if he is fucking somebody and why he has not tried anything with me. Maybe he has an old lady. Why else hasn’t he taken me to the Clubhouse, or really anywhere for that matter? Is he ashamed of me? Do we even mean anything to each other?

  Well, I know what he means to me, Vincent, on the other hand, is not quite as transparent as I think that I am. He spends so much time here, but maybe he is just looking out for me like a brother might do? I never had anyone except my dad looking out for me, so I guess that he could just be taking me under his wing to help get me over the darkness.

  The way he took over after finding me in the Clubhouse that night made my knees weak. He got me home safely and has done so much for me over the past month. Pushing me to get a job, which I start next week, helping to fix some stuff around this crappy apartment that the landlord refused to address. When he sits and listens to me ramble on about any and everything with this smirk on his face, I can’t help but fall more for him.

  Why hasn’t he tried anything though? What is wrong with me? Maybe I am not even good enough for him to fuck.

  Then why is he constantly touching me and rubbing his hard cock against me in his sleep? His hands roam over my body with little thought as we sleep, and it is my favorite time of the day. I don’t sleep for want of his touch, I just lay awake at night and wait for it.

  Vincent has started to notice my lack of sleep though.

  One morning after yet another week of nothing more than kissing, I must look worse for the lack of sleep, because Vincent addresses me as the sun comes up. Raising up to his elbow he questions, “Ofiara, why are you not sleeping at night? Is it too much for me to be in your bed? I know that piece of shit ex really did a number on you and I am trying to do my best to give you time to heal, but it has not been easy.”

  Turning to him I say, “What? What are you talking about, Vincent? Is that why you haven’t been touching me except in your sleep? I thought that you didn’t want me or that there was someone else.”

  “No, Ofiara, there is no one else. I fucking want you so much it is hard for me to keep my hands to myself most of the time. I want you to be comfortable with me and I don’t want to force myself on you when you are…”

  Cutting him off, I lean forward and take his mouth with mine. Starting a kiss that does not take much time to consume us both.

  Pushing him down onto the bed, I scoot onto him and slowly make my way down his chest kissing, licking, and nibbling all the way.

  Rough hands tug at my hair, stopping me once I reach his boxers and forcing my eyes to meet his.

  “Ofiara, there is no going back from this.” Letting go with one of his hands he slowly trails his fingers across my lips, “Once that gorgeous mouth is wrapped around my cock you will be mine, and mine alone, for as long as I live. I never thought
that I would find someone to put ink on, and I sure as fuck didn’t think it would happen so fast, but that is the way it is.”

  “Vincent…”

  “Let me finish, Ember. If you keep this up, mine will be the last cock that ever touches you. The last cock in that pretty mouth of yours. The last cock in that juicy cunt of yours. The last cock that goes into that tight little ass of yours. I will be the last man that touches you for as long as I live. I will not accept anything less from you. Is that something that you can live with, Ofiara?”

  “As long as it works both ways Vincent. If your cock is the last one that I will belong to, then you in turn will only be buried in my pussy, my ass, or my mouth for the same time.”

  “Ofiara, you are truly one of a kind.” Grabbing my chin, he raises my head and takes my mouth with his. “There is no one I want except you, there hasn’t been since the first day I saw you. I have no problem telling you that you are the only one I wish to be with, or that you are the only one I will be buried inside until I am put to ground. I am not some young fucking punk; I know exactly what it is that I want.” Slowly caressing down my cheek he adds, “You, Ofiara, are the only one that I want.”

  “Vincent, I have been waiting to hear just that.”

  Slipping my hands into his boxers I make my way to his dick. Pulling it out of the elastic, I cannot wait to get a taste and quickly wrap my lips around him. As I start to slowly suck and lick I feel his hands tighten in my hair. As he uses his hands to direct my mouth, I find myself getting wetter as he starts to fuck my face. Using one of my hands to tend to his dick I slip the other into my panties and start to finger fuck myself.

  After I have started to shudder with my own release, Vincent groans out loudly, cumming down my throat. “Take my boxers off and then your clothing. Get up here on the bed and lay on your back and spread those legs wide, I need to taste you.”

  Slipping his boxers down his legs as he told me, I then take my clothing off and lay down on the bed as he has asked. The nerves that I feel are not what a woman who has had sex before should feel, but the way he makes me feel when he looks at me is something that has me full of emotion and nervousness.