My Father's Rival: A Silver Saints MC Novella

by Fiona Davenport

  The warmth of his breath against my hands made me shiver. Almost of their own volition, my legs fell open. I slowly lifted my hands, and my reward was a brush of his lips against the inside of my thighs. First one, then the other—leaving me quivering in anticipation. My focus was wholly on the feel of his warm lips against my skin, and the rough slide of his beard following after the wet trail he made up my legs. His hands were wrapped around the underside of my thighs, and his hold tightened when he leaned forward to trace up my center with his tongue.

  I’d never felt anything like it. My entire body was stretched taut, warmth building in my lower belly as his mouth worked me. He built it, higher and higher. Long licks. Swirls around my clit. Nibbles along the lips of my sex. With his mouth open wide and tongue stroking, the pressure inside me reached a peak. I exploded, shouting his name. “Jared!”

  He didn’t pull back until I collapsed against the mattress, panting. “Haven’t had anyone use my real name in longer than I can remember, but fuck if I don’t want to hear you say it the same damn way over and over again as I make you come.”

  “I’m not going to argue. I really enjoyed that.” That infernal blush heated my face once more. I couldn’t believe the things that popped out of my mouth around him.

  “Could tell,” he grunted, lifting up to hover over my body. “You wanna do it again, all you have to do is ask. I’ll eat you out as often as you like.”

  “As often as I’d like, huh? But don’t you have an MC to run?”

  “Fuck!” he shouted, punching the mattress. His face closed down, and I wished I could take the words back. I’d meant them to be a joke, but they only served as a reminder to him of all the reasons why he shouldn’t touch me. As he pushed off the bed and stalked into the bathroom, a lone tear tracked down my cheek.

  Chapter Five

  Mac

  “What the fuck were you thinking, asshole?” I growled at myself in the bathroom mirror. I licked my lips and groaned at the taste of Bridget still lingering there.

  I needed to stay the hell away from her. The last thing we needed was to be at war with the Hounds of Hellfire. My club wasn’t exactly filled with boy scouts but Pierce’s guys played dirty. Taking her as leverage was dangerous enough—there would be no coming back from fucking her while she was here.

  The solution was to keep Bridget busy and out of my sight. I didn’t have any other choice but to hand her over to Cat to find her something to do. I knew I should also find her another place to sleep but it would only distract me even more, worrying about her safety and obsessing over whose bed she was lying in. I’d simply have to make use of the couch in my office. There were plenty of beds that would welcome me, but I hadn’t been interested in meaningless companionship for a long time and after getting a feel and taste of Bridget…she was the only one I craved.

  I took a fortifying breath and opened the bathroom door. Bridget was still sitting on the bed in her tiny tank top, but she’d put back on her shorts. She looked up at me with confusion and desire in her eyes, and it almost broke my resolve. She was fucking gorgeous, and so tempting.

  I shook my head to try and clear it as I stalked over to a worn, wooden dresser by the door. I grabbed a fresh pair of boxers, jeans, and a T-shirt. Then I snatched my cut from where it hung on the wall and tossed it onto the bed.

  “I’ll send someone with some fresh clothes for you,” I told her gruffly. “You need to wear that when you leave this room. No one will bother you as long as you wear my brand.” I made my way to the bathroom without waiting for her response, but paused in the doorway and looked at her. “What happened before”—I ran a frustrated hand through my hair—“that shit shouldn’t have happened. You may have been raised in this life, princess, but you aren’t cut out for it. I’m too fucking old to be making mistakes like getting involved with someone so young.”

  Her blue eyes deepened as hurt filled them, but they also held a stubborn glint that made me smile as I shut the bathroom door. After sending a quick text to Cat to rustle up some clothes for Bridget, I hopped in the shower and dressed for the day.

  Our MC had its finger in a lot of businesses, but one of our main sources of income was a shop that specialized in racing bikes. We had a new shipment coming in, and that meant a shit ton of stuff to do.

  When I exited the bathroom, Bridget was standing by the solitary window in the room, holding a bundle of clothes and shifting restlessly on her feet.

