by Hazel Parker
Table of Contents
The First Book of my MC Biker Collection
Keep in touch, stay luscious gorgeous!
Gratitude right here my friend!!
Cooper
Teaser of Her First, Her Boss
Bonus Stuff!!!
More Steamy Stuff Right Here
Check out my other books!
Spoil your Sweet Spot…
[SBM1]
Copyright 2018 by Hazel Parker - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Cooper
Full Throttle Series
By: Hazel Parker
Tables of Contents
Keep in touch, stay luscious gorgeous!
Gratitude right here my friend!!
Cooper
Teaser of Her First, Her Boss
Bonus Stuff!!!
The First Book of my MC Biker Collection
More Steamy Stuff Right Here
Check out my other books!
Spoil your Sweet Spot…
Keep in touch, stay luscious gorgeous!
Do you love bad boys? Alphas? Billionaires? Bikers? Mountain Men? Older Men? Military? ‘Cause I got ‘em all baby (or they’re on their way)!!! Click here to join my newsletter and get an instant freebie delivered to your inbox. Then wait your gorgeous little self for the goodness to keep rolling in.
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The price is right, trust me ;)
You will ALSO find my MC Biker Romance book collection in the table of contents. The 1st book free just for you. Because I adore you!
Gratitude right here my friend!!
THANKS A MILLION!!!!
Indie Authors fight their way to try to keep up with the big wigs! It’s a daily struggle and I could not do it with my amazing ARC team. Their expertise in the reading of hot smutty books industry should never be undervalued!! You guys are seriously the foundation for every single book. Couldn’t be done without you.
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Hazel
Cooper
CHAPTER ONE
SARA
The water helped calm my mind—at least, as calm as it can be. I was always like that when it came to water, and I couldn’t exactly explain it. I let my arms guide my movements, sliding in the water stroke for stroke. That sound of being under water. If you can call it a sound? I let my feet follow as the gentle swimming motion encompassed me completely, erasing all my stress and worry that had been plaguing me for lord knows how long.
An hour ago, the worried thoughts were endless, making for a clouded mind and a headache that I really didn’t want to deal with. Swimming was my go to in times like these, and now I had to say it was the best decision I made for myself this morning as the chatter vanished, replaced by a peaceful feeling. It was still early in the morning, which meant I had plenty of time to spare before I got on with my day.
It was only when my arms were burning that I finally stopped, realizing I already had more than enough laps to last me a day. I got out of the swimming pool feeling refreshed. Most importantly, the headache was completely gone, making way for a clearer mind and better feelings.
I decided to do something fun next: cooking myself breakfast. I wasn’t a very adventurous cook to begin with, but I was hankering for some eggs and sausages, along with some buttered toast. We used to have a chef at home, but since my kids had all gone to college, I decided that I should cook for myself and not waste my money. My first few times cooking involved charred food, which set the smoke alarms to screaming and had me panicking more than was necessary.
I was a bit more accomplished now. A bit. The eggs were pretty much burnt and the sausages were just a tiny bit charred on the sides.
Fine. So I couldn’t really cook. I was still pretty proud of myself for trying.
I ate everything with gusto, sitting at the kitchen counter and looking at the view of the house’s back garden. Quiet mornings in this house were the best—at the same time, it was when loneliness crept in and settled in my bones: something that I tried to ignore as I determinedly sipped on my hot cup of coffee. Years ago, I had children running around here and creating chaos, as well as a husband I needed to take care of before I could have some me time. Now, the children were doing adulthood, and my husband was gone.
“Happy anniversary, Gary,” I whispered in the air.
Then I cleaned the kitchen up, went off to shower, and got out of the house to buy some flowers.
*****
It had been five years since Gary died of cancer. He had been my sweetheart when I was in college, and he had already been making his mark in his field, and we’d gotten married the moment I got pregnant at eighteen. It should have been the end of my studies, but it had made me more determined to make it. We prospered together and loved each other dearly, then had a second baby that was just as much a joy as the first one. Gary had been a good father to the kids, and a good husband to me, providing me with all my needs and generally being an all-around good man. Whatever passion we had from college had simmered down to respect and a tender kind of love, and I thought it would be that way until we grew old.
An image of Gary in the hospital, with tubes all around him and in deep pain, flashed in my mind. I shook it off and knelt down in front of his gravestone. The flowers were purple and red, his favorite colors.
