Steel Cobras MC Complete Box Set: Books 1-6

by Evie Monroe

  I nodded, reaching for my jeans. I stepped into them and when I pulled them up over my hips and started to fasten them I realized her eyes were glued to my body. She quickly averted them when I said, “Not by yourself. I can take you there. How about some breakfast first?”

  “Okay. You don’t have to but thank you.”

  Ten minutes later, she was back in that little blue number with the matching heels, her hair pulled up in a ponytail. She was pretty quiet as she sipped her coffee and ate a piece of toast. I offered some cereal, all I had in the way of food, besides toast, but she refused, so we were ready to go pretty quick. I studied her, then took off my leather jacket and handed it to her. “Wear this.”

  She looked down at herself. “Why?”

  I motioned her toward the open window, then pointed to the carport below. “See that bike?”

  Her jaw dropped. “Oh. You mean, you don’t have a car?”

  I shook my head.

  She put the jacket on and hugged it to her body, swimming in it. “Do I need a helmet?”

  “Yep.” I’d gone through my closet and found a helmet I’d had from an old girlfriend. I handed it to her, and I strapped mine on as we walked outside, into the bright California sunshine.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever ridden on a motorcycle before,” she said when we got close to it. She was staring at it like it was a unicorn or some fantastic beast. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

  “Totally safe.” I motioned her close to me, fit the helmet over her head and helped tighten the strap. She was breathing hard, her chest going in and out like a scared rabbit. “On you go.”

  She lifted her leg carefully, straddling the machine. “I’m not sure about this.”

  I shook my head, stunned by the sight of this gorgeous woman on my bike. Maybe she didn’t think she belonged there. Maybe she didn’t belong there. But she looked fucking hot. I straddled the bike, and she wrapped her arms around my waist.

  We hadn’t even moved before she was pressing up tight against me, her strong thighs against me, her tits pushed up to my back.

  I knew I could get used to this.

  “I don’t know if I can do this!” she squealed as the bike roared to life under us.

  “Yeah, you can,” I called back. “Cypress isn’t far away. You’ll love it.”

  I peeled out of the lot and she squeezed me tighter, her hands moving under my jacket, clinging hard to my chest. She lived only a few miles away, mostly down country roads, just enough to give her a taste. She held me close, probably afraid she’d fall off. But damn, the heat of her body against mine, as we rode along the coast, the ocean breeze in our hair...I didn’t think I’d ever had a more perfect ride.

  We pulled down Cypress and I slowed to find the right number. Turned out, it was a small development of condos, white stucco walls with orange terra cotta roofs. I pulled into the lot across from her front door. “Home sweet home,” I said over my shoulder.

  She was still holding me tight. It took her a full ten seconds to realize we’d stopped. I wasn’t going to pry her hands off my body, though. They felt too damn good.

  When I looked back at her, she had her eyes closed, her face buried in my back. “Hey.”

  She looked up, blinking. “Oh, my God,” she said, looking around as if she was surprised to still be alive. “That was...exciting. I’d say the most exciting thing I’ve ever done, well, that I know of.”

  I helped her off the bike, and she removed the helmet herself. She took a step toward the front door and frowned. “I don’t remember this place at all.”

  I motioned her forward. “Come on.”

  She took one step, and stopped. “Oh no,” she said, reaching for her bag. “I don’t have the key. I think I must have lost it when . . .”

  I held up a hand, strode up to the door, and took a small metal pick I always carried on my person for such occasions. Holding it up to her, I said, “Watch and learn.”

  Her eyes widened as she watched me jiggle the handle, moving the clip around in the lock until I heard the catch release. I smiled at her as I easily pushed the door open.

  “See, sometimes it pays to know a criminal.”

  She looked scared, like she wanted to say something, but didn’t. I peeked my head in, making sure the coast was clear, and then let her in.

  And yes, once again it was clear how divergent our lives were. Her apartment was all white—white sofas, fixtures, carpeting. It looked like a cloud. Everything matched. There was crystal everywhere. She walked inside, touching things here and there.

