Cocky

by J.C. Valentine

  When he reached his study, Manuel closed and locked the door behind him before pouring a stiff drink from the collection of liquor bottles on the ornately carved credenza, and then seating himself behind the sprawling desk in the corner overlooking the expansive and immaculately tended lawns.

  Somewhere out there laid the decomposing body of his female predecessor.

  Interesting how such morbidity didn’t affect him as it would with most people. He’d grown immune to so much in his lifetime. Yet, the vision of his only child still rendered him virtually immobile. That was a weakness, and one he couldn’t afford to have or be known.

  Somehow, he was going to have to find a way to rectify that.

  nine

  “Apparently, Cricket here bonded with some chick over a tube of toothpaste.”

  Cricket shot Country a scathing look, and Country responded with a negligent shrug. “That wasn’t told to you so you could run around gossiping like a schoolgirl about it.”

  “But was it a secret?” Country challenged.

  “Well, no, but—”

  “Then who cares.” Country waved the brother off and took another long puff of his cigarette. Yeah, he was supposed to be quitting, since Red enforced the no-smoking policy inside the clubhouse walls rule because apparently, smoking wasn’t healthy for babies, children, or the women carrying the babies.

  Jesus, he felt like he was in a prison full of women instead of the badass biker clubhouse he’d joined. Any time he walked through the front door these days, he was nearly bowled over by the sweet smells of flowers and clean linens and fresh-baked desserts—he wasn’t complaining about that last one. A Southern man like himself took sweets very seriously.

  He was just hormonal or something. He blamed the influx of estrogen taking over the grounds. And hell, he wanted to be mad at the brothers for allowing it to go as far as it had, but he knew if his Talia was here, he wouldn’t have shit to say about anything.

  His world would be right as rain.

  Instead, his world was nothing but rain and dark clouds and thunderstorms. He hadn’t had a good day since…well, since she’d left.

  Imagine that, from a self-proclaimed forever bachelor to a man pining over the one that got away. Sometimes, he disgusted himself, but there was no denying that she’d done a number on him, and now he was walking around a shell of a man without her.

  “He’s got that faraway look again,” Moose grunted.

  “Probably thinking about his woman.” Quick responded with such pity, Country snapped right the hell out of his daze and glared at them all.

  “I don’t recall giving permission for any of you to discuss my personal life.”

  “As if I gave you permission to air mine?”

  Country rolled his eyes at Cricket. “Are you still harping about that?”

  “It was, like, five minutes ago!”

  “And it’s in the past now.” Country could practically see the steam coming from his brother’s ears. He kind of felt bad…but then he lit up a fresh cigarette, and all was right again. “So, I don’t know if y’all noticed, but there’s some new girl that’s been hanging around town lately.”

  “I think we established that already,” Quick pointed out.

  “Not the toothpaste girl,” Country corrected, “the one that’s been hanging around the bars, running up college boys’ tabs, making a general spectacle of herself.”

  “Oh, yeah, that one.” Quick nodded. “She’s Moose’s future sister-in-law.”

  Moose’s head snapped around so fast, Country was concerned he’d break his neck. “I ain’t getting married, prez, and I appreciate you not assigning me a life sentence without giving me due process first.”

  Quick smirked. “Brother, I know the look. You have your eye fixed on that girl. Soon, you’ll be wearing a band around your finger to match the rest of us.”

  “Hey, speak for yourself,” Country objected. “I ain’t marrying either.”

  “Only because your woman is off gallivanting around doing God knows what God knows where, and you’re too pussy to get on your bike and bring her ass back here,” Repo chastised. He scratched his ape fingers across his barrel chest and burped before continuing. “If Talia was my woman—”

  “She’s not,” Country growled.

  “I would have tracked her ass down and had her tied to my bed before she could touch a pinkie toe outside state lines.”

