Cocky Biker: A Stand Alone MC Romance Novel (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 2) (20 page)

W
ANTED
: Roommate. Two-bdrm, one-bath in Old Fourth Ward near the Beltline. Yeah, this is the coolest neighborhood in Atlanta but no douche-bags allowed. And no hipsters pretending they’re loners who are really clingy, needy, insecure fuckers, allowed. No starving-artists who think money’s evil allowed. It’s not evil. Stop pretending you don’t want it.

Must pay your fucking bills on time.

Must fill the shoes of my younger brother.

Good luck with that. He just enlisted in the Marines and is gonna be a hero. Not many like him and I doubt you’re one of the few.

If this didn’t scare you off, write me, but I’m not promising anything.

I don’t need a roommate. I just want one.

* * *

W
ow
. Okay. So
that
happened. And I must have reread it a thousands times wondering why I was drawn to
this
listing above all the others. But did I really have to ask? How could I pass that blunt honesty up? It’s like a fresh lemonade shower on a July afternoon after what I’ve been through.

Also, I’m running out of options.

Finding a roommate has proven harder than I expected. I can’t take another sleepless night at Bernie’s.

Most of the Craigslist posts are fake, which is disgusting. Apparently they’re designed to lure naïve, small-town people like myself in with gorgeous photography and crazy-cheap rent. I
almost
gave my bank account
and
social security to a couple scammers before I even saw the places, because that’s what they asked for. At first I was confused but thought,
Well, if this is how they do it here in Atlanta, then…

Before I hit the send button, thank God my instincts told me not to reveal my private financials to a complete, sight-unseen stranger. Can you believe I never heard from them again, when I told them I wanted to see the apartment first? Jerks. If there is a scammer-hell, I hope they rot in it.

At least
this
guy seems real.

It doesn’t bother me that he sounds like an asshole.

Not at all.

At least he doesn’t try to hide
his
asshole-ness like Edward did. He was so charming that it took many years for me to realize my husband couldn’t be trusted.

Correction: soon to be EX-husband.

It’s not just that I’m not proud of how I’ve lived a sheltered life… I
dislike
that I have. But it is what it is. I can’t change the past, but I sure as hellfire can change my future! Sweet baby Jesus, smile on me now!

Hmmm. Nice building. Intricate crown-molding on the ceilings. Maybe used to be a hotel? From the brick exterior and decades of layered paint, I’d say this was built in the 1920’s. Just imagine the gorgeous dresses that must have strolled through here! Look at this winding staircase! Oh, I love it!

Oh, I hope he likes me.

I wish these heels weren’t so loud. The dark, hardwood floors are beautiful but they sure do alert someone you’re coming.

Truth be told I was surprised when he responded. I’d said little in my email.

* * *

Hi. I’d love to see the place. I can never replace your younger brother, but I’m very grateful to him for serving our good country. I’m responsible, and not needy. I don’t know what a douche is, so I hope I’m not that. Just looking for a place I can afford because I have to get out of where I am. Please, if you’ve read this far, give me a shot. Thanks, Drew.

* * *

T
hat’s
the best I could offer — just say my truth and hope it’s enough. I don’t know any other way. Not one that works, anyhow.

This is it. Apartment 11. First floor.

Oh lordie, am I nervous!

Here goes.

Knock knock knock.

The door opens and I nearly spit out my gum. In an effort not to, I swallow it.

Starin’ back at me is hands-down the most gorgeous man I’ve seen up close and personal. Dark brown eyes sparkling with confusion take me in as I stare at him in speechless shock.

I am not aware of it, but my mouth is wide open.

Stunned. Flabbergasted. Beside myself. I am all of these.

If this is Jake Cocker, I can’t live here.

He’s wearing nothin’ but a white towel. It’s normal-sized, not one of those bath sheets. My point is, it barely covers him so pretty much
all
of his gorgeous, tanned, and chiseled-to-perfection body is on display. To make matters so much worse, sweet-smelling beads of water are takin’ languid strolls down his chest muscles. Gaping at him, I follow their happy journey down that amazing row of ab-mountains between hips so narrow even my sweet old Nana would imagine wrapping her legs around them.

I bite my lip, trying to remember my own name.

With one hand, he shakes his wet hair out and asks, as beads of water spray around his head, “You lost or something?”

I start to sweat. His voice is so deep my panties turn to moist ash and then vanish completely.

Dammit, he just asked you something!

Speak, Drew!

Say somethin
’!

“Hello?” He cocks his head to the side. “Can I help you?”

You sure can.

