Cullen: Steel Cobras MC

by Evie Monroe

  I went to her, knelt down in front of her. “You okay?” I couldn’t touch her; I was full of spit and gore.

  It didn’t matter to her. She wasn’t looking at me. Still shaking, she pushed away from me, and crawled toward the closet. It was only then that I heard Ella’s crying. Grace came out of the closet, gathering Ella to her chest, shushing her softly. By the time I crawled over there, Ella had calmed and was cooing softly, smiling up at her mother’s face.

  Fierce. Caring. Loyal. Grace was born to be a mother. Born to be the mother of my kids. And with a woman this good in Ella’s life, I figured I couldn’t fuck things up too much. I’d give it my best shot.

  I crawled up and staggered to the bathroom and ran my head under the shower to clean the Fury shit off my head and my face. I could hear Grace escape to the living room as I grabbed a towel, wiping myself clean, dry, stepping over the carnage as I joined her in the living room.

  I leaned over and kissed them both, ready for whatever came next.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Grace

  Stunned.

  Shaking.

  Scared to fucking death.

  I cradled Ella in my arms, clinging to her, needing her and her sweetness as much as she needed my arms around her, comforting her. I needed to get everything I’d seen out of my head.

  But I didn’t think that was possible. Seconds had passed, and I already knew these memories would be seared in my brain forever.

  The bleeding bodies were still scattered around us. These men’s lives had just ended. Cullen had just taken them down in a shootout, right in front of me, without a second thought. He’d done it like he did everything else, with precise, almost clinical calmness.

  I held Ella to my chest as I sensed a warm presence behind me. At first, I flinched, but then I settled into it, knowing it was the man who’d promised to protect me, no matter what. It was uniquely Cullen, whose arms I fit into better than anyone else’s. Who, even after all this, made me feel like I was home.

  “Hey,” he whispered into my ear. “You all right?”

  I couldn’t bring myself to answer. Because no, I was far from all right. I was getting better though, nestled in his arms. I just wanted him to hold me in this quiet cocoon a little while longer.

  “Ella all right?” He ran a hand through her curls and she cooed happily. My chest swelled with relief.

  I hugged him back, tighter, wrapping my hand around his neck. His skin was damp; I breathed in the sweet scent of his sweat, a scent that felt like home. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “I told you,” he said, nonchalant, though even I could feel his heart beating double-time in his chest. “I’m never gonna let anything happen to you or Ella.”

  Holding tight to me, he lifted me to my feet, and, shielding my eyes from the bodies on the floor in the next room, walked me through the living room, and out the open front door.

  Outside, on the tree-lined path, crickets chirped on, undaunted by what had happened here. Sirens wailed in the distance. I kept my head down, my face buried in his chest, Ella pressed against my breast as I heard the sound of someone running and faraway chatter. On the path ahead, a voice shouted, “Cullen! What the fuck happened?”

  I looked up to see one of the men who’d been outside the warehouse coming toward us, gun drawn.

  “They’re dead, Hart. Bruiser too,” Cullen said, voice hard, pointing the way behind us. “I had to leave our stuff.”

  “Bruiser? Shit.” He gnashed his teeth. “What the hell? He came after you?”

  “I’ll call church later,” Cullen said, guiding me toward the parking lot. “I’ve got to get these two away from here. Get in there and clean up as much as you can, get the stuff we left, then get your ass out of there. The police’ll be here any second.”

  More people were running now, gathering on the path outside the bungalows, wondering what the hell was going on. They were murmuring that they’d heard the gunshots. More guys in Cobras kuttes arrived, too, but Cullen silently signaled to them to turn around and go back. He had a hundred-dollar bill out before he got to the valet. “Hey,” he said to the teenaged boy at the stand. “Be quick about it, okay?”

  The kid’s eyes scanned over us. We were both barefoot, and Cullen was only wearing jeans, his gun sticking out from the waistband. I was still trembling. The boy opened his mouth to speak but Cullen shut him down. “NO questions.”

  The kid nodded and ran off.

