Dom: Silver Saints MC

by Fiona Davenport

  Dom

  Silver Saints MC

  Fiona Davenport

  Copyright © 2020 by Fiona Davenport

  Cover designed by Elle Christensen

  Edited by Editing4Indies

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Dom

  1. Lucy

  2. Dom

  3. Lucy

  4. Dom

  5. Lucy

  6. Dom

  7. Lucy

  8. Dom

  9. Lucy

  10. Dom

  11. Lucy

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Dom

  Silver Saints MC

  On the run after being in the wrong place at the wrong time, Lucy Diamond was desperate enough to try anything. Picking the pocket of a sexy biker turned out to be the best decision she ever made.

  As an enforcer for the Silver Saints MC, Dominic “Dom” Lazar had a reputation for being ruthless. But the last thing he wanted to do was punish the tiny beauty who tried to steal his wallet. Lucy was welcome to anything he had since he planned to claim her as his own.

  1

  Lucy

  My stomach let out a loud growl, and I struggled to hold back tears of frustration. I had never felt so hungry in my life. Until about a week ago, my life was fairly normal. I had a decent job that I didn’t love but paid okay. My apartment wasn’t anything to write home about, and I didn’t have a roommate, so the space was all mine to do with what I wanted, when I wanted. My car was only five years old and still had another year on the extended warranty. And I always had food in my kitchen, even if it was mostly generic stuff.

  That life felt as though it were a million years behind me. I probably didn’t have a job anymore since I’d been a no-show for five days in a row. I hadn’t been inside my apartment since the last morning I’d left for work. And I hadn’t eaten a decent meal since the dollar-menu burger I’d gotten yesterday afternoon—although calling it a “decent meal” was a stretch. The only thing I still had going for me was my car, which was a good thing because it also served as my home at the moment.

  After putting ten dollars into the tank—and cringing at how little cash I had left—I parked in a spot on the main drag in a town that was more than five hundred miles away from where I lived. Tired of being cooped up in my car, I decided to get out and stretch my legs. A few doors down, I spotted a help wanted sign in the window of a diner and briefly considered going in to ask about the job. I’d waited tables before, but it didn’t look like the kind of place that would be willing to hire me under the table and my safety depended on me flying under the radar at the moment.

  I wandered farther down the street, eventually crossing over to the other side when I was about half a mile from my car. I only made it another block before Mother Nature decided to rain on my parade—literally. I raced under the nearest awning so I wouldn’t be drenched. I waited there for five minutes before I realized I was standing in front of a bar and decided to go inside and wait out the storm. Maybe if I was lucky, some guy would want to buy me a drink and I could get a soda. The sugar and caffeine would be enough to keep me going for a few hours at least.

  The lighting was dim inside the bar, and it took a moment for my vision to adjust. The place was nicer than I’d expected with hardwood floors, black leather booths lining the walls, tall tables with high stools scattered around the room, and a bar that took up almost the entire length of the space. There weren’t many people inside, and I second-guessed my decision when I noticed they were all men. A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed the rain hadn’t let up outside, so I made my way over to a booth in the corner and picked up the menu that was wedged between the salt and pepper shakers in the middle of the table. The prices were decent but still out of my range.

  I was tracing my finger over the picture of a plate of chicken wings when a guy walked up to the table and asked, “What can I get you?”

  “Um.” My cheeks filled with heat as I whispered, “Just a water for now while I try to decide what I want.”

  The bartender poured me a glass of ice water, left it on the table, and went back behind the bar just as a man came through a door marked “Employees Only” on the far wall of the room. He didn’t look my way, but my breath caught in my chest as my eyes scanned him up and down. I took my time doing it, and not just because there was a lot of him to take in. The man was so darn sexy that I couldn’t tear my gaze away from him.

  He was more than a foot taller than me, probably about six and a half feet tall. His jeans were snug in the thighs, and the way the muscles bunched with each step he took was mesmerizing. His long and muscular arms had veins that would make a phlebotomist very happy. They were also covered in sexy tattoos. His thick, dark hair looked as though it was overdue for a cut, and my fingers itched to run through it. If I’d run into him in a bar back home, I might’ve worked up the nerve to flirt a bit even though I tended to be super shy around hot guys. Something about this man had me wishing I was more daring...and not in the middle of a situation that had me on the run.

  When he leaned over the bar to talk to the guy behind it, everything inside me stilled. My gaze had been drawn to his incredible butt, but what had my heart pounding in my chest was the fact that his wallet was sticking out of his back pocket. He was deep in conversation with the bartender and didn’t seem to notice when one of the two men sitting at the high-top table to his right got up and walked behind him to go to the bathroom. His entire focus was centered on whatever they were talking about, and he had no idea that his wallet was less than an inch away from falling out of his pocket.

