Bocca: A Steel Paragons MC Novel

by Eve R. Hart

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  CHAPTER ONE Bocca

  CHAPTER TWO Bocca

  CHAPTER THREE Bocca

  CHAPTER FOUR Bocca

  CHAPTER FIVE Bocca

  CHAPTER SIX Loch

  CHAPTER SEVEN Bocca

  CHAPTER EIGHT Hunter

  CHAPTER NINE Bocca

  CHAPTER TEN Bocca

  CHAPTER ELEVEN Silas

  CHAPTER TWELVE Bocca

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN Rosemarie

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN Lucy

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN Rosemarie

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN Diesel

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Bocca

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Rosemarie

  CHAPTER NINETEEN Bocca

  CHAPTER TWENTY Rosemarie

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Bocca

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Rosemarie

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Bocca

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR Rosemarie

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Bocca

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX Rosemarie

  Epilogue

  Bocca

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Find Her

  Other Works

  Bocca

  A Steel Paragons MC Novel

  By Eve R. Hart

  Copyright © 2018 Eve R. Hart

  All right reserved.

  The scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. This book or any portion thereof my not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for brief quotations used in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writers imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is purely coincidental.

  Warning: This book is intended for readers 18 years and older. This book contains violence, harsh language, and explicit sex scenes.

  Cover image credit Shutterstock.com- Roman Samborskyi

  Dedication

  This is for those that want a little darkness in their stories.

  It’s perfectly alright to like it when things get

  a little messed up.

  Prologue

  Bocca

  I hope you’re ready. Because this isn’t some sweet ‘n sappy love story. Things are about to get crazy. Intense. Dark. And possibly even disturbing for some of you. I just wanted to throw that little warning at ya. I wouldn’t want you to be surprised. There will be some seriously fucked up shit ahead. Keep going at your own risk.

  Okay, with that said. There will be no beating around the bush. No, there won’t be the dangling of some depressing backstory about me in front of your face.

  You want my backstory, you say?

  Alright, fine, but it’s not very exciting.

  I was born to two very intelligent people. I’m talking PhDs on top of PhDs. My mother was one of the most sought-after cardiothoracic surgeons in the country with the kind of coldness that you could only imagine. She wasn’t cruel, she just…had no emotions. If someone died on her table she saw it as an undefinable failure, not in the way that she couldn’t save a life, but that somehow she had done something unacceptably wrong. It would become something she would rework over and over in her head for days. No, not wishing she could have saved them because it wasn’t about the human life, it was about never making a mistake. She became determined to never have the same thing happen again. In other words, she made a mistake and that was unacceptable. She saw it as something that should never happen to her.

  As for my father, he was standoffish. He was a man that lived in his head more than in reality. A psychologist that sought out to fix the human brain, not necessarily the person. His compulsive need to understand how and why human beings ticked led him to go after and receiving not only a PhD in Cognitive Psychology, but also a PsyD in Clinical Psychology.

  So, cool, huh?

  As for as how I came along? Well, no clue there. I imagined many times that it was one accident after too many drinks at some kind of charity event or work function. I’d never seen my parents be affectionate towards one another. Ever. Matter of fact, I couldn’t even recall a time they’d been in the same room together for more than sixty seconds unless it was for show.

  Well, out came baby me and I was pretty sure they were both thinking the same thing. What do we do with this thing now?

  I was raised by “intelligent” nannies. And before you ask about school functions, piano recitals, sports games, and all that shit, let me tell you that there were none. Mostly because I never went to an actual school. The moment I was born they had decided that I was too smart to waste my time in those sort of institutions, that they would mold my brain the way they thought it should be molded and developed.

  My life started off with information being crammed down my throat from day one. I was expected to be ahead from the get-go. Crawl before my body could even hold itself up. Talk before I even began to coo. Walk a straight line before I could say my name. And so on. I was born from two geniuses and therefore, I had to be one as well. There was no excuse for failure. There was no reason why I shouldn’t excel, and even exceed their expectations.

  I never left the house because they saw no point in it. I learned to play the piano, the violin, and the flute. My father said that it would open my brain to reach new levels and retain even more. I never knew if it helped or not. I was just glad for the break from all that reading. I had so many tutors that I stopped trying to remember who was who.

  In a nutshell, my parents weren’t there for me, not in any capacity. They didn’t ever show me they loved me. I only was dressed up and brought out when needed.

  I knew way too much for my own good, and at times, even theirs. I would bet that you could see where this was going. Yep, bored out of my mind with the access to a computer at the age of thirteen, I found myself up to no good when no one was looking. At night, I developed my skills alone in a dark room. Starved for not only new knowledge—because that was how I’d been raised—but also too curious and lonely for my own good, I began to search out things that I didn’t understand. Things that I didn’t have. Things that I knew were out there but hadn’t been allowed to participate in. And then it just grew from there, branching out to see what I could do, what I could get away with, and so on.

