Steel Cobras MC Complete Box Set: Books 1-6

by Evie Monroe

  I jumped out of my chair, straining forward to make sure it wasn’t a figment of my imagination. After all, my imagination had been rendering images of Hart ever since I’d left him that somebody should have labeled Not-Safe-For-Work.

  But no, it wasn’t a product of my imagination. He parked his bike in the lot, in what I believed was a handicap space. What a rebel. He was still straddling the bike.

  He took off his helmet and shook his messy mop of hair into place, Barb said, “Looks like someone made a wrong turn. Think I should lock the door so he doesn’t come in?”

  My chair had rolled away a little, so when I went to sit back down on it, my ass hit the edge and I went down, my butt hitting the ground with a thud.

  I looked up to see Barb peeking over the edge of the desk, eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

  Before I could say anything, I heard the front door creak open and close, and a gruff voice said, “Charlotte here?”

  I would’ve liked to spend the rest of my life under the desk, considering I had just taken a dive because of him. But why was he here? Had something happened to Jojo?

  I jumped up like a jack in the box. “Here. Why? Is everything okay?”

  He didn’t necessarily look surprised. Amused, maybe. “What were you doing down there? Sleeping?”

  I looked at Barb, who eyed me suspiciously. Though she was divorced, I knew a lot about her ex-husband and her current boyfriend, both clean-cut, tie-wearing, Silicon Valley executive types. Nothing like this man. She must’ve thought I’d gone off my rocker.

  “No, I was just . . . searching for my earring back,” I muttered, an obvious lie because I wasn’t wearing earrings. “Why are you here again? Is Jojo okay?”

  “Yeah. Last I checked an hour ago. He was fine.”

  “An hour ago? Why isn’t he with you?”

  “Because he said he had stuff to do, so I let him go, as long as he promised to be back home to you at midnight.”

  I sighed loudly. “Really? You just let him out of your sight like that?”

  He looked at me like I was a fly on his sandwich. “Jesus, girl. Yeah.”

  I swear, his neck might have been a tree trunk, but I wanted to wrap my hands around it and shake him anyway. “What happened to looking after him?”

  His eyes shifted to the side, and I realized Barb was watching this whole thing. I might have been friendly with Barb, but I didn’t want her to see me blowing a gasket, not at work, which I was dangerously close to doing.

  I needed to take Hart somewhere quiet to talk. I checked the clock. We had five minutes left on our shift.

  Fine. I could hold my shit together for that long. He had five minutes left to live.

  I clamped my mouth shut and decided I’d spend those five minutes getting my things together so I could run out the door and tear him a new asshole right at midnight. I finished cleaning off my workspace and when I looked up, Hart was extending his hand to Barb.

  “Seeing as how Charlotte isn’t going to introduce us . . . How are you doing? I’m Hart.” He said it in a friendly way that made her smile and giggle like a schoolgirl.

  Apparently his charm wasn’t just for women my age.

  “Charmed, Mr. Hart,” she said, as I rolled my eyes. In what way was he a mister? “How do you know Charlotte?”

  He said, very cordially, “I’m a friend of her brother’s.”

  “Ah,” Barb said. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

  Since they were getting along so well, I went to the locker and grabbed my purse. When I returned, the next shift had arrived and something had Barb laughing hysterically. She bent over nearly in half and slapped her knee snickering about some joke of Hart’s. What the fuck? Nothing he’d said so far had ever been that funny to me.

  When I cleared my throat, they looked at me as if I’d interrupted them. I said to Barb, “Mind if I bow out a minute early, Barb? I’ve got to check on my brother.” I shot a couple of daggers in Hart’s direction.

  “No, no, of course!” she sang. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Hart!”

  The last I saw, he gave her a wink. I threw open the door and let it go as quickly as I passed through it, so it’d slam in his face if he followed me.

  Which he did. A second later, he was right behind me, his hand on my shoulder, so I spun on him. “Get away from me.”

  He dropped his hands. “What? You’re telling me your pissed because I didn’t follow your brother around with TP so I could wipe his ass?”

