2018 Piper Davenport
Copyright © 2018 Trixie Publishing, Inc.
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States
Stealing the Biker’s Heart is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover Art
Jackson Jackson
CONTENTS
Copyright
Praise
Acknowledgements
Back Blurb
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
Dalton & Andi’s Story
Badger & Quin’s Story
Minus
About Piper
All it took was one page and I was immediately hooked on Piper Davenport’s writing. Her books contain 100% Alpha and the perfect amount of angst to keep me reading until the wee hours of the morning. I absolutely love each and every one of her fabulous stories. ~ Anna Brooks – Contemporary Romance Author
Get ready to fall head over heels! I fell in love with every single page and spent the last few wishing the book would never end! ~ Harper Sloan, NY Times & USA Today Bestselling Author
Piper Davenport just reached deep into my heart and gave me every warm and fuzzy possible. ~ Geri Glenn, Author of the Kings of Korruption MC Series
This is one series I will most definitely be reading!! Great job Ms. Davenport!! I am in love!! ~ Tabitha, Amazeballs Book Addicts
Kelly:
Thanks again. Your insight is always so spot on!
Harley:
Thanks for being the bestest friend a girl could have!
Jasmine Buckley’s busy life has no room for anything that doesn’t involve color palettes, fragrance samples, or building her burgeoning cosmetics empire. And she’s certainly too damn busy for a man. Too bad for her, she’s about to meet a man who could either be the makeover her love life needs, or the ultimate test of her new waterproof mascara formula.
Valen "Alamo" Slater is the unapologetic Sergeant at Arms for the Dogs of Fire MC in Savannah. Alamo is used to getting what he wants, and right now what he wants is Jasmine Buckley. The beautiful and fiery redhead is everything he’s ever wanted in a woman. The problem is, she has rules... strict ones. Lucky for him, there’s never been a rule he couldn’t bend... or break.
When Alamo discovers his sister severely beaten, his pursuit of justice plunges him into the heart of an ever-present and growing darkness in Savannah. With everyone and everything he loves in danger, Alamo must face the demons of his past in order to protect his future.
For Sybil
Woman, you’re one of a kind and I ADORE YOU!
Jasmine
“You are a confident, beautiful woman, Jasmine Elizabeth Buckley,” I said to myself as I stood in front of my bathroom mirror. “You do not let a man get under your skin.”
This was all true.
Until...
I shook off my thoughts with a frustrated growl. Valen “Alamo” Slater was apparently my kryptonite.
Alamo was the Sergeant at Arms for the Dogs of Fire Motorcycle Club, Savannah Chapter, and I’d met him when my best friend fell for his “brother,” Dash. Willow and Dash were now shacking up, which had surprised the hell out of me and Parker (the third bestie in our triangle), because Willow was the best “good girl” on the planet. Sweet, funny, and virginal to the nth degree. Now, however, she was Dash’s and he wasn’t letting her go.
God, I wanted that. No, that wasn’t entirely true. I wanted that with Alamo, but he wanted Parker. They always want Parker. Which was understandable. I loved Parker too. She was perfect. Dark hair, model body, giant green eyes. Everything I wasn’t.
That didn’t mean I thought I was less than. We were just different. I was tall, about five-foot-eight, I had long, red hair, and I was a big girl...as my mother said, in body and personality. I owned that. Reluctantly. I’d done the fad diets, worked out like a mad woman, and taken pills that offered rapid weight loss, but none of it stuck. I was way more Ashley Graham (according to Sparky’s woman Poppy) than Kate Moss, and that suited me just fine.
Don’t get me wrong, I did have days where I wished I was more of the “ideal” (like when Alamo was chatting up Parker...I wanted to be her. I wanted to be what he wanted), but then I’d remember it was impossible, shake those pesky little desires off, and be back to my normal, confident self.
Which led me to today and why I was staring into my mirror, willing myself to believe I had this shit covered. I’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed, after having sexy as hell dreams of Alamo going down on me, and I was back to feeling insecure. Probably because we’d just been at another get-together at the club and I’d spent the entire time watching Alamo...and Parker. God, he’d talked to her for, like, forever.
Damn it!
Forcing my insecurities aside, I gave myself another pep talk. I had a salon to run and a cosmetics empire to build. No time to moon over some sexy as fuck biker.
After giving my perfect, precious (and sometimes psycho) cat, Scruffy, a quick cuddle, I grabbed my purse and headed to my car.
I only had a few appointments today (Parker was my first), and my schedule was purposely light, so that I could leave early to join Parker and Willow for dinner and a movie. I loved owning my own business. I’d worked hard to get here, having chosen a route unlike my brother and sister who were both doctors.