  He returned with the car a moment later, opening the door for me. As he did, I saw the flashing red and blue lights of the police cruisers. There wasn’t time to get Ella into her seat, so I put her on my lap. Cullen slammed the door, slid over the hood to the driver’s side, got in, and gunned the gas. We tore out of the lot as the police were arriving.

  “What about your guys?” I asked, looking over my shoulder as one, three, five police cars pulled in, choking the roundabout. This place was about to become a circus.

  His hands loosened on the steering wheel as we pulled onto the highway. “Them?” He shook his head. “If anyone knows how to deal with the cops, it’s my guys. They’ll be fine. Are you okay?”

  That question again. I nodded, but I wasn’t sure. I was better than the last time he’d asked. My heart was still pounding out of my chest. My head hurt. I couldn’t stop thinking of how those men looked as they died. How I’d been so close to losing Cullen. I opened my mouth to say I was, but instead, a sob slipped out.

  “Hey.” He reached over and put a hand on the back of my neck, his big, callused fingers caressing me with uncharacteristic softness. He pulled over to the side of the road. “We’ll be okay.”

  I nodded. “I know. I just can’t stop thinking.”

  Ella started to squirm. He got out of the car and lifted her out of my arms. He placed her in the car seat in the back.

  In the darkness, I heard a little, sleepy voice say, “Daddy, hold me.”

  I whirled. “Did she just ask you to . . .?”

  He let out a short laugh. “Yeah.”

  I smiled, until I was hit with a stabbing realization. She’d been so close to losing her Daddy tonight. I shuddered.

  When we took off again, he kept his hand in mine, on my knee, his fingers slowly stroking my thigh. I was exhausted. Scared. Didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry. All the while, he kept repeating that we would be okay.

  When we pulled up at his house, I blinked. I didn’t think I’d ever see this place again. And this was Aveline Bay. Where the Fury lived. Bruiser said we weren’t welcome here. They wanted the Cobras—and Cullen especially—out. Bruiser might have been dead, but there were others. I looked up at the massive white mansion and started to shiver uncontrollably.

  “I told you, I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Cullen said.

  “But what you did . . .those guys . . .” I babbled.

  He nodded, my fears were real. “Right. But I’ll keep you safe, Grace. I promise you, I will.” He motioned to the door. “Let’s go on in so you can get some rest.”

  I got out, trembling, as he reached into the back and pulled out a sleeping Ella. We went inside, where he laid Ella on her bed, covered with her favorite pink sheets again. I watched him, lingering in the hallway, thinking of that man Bruiser’s hands on me, his gun pressed up against my temple. I shuddered to think what could have happened. I could still smell his stench on me. It didn’t matter how many times I told myself I was safe. I kept looking around, expecting to see him crawling out of the shadows.

  When Cullen turned back to me and saw the look on my face, he put a finger under my chin and gently tilted my face up. He kissed my lips. “Hot bath?”

  I sighed with relief at the thought. “Yes.”

  He opened up the double doors to his extravagant master bath, with the huge corner tub, in front of a giant curved picture window that offered a 180-degree view of the Pacific Ocean. It was dark, but there were a few ships silently slipping by, their lights blinki
ng in the distance.

  He knelt in front and started to run the water for me. I stood in the door, blankly watching the water fill the tub as he swirled his hand in it to check on the temperature. “Take off your clothes.”

  I looked down. My clothes were splattered with blood. I cringed and started to panic. I couldn’t do this. No matter how much I loved him.

  He cupped my cheeks in both hands, kissed my forehead, and said, “I know you’re afraid. You’ve been through a lot tonight. I just want you to know I will keep you and Ella safe. The bad guys are gone.”

  “Yeah, but for how long? Cullen, I . . .” When I looked up at him, I saw he still had that man’s spit on his shirt.

  “Baby. Let’s take a hot bath and relax a little. It’s late. We’re both exhausted. I promise. You’re safe now. Let me help you out of these clothes.”

  I smiled. He sure seemed eager. I pointed to the picture window. “Will the neighbors be able to see me? Barry has a heart condition, you know.”

  “Yeah? I’ll make sure I parade around outside naked more often,” he said.

  I looked up at him, my face too tired to make a scowl.