  “No. I’m pissed because you promised you’d look after him and now he’s not with you. Do you even know where he is?”

  “Yeah. He went to his club. But he promised he’d be back by midnight.”

  I pulled my keys out of my purse. “I wouldn’t put too much faith in his promises if I were you.”

  “Jesus Christ, Charlie. For the last time, he’s an adult. You have to loosen the leash. When I was his age, I was on my own.”

  “I’ve been on my own all my goddamn life!” I shot back at him. “The difference is, I can handle it. He can’t. You don’t know him, Hart. You don’t know anything!”

  He dug his hands into his pockets and started to stalk away, his back tense.

  When he turned around, I tore open the door to my car and said, “And if you call me Charlie one more time, I’ll fuck you up!” and slammed the door to the car before he could say whatever insults were on his tongue.

  I felt good, for about ten seconds, as I sped out of the parking lot. Didn’t even care that I punched the gas and my tires squealed just as Barb was walking into the lot. But as he disappeared from my rear-view mirror, I started to feel worse and worse.

  Why was he such a dumbass?

  Why did I think I could rely on such a dumbass?

  And why, even though I knew he was a dumbass, was every pore in my body wanting him again?

  By the time I got back to the apartment, I’d already cursed Hart’s name in every way imaginable. Who did he think he was, showing up at my place of employment? What did he think he was doing, leaving Jojo when I expressly told him not to? And why did he have to be so goddamn fucking hot?

  I neared my parking space, and—no surprise—that bike that Jojo had been tooling around in lately was nowhere to be seen. I pressed my lips together smugly as a second later, Hart sailed into the empty space beside me.

  “See?” I said, jumping out of the car. I held out my phone to him. “It’s twelve-fifteen. You see how well he keeps his promises? This is why I can’t treat him like an adult!”

  Hart cut the engine on his bike and took off his helmet. “Give him a few minutes. He’ll be here.”

  I was already jabbing an incoherent text to Jojo’s phone, telling him I was going to kill him, in all caps, with lots of punctuation. “Fuck that. I’ve given him enough free passes. You have no idea.”

  I expected an argument, but when I looked up, he was nodding. Amazing. He didn’t have a response.

  “I’m going inside,” I muttered, pressing SEND on the text and heading up the path to my apartment.

  He followed me. “Want me to take my bike out and look for him?”

  “No. I don’t. You’ve done enough. Just go,” I said, walking faster, my head down.

  Hart didn’t give up. He followed me. As I ran up the stairs, I saw a light on in our apartment window. I’d left quickly, so I might have left it on, or . . . maybe Jojo had come back. Maybe his crap cycle had given out on him and he’d had to get rid of it. A little flash of hope ignited in me.

  Eager to see, I knocked, then fiddled with the key, trying to get the door open as the dogs began to yip inside.

  But when I threw open the door, I looked around and saw everything just the way I’d left it. I must’ve just forgotten to turn the light off.

  I fisted both hands, stalked to the sofa, pulled up a pillow, and punched it with a loud “Ahhhhh!”

  “Hey. Calm down.”

  I looked back at the door. Hart stood there, looking at me with
an expression that said, aren’t you overreacting again? I took the pillow and chucked it at him, hard.

  He calmly caught it as Opie dashed between his legs. Talk about making everything worse. I didn’t need calm. I needed someone to be as riled up and outraged over this as I was.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I snarled. “You’ve done enough. Get out of my apartment!”

  His look turned to downright incredulous. “Are you fucking serious? I came here to check on you. To make sure you’re all right. And this is the thanks I get?”

  Okay, I wasn’t going to cave that easily, like a piece of wilted lettuce. I stalked up to him. “No one asked you to. I asked you to watch over my brother, which you clearly can’t do. And . . .” I stopped as something hit me. “Why would you think I wouldn’t be all right?”

  He shrugged his shoulder. Was there something he wasn’t telling me?

  Oh, fuck. If he wasn’t telling me something, I’d beat it out of him. If Jojo was in bigger trouble than Hart was letting on. If he thought he was protecting me by keeping me in the dark . . . he had another think coming. “What . . . what the fuck does that mean? What’s going on?”

