Sydney Storm MC Complete Series

by Levine, Nina

  I raised a brow. “Is this the alcohol talking or do you talk to all men this way?”

  She ignored that question. “So, do you have much experience?”

  I gripped her waist and moved her away from me. “Can’t say I do.”

  “I figured. It’s a damn shame you’re not into dating. But I’m taking a break anyway, apparently. If you listen to my mother and Tatum. They think shoes can make up for cock. Pfft. That’s what women with cock in their life say. Us singles girls would give up shoes in a heartbeat.”

  I stared at her, no clue what she was going on about. But then, that seemed to be how most of this conversation was going down. “Okay, let’s get you inside.”

  She placed a hand on her hip. “You trying to tell me to stop talking?”

  I chuckled. “I doubt any man could tell you that and get away with it.”

  My answer seemed to work for her. She finally turned, unlocked the door and entered her house. I followed close behind, steadying her when she stumbled. We walked the short distance to her kitchen where she threw her bag on the counter, kicked off her shoes, and poured herself a drink of water.

  Eyeing me, she said, “What are you doing here? We never did cover that.”

  It had surprised me that she’d allowed me into her home so easily, but I figured her drunken state had a lot to do with that decision.

  “King sent me to ask you about the guy you work with and who he gets his drugs from.”

  “You think I know that kind of information? I don’t do drugs, so I’m not up on who the drug dealers are in this town.”

  It was what I’d suspected and had said as much to King. “Yeah, I figured. I’ll need to talk with your guy tomorrow. You know where I’ll be able to find him?”

  “He’s working.” She reached for one of the pens she had stashed in a mug on the counter, and a piece of paper. Scribbling an address down, she said, “He’ll be here from about nine until three.”

  I took the paper when she offered it to me. “You good from here?”

  She smiled and cocked her head. “You offering to help me some more?”

  I was far from a fucking saint, but taking advantage of drunk women wasn’t something I did. Even when that was all I wanted to do. “I think it’d be best if I didn’t help you too much tonight.”

  She continued to watch me with appreciation. “You sure do know how to make a woman feel good. I’ll let you off the hook since you appear hell-bent on not touching me. But let the record show that I may not let you walk away a second time if, say, you were to show up here again.”

  Jesus, it had been a long fucking time since I’d wanted to flirt with a woman rather than simply fucking her. I pushed off from the counter I was leaning against. “Is that an invitation?”

  She shrugged drunkenly. Her body moved with an easy and natural sexiness that sucked me right in. Even when she was intoxicated and not trying to be sexy, she fucking was. “I’ll leave that up to you.”

  Not a smart move. If shit were up to me, I’d be back to fuck her tomorrow. But with all her talk of dating, I figured Monroe was probably looking for a relationship rather than what I had to offer. And again, for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to chance disappointing a woman.

  Chapter 8

  Monroe

  “You wishing you hadn’t had all those drinks last night yet?” Fox asked me as I dropped my head into my hands and groaned for about the hundredth time. Well a hundred was an exaggeration, but not by much.

  I cracked an eye open to look at him but didn’t lift my head. It hurt too much to move, so I restricted that to only when it was absolutely necessary. “You think if I promised God I’d clean up my act, he’d wipe this headache?”

  “You don’t believe in God.”

  “Just because I don’t go to church, doesn’t mean I don’t believe.”

  He glanced towards the front door of the shop as a guy entered. “You reckon you’ve got it in you to clean up your act, Roe? Like, I don’t see that happening at all.”

  He was right. I didn’t. But a girl could pretend.

  I straightened because we had a customer. Thank God for Fox—he’d opened up this morning and had taken care of almost all the customers so that I could rest and feel sorry for myself over how damn hung-over and sick I was.

  “You okay on your own for a bit while I do this tat?” Fox asked after chatting with the guy about what he wanted.

  “Yeah.” I didn’t even have it in me to talk much. Everything I did or said exacerbated the headache.

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “You sure? It looks like you’re getting worse rather than better.”

