Chapter 1
1
MAVERICK
A sane person would probably be second-guessing themselves when contemplating what I was about to do. But I’d been going crazy since the moment I laid eyes on Molly Mackenzie—the oldest daughter of Jared “Mac” Mackenzie, the president of the Silver Saints Motorcycle Club.
They had a fierce reputation, and not many people were brave enough to go against them. It wasn’t much different from the rep my own MC, the Iron Rogues, had in our territory. And if my dad—who’d been the first VP—saw some older punk sniffing around his daughter, he’d have warned him off too. Which was exactly what I’d done when I found out about Lee and Kansas. Then the shit hit the fan when I took his sister for a trade, and when everything finally calmed down, our clubs had a truce and loose connection.
Now, I was about to jeopardize everything. Still…I felt no hesitation.
Ever since the birthday party two weeks ago, I’d been racking my brain, trying to figure out how to see Molly again. She was well guarded since she was not only a club princess but also the first daughter. Although, considering the wide berth her protection gave her, I was pretty sure she wasn’t aware of them.
I’d been hoping to devise a way to see her that wouldn’t send up red flags and give me time with her before I had her dad trying to put me in the ground. But after two weeks of missing her, waking up in a sweat from dirty dreams, and biting my brothers’ heads off because I was always in a shit mood, I’d come to the conclusion that there was no subtle way of doing this.
I’d also spent the past couple of weeks learning everything I could about Molly and her life. She was a tattoo artist—one of the most highly sought after in the area. Silver Ink, where she worked, always had a waiting list. She was really fucking talented, and I was determined to have her stamp on me. So this seemed like the easiest way to see her again without alerting the cavalry right off the bat.
I hopped off my Harley and strode toward the entrance to the tattoo parlor. It was attached to the SS compound on the back, but the front entrance was public, so I didn’t have to deal with as much security.
A little bell dinged when I walked inside and pulled off my shades, sticking them in the inner pocket of my cut. The place had an edgy, rock n’ roll vibe that was kick-ass, with black floors that had silver flecks, dark gray walls, and black leather furniture. There was shiny chrome all over the place, though, and bright lights, so the place didn’t seem dark. The walls were also covered with metal artwork that looked like they had probably been drawings for custom ink.
Behind a front desk were a series of tattoo stations, all separated with curtains in case the client wanted privacy. I froze when I saw a gorgeous redhead sitting with her back to me, leaning over the arm of a client as she worked. Tendrils of jealousy snaked their way through my body, and I clenched my fists at my side.
Get a fucking grip, Mav.
The guy was at least fifty, had a gray handlebar mustache, and a bit of a beer belly. It wasn’t like he was competition. However, it was when he hissed and blinked up at the ceiling, clearly trying not to cry, that those feelings disappeared.
“Can I help you?”
Suppressing a laugh, I smoothed my expression as I turned my focus to the girl behind the front desk. When she smiled, I immediately knew she was related to my woman. They had the same lips and eye color, though this girl’s hair was a darker auburn, and she had fewer freckles. Molly’s sister Dahlia did piercings at Silver Ink, so I assumed she was the one who greeted me.
Tearing my eyes away from my woman, I ambled up to the counter. “Got an appointment.”
“Hi. I’m Dahlia. You must be M. Crawford,” the girl said as she typed something on the computer.
“Yeah.” While I was willing to deal with whatever shit blew my way over claiming Molly, I figured it best not to send up any red flags just yet. So I’d made the appointment under just my first initial and last name.
“I see it's your first time with us, but clearly, this isn’t your first tattoo.” She gestured to my neck. Most of it was covered in ink, as well as a string of words across my collarbone, and a lot of it was visible above the crew neck of my white T-shirt.
She leaned over the counter a little, and I lifted my chin to give her a better view. “That’s really nice work,” she murmured with surprise, her eyes coming back up to mine.
My ink had all been done by one of my brothers, Whiskey, who ran Iron Inkworks, the tattoo shop owned by our club. Whiskey was one of the best artists I’d ever met, but after doing some research and seeing Molly’s work, I was looking forward to having her stamp on me for multiple reasons.
“Did your artist retire or something?” Dahlia asked as she grabbed a clipboard with a sheet of paper attached and a pen. “He’s obviously very good.”
“Molly’s better,” I replied gruffly, taking the proffered clipboard.
She smiled smugly. “Yeah, she is.”
I filled out the paperwork while she went into a little spiel for new customers. When she finished, I handed it back, and she motioned toward a waiting area.
“Have a seat. Molly’s just finishing up. It shouldn’t be more than ten minutes.”
I nodded and walked over to a chair that gave me a view of the working area so that when I sat down, I still had eyes on Molly.
Less than a minute later, the front door opened, and two people entered the studio. The man and woman were both attractive, young—probably early twenties—and were holding hands.
“Hey, Dahlia!” the woman said brightly as she approached the desk.
“Fawn!” Dahlia smiled happily, but when the man lifted the hand he was holding to show off a sparkling diamond on his girl’s finger, she screeched and ran around the desk to hug Fawn. “You’re engaged!”
The girls laughed and hugged while the man stood back and watched his fiancée with a soft expression.
“Congratulations, Dale,” Dahlia effused, giving him a quick hug. Then she hopped back and gasped. “Does this mean…?”
Fawn rolled her eyes, but she shifted nervously on her feet. “A deal’s a deal. Do you have time to do it?”