  He stared down at me with those light, intoxicating eyes that were my total undoing, as I tried not to crack.

  “Hart. Tell me. If you know something . . .”

  He didn’t have to tell me shit. He knew he had me. Damn him. He knew all he had to do was stand there, and I’d drop my panties for him and do his bidding.

  “Goddammit.” I raised my fists to him and started to pummel his chest. I didn’t care. I’d beat it out of him if this was the way he wanted to play it.

  He let me. For a good ten seconds, he let me lay into him. I doubt it hurt him because he didn’t take a step back or block me or anything. He just let me use him as my whipping post.

  Then suddenly and fiercely, he grabbed both my wrists. It was so unexpected, I let out a gasp. He held them tight, in between us.

  “Don’t,” he said, his voice low and rumbling.

  I’d had men hold me like that before. Usually, foster fathers, right before they beat my ass, or threw me across the room. I held my breath in anticipation of the pain.

  Instead, he pulled me up to him and our mouths crashed together.

  He let go of my wrists as his tongue controlled my mouth, his powerful hands reached around me and grabbed my ass. The second he did, I felt the wetness between my legs, my pussy so achy for him, wanting him so much I could barely stand, even with him holding me up. His body pressed against mine, and I responded, my nipples painfully hard against his chest.

  Coherent thought went out the window. My senses took over. God, his smell was delicious, and the taste of him even more so. The feel of his stubble against my face was painfully addictive. That was what it was, all pain and pleasure and so much need. I couldn’t even remember what I’d been so angry about.

  Yes! Yes! More! I thought as his tongue plundered my mouth and his hands massaged my ass. I ran my hands around his back, lifting his shirt.

  He didn’t lift me and take me to the bed this time. No, this time he walked me toward the couch. As he did, he reached for the hem of my scrubs shirt, then his warm hands dove underneath, molding my breasts through my bra as he kissed me, groaning and licking at my lips.

  He broke the kiss and gazed into my eyes, pressing his forehead against mine. “I want to fuck you again.”

  I nodded, the bobble-head nod. Again. I wanted that, too. Really, what had I been so angry about, before? Blinded by need, I reached down, grabbed the hem of my shirt, and pulled it up over my head, shaking my ponytail free. “Good. I want that too. I want to feel you inside me.”

  I guessed I must have been so out-of-it that not only had I forgotten my brother, I’d gone deaf to the roaring sound of his motorcycle. Because the second I told Hart to fuck me, the door swung open and Jojo walked in saying, “Sorry I’m—”

  Hart and I broke apart like two magnets of the same charge, and I clasped my shirt over my breasts. Jojo stopped, his eyes trailing from Hart’s face to my shocked expression and turned on his heel.

  “Fuck you both,” he called over his shoulder as his boots hammered their way down the stairs outside.

  Eyes wide, I looked at Hart, who wasn’t looking at me. He’d already started to race after Jojo.

  I covered my mouth with my hands as realization set in. What the fuck was I doing?

  For the first time, my little brother had totally slipped my mind. How could I have let go of a piece of my heart like that so easily? If anyone had asked me a week ago if that could ever happen, I’d have told them they were insane.

  Turned out all it took was one hot, badass motorcycle man to make me forget everything I thought I knew.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hart

  I didn’t have to be a genius to know that Charlie was mortified. So I did the only thing I could do. I turned tail and chased after her brother.

  My cock was hard as a rock by then, so I adjusted it in my pants as I tore after him. He was a fast little thing. I didn’t catch up with him until he’d reached his bike, and even then, I had to call after him.

  “Wait. Joel. Chill out for a second,” I said as I reached the curb.

  “Fuck you. I don’t have to listen to you anymore. You’re a fucking asshole.”

  He jumped on his bike, but I reached for the keys and twisted them out of his hand before he could stick them in the ignition. He made a grab for them, but I yanked them away and backed up to the curb. “Come on. Just listen to me.”

