Sofia Sol Cocker (Cocker Brothers Book 13)
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SOFIA SOL COCKER
COCKER BROTHERS BOOK 13
FALEENA HOPKINS
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Cocker EXTRAS
About the Author
Love is one wild beast.
CHARLYNE YI
CHAPTER 1
SOFIA SOL
Barely a sliver of moonlight traces over our naked bodies, entwined in a bed of overgrown grass that nobody here has time to mow. A knotted oak tree hides us all the way in the farthest reach of our enormous backyard behind the dilapidated plantation we Ciphers call home.
Our home. All of us.
Including the sweaty young hunk on top and inside of me. We’re not supposed to be locked like this. And for good reason.
So they say.
Sex is a line we’re forbidden to cross with each other. It’s not like he and I are genetically related.
We aren’t.
But we might as well be.
From my earliest memories he’s been in my life.
They all have been, those voices we can hear in the distance while Melodi cooks jambalaya for the Ciphers as they drink from ice-cold beer cans, celebrating and not noticing our absence. The laughter is riotous. After we make it home safely from a dangerous job like today’s, it’s party time. But their guffaws and back-slapping and bets would halt if they knew who was making me moan like this.
My father would lose his shit.
My mother might be worse.
I swear she was put on this planet to ride my ass.
And his dad’s biker name is after the most fearless creature in the Guinness Book of World Records. With those three at odds, if they found out we fucked, bloody fists would be inevitable. That’s part of what makes this so damn hot.
I moan as he pushes inside me, and he groans the sexiest sound a woman can hear.
We’ve obeyed their strict rule about no sex, for years. Out of respect to the structure. The elders rule the Ciphers, as they should…I guess. Hard for me to submit to any kind of authority, and I’m not alone in that. We all have that character flaw—it’s why we’re so happy here among a bunch of law-breaking bastards and bitches.
Motorcycle clubs are families of a wilder sort that no normie can understand. Some of us are joined by blood. Others by bond alone. We’d die for each other. Some of us have.
We’re just not normal.
Never will be.
Never want to be.
So how fair is it that we’re made to stay platonic? We train together every day, get sweaty, sneakily eye droplets sliding down hard muscles and ripe curves. For years!
Enter temptation.
Enter succumbing to desire.
Enter, finally, me.
My back arches under his body of rock and muscle and discipline. His cock is long, not thick, which was surprising considering how stocky Atlas is. But it feels fantastic. In the darkness we move like animals, his length stroking inside me with an urgency, aware of the time.
I peek back at the sound of my father’s laughter. “He’s not coming out here, is he?”
Atlas stops moving and cranes his neck. “Nah, they’re all in the kitchen still. Just stop moaning so loud.”
“I’ll try,” I grin, running my fingers up the cords of back muscles. “Lie to me. Say they’re coming outside.”
“They’re walking up,” he growls. “How’s that?”
“So good,” I moan, gripping him. The sizzle builds in my core, pools in my thighs, wrapping them tighter around his rock hard ass. “The forbidden, fuck I love it!”
“I knew you’d feel this good, Soph,” he growls, pulling my head back by my hair. He sucks on my extended tongue and we immediately deepen the rough kiss, the first we’ve ever shared, devouring each other. It feels a little weird, if I’m honest.
“You hear them?” I moan.
“Yeah.”
“They could come out any minute!”
He grins and pummels me. “We worked up an appetite on that mission.”
I grab his thick bottom lip, give it a nibble, and release it. “We sure did.” He serves me ten long strokes making me writhe, everything burning. Suddenly I feel his nails threaten to cut my skin. My hand flies up. I slap his face, hard. “No marks!”
He grins, challenges me, “Afraid?”
“Try that one more time and this will be the last time you fuck me. Got it?”
The wicked smile evaporates. “Won’t happen again.”
We start to move and he takes his anger out on me, fucking me with his bruised ego. I like it more than any woman should.
My breaths get ragged and I buck underneath him. “Atlas, come on, why are you holding back?”
“Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do,” he snarls, falling for my plan to get him riled up more. “You’re not the boss of me!”
Oh, but I am.
Grabbing his earlobe with my teeth I hiss, “Make me cum!”
He goes nuts.
Moaning, I crane back and bite my lip, core pulsing in thick bursts. His shaft is filled to capacity, thrilled by my challenges, cutting a memory into me that we’ll have for the rest of our lives. But I don’t want to think about that right now.
I add for good measure, “I’m your little bitch!”
“That’s fuckin’ right!” He captures my neck with his teeth. Not too hard, just a taste. He won’t leave a mark and risk never being inside me again after I warned him. “You’re my dirty little bitch. Your sweet, hot pussy, I love it. Ah fuck!” he groans as his orgasm nears.
“Martinez, don’t you dare come inside me!”
He gives the most amazing wince. “I’ve got this.” But his lip’s curled and dark eyes flash with lust and heat. “Steady,” he groans to himself, “Steady now.” He’s watching my face as I near the edge, and his changes, eyes flickering. “You’re so beautiful Sofia Sol, you know that?”
