Primal Need (Primal Howlers MC Book 2)

by Piper Davenport

  2019 Trixie Publishing, Inc.

  Copyright © 2019 by Piper Davenport

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States

  Primal Need 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 Model

  Darrin James Dedmon

  Photographer

  Golden Czermak

  Cover Art

  Jack Davenport

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Praise

  Back Blurb

  Prologue

  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

  Hacking the Biker’s Code

  Road to Peace

  Book List

  Reading Order

  About Piper

  Liz Kelly:

  Thanks again. Your insight is always so spot on!

  Jack:

  Thanks for being my muse, and really great in bed!

  Gail

  You are a scholar and a saint, and I ADORE you!

  Brandy

  Thanks for keeping the timelines and characters straight. You are godsend!

  Get ready to fall head over heels! Road to Peace is another page turner of alpha brilliance from Davenport. 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

  Dogs of fire series is sinfully hot, creatively captivating and each book has left me anxious for more. Road to Peace was no different. I loved every second of reading as the pieces of Hatch & Maisie's lives and hearts intertwined. Piper Davenport paints the most beautiful pictures of love with her words. I'm in awe. Felicia Lynn, Contemporary Romance Author

  Piper Davenport can write one hell of a sexy biker! I can’t get enough of the Dogs of Fire MC series ~ Geri Glenn, Author of the Kings of Korruption MC Series

  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

  If you're looking for a take-charge alpha hero who'll protect his heroine at any cost, then you HAVE to read Hatch and Maisie's story! I was swooning from the moment that badass biker stepped on the page! ~ Sybil Bartel, Author of the Uncompromising Series

  This is one series I will most definitely be reading!! Great job Ms. Davenport!! I am in love!! ~ Tabitha, Amazeballs Book Addicts

  Sundance

  I’m the president of the Primal Howlers out of Monument, Colorado. My wife was taken from me ten years ago, leaving me to raise our three children alone. I’ve been diagnosed with a disease that I’m not sure I’ll beat, and my club’s in the crosshairs of a rival coup.

  But enough about the upside of my life, because Wyatt Bates just walked into it, her confidence enough to rock my world, but her sweetness might just be the end of me.

  Wyatt

  I’ve lost almost everyone who ever loved me. Cancer took them all, so the last thing I’m looking for is a relationship that will break me again.

  Then I meet Thorne “Sundance” Graves and my world is turned on its head by the sexy as hell biker. Now I must choose between a chance at love or the risk of complete devastation.

  For Reagan!

  You, my darling, live entirely too far away!

  Thank you for all the support.

  Wyatt

  About a year ago…

  “DADDY, WE GOTTA go,” I said, grabbing my father’s jacket out of the closet and stepping into the family room. My father, who was supposed to start chemo today, still had his butt planted in front of the television, volume pegged on ninety-two, as always, and watching one of the Real Housewives shows. No, not watching, pretending to watch.

  “Daddy!” I growled over the television, grabbing the remote from the side table and turning it off.

  “Hey, I was watching that.”

  I shook my head. “We need to go.”

  “Bullshit,” he countered. “Why won’t you just let me die already?”

  I bit back tears. “Get your ass in my car, old man, or I’ll spend every last dime I have finding a way to make you live forever.”

  “There’d be a lot more dimes if you’d let me die so I can leave you your fucking inheritance.”

  “Daddy, I don’t need your money. I’d rather have you.”

  God, he was impossible. He and Teddy were all I had left. My older brother was currently in an assisted living facility, having a limited mental capacity due to oxygen deprivation at birth, and he’d been there since my mother had died ten years ago.

  My brother was a giant. A lean six-feet-two with blond hair and blue eyes. At first glance, you’d never know anything was wrong, until you watched him for longer than a few minutes or tried to have a conversation with him.

  He could do much more than anyone would have ever expected when he was born, but he struggled with outbursts of anger when he was frustrated or scared, and being so big, he was difficult to handle, so Dad had made the decision to institutionalize him when Mom died. Mom didn’t want Dad in charge of the finances, and quite frankly, he didn’t want the responsibility, so she’d left me access to a huge trust, along with power of attorney to pay Teddy’s medical bills. Dad hadn’t wanted to deal with any of it, so he’d signed off.

  Mom had also put a substantial amount in a trust for me to access after I turned twenty-eight, but so far, I hadn’t touched it. I owned a successful PR firm and I loved my work.

  But I’d had to take a little time off to deal with my dad, which meant my second in command, Ripley, was taking over my clients until my dad’s health was stabilized. He was pushing seventy-five, and this new cancer diagnosis meant he was living on borrowed time.