  Country remembered how the VP had done that exact thing to his woman, Red, when he’d first decided to put his claim on her. She’d always been a feisty one, and she hadn’t disappointed. She’d put up one hell of a fight, making the old man work hard for it, but in the end, he’d worn her down, and she’d agreed to wear his patch. Now they had a kid on the way.

  Country didn’t necessarily want kids, but he didn’t necessarily not want them either. If Talia hadn’t left, they might very well could be just like the rest of these sorry losers sitting around the table with him drinking beers and shooting the shit on a Saturday night.

  Instead of hand-selecting a new tail to take back their bed for the night like they used to do.

  Then again, they could have it anytime they wanted now. They didn’t have to shop around, bait hooks, cast their lines into the water, and hope something nibbled.

  Who was he kidding? He wasn’t even doing that. He just hated going home to an empty apartment and sleeping in an empty bed.

  “Well,” Country told Repo, trying not to reveal to everyone just how miserable he truly was, “that’s not how it works in my relationship.”

  “What relationship, man?” Repo tossed back, making Country’s hackles rise. “She straight-up left your ass high and dry, and all you do now is sit around pining for her when she’s probably out there right now getting plowed by some dude named Brad with a buzz cut and a badge. You need to let that shit go and find a chick to bury your troubles in until they ain’t troubles anymore.”

  “Look, I appreciate the pep talk, but I’m not in the mood—”

  “He’s got a point,” Quick cut in. “You can’t keep going on forever like this. It’s got you checked out most days. It’s obvious you’re not sleeping, and you’re reckless, which, in the field, ain’t good for anyone. We need you back, brother. Not just physically, but mentally too.”

  “You don’t understand—”

  “I understand perfectly,” Quick interrupted him again. “You lost the woman you love, and it’s fucked you up. But it’s not a death sentence. There was a time I thought Jody was my beginning and end”—they all shuddered—“but once I pulled my head out of my ass and realized that life went on and I had more important things to concern myself with, shit got better.”

  “It’s different for you,” Country argued. “You had a kid to keep you going, and then you found a good woman who stepped right in and put all the puzzle pieces together.”

  “And that shit didn’t happen overnight. I had to put myself together first, then the rest followed.”

  “The universe has a way of working things out,” Cricket offered. “Usually when you’re not looking and when you least expect it.”

  Stubbing out his half-burned cigarette, Country drank down the three-quarter-full stein in front of him and stood. “Look, I appreciate what y’all are trying to do here, but like I said, my life ain’t up for discussion.”

  “You’re leaving?” Quick asked, surprised and a touch hurt or…something. Maybe that was regret Country saw in his eyes. Or he was hallucinating.

  “Yeah, like you pointed out, I haven’t been sleeping much lately. I need my beauty rest.” He flipped his hand up in a semblance of a wave to the guys as he started walking, not looking back and completely ignoring their voices calling after him to get his ass back to his chair and hang out.

  He wasn’t in the mood.

  Outside, he threw a leg over his bike—the only woman in his life right now, and the most reliable—and fired her up. She purred beneath him, the low rumble vibrating betwe
en his thighs reminding him of the serenity of the open road. When was the last time he took a trip, alone, just to enjoy the solitude?

  He couldn’t remember.

  As he sped down the road, he considered the open skies above and leaving all of this behind started sounding better and better by the second. When his apartment complex peeked out of the darkness ahead, he considered blowing right by it and just driving, no stopping, not for anything.

  Instead, he turned into the parking lot and rolled to a stop in the spot reserved for him. Parked next to him was Talia’s bike. He’d had it made specially for her, tricked out and top-of-the-line everything. She’d left it as easily as she had him, hadn’t she? As if she didn’t want to have any reminders of their time together.

  Man, his chest hurt like a motherfucker. When would that feeling go away? Ever? He didn’t think he could live the rest of his life with that knife-twisting pain in his chest.

  Maybe Repo was right. Maybe he needed to get back on the wagon and bury that shit. Sometimes that was what it took, just getting back in the game, distracting yourself until the rest faded into a distant memory—one without the power to cripple you with the changing of the wind.