  I waved him away. “It’s a slow day. I’ll be fine.”

  With some hesitation, he left me, and I sighed with relief as I settled into the chair we had at the front counter and rested my head again. The day had been a waste. I’d achieved none of my goals, but at that point, I didn’t have it in me to care.

  Fifteen minutes later, my headache eased a little thanks to the silence. I was beginning to drift off to sleep when a deep voice rumbled, “How’s that head, sugar?”

  I’d know that voice anywhere. It was the voice of sin and sex. Well, at least, that was what it made me want to do. However, it was also the voice of danger, and it set alarm bells ringing all over the place. Hyde was a biker and best to avoid when it came to sex.

  Without lifting my head, I mumbled, “How do you think?”

  His chuckle filled the room, and I cursed him silently for being so damn sexy. “Gotta say, I’m surprised to see you here. Figured you’d stay home and sleep it off.”

  I was beginning to wish I had, too, as my memory reminded me of what I’d said to him last night. Not to mention the fact I’d fallen on my ass and stumbled all over the place. Sure, I was a woman who liked to flirt with men, but I usually refrained from doing that with men who could bring trouble into my life. It was okay to have Storm around in the form of Nitro, but I didn’t want to invite one of them into my life on a regular basis. And yet, I’d pretty much invited him to pop on by for a quickie when he was next in the neighbourhood.

  Reluctantly, I met his gaze. The heat I found there caused my legs to squeeze together. Shit. “Look, about last night, I was so drunk I hardly remember any of it, but I do remember you helping me into my house. Thank you for that.” I prayed hard that he’d let me off the hook and not bring up anything I’d said to him.

  His eyes firmly held mine, but his face gave nothing away. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Finally, though, he nodded. “No worries.” Then, glancing around the shop, he said, “Is your workmate in?”

  I could have kissed him for not pushing the point. But, kissing him was off the table. Must remember that. “Yeah, but he’s with a customer. He’ll be a while. I could get him to call you when he’s finished.”

  Those dark eyes of his found mine again. With a shake of his head, he said, “No, I need to speak to him now.”

  I lifted a brow. God these bikers could be pushy. Nitro sure as hell was, and it seemed Hyde had the same bossy streak. “So when I said he’s busy, I meant he can’t speak with you now.”

  “I won’t be long.” With that, he walked away from the counter and towards where Fox was working.

  Oh no he didn’t.

  “Hey, this is my business, dude. And when I say that one of my staff members is busy working and can’t see you, I mean it. So back the fuck up and turn your ass around.” My headache returned full force, which only made me crankier. I wasn’t sure exactly what caused me to snap at him, but it was probably the fact I felt so ill combined with the fact that it annoyed me when men didn’t listen to me.

  He came to an abrupt halt and turned to face me. The heat in his gaze had disappeared completely. In its place was a dark expression that, along with the hard set of his shoulders, told me I’d pissed him off. Well, fuck him. He was the one in the wrong here. Not me.

  Taking a step towards me, h
e said in a low voice, “You care to repeat that?”

  I crossed my arms in front of me. “No, not really. I’m fairly certain you heard what I said.”

  “I heard it, but I didn’t fucking like it.”

  “Do I look like I care whether you liked it?” This conversation was going downhill at a rapid rate of knots.

  “You should care.”

  “Yeah, so I’ve heard. But I’ve had a long day and am in too much pain to even think about caring. All that matters to me at this point is that my guy finishes the tattoo he’s working on and that my customer is happy with the work. I’ve got bills coming out of my ass, so I kinda need the cash from that job so I can pay them. You barging in there demanding Fox’s time could piss my customer off, which may mean I can’t pay my bills. You see where I’m coming from?”

  He watched me in silence for a few moments. I couldn’t tell if he was calming down or getting more worked up. He still looked angry, but his body language told another story.

  Just when I was beginning to settle in to go another round with him, he said, “I’ll leave my number. Get him to call me.”

  “God, could you be any more bossy?” I muttered before stalking back to the front counter. Locating a pen and paper, I shoved them at him when he joined me there, and said, “And just so we’re clear on something, that invitation to come back to my place for sex no longer stands.”