  Dad groaned as he pushed himself out of the chair. “Can’t just let an old man smoke his reefer and die quietly,” he muttered. “Gotta try and save my life.”

  I rolled my eyes as I settled his jacket over his shoulders and helped him to my car. We pulled up to the oncology center and I helped him into the building, sitting him in a lobby chair before checking him in.

  When I walked back to where I’d set him, he was asleep. I bit my lip, once again forcing back tears. Maybe this was all too much for him. Maybe I should just let him die. I knew I was being selfish, but I just couldn’t imagine him not being around.
>
  “William?” a nurse called.

  I tapped his shoulder. “Daddy?”

  He blinked up at me and then we walked slowly back to his chemo area. We arrived to find a man sitting near where Dad would be, a needle in his arm, and a vomit bag in front of him, which he was using quite violently.

  “Mr. Graves,” the nurse cried as she rushed to him. “Let me get you something for the nausea.”

  “I think we’re well past nausea, sweetheart,” Mr. Graves retorted, and my heart squeezed.

  Lordy, he had the sexiest voice alive.

  “I’m good,” he said.

  “I’ll just get Mr. Bates settled and then I’ll get you something to calm your stomach.” She turned back to my father. “I’m Tina. I’m so sorry, we’re a bit short staffed today.”

  Dad grunted in reply.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “We’ve got all the time in the world. Don’t we, Daddy?”

  “I want to sleep, so if I can sleep, then we got all the time in the world.”

  “He’s having a rough morning,” I explained.

  “Bullshit,” he growled. “I’m having a rough life, which could be over, but my pain in the ass daughter won’t let me die.”

  I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face now. “Daddy, please.”

  But my plea fell on deaf ears because he was once again fast asleep.

  “Are you okay, sweetie?” Tina asked.

  I pressed my lips into a flat line and nodded.

  “Have a seat. I’ll get Mr. Graves something for his nausea, then get your dad sorted.”

  I nodded again, still unable to find my voice. I set my purse on the floor and sat in the chair between my dad and Mr. Graves, then linked my fingers together and tried not to completely lose it in the middle of chemo row (my dad’s not so affectionate term).

  “You’re doin’ the right thing,” Mr. Graves said quietly.

  “Hm?” I’d heard him, but I wasn’t quite ready to form actual words, so I pivoted slightly to look at him.

  “You’re doin’ the right thing, sweetheart. Your dad’ll appreciate it. Eventually.”

  Him calling me sweetheart broke me, and I grabbed my purse and stood. “Excuse me,” I rasped and rushed to the bathroom like the coward I was, bursting into tears as I leaned over the sink. It took me a good ten minutes to pull myself together and I headed back to Dad to find him still asleep, but now hooked up to his chemo.

  Mr. Graves watched me closely, and his ice blue eyes seemed to see into my soul. It was both comforting and disconcerting. I gave him a slight smile and took my seat again. “I’m sorry for rushing off, Mr. Graves.” He choked on a laugh and I frowned. “Did I say something funny?”

  “Sundance.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Call me Sundance. Mr. Graves is someone’s science teacher.”

  I gave him a genuine smile this time. “I suppose it is, isn’t it? But it’s a good, strong name, either way.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “How are you feeling?” I asked. “Can I grab you a Sprite or saltines or something?”

  “I’m good, sweetheart. The nurse gave me something and it’s workin’.”

  “If that changes, please let me know.” I nodded to my snoring father. “Dad’s not requiring my help right now.”

  Sundance smiled. “Thanks.”

  After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence… well, other than Dad’s snoring… I turned back to Sundance. “Are you always here alone?”

  “No.”

  When I realized I wasn’t going to get more than that, I nodded. “Oh, okay. Good.”

  My phone started buzzing in my purse, so I took the lull in the wickedly inspired conversation to answer it. “Wyatt Bates.”

  * * *

  Sundance

  Just fuckin’ kill me now.

  Wyatt. Of course her name’s Wyatt. Fuckin’ sexy name for a fuckin’ sexy woman, and I’m sittin’ here looking as wrecked and as old as her father. Jesus!

  I slid my beanie lower in an effort to cover more of my now almost totally bald head, wishing for my beard back to hide my expressions. My wife used to joke that if I thought real hard, my beard would grow.

  That was not the case now.

  At least I’d stopping puking in front of her.

  “No, Ripley, he cannot DM random dick pics to women on Instagram. Well, if you know that, why is he still doing it?” Wyatt dropped her forehead to her palm and shook her head. “Reel him in, because if I have to do it, his dick will no longer be attached to his body and the problem will be solved.”

  This last part she practically whispered, but I heard it and couldn’t stop a chuckle.