Dahlia clapped her hands and bounced on her toes. “Of course!” Then she put her hand on Fawn’s shoulder and smiled reassuringly. “Relax, girl. You know I’ve got this.”
Fawn sighed and turned to her fiancé with narrowed eyes. “You’re still holding up our end of the deal, right?”
“Absolutely,” he assured her with a firm jerk of his chin before sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her close.
Dahlia grinned and dropped her voice as they continued talking, but their conversation still floated to my ears. I only paid it half attention because I was keeping an eye on Molly.
“Dale, do you know which piercing you're getting?” Dahlia asked. Fawn’s face flushed, and her eyes dropped to the ground, though there was an upward curve to her lips.
Dale’s cheeks turned slightly red. “Um…since I picked the VCH for Fawn, she wants…um…a Prince Albert for me.”
“And the tattoo?”
I stopped paying them any attention when Molly suddenly sat back and set her tattoo machine on the little table beside her. She cleaned up the guy’s tattoo and treated it, finally covering it with gauze. They both stood, and I was mesmerized by Molly’s graceful fluidity. And I got a little lost in the sight of her perfect ass encased in a pair of tight leather pants. Her red curls were pulled up and piled on top of her head, showing off the Silver Ink logo on the back of her black tank top.
She took off a pair of gloves and dropped them into a trash can before walking beside her client to the front. My pants were already tight from how sexy she looked from behind, but seeing her big tits, slender neck, and drop-fucking-gorgeous face made my cock hard as steel. Shifting in my seat, I did my best to hide my reaction.
“You know the drill, Buck,” she told the old guy with a smile. “I’ll tell Phyllis you didn’t cry this time.”
Buck glared at her, but there was no real menace in it, or I’d have been between them with my hand around his throat before he could take his next breath. “She wouldn’t believe you,” he finally said with a sigh, making Molly chuckle.
“Molly,” Dahlia interrupted. “Your next appointment is here.” Before Molly could turn in my direction, her sister put her hand on her arm and tipped her chin toward the couple. “Fawn and Dale are here to ‘seal the deal,’” she finished with a giggle.
Molly congratulated them with hugs, making me grit my teeth when the little punk put an arm around her. Even though it was brief and he didn’t linger.
I cleared my throat as I stood, and finally, those emerald-green orbs were trained on me once more.
“Maverick,” she breathed, eyes widening as she recognized me.
I didn’t bother to answer, just smiled and winked.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, and I cocked an eyebrow. There was only one reason I would be at Silver Ink, and she was smart enough to know what it was.
With sure strides, I closed the distance between us and grunted, “I warned you, I’d catch you, baby.”
“Molly?” Dahlia’s tone was hesitant as she looked between us. “Is everything okay? Should I call Dad?”
Molly’s head whipped toward her sister, and she groaned. “For the love of all that is holy, do not call Dad. Good grief, Dahls, I can handle my own shit.”
Her sister didn’t say anything else, but she continued to watch us closely.
“Do you know what you want?” Molly queried, watching me curiously.
“I know exactly what I fucking want, princess.”
She double blinked, then inhaled sharply. “Okay, let’s go to my station, and you can show me?—”
“Wait,” Dahlia interrupted again, making me want to put duct tape over her mouth. “You’re done for the day after…”
“Maverick,” Molly supplied when her sister paused.
“Right. Anyway, do you think you might want to stick around and do Dale’s tat?”
I repressed a sigh, getting really fucking impatient with sharing my woman’s attention, but I didn’t want to come on any stronger than I already was, so I swallowed my irritation.
“Sure. You’re still doing the same design?” Molly asked Dale.
He nodded, then grabbed the hem of his shirt and raised it, revealing far too much of a ripped stomach since his jeans were hanging around his hips. “We decided to put it here,” he said, pointing at a spot that was so low on the right side, it couldn’t have been but mere centimeters from the guy’s junk.
The weeks of frustration at not seeing her, then all this bullshit at the shop, and now this guy wanting my woman to basically ink his dick took me to the end of my rope.
“Not a fucking chance in hell,” I growled. “No fucking way am I letting you anywhere near my woman.”
Molly gasped and swung around to face me, putting her hands on her hips, looking unbelievably fuckable. “You can’t just?—”
Fuck it. I was so done with this bullshit. Before anyone realized what was happening, I bent over and put my shoulder in her stomach as I wrapped an arm around her legs.
“What are you doing?” Molly shrieked, wiggling frantically.
“NOW should I call Dad?” Dahlia yelled.
I slapped Molly’s ass and muttered, “Calm down before you hurt yourself.”
“No!” I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or Dahlia, and I didn’t give a shit. I was already headed for the door.
“I’ll deal with this,” she snapped. “Cover for me for a few days.”
I grinned since no one could see my face.
“Fine. But you better call me every freaking day to let me know you’re alive!”
I stomped out to my bike and set Molly on the back of it, caging her between my spread thighs while I dug a helmet and my leather jacket out of my saddle bag for her. Once I put them both on her, I gave her a stern look. “Stay.”
Molly opened her mouth, most likely to say something sassy that would only make me want to fuck her even more. So I captured her lips to shut her up. But I had to rip my mouth away almost immediately or the only place we’d be going was to the nearest hotel. And I didn’t want that to give Molly the wrong impression of what was happening right now.
This wasn’t a fling, a one-night stand, or any kind of temporary relationship.
I was staking my claim.