Steel Cobras MC Complete Box Set: Books 1-6

by Evie Monroe

  “Lead the way.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nora

  When I woke up the next morning, my head was swimming.

  Not only that, my muscles were sore as hell. The man had fucked me into oblivion.

  I’d known from the moment I spied Jet’s magnificent body that he probably put the women he fucked through an epic workout. I had no idea how epic, though. He worked parts of me I didn’t know existed, and the strange thing was, I loved every minute of it. Every bite on my skin, every hard suck on my nipples, every scrape of his stubble against my chin, every exquisite bit of pain and pleasure had only made me want more, closer, harder, faster.

  And the second I left him to start another day at work, I felt like I had a hole inside me that was growing bigger, the farther away from Jet I walked.

  I thought of turning back and saying fuck it to the job I’d been working toward my entire life. Instead of seeing it as my passion, I saw it now as nothing but a nuisance, a barrier keeping me from the man I wanted.

  When I walked through the revolving doors of the hospital, past the police on alert for the Fury, I groaned.

  Only ten hours to go.

  I went to my locker in the doctor’s lounge, shrugged on my white lab coat, and got myself a cup of coffee. Then I checked the clock at the nurses’ station, thinking of the way Jet had grinned up at me wickedly as he speared his tongue between my pussy lips, driving me into the center of oblivion.

  Only nine hours and fifty-eight minutes until I could get back to him. He’d managed to charge his phone last night and had seemed bummed that the other Cobras hadn’t texted him. We’d exchanged phone numbers, so we could text each other if anything came up during the day. He’d seemed genuinely worried about me when I left him in bed. I’d kissed him, my hair veiling his face, and he’d snaked a hand around my waist, running it up my blouse and squeezing my breast.

  “You text me if anything happens,” he said, his eyes tender and soft.

  I shivered, touched that he cared. “Nothing will happen.”

  “Then text me just to tell me you’re thinking of me.”

  As I stood at the nurses’ station, listening to Dr. Vail report on the patients who’d come into to the ER during the night, I found my hand wrapped around my phone in my pocket. The urge to contact Jet was so overpowering, I peeked at it before Dr. Vail had even finished speaking.

  As I did, the phone vibrated and lit up with a text. From Jet. Hey sweetheart. Miss me?

  My whole body buzzed. My legs turned to jelly, much like he’d made me feel last night. I smiled dreamily, thinking of the way we’d christened that kitchen. Michael would most definitely not approve. But everything Jet did was just so damn . . . yummy. Hot. Delicious. He made me just want to be with him, to see what he’d do next.

  Someone cleared his throat, drawing me out of my reverie.

  I blinked and saw Dr. Vail. It suddenly occurred to me what I’d done. He’d been going over the night’s caseload with me, and here I was, gazing at my phone.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, pretending I had a call. “I have to take this.”

  He scoffed as I rushed to the back of the nurse’s station and typed in: Like crazy.

  Everything ok there?

  I looked around, noting two uniformed officers through the windows. Yes, police on duty. No sign of the Fury. I think it’s safe.

  Good.

  I thought he’d finished, so I started to put my phone back in my pocket. I needed to get back to Dr. Vail and our patients. But then I saw the three dots, indicating Jet was writing something, so I paused, waiting. When I saw it, I went instantly wet between the legs.

  So what’ll it take to make you come at work?

  All I really needed was him. But I knew that there was no way he could show up at the hospital. And I didn’t really get a lunch break. But God, right then, I was ravenous. I wanted to come so bad. He’d made me into a sex-crazed maniac. I typed in: What do you mean?

  I was breathing hard, trying to act nonchalant as nurses and other medical personnel buzzed efficiently around me. I sat at a workstation, crossing and uncrossing my legs. My panties were beyond soaked, and my nipples started to protrude through my sweater when I read: I have this fantasy of you locking yourself in a room somewhere in that big hospital, stripping down to nothing but your coat and stethoscope, and touching yourself until you come, thinking of me.

  I looked around, my face heating. You do?