  “Get ready, then meet me in my office,” I ordered. I headed for the door and noticed my vest still on the unmade bed. “And don’t forget the cut.” Stepping into the hall, I blew out a heavy breath as I closed the door behind me. My room was filled with her delicious scent, and I practically ran away from it like a cowardly bitch.

  Scout was waiting for me in my office, and I scowled at the knowing grin on his face. “Cat said she delivered clothes to the little princess in your room this morning.”

  “And?” I growled.

  He shrugged. “Noticed your couch looks untouched. I’m guessing that can’t be said for our captive anymore.”

  “Keep your opinions to yourself and your mouth shut, brother.” I dropped onto the seat behind my desk. “There a reason you’re in my office? Or you just here to get your ass thrown out?” He toned down his grin to a slight smirk, but I still wanted to wipe it off his face with my fist.

  “Delivery is confirmed for this afternoon. Got the boys lined up for the run tomorrow too. You still planning on going?”

  It was the perfect excuse to get away from Bridget. By the time I got back, Pierce’s time would be up.

  “No.” My hand balled into a fist as I mentally put a fucking gun to my head. “I need to be here in case Pierce comes through early.” It was a pitiful attempt to excuse my answer, but Scout didn’t question it. I was the fucking president and didn’t need to explain myself.

  We went over the details for the run and were just finishing up when a soft knock on my door interrupted our conversation. “Yeah,” I snapped.

  Bridget opened the door and slowly walked inside. When she saw Scout, she straightened her spine and gave him a nod of greeting before walking to a chair in front of my desk and taking a seat. She’d donned my cut and something inside me calmed at the sight.

  “Princess,” he greeted her with a smirk.

  She stiffened further and shocked me when she practically growled, “My name is Bridget.”

  Scout grinned and plopped down onto the chair beside her. “How about I call you, Blue, because of those gorgeous blue eyes?”

  She cocked her head to the side and studied him for a moment, then gave him a small smile in return. “Blue it is.”

  I didn’t like the idea of him having a special nickname for her, but calling him out on it would only show my developing weakness for her.

  “Scout.”

  “Yeah, Prez?”

  “Get out.” My tone left no room for argument.

  He stood and meandered to the open door. Cat appeared, and he winked at her. “Kitty Cat,” he growled, and he smacked her ass before continuing down the hall. Her lips tipped up into a smile until she faced the room and noticed Bridget.

  “Mac. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m putting you in charge of Bridget,” I explained. “Show her around, make sure she knows the places that are off limits, and find her something to do while she’s here.”

  “You want me to babysit the pampered princess?” she asked in surprise and disgust. Bridget let out a cute little growl at the nickname and I suppressed a smile.

  “You questioning my orders, woman?” I stared hard at her, leaving her without a doubt that I was serious and expected her to do what she was told.

  She threw another glance at Bridget, revulsion clear in her eyes, then sighed and looked back at me. “No.” She stood and motioned for Bridget to follow her. “Let’s go, kid.”

  Bridget looked as though she wanted to say something to me, but changed her mind and
quietly trailed after Cat.

  I tried to get my mind back on work, though it frequently strayed to my blue-eyed beauty. Couldn’t help wondering what she was doing and how she was adjusting. Then I’d lecture myself for being a pansy ass and throw myself back into my responsibilities.

  When my stomach growled, I grabbed food from the kitchen and took it back to my office. Finally, my eyes grew tired and I glanced at the clock on my desk to see that it was after two in the morning. I trudged over to my couch and flopped down on it, determined to catch some shut eye and stay away from the woman currently occupying my bed. Instead, I tossed and turned until I finally gave up and went upstairs. I silently undressed and slipped into bed, pulling Bridget into my arms.

  I woke with the sunrise and left before she knew I’d been there. It would have to be enough—sleeping with her in my arms.