“Shut up! I don’t want to hear that shit right now.” I smack his bicep, grip it, and arch up to kiss him. “I’m close,” I whisper, “Don’t bring up sentimental bullshit and ruin it.” He digs his knees into the backs of my thighs, circling his sculpted hips, his cock begging pleasure from my body. “So close…so close…oh oh ooooooh!” My pussy tightens, clamps down on him in hot pulses, mind going numb and eyes rolling in the back of my head. “Yes!”
He grimaces, fights the urge to join me.
His inner animal is disciplined a lot more than mine is. His father taught his two sons well how to control themselves. I’ve seen it on the missions, and now I’ve had my first taste of it
in sex.
I wouldn’t have chanced this if I couldn’t bank on that control. I’ll be damned if Atlas causes a war by leaving a baby in my belly.
Because I’d keep it.
And then where would we be?
Stuck.
No, thanks.
As the throbbing wanes ever-so-slightly, the first signs that I’m coming down, I shove him off of me. Atlas reacts with shock, until I dive and take his cock in my mouth to finish him. Sucking and licking his slippery length, I taste myself and love every second of it. It’s meant to be this good. It’s supposed to be dirty. It’s supposed to be fucked up.
To drive him absolutely insane, I cup his tender sack and press on the skin just behind it. Poor guy has to bite his arm to stop from roaring as hot semen shoots between my lips in thick pulses. I tease the intensity of his orgasm to lengthen it as long as I possibly can. It only ends for guys quickly when they’re in their heads, think you don’t enjoy it, or when they don’t give a shit about you. But I’m a woman who loves to get men off, and that trait will melt even the most jaded male.
On the road I’ve taken more lovers than I can count. I’ve also lost track of how many have cried when I casually announced I was moving on. They didn’t bawl or beg because they particularly liked my company. I’m not easy to spend time with. I’ll tell you my opinion even if you don’t want it. My standards are high, but unpredictable. Some things matter very much to me, and other things that might to another woman, don’t. But you never know which until I make it really fucking clear.
I’ve been called a bitch, a whore, a cunt, a demon, the devil incarnate, insane, dangerous, fucking crazy, out of my damn mind, and once…a sociopath. That’s the only one I argued with because it was so far from the truth that it pissed me off. Sociopaths don’t feel anything. They don’t experience other people’s pain. They’re the serial killers of the world whether they’re actually taking lives, or just emotionally and spiritually killing people for the sick fun of it.
I’m not a sociopath in even one cell of my being. I feel more than I want to, and I fight for those who can’t fight for themselves. We all do here. You’re not a Cipher if you don’t give a shit.
“Sofia!” my mother calls from the house. “Dinner!”
I’ve just eaten, thanks.
CHAPTER 2
SOFIA SOL
T he back screen door clatters behind me as I walk into the Ciphers’ kitchen, alone, bearing no signs of the secret we gave birth to. It won’t come crying into the world in nine months but it, too, will last a lifetime.
My mother glances over, her dark beauty shimmering even in her older years. Sophia Loren had nothing on Luna Cocker. Raquel Welch maybe could compare. Mom’s been likened to Penelope Cruz more times than she cares to know about. To me all of those old screen beauties don’t hold a candle to the fire that blazes from this woman’s heart after all the good she’s done for a society who doesn’t even know she exists.
But she can be a real bitch sometimes.
“You didn’t hear me call, or were you just ignoring me?” she demands, fists propped on her hips.
“I’m not wearing a leash, am I? Give me a fuckin’ break.” I mount a stool beside the industrial-sized kitchen island so I can eye the ravaged platters better. “Looks like you all did fine without me.”
My father ambles in, huge shoulders swaying as he smacks Mom’s ass, throws his arm around her and kisses her grey-streaked, long black hair. It shuts her up for a second, and he takes over, locking onto my matching grey eyes that he passed down to me, his sharp as he barks, “Talk to your mother like that, and I’ll take your bike apart and hide the pieces.”
A half-grin tugs at my mouth. “Fine.”
Removing herself from his side to come face me, her nostrils flare. I feel my heart quicken as she nears. Even as an adult she’s the only person who makes me nervous. I care way too much about what Luna Cocker thinks. “Lose the smirk. Don’t let your father’s charm make you forget who is boss around here. He is. Show respect to him and to me, or I’ll make him follow through with that threat and you won’t join us on the next mission, understood?”
My eyes widen.
She hit me where it hurts.
I live for our work. Just like she does.
“I’m sorry.”
“Where were you?”
“Taking a walk.”
Her dark eyelashes narrow. “You smell like sex.”
My lips part, and I flick a worried glance to Dad. The look on his face is horrible. He had no idea that was a possible reason for my absence…and now he’s ready to kill.
I mumble, “Just one of the neighbor’s ranch hands. I was celebrating.”