  Yeah. Can I call you?

  I saw Dr. Vail standing there, still waiting for me so he could finish up his rundown on the rest of the patients. I saw all the nurses and doctors busy tending to patient care. And yet . . . all I could think about was Jet. It was like he’d blocked every sane thought out of my head. I texted, One minute.

  Then I went out to Dr. Vail and the team.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked as I touched my hot face.

  I fanned it, my breathing coming raspy, my voice strained. “I’m not feeling so well, right now. I might be coming down with something. I think I might just go somewhere to rest . . .”

  I moved past him, not waiting for a response, and walked aimlessly toward the doctor’s lounge. But that wouldn’t work; doctors always running in an out. Thinking quickly, I pressed on the elevator button and stepped inside. I rode up to the next floor and peered out. This floor appeared rather empty. Still fanning my face, I walked to the end of the hall, where I saw an empty hospital room. Looking up and down the hallway and spotting no one, I quickly went inside and closed and locked the door, then drew the blinds.

  Just then, my phone began to ring. I lifted it up. “Hi.”

  “Hey, sweetheart. Where are you?”

  I slipped off my white coat and looked around in the darkness. “A room on the seventh floor. I’m alone. The door’s locked.”

  He chuckled. “Are you telling me you’re gonna make my dream come true?”

  I took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I. . . if I’m going to do it, I have to do it quickly, before I lose my nerve.”

  “All right, listen. Take off your clothes. Everything but the coat and stethoscope.”

  I gnawed on my lip. “I don’t have a stethoscope on me.”

  “All right. Minor detail. Just pretend.”

  I laughed quietly as I slipped out of my shoes, then pulled the blouse off. “Jet, this is so stupid. It’s like how many more ways can I possibly dance on the borderline of getting fired?”

  “You naked yet?”

  “Getting there.” I let my skirt fall to my feet, then pulled off my panties and unhooked my bra. I grabbed my coat and slipped it on. “Okay.”

  “Yeah? All right, good. You got a hospital bed, there? Get on it.”

  I slid onto the hospital bed, holding the phone between my shoulder and ear. The cool air hit my naked body parts, and I shivered, thinking that this was my place of my work. But God, even his voice made me hungry. I needed this release like I needed the air I breathed.

  “Okay, what do I do now?”

  “You’re doing it? You’re on the bed?”

  “Yes. Do you want a picture?”

  “Fuck yes.”

  I’d never done this before. Never had a man who’d entertain such a thing. I didn’t even need to ask Michael to know he’d flip with anger over the idea. But Jet brought out the reckless side of me. He made me feel sexy.

  I fluffed my hair and lifted the phone, positioning it above me as I lay back on the bed. I made sure to keep my naughty bits covered by my hair and the coat, but it was clear from the photo that I was just as he wanted. Minus the stethoscope, of course. I snapped the picture, then, satisfied at the result, sent it to him.

  “Happy?”

  “Jesus. Yes.”

  I smiled at the tortured tone in his voice because it echoed just what I was feeling inside. I thought about all his delicious parts—his abundant, corded muscles, the rise of his pectorals, that sweet little dog tattoo on his ar
m, and that cock of his.

  God, that cock.

  I simply couldn’t think like a doctor where his body parts were concerned. Sanely, objectively, clinically. Uh, no. He was just too yummy. And now that I’d seen what that magnificent body could do, and more importantly, what it could do to me . . . there was no going back.

  I’d never look at Jetson Nash as a patient again.

  I’d never be able to look at him without wanting him to fuck me.

  Again, my whole body swarmed with shivers. I leaned back on the bed, facing the ceiling, just imagining him and his cock inside me. “So, now what?”

  “I have plenty of ideas for you, sweetheart.”

  I laughed nervously. “You know, this is absolutely the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”

  “That’s ‘cause you ain’t lived, yet,” he said. “It’s my mission to get you to let it all hang out. Live a little.”

