Cocky Biker: A Stand Alone MC Romance Novel (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 2) Read Free

my meal. The residue of these exchanges builds a solid zing in my bloodstream.
    Best scrambled eggs I’ve had in a while.
    As I nibble and savor the final sliver of crispy bacon, Grey Eyes spreads strawberry jam on toast and looks at me with caution like he knows the end is coming.
    “Why do I get the feeling you’re treating me like a bird you don’t want to scare off?”
    In the same private volume I used, he answers, “Because you’re perceptive.” After a charged pause where neither of us can look away, he whispers, “I’d say more cat than bird. You’ve got secrets, Sunshine. I like that.”
    How the fuck can he tell that just by looking at me?
    “It was uncomfortable meeting you.” I grab my pack, take one last sip of coffee, then get out of the booth and walk away.
    It’s been a long time since a man woke my body up this way. I am damp and ready for things I don’t have time for.
    Don’t look back, Luna.
    Don’t do it.
    But I can’t help myself.
    Stealing a glance behind me, I discover him turned around in the booth, unashamedly watching me leave. Those amazing eyes of his lazily drift up from checking out my ass, and the look in them pulses a response back from my poor, neglected pussy.
    I’m almost to the door when I loudly tell him, and the whole diner, “Never gonna happen!” 
    The cocky fuck smiles.

Jett
    A s I stroll back to the Ciphers, Scratch informs me as if I don’t already know, “That body would drop any man to his knees.”
    I give his shoulder a solid smack. “I know it’s tough but keep your eyes off her. She’s mine.”
    Honey Badger chuckles deep and rumbly as all four of them watch me head out the door to chase her down. I’m not letting a woman like that get away until I’m done with her.
    Squinting against the Southern California sun, I search for the feral beauty. The parking lot has the same unimpressive cars in it as when we rode up.
    Out of habit, I do a quick scan of our Harleys as I pass them for the sidewalk, to make sure no one’s been dumb enough to fuck with ‘em. No sign they’ve been touched. So I stroll past purple Bougainvillea bushes growing up a fence on the property behind the diner, and discover gold.
    There she is walking up Coldwater Canyon.
    Her sweet, round ass is ticking from side to side as though to say time is running out, buddy.
    She made some distance. On foot. So she doesn’t have a car.
    I’ve got a ride I can give her.
    “Hey!” I shout up the street. Her shoulders stiffen, but she doesn’t slow down.
    She’s gonna make me chase her.
    That I can do.
    My boots hit the ground heavily as I break into a run. I don’t slow until I’ve reached her side.
    “You’re wasting your time,” she growls.
    “What’s your name?”
    Silence.
    We walk a ways longer, toward Moorpark. There’s an Arco on the left and I make mental note, checking my memory for when we gassed up last. It was in Pomona. We’re still good.
    Since she hasn’t given me her name, I offer mine. “I’m Jett.”
    “Good for you.”
    Chuckling, I run in front to make her stop walking.
    Truth is, I shouldn’t be messin’ with this kitty.
    We came for a dangerous and tricky job.
    But we don’t back down. Ever.
    So now I’ve got two missions, and one is staring at me with fiery deep brown eyes in caramel skin, with lips I need to feel on me in so many places.
    She runs a hand through long black locks. She smells dusty – the shampoo smell faded days ago.
    So…she probably doesn’t live nearby.
    Not with how dirty she looks.
    What’s her story?
    I bet her pussy tastes nice and ripe. I don’t mind that at all. I love all the flavors.
    “Look buddy,” she snarls, and means it. “The only reason you don’t have your balls kicked into your neck is because you lack the rapist vibe. But ‘persistent prick’ will get you there, too, if you don’t let me pass. This warning is me being nice.”
    She’s got no accent. If I hadn’t heard her speak ever, I’d