  “Kidding.” Releasing me, he pressed a button on the wall that made some blinds slide closed, then motioned me forward to an electric panel beside the tub. He started to explain what all the controls did—dimming the lights, changing the speed of the jets, adjusting the temperature.

  I stared at it, only half listening. I wouldn’t use any of those. I just wanted to sink into the tub and relax. But most of all, I wanted to forget. Forget everything I’d seen. And felt.

  He adjusted the lighting, turning off most of the lights except for two sconces, which glowed with an almost-real looking orange flicker of candlelight. It was so pretty. Relaxing. Romantic. Normal. I could get used to this. “Good?” he asked.

  I nodded numbly.

  “Want music?” He pointed to a button on the console.

  “Um, okay.”

  “What’s your poison?” He thought for a moment. “Lemme guess. Nineties pop?”

  I nodded sheepishly, a little amazed he still remembered what he’d once called my awful taste in music. He’d always been into Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and classic rock.

  He turned a dial to a channel called 90’s on 9 from Sirius Satellite Radio and immediately, Billy Idol’s Cradle of Love came on. This would do. I nodded.

  He rolled his eyes to the ceiling, grabbed a bunch of towels from a shelf and handed them to me. “Take your time. Stay in as long as you want. Let me know if you want anything.”

  Right then, I didn’t need the big tub, or the pretty view, or all the bubbles. I wanted him. I imagined myself, sliding in across from him, into the bubbles, resting my bare feet on his big, broad chest as he stroked my legs under the water, his callused fingers walking their way up my body. That sounded like heaven.

  Maybe that could make me believe in normal.

  But we’d been through so much. He was tired. He may have looked like he had it all together, but he’d just killed three men. He couldn’t simply forget that, could he? He may have talked a good game, but I refused to believe he was so hardened as to think killing people was a normal occurrence. No, he’d had to have felt that, in a deep place he never talked about. I bet he just wanted this day to end.

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  When he left, closing the doors behind him, I pulled off my clothes, thinking I’d have to burn them. I never wanted to wear them again. I turned to look at myself in the mirror. True to his name, Bruiser had given me bruises. Red welts were starting to pop out on my shoulders and neck, where he’d grabbed me. I leaned forward and traced the spot on my temple, where the gun had been. It was tender to the touch.

  I reached my toe into the frothing water. Perfect temperature. The tub was huge. I almost wished it was smaller. I hadn’t had a bath since I was a kid. I turned off the water, stepped inside the tub, and made myself comfortable. I immersed myself in the water, found soap, lathered, and washed. I dunked my head, shampooed, and rinsed until the water was covered with a film of suds.

  Then I rested my head against the sloped side of the tub.

  But I couldn’t close my eyes.

  Whenever I did, I saw Cullen kneeling there, with his hands behind his back, a hopeless position if ever there was one. I saw Bruiser, with the gun barrel pressed against his forehead, about to pull the trigger and end his life. We were so close to an outcome that would’ve destroyed everything I’d ever wanted.

  So I cried. I sobbed and sobbed until I was all cried out. Until there was not a tear left in my body to shed. If things had gone differently, I’d have been all alone. Ella would’ve grown up without a daddy.

  Suddenly, my blood ran cold. I sat up, shivering.

  I didn’t just want him there. I needed him there, with me, right now.

  “Cullen!” I cried, sitting up straighter, hugging myself.

  A moment later, he burst through the doors, wearing just his boxer briefs, a dazed, bleary look in his eyes, like he’d been sleeping. He probably had fallen asleep, considering Cullen could doze off in the drop of a hat. His eyes circled around the room, looking for the problem.

  I held up the washcloth shyly. “Sorry to bother you. But I don’t have anyone to do my back.”

  He let out a sigh of relief and extended his palm to me. “You asked the right person. Give it here.”

  He crouched down on the fluffy bathmat besides me, took the washcloth from me, and dipped it in the water.

  He hooked a finger toward me. “Come closer.”

  I moved from the lip of the tub, closer to him. He leaned over and started to run the cloth slowly over my back. I sighed, leaning into his touch. “You’re tense, baby. Relax.”