But Ciphers tsunami into the room, changing the air in an instant with loud laughter and shouts of victory. It appears that Honey Badger, Atlas’ father, just got his ass handed to him in a pool game by Tonk.
Before Dad can demand a name, Honey Badger smacks his shoulder. “You lost fifty bucks, Jett.”
Dad digs out his tattered-by-time, brown leather wallet, then embeds two twenties and a ten into Tonk’s chest with a hard slap. “How the fuck did ya beat the Badge?” He looks over, finally letting me out of jail. My father can stare harder than any man I’ve ever met.
Tonk grins, “He scratched the eight ball!” while his wife, Carmen, beams at him like he invented the game. He wraps an arm around her and plants a quick, rough kiss to those smiling lips of hers. Nobody here is as sickeningly sweet as those two. My best friend, Celia, was born from a love so true and filled with gratitude I’ve never heard her parents argue once. Her brother Tonk Jr. is a sad disappointment, however. Not sure how they’re even related. Barely even look alike.
Scythe’s deep baritone chortles as he razzes Honey Badger, “You cleared the table, then scratched the eight ball next shot!”
“Yeah yeah yeah.”
“That’s like riding to—”
“Ah shut up!”
Fuse grabbed a chicken wing while they were going on, and he waves it. “I miss Scratch. Gotta give him a call. Last I heard he had the flu, anyone know if he got better? Wife, you call Mona and check on that?”
“I did,” Melodi nods, wringing a rag out and tossing it by the sink. “He came out of it okay, but she was worried there for a second. He’s no spring chicken.”
“Winter chicken is more like it.”
Dad points at me to demand the name of who I messed around with, but again he’s interrupted. This time by Meg as she hurries into the room with Denita by her side. “Jett, the police are coming up the drive!” She looks at her husband, Honey Badger, who she always calls by his birth name. “Antonio, it’s the same ones who pulled us over last Monday.”
Denita tells her husband, Scythe, both dark as the sky at midnight, “I checked to see if either one of them was that racist bastard we ran into last month, but it’s not.”
We’re a wide range of colors in this house, and never give it any thought until we’re faced with some idiot who hasn’t learned that judging someone by the color of their skin is just plain odd.
Skin color you have no control over.
And really who gives a fuck about things you have no control over?
In this house we judge people by their actions, and how they treat other people. That’s what people can control.
When someone acts like an asshole, it’s by choice. That deserves my judgment.
Curious and wary, the older crew barrels out of the kitchen, all behind my father, Ciphers President. The women go last, and not because we’re weak. We’re not. But it’s a fact of nature that men need to protect women in order to feel like men, and we like them that way. Mom taught me this when I was a young girl.
CHAPTER 3
SOFIA SOL
“J ett, did you hear that?”
Dad snatched his gun from atop the motel nightstand and leapt from bed in sweatpants and nothing else, ears perked, grey eyes alert. In a hushed voice he told Mom,
“Let’s check it out.”
She threw the thin comforter off her, wearing a black tank top and matching pajama shorts, strong legs walking to her gun in the saddlebags that sat on the old carpet between our double beds as I watched, sitting up, age twelve and itching to get into the action.
There’d been weird footsteps. I’d heard them and whispered to Mom, found her awake, having caught the strange sound, too. It was like someone was dragging something past our door, and it was struggling, with muffled gurgles.
But what I didn’t understand is why the hell she didn’t just go and check it out herself. Ask him to follow, sure, but she was more than capable to lead the way. She could take down anyone. I’d seen her. She was my role model, so fierce.
Dad silently, expertly, opened the door and angled his head to peer outside. Mom was behind him and my shoulders slumped in an impatient exhale. I climbed out of the bed and she gave me a warning look, pointing to the bed and mouthing, no!
I climbed back in. I knew there was no way I’d sneak by her. Dad nodded to her that it was time to sneak out after the noise-maker. They left the door cracked because closing it might alert the guy they were coming.
In my long nightgown I tiptoed over, jumping in my skin when I heard a scuffle and grunting. Despite the fact that Mom would kill me if she knew I was here, I looked out. Under flickering lights in a desolate parking lot Dad had a big guy pinned, punching him cold while Mom pulled a gag off the man he was dragging, and I recognized him as the clerk who’d checked us into the motel. Gasping for air, he thanked her, eyes filled with terror and relief as they swung to his assailant.
Two doors opened on either side of ours. Tonk exploded out of one, Carmen peeking from the safety of the door. I knew Celia was in bed. With her mother there, she couldn’t do what I was.
The other was Honey Badger, gun drawn.
We were out in the middle of nowhere at one of those shit-holes where the neon sign is from the 50’s and whoever chose the color palettes was blind.
Luke, Honey Badger’s oldest boy, but younger than I was by a couple years, stuck his head and scrawny shoulders out of his room, and we locked eyes. I held my fingers to my lips with a silent shhh. He nodded and ignored his mom as Meg urged him to get back inside, her soft voice worried.