  I shivered with excitement and pushed up onto the bed, and my hand instinctively found its way between my legs. I didn’t make a habit of masturbating; in fact, I was usually much too busy to even think about it. But now, hearing his voice vibrating inside me, gravelly, and yet somehow soft and sensual as silk, I wanted to. If I didn’t, I’d burst.

  I’d just touched my clit when a page came over the loudspeaker. “Dr. Benson, please report to Emergency. Dr. Benson, Emergency.”

  I jumped up. “Dammit!” I whispered.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, shit! They’re paging me! There must be a trauma patient! I’m supposed to be—oh, I’m supposed to be down in Emergency!”

  “All right, sweetheart,” he said as I pulled the phone away from my ear. “Go on. Thanks for the picture.”

  And the line went dead.

  My feet hit the cold linoleum in a rush and I fell to my knees, seeking out my discarded clothes. As I threw on my blouse and skirt, it suddenly hit me just how ridiculous I was being. I was supposed to be working. Saving lives. And here I was, nearly naked and horny in my place of employment. Jeopardizing lives. Someone could be dying downstairs for all I knew.

  Holy God, how far had I fallen? What had this guy done to me?

  I dressed haphazardly in the dark, then flew out of the room and ran for the elevator, pushing the button as fast as I could to get to Emergency on the first floor. When I got there, the place was in chaos.

  “What happened?” I asked a nurse, shocked at the staff running from room to room and the knots of EMTs and nurses huddled around a few stretchers as more wheeled in.

  “Couple of GSWs,” one of the EMTs said to me. His hands were covered in blood.

  I broke into action, rushing into triage and washing my hands. When I turned, I nearly charged head-first into Michael. “There you are,” he said, taking me by the arms. “Are you all right?”

  I tried to wiggle out. “Fine. I just had a headache. I was lying down in the doctor’s lounge for a little bit.”

  His face fell. “I just came from the lounge. I didn’t see you there.”

  I shrugged. “Well, I was. You must have missed me.”

  “I called you, you know. Several times. Last night.”

  I knew that, too. I had at least ten missed calls from him. No messages. He was always too busy to leave a message. “Sorry, I’ve been busy,” I said, finally shaking him free and starting to rush into the fray.

  “Doctor?” His voice was so sharp it made me jump.

  I whirled. “What?” My voice came out as breathless and annoyed.

  He pointed to his chest. “You may want to . . .”

  I realized that he was signaling to my own chest. I looked down and realized I’d missed a few buttons on my blouse. I quickly buttoned them up. “Thank you,” I said stiffly.

  When I saw what I had to deal with, it was like my father all over again. One of the men had been shot in the heart. He survived only long enough to be intubated, and after that, he flatlined, and we weren’t able to bring him back. The other man was luckier. He had only taken a bullet to the thigh, but the bone had shattered. His screams filled the hospital, even as we clamped the oxygen mask over his mouth. He kept wildly punching at anyone who came near him. By the time we’d removed the bone fragments, set the bone, and repaired the damage, I felt like I’d been on a battlefield.

  As they wheeled the patient into the ICU, I ripped off my mask, hair covering, and latex gloves and slumped against the wall. “Great job, doctor,” one of the nurses said to me.

  I couldn’t even smile.

  I didn’t feel great. Not in the least. People were dying and what had I been doing? Acting like some irresponsible horny teenager. And for what? To lose everything I’d ever worked for?

  I must be crazy. I had promised myself, the moment my father died, that I’d never put myself in the position to feel such heartbreak again. No more motorcycle clubs, thugs, bikers, bad boys or whatever they were called, ever again. I barely knew Jet. I’d only known him for like four days, and yet, he’d turned my world upside down. Where I used to be the good girl, now I was a wild child. And it was all because of him.

  I was falling for him.

  No, scratch that. I’d already fallen.

  And I needed to pull myself out of this stupidity. If I didn’t, I’d only face more heartbreak. More pain. More agony. And I couldn’t bear that.

  I forced back tears. I’d never cried at work, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. I pulled off the blood-spattered surgical apron and stuffed it in the garbage, then walked outside, trying to breathe air that wasn’t tinged with the smell of blood or antiseptic.

