Cocktales

by The Cocky Collective

  I hear what she’s not saying. “You thought I felt that way? That maybe I instigated them bullying you?”

  She nods slowly and tries to slide off me, but I shake my head and pull her closer.

  Did I hear some of the rumors our friends said about her? I must’ve, but I never paid them any mind since they talked shit about everyone, even me. But I never let those assholes harass anyone when we hung out.

  When she rattles off a few familiar names, I nod, this whole thing finally making sense.

  “Every single one of those douchebags had a hard-on for you, Lo. Each one would’ve given their left nut to be with you.” She frowns and starts to object, but I cut her off. “I’m not saying that excuses their behavior, because it sure as shit doesn’t, but I’m guessing that’s why they were dicks to you. Because they wanted you, and you knew they were idiots. And let me say I never had anything to do with them bullying you. I would’ve kicked their asses had I known.”

  I parted ways with those dumbasses back in college.

  “Is that everything, baby? Is that why you hated me?”

  Those big blue eyes shimmer in the darkness. “I didn’t hate you.” Her voice is thick with emotion.

  “It’s okay if you did. I would’ve too had I experienced all that.” I rub her thighs, trying to soothe her. “I just want you to know I’m sorry all this shit went down, and I was right there at the middle of it, apparently, but was too wrapped up in my own life to stop those little pricks.”

  She’s nodding when I hear a sniffle escape her, and even though she’s sitting on top of me, she feels too far. I roll over and tuck her to my side, grateful that she wraps her arms around me and snuggles close.

  Her breathing finally calms as I rub her back. Somehow, her lips find mine. She tastes sweet, and I can’t get enough.

  Her touch feels so good. Over my pecs. Through my hair. Down my abs. I let myself explore her too. Her perfectly round ass. Those long, smooth legs. Her mouth-watering breasts.

  When she slides her thigh over mine and moans, my cock pulses against her.

  But this is Lo. I don’t want to go too fast and mess up any shot I have of something more with her.

  Fuck me, I can’t believe I’m gonna say this. “Babe, we don’t have to do anything more tonight. If you don’t want.”

  She grabs my face in her hands. “I want. And if you stop one more time for another heart-to-heart, I swear to you, I’ll go postal.”

  I chuckle and tackle her to her back, making her squeal with laughter when I bite her neck. She tugs at my briefs, and we’re a tangle of limbs as we shove off our underwear. And then she’s reaching for me, cradling me between her gorgeous thighs, her wet heat searing my cock as I glide across her.

  I’m in such a frenzy to get close I nearly go in bare. Whoa.

  With a pained groan, I lean over her to snag a condom from my nightstand, nearly combusting when she wraps her hand around my dick to help me wrap it up.

  “Hurry,” she whimpers, guiding me back.

  But I’m a big guy, and I want to make sure she’s ready, so I dip my fingers into her and coat her plump little clit, rubbing small circles until her breasts heave. Until she’s thrashing beneath me.

  Leaning back on my knees, with this stunning woman spread out before me, I want to take it all in. Burn it into my memory. The way her hair is spread against my pillows. How her skin is flushed and glistening with sweat. The way she stares back at me with the kind of hunger that’s clawing inside me too.

  I fist my cock, feeding myself into her, inch by inch. I go slowly. Wedging myself in there. Watching every moment of our connection. Like this matters. Because it does. Everything about Willow fucking matters.

  Watching her stretch around me nearly makes me come undone, and I have to take a breath because she’s so tight, but I don’t want to blow our first time together.

  With one hand planted above her head and another massaging her swollen clit, I finally move my hips, thrusting deeper and making us both moan. The sounds of our bodies slapping together fills the room. I drive into her, rutting like an animal, but I don’t think she minds. Her nails are digging into me, her hips lifting to meet mine, her teeth bearing down on my shoulder. Seeing her so turned on pushes me closer to the edge.

  I’ve never felt such a feral desire for any woman before. Just Willow.

  And when she comes? Screaming, “Yes!” her tight pussy fluttering around me and squeezing my cock so tightly I see the Holy Grail? I can’t hold back any longer. I wrap my arms around her and hold her to me as I fuck up into her, deeper, harder, until the headboard knocks against the wall and I’m coming so fiercely, I think my dick might break off.

  Instead of collapsing onto her, I roll to the side to keep from crushing her. But I can’t let go of her, and she can’t seem to let go of me.

  Not sure how long we lie there in a sex stupor, quaking from the aftershocks, since we’re still connected, but when I can finally peel open my eyes, and I find Lo’s sleepy, sated gaze staring back up at me, I’m pretty sure I’m the world’s luckiest man.

  “You okay, baby?” I rub her back, and she gives me that smile that’s always knocked me on my ass.

  She clears her throat, and when she finally speaks, her voice is raspy. “For the record, I think that was worth the wait.”

  “Hell yes, it was.” I kiss the top of her head. “But let’s not wait another fifteen years to do it again.”

  “How ‘bout next weekend?”

  “I was thinking in about twenty minutes, but another hell yes to next weekend and the one after that.”

