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  Savage Heart

  A Savages MC Novella

  by

  Sara Fawkes

  Savage Heart

  Copyright 2014 Sara Fawkes

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book 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 e-book retailer

  Formatted by IRONHORSE Formatting

  To my readers, because you are AWESOME! Thank all of you who helped me figure out the perfect hero name when we were down to the wire.

  And to the Dude, who gave me an appreciation for all things motorcycle (including riding one of my own). Love you, babe.

  Table of Contents

  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 One

  Rancid, the biker sitting beside me, lived up to his nickname. Alcohol and other, fouler odors emanated from the man, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. I desperately tried not to breathe through my nose, but it was tough.

  “See, I’ve been with this club for going on eight years now.” His words were slurred but still understandable. “You wouldn’t believe the shit I’ve seen, but it’s all good right? Because these are my brothers.”

  Whatever danger I’d been expecting on this investigation, so far I was underwhelmed. The only reason I tolerated Rancid's presence was because he liked to talk, especially to pretty ladies. It wasn't without its sacrifices however. The drunker he got, the more touchy-feely he became. I suppressed a shudder when his hand rested on my knee.

  “You’re not like the girls we usually get in here,” he murmured, the words running together. He leaned forward, and I did my best not to lean away from him. “I like that.”

  He wasn’t joking about me standing apart. In hindsight, maybe I should have tried to blend in better. I was definitely the only lady—and I used the term loosely—in the bar wearing slacks. Most of the other women were my age or younger, and dressed in as little clothing as possible. There were a few older woman in jeans and leather vests scattered through the bar, but they generally stuck beside their men or in groups among themselves.

  “You know,” Rancid went on, “I’ve always had a thing for redheads.” He gave me a wide smile, twin gold teeth glinting in the low bar light. “Bet you’re killer in the sack.”

  Oh yeah, scintillating conversation. This interview was going nowhere, but I didn’t know how to extricate myself. The bar was packed, especially for a Saturday afternoon, but I had a feeling Rancid would follow me around. He had that puppy dog look, and I had neither the heart nor the balls to tell him what I really thought.

  If I wanted to investigate motorcycle gangs, I was in the right place. There were several motorcycle clubs milling about, the result of that morning’s poker run. I didn’t have a motorcycle or anyone to ride with, so I’d planted myself at the final stop hoping to find a story. Rancid’s patch said that he was a member of the Savage Legion, a club that I’d read about before in the news.

  If I was looking for a mad, bad biker story, however, I was barking up the wrong tree.

  Maybe I should have held out for someone else.

  “My old lady left me a while back,” Rancid continued, his hand moving up my thigh. “But she wasn’t nearly as pretty as you.”

  I shuddered and tried to keep from pulling away. The story, get the story, then shower later. “So, ah, what do you do for the Savages?”

  His barrel chest puffed up with pride. “I’m a full-patch member, and that means I get all the good shit.” He leaned forward. “Especially the ladies.”

  I thought I was going to pass out from his breath—the smell could have curdled milk. “What are the membership requirements?” I managed, struggling to breathe.

  “A motorcycle and military service.”

  The words hadn’t come from Rancid, and I turned to see someone else standing right behind me. All I saw for a moment was a black vest, but as my eyes travelled upwards I sucked in a breath. The man behind me was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. Like most of the other bikers here, he wore a leather vest with various patches on the front. Unlike most others in the room however, he was clean-shaven, without the beard I’d come to expect. Piercing blue eyes peered at me beneath dark shaggy hair. My eyes travelled along a strong jaw line covered in dark stubble.

  I realized I was staring and, not knowing what else to do, held out my hand. I had the feeling he knew more about me than I did him, and didn’t like that. Before I could ask his name however, Rancid’s fingers dug into my thigh possessively and I winced.

  “Back off, Ash,” Rancid growled, tugging at me possessively. “She’s mine.”

  This time I couldn’t help but lean away, which only made Rancid grab me harder. The newcomer’s brow furrowed and his lips thinned into a firm line. His expression made me wonder if Rancid wasn’t about to get his ass handed to him, but then he clapped a hand on the older biker’s back. “I think I heard Sunny ask about you,” he murmured, gesturing toward the rear of the bar.

  Just like that, Rancid had forgotten me. “Really?”

  “Why don’t you go say hi?”

  To my surprise, the large man all but fell off the barstool and staggered across the room toward a group of ladies. My eyes followed after the drunken biker, curious to see what would happen next. I wasn’t sure who this “Sunny” was, but I’d have to thank her someday.

  Looking away, I fiddled with my drink on the bar before clearing my throat as the newcomer took Rancid’s chair. “So, who’s Sunny?”

  “A club girl he’s been trying to fuck for a while. She knows the game, don’t worry. He won’t bother you again tonight.”