I had a very successful salon and had just started looking at properties across town to open a second. I was also seriously close to finalizing the perfect formula for a new skincare line that could put me on the map. I loved my life and was proud of what I’d accomplished.
Walking into the salon, I disarmed the alarm and turned on all the lights before locking my purse up and unlocking the front door. I headed to the reception area and powered up the computer just as the bell rang, indicating a customer.
Which was weird, considering Parker wasn’t scheduled for another half-hour.
I glanced up and stalled. Okay, my lungs stalled, but my girl bits reacted with a violence I’d never experienced before. All six-foot-one of biker deliciousness stood before me in all his glory and my lungs constricted.
Lordy, I needed relief.
Immediately.
“Hi,” I managed to squeak out.
“Hey, Firefly,” Alamo said with his southern Texas drawl that caused my womb to contract as I yearned for his baby to grow in my belly.
God.
Yum.
Firefly.
I didn’t know why he called me that, but I loved it. So did my v
agina. I bit my lip. “What... um... what can I do for you?”
“Was wonderin’ if you had time for a haircut.”
I absolutely had time for a haircut, but I was a little confused as to why he’d driven into downtown Savannah for a forty-two-dollar haircut... not that I would charge him that much money, but he could head to a local chain for less than twenty bucks.
“Ah, sure. I can do that,” I said, and stepped from behind the desk.
He nodded. “’Preciate it.”
I led him to my chair and he settled his big body into it. “Do you want the works?”
He grinned at me in the mirror. “I always want the works, baby.”
I shook my head, trying to bite back a smile. “I’ve heard that about you.”
He laughed, and I led him over to one of the sinks. Guiding his head back, I started the water and settled over his hair. “Temperature okay?”
“Yeah, babe, it’s good.”
I soaked his head, pumped out a quarter size of my favorite shampoo, and massaged it into his scalp. Good lord, his hair was soft and thick, and long enough to hold onto while he was going down on me. Okay, maybe that was wishful thinking, but it was all true.
His black, long-sleeved Henley was stretched over his massive chest and I itched to trace the curves of his pecs (and the rest of his muscles) with my fingers. If the size of his arms were any indication as to just how cut he’d be, I would have a lot of terrain to cover.
I spent a little more time at the sink than I normally did with clients, relishing the feeling of his hair in my hands. His eyes were closed, and he had a slight smile, which made him even more gorgeous (if that was possible), and it took every ounce of my self-control not to cover his mouth with mine.
Shaking off my erotic fantasies, I led him back to my chair and covered him with a cape. “How short?”
“Just a trim,” he said.
I found myself relaxing. “Good. Perfection like this should never be destroyed.”
He grinned at me in the mirror and his eyes got soft. I liked it when his eyes got soft... he looked at me like I was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. “You comin’ on Saturday?”
“What’s Saturday?” I asked.
“Drinks and pool at Barney’s.”
“I actually have plans, but that sounds like fun. Give me more notice next time and I’ll try and make it.” I didn’t have plans, technically, but Barney’s wasn’t really my jam, so rather than insulting one of his favorite hang-outs (along with the entire club), I bent the truth a little. “Is Parker going?”
“How would I know if Parker’s goin’?”
I shrugged, forcing a smile. “Figured you asked her already, is all.”
Parker walked in a few seconds later and grinned. “Well, looky here...two of my favorite people.”
She kissed Alamo’s cheek, then hugged me, and leaned against my station desk. “Did you make coffee?” she asked.
“I did. I have to get a different comb, so I’ll grab you a cup,” I offered. “Do you want one, Alamo?”
“Sure, babe, that’d be great.”
I headed to the back, grabbed everything I needed, then returned to find Parker and Alamo laughing about something.
“You’re high,” Parker said, and Alamo laughed.
My girly bits contracted, and I almost dropped the coffees. Lordy, his laugh did dirty things to me.
“You don’t think so?” Alamo asked.
“No way in hell.”
I raised an eyebrow, handing Alamo a cup, then Parker.
“Thanks,” she said. “Alamo thinks the Cowboys are going to make it to the Super Bowl.”
“You never know,” I said. “Miracles do happen.”
Alamo grinned as he studied me in the mirror for a second, but I dropped my head and focused back on his hair.
“Well, you two are apparently smoking from the same crack pipe,” Parker said, and sipped her coffee.
After a few more snips, I ran my fingers through his hair to check length. I met his eyes in the mirror again and smiled. “How does that look?”
“Looks great, babe.” I grabbed a hand-held mirror and showed him the back. He nodded and said, “You do good work, Firefly.”
“Thanks.” I moved to his beard, but he stayed my hand.
“No one touches the beard, babe.”
I smiled despite being disappointed. His beard was long, but he obviously took good care of it, because it wasn’t bushy, and it was yet another item on his body I wanted to touch. “Well, you’re no fun.”