  I could feel the stiffness in my neck. Every part of me felt like it’d been wound tight. “How are you not? How can you just fall asleep after what we’ve been through? I don’t think I’m going to fall asleep ever again.”

  He shrugged and yawned. “I’m fucking tired.”

  “You’re filthy, too. But those men. They could’ve killed you. And you killed them.”

  He didn’t say anything for a long time. He just slowly worked the washcloth over my back. “Yeah.” He studied me for a little while. “Hell, Grace. I didn’t want to. You know I didn’t want to. But I couldn’t let them walk all over the Cobras. I don’t like that I had to do it. But I’d do it again in a second if it means I keep you safe.”

  “I know,” I said, and I felt such a rush of love for him that I couldn’t control myself. I reached for him, putting my hands on his bare chest. “You should come in here with me.”

  The corners of his lips twisted into a smile at my eagerness. “If you let me choose the music.”

  I didn’t even know the song that was playing now. I figured giving up my music was a small price to pay. I nodded and he flipped the switch to the Classic Rock station. Immediately, Pink Floyd emanated from the speakers above.

  My taste in music wasn’t as bad as he thought. Actually, I secretly loved the song that was playing.

  He stood up, slid off his briefs, while I watched, whatever fear I’d harbored slowly transforming to unbearable need. His body was all peaks and valleys, strong and tattooed and ripped. And that cock . . . it was masterful, a true work of art. How was it that every time I saw him, he only looked more beautiful?

  I moved forward as he stepped in, sliding into the tub behind me. I settled my ass between his legs. Then he pulled me back against him, and I felt his lips silently forming the lyrics to the song. I nestled my shoulder blades against the strong planes of his chest, letting his furnace-like warmth seep into me. His cock throbbed against the small of my back, growing between us.

  “You ever fucked in a bathtub?” he whispered into my wet hair as he wrapped his arms around my waist and hugged me close to him.

  I shook my head and leaned my wet hair back against his broad chest, feeling like, yes, this was heaven.
He grabbed the warm wet washcloth and scrubbed it across his face. The bubbles landing on his beard. God, what a beard. The man was pure sex. Pure, hot, agonizingly beautiful sex on a stick.

  He ran his hands across my stomach, tickling me lightly, his fingers moving in time to the song. Then he dipped his head forward and licked at my neck.

  “You’re about to.”

  I let out a laugh. “What happened to just relaxing and taking it easy?”

  “Later.” He sucked my earlobe gently into his mouth and ran his tongue over it. I wriggled against him slightly, feeling his cock, now huge and rock-hard, against my back.

  I turned my head, our gazes locking as I met his lips and kissed him softly. I pushed my tongue into his mouth, tangling with his, letting out a little moan. His body, so hard and ripped against mine, was perfect.

  “Yeah, good plan,” I said, when I tore my mouth from his. “We can definitely relax later.”

  I reached up with one hand and held his face while taking his tongue deeper, opening my mouth wider as the slick, wet sounds of our furious kissing filled the room. Under the water, I felt one hand slide down my tummy, brushing between my legs. He licked at my lips as he slowly inserted a finger inside me.

  It was good. My forehead fell against his shoulder. “Cullen . . .” And just like that, I came a little.

  The song ended. Another one came on, nothing I knew. Cullen did, though. I could tell from the way he moved in time to the beat.

  His other hand slid up and cupped my breast, the pad of his thumb slowly stroking my nipple. I squirmed on him and lifted my mouth to his, kissing his stubble-covered jaw as he stroked inside me, carefully inserting another finger. He lifted his mouth from mine and began kissing my neck, licking down to my shoulder.

  “What is this song?” I asked him.

  He chuckled a little. “Queen. Don’t Stop Me Now.”

  There was no way on Earth I was ever going to stop him. I tilted my pelvis, rocking on his hand, letting these sharp jolts of pleasure course through me with every stroke.

  How the hell he did this to me, I’d never know. But one moment I was fine, just a little turned on, and the next I was ravenous. Like he flipped a switch, and suddenly I wasn’t afraid, or worried, or even a little concerned. The fear went away, the need took over, and I couldn’t think of anything but him, him, him.