  Suddenly, he wanted to punch something. To scream and shout and create a scene. Lifting his foot, he slammed it into the other bike and watched the heavy machine topple over onto its side. Metal crunched and a couple tiny pieces broke off and scattered on the asphalt.

  It didn’t make him feel any better.

  Staring dispassionately, Country shook his head and cranked the engine on his own bike again, then backed it up and turned it toward the street. Then, with no particular destination in mind, he rode the hell out of there.

  ten

  A wave of icy cold water connected dead center with his right eye, and Moose squeezed his eyes shut while scrubbing the butt of his palm over it to get rid of the uncomfortable, shrinking, burning sensation.

  “Damnit, woman,” he growled, “you’re gonna pay for that.”

  “Oooh I’m so scared,” Angel taunted, throwing another load of water at him.

  When he’d woken up this morning with a woody the size of Nebraska, he’d had nothing more on his mind than getting over to her place and getting inside her, but the ride over had been so nice, he couldn’t stand the idea of being cooped up indoors another minute. So when he’d arrived on her doorstep early and unexpected, finding Mouse still in her Hello Kitty pjs and her hair a mess, he’d told her to get her bikini and a towel and meet him outside.

  She hadn’t been too happy being woken up nor him throwing his weight around, but she was getting used to it. Shooting him the stink eye, she’d left the door hanging open as she turned and disappeared back into the apartment.

  Ten minutes later, she was on the back of his bike in a pair of tiny jean shorts and a white tank top with the florescent pink and yellow bikini top strings peeking out the top with her sexy legs on the outside of his where he could reach down and touch them anytime he wanted, and her hot body fit snug up against his back. Every bump on the long stretch of highway heading to the beach bounced his favorite parts of hers, increasing his need for her more and more by the mile.

  But as much as he wanted her, Moose wanted to test the theory that they might have more between them than just sex.

  As much as he enjoyed it and wanted it every second of the day, the idea of giving her his patch was a serious one, and he needed to make sure that there was some substance to their relationship before he made such a huge commitment.

  If he did. He was bouncing back and forth with that decision more than a kid on a pogo stick.

  The problem was, even if Moose hadn’t been entertaining the idea of making things between them more permanent, Angel was pretty fucking awesome. He couldn’t be around her without smiling, and they were always laughing about something. And when they weren’t laughing, they were having amazing, world-shaking sex. Plus, she was hot as hell and just as smart.

  What wasn’t there to like?

  Clearing his eyes, Moose dug his toes into the mud and trudged through the water, his intense focus right on her. Angel wasn’t getting away, and he knew just how he was going to make her pay.

  “Whoa now, big man,” she said, palms held out in front of her as she tried to bounce backward away from him, each bob revealing her water-slicked breasts and pointed nipples that made his dick harder than the wall of rock that hid them from prying eyes in three directions.

  “You play with fire, Mouse, and now you’re about to get burned.” When she was within arm’s reach, he lunged, and she screamed.

  Falling back into the water in her haste to get away from him, she went under before reappearing a second later, her feet slipping out from under her and giving him a leg up.

  Moose was on her fine ass before she could get any traction. Banding an arm around her narrow waist, he fisted her wet hair and held her head tight, immobile. Those wild, green eyes stared up at him, daring him to keep going.

  God, he loved when she looked at him like that. It’s how he knew for certain she was with him every step of the way, felt the same burning desire for him that he felt for her tearing him up inside.

  “I want you, Kade,” she confessed, her voice breathy.

  A smile grew on his face, and Kade flexed his hips, letting her feel the raging erection between them that demanded attention. “Ditto, Mouse. Now give me those lips.”

  He didn’t wait for permission before diving in and claiming them. Moose wasn’t gentle or loving. Every touch, every lick was hard and bruising, leaving his mark. Angel wasn’t any less gentle. She met his force with equal ferocity, and he knew he would leave there with marks too.