  I could tell from the way her frown deepened that she couldn’t remember any of it.

  She paused at a photograph on the wall. It was the same one I’d seen of her online—her in that leotard, her long leg kicked up in the air.

  “I’m. . . I’m a dancer?” she asked me, as if I had all the answers.

  Studying the picture, she kicked off her shoes. Holding onto the wall, she easily lifted herself onto her toe, raising her leg up, imitating the picture.

  She frowned, and did a graceful spin, her hands floating at her sides. “I guess I am a dancer.”

  I’d never been into that ballet shit. Never thought I would be. But when she did that, I was into her. Deeply. In a way I’d never felt in my life.

  I coughed. “That’s good.”

  Her condo was immense. She peeked in each room as if seeing it for the first time. It was just room after room of pristine white furniture. So big, I had to wonder if she lived there alone. There were only a couple more pictures, all of her. No trace of a man, a boyfriend.

  When we entered the bedroom and went to a massive walk-in closet, I didn’t see any men’s clothes at all.

  I didn’t know why I was glad about that.

  She struggled to take an overnight bag down from the top of the closet, but I easily grabbed it and set it on her bed. She walked around as if shopping, tapping her finger to her lips.

  None of it looked familiar to her.

  “Well, that was a big waste,” she said when she was done. “I thought being home would help. But it didn’t.”

  “It might help. I’ve heard of these things, Olivia,” I said. “One day, you might see something, and it’ll bring everything crashing back. You just don’t know what will do it. But it’ll happen.”

  “I hope,” she sighed, as I took her bag and hefted it onto my shoulder.

  “You know what we should do,” I told her when we were back on my bike. “We should go back to where it happened.”

  She shook her head doubtfully. “I don’t...where did it happen?”

  “Pacific Acres. The country club.”

  “The...am I a member of the club?” she asked.

  “Your father is. I think you might have been meeting him there.”

  Her brow wrinkled, and she didn’t speak for a few minutes. Finally, she wrapped her arms around me and buried her face in my back, her arms once again under my jacket, caressing my chest. “All right. Let’s go.”

  The country club was on the other side of Aveline Bay. We made it there just around noon, when a lot of golfers were coming back to the clubhouse from the golf course, old men in terrible pants with too much money. I thought she’d look at this and remember. It only made sense, since it was the last thing she’d witnessed before the attack.

  I came to a stop outside the big fountain in front of the entrance. There was one valet there, an older man, this time. He eyed me like a piece of trash. Used to that, I ignored it.

  “Well?” I said, as she slipped off my bike and looked around.

  She was already shaking her head.

  “Come on,” I said to her, leading her toward the parking garage. The valet was looking at me with a sneer. I told him, “I’ll just be a second. My girl thinks she lost something.”

  “Your girl?” She asked with a raised eyebrow as she followed me.

  I shrugged, “Don’t think he bought that excuse.”

  “What do you
mean?”

  “Because in case you didn’t realize kid, you and I aren’t exactly peanut butter and jelly,” I said as I jogged with her into the shade of the building and navigated us up to space number ten, where the Mercedes had been parked two nights ago. I hadn’t planned on coming back here quite so soon, especially since the club probably had camera footage of that night.

  But this needed to be done.

  Olivia spun around the garage as two men in ugly pants walked past us, giving me the eye like I was trying to kidnap her. “You all right, miss?” one of them called.

  “She’s fine,” I muttered, watching her face. She vised her head in her hands and I could almost see her heart beating out of her chest.

  Shit. She didn’t recognize any of this.

  “I’d like to hear that from the lady,” the younger of the two men said. They stopped and watched her. Actually, they watched me. One reached into his pocket, retrieving a cell phone.

  Olivia didn’t answer. Her chest was heaving now, in full-on panic mode.

  All right. Abort mission. “Come on, Olivia,” I said under my breath, tugging on the sleeve of her jacket.

