Doozer (Burning Saints MC Book 5)

by Jack Davenport

  Angry and exhausted I made it to my room, slumped onto my bed in a heap, pulled out my phone, and called Minus.

  “How’d it go?” he asked, picking up immediately.

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “Were you able to find out anything more?”

  “I’m not sure how much he knows,” I said. “It appears I may know a lot more than he did. He actually seemed surprised by some of the shit I told him.”

  “You could have blind spots, though. Him being your old man and all.”

  “Trust me. I’m the last person who’s gonna come to my father’s defense. He knows enough to be guilty in my eyes, but I think the Beast and Judge Snodgrass played him.”

  “Where does that leave us?”

  “I told my father he had forty-eight hours to kill the deal with the judge. Without Pop’s cooperation and the use of his offshore account, the deal can’t proceed.”

  “Do you think he’ll listen to you?”

  “I told him he either parts ways with judge Snodgrass or with his freedom. The choice is his.”

  “Could you really turn him in to the cops?”

  “My father’s too proud to face a scandal. He’ll do what’s right and kill the deal.”

  “The Beast will figure out another way to come at us, but at least this buys us some time. Good job, Doozer. I’ll see you when you get back from your trip.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Trouble

  I WANTED TO take it back. All of it. I wanted to retract my letter and start again, hit the backspace on the computer of my life, but I couldn’t. It was gone, and now that I’d had a full night’s sleep, I had a feeling Doozer was going to lose his shit, assume I’d dumped him, and fuck some club whore to feel better. If I could just get access to a phone, maybe I could explain.

  But that was a no-go. Taxi had taken our phones when we’d gotten here, and the only calls we could make were pre-approved and monitored. A couple of the recruits had attempted to sneak in burners, but Taxi seemed to know all the tricks and they were confiscated quickly, so a call with Doozer wasn’t in the cards.

  It had been a week since I’d sent my rambling thoughts to Doozer and I’d heard nothing back. This didn’t bode well for me, considering he was the communicator in our relationship.

  “Trouble!” Taxi bellowed from outside my dorm room.

  I pulled open the door with a huff. “What? You said we had the weekend off.”

  “You got a visitor.”

  “Who?”

  “Follow me,” he growled.

  What fresh hell do you have in store for me now? I wondered as I slid on my shoes and stepped out of my room.

  He scowled as we walked down the hall. “Let me be crystal clear. You still have the next forty-eight hours to yourself, but if you break curfew, I’m gonna fuckin’ rain down so much pain on you, you’ll wish you were dead.”

  “Wow,” I breathed out as he stopped at the conference room door and pushed it open. “Who could possibly—”

  “Hey, Steph.”

  I gasped as Doozer studied me from across the room. I heard the door close behind me and I rocked from foot-to-foot not sure what he was doing here.

  “You gonna say hi?” he asked.

  “Are you here to dump me?” I blurted.

  He frowned. “I wasn’t the one who wrote a Dear John letter. I’m here so you can tell me in person.”

  “I didn’t write you a Dear John letter.”

  “What else would you call it?”

  I bit my lip. “I was processing my thoughts. On paper. But I couldn’t dump you if my life depended on it. Obviously.”

  He cocked his head. “Obviously?”

  “Marco, I love you. I can’t think straight because of it. Ergo, obviously.”

  He crossed his arms. “Your letter made it sound like you wanted to end things in order to think straight.”

  “I know,” I breathed out. “I’d had no sleep and I was really sad. But ending things is not what I want on any level.” I blinked in an effort not to cry. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say, Doozer. You know I suck at this kind of shit.”

  His mouth twitched. “I do know that.”

  “And…?”

  “Get your ass over here and kiss your man,” he demanded, and I wrinkled my nose.

  “Or… you can get your ass over here and kiss your woman.”

  He didn’t hesitate, taking three long strides and wrapping his arms around me, lifting me off my feet. He kissed me so hard, I’m surprised we managed to stop ourselves from stripping down and fucking on the giant table.

  “Fuck, baby, I missed you,” he said after he broke the kiss.

  “I missed you more.”

  “Doubtful.”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked once he set me on my feet. “Does Minus know?”

  “That I’m here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He sent me.”

  I gripped his cut. “Shut the fuck up. Why the hell would Minus send you?”

  He patted my butt. “Because I’ve been moping like a puppy who’s just gotten swatted with a newspaper. He was over it.”

  I slid my hands up his chest. “I love you, honey. I’m sorry that letter was such a shitshow.”

  “Love you too. I’m very fuckin’ glad the letter was a shitshow, rather than a fuck off.”

  “How long are you staying?”

  “A few days. At least long enough to fuck you ten or twenty times.”

  I rolled my eyes. “One track mind.”

  “Look, if you want to talk and forgo my mouth on your pussy, I’m totally fine with that.”

  I shivered. “You have no idea how badly I want your mouth on my pussy.”

  “Taxi said the team’s on furlough this weekend, is that right?”

  “Yup,” I confirmed.

  “I’ve got a motel room close by. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s clean and it’s private.”

  I grinned. “Then why are we standing here?”