  He wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Moose liked seeing evidence of where she’d been on his body. He liked the scratches and the bruises from her nails and teeth. Lesser men would want to tame her, and there was a time he would have said he’d prefer a sweet, docile little thing too. He’d thought he’d found just that when he’d met Angel, but she’d shocked the shit out of him when she turned out to be the complete opposite.

  His mouse was a true lady in the streets and freak in the bed.

  Best of both worlds, if you asked him.

  As they nipped and grabbed at each other, Moose worked his way toward land, fighting the current, until the gravity pulled at his legs as the buoyancy of the water left them, and he dropped to his knees on the shoreline and laid Angel on her back beneath him.

  Water lapped around their heated bodies, gentle and cool, as the sun above offered its warmth from above. Moose didn’t bother with getting naked. Not in a public place where someone might venture along and see something that would send him flying right off the cliff’s edge of sanity.

  He was an asshole, yes, but the last thing he would do is compromise his lady.

  His own ass was a different story.

  Tugging his sopping-wet swim trunks down, he let his bare, white ass work on catching up on its tan. Working his hand between them, he hooked a finger in the crotch of her suit bottoms and pulled them aside to make room for him.

  His cock jutted forward, finding her slick center without any guidance, and he pushed it into her wet heat without preamble.

  “Oh, God,” Angel moaned, breaking their kiss and arching back, her face tilted skyward as he plunged in deep. “That feels so good.”

  “Good isn’t what I’m going for,” Moose informed her. Guiding one of her legs up closer to her chest, he fit his arm behind her knee, giving him the perfect angle…and then he didn’t hold back.

  “Oh! God!” she shouted this time as he bottomed out and started pounding away. Her nails bit into his shoulders, the leg she had around his thigh turning into a vice as her whole body clenched down hard around him, desperate to hold on.

  “You like that, baby?” he grunted, already beginning to feel his balls tighten. “You like how I fuck you?”

  “Yes! Yes! Harder. Fuck me harder,” she be
gged, and he did.

  Her pussy flooded his shaft with wetness, easing the path, but it wasn’t enough. The closer he got to coming, the more his dick swelled, creating friction that was too damn good. She felt like a fist, gripping him tighter and tighter. But that wasn’t enough for him. He knew just how good she felt when she came around him, and Moose wasn’t spilling a drop until she did it.

  “Come for me, Mouse. I want to feel that pussy squeezing me.”

  She panted and screwed her eyes shut, her moans growing louder and longer and he pushed her closer to the edge.

  “I’m going to come,” he warned her.

  “Yes,” she hissed, sounding almost desperate. “Do it. Come in me.”

  Fuck, he loved coming inside of her. She got even wilder when he did as if the idea of him filling her with his seed turned her on more than she already was.

  “No, baby. You don’t get a drop from me unless you take it.” Rearing up, he grabbed both of her thighs and dragged her ass up to meet his still-thrusting hips. She looked up at him, eyes glistening in the summer sun, hands grasping for purchase in the sand. “Are you going to take it?” he asked.

  She bit her bottom lip, nodding as she averted her eyes to where they were joined. He followed her gaze, and seeing himself get sucked up by her greedy pussy undid him.

  “Fuck,” he snarled as his balls drew up tight and his cock pulsed. The feeling was compounded when he felt her walls clamp down around him, flexing and releasing, milking him, demanding everything he had to give.

  When he was drained dry, Moose eased her legs down and sagged back on his heels, his head reclining on his shoulders while he fought to catch his breath. Reluctantly, his cock withdrew from Angel’s body and with barely enough energy left to move his arms, Moose tucked himself back into his shorts and crawled up beside her and collapsed into the warm, soft sand.

  “You almost made a liar out of me,” he accused.

  Her half-snort, half-laugh met his ears and brought out his own smile. “Next time,” she swore as she rolled onto her side and into his waiting arms.