  I’d never been tempted to steal anything in my entire life, but the bulge of the leather material called to me. His wallet had to be stuffed with cash; money that would be the difference between me starving and having a full belly. Before I realized what I was doing, I was out of my seat and walking over to the bar. My hand shook when I was behind him and reached out to gently tug the wallet from his pocket. Tucking it into my waistband and yanking my shirt to cover what I’d done, I sidled past him and smiled up at the bartender. “I’ll be ready to order in a minute. Just need to pop into the restroom.”

  My plan to take a few bills and then drop the wallet on the floor of the hallway leading to the bathrooms was thwarted when a hand wrapped around my upper arm and yanked me back. I let out a little yelp, and the hot guy turned to look at me. His brown eyes scanned me from head to toe, pausing on where the guy behind me was holding my bicep. A muscle jumped in his jaw as he took a step toward me, his gaze going to the man who’d caught me in the act. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Sheriff? I never took you for the kind of man who’d get rough with a pretty girl, and I know damn well you’re smart enough not to pull that shit on property belonging to the Silver Saints.”

  Oh, crap. Of course, the first time I ever stole something I’d do it right in front of a cop.

  “Yeah, well, this pretty girl”—the sheriff reached around me to pull the wallet from my waistband, and the hot guy’s eyes filled with fury as they followed the man’s hand—“stole this right out of your pocket, and I’m not usually gentle when I’m putting cuffs on a thief.”

  I felt all the blood drain from my face and would’ve crumpled to the floor if the sheriff hadn’t been holding on to me. Going to jail would suck, but having my name entered into the system terrified me. My eyes filled w
ith tears as I watched the hot guy reach out to take his wallet and tuck it back into his pocket. But then he did the last thing I expected—he wrapped his fingers around the sheriff’s wrist and pulled his hand off my arm. Stepping closer to me, he growled, “The cuffs won’t be necessary.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” The sheriff eyed me up and down. “She’s a tiny thing. I’m sure she won’t be too much trouble getting into the back of my car.”

  “She’s not fucking going anywhere with you,” the hot guy disagreed with a scowl. “The Silver Saints take care of stuff like this on their own.”

  This time, I finally realized what he meant by the Silver Saints. The leather vest he was wearing should’ve clued me in faster—preferably before I’d tried to steal his wallet—but I wasn’t thinking very clearly lately. And my luck had turned from bad to worse since it seemed as though my act of desperation meant that I’d jumped from the frying pan straight into the fire.

  2

  Dom

  I gently took hold of her arm, making sure she didn’t escape. Heat sizzled where our bare skin touched, and it sent sparks of red-hot desire straight to my cock. Which had been hard since the moment I heard her feminine yelp. I was surprised at my body’s reaction and curious about what the commotion was about, so I’d paused in my conversation with Bear and turned around.

  I’d been stunned silent for a few seconds as my eyes did a sweep of the tiny woman in front of me. I was a big guy, but even someone of average size would tower over her. Her skin was pale, and with big blue eyes and a perfect, pink, rosebud mouth, she reminded me of the porcelain dolls my sister used to collect. Her long, thick black hair hung down to her waist, some of it spilling over her shoulders to rest on an amazing set of tits, especially for someone so small and delicate. She was wearing a rumpled pink T-shirt, black hoodie, and jeans that molded to her gorgeous ass a little more than I liked in the presence of other men.

  To my surprise, desire wasn’t the only emotion that she’d inspired. I’d felt a surge of warmth and protectiveness. She was so small and feminine, breakable. She needed someone to watch over her.

  Seeing the sheriff’s hand on her had instantly filled me with rage, and I’d wanted to break it off. Especially when I’d noticed the fear and panic swimming in her gorgeous blue eyes. She’d trembled, and a possessiveness that I’d never experienced before had risen to the surface. My gut told me she was in trouble.

  She didn’t need just anyone watching over her. She needed me. She was mine.

  It barely registered when the sheriff had told me she’d picked my pocket—which I would be dealt endless grief for by my brothers. In my defense, no one from around here would dare to steal from a Silver Saint, and I was in the bar we owned, so I’d had my guard down.

  All I knew was that she was frightened, and I couldn’t let the sheriff take her away. So when I ordered him to leave her to me, I was grateful for the influence we had because he backed down and handed her over.

  My little doll gazed up at me with worry and regret. “I’m so sorry. I’ve never done anything like this before”—her eyes filled with tears, and a sharp pain pierced my heart—“I swear, I won’t ever try to steal again. Please, just let me go.” My instincts told me that she was telling the truth, but I wasn’t about to let her go.

  I didn’t think she’d be receptive to hearing me stake my claim at that moment, though, so I just shook my head and led her toward the exit. I needed to get her back to my place before we got into whatever was going on. When she stumbled after a few steps, I spun around and scooped her into my arms. She made a small sound of protest, but a smug grin spread across my face when she immediately cuddled into me and tucked her head under my chin.

  Luckily, the rain had cleared, and I didn’t have to worry about how to get her home without us both getting soaked. Not that the idea didn’t have merit...it would make it easier to get her out of her clothes.

