Claimed by The Biker: The Primal Howlers MC Collection

Claimed by The Biker: The Primal Howlers MC Collection

Piper Davenport · Completed · 417.1k Words

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Introduction

"Don't call her a bitch, asshole," Sierra hissed.
"What's it got to do with you?" the greasy creep demanded.
"Oh, I don't know, Stimpy, maybe because you're harassing my woman and she just got here."
"Oh, shit, Orion. Sorry, man. Didn't realize she was with you."
Orion: As the heir apparent to the Primal Howlers' MC President patch, a chance encounter with a beautiful woman pulls me into a war I wasn't expecting that could bring the whole club down. But when she runs from me, I will pursue her to the end of the earth to find her and bring her back.
Whether she likes it or not.
Raquel: I moved to Monument, Colorado to write my thesis and get some much-needed distance from my overbearing family. What I didn't expect was to find myself hung up on a biker who appears to have nothing to lose.
I, however, have everything to lose and I'm worried Orion just might be my downfall.

Chapter 1

Orion

I'm the oldest son of MC royalty. My father founded the Primal Howlers and he expects me to wear his patch one day. The problem is, I don't know if that's what I want. Lately, I couldn't give two shits about anything.

Until her.

Raquel

I moved to Monument, Colorado to write my thesis and get some much-needed distance from my overbearing family. What I didn't expect was to find myself hung up on a biker who appears to have nothing to lose.

I, however, have everything to lose and I'm worried Orion just might be my downfall.

Raquel

About two months ago...

"Are you ready?" Sierra, my best friend and roommate, bellowed up the stairs of the townhouse we shared.

"Give me a sec!" I called back as I unplugged my curling iron, hearing her footsteps as she rushed upstairs.

She peeked her head into my bathroom. "Come on, slowpoke. I want to get my drink on."

I chuckled. "Keep your panties on, I'm coming."

"I'm not wearing panties."

"Gross, Sierra, I did not need to know that."

My bestie wore a black leather mini skirt, knee-high boots, and a tight pink, deep V-neck t-shirt that hugged every curve. I was dressed a little more conservatively in a pair of dark skinny jeans, knee-high boots, and a Harley-Davidson t-shirt that hid my squishy bits nicely.

We were heading to Smiley's in Colorado Springs, a notorious biker bar on the edge of town. My brother happened to be the president of the Dogs of Fire MC in Savannah, so I was pretty familiar with the establishment and who frequented it. The building welcomed everyone, and it was considered sacred, neutral ground, so the bikers tended to behave themselves.

"I'm hoping to find me a sexy biker to fuck me against the wall," Sierra said.

"Sierra!" I admonished. "You promised you'd be good."

She grinned. "Oh, I plan to be."

I rolled my eyes. "Good lord, woman, behave."

"No. What does your brother say?"

"Well behaved women don't get shit done," I said, sliding lipgloss onto my lips.

She sighed. "I wish Tristan was single."

I smiled. "A lot of people do."

Tristan was my older, half-brother. His father had married my mother a few years after his first wife, Tristan's mom, died. I was just as close, if not closer, to him than my full-blooded younger brothers, and he was often my rock when I needed someone to lean on.

"Are you sure he's committed to Olivia?"

I laughed. "Honey, not even Liv can run from Tristan, and believe me, she's tried. He is totally devoted to her."

Sierra sighed. "I want a man like that."

"You'll find one," I said.

"Brando's legal now, right?" she asked.

"If you mean, legal to drink, yes. He's twenty-one."

"Corwin's prettier though."

"Down tiger, he's only nineteen."

"Damn," she hissed, and I smiled.

Both my baby brothers were already heartbreakers, but she was right. Corwin had model good looks, where Brando was more rugged. But, really, the difference was whether you liked Ashton Kutcher more than Channing Tatum. Corwin was lean and tall, whereas Brando was still tall but built like a brick shithouse.

"Does Tristan know you're going to Smiley's without 'protection'?" she asked.

"He won't care."

"That's a no," she retorted.

"I'm twenty-four years old, I don't need to tell my brother anything."

"Um, okay, sure, we can play it that way," she said. "If he finds out, though, I'm playing dumb."

"It's fine. I know Smiley. He'll watch out for us." I faced her again. "I'm ready."

"Good. I already called for a car."

We headed outside and the ride share was already waiting for us. The bar wasn't far, but the driver still wasn't sure about leaving us. "This is rough place," he said in broken English.

"We've been here before," I said, pushing open my door. "Thanks, though."

Sierra followed me out and we walked inside, met at the door by a giant of a man.

"IDs." We handed our IDs to him, then he glanced at us, handing them back. "You sure you're in the right place?"

I smiled. "We're good."

"You run into issues, you let me know."

"Okay, thanks."

Moving through the crowd, we sidled up to the bar and Smiley walked over to us. "Hey, beautiful."

"Hey, Smiley," I said.

"Does Doc know you're here?" he asked.

"What's with everyone thinking I need to tell Doc everything?"

He smirked. "Well, you be careful."

"We will," I promised.

"What can I get you?"

"Shots," I said. "Patrón, please."

"Put it on my tab," a guy from our left said. He was creepy looking, his slicked back hair giving him a greasy look, and I planned to stay as far away as possible.

"No, that's okay," I said.

"I insist."

I sighed. "I appreciate it, but it's really okay."

"Bitch—"

"Don't call her a bitch, asshole," Sierra hissed.

"There a problem here?" a tall, sexy as fuck biker asked. He had his arms crossed, so I couldn't see the patch on his cut, but it could say Satan's Devils and I wouldn't care. Lordy, he was pretty. Blond hair, a little longer on top, fell onto his forehead and drew focus to his eyes, which were almost an ice blue. He had a full beard and I ached to run my fingers through it.

"What's it got to do with you?" Greasy demanded.

"Oh, I don't know, Stimpy, maybe because you're harassing my woman and she just got here."

"Oh, shit, Orion. Sorry, man. Didn't realize she was with you." Stimpy raised his hands and walked away.

Orion focused on me. "You good?"

"Yes. But you didn't need to do that."

Sierra leaned in close and without looking at her, I knew she was swooning.

"I know your brother, Raquel, I did need to do that," he said.

I forced myself not to react. "My brother?"

He smiled and I nearly lost my mind...and my panties.

"Doc," he said. "You know, the president of the Dogs of Fire, Savannah."

"How could you possibly know Doc's my brother?" I asked. "I've never met you."

He leaned against the bar, now fully facing me and I craned my head to look up at him.

"My old man's the president of the Primal Howlers. I've known your brother for a while."

Of course he had.

"Yum," Sierra breathed out, for my ears only.

Orion pulled out his phone and swiped his finger over the screen. "I've got a picture of you from your Christmas party last year. I never forget a face." Handing me the phone, I saw the photo from the charity event the club put on every year, handing out presents to the foster kids in the area. I was standing beside my brother and laughing. I think he'd made some inappropriate joke right before the picture was snapped. "Plus, you look a lot alike."

I frowned. "Translation: Doc sent you this to keep an eye on me."

He slid his phone back in his pocket. "I plead the fifth."

"I've been here several times and I know Smiley well, so how come I've never seen you?"

"Because I didn't want you to see me."

I narrowed my eyes. "Have you been stalking me?"

"You can stalk me," Sierra said. "Anytime."

Orion grinned at her. "I'll keep that in mind."

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