Cancer had a way of wearing you down, even if you weren’t the one riddled with it. Even if the memory was now faint, I could still remember how painful it had been to watch Gary as he struggled at home, barely able to walk or do the most menial tasks by himself. I’d made sure to be strong for him, but I was human, too. The first time I broke down and cried in front of him, he’d cried, too, telling me how sorry he was for giving me this kind of life. It had made me feel so guilty that I’d never broken down in front of him again, keeping it to myself and only crying when I was alone. It helped because Gary needed a pillar who would be calm and strong for him, not a bumbling mess.
“Hey, Gary,” I said softly. “Five years today my Love. Crazy. I miss you so much. We miss you but we are okay. With the kids in college I have the house all to myself. I even cooked breakfast for myself and didn’t burn the house down. Yay, right?”
Gary had always teased me about my cooking skills. Then he’d hired a chef for us, and I never had to think about cooking again. He was a problem solver, but during the years he had cancer, he became the helpless one who couldn’t do anything but watch me take care of him. In the end I knew he just didn’t want to live like that anymore, and so it had been a relief when he took his last breath and he could finally rest in peace.
The kids had been heartbroken, we all were.
The thought of them had me missing them, and I decided to call my eldest kid while I was driving. Christopher was twenty one and one of the most int
ense people I knew, which was why law had been a good choice for him.
“Hey, mom.”
“Hey, Chris,” I greeted him warmly, the sound of his voice making me miss him even more. “Is this a good time to call? Do you have classes?”
“I don’t have class until later, but I need to go to the library to study. I do have time to spare, mom. What’s up?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
At the moment, he was top of the class and striving hard to go even higher. He didn’t call often, but when he did, he usually had good things to say about his studies. It never failed to make me proud, and I was proud now as he detailed how his article for a defense case that was going to be printed out as a sample for future classes.
I eventually broached the topic of Thanksgiving, asking if he could come home. I wasn’t surprised when he said he couldn’t and needed to use the time for studying, but that didn’t stop the disappointment. Still, I kept it in and did my best to be supportive, knowing he just wanted to be a man his father would be proud of. We hung up on a positive note, and I promised him I would send over some food to keep him stocked up.
As I approached my driveway, I called my second child right away—my daughter Carla, who was studying at another university and taking a creative arts course. She answered on the third ring, and the sound of her bubbly, cheerful voice had me grinning already.
“Mom! I miss you, mom! Hold up, let me find a quiet place,” she said over the din of noises I could hear in the background. It died down after a few seconds, and she was back on the line. “Okay, I can hear you better now. How are you?”
While Christopher was the intense one, Carla was the happy-go-lucky child who never failed to amuse everyone with her antics. We all doted on her, and I remembered how hard it had been to see her break down and when Gary died. It had taken some of the sparkle from her eyes, but five years was a long time, and I had been so relieved to see it come back little by little as time went on. Now, she was back to her old cheerful self and had graduated a year early from high school. I was surprised when she decided to go to art school, but the girl always did have a creative streak inside her, and I guess that won over now.
Like Christopher, she couldn’t come home for Thanksgiving due to a project she had to finish, but she did promise she’d be here during Christmas. I held on to that promise and wished her luck. When she hung up, I stared at the front of my house, which was full of lush vegetation. While I got rid of the chef to cook on my own, I couldn’t tend to the huge gardens by myself so I kept my yard maintenance staff on.
I knew I should be in my home office, tending to business. While I was no longer a very active CEO and had a great team of staff and board members, I still did some of the managing myself and even visited the head office most days. But today, I didn’t want to enter either office.
There was one thing that made me feel a little less lonely once my husband had passed away—going to the race tracks and watching race car drivers compete. I’d watched it on television because Gary was always a fan. While I’d been nursing myself through one of my heavy grief bouts I had spontaneously decided to go and watch it live. It had been one of the most thrilling things I’d ever seen in my life and it literally pulled me out of my haze and back into life. Just recently, I’d gone from being a fan and avid supporter to being the manager of one of the best race car drivers in this generation: Gray Denton. I had money and was always looking how to make it grow. Gray seemed like a good bet. He had started off as a womanizer with an arrogant streak in him and a flair for being a daredevil, but discovering the love of his life had tamed him a little bit. He’d been mismanaged by his previous manager and car sponsor, but I’d decided to take the risk and ask him to be my race car driver. Now, months later, it all paid off as he went on to win race after race and raked in more money for me. But more than that, managing him had heightened my passion for the sport.
I was pretty sure he was at the race track today practicing. Realizing that my intention earlier had been to get to the track, I turned the ignition on again and headed out.
CHAPTER TWO
COOPER
“Hey, mister, can I have your autograph?”
I smiled at the young girl who directed the question at me, watching her hold out a pen and girlie notebook and thinking she had to be the most adorable little thing I’d ever seen. I always had a soft spot for children, and this one was no exception. I knelt down to her level and took her book.
