Cocky Fiancé

by T. L Smith

“Details...”

  “Rebekah wants to meet up.”

  Slate’s eyes widened. “What could she possibly want to discuss?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t do it,” he warned. “It could be an ambush.”

  “I don’t know,” I continued. “I kind of feel sorry for her.”

  When Slate arched his brows in question, I told him how I caught Roman and the redhead going at it in the barrel shed.

  “No. Fucking. Way!”

  “Yes, way.”

  It was the strangest thing. Rebekah had happily gone behind my back and slept with my fiancé, caring nothing for my feelings. And now that the same thing was happening to her, I should feel some sort of comeuppance. But I didn’t. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling being cheated on, and I wouldn’t even wish it on someone who’d hurt me so badly.

  “Avoid at all costs. You’ve already been involved in all that shit before. You don’t need to walk straight back into it.”

  “I won’t, but I do have a question.”

  “Shoot,” he said, unpausing the movie.

  “Who is this redhead suddenly appearing everywhere I—”

  Beside me, my cell trills to life, startling me mid-sentence. Hawk’s name flashed on the screen.

  “Probably calling to get his ring back,” Slate said indifferently, returning his focus to the movie.

  I let it ring out, but shortly after the first ring ends, it started for the second time.

  “Are you gonna answer that, or should I? ‘Cause you’re interrupting my movie.”

  Slate reached for the phone, but I pounced on it before he had a chance.

  “I got it,” I said more urgently than I should have. Standing, I walked into the kitchen and pressed accept. “Good morning,” I said, putting on my office voice and not the office voice from last night.

  “Indeed, it is, Britta.” His gravelly tone created an ache between my legs. “Britta,” he continued, “I’m two seconds from coming over so I can spank your ass.”

  “Why?” I asked, wishing Slate would leave and Hawk could follow through on his promise.

  “You have something of mine.”

  I looked down at my ring finger. “I’ll bring it to work tomorrow.”

  “Today, Britta,” he enforced.

  “Okay. I need sleep first.”

  “I have a bed.”

  “No,” I said, turning away from the sofa and whispering, “I need my own.”

  “If you say so...”

  “Britta,” Slate’s voice startled me. I turned to face him, his keys dangling from his fingers. “I’m heading out to get some beer, want some?”

  “Is that Slate?” Hawk asked.

  “Yes,” I responded, and Slate interpreted it as his answer.

  “Don’t be long, Britta,” Hawk warned. “I’m not waiting for long.

  Chapter 12

  Hawk

  Britta never made it to my place, and now I’m outside her apartment.

  I didn’t care for the ring, in the sense of getting it back. I knew Britta would look after it. What I did need, however, were the keys to my office. In her haste of leaving my apartment last night, she packed my set of building keys. And now I was here to retrieve them.

  As I went to knock, the door was pulled open. Slate was on the other side shrugging on his jacket and hopefully preparing to leave.

  “Hey, man,” he greeted with a smile. “Britta just passed out on the couch.”

  I look past him to see her snuggled up in front of the TV. “You here for your ring.”

  “More so for my keys,” I half lied. He didn’t need to know the other reason why I was here.

  “Cool. I’ll leave you to lock up? I gotta go see...” he hesitated before continuing, and it struck me as odd. “Yep, you can lock up for me. Catch you later, bro.”

  I stared at him as he walked down the hall. It seemed we both had secrets to keep.

  “Later,” I said almost to myself before I turned my attention back to Britta. She didn’t stir when I walked in, and I couldn’t help but feel somewhat of a creeper. Spotting my keys on the bench, I pocketed them and then walked to where she was sleeping. She had a slight snore, and it was cute as fuck.

  “Britta,” I called gently, but she didn’t stir. Reaching for the remote on the coffee table, I turned the TV off and then hooked my arms under her body and started carrying her into her bedroom. She moaned, her weary eyes opening. She dropped her head against my chest, and I smiled.

  “What’s happening?” she mumbled.

