Sara's Gun(7)

By: GM Scherbert


Knowing that Doc will not let anything happen to her, I walk out to my bike and head home needing to shower and get that asshole’s smell off of me. I still can’t believe that I let him take me and in such a seedy way or that I only find myself wanting more.

Running the shower once I am safely home, I am quick to get under the hot water and get him off of me. When my hands start roaming over my body, cleaning it with the lavender scent that has been my favorite since junior high school, I can’t stop myself from thinking of him.

Thinking that his hands are the ones roaming over my body.

Thinking that he is the one cleaning and caring for me.

Thinking that he would be man enough to claim me in all the ways that I desire.

I come at my own hand right before reality hits me.

I want Gun like I have never wanted another. There is no way I will fall for a man so much like my father, though. No chance in fucking hell I will put up with being nothing more than a dirty fuck for a man, no matter how much I find myself wanting him.

The Devil’s Iron Clubhouse is definitely off limits to me for a while, until I can get these thoughts of him out of my head.





Chapter 6


~Gun~

Seeing her walk out of the bathroom disheveled has me grinning from ear to ear. No one in this Clubhouse will question if she has been with someone tonight. Watching her sway that ass up towards the bar has my cock getting hard again. FUCK, what is it about this woman? I have not been with any of these club girls more than a few times, but with her I can see more. That definitely means that I need to not see her again. I have no want to settle down and live a life like that, ever, especially after I have only been back from overseas for such a short time.

Princess approaches the bar looking around for who I am guessing is the friend that she came in with. Knowing that Doc took her to the back room I weigh my options out, not knowing if talking to her is a great choice. I decide to go tell her about the red head, but when I look around again, she is gone. Where the fuck did she go? Moving quickly to the door I push it open only to see her pulling out of the lot, on a fucking sportster.

I need to know who she is. Having no luck finding Preach to ask him, I decide instead to call it a night and head towards my room. Instead of sleeping I find myself thinking of her. How the fuck am I thinking of that woman again? I thought fucking her would’ve been enough, but here I am taking matters into my own hands.

Waking in the morning, Prez sends me out of town for ten days to get some shit in order with a startup chapter in Minnesota. Thinking of her becomes less common and by the time I have returned she has all but slipped from my mind.

As the weeks pass I look for the Princess less and less and my usual behavior returns. I never again forget to wear protection when I take the club girls back to my room. I still think about that fuck from time to time and have even found myself picturing her when I cum.

I have yet to see that red head she came with that night either, or I would ask her. In fact, all the brothers have noted the change in Doc since that night. He has been gone from the Clubhouse frequently and has little to nothing to say about it. It all comes together the night that he asks me to come with him.

“Gun, come with me tonight? I need your skills.”

“Oh, my skills in the bedroom or what Doc?” I say laughingly.

“No, you fucking prick, and if you are anything but respectful to Ember, we will have more than words,” shoving me, he finishes, “you get me?”

“Jesus Doc, yeah I got it. Who the fuck is this bitch that’s got you all wrapped?” That’s all I get out before the punch lands on my chest, causing me to lose my breath.

Doubling over, I catch my breath hearing him say, “Gun, I am not fucking kidding- if you are disrespectful to her in any way I will be going to the brothers only after I have you buried. She is not like the club girls that you always find yourself fucking. I want my ink on her and will be taking it to the brothers in the next two weeks. I want you to talk to her before you draw something up that will match the ink that you gave me last week.”

“The flames on your chest? You want me to make a matching tattoo to that?” I say looking up to him, still bent over trying to catch my breath.