  “Good question, baby.”

  “I’ll grab a couple of things from my room and meet you back here.”

  “Pack light, we’ll be on a bike,” he said.

  “A bike? How did you manage that?”

  “I made some calls before I got here and found out there’s a Harley dealership that rents bikes near the airport. I figured you’d be jonesin’ to get in the saddle by now. I thought we could go for a ride through the Virginia countryside tomorrow.”

  I gave Doozer the biggest kiss I could muster. “You are the best. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

  “I’m timing you.”

  I let out a quiet squeak and rushed out of the room.

  * * *

  Doozer

  Moments after Trouble left, Taxi entered the room, and he was rip shit pissed.

  “I’m only gonna warn you once,” he growled. “Take one step over the line while you’re here and I’ll send the both of you packing back to Portland.”

  “Look, I’m not here to fuck anyone’s shit up, okay?”

  “Why the hell are you here, Doozer?”

  “I’m here for Trouble,” I replied, calmly.

  “Trouble is here to train.”

  “I understand that.”

  “If you did, you wouldn’t be here.”

  “Look, Minus told me to—”

  “I don’t give a fuck what Minus said. This is my camp, and Trouble is my trainee, and I can’t have her distracted.”

  “Trouble’s also a member of the Burning Saints.”

  “Which will mean absolute dick when she’s out in the field.”

  I laughed. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “You may have recognized Trouble’s talent with a rifle, but you have no idea what makes her tick.”

  “I suppose you have her all figured out,” Taxi replied.

  “I know she’ll be thinking of her club
when she’s out running around with you. The only reason she’s here is to protect the Saints.”

  “You’re the one who doesn’t understand. Trouble’s here for her own reasons. She’d have come with or without Saints’ blessing. She’s more than just a biker, Doozer.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” I snapped.

  “Then leave her alone so I can help reach her full potential,” Taxi shouted.

  “Is that what this is?” Heat crept up the back of my neck. “You want to be alone with Trouble?”

  Taxi’s face dropped. “After all we’ve been through, I thought you’d have shown me a little more respect than that, Doozer.”

  “And I would have thought you’d respect our club’s patch more. You’d be wise to remember that Trouble is only here because her president granted permission.”

  “Is that why Minus sent you? To remind me that he’s the boss?” Taxi huffed.

  “Did you come in here to remind me that you’re the boss?”

  “Something like that,” Taxi replied, taking a step closer.

  “If you’re gonna get this close to me, you’d better be about to ask me to dance,” I said through a steely gaze.

  “This is your final warning, Doozer. Don’t get in the way of Trouble’s training, or you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to dance with me.”

  Trouble walked back in to find Taxi and me standing toe to toe.

  “Lucky for you, my dance card is full right now,” I growled only loud enough for him to hear, before turning away.

  “Hey, Taxi,” Trouble said. “Everything okay?”

  “Great,” he said. “Doozer and I were just catching up.”

  “Yup,” I said, before turning to Trouble. “You ready?”

  She nodded and said goodbye to Taxi, before leading us out the door.

  * * *

  Trouble

  Doozer was quieter than normal as we made our way to his room. I wanted more than anything to know what he was thinking but was terrified to ask. And as curious as I may have been to crack into his skull, for the time being I had to admit I was more interested in what was in his pants. It’s hard for me to explain, but sex with Doozer was unlike anything I’d experienced before. He didn’t just take to me to heights of physical pleasure I’d never been before, but also to what I can only describe as a spiritual place. When we were having sex, nothing else in the world mattered. Not my past, or even my present. There was only the two of us.

  As soon as we entered his room, I pushed Doozer down onto the bed and began quickly undressing him. My mouth hungrily kissing and licking every bit of his body that I exposed.

  Once he was naked, I threw off my own clothes as quickly as I could, then jumped back on the bed. Straddling his hips, I guided him inside of me, closing my eyes as his girth filled me. I leaned down to kiss him and bit back tears at the thought of him leaving and not seeing those eyes every day. “I love you, Marco Mancini.”

  He kissed my neck, then ran his tongue over my pulse, burying himself deeper inside of me. “I love you too, Stephanie Palmer. That will never change.”

  “You don’t have to make me promises, honey.”

  “And I don’t say shit I don’t mean,” he countered, sliding a hand between us and fingering my clit.

  Our physical connection in the past had always been frantic, lustful, passionate. And it wasn’t as though it wasn’t that now, it just happened to be slow and gentle as well. Doozer made love to me and we connected on a level much, much deeper than we ever had before. It was beautiful and terrifying all at the same time.

  He rolled me onto my back and rocked into me slowly, kissing me as a climax built. “I can’t wait,” I rasped.

  “I’m close, baby.” He moved faster then. Slamming into me over and over until I could no longer hold back my orgasm, screaming his name as my walls contracted around him.

  He wasn’t far behind me, his cock pulsing as he came, then rolling us onto our sides facing each other.

  “That was otherworldly,” I whispered.

  “Fuck, yeah it was.” He chuckled, kissing me gently, then pulling out of me and stepping into the motel’s tiny bathroom. He returned with a warm washcloth and cleaned me up, kissing me gently before pulling me back into his arms.