  “Your neck was at an awful angle on the sofa.”

  “Mmm,” she moaned again. “Where’s Slate?” I lowered Britta onto her bed, but it seemed she was waking.

  “He just left. Just you and me, baby.”

  “Your ring.” She moved with haste, but I stopped her from pulling it off. With a finger under her chin, I tilted her face and kissed her lips. She welcomed it and reciprocated, and what started off as gentle soon turned passionate.

  Lips like hers need to be kissed.

  They need to be fucked.

  They begged for it.

  Our tongues started a dance as my hand reached under her loose summer dress. My hands wandered up her thigh, skin so soft, and up to her breasts. Britta didn’t stop me. In fact, she inched closer, demanding I touch her.

  “I just need a taste,” I whispered, pulling back and pushing her flat on the bed. “Just a taste.” It was a lie, we both knew it. A taste was never going to be enough. Pushing the straps of the dress over her shoulders, I freed her tits giving them the recognition they deserved. They were plump, perfectly shaped and beautiful. My hand wandered back down underneath her dress to find her lacy panties. She was wet, her hips thrusting up to meet my hand, demanding my fingers rub her clit to the point of orgasm.

  I stood up, pushing my hand away. Britta’s eyes followed, her chest rising and falling heavily.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, almost stricken.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, ready to leave. Despite how I felt earlier, I didn’t want to fuck her right now. I mean, I wouldn’t say no, but the last thing I wanted was for Britta to feel like I was using her for sex.

  I cared for her as a person, as someone I’d known for years and loved.

  And I cared about her as an employee. She was too fucking valuable to lose over any shitty misunderstanding.

  “Goodnight, Britta.”

  “Whoa!” she lunged forward, gripped my arm and spun me around to face her. There was a glimmer of something shining in those beautiful blues of hers. Mischief, maybe. “You’re not going anywhere.” She laughed.

  “Oh? Is that so?”

  “Yes, that’s so. My vibrator doesn’t nearly compare to what you can give me.”

  I laughed at her assessment, and in response, she practically climbed me like a cat to a tree. Her soft lips locked to mine and it was deep and passionate. I felt Britta’s hand work my belt and then unzip my pants. It all fell to the ground, and I kicked it aside.

  With a wicked gleam in her mischievous eyes, she lowered herself, so she was level with my groin. Hooking her thumbs in my underwear, she pulled them down releasing my hard cock. It sprung free eagerly, and Britta moistened her lips in preparation. Opening her mouth wide, she slid her lips over my throbbing length. She sucked, licked, and used her teeth to gently graze. It was an exhilarating feeling, my head falling back enjoying the sensations.

  I groaned, threading my fingers through her long hair, holding her pretty mouth in place. It felt too fucking good. The best I’d ever had, and as my cock threatened to explode in her mouth, I pulled myself free. She was panting, looking up at me with her wide eyes.

  “You’re too fucking good at that,” I growled.

  She smiled, gripped my shoulders and pushed me onto the bed. Again, she crawled her way up my body, lowering hers on top. Lifting her dress over her head, she sat on me completely naked and confident. She was like a
goddess, and I had no idea why fuckface Roman would ever look elsewhere. She lifted herself slightly, her hand guiding my cock to her pussy. Britta’s long dark hair fell over her shoulders and covered her breasts allowing little peeps of her nipples to show through whenever she moved.

  “Is this you taking control?” I asked.

  She smiled wickedly. “You bring out the wild side in me.”

  “Mmm,” I murmured, waiting for her to slide my cock in. “I love your wild side, but I love control. Now put my cock in your pussy and let’s fuck.”

  “Always in such a hurry, Mr. Carnage.”

  Raising herself some more, she slid the tip of my cock into her pussy and moaned. Keen to be inside her, I took over, thrusting until I filled her completely. Britta cried out, falling on top as she took a moment to get used to me. She must still be sensitive from the night before.

  “Jesus,” she moaned. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Too much?”