  I think a combination of being over stimulated with dull things during the day, as I thought them, and having virtually no outside contact was what led to me losing my virginity at fifteen. I was limited as far as options went, and some might think it was icky or wrong, but my twenty-five-year-old art tutor was hot as fuck to a teenage boy like me. One thing I learned about myself was that I did have this magnificent charm even at a young age. Some might think that she seduced me, but no, I knew what I was doing. And I sure as hell hoped for that exact outcome.

  Man, just the thought of her still made me hard. Long, platinum blonde hair. Cute, thick lips. Hazel eyes that were more green than brown. Oh and that rack. I had big hands for my age and they were overflowing, let me tell you. She was wild. Which was perfect because I was not only a willing and eager-to-learn participant, I was also armed with many questions and suggestions.

  Oh yeah, I had stumbled on a few porn sites by then. I had the mechanics and angles of it all in my head like a damn manual. What I soon learned was that knowing and doing was, well, hugely different. But I definitely preferred to have the han
ds-on kind of lesson.

  Okay, okay. You get it. I’ll stop now.

  Anyway, as I grew older, I became more restless and felt out of place in my own home. Feeling like I’d outgrown my own home and was really sick of how I was being treated, I took off at seventeen. With the freedom to do anything I wanted, I started taking in everything that I’d been missing out on. Which included not only learning how to drive, but finding that I had a fondness for riding things with two wheels. Maybe it was the danger of being on a motorcycle that I loved. Or it could have been the hum and vibrations as I drove that seemed to quiet my constantly going brain. Whatever it was, from the first time I turned over the engine as I sat on that hot leather seat, I knew I’d found home.

  A few years later, after much research and watching different clubs, I found the one I wanted to be a part of. And I had a plan to make myself stand out. A year later, I was a new patched in member of the Steel Paragons MC and I haven’t looked back since.

  So, cool. That pretty much sums up my life. And now that we have that out of the way, I hope you’re ready. Turn this page with a warning. This isn’t sweet. This isn’t a love story. Yes, it will paint you a picture of how I found my sexy, amazing, wonderful old lady, but it takes a while until we get to her. And believe me when I say, I had to crawl through hell to get there.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Bocca

  “Good?” Loch asked me the moment I stepped inside the clubhouse. It was like he was just waiting around for us to get back. He reminded me of one of those helicopter moms sitting by the window, counting down the minutes until curfew was up.

  I had just put too many miles under my tires and hadn’t even had a chance to shake the fucking dust out of my hair. I was tired and a bit sunburned. I could feel my skin itching already.

  “All good,” I replied as I made my way to the bar.

  Things had been nothing but chaos. We were trying to take the brunt of everything because the new chapter was still getting their feet under them. There were more loads to be shifted around and handed off. More connections being made. Just more everything.

  And that was what maybe irritated me the most. Weren’t we supposed to be pulling back? The idea of going legit seemed like a distant dream yet again. We had been so close. Until that fucker, Savage pulled his shit. Not only had he kept us wrapped up in the gun running business, he was also the reason we were so deep in it now. Sure, the fucker was dead and gone, burnt up like that shit that gets left on the bottom of the oven, but that was exactly the reason we had gotten the hold that we had now. We were the suppliers. We had the docks down on the coast covered, which meant we had the intake and we had to be the one to handle the handouts, the deliveries. We were more like the top dog now. Cool, if that was dream and all, but most of us had been looking forward to leaving the danger behind.

  I, for one, was one of those people. I wanted to kick back and enjoy life. I didn’t want to have to constantly worry about looking over my shoulder. I didn’t want to be running here and there and digging into tons and tons of people to find the skeletons they thought they’d kept hidden. Searching to find out whether or not someone could be trusted, that was a lot to have on your shoulders—and in your head. And if I missed just one thing, it could cost the club big fucking time.

  But in a way, that was what I’d signed up for. When I rode up here on my bike many years ago, it was that card that I played to get me in. So really, I didn’t have the right to bitch and gripe about it.

  Computer genius, some of them called me. The tech guru. Others stuck to the simpler terms like nerd and hacker. They never meant it in a mean way and I didn’t feel like they were picking on me. In fact, I think some of them were downright scared of me for that. I had the ability to not only know every single detail about their lives, but to fuck it up too. I could ruin your credit in just a few minutes. Have a warrant out for your arrest. Link you to a crime. Just about anything.

  But I didn’t want to be that dick and I had never made that threat on my own. It was always someone else's mouth moving when those words were spoken. The notoriety of my skills was enough for me to sit back and remain silent.

  Could I really complain? No, because this was what I’d asked for. I knew that, and I wasn’t looking for any sympathy. I was simply telling it like it was.

  So here we were, the head chapter to the Steel Paragons MC. There were now five chapters spread out over three states. Like I had said, the one down on the coast was the baby and still learning how to stand on its own little chubby baby legs. We were the parents, and just like with babies, the parents took on the brunt of the stress in the early days. Okay, fuck all that, none of that made sense but I think you get me.