  Chapter Six

  Bridget

  Waking up the second morning after Mac took me wasn’t nearly as pleasurable as the first. Cat had kept me busy all day, and I’d been exhausted when she’d finally released me from being her slave-laborer after dinner clean-up. I’d tried to stay awake so I could talk to him, in the hope that I’d be able to convince him to let me spend my time with someone—anyone—other than Cat. Preferably him. But I must have passed out before he’d turned in for the night, and slept through him leaving since the bed was now empty. I would have thought I’d spent the entire night alone if it wasn’t for the indentation on the pillow next to me and the slight hint of his scent on the sheets.

  “I better see that man more today than I did yesterday,” I mumbled to myself. “Or else I’ll have to kick my own butt for cooperating in my own kidnapping.”

  My muscles ached when I crawled out of bed and headed into the bathroom to get ready for my day. Not that I needed to do a lot since I was just going to be a hot and sweaty mess soon because Cat clearly had it out for me. A fact that was proven to me yet again when I walked into the kitchen and she turned from the stove to glare at me.

  “Did the spoiled princess get enough sleep? Would she like a cup of coffee? Maybe a gourmet breakfast?”

  I didn’t bother saying anything. I’d learned that lesson yesterday. Cat couldn’t care less what I had to say or if she hurt my feelings. She’d made her mind up about me, and nothing was going to change it.

  “Now that you’re finally up, get over here and stir these eggs.”

  I did as she asked—or ordered, really, since it wasn’t a request—and took her place at the stove. There were at least two dozen eggs in the pan, and Cat hurried over to the toaster to pull out four slices of toast. She popped another four slices in, buttered the ones that were done, and set them on top of an already tall pile on a plate. It seemed like she was making enough to feed a small army.

  Scout strolled in and gave Cat a quick pat on her butt. “How’s breakfast coming along, Kitty Cat?”

  “Better now that the princess is finally up,” she grumbled.

  “Well then, I’m glad Blue’s around to lend a hand in the kitchen.”

  “Blue?” Cat echoed softly.

  “Yeah, she needed a nickname and Blue seemed like the obvious choice with those gorgeous eyes of hers,” Scout explained.

  If looks could kill, I’d have dropped dead on the spot after the venomous scowl Cat shot my way. She smiled up at Scout when he looked down at her, so he didn’t catch the look she gave me. While he snagged a piece of toast before heading out the door, she pulled a couple of baking sheets of bacon out of the oven.

  “You make your bacon in the oven?”

  My question earned me another glare and an eye-roll. “Yeah, ‘cause it’s less messy and easier to cook it in big batches that way than in a pan.” She gave me a considering look, and then her lips tilted up in a smug grin. “Although I guess that for the short time you’re around, I don’t have to worry about making a mess since I’ve got you to clean it up for me.”

  Ignoring her effort to push my buttons yet again, I asked a question that had been bugging me instead. “The old ladies in my dad’s club don’t take care of even half the stuff that you do. They hand most of it off to the girls who hang around for the guys. Couldn’t you do the same and have them help you more often?”

  “It isn’t your job to question the way we do things around here,” she spat at me. Then she slammed one of the empty baking sheets into the sink and stalked towards me. When she got close enough to reach me, she grabbed my upper arm and her nails dug into my skin. “The Silver Saints aren’t anything like the Hounds of Hellfire, and we never will be. Why in the hell would we want to be when one of those motherfuckers put one of our guys in a coma for standing up for a woman?”

  “I didn’t—” My sentence broke off when she shook me.

  “Of course you didn’t! How could you when sheltered princesses don’t know what goes on in the real world?” She swept her free hand in the air, waving around the kitchen. “Look around. Your daddy isn’t here to protect you. Nobody is. Not even Mac. You might be wearing his cut, but that’s only because he doesn’t want the guys to take things too far with you. You’re a commodity to him, nothing more. The lever he needed to pull to get your dad to come to the bargaining table. Nothing less, and sure as fuck nothing more. Not like it’ll be when he finds the woman he wants to be his old lady and has her wear it. Assuming she’ll even want the same one he put on your boney ass.”