  As I did, one of the nurses stopped me. “Dr. Benson,” she said. “Dr. Vaughn asked if you’d please check in with him at the doctor’s lounge when you finished surgery.”

  I swallowed, feeling a noose tightening around my neck. I owed Michael Vaughn a lot for everything he’d done to advance my career, the least of which was an explanation. But what was I doing letting someone like Jet tell me how to talk to my former fiancé? Obviously, if I was so easily swayed by someone else, Michael wasn’t the right man for me. I needed to be direct and tell him it was truly over. But Jet?

  Jet wasn’t right for me, either.

  I was just too blinded by lust and the appeal of a badass to realize that.

  “Thank you,” I said to the nurse, then went to the lounge. When I got there, the room was empty except for Michael, who was sleeping on one of the cots. I’d seen on the board that he’d had an even busier week than usual. He’d had very little breathing room. He was snoring a little, in the same, soft way that used to comfort me whenever I’d sleep beside him.

  I felt a stab of pain in my heart. He was a good man. He’d always looked out for me. He deserved a better woman than I was.

  I turned away, half-glad that I wouldn’t have to have this conversation with him now. I wanted to get it over with, but I was too exhausted. And I didn’t want to hurt him.

  By the time I lifted my phone from my pocket, I realized it was after three in the afternoon, and I’d had a few texts from Jet.

  The first one made me smile and almost forget about Jet not being right for me. I can’t stop staring at that pic of you.

  The second one made me shake my head with annoyance. Going out for a bit. My brothers need me for a job.

  What kind of job? What exactly did they do? Knowing the things my father had been involved in, it probably wasn’t legal. I bet it was dangerous as well. Plus, hadn’t his doctor—um, me— expressly told him he needed to stay in bed and rest for at least the next week? Evisceration was still a definite possibility if he hit things too hard.

  Of course, I hadn’t cared about that when he was pumping into me last night. He’d tested his injury out pretty well, and the staples had held just fine.

  I guessed he was fine.

  Still, I didn’t want him leaving my house.

  I wanted him home when I got back, to welcome me.

  For the last time, he’s not right
for you! I reminded myself as I went to finish my rounds. It’s a good thing he won’t be there when you get home.

  My head understood that, but try telling that to every other part of my body I thought. I dreaded going back to an empty house and the boxes that were waiting for me. I really did need to stop living out of them, but it just made me want to go avoid them all the more.

  I quickly typed in: Will you come back? Then I erased it, because it sounded so pathetic.

  But what if he didn’t come back? What if this was over? What if he’d used me for what he wanted from me, and now I was just another notch in his belt?

  Good, my head said. My heart screamed, No. No. No!!!

  I finished my rounds, and my shift was over. I finished filling in the staff on the rest of the patients, then started to walk back toward the doctor’s lounge to get my things. As I was heading down the hallway, I heard a noise coming from one of the unoccupied rooms across the hall. I peeked my head inside, wondering if the hospital had mice, and as I reached for the switch to turn the lights on, a hand grabbed me, yanking me inside.

  I fell forward into pitch blackness, the forward motion of my body slamming me against a wall of muscle. Hands wrapped around my wrists as the door closed behind me, and I was pushed up against the wall. The stench of cigarettes and taco breath hit me hard. I yelped as a big, callused hand clamped over my mouth.

  “Hey, sweet thing,” a voice said into my ear as I trembled. “We know you.”

  It was the Fury. Somehow, they’d gotten inside. A cold shot of fear raced up my spine as another voice—how many were there? —hissed, “Yeah. You’re the bitch who got Nash out of the hospital the other night.”

  Muscles tense, I tried to move, but they held me there impossibly tight. A hand came up over my breasts, circling my throat. I started to gag as he said, “Is Jet Nash plowing you? I don’t believe it. That kid has charm. I don’t think there’s a single girl in town he missed.”

  The other man laughed. “Ain’t that the truth. That shithead’s legendary. Women see him coming, they start droppin’ their panties from miles away.”