  She shook her head, hair tickling my chest. “No! Don’t stop. I love it.”

  The woman said so herself.

  Gripping her slender waist, I moved her up and down, so she slid over my cock. She was already panting and whimpering in my ear, nails piercing my chest.

  It felt so natural to be inside Britta. And in all honesty, it was the best fucking sex I’d ever had. Why the fuck did I wait so long to do this?

  Britta came hard and fast, pumping my cock to her own rhythm. Goosebumps covered her skin, and she collapsed on top with my cock still inside her. I didn’t want to move her, I could easily have fallen asleep like this.

  After ten minutes she stirred, my fingers gently grazing her arm while she slept.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, concerned about falling asleep before I finished.

  “Don’t be,” I reassured. “You were tired to begin with. And, plus... that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Britta rolled to my side, her arm propping her head. She studied me, and I studied her. It was a comfortable silence but so much was being said.

  “Slate doesn’t know?” I asked eventually.

  She shook her head. “No, he didn’t even put it together. In fact, I don’t even know if he noticed what I was wearing when I came home. He will piece it together soon though, he just had something else on his mind today.” She pulled the sheet up, tucking it around her breasts.

  “He was going to meet a girl, or at least someone he doesn’t want me knowing about. Has he spoken about any women?”

  “No, but he’ll tell me if it’s anything serious.”

  Slate told Britta everything, so it was only a matter of time.

  I pulled her in close, and we both started to drift off to sleep, fatigued by the last twenty-four hours. I was in and out of consciousness when I felt two small, soft hands shoving at my chest, and a beautiful voice hissing my name.

  I woke to a frantic Britta throwing her dress over her head while trying to urgently rouse me.

  “For God’s sake,” she hissed again, gaze flicking to the door and back to me. “Hawk, wake the fuck up!”

  I sit up, humored by her behavior. “What on earth is wrong—”

  “Shhh!” Britta waved her hands at me to hush. “He’ll hear you.”

  My brows furrowed in question. “Who will hear—”

  “Brit,” I heard Slate’s voice call from the living room.

  “Fuck,” I mouthed, jumping out of bed.

  “Fuck indeed,” Britta agreed, throwing my clothes at me. “Take them... you don’t have time to get dressed.”

  “So you’re kicking me out on the street naked?”

  “No,” she whispered loud enough for China to hear. “Get in there.” Britta pointed to the closet.

  To her fucking closet.

  She pushed me forward as the voice outside became louder and then closed the door in my face.

  That was not how I saw the afternoon unfolding. I listened to them speaking and cupped my cock between my hands in case the door suddenly swung open. There was not enough room to get dressed, so I stood naked, like a pervert peering through the white wooden louvers. Slate was reprimanding Britta for not answering her phone and wasting his time having to pay another visit. Taking him by the arm, she urged him down the hall. I took a step back and something sharp and hard slid between my ass crack. I jumped from the violation and knocked into something on the right. Balanced shoe boxes toppled to the ground. I froze, listening for footsteps but didn’t hear any.

  Ten minutes passed before Britta returned, telling me the coast was clear.

  She flung the door open and assessed the naked man standing in her closet. “I’m tempted to keep you as my prisoner.”

  “You would,” I scoffed, stepping out. “You’ve even got your torture instruments prepared.”

  She frowned in confusion, the smile she was wearing soon turned to a burst of laughter when she spotted the object in my hand.

  “What did you do to my unicorn?”

  “What did I do to the unicorn? More like what did the unicorn do to me?”

  “What happened?” She bit her lip to stop the laughter.

  Holding the unicorn at eye level, her gaze focused on the long, pointy, plastic horn. “This unicorn you love so much tried to penetrate my ass.”

  She lost it. So much so, she fell onto the bed laughing, clutching her ribs.

  “You think it’s funny, huh?”

  This just made Britta laugh harder. It was infectious listening to her, and if I were to be honest, it had been forever since I’d last heard it.