  Tears slid down her cheeks. “Oh, no. No, no, no!” she cried. “Why is this happening to me?”

  “Yes, I think we have a situation here,” I heard the man say into his phone.

  “Olivia, let’s go,” I muttered, grabbing her by the elbow now and leading her away from the men. I tried to walk fast, but she dragged her feet, lost deep within herself.

  It was enough time for the youngest man to follow us. “Hey, I don’t think you should be—”

  In a split-second, I rounded on him and shoved him hard. “Hang up,” I commanded.

  He and the other guy stared at me, wide-eyed. He looked at the phone. “No. You need too—”

  He never finished because I punched him square in the jaw. He reeled backwards, falling flat on the ground, and his phone went skittering across the concrete and under a car. The guy was out like a light. The other man backed up, hands raised in a plea for his life. Under the car, the operator’s voice droned on.

  Olivia stood there, a dazed expression on her face. I grabbed onto her hand, yanking her down the ramp, until she finally got the picture and we broke into run.

  I couldn’t get the helmet on Olivia fast enough. I knew the cops would be on their way and we hopped on the bike and screeched out of the parking lot. I’d never ridden that fast. We made it to my apartment and it was only when we were safe inside and I’d locked the door that I doubled over, breathing hard. What a fucking cluster-fuck that had been.

  Olivia paced around the apartment, shell-shocked. “Oh, God. What if I never get my memory back?” she asked me.

  Slowly, my breathing returned to normal. I scrubbed my hand over my face. That wasn’t the first time I’d been looked at like I was a piece of trash, but it was the first time it’d bothered me. Fucking douchebags. “You could’ve told them I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” I muttered.

  She blinked. “What?”

  “That’s what they thought. That I was a scumbag trying to fuck with you or something.”

  Her eyes filled with confusion and she began to wring her hands. “They did?”

  “Duh. Think about it. That’s the only way you’d ever see the two of us together. Isn’t that what you thought? That I’m a low-life who was going to—you know what? Never mind.”

  I threw up my hands. I’d never given a shit about any of this before. Why now? It bothered me that it bothered me. This girl had lost all of her memory and had been fucking kidnapped and here I was, crying like a pussy.

  “Well,” she mumbled. “You steal cars.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t…I wouldn’t.” I stopped. I guessed it was all the same, when it boiled down to it. “Forget it.”

  She’d slumped into a chair, her face streaked with tears. She dropped her bag to the floor and buried her face in her hands. She looked small and helpless. I didn’t know what she was doing to me, but I felt for her. I wanted to make it all better.

  “Hey,” I said, leaning my shoulder against the wall. “You want a bath?”

  She looked up. “What?”

  “I know, this place is shit compared to what you’re used to. But one thing it does have is a tub. A fucking—I’m sorry—a freaking huge tub. I can even get lost in it. You game?”

  “Um...” She sniffed. Then she nodded. “All right.”

  Just then, my phone buzzed with a text from Cullen.

  Church. Now.

  Something must be up. Cullen didn’t often call church on the fly like that, especially on a Saturday afternoon. I pocketed the phone, went into the bathroom, and ran the water in the giant claw-foot tub.

  I turned to see Olivia standing in the doorway, looking as helpless as a lost lamb, her cheeks red, eyes swollen.

  “Get your ass in here and soak until your skin wrinkles up. I bet all your memories come back,” I told her.

  She nodded, “Okay.”

  I knew that once I’d left she’d strip naked and slide her gorgeous dancer’s body into my tub. I’d have given anything to see it, those pretty, pale pink tits that probably had pale, barely-there nipples. Her tight waist, perfect, heart-shaped ass. I could’ve had a wet dream just thinking about her. I backed away. Don’t think about her, asshole.

  “I gotta go to church, but I swear you’ll have a religious experience of your own in this tub.”

  Her eyes snapped to mine, and she lifted her hands on reflex, as if reaching for me. I would’ve loved for her to touch me, but she stopped herself. “You’re leaving?”