  I couldn’t be sure, but I would have sworn he almost smiled. He jotted down his number as he said, “I see you remember something from last night.”

  I snatched the paper from him when he was done. “It just came back to me, so I wanted you to know I’m actually not interested. It was all that damn alcohol I drank that made me say shit I didn’t mean.”

  Resting his hands on the counter, he leant over it so our faces were close. “Just so you know, that vibrator of yours has got nothing on my cock.” He tapped the piece of paper with his number on it. “You change your mind, you use that.”

  Without another word, he exited my shop, and I stared after him, unable to process the thoughts rushing through my mind. He had me so worked up and so damn confused. On the one hand, I never wanted to see him again. The absolute nerve of him to come to my business and try to tell me how things were going to go down. But on the other hand, the man was hot as hell, and I was more attracted to him than any man I’d met in a long time.

  I looked up at the roof, towards the heavens.

  Why God?

  Why is the only man I want to sleep with a moody asshole?

  Chapter 9

  Hyde

  Women.

  Fuck.

  Dealing with them was fast becoming the norm in my life. And after all these years of not having to deal with them, it was doing my fucking head in.

  For what felt like the fiftieth fucking time that day, I checked my phone for a text from Tenille. It had been over twenty-four hours since I’d left Melbourne, and I was yet to hear from her. My natural instinct was to call and demand to know what was happening with Charlie, but the rational side of me won out, so I shoved my phone back into my pocket and blew out a long, frustrated breath.

  “Fucking women,” I muttered under my breath. I was sitting at the bar in the clubhouse waiting for King. Being mid-afternoon Thursday, it wasn’t busy, but the few guys there were fucking noisy. I turned to face them and called out, “Can you assholes keep the fucking noise down?”

  They scowled at me. I wasn’t anyone’s favourite person, but at least when I wanted something it was usually given. As they quietened, I turned back to my drink and took a swig, my eyes meeting Kree’s.

  “Rough day?”

  I didn’t like many people. Not easily, anyway. But Kree was someone I did like. Probably because she knew when to involve herself in something and when to back off. She was smart as hell, too, a trait I valued in a person.

  I drained my glass, the second whisky I’d had that afternoon after returning from Monroe’s shop. “Tell me something, Kree. You’ve got kids, right?”

  She stopped what she was doing and put down the glasses she was clearing away. Kree had this way of giving her full attention when she had a conversation. You knew she was fully in it, and that was another thing I liked about her. “Yes.”

  “If you had a teen daughter who hadn’t seen her father since she was a toddler, how do you think she’d take the news that he was back?”

  “My daughter is only young, so I have no experience with teens yet, but I can tell you how I reacted when my dad came back into my life when I was fifteen. I desperately wanted him around, but he’d walked out on us when I was five, so I was angry with him. Ten years without him built enough anger to cause some explosive fights. And fifteen was an age where I liked to express my anger a lot. So I took it out on him.” She rested her elbows on the bar and leant closer to me. “I’ll tell you this, though—if he’d been man enough to stick that anger out, I would have forgiven him and accepted him. But he didn’t. We haven’t seen each other since.”

  “And your mum? How did she deal with all that?”

  She straightened. “She hated him more than I did, so it wasn’t pretty. Maybe if she hadn’t shared that anger with me, it might have been different with my dad. I may not have been so mad at him. But at the end of the day, my father was a weak man. A child—especially a teen—needs strength from their parents.” She paused for a beat before adding, “I presume we’re talking about your daughter here. You show her even a fraction of the grit I’ve seen in you, and you’ll get through to her. But you may need to curb that temper of yours. Teens don’t respond well to your kind of impatience and moods.”

  I gripped the empty glass in front of me and then slid it towards her. A headache screamed at me, and I did my best to ignore it. Depending on what King had on my agenda for the rest of the day, whisky would do the trick.

  Kree took the glass. “The same?”