  I set her on her feet beside my motorcycle and laced our fingers together in case she tried to get away. Although, she looked too terrified to bolt. “Relax, doll,” I murmured in a soft, soothing tone. “No one’s gonna hurt you.”

  She must have felt some of what was between us because a little of the fear in her eyes seemed to abate. “But you’re taking me to biker jail?” she squeaked.

  I nearly barked out a laugh, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Which shocked the shit out of me. Had this badass enforcer turned into a pussy-whipped marshmallow like Mac and Link with one look at this girl?

  Rather than answer her question, I asked, “What’s your name?” She’d figure things out soon enough.

  She hesitated, and I narrowed my eyes in warning. “Don’t lie to me, little doll.”

  “Lucy,” she whispered.

  I waited for her to give me the rest, but she remained silent. “Lucy what?”

  She swallowed hard and glanced away. “I’d rather not say. Trust me, the less you know about me, the better.” There wasn’t a trace of dishonesty in her tone or expression. And it hadn’t taken me long to recognize that my doll wore her thoughts and feelings on her face. The fact that she really believed what she said just confirmed my suspicions that she was in trouble. I would’ve bet my cut that she was running from something or someone. Another excellent reason to get her back to the Silver Saints compound as soon as possible.

  “Let me worry about that,” I stated as I grabbed my helmet from one of my saddlebags. “Last name, doll,” I demanded as I lowered the protective gear onto her head and secured the strap. It was really big on her, and I smiled because she looked ridiculously fucking adorable.

  “Skye,” she muttered so quietly I almost missed it.

  “I’m Dominic. Hop on.” I didn’t wait for Lucy to attempt to climb onto my bike since she was so small I was worried she would fall and hurt herself. With a firm grip on her waist, I lifted her onto the seat and immediately swung my leg over to straddle it right behind her. The law said I should put her behind me, but I was so big compared to her that I felt better with her caged in by my strong arms and thighs.

  “Um, what about my car?” she asked suddenly.

  Shit. I didn’t think about how she’d gotten to the bar, only where she was headed to now. “I’ll have one of the prospects pick it up tonight and bring it to the compound.”

  “Compound?” she squeaked again. “I thought you said you weren’t taking me to biker jail?”

  Unable to hold it in this time, I threw my head back and howled with laughter. She turned her head to glance up at me, and her lips were tipped down in a little pout. I shook my head and muttered under my breath. “Too fucking cute.” I showed her where to put her hands to hold on and gave her instructions about how to ride a motorcycle as a passenger. Then I kicked up the stand and started the bike.

  Lucy trembled a little as I pulled out of the parking lot and plastered herself back against me, which put her sexy little ass right up against my hard on, making me stifle a groan. But as soon as we hit the open road, her fearful tension turned to vibrations of excitement. She sat forward and lifted her face to the wind. Her hair blew back, and I inhaled deeply, enjoying its sweet vanilla scent.

  I made a sharp turn to the left, and Lucy’s laughter floated back to me on the wind, making me smile. I’d worried a little about how she would handle riding such a powerful machine, especially being so tiny, but it quickly became clear she was made to ride.

  Twenty minutes later, I waved to Breaker, one of the other enforcers, who was manning the gate. He gave me a chin lift in return, then seemed to do a double take when he realized I had a passenger. Instead of opening the gate and letting me ride through, he just stood there and grinned as he waited for me to come to a stop in front of him.

  “What the fuck, brother?” I grumbled.

  Breaker leaned in a little closer, and when he got a good look at Lucy, his grin morphed into a smug smile that stretched across his face. “You alright, ma’am?” he asked her with a
little too much glee in his tone. “Did this bastard bring you here against your will?”

  Lucy stiffened, and I slipped an arm around her waist, holding her tight to me as I scowled at Breaker, silently promising to cut off his balls and feed them to the coyotes. “Open the fucking gate,” I growled.

  Breaker shook his head. “Not until I hear this little lady tell me—”

  My arm shot out, and I punched the asshole in the shoulder so hard it knocked him off balance. “Open. The. Fucking. Gate.” My tone was deadly, and Breaker’s smirk wavered. After a second, he just shrugged and chuckled as he returned to the guard shack to give us entrance to the compound.

  A few minutes later, I pulled into one of the stalls in the private garage behind the clubhouse and put down the kickstand. I shut off the bike, then dismounted and faced Lucy who was sitting still, looking lost in thought. Damn, she was gorgeous. We had some shit to resolve, but I was having a hard time focusing on anything except her ripe body and how badly I wanted her under me.

  Her head suddenly twisted toward me, and she breathed, “That was incredible. I’ve always been afraid of motorcycles, but...wow.” I would have smiled at her innocent wonder, but it was making me so hard I could barely see straight.

  Instead, I silently grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her off the bike. Once her feet were on the ground, I took her hand and muttered, “Let’s go.” Then I practically dragged her to the back entrance of the clubhouse.