  I wanted to make it happen more often... without the violating unicorn.

  When she finally sobered, she looked up at me, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Urghh,” she exhaled in exhaustion. “He heard you. Well, I’m pretty sure he did anyway but chose to ignore it.” She crossed her legs and watched me get dressed. “I feel kinda bad actually. He wanted to tell me something, but all I kept on thinking about was not getting caught. When what I should have worried about was you getting frisky with my pink unicorn.” Britta howled with laughter once again.

  “Ha ha, real fucking funny,” I said, trying to reprimand but failing miserably. “Be careful,” I continued, “I know just how to turn that laughter into screams.”

  Britta’s lips pursed together and she moaned, eyes hooded. “That sounds very tempting, but I have to go.”

  “Right now?”

  “Family lunch. Honestly, I have to go.” She looked at the time. “It was meant to be dinner, but Ricky has to work.”

  “Well, I’ll kiss you instead, then I’ll fuck you later.” My lips touched hers, and she responded enthusiastically. Any more enthusiasm and I’d be between her legs once more.

  When Britta pulled away, she carefully pulled the ring off her finger and handed it back to me. “It’s so beautiful,” she said gently. “Whoever this goes to is a very lucky lady.”

  Chapter 13

  Britta

  Leaving Hawk was hard.

  And the fact I had that thought was terrifying. I wanted his hands to keep roaming my body. I wanted to have him moving inside of me. The next day would throw us back into work and soon the memory of the weekend would be just that. Walking through my parents’ front door, I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and did my best to act natural. I was flustered. Paranoid I had sex written over my face, and terrified Slate would spill the beans to everyone over the dinner.

  “Hey, sis,” Ricky’s smiling face rounded the corner into the hall. He wrapped his bear-like arms around me and picked me up into a hug.

  When he put me back down, I saw Mum and Dad in the kitchen cooking up a storm. When they noticed me, they both came over and wrapped me in a hug, saying how much they’d missed me.

  I felt like shit that I never got to see them. My brothers hadn’t let me hear the end of it. I went from a break up to living with them, to finding my own place and not seeing them for weeks on end.

  I’d need to spe
ak with Hawk about my work schedule.

  Just thinking his name had me burning up on the inside. Making my way into the living room, I found Brock sitting on the couch talking with Slate. I searched the room but couldn’t find Brock’s wife or kids.

  “We normally do Sadie’s parents’ for lunch, so she’s there this time around.”

  I kissed him on the cheek. “Good to see you, bro.”

  “You too,” he said, a slight frown forming. I wanted to ask what was wrong but something was telling me not to.

  “Take your places everyone,” Mom called from the kitchen. “Dinner will be five minutes.”

  While the boys finished off their conversations, I made my way to the table but noticed instead of only seven places set like usual, there was eight.

  “Who else are we waiting for?” I called, but no one responded.

  I wasn’t left hanging because moments later, the front door opened and Hawk Carnage crossed the threshold. He strode in, looking fresh and suave, eyes locked on mine. The boys cheered for him and my parents welcomed him with open arms. Brock, however, was the only one who watched me. He was really starting to freak me out. Slate was already engrossed in a football conversation with him that it became apparent he hadn’t heard a thing earlier at my place. Everyone took a seat at the table, Hawk sitting directly opposite me.

  It certainly was a fine view.

  He winked and smirked, and I smiled back, feeling a little giddy.

  Everyone fell into natural conversation while Mom and Dad took their seats. I watched Hawk who watched me. He didn’t tell me he’d be here when I was trying to kick him out of the house earlier. He’d obviously had time to shower and was looking particularly edible in his jeans and black shirt. He could make the most casual of outfits look like runway material.

  “The wedding, Britta,” someone said, and Slate kicked me from under the table. Looking up, everyone was waiting for me to answer.

  “Hmm?”

  “The wedding?” Brock asked once more.

  “Oh, the wedding. Well, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. A little awkward at times,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.