Cowboy Bikers MC #3 - Esther E. Schmidt Page 0,1

“You’re hoping he follows her here, aren’t you? Making me a target to take him out.”

Nick only shrugs. “All of your training still up to date? Still carrying?”

I shoot him a glare and grab my leather cut to hold it slightly away from my body to show the gun I’m carrying.

“My president isn’t going to be happy about this. You could have warned me this wasn’t just a job to keep a woman in hiding.”

“The President thanks your president. Since she also happens to be the niece of the president,” Nick easily supplies.

A groan rips from my body. “No wonder you guys dumped the girl in bumbfuck Texas at a ranch filled with bikers. Who the hell would look for the high-class superstar in this hellhole?”

Nick points at me and snickers, “Bingo.”

I’ve heard of her, but that’s it. I have no clue how she looks, what songs she sings, or how her voice sounds. All I know is the fact that the niece of the President of the United States is a country singer with the voice of a rugged angel. Well, that’s how they describe her.

“Go a little easy on her, okay?”

His request makes me snicker. “You’re asking the wrong man if you think I’ll pamper the little princess. You should have kept her surrounded by men in suits, not shove her in the care of—”

“Cowboy bikers who thrive on loyalty and respect? You guys might be a ragged, outlaw bunch of crazy, but I’d put my life in your hands any day, Decker. Any damn day.” Nick’s words render me speechless.

There’s nothing to add to it and he’s right about the loyalty and respect part all my brothers in this MC have. And the way we run this ranch together like a well-oiled machine also indicates our flawless ability to run things as a solid brotherhood.

Nick might call us outlaws and in some ways we are, but Weston—the president of this MC—pulled us out of shady and dangerous business and put the main focus on livestock. Something that’s worked quite well for us. I might have a background in law enforcement and once was standing in Nick’s shoes, but I quit the FBI for a solid reason. And I never looked back.

“Okay, enough ass-kissing. Hand over the woman, I have more things to do than standing around here all day. Besides, you need to get back to work too. Heading home or are a few of you staying in town?”

Nick nods. “Yes, three of us are, including myself. We’re staying at the hotel to oversee things. You have my number and I have yours. I will keep you updated.”

“Sounds good,” I tell him and with that he heads for the SUV and opens the door.

A brown pinched cowboy hat appears. Thick, long, black hair with pink highlights is hanging loose and spilling over a woman’s lush, magnificent tits. Tits held together by a combination of lace and leather. She’s managed to squeeze her sexy curves into tight blue jeans and is wearing black cowboy boots with rhinestones.

Rhinestones. She’s going to lose that shine real quick if she keeps those shiny boots on.

I meant what I told Nick; there will be no pampering. If she’s here with me she needs to work with me and will get dirty. It’s inevitable, even standing around doing nothing will make the dust land on those shiny boots.

She swings a large duffle bag over her shoulder and her steps falter when she’s standing in front of Hammer. With her head still bowed I can’t see her facial expression but the way she shuffles in a wide berth around my dog shows she’s indeed not used to dogs.

And then it happens. Her head tips back, our eyes meet, and I fucking fall. I’m rooted to the ground; my body isn’t moving and yet I’m falling so damn hard it literally knocks the wind right out of me. This woman is a natural beauty with a sweet and delicate angle. All wrapped in a body with curvy perfection, one a man like me needs for the rough kind of fucking I crave.

Something hard is shoved against me and Nick’s voice rips me from staring at the woman I must own in every way possible. “You can carry this one. Make the lady feel at home and keep her breathing.”

I for sure as fuck will keep her breathing, damn well panting. For me; only me.

“Get the hell out of here, Nicky boy. I got this,” I