  I’d held firm through her whole rant—right up until the point when she mentioned some other woman wearing Mac’s cut. My mind filled with thoughts of someone else where I wanted to be. In his bed. Making a life with him. I yanked my arm out of Cat’s hold. Once I was free, I ran out of the kitchen, through the bar area in front, and out the door.

  If I hadn’t been so upset, I would have heard the familiar rumble of engines as a group of motorcycles pulled in front of the clubhouse. But instead, I stumbled down the steps and onto the driveway with tears clouding my vision.

  I heard Mac yell my name, and I stopped to rub at my eyes. He sounded weird. Pissed...and scared, maybe? My head popped up, and my heart raced in my chest when I saw two motorcycles barreling towards me. Before I had the chance to move, strong arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me out of harm’s way.

  “Shit,” Mac grunted in my ear, squeezing me tight against his chest before setting me back on my feet. “That was too fucking close. What the hell were you thinking?” He shook me a little and scowled fiercely when he let go and saw red fingerprints and scratches on the arm Cat had grabbed in the kitchen. “Fuck, did I do that?”

  His pale green eyes filled with remorse. I reached up and patted his chest softly. “No,” I reassured him. “My skin is sensitive and marks easily, but this isn’t from you.”

  The guilt bled out of his gaze and was replaced with fury. “Someone dared to touch you? Who was it?”

  I stared up at him and shook my head. “It’s nothing. Just the way my skin is. Don’t worry about it.”

  His fingers gripped the edges of his cut and pulled me into his chest. “I’m the Prez. You’re wearing my patch. That means you’re untouchable. But you’ve got marks on your arm, tears in your eyes, and you almost got run down by one of my men. That sure as fuck is something.”

  I shook my head again. If I ever wanted any hope of a relationship with Mac in the future, I’d have to find a way to coexist with Cat. Things with her were bad enough, I didn’t want to make them worse.

  A frustrated growl rumbled up his chest, and I patted him gently again. His gaze dropped to my hand and filled with determination. Then he grabbed me around the waist, hoisted me over his shoulder, and stalked into the clubhouse.

  Chapter Seven

  Mac

  I was so done with this shit. One day…I’d only lasted one day. I knew it was pathetic but I was beyond caring at this point. My body was vibrating with tension—first from fear as I watched those bikes racing towards Bridget, then fury at the motherfucker who marked her beautiful sk
in, and now I was consumed by lust. Everything had come together and combusted, blowing apart my good intentions.

  Cat was standing in the doorway watching, her eyes wide, and she had to jump out of the way so I wouldn’t run into her.

  Bridget tugged on the back of my shirt, no doubt close to where her face was currently hanging. “Um…where are we going?” Her voice was hesitant, but with a thread of heated excitement.

  I patted her ass and then used a firm hand to hold her steady as I jogged up the stairs. “You know exactly what’s happening here, Bridget,” I growled. “I’m done fighting this. Us. I fucking need you.”

  “Okay!” she squeaked. I chuckled as I barged through my bedroom door and slammed it shut. Then I tossed her on the bed and came down over her. Her soft body melted under mine, and I groaned.

  Somehow this slip of a girl had tossed my world upside down and then righted it, when I hadn’t even realized it had always been crooked.

  I lowered my head and sucked lightly on her bottom lip before sealing our mouths together in a deep kiss. My tongue swept inside, and I grunted in approval when hers timidly tangled with mine.

  “You taste like fucking heaven, baby,” I mumbled as I placed hot, wet kisses along her jaw and down the long column of her throat. She moaned and the sound shot through me, taking the little blood I had left in my brain straight to my groin.

  I pulled back, just a little, and took in the sight of her sprawled on my bed, wearing my cut. A declaration that she was mine. In that moment, I knew, I’d have to figure out another way to bargain with Pierce. Bridget wasn’t going anywhere; I was keeping her. Age be damned. Fuck the rivalry with her father. Screw anything and everything that might keep me from her. I’d steamroll over anything in my way.

  Part of me wanted to take things sweet and slow for her, but I was still amped up from almost seeing her mowed down and the fury at the bruising and scratches on her arms.