  This run had taken us a week. It started out with ten of us riding down to the coast for the pick-up. Then we drove back through Moon Hill, dwindling the party down to just three of us to carry on to the West Tennessee chapter. If only it had ended there. Eight of the West Tenn. brothers joined the ride, along with a few more crates, and we hauled that shit to an MC in Georgia.

  Now I was home and sad to say, looking for a bit of a break from my bike. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my bike, and more, feeling her between my legs, but too much of a good thing…well, I think you know.

  I grabbed myself a beer but didn’t take a seat, I needed to stretch my legs for a bit. Loch was right there at my side but held his questions back while I took my moment. I tried not to look irritated but I was ready to flop my ass in my bed and take a good long nap. I missed my damn bed. It was big and comfy and all fucking mine.

  After I downed my beer, I started to answer the questions I knew he’d been waiting to ask.

  “Everything went smoothly. The new MC didn’t rub me the wrong way. In fact, I liked them. There wasn’t even so much as a hitch during drop off. Money is as it should be. And,” I paused trying to think if I was missing anything, “they have this one bitch down there that has huge natural tits and a tight pussy.”

  He laughed and shook his head at me while he gave me a firm pat on the back like he hadn’t expected anything less from me. Why would he? That was me after all. I loved my dick and I loved giving him attention—or getting him the attention he deserved, rather. I didn’t jack my shit. There was no need with the clubwhores we had around here. Come on, if someone were to walk by and offer you free candy, would you turn it down? Don’t lie, you aren’t fooling anyone. There is no diet when free candy is involved.

  Did I actually fuck the bitch with huge tits and tight cunt? Yes, of course I did. Eiffel Towered her with some guy named Tiny. I had no clue why he was called that because the man wasn’t tiny, in any sense. I wasn’t purposely trying to check out his junk, but when he had to unroll it out of his pants, it was kind of hard to miss. Glad that shit didn’t go anywhere near me.

  “Anythin’ else?” I asked Loch, giving him my full attention.

  “No. Thanks, brother. Go get some sleep. Church tomorrow morning.” He clapped me on the shoulder, his attention already turned in the direction of Cal’s office.

  I downed another beer, then headed back to my room. As I stripped down behind my closed and locked door, I stared at my setup longingly. Yes, you read that right. A week away from my baby and my fingers itched to give her some attention. Even though I didn’t have an assignment right now, there was always shit to track down and to keep an eye open for. Bad people to shut down, enemies to look out for, and allies to make sure stayed that way. There was always something, it never ended, and I was quite happy with that.

  Most of the guys didn’t know what I did in my spare time and I liked it that way. It wasn’t that I was ashamed, it was that I didn’t need people to think of me any differently. I didn’t need the title of hero, because I fucking wasn’t one. I just wanted to make the world a better place, and I’d hoped the small impact that I had was reaching toward that goal.

  I took a long shower, one that not only managed to steam up my bathroom but started to seep into m
y room as well. For a long time, I just stood there, hoping the grime would wash itself away. I was too tired to really scrub. But once I stepped out and wrapped the towel around me, I had to admit that I felt more like myself. Things weren’t really all that bad, and I was whining like a little bitch because I was sleep deprived.

  Out of habit, I woke my computer up. I wasn’t sure why because it wasn’t like I was going to sit down and actually start checking things out. Truth was, once the main screen lit up, I had to force myself away.

  With a flick of my wrist, my towel dropped to the floor. I told myself I’d pick it up later as I reached for a pair of boxers.

  Boxers were the best thing to sleep in. Loose and freeing, dick and buddies got to hang out unrestricted but still had their own little VIP area. Plus, there was that slit in the front that provided a little airflow. And these boxers were made from some nice, soft fabric. I wasn’t picky about much. What I covered my junk with, however, I was particular on. I’d been the butt of many jokes because of it. But I was man enough that I could shake it off at the end of the day.

  I didn’t bother with anything else, I simply pulled my sheets back and attempted to get most of my body on the bed as I fell and face planted my pillow.

  Before long, I was out like a baby.

  I felt like I hadn’t been out long before that awful sound threatened to pull me away from a dream. A very nice dream, might I add. With a hot Asian and a well endowed Italian. Both women were touching me and I wouldn’t have even been surprised if I had started humping my mattress a little. But that sound, it was ruining it and they were slipping away like smoke under a rotating fan. I tried to hold onto them, but it was no use. I knew what that sound meant, and as much as I wanted to pretend I hadn’t heard it, there was no way I could.

  I snapped awake and hopped over the end of my bed with the stealth of a cheetah. In less than thirty seconds, I had everything going and was looking at a close-up shot of a tiny, dark haired woman. One that I sort of loved and sort of hated. Okay, so I only hated her because she was better than me. Yes, I could admit it even though it got me in the gut like a sharp knife.