Steel Cobras MC Complete Box Set: Books 1-6

by Evie Monroe

  “Better, now. Said you couldn’t stay away.”

  She smiled in a way that was almost devious and crept into the room, closer to me. It had to be late. The guy behind the curtain must’ve finally gone off to sleep, and I couldn’t hear the nurses’ voices out in the corridor. All I heard was the monitor, steadily beeping to the beat of my heart. It sped up as she came to the edge of my bed and sat on the edge of it. “I couldn’t. I’ve been thinking about what you said, Jet.”

  She gnawed on her lip, and it got me, right in the cock. I felt it hardening as I managed, “And what was that?”

  “About you wanting to be inside me. You’re right. I want it. So much.”

  With that, she reached for the collar of her coat, and pulled it open, baring the most gorgeous set of tits I’d ever seen. My mouth opened. Her nipples were hard for me, and as she shrugged the coat all the way down, slipped her arms out, and tossed her sexy dark hair, I realized she was completely naked under the buttoned-up, professional coat of hers.

  Holy fuck. How the fuck had she gone down the hallway, wearing nothing but that coat?

  My heart rate was steadily speeding up now on the monitor. I moved myself up to sitting as I gazed hungrily at her pink nipples, which were begging to be sucked.

  “Well?” she asked, leaning over and kissing my cheek. As she did, her hand wandered under the sheet, carefully avoiding the bandage and sliding her fingers around my already-stiff cock. “Can I have that ride?”

  I nodded dumbly as she hovered over my face. She smelled incredible. Lickable, like an ice cream sundae. My hand reached out and took hold of her tit, cupping it. I ran a thumb over the rock-hard nipple. “Fuck, yes.”

  She tugged down the sheet, dropped a knee on the mattress, and threw her leg over my hips, hovering over my cock. She licked her lips, lifted my dick, and positioned it at her pretty little pussy. The heat coming off her body was like an inferno. Yes, fuck, yes. I gritted my teeth, waiting for her to slide her warm body down onto my length. The monitor was now a steady scream. I gripped her hips, and then—

  “Jet! Hey, Jet!” Someone was whispering. It sounded like Nix’s voice. Then instead of sliding into warm, wet paradise, I got a hard slap across the face.

  My eyes flew open, and I faced my brother.

  Fuck.

  I looked around for my sexy surgeon, then I looked down at myself and realized with a sinking feeling that it was nothing but a dream. Almost a wet dream. The only memory I had of that was a raging hard-on, tenting the sheet. “What,” I mumbled, pulling the covers over myself and reaching for my phone. “What time is—”

  “It’s late. Look. I ain’t supposed to be in here. I snuck in. I wanted to let you know . . .”

  I was fully awake now. Something was wrong. Nix wouldn’t be here otherwise. “What? Is it the Fury?”

  “Yeah. The word was they were looking for Slade and getting suspicious. So we put out the word that he ain’t dead,” he whispered. “Our official story is that he ran away after the shootout, and we got no idea where he is. We think it’ll buy us some time to get our shit together. Okay?”

  It only made me more restless to get out of this bed. I shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “But I don’t know if that matters,” he added, pacing next to my bed. “Word on the street is that they’re restless and out for blood. They’re liable to hurt us just for burning down their clubhouse. And that means you. You’re a sitting duck here. If they find out you’re in the hospital, they won’t be sending you Get Well balloons, you hear what I’m saying?”

  I kicked off my covers. “Loud and clear. Then let’s go.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You think you can?”

  I lifted myself up onto my elbows and fell back down. The medication made my head swim. “On second thought . . .” I gripped my stomach and felt the pinch from my IV and heart monitor lines reminding me I wasn’t a free man. “I don’t know. Probably ain’t the best idea. That prick doctor said something about a blockage or some shit like that.”

  Nix nodded. “All right. Rest. We’ll do our best to keep them off you. Just get your ass better quick. So we can get you out of here. Got it?”

  “Yeah.”

  He messed my hair like he always did. “Okay. See you, kid.”