  He scowled at me, breathing hard. “Why the fuck should I? Is that what you were planning, this whole time? To fuck my sister? Is that why you’re doing all this?”

  I shook my head. “You know that’s not true. I didn’t even know you had a sister until yesterday.”

  He blew out a breath of air. “Yeah. You wasted no time trying to get in her pants.”

  “Hey. Sorry to break it to you, kid, but I didn’t really have to try that hard.”

  In retrospect, that was the wrong thing to say. He pushed off his bike and came at me, fists clenched. He got off one punch, barely connecting with my shoulder before I grabbed his hand. I wrenched him around, twisting his arm behind his back, and shoved him to the ground so I was standing over him. He fought me, but I had at least fifty pounds on the kid, and a shit ton more muscle. There was no match.

  I didn’t want to have the kid sprawled out on his stomach on the concrete, cheek against the ground, arm bent up behind him, but he left me no choice. He wiggled to get free as I gritted out. “If you calm down so we can talk about this, I’ll let you go.”

  He spit on my boot. “Go to fucking hell.”

  I let go of him anyway, just because I deserved it. I’d have probably been pissed off too if someone was trying to fuck my sister. Good thing I didn’t have one.

  He pushed up onto his knees, then staggered to his feet and shoved my chest with both hands. “You fucker! You fucking disgusting motherfucking piece of shit!”

  I pushed him back, just once, not hard, but firmly, and he staggered a few steps backwards, whatever rage in his eyes melting away to defeat. Oh, the hate was still there, but at least he’d learned not to mess with me.

  He held a finger up, in defensive position, like I was the one attacking him, even though everything I’d done so far was in self-defense. “Listen to me, fucker. Hear this loud and clear. Get the fuck out of here, and don’t come back. You, and all of the Cobra pieces of shit. You all can stay away from me and my sister.”

  “You said you didn’t like your sister messing in your business. Well, maybe you should stay out of hers,” I said calmly.

  “You are my business,” he seethed, his fists closing again as he raised them to chest level. I stood there, braced for the onslaught, but he didn’t come at me. “I don’t know. I thought we were . . . I thought you were my . . .”

  He stopped, and his face trembled a little, l
ike he might break down.

  Before he could, I said, “Look. I am your friend. Okay? But that has nothing to do with Charlie.”

  “What the . . . Charlie?” He paced away from me, then rounded back. “What the fuck? So how long have you and Charlie been fucking? You get her into bed the second you met her? That’s how you guys operate, right? The more women, the better. I should’ve fucking known.”

  “It’s not like that, kid. Listen, I got to thinking about the way the Fury operates, and if they get wind that you’re dealing with us, they’d fuck you up. You made a mistake when you told them all about her. So I went to her job to check on her, and it just happened.”

  His lips turned up into a snarl. “It just happened,” he mocked. “I don’t believe that shit. My sister doesn’t need anyone looking after her, least of all, you. She’s tough. She can hold her own.”

  I shook my head. “No. If the Fury sees her as a threat, there’s no telling what they’d do. She can’t defend herself against them, and you can’t defend her, either. They’d kill you and kill her . . . or worse. Put her on the street to make them money and own her.” I crossed my arms. “Is that what you want?”

  “You’re lying,” he said, his voice cracking.

  “No. I’ve seen it before. That’s the way they treat women. They nearly killed Drake’s girl, Cait. Cait is Slade’s daughter. If Slade nearly killed Cait and her mom, the Fury’d think nothing of killing your sister.”

  He scoffed, until he realized I was dead serious. “You mean it?”

  I nodded.

  “And the Cobras treat their women better?”

  “Yeah. That might be how the Fury works, but that ain’t how we work,” I said to him. “And Charlie’s different. I like her.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you like her? So that makes it all right.” He blew out a breath of air, raked both hands through his hair, and crouched on the grass, staring at the ground. “Jesus. You better do a hell of a lot more than that, asshole.”

  “She’s not just some girl to me. And regardless of what you think about the Fury, I don’t fuck around. I’m not going to fuck her over, if that’s what you mean.”