  We’re laughing and joking, but there’s one more thing I need to ask.

  “Lo, whatcha doing in mid-July?”

  When she shrugs because she probably doesn’t have a clue since that’s six weeks from now, I take the big step. Something I’ve never done before or imagined I’d do anytime soon. But I really hope to do with her.

  “Wanna come to a wedding with me?”

  Would you like to read more of Lex Martin’s Dark Texas Nights series? Be sure to check out her new release, RECKLESS, a USA Today bestseller.

  * * *

  ABOUT RECKLESS:

  * * *

  For the record, I’m not going to hook up with my boss.

  * * *

  I'm a lot of things—a screwup, a basket case, a flunky. But when I take a nanny job to be near my pregnant sister, I swear to myself I’ll walk the straight and narrow, which means I cannot fall for my insanely hot boss.

  * * *

  I don't want to be tempted by that rugged rancher. By his chiseled muscles or southern charm or the way he snuggles his kids at bedtime. Ethan Carter won't get the key to my heart, no matter how much I want him.

  Click here to learn more about RECKLESS: http://bit.ly/2wEeGhN

  About the Author

  Lex Martin is the USA Today bestselling author of the Dark Texas Nights series, the Dearest series, and All About the D, books she hopes her readers love but her parents avoid. To stay up-to-date with her releases, subscribe to her newsletter or join her Facebook group, Lex Martin’s Wildcats.

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  Going Down

  A Spiral Down Short Story

  Aly Martinez

  Henry and Evan from The Spiral Down struggle to find a private spot for their cocky adventures. (MM Romance)

  Copyright © 2018 by Aly Martinez

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  One

  Henry

  The rain was coming down in fat, cold drops. The kind that soaked you to the bone and sent a shiver down your spine. The weather had been shit since I’d woken that morning, but as
I ran to my private plane—the cool November air whipping all around me and the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen at my side—I didn’t let it bother me. With his hand securely locked on mine, his subtle smile aimed at me, and five full days of peace, quiet, and lovemaking ahead of us, I decided not to allow my anxiety to have any place on our upcoming flight.

  Well, that was until we climbed on board and Evan exited the cockpit, informing us that we were going to have to switch planes due to a mechanical issue.

  “Oh God! We’re all going to die!” I yelled, my voice echoing around the lavish interior of my private plane.

  “Jesus,” Sam muttered, flashing a pair of wide eyes at his wife, Levee. She also happened to be my BFF for life, so our relationship trumped theirs. (What? That’s totally true. It’s written into the best friend bylaws. Look it up!)

  “Henry, stop being such a diva,” Levee said, gathering her daughter in her arms.

  See? It was obvious she loved me the most.

  Because she clearly hadn’t heard me, I repeated, “We’re all going to die!”

  Levee took this news in stride. With a huff, she cradled baby Bridget against her chest and allowed Sam, who was weighted down with bags like some sort of pack mule, to guide them down the steps. She probably would have had a stronger reaction to deplaning if she’d taken her eyes off her daughter long enough to look in a mirror and see that her long brown curls currently looked like she was wearing an electrified poodle on her head. Humidity was not her friend.

  Bad hair aside, I was still losing my fucking mind.

  And not a single person was surprised.

  “Oh God,” I cried, my heart slamming into my ribs as I folded over and put my head between my knees.

  “Breathe,” Evan urged, perching his muscular body on the leather armrest. “I promise it’s going to be okay.”

  “That’s what you said when we got on this plane,” I argued before sucking in a painfully deep breath of air that, judging by the way my lungs burned, held no oxygen.

  His deep baritone got soft. “And it is okay. Jackson sent over another plane. The crew is switching over all four hundred pounds of Levee’s luggage now. We’ll be wheels down in North Carolina before you know it. I’ve got a handle on this. I swear.” His strong hand glided up and down my spine, which was something it did so often when we were together. Usually, I was naked and he was behind me when he did this, but him comforting me in the middle of a flight-induced panic attack wasn’t exactly something new.

  I’d become terrified of flying after my plane had been struck by lightening a few years earlier. It had been paralyzing at first, and as a touring musician, flying wasn’t something that I could just avoid. It wasn’t until I fell in love with Evan that I was able to even step foot onto an aircraft without a liter of gin coursing through my veins. He was an amazing pilot—a more amazing boyfriend—and I trusted him with my life. But with a broken wrist thanks to a not-so-friendly game of basketball with the kids at the youth program we sponsored, Evan’s abilities in the air would be limited. A thought that had made me lose more sleep than I’d ever admit.

  “Maybe we should just drive,” I said, turning my head to catch his gaze without sitting up. “First your hand and now the plane? What’s next? Dixon isn’t ready for this.”

  His stark blue eyes danced with humor as he grinned down at me. “Babe.”

  That was it. That was all he said. And he’d said it in a condescending tone that transformed my fear into anger. He thought I was overreacting.

  Okay, I probably was, but that didn’t make the distress any less real.

  “It’s a valid concern!” I snapped entirely too roughly. “This trip has been shot to hell since I planned it.”