  He went to the door, looked both ways, and silently slipped out.

  My head fell back, and I stared at the ceiling. Whatever painkillers they’d given me the day before were wearing off. I needed something else. Yeah, it wasn’t a good idea to be here any longer than I absolutely had to be. But right now, I had to be here.

  I closed my eyes and tried to find my way back to my dream with Nora, but all I could think of was Fury flames. Staying in the hospital was dancing too close to their fire.

  Chapter Seven

  Nora

  When I left Jetson, I definitely needed to cool down.

  I shouldn’t have gone there. I knew I was begging for trouble, but I couldn’t help it. My heart was beating out of my chest. I ran to the locker room, intent on getting my things, booking it home, and crashing on the couch, boxes-be-damned.

  But when I thought about going back to that empty house alone, I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, no matter how tired I was. I was too wound up. Jet had wound me up tighter than a drum, and now my head was spinning.

  I decided to work my frustrations out at the hospital fitness center. It was one of the many things that I’d gotten jazzed about when Michael had first told me about ABRH. He’d mentioned it as an afterthought because exercise to him was climbing the stairs instead of taking an elevator. But I’d always loved running. I never did it competitively in school; it was something I just liked to do to clear my head when I had a big test coming up or a stressful week. I changed into my sports bra, t-shirt, and workout capris, went down to the basement and ran a 5k on the treadmill. By the time I’d reached cool-down, I’d made a decision.

  I needed to stay out of Jetson Nash’s hospital room.

  It wouldn’t be hard. There were plenty of other doctors to take over his case, other surgeons on the team, and the nurses would take care of the majority of his needs. If he asked for me, I’d simply say I was too busy.

  I sighed with some regret as I climbed the stairs back to the ground floor. It made sense. I convinced myself that I wasn’t attracted to him—not at all. He was simply so different from Michael that I’d been fascinated. That was all. And he was altogether too flirtatious, which was distracting. I didn’t need him messing with my ambitions to become department head, especially during my first week on staff.

  This was for the best.

  I thought that, up until I made it to the lobby and saw two men in leather jackets. These weren’t the same as the men who’d come to see Jetson before. They looked big and mean. Not only that, I knew something about the men’s kuttes. My father had been a member of Devil’s Army, and he’d had devil horns tattooed on his bicep. The back of this guy’s kutte had flames on it.

  They were from a different gang. Had to be a rival gang.

  Maybe the same one that had shot Jet?

  I checked my watch. It was after ten. Visiting hours were over. I could think of only one reason why they’d be lurking around this late at night: to finish the job.

  I approached them cautiously. “I’m sorry. Visiting hours are over. Can I help you?”

  They gave me a look that said, And who the hell are you? I realized I wasn’t wearing my badge.

  I reached into my bag and pulled out my identification lanyard, holding it up to them. “I’m Dr. Benson. Are you looking for someone?”

  A guy with spiky silver hair and a mouth full of bad teeth grinned at me. “You’re a doctor? Shit, I’m getting old.”

  The other man, who had to be almost three-hundred pounds, chewed on a toothpick. “Yeah. We’re looking for someone named Jet Nash. He here?”

  Oh, no. It was just as I thought. I quickly shook my head. “No, I’m sorry, that name doesn’t—”
<
br />   “Actually,” my blood went cold as I heard the voice. A nurse behind the check-in desk was typing into a computer. “He is. He’s on the fifth floor.”

  I whipped my head around to stare at her. What a fucking idiot. She continued to type into the computer, unaware of my eye-daggers. “Yes,” I ground out. “But I’m his surgeon, and he’s not allowed visitors because his condition is critical. Maybe tomorrow.”

  The men studied me carefully. The fat guy pulled the toothpick from between his big lips. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yes,” I said, breathing hard, half-expecting them to pull out guns or something and demand to see him. When they backed toward the door, I looked over at the nurse. “Please make that notification in the file. No visitors for Mr. Nash.”

  “Yes, right away, Doctor.” She typed away at her computer.