I straighten my inexpensive purse on my nervous shoulder and clear my throat. “Jake Cocker?”

His frown deepens and he blinks a couple times, crossing his arms. Brutish hands fold over his biceps.

“Yeah. I’m Jake.” Now he’s curious.

I can tell by how his baby browns swiftly travel down the blouse my momma bought for my twenty-ninth birthday when I’d flirted with the idea of gettin’ a job of my own, rather than listening to Edward and waiting for him to give me what he promised. I should have followed that inspiration. I didn’t. But it’s never too late…is it? I hope not.

Jake’s appraisal doesn’t stop at my blouse. He slowly makes his way down my tan skirt and stops at my matching short heels.

I suddenly realize by his expression that I’m dressed for a job interview, conservative and proper. I must look like an old lady to this hunk. He can’t be more than twenty-three and probably has fake tits thrust into his face all hours of the night. I must look like a Jehovah’s Witness person passing pamphlets from door to door.

Oh, why didn’t I borrow something of Bernie’s? Her entire wardrobe is sexy.

“Oh!” he says, a dawning awareness making him smile. “You’re Matt’s new wife! Sorry, I figured he’d come
with
you for the introduction.”

“Umm…Matt?”

Jake stares at me, eyes narrowing. “Landlord?”

“Oh! No, I’m not your landlord’s new wife. I answered your ad for the roommate. I might be early.”
I’m right on time, but the whole wearing only a towel thing is throwing me.
“It looks like I interrupted your hot shower. I mean…I don’t know how warm it was. I wasn’t in it or anything.”
Stop it! Get a hold of yourself.
“What I mean to say is that I’m sorry if I’m early. I’m Drew! Drew Charles.”

He is staring at me like horses just flew out of my ears.

“We emailed each other?” I add, hoping that rings a bell.

He sucks on his teeth. “Drew’s a boy’s name.”

“Nope. Girls have it, too. Drew Barrymore?” I add, reminding him.

But his ego isn’t happy that I apparently ‘pulled one over on him.’

“You have two boys’ names,” he says in an accusing tone.

“Yeah, well, I’m not a boy.”

Jake’s eyes drift to my blouse again. “By how your nips turned pebble-hard when I opened the door, I can see that. Even through a padded bra, too. Impressed.”

“Oh my God,” I breathe in surprise as fire shoots out the top of my head. “Jake Cocker. You’re somethin’ else.”

“Yes, I am.” He flashes a smirk that has the devil behind it, and uncrosses his arms. One of his thick hands falls a little faster and harder than it was meant to. The towel unlatches, drifting to the ground with a soft thump.

He is now bared to me in all his glory.

And he doesn’t move to cover himself.

“Oops,” he says.

Keep your eyes up, Drew! Keep them up.

I am so stunned I’m trembling.

He’s just staring at me with a challenge, though Lord only knows why he would do such a thing to a stranger, and to a woman.

This person is no gentleman.

“Excuse me, but what are you doin’?” My peripherals are blocked by my will to not succumb to this game he’s playing. “Are you darin’ me to look at your penis?”

“Something wrong?” he asks, all innocence. “Oh, did my towel fall?”

I
so
want to look.

My curves are tenser than a whore’s in church.

We say nothing for a few hot moments. It’s an out and out staring contest. I break first, blinking quickly and demanding, “You gonna get that?”

A naughty smirk deepens on him. “Get
this
?”

The gorgeous bastard goes and grabs himself! Shocked as all get out, my gaze drops despite my best efforts. He’s got a good hold of himself. His hand is not moving -- it’s just offering the monster to me like a waiter with a dessert tray. We have cherry cheesecake, brownie sundaes…or this cock. Which would you like this afternoon?

His manhood’s mushroom-shaped tip has a couple veiny inches of length exposed because his big hand can’t even cover him all the way. Jake Cocker is fucking enormous. Guess I should have known from his name.

Damn if my heart isn’t beating loud enough for both of us to hear!

I can’t look away. “I would appreciate it if you picked up the towel and covered yourself like a gentleman.”

“I’m mostly covered now.”

Still can’t look up. “With your own hand, sir.”

“Yep.”

I yank my eyes up to meet his. I’m livid. He’s stunning. But he’s also such an incredible asshole I can hardly believe I haven’t run off and told him where he can stick that thing.

“This is unacceptable.”

“Agreed. My point exactly,
Ms. Drew Charles.
” He said my name like I’m his teacher or something. “Now you know…” He dips down and swipes the towel from the floor, making no move to cover himself. “…why I need to live with a man.”

“So, you’re tellin’ me you’re gay. I don’t have a problem with that.”