  The thought of staying here and watching her climb her pretty body into my tub tugged at me, but I never missed church. “Don’t worry. You’ll be safe here.”

  Then she came up close to me, stood on her tip toes, and gave me a soft kiss on the side of my cheek. “Thanks, Nix,” she said, her eyes watery.

  “For what?” I asked gruffly.

  “For taking care of me. For taking me places and trying to help me get my memories back. It means a lot.”

  I grunted a “forget about it” and went to the door, head down. She wouldn’t have been thanking me if she knew what I was thinking.

  Chapter Six

  Olivia

  At the door, I looked up at Phoenix. At his full lips, his dark brown eyes and lashes—he had ridiculously long lashes. For someone with such a rugged exterior, he actually had very pretty features. A face I could stare at all day.

  His eyes locked on mine, oozing absolute control and arrogance. He ran one of his callused fingers down my cheek. He had grease embedded in his fingernails, but I didn’t mind him touching me. In fact, my whole body leaned into it, tilting toward him like a flower to the sun.

  With a low grumble of a voice, he said, “Lock the door behind me, Liv. Okay?”

  Liv. I couldn’t remember anyone calling me that but I liked the way he said it, low and thick and grumbly.

  I nodded and then did as ordered. I wanted to do more than kiss him on the cheek. I wanted to cling to him, to wrap his arms around me, hold his strong, muscled body against mine. I didn’t know why, because I barely knew him, but I knew I’d feel safe there.

  But there was something else.

  Something about him pushed all of my buttons in exactly the right way. He was cut. I’d practically drooled all over him when I’d caught him without his shirt on earlier that morning. He must’ve worked out big-time, because he had massive biceps under that snake tattoo, and a perfect six-pack. He was big, and manly, and badass.

  It was enough to have me permanently licking my lips in his presence, wanting a taste of him.

  Yes, he could protect me, but I got this very dirty feeling that he could also satisfy my other needs, as well.

  He excited me.

  Which made me wonder what my sex life had been like before. Something told me it was nothing like Nix. Probably clean-shaven men in fancy suits: doctors or attorneys or stoc
kbrokers. Maybe back then, that was what I’d thought I wanted.

  Maybe whatever circles I was traveling in never had me coming near a tough, badass, manly man like Nix.

  I wondered if Michael Anderson kept me in a pure-white, ivory apartment, locking me away from all the big bad wolves.

  If only I could remember, but Nix? Nix was a whole lot more exciting.

  I went back into the bathroom and continued to run the water, swirling my hand in it to check the temperature. It was a huge tub. I imagined Nix, sliding his chiseled, naked body down into it.

  I imagined myself, sliding in across from him, into a sea of bubbles, resting my bare feet on his big, broad chest as he stroked my legs under the water, his rough fingers walking their way up my body, teasing me.

  He probably liked sex rough, hard. At least, that was what everything about him screamed. But the way he’d been with me? Soft, gentle, understanding. It made me want him all the more.

  He probably had no trouble when it came to sex. I bet he could just walk into a bar and the women would line up for him.

  Unzipping the blue romper, I let it fall to the ground and stepped out of it. I pulled off my panties and turned to look at myself in the mirror. The bruises on my legs and arms were starting to yellow at the edges.

  But I did have a dancer’s body. The soreness was beginning to subside, and my muscles seemed to want to move, to sway. I lifted my arms in an arch over my head.

  Then I wondered what Nix’s big, callused hands would feel like, warm and rough, molding their way over my body.

  I moaned at the thought. I knew I wasn’t supposed to think such things. I probably was nothing like the type of woman he found attractive or sexy. That woman would be wild, self-assured, scantily clad, and have a few tattoos herself. He probably saw me as a little sister.

  I turned off the water, stepped inside the tub, and made myself comfortable. I scooped water over my body, found soap and hair products, lathered, and washed. I dunked my head, running shampoo through it and then conditioner. Then, I laid back against the smooth porcelain, took a washcloth from the edge of the tub, and draped it over my eyes.