  I turned back to them and walked them toward the revolving door. “Sorry, fellas,” I said as brightly as I could. “If you’d like, you can leave a name and number, and we’ll tell Mr. Nash you came to see him.”

  I didn’t expect them to go for that, and I was right. One of them muttered a curse under his breath. Then they turned and pushed out the door without another word to me.

  I turned around and looked at the nurse, shaking. I knew I had to do something, but I couldn’t think of what. Those men didn’t seem like the type to wait for a doctor to give them the all-clear to get to their target. I knew their type. They’d look for another way in. A back entrance. The loading docks. Something.

  Jet wasn’t safe.

  I needed to get him out of here.

  The nurse slowly rose to her feet. “Are you all right?”

  I tried to act nonchalant, in control. “Yes, fine,” I said, heading back for the elevators. “Can you call the police and give them the descriptions of those two men? Tell them we want to make sure they don’t loiter around.”

  She gave me a confused look. “You think they’re trouble?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied.

  I went up to the fifth floor. It was almost time for shift change, and the place was starting to quiet down for the night. A couple of hospital workers busied themselves at the nurse’s station. One of the nurses poked her head up from her computer. “Dr. Benson? I thought you were on your way home?”

  I gave her a wave. “Just forgot something,” I repeated breezily, hoisting my bag onto my shoulder as I walked in my still-sweaty gym clothes toward Jet’s room.

  It was ridiculous. I’d just gotten done telling myself I wouldn’t go into that room again, ever, while Jet Nash was in this hospital.

  And two minutes later . . . here I was. Fate was playing a cruel trick on me.

  This was my second shift ever at this hospital. I should’ve been schmoozing with the higher-ups, trying to play by the rules, and impress people so I could make a name for myself. I should not have been thinking what was going through my mind, right then.

  Namely, how I was going to break my first patient out of the hospital.

  This was not happening, I told myself as I crept down the hall. I’d officially been awake too long, and now I was hallucinating this whole thing. I was sure I’d wake up to my pile of boxes and realize this had all just been an awful nightmare.

  Jet’s room was dark except for a night light. So he’d finally taken my recommendation and decided to get some sleep. I peeked in, only to find those deep, blue eyes, glinting at me. Didn’t he ever sleep?

  “I knew you couldn’t keep away,” he said, a sexy tease in every word.

  I put my finger to my lips and turned on his bedside lamp.

  His eyes adjusted, then scanned my body. He looked disappointed, which made me curious. I was probably all sweaty and gross and felt the need to explain. “I’m sorry. I just came from the gym, but I think we’ve got trouble.”

  That superior smirk dissolved, and his face turned serious. “What kind of trouble?”

  I pointed to the front of the hospital. “I ran into two men downstairs asking about you. They had flames on their kuttes. I thought they might be from an enemy club.”

  His eyes flicked to mine. “And how do you know about kuttes and clubs?”

  “There’s no time to explain. I have to get you out of here, right?”

  He let out a breath. “You have to?”

  “Well, yes,” I said, grabbing his arm. I turned it over trying not to concentrate on how beautiful he was. I peeled off the tape and carefully pulled out the IV, then pressed a cotton ball from the supplies on his night table on the slight ooze of blood. I put his finger on it and said, “Keep the pressure on until I get back. I’ll just be a minute.”

  “Sweetheart,” Jet said, looking around his bed. He grabbed his phone off the side table, lifted the sheets off his body and tried to move out of the bed, wincing. “I’ve got to leave. But you don’t need to trouble yourself with it.”

  I let out a huff of air, feeling a little rejected. He’d been so hot to get in my pants while he sat in this hospital bed, but now he just wanted to leave? Did he realize that if he walked out this door, he’d never see me again?

  I sure realized it. And I couldn’t let that happen.

  “You’re still my patient, Mr. Nash. Under my care. You’re not well enough for me to release you. Can you understand? So you need to do what I say.”

  He started to get up.

  I held up my hands. “I’m serious. Just . . . stay put, here for a minute. I’ll be back.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say.” He mock saluted me, full snark.