  I snorted. “So I’m easily forgotten. There’s a blow to the old ego.”

  He grinned, and my mouth went dry. “Oh, I’d say you definitely stand out.”

  I could only stare, unable to think of a witty comeback. Men like this shouldn’t be allowed to be so damn gorgeous. I’d conditioned myself to expect men like Rancid, but the biker beside me didn’t fit the stereotype I held in my mind. He was young, maybe in his early thirties. The leather vest he wore was form-fitting, showing off wide shoulders and a narrow waist. He also smelled nice, a welcomed relief after being beside Rancid.

  I didn’t realize I was leaning in toward him until my elbow brushed his vest. His grinned widened, and my face grew hot. Immediately I straightened up, looking back at the bar and trying to still my beating heart.

  “So, what exactly are y
ou here for anyway?”

  It sounded as though he was flirting with me, but something about his question made me sit up straighter. “I’m an investigative reporter for a local news station,” I said, being as honest as I felt comfortable with. I wasn’t sure how they’d respond to the truth, but I didn’t want them to think I was spying. A silly fear, given my reason for being there was essentially that, but I figured I’d be as up front as possible.

  “I’ve seen you on TV.” He studied me for a moment. “You do the occasional fluff story, don’t you?”

  My lips thinned. “I’m trying to move up the ladder,” I said in a curt voice. “If I can bring an interesting story to my bosses, maybe I’ll get noticed for better segments.” I held out my hand. “Eve Parker, although I’m sure you knew my name already.”

  He took my hand but didn’t shake it like I’d expected. His palms were rough, and my belly tightened as he turned my hand over and laced his fingers through mine. I stared at our entwined hands, my mind completely blank. His skin was warm and dry, and his thumb etched slow lines of pleasure against the back of my hand.

  “So, what questions do you have?”

  My heart was beating too fast, and I pulled my knees in tighter, trying to hide the needy pulsing between my thighs. His actions were deliberate, I knew that. The man knew exactly what he was doing to me, and I couldn’t help my reaction. After a moment of my silence, he lifted my knuckles to his lips, eyes never leaving mine, and I trembled in reaction.

  Get a grip on yourself, Eve. Find the story here.

  All I wanted at that moment was to jump his bones, but I forced myself to speak. “And you are?”

  He grinned again at me, leaning forward. “Name’s Ash,” he murmured, blue eyes crinkling around the edges. “I’m the sergeant of arms for the local chapter of the Savages.”

  I sucked in a breath. The sergeant of arms of any club was in charge of maintaining order within the club and defending against any outside threats. No wonder he’d approached me; I was an unknown element, a potential threat. “Look, I wasn’t trying to make any trouble…”

  “Ask your questions, and maybe we can help one another.”

  Unnerved by his presence, I distracted myself by taking a long sip of my drink. Looking away helped, but I still felt his eyes on me. I tried to stop the trembling, but with his fingers running through mine, he was all I could think about. With Rancid, questions had been easy. He’d been happy to talk about almost anything as long as I gave him attention and tolerated his presence. The dark man beside me, however, was a whole other league.

  I wasn’t sure I was up for the challenge.

  “So the Savages,” I said, clearing my throat. “What sort of person does it take to become a part of your gang?”

  “Everyone in the Savages is active or former military. Doesn’t matter what branch, but you have to serve before you can become a member.”

  I cocked my head sideways, then looked over toward Rancid. The older biker was slumped in a chair, one limp hand holding a beer. He was alone, so whatever he’d been hoping for with this mysterious Sunny obviously hadn’t materialized. His t-shirt had pulled up to expose a hairy belly, and I looked away. “Even my former suitor?”

  “Army. He served in Kuwait during Desert Storm, then a stint in both Korea and Germany. He’s the real deal, just fallen on hard times.”

  “And you?”

  He chuckled. “Guess.”

  I studied him, trying to ignore the feel of his hand in mine. While I could probably have removed my hand from his grasp, I couldn’t make myself let go. I hadn’t been this close to a man in a long time. Touching him felt…nice. “If I had to guess,” I said slowly, “I’d say…Marines?”

  “Good guess.” He gave my knuckle another kiss, eyes never leaving mine, and butterflies broke out in my belly.

  Someone jostled me from behind, and a sharp elbow pushed me forward into Ash’s arms. I flushed again, wondering if he thought this was some act on my part. His grip was like iron, but when I looked up he wasn’t watching me. Setting me aside, he stepped off his stool and stepped between the two men beside us.

  The man who’d elbowed me also had on a Savage Legion patch, but I couldn’t see the other man’s back. Something told me, however, that he wasn’t in the same club. He had his hand wrapped tightly around a beer bottle, as if prepared to use it as a weapon.