“What’s your name, sweetheart? And how did you get inside the race track?”
We were standing by the bleachers, which were currently empty except for some known bystanders, like managers and crew members who were around to watch practice. No one seemed to notice the little girl, which had me wondering who on earth she was with. She had to be around ten.
“My name’s Jenny, and I want to watch you drive. I came here with my sister. She’s using the bathroom.”
I was about to ask her where her mom was when Jenny’s name was suddenly called out behind me by a soft, feminine voice. A few seconds later, heels sounded on the pavement, and I stood up in time to watch a tall brunette walking over to us. She looked a bit like Jenny, but a prettier version with the slickest curves in a red dress. She offered me a very flirty smile, and almost immediately, I realized why a little kid like Jenny was here at the racetrack when she should be at home playing.
Still, I decided to be polite and smiled back.
“Hi,” the woman said breathlessly. “I see you’ve met my sister. I’m Charlotte. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, too,” I replied, holding out a hand. She took it enthusiastically and prolonged the handshake. “I’m Cooper.”
“I know you’re Cooper,” she said. “I’ve been a massive fan of your work for so long. Would you mind if we watched you practice for a little bit?”
“I won’t practice for about an hour.”
“That’s okay,” she cooed. “We’ll wait.”
I smiled again and nodded, telling her that of course it was alright. At least she wasn’t a crazed bunny—aka slightly obsessed fans that like to party and get it on. I remembered partaking in those pleasures when I was in my younger years, right before I realized that they dropped you faster than a hot pile of coal as soon as someone newer and hotter came along that they wanted to bone. It was all about collecting to them, and I’d been pretty selective ever since.
I was a flirt by nature, though—something I could admit and didn’t really want to change. So I let myself flirt with Charlotte, getting into it, although I couldn’t say I was really that attracted to her. It was more for fun, and the way her eyes lit up and her cheeks turned pink when I mentioned how pretty she looked in her dress was charming. I paid attention to Jenny, too, who was a good co-pilot to her older sister.
When Charlotte looked like she was getting impatient over the non-escalation of the flirting and was about to ask me out, I decided to cut the conversation short and told her to have a good day and get some ice cream for Jenny later. She looked disappointed but didn’t press the issue, and I couldn’t resist winking at the little girl before striding off towards the garage where my orange race car was.
I’d always liked the color orange because it reminded me of the sunset back in my Texan home, which I missed a lot more than I cared to admit. Hell, I missed everything that wasn’t Texan, and being in Florida, where everything was unfamiliar, had been the loneliest feeling in the beginning. I’ve gotten used to it over time though I still couldn’t wait to get home when I was less busy and could get back to the Ranch. It was an odd feeling being here. Like I was someone totally different. My full name is Doug Cooper Oliver but after being here a while I decided Cooper was how I would market myself. Felt right but adds to distance from home.
It was only me for today without my crew, and I gave the car a once-over before standing at the garage entrance and just watching anothe
r car speed down the race track. It was Gray Denton’s practice, and watching the guy do it so smoothly sent my admiration up. He was one of the best racers around, having just won the prestigious Monster Cup last year. His biggest sports rival, Scott McCall, won the other most prestigious race last year: the Daytona 500. I was casual friends with both of them, but I didn’t think they saw me as competition—at least, not the biggest one and not yet. I was planning to change all that this year, I’ve been making small wins and they will lead to bigger ones. It is my intention to maintain that momentum.
My father always thought I’d be managing the ranch when I was old enough and inheriting his love for the land and horses. Don’t get me wrong: I loved them and thought horses were the best creatures there were, still do. But racing was one of the few things that got my blood pumping, sometimes even more than sex—and before I knew it, it was no longer just my hobby but a passion and career that I wanted to last for a long time. My parents were awesome and supported me. They never asked me to stay in Texas, so when they saw where my passion was headed, they’d gone ahead and sold a portion of their land to buy me a race car and support me at the beginning of my career. Now, I was earning enough through winnings and endorsements, and I did my best to make them proud. Someday I will write them a big fat check.
I often wondered what stories the other race car drivers had and how they got started out. It is not a typical passion so it’s interesting to hear how successful drivers get here, to this point. While winning was fine and all, it was mostly about the race itself for me—the thrill, the excitement, the adrenaline rush that just flowed through my body and made me forget everything else existed but the road ahead of me. I knew Gray didn’t have it easy with his old manager, but he seemed pretty happy with the one he had now—not to mention the wife he married even after all the scandals that broke about him last year.