He chuckled as I removed the cape and shook it out, while he slid out of the chair.
He pulled a fifty out of his wallet, but I pushed his hand away. “On the house, Mo.”
“Don’t work that way,” he said.
“I’m not taking your money, buddy,” I insisted.
He raised an eyebrow, dropping the cash on the reception desk. “Keep the change, baby.”
He walked out, and I shook my head. “Stubborn, gorgeous...”
Parker laughed. “You okay?”
“I’m great.” I forced a smile. “I just have to sweep up and then I’ll be ready.”
“Want me to grab you a cup of coffee?” she asked. “I’m getting another.”
“That would be great, thanks.”
Parker headed to the break room and I finished sweeping up Alamo’s hair. As I pushed it into the pan, I contemplated saving some. Maybe I could put a little in a locket and wear it around my neck. Better yet, I could research a love incantation and use his hair in a spell to make him fall for me. I rolled my eyes as I dumped everything into the garbage can. I’d probably need something weird like eye of newt, or frog’s teeth or something to make it all work, and I didn’t think I was ready to go to those lengths to make Alamo love me.
Parker returned with a cup for both of us and plopped herself into my chair. “Did you hear they found another body?” she asked.
“No.” I shivered. “That’s four in the last month.”
The top story of late was the discovery of several women’s remains in the area. The media was calling the serial killer the “Gentleman Strangler,” because he’d sexually assault the victim, strangle her, then dress her in fifties clothing, detailed down to the stockings and white gloves. Every woman was petite, brunette, and had olive skin. It was super creepy, and our little community was on high alert.
Parker nodded. “They found her in the park.”
The park she was referring to was Forsythe Park in the most historic part of town.
“Seriously?” I frowned. “That’s close.”
“I know. You have a client down there, right?”
“Yep.”
“Please be careful, Jazz,” Parker begged. “Whoever this guy is, he’s scary and seems like he’s reckless. If you’re in that area, stay aware of your surroundings. Especially if it’s dark.”
“I’m so not his type. He’s partial to brunettes,” I pointed out. “I also don’t go down there when it’s dark. And back atya, okay? You like to run the park.”
“I’m not running there now,” she insisted. “Too creepy.”
“You could take one of the guys with you.”
Parker raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever seen a biker run for fun?”
I thought about that for a second, then laughed. “Maybe you’re right.” I sipped my coffee. “Are you going on Saturday?”
“What’s on Saturday?”
“Pool and beer at Barney’s.”
“Um, no.” She wrinkled her nose. “Are you?”
I chuckled. “No. Alamo asked if I was going... I figured he’d have asked you.”
“Why would he ask me?”
“Because he wants you.”
Parker raised an eyebrow. “Come again?”
“He’s always all over you at the get-togethers,” I said. “Plus, you guys were all heads-together and giggling like lovers just a few minutes ago.”
Parker did a spit-t
ake... like a bona-fide spit take. “What?”
“What, what?” I asked, handing her some tissues.
She set her cup on the counter and laughed. “Ohmigod, you beautiful, beautiful woman. You are so, so pretty.”
I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, you’re very pretty... not so smart, but super pretty.”
I rolled my eyes. “He is all over you... every time we’re at the compound.”
“Maybe so... but he’s asking about you.”
“What?” I squeaked.
“That man might be considered brooding, but he’s good at grilling for information, and the only topic he’s ever interested in is you.”
“Shut up,” I rasped.
She swiveled her chair to face me. “You like him.”
“My vagina does, yes... jury’s still out on if it’s simple lust or something else.”
Parker giggled. “Well, you’re both in the same place.”
“His vagina’s lusting after me?”
“Yes, yes, it is.”
“Weirdo.”
“That man is primed and ready for some Jazz... and it sounds like you’re primed for some jizz—”
“Parker!” I admonished.
She shrugged. “Whatever. He’s raring to go, and you won’t even have to work for it.”
I couldn’t stop a snort as I shook my head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe so, but I’m not wrong.”
“If he’s really been asking about me, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you knew,” Parker said.
“How would I know if he’s always talking to you?”
“I wondered why you always changed the subject when his name came up.” Parker sighed. “I thought I was reading you wrong and you were totally not into him.”
I grimaced. “You weren’t reading me wrong.”
“Were you super pissed at me?”
“No! Why?”
“Because I can’t say I wouldn’t be jealous as hell, or want to scratch your eyes out if the situation was reversed.”
I laughed. “Well, I love you enough to not let a boy get in the middle of our friendship... even a boy as delicious as Alamo.”
She grinned. “Outside of the fact you’re obviously a better woman than me, Alamo’s totally not my type. I like men with longer hair.”
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