  His chin jerked to the side, and he arched an admonishing eyebrow. “You gonna bring that attitude down a notch?”

  I folded my arms on my knees and rested my head on top of them, strategically avoiding eye contact as I sniped back, “Are you going to stop with the placating ‘babe’ shit? My attitude isn’t going to matter much when we’re both dead in a plane crash. Which is exactly what’s going to happen if you force me into another plan with Dixon behind the controls.”

  His hand on my back froze, and a pang of guilt socked me in the gut.

  It was a known fact that I could be a teensy-tiny bit of a dick when I was scared. But if there was ever a man who did not deserve to be on the receiving end of that anger, it was Evan Roth. He’d been good to me too many times when I didn’t deserve it. When I’d wigged out after discovering he was bi-sexual, he hadn’t let me go, not even when he should have. Back then, I should have been the one groveling at his feet, begging for him to take me back. But that wasn’t Evan’s style.

  He was patient and tolerant.

  Loving and kind.

  Everything I didn’t deserve.

  He took care of me on a daily basis, and let’s be honest, that wasn’t the easiest of tasks. It could be said that I was a smidge high maintenance. But Evan didn’t seem to think so.

  He loved me unconditionally.

  I closed my eyes and sucked in a sharp breath, trying to align the right words to form an apology. Before I could, though, he gently trailed the tips of his fingers up my neck.

  “Mmm,” I hummed. My body sagged, and my heart slowed as he threaded his fingers into the back of my hair.

  Then, with a sudden tug, he yanked me up until my back hit the seat.

  “Ow, ow, ow,” I complained, swatting at his wrist, but he didn’t release me.

  Evan was known to do a little hair pulling in the bedroom.

  And I was known to enjoy it immensely.

  But he’d never touched me like this.

  I couldn’t decide if this was the beginning of some seriously hot foreplay, or if I’d finally found the right button to push to piss him off.

  He forced my head back so that I was staring up into his darkening eyes. Looming over me, he brushed his nose against mine. “You think I’d ever let anything happen to you?”

  My heart stopped, guilt washing over me.

  He wasn’t mad. Nor was he trying to get me naked.

  He was hurt.

  “I didn’t—”

  He gave my hair another sharp tug and lowered his mouth to mine. His plump lips, which were the beginning and end of every sexual fantasy I had, moved against mine as he asked, “You trust me?”

  “Always,” I breathed, my eyelids fluttering shut as I swayed toward him, desperate for his mouth.

  He dodged me.

  When I opened my eyes, I found him glaring at me expectantly.

  Oh, I knew what my man wanted.

  My lips tipped up into a ghost of a smile. “Always, Evan.”

  “Fuck.” He groaned, his eyes searching mine before he dipped down to bite my bottom lip. The nip was followed by a deep and reverent kiss. It was the perfect combination of brute masculinity and tender romance that had made me fall in love with him in the first place.

  He released my hair and blew out a ragged breath. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.”

  I licked my lips seductively. “Yes, you should have. And perhaps you should do it again tonight . . . with slightly less clothing and a lot more lube.”

  He rolled his eyes, moved off the armrest, and dropped into a squat beside me. I took the moment to appreciate the way his powerful thighs strained against the denim of his jeans. My man was gorgeous beyond reason. I had no idea what I had ever done to deserve him. But he was mine. And I was his for as long as he would keep me.

  Resting his casted hand on my thigh, he said, “You know I won’t let anything happen to you in the air.”

  Sheepishly, I brushed the dark brown hair off his forehead. “I know.”

  “Then trust me to make the right decision here. Dixon is a good pilot. A pilot I trust. A pilot who has co-captained for me on every single flight you’ve taken this year. A pilot who is so fucking overqualified, he’s only a co-captain because you pay
him a captain’s salary and give him approximately three hundred and five days off a year.”

  I peeked up at him, a smirk pulling at my lips and a modicum of anxiety ebbing from my system. Tracing circles he’d never feel over the plaster covering his palm, I continued with my hissy fit, just at a slightly lower decibel. “Dixon’s first flight in command does not need to be one in which we have such precious cargo on board.”

  With two fingers under my chin, he tipped my head up. “And just to be clear here, this precious cargo we’re talking about is you and not Levee’s baby, right?”

  “Obviously. Though, now that you mention it, we do have a baby on board.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “North Carolina is a forty-hour drive from San Francisco. If that is what you want to do, I’ll support it. Full disclosure: I’ll probably rant, grumble, and have road rage for at least thirty-nine of those hours, but for the rest of the trip, I should be fine.” He flashed me a brilliant white smile.

  I swallowed hard. As much as I did enjoy making Cranky Evan uncranky, forty hours in the car was really going to cut into our mountain vacation getaway. It was rare when Sam, Levee, Evan, and I could all find time in our busy schedules to spend time together like the family we truly were. If I forced them all to drive, I had a feeling those times together were going to go from rare to extinct.

  “Oh God.” I groaned, knowing he was right.

  Evan grinned in victory. “You gotta trust me, babe.”

  “No. What I need to do is get drunk.”