  I nodded, and she left me to my thoughts. It was only a few moments, though, before I was interrupted.

  “You get anything out of Monroe?”

  I glanced up to find King taking a seat next to me. He jerked his chin at Kree, indicating he wanted a drink, and then looked back at me.

  Did I get anything out of Monroe? The answer to that was nothing but hell, and a hard-on that she’d never wrap her lips around. She’d fired up at me fast earlier and given me a tongue-lashing that had tripped my own temper. The surprise in it all, though, was that she’d managed to ease my mood swing almost as fast. That wasn’t something that happened often, if ever.

  I’d had a foul temper for as long as I could remember. Apparently it ran in my family. Over the years, I’d just accepted it, but it had dragged me into some shitty situations. Tenille and I had spent half our marriage fighting over shit because of our temper clashes, and I often found myself in fights I usually refused to back down from with my brothers. Backing down wasn’t in my personality, so it had surprised me when I did so with Monroe.

  “She’s a fucking handful, King, but yeah, her guy called me this afternoon and gave me some info. Not sure that it’s useful, though. Turns out the kid he buys the drugs from has a dad who forces him to sell them. I’ve got his address, but he’s out of town for a few days. Fox thinks he’ll be back either Saturday or Sunday.”

  “Get one of the prospects to watch the address and let us know when he returns. I talked with Max James and Calvin Ryan today. Neither seems to know anything about Jacko’s murder. I would have thought if anyone would know something, it’d be one of them. Whoever is behind this, is keeping a low fucking profile.” Max and Calvin had their fingers in a lot of pies. It surprised me, too, that they didn’t know anything.

  King’s phone rang, and he was silent for a few moments while he listened to what was being said. His face morphed into a scowl before he said, “Let him in. I’ll deal with him.” After he had shoved his phone back in his pocket, he said, “Ryland’s here. Wants a chat.”

  “Has Bronze
heard any more about the investigation?” The last I knew, he was having trouble digging up any info for us as to what Ryland had on the club. Unusual for Bronze, which made me think the feds were working hard to keep shit under wraps.

  King shook his head. “Haven’t heard from him for days. I’ll call him after I hear what Ryland has to say.”

  The detective entered the bar, drawing our attention to him. King’s body tensed as he watched Ryland walk towards us. With everything going on in the club and with Jen, he was wound tighter than I’d ever seen him.

  “Ryland,” King greeted him, “What the fuck do you want now? I’d have thought keeping your eyes on me twenty-four-fucking-seven would be enough for you.”

  Ryland was good at his job. I’d give him that. His face remained blank, not registering any reaction to what King said. “I thought we had a deal, King.”

  “I don’t make deals with cops.”

  “Yeah well, you did with this one.” He waited for King to reply, but when King simply stared at him in silence, he added, “I want your guys off Gambarro.”

  King crossed his arms. “No.”

  Ryland’s carefully controlled composure finally cracked a little. “No? You do realise what will happen to you if you don’t comply, right?”

  King’s jaw clenched. “How about you waste your breath and tell me again.”

  Ryland stepped closer to King in what appeared to be an effort to intimidate him. He shouldn’t have bothered; nothing intimidated King. It would only piss him off more than he already was. “You’re playing with fire here, King. You remove the men you’ve got watching Gambarro, otherwise I’ll be stepping up my investigation of your club. And I think we both know how that will end up. I’ll also find a way to take over the investigation of Jacko’s murder, which will only increase my surveillance of your members.”

  King’s nostrils flared as he looked at Ryland with every ounce of contempt he felt towards the man. I didn’t know what had happened to King when he was younger, but I would have put money on him having an altercation with the cops, because I didn’t know anyone to hate them as much as he did. “You do whatever the fuck you have to, Ryland, and leave me to do whatever the fuck I need to. Investigate the shit out of Storm. You won’t find anything that others haven’t been able to find over the years. But let me be crystal fucking clear—you’re the one playing with fire here, not me. And when that fire gets hotter than you ever realised it could, you’ll be wishing you never knew me or threatened me.”