Sorry this is a day late. We had a several day power outage due to the hurricane. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: This is rough draft that I might edit to fix up or leave as is. It is Motorcycle Club Romance and will use language and terms that some will find offensive. There will be violence, foul language and wide open door sex. If you do not know the genre please read up on it before you read as it holds tropes that many people hate.
Playing with fire is dangerous, but oh so much fun.
Dozer didn’t think he had ever seen anything as gorgeous as the sight in front of him. On his way back to the Dark Sons campsite, he had heard the unmistakable sound of southern female voices shouting in anger. When he found the source of the noise, the woman he had been introduced to as Sparkles had a club slut pinned to the ground looking like a red haired avenging angel. The way her breasts had bounced when the other woman struggled under her had given him all sorts of wonderful ideas. None of which he could act on without repercussions.
At least the women had chosen a mildly isolated part of the campgrounds to have go at each other or they would have had a cheering crowd around them. He was tempted to just sit back and enjoy the show. Unfortunately both women were associated with the SoF, a club they were looking at associating with, so instead he found himself jumping to make sure nothing bad happened.
The women had stilled when he spoke but neither had moved to get up. He sighed. “Get up darlin. Don’t think your daddy would like you scrappin’ in public like this.”
The fire in Sparkle’s eyes matched the fire in her hair and Dozer had to hold back a chuckle as she shoved off the woman pinned under her. He had always loved a woman with spirit and this club Princess checked all of his boxes. As soon as her weight was off, the other woman scrambled to her feet, dirt and leaves now marring the body paint that she wore rather than actual clothing.
“She attacked me!” The woman in bodypaint whined. The club shut had her lip out and all hints of the viscous viper he had heard earlier was gone. Hell, shimmering tears were evident in her eyes. He stepped between them on the path not having the patience to deal with this shit.
Sparkles snorted and crossed her arms over her luscious cleavage. “Take your crocodile tears to someone who cares, Scarlet.”
The sweetbutt, apparently named Scarlet, put her hands on her hips and thrust out her chest. “You see how she treats me.” She gave a pouty lipped frown that Dozer thought belonged on a small child. Did this half dressed woman actually thought he was going to buy into her helpless act? He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.
Sparkles dusted dirt off her knees and Dozer admired the way her ass filled out her jeans as she bent over. “I’m sure, like me, he is all out of fucks to give.”
Scarlet looked between the two of them and must have realized no sympathy was coming her way. “I’m telling Rip!” She screeched, all hints of tears gone. Dozer fought an eye roll as she spun away, stomping back through the campground in the direction of the SoF campfire.
“You do that.” Sparkles muttered, shaking her head and straightening.
Sparkles was a mystery that pulled his interest like nothing had in a while. In his experience, the daughters of Bikers usually fell into one of two categories, the spoiled wild child looking to cause trouble at every turn, or the sheltered wall flower that ran away from the lifestyle at the first opportunity. This woman seemed more like she was made up of sass and brass without the spoiled baggage. Her Biker cut and jeans had enough rhinestones on them to do a country singer proud and she owned the look.
He enjoyed the rise and fall of her chest as she regained her control before speaking. “Thank you Dozer, but I had that under control.”
“I’m sure you did Angel.” He chuckled.
“Angel?” Her smile lit up her eyes in a way Dozer wanted to make happen over and over.
“Maybe I should call you Valkerie instead. Judger of sweetbutts. Avenging angel.”
Her laugh was open and full of abandon making him smile. She tossed her hair back and gave him an appraising look. “Well I like that name a might bit better than Sparkles.”
“I would too.”
“I don’t think anyone would ever dare call you Sparkles,” she said with a mischievous grin.
He stepped closer brushing her hair away from her face and staring down into her eyes. Dozer enjoyed the way her breath caught at the contact. “No they wouldn’t. Though I do like how they look on you, Val.” He ran a hand over the rhinestones along the neck of her cut.
Her blush was adorable and unexpected, making him want to know what she would look like in bed. He stepped back and watched her sway a bit.
She cleared her throat. “What had you wandering off from your Brothers?”
So she didn’t want to keep pushing this tension. He would play along. “They are talking business with Rip. I decided to look around. See who was here. Get the lay of the campgrounds.”
“I guess security is your thing so that makes sense.” She said as if something like that should be obvious.
“What makes you say that?”
She gestured at his chest. “Your patches say you are, or were, a Ranger and you’re the Sergeant at Arms for the Dark Sons. I figure logistics or security is your thing.”
Dozer looked down at his patches and smiled. The Sergeant at Arms was usually seen by outsiders as a brute enforcer. He often played the part of dumb muscle to throw people off. He was impressed that she saw a bigger picture. “Very observant. What about you?”
“I was just heading to settle my stuff in before looking around myself.”
“Maybe we could look around together.” It was a bad idea but damn if he couldn’t help but make the offer.
“I think I’d like that.” His Val had a grin on her face that told him she was feeling the same attraction he was.
Dozer knew he was playing with fire as he offered his arm in a playful gesture. Making moves on another club’s property could cause trouble, but what was life without a little risk?