  I quickly walked into the empty, dimly lit hallway then rushed across to the supply closet. Was I really contemplating the completely suicidal idea that kept running through my head? On my second day on the job? They’d fire me, for sure. Didn’t matter what awards I’d won or my stellar record . . . I was toast. Michael would be so disappointed.

  But as I rushed into the supply closet and started throwing bandages and medical tape and other supplies onto the seat of a wheelchair, I told myself this was more important. A life was at stake. If I left him here, in that hospital room, he’d die. And I’d taken an oath to protect my patients.

  I told myself that was all this was. That Michael or any other doctor would have done the same.

  Using my key, I unlocked the emergency medicine cabinet and pulled out the strongest pain medicines I could find, which weren’t very strong. They only stocked Tylenol and some other over-the-counter drugs on this ward. Nurses ordered narcotics from the pharmacy downstairs, and for some they had to go down and sign for them.

  I didn’t think Jet had anything to wear because we usually end up cutting the bloody clothes off a GSW victim. I doubted his friends had brought him a change. I quickly grabbed a package of hospital socks and a set of XL-size blue hospital scrubs off the shelf. I peeked out into the hallway, satisfied it was empty, then pushed open the door and wheeled the chair into Jet’s room.

  He was sitting up in the bed, facing away from me, so that the first thing I saw was the slope of his tanned back and the crack of his ass through the opening of the gown. Even that small glimpse of him had my thighs clenching. What was wrong with me? This was definitely not the right time to be thinking of sex.

  Actually, no time was right with a patient.

  Cursing myself, I pushed the wheelchair around the bed and saw his face twisted in agony. “Shit,” he muttered. “I don’t just feel like a truck ran over me. I feel like it ran over me, then backed up onto me and ran over me again.”

  I realized he’d pulled off his monitors, and that meant the nurses would be on their way soon. I grabbed the scrubs and set them next to him. “Quick. Put these on.”

  He motioned to his back. “Little help?”

  I stood there, dumbly, until I realized what he meant. “Oh.” I went around to his back and undid the two ties on the gown, then went to the wheelchair and started to load the supplies into my gym bag. When I looked up, I realized that he’d shrugged off his gown witho
ut hesitating and was now sitting there, naked, opening the top of the scrubs to yank it over his perfectly muscled frame. I quickly tried to avert my eyes to give him some privacy, but not quickly enough.

  “I thought doctors weren’t supposed to be shy about these things?” he said in a slow, easy way.

  I pulled the bag onto my shoulder and tried to ignore the question. “Hurry.”

  I tried to walk away to let him finish changing, but I heard him say, “Tell me something, baby.”

  The way he said, ‘baby’ made me halt in the middle of a stride. An alluring growl. “Yes?” I asked, voice cracking, afraid to look back, scared if I did, I’d never be able to turn away.

  “Look at me.”

  His voice was husky, his demeanor stern.

  I turned, unable to refuse. Gasping at the sight of those abs and pecs, I couldn’t help but focus on his lap, where he was holding in front of him the scrubs shirt, which hid his very erect, very hard cock.

  Every inch of him was perfect. Raw and unrefined, but perfect.

  And he knew it. His confidence had probably been earned, compliment by compliment, from dozens, maybe hundreds, of women, in many, many beds.

  A shiver ran down my spine as my eyes roved along his muscles.

  “What?” I shifted uncomfortably. The hospital had always been my fortress, the place where I felt comfortable. But this man? He made my world do somersaults.

  That smirk appeared, roguish and devil-may-care, proving he knew exactly the wicked thoughts his naked body brought to my mind.

  “Nothing,” he said casually. “I just wanted you to look at me.”

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I was a grown woman. A doctor. I’d seen plenty of cocks before. That particular part of the anatomy had never really impressed me. When it came to cocks, I’d subscribed to the Michael point of view—I saw it in a very clinical way, for its purpose, for what it could do.

  I’d never thought of a cock as a work of art until I met Jetson.