  “Training can’t be over soon enough,” I complained.

  “Agreed.”

  “What were you and Taxi talking about earlier?”

  “Nothing important,” Doozer said, unconvincingly.

  “Really?” I challenged. “Because, it looked like some macho, he-man bullshit was going down between the two of you when I walked in.”

  “It’s nothing,” he said.

  “Which means it was something.”

  Doozer sat up and faced me. “You didn’t grow up with siblings, so you might not relate to this, but every Thanksgiving, the wishbone was a big deal in our house.”

  “The wishbone?” I chuckled, sitting up to face him, surprised by Doozer’s left turn.

  “Yeah, you know, the wishbone from the turkey.”

  “I know what a wishbone is, but what does this have to do with your conversation with Taxi?”

  “When we were kids, my sisters and I would fight every year about which two of us got to pull the wishbone apart. It was supposed to be fun, but to us it was blood sport. A primitive ritual to find out which one of us would be bestowed with good luck for the year. Every year, no matter how good the meal was, or how well we’d be getting along all day, the moment that wishbone came out, it was war.”

  “I’m still lost,” I said.

  “I don’t want you to be the wishbone in between me and Taxi,” Doozer said, softly.

  “Is that what was going on earlier? A game of tug of war with me as the prize?”

  He sighed. “Yes and no.”

  “Okay, you need to start speaking ’Merican, buddy, because I’m about to lose my mind.”

  “I’m having a hard time letting go,” he admitted. “I don’t like that I’m being replaced—”

  “You’re not being replaced.”

  “Let me get this out. I need to verbally process.”

  “Sorry,” I grumbled.

  “I’m having a hard time letting go. Specifically, my need for you to need me… more than Taxi. I want to be the one to have your back. The one you need above all else, and the one who will protect you in any situation. But that’s unrealistic. You have to trust your team, or it won’t work, and I have to let you go enough not to interfere.” He met my eyes. “Bottom line, I’m scared to death I’m gonna lose you. You’re growing and learning at a breakneck pace, and I’m pretty sure you’re gonna figure out just how much of a fuckin’ loser I am.”

  “Hey, that’s my man you’re talking about,” I growled.

  He smiled slightly. “It’s how I feel.”

  I squared my shoulders and nodded. “Anything else?”

  “I think that pretty much covers it.”

  “Okay.” I took his hand and ran my finger over his palm. “I love you. Not the kind of love that’s gonna end tomorrow. The kind that lasts forever and since I know you’re well aware I don’t need a knight to slay my dragons for me, you protecting me doesn’t factor into this. At least, within the little picture. In the bigger picture, obviously, I will expect you to always have my back and always protect me in all things because you’re my man, and you’re all fucking man which is one of the reasons I love you. And yes, I’m growing and learning, but honey, so are you. This conversation is evidence of that. You’re saying out loud that you recognize you need to let me go and that’s kind of remarkable, don’t you think?”

  “Well, I’m pretty fuckin’ awesome, so…”

  “You are.” I laughed. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to finish my training, then regardless of if Taxi decides he wants to send me to Timbuktu, you’re part of that package. He knows that. I’ve been clear about that, so it’s a non-issue. The only reason it would be an issue is if you didn’t
want to come with me. And then, I’ll be the one needing to figure out how to let you go.” I let out a snort. “Who am I kidding? I’m never letting you go, so suck it up, buttercup, we’re in this for the long haul.”

  “I’m not goin’ anywhere, either.”

  “Good. Tell you what,” I said. “The team is getting together for drinks tomorrow night at the Windmill. Why don’t you come with me and you can meet everyone? Maybe if you meet the people who are gonna have my back, you’ll feel a little better.”

  “Is Taxi gonna be there?”

  “He said he might stop by briefly,” I replied.

  “How briefly?”

  I smacked Doozer’s chest. “He saved your life, remember?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Why does everyone keep reminding me of that?”

  “Because I, for one, am extremely grateful that he did.”

  He leaned forward and kissed me, and I cupped his face. “Feel like getting me dirty in the shower before getting me clean?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  I grinned. “Race ya.”

  After our shower, I headed back to the barracks and slept better than I had in days.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Doozer

  WE PULLED UP to the Windmill Bar and Grill just before ten o’ clock and the place was packed. The spot looked like any average beer and wings joint you’d see in any college town, which was essentially what Quantico was. Except, instead of being populated by fresh-faced engineering and medical students, it was filled with fine young men and women learning new and better ways to kill people with their bare hands. Quantico itself is the size of a postage stamp, but houses high level training facilities for the Marines, the Navy, the DEA, and of course the FBI.

  We got off the rental bike and Trouble removed her helmet, her pixie-rocker hair, sticking out in every direction. However, with a shake of her head, and a quick comb through with her fingers her hair was once again picture perfect. It was like a magic trick.

  “That why you keep your hair short?” I asked. “To avoid ‘helmet head’?”

  “No,” Trouble replied. “For the longest time, my favorite movie to check out from the base library was G.I. Jane.”