  “He’s asleep,” she continued. “As ornery as ever. Yes, exactly. No,” she said with a sigh. “I needed the distraction. Okay, thanks.”

  She hung up and dropped her phone in her purse just as my son, Orion, walked in.

  “Hey, Pops,” he said, and I gave him a chin lift as he sat in the chair beside me. “How are you feeling?”

  “Never better.”

  Wyatt faced me and raised an eyebrow. Jesus, she was beautiful.

  “He’s bullshitting me, right?” Orion said, and Wyatt nodded.

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  Orion reached his hand out. “I’m Orion.”

  “Wyatt,” she said, and shook his hand.

  “Fuckin’ cool as shit name,” my boy said.

  “Thanks.” She smiled, and fuck me, I saw she had dimples. Jesus. “My dad wanted a boy.”

  “So did mine,” Orion retorted, and I shook my head.

  “Quit flirtin’ with the poor woman,” I snarled.

  “Don’t stop him on my account,” Wyatt said. “I don’t get a whole lot of normal human interaction these days.”

  “See, Pops? Some people enjoy my conversation.”

  “Well, other people enjoy it more when you stop talkin’.”

  Orion grinned. “You’re feeling better.”

  “This is him feeling better?” Wyatt asked.

  Orion laughed. “Pretty much.”

  “Leave the poor woman alone,” I grumbled.

  She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s been a long time since a gorgeous man verbally sparred with me. It’s a nice change.”

  Orion grinned. “She thinks I’m gorgeous, Pops.”

  I glared at my kid. He needed to quit while he was ahead.

  “Mr. Graves?”

  I focused on Tina who walked over to me and leaned in to check my IV.

  “You’re about ready to get out of here,” she said. “How’s your nausea?”

  “Gone,” I said.

  “Good.” She smiled and disconnected me from the life-saving poison. “Feel free to sit here for a bit and get your sea legs under you, but you can head out anytime.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Tina checked on Wyatt’s dad, then left us. I wanted out of this death house, so I pushed up, ignoring my weakness, but Orion grabbed my arm and frowned up at me. “You good?”

  “Golden.”

  “We’ll get you home and Letti can fawn all over you.”

  I nodded and smiled at Wyatt. “It was nice to meet you, sweetheart.”

  “You too,” she said, watching me closely.

  Jesus, she was pretty.

  “Dad,” Orion pressed. “You ready?”

  I nodded and followed my son out of the building.

  For the next month or so, Wyatt and I sat quietly chatting while her father snored his way through chemo. How he could sleep through this hell, I had no idea, but it gave me a chance to get to know her a little and I liked what I learned.

  But then one day, she and her father weren’t there. My sergeant, Moses, had dropped me off, so I was alone, and since there were privacy laws, no one would tell me where she was.

  This could mean her dad was done or it could mean her dad was dead.

  My stomach dropped. I had a feeling it was
the latter.

  I pulled my phone out and did a quick search of her father’s name, but nothing came up, so I searched Wyatt’s name and was flooded with links. She was kind of a big deal in the PR world and as I scrolled through a few of the results, my admiration for her grew.

  Way out of my fucking league.

  So, I put her out of my mind.

  Sort of.

  I had shit to deal with in the form of my club gearing up for a fight we hadn’t started, but would most definitely finish, and my heir-apparent unwilling to step up to the plate.

  Maybe that last statement was a little harsh, but Orion and I were butting heads a fuck of a lot more than we had in the past and I knew that a conversation needed to be had. It was all coming to a head and I was fuckin’ tired.

  So fuckin’ tired.

  I’d had another chemo appointment yesterday and my daughter, Violet, had insisted on taking me. Then stay home from school for a couple of days. Jesus, I loved my baby girl, but she was a fusser. She also looked exactly like her mother, other than the fact she had my eyes, and she was a daily reminder of everything I’d lost. Tall, blonde, and sassy as hell, she was the absolute light of my life. But I could tell she was scared, and I hated that. More than anything. My girl should sleep untroubled.

  I’d had to sneak out of my own goddamn house this morning after hearing one of our cannabis grow houses had been set on fire. Orion’s woman, Raquel, had been trapped inside along with our master scientist, Paul Chandler, and they’d both been rushed to emergency.

  After a rather heated discussion with my kid in front of Raquel, she’d ordered us out of her room, and Orion had insisted on driving me home.

  Where I was met by my fuming daughter.

  “I can’t believe you!” she snarled.

  “I’m fine, Letti.”

  “I’m taking his truck with me,” Orion said. “So, he’ll be forced to stay put.”

  “Well, I’m gonna put a fucking bell on him if he tries anything again,” Violet threatened.