  When Ash stepped up, his club member immediately backed down. Ash peered down at the other man. “We don’t want any trouble here.”

  The smaller man pointed at the other Savage. “This fucker tried to steal my beer.”

  Music still blared loudly from the nearby jukebox, but otherwise you could have heard a pin drop. There was the scuffling of chairs moving along the wood floor as several men stood up around them. From my vantage point I couldn’t tell who was in what club, but the tension was heavy in the air. My bet was that it was a mix of the two groups, and I was right smack in the middle of a potential brawl.

  Well, you wanted a story.

  I also wanted to leave the bar in one piece.

  Ash jerked his head toward the door. “You need to leave,” he murmured, barely audible even this close. “Now.”

  The smaller man glared up at Ash, and then slammed his beer on the counter. “Fuck you guys,” he growled, making a motion with his hand. Two men broke off from the group and followed him. They all had matching vests reading “Jackals” across the top patch.

  The rest of the men standing watched them leave, and I realized these were all part of Ash’s club. They’d outnumbered the Jackals at least four to one; easy to see why the other group had left.

  I wondered what the outcome would have been if the groups were an even ratio.

  “Does that happen often?” I asked as Ash sat down once again beside me. Around the bar, others went back to their respective groups. Sure enough, they all had the same patches as Ash.

  Ash shrugged. “We take care of disrespect together. You fuck with one of us, you fuck with us all.”

  I let out a shaky breath as his fingers once again twined through mine. There was something incredibly intimate about the gesture. I kept trying to remind myself he was dangerous, but that was far from being a turnoff. The danger was a powerful aphrodisiac, and for the first time in my life I understood the lure of the bad boy.

  I wondered if I’d ever look at “normal” men the same way.

  “Any more questions, darlin’?”

  “Huh?” My idiotic response jarred me back to my senses, and I tried to drag myself back into investigative mode. “Some people seem to think that the Savages are an “outlaw” biker club. Care to comment?”

  He leaned in close to me, his stubble scraping against my cheek. “What do you think we are, sweetbutt?”

  A small sound escaped me, completely unbidden. I bit my lip and tried to look away as the desperate need to touch this man consumed me, but he wouldn’t have any part of that. His fingers folded under my chin and forced my head around so I had to look at him. “So, you want a story?”

  I couldn’t speak, couldn’t make myself respond to his question. It would have been so damned easy to grab his face and pull him into a kiss, but he held me immobile and it was incredible. The trembling inside me intensified as he squeezed my jaw. I felt weak, powerless against his strength, and heaven help me, I only wanted him more for it.

  Abruptly he let me go and pulled me off my stool. My feet barely had time to hit the floor before he swept me up into his arms. His face was only inches away, blue eyes glittering in the low light, and I could only make a small, needy sound as I clutched at his thick arms.

  “How about we go someplace private for this interview,” he murmured, and then pulled me around the bar toward the back room.

  Chapter Two

  The room was small but filled with people playing pool. They all looked up as we entered, and Ash jerked a thumb behind him. “Everyone, out.”

  I thought there would be arguin
g, but the room cleared out in seconds. I stood in the middle next to the pool table as Ash shut the door behind them, then stalked back toward me. I didn’t realize I was backing away from him until the pool table bumped against my bottom. Ash loomed over me, staring down for a moment, then reached down and picked me up. Caught by surprise, I grabbed onto his vest as he set me on the table and pulled my thighs apart, settling himself between them.

  “Okay, darlin’, ask your questions.”

  My mouth worked but no sound would come out. His fingertips trailed down the side of my neck, burning a brand down my chest and across to one side. I pressed into his hand and gasped out loud as he squeezed my breast, thumbing the nipple through my shirt.

  “Should I explain how the Savages got their name?”

  I stared up into those ice-blue eyes, still unable to speak. My hands tightened around the edges of his vest, trying to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge. His grip tightened almost painfully on my knees, spreading my legs further apart as he ground himself against me. There was no denying the thick bulge there, and a rush of heat spilled from between my thighs, soaking my panties.

  “Or have you forgotten your story and just want me to fuck you senseless?”

  I let out a little moan at the last statement, unable to hold back my reaction. Everything about this man took me by surprise and left me craving more. I didn’t know how to stop myself, or whether I should, and Ash didn’t seem inclined to give me a choice in the matter. That in and of itself enflamed me to the point where it was all I could do to hang on and enjoy the ride.

  He must have seen my choice in my eyes because he grinned. I didn’t know what to expect next, but when I saw the large knife in his hands my eyes went wide. My breath stuttered to a halt in my lungs as he ran the knife down the front of my body, the metal clicking against the buttons of my shirt.

  “Let’s get rid of these clothes, shall we?”