Cocktales

by The Cocky Collective

  I’m on my third mimosa and the professor has pushed his student up against the wall. He grabs her ass, and on instinct, her long legs wrap around his waist. I check my peen replacement device on the bed next to me. I don’t want the batteries to be low when it’s time to take off…

  As I refocus on the book and dive into the sex scene, my phone rings. A Chicago area code, but different than the last one. The fact that it could be someone from the office trying to reach me has me going against all the rules of self-care and answering the call.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Cali Jones?” asks a man with a very deep voice. He seems older, more like my father’s age. Bill collector? Publisher’s Clearing House? Well, I’m about to find out.

  “Who’s this?” Yeah, I need details.

  “This is Jimmy McDermott, coach of the Chicago—”

  I stop him there. “Right. Like Coach McDermott is just going to call me out of the blue on a Sunday. Are you a friend of Brady’s? If you are, I have some choice words for you to pass on to him.”

  “Actually, I am Brady’s coach. Friend is taking it a little far,” he laughs into the phone.

  “Okay, say you are Coach McDermott, why would you be calling me?” I glance at the clock. The first pitch in Saint Louis is only four hours away. “You have a game today. One would think you’d be busy.”

  “It’s Brady. He’s a fucking mess. And I think you know why.”

  “Um, maybe?” Oh my God, what does the Coach know? I’m afraid to find out. I slide down my headboard and cover the bedspread over my face.

  “Say you’ll talk to him. Help him out.” He pauses. “Help the team.” Coach is a legend in Chicago, a hero of heroes, and we’re coyly talking about Brady’s erectile dysfunction. There’s a good chance I’ll die of embarrassment before this call is over. “The penchant is in reach for Chicago. We have a chance at breaking the curse.”

  “I’m not sure,” I stutter in a whisper. This is a hairbrained idea.

  “What can I do to sweeten the deal?” Coach asks, like we’re negotiating a player’s contract. “Box seats for the season? Free hotdogs and beer?”

  “We’re at the end of the season.”

  “Smart girl. I like that. How’s this? Season tickets for you and a friend. All the food and drinks you want, plus playoff games, and, God willing, World Series seats. Just talk to the guy, please?”

  “Okay, but there will no phone sex,” I declare, because I have dignity…and I’m a virgin in that department.

  A couple guys I’ve met from dating apps have sent me dick pics, but I see those up close and personal all day long, so the appeal is limited and not that impressive. Now, a dick pic of Brady would be in a class all its own. What did he say? “I’m nine inches of fine.” The guy is so modest.

  “He’ll call you in five minutes,” Coach says, his tone seeming lighter than when we first started talking. “Work for you?”

  Panic sets in. I’m in my bed. My hair’s a rat’s nest of epic portions. Mascara flakes from last night dot my cheeks like freckles. Not to mention, I feel slightly drunk.

  “Nothing like FaceTime or anything visual.” Ground rules laid for a crazy plan. I shake my head. People are always calling me smart and sensible, but this is dumb and ridiculous.

  “Of course. Anything you want.”

  As soon as we hang up, I scramble off my bed, comb through my hair, and brush my teeth. I consider applying some lip gloss, but realize he’s not going to see a thing. What is it about hot, cocky boys that makes girls turn to mush? I return to my bed, nestle under the covers, and wait, glancing sadly at my discarded book and aim-to-please friend.

  My phone lights up. It’s him. I take a deep breath and silently tell myself to play it cool. After all, he’s the one chasing me.

  “Hello,” I say in a steady voice, one that doesn’t match my racing heart and sweaty hands.

  “Cali,” Brady rushes out. “Thanks for taking my call. Hell, I’m going nuts. You’re a doctor. What do you think’s happening to me?”

  I have to admit, he sounds desperate and nothing like the cocky guy hunting me down at every turn.

  “First off, I can’t give you medical advice since our practice is no longer seeing you as a patient. Second, you didn’t have this problem in the exam room. Are you faking it?”

  “Hell no,” he practically shouts. “I would never lie about something like this. Promise.”

  “I had to ask. I don’t know if there’s anything I can do for you, Brady.” I could tell him it’s all in his head, but from experience, that doesn’t help.

  “But there is,” he declares with an intense passion.

  “You’re wrong if you think I’m going to tell you what I’m wearing or listen while you list off what you want to do to me.”

  “That’s not going to happen. Coach said I needed to keep things on your terms. And I gotta say, just talking to you right now helps. A guy would have to be blind as a bat to miss that you’re hot as hell. What I like most about you, Cali, is your sass. You don’t take shit from anyone, including me.”

  I try not to let the fact that he thinks I’m hot affect me. Yet, I squirm in my bed and feel my face flush. I glance up at the mirror on the opposite wall and see a dopey smile on my face. I look like a girl whose crush just said he liked her. Before the entire Erection Gate, it would’ve been true. Maybe there’s a small part of me, likely my lonely vajayjay, that crushes on him still.

  “Thanks, Brady. I think.”

  “Talk to me. Like, what are you doing right now…well, besides talking to me?” He chuckles in a sweet, non-cocky way. Maybe he is willing to look at me as a real person, not just a quick fix for what ails him.

  “I was reading.” I glance at my book and battery-operated bean machine. What started out as a great day of self-care now seems sad to me. I really wish I had someone real in my bed.

  “What’s the book?” Brady asks. Of course.

  “An erotic romance. I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.”

  “Oh, really?” he says with an abundance of enthusiasm. I’m pretty sure he’s getting the right idea about my day. “Why don’t you read a hot part to me?”

  “Like a sex scene?” I bite my lip, considering the option. What would it hurt? I close my eyes and take a centering breath.

  “Yeah. I’d like that, but only if you’re okay with it,” Brady says in a husky voice, and my pulse quickens.

  “Okay.” My response is weak and unsure. Can I really pull this off? Does it make me slide down Slut Street? I let out a heavy sigh, caving into reading him smut. “Let me put you on speaker phone.”

  “Thanks, Cali.” He seems as happy as a kid in a candy shop mixed with a big side of relief.

  I open the book and find the page where the scene sex begins, trying not to imagine what Brady will be doing while I read it.

  * * *

  I stand at Professor Black’s open door. Glancing up from his desk, he motions for me to enter his office. I look down the dark hallway. It’s afterhours and all the other teachers and staff are gone for the evening. We’re alone for the first time, and my mind swirls with the possibilities...

  * * *

  “Holy shit. He’s her professor. This is gonna be good,” Brady says in a gleeful voice. I imagine him rubbing his hands together…or over something else.

  “No interrupting please,” I scold him.

  “Gotcha,” he says, and I swear I hear the sound of a zipper running through its teeth. I get a visual of him exposing those glorious nine inches, and shake my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts—as if that’s possible.

  * * *

  “Are you sure, Professor Black?” I ask, still standing in the threshold.

  “Be a good girl and do what I say,” he commands while rising from his desk. He’s so tall, dark, and forbidden. I’ve never wanted anyone like him, but does he want me too? His hooded eyes and heavy breaths tell me he does.

  “Does she go i
nto his office?” Brady asks.

  Dammit.

  * * *

  “Hush,” I whisper-yell at him.

  “Sorry,” he whispers back. I roll my eyes, wondering if he’s going to interrupt after every sentence. He’ll end up driving me mad.

  “One more interruption and I quit reading. Three strikes and you’re out. Got it?”

  “Yep,” he quips. “Promise.”

  * * *

  “Yes, sir,” I reply, no longer caring about the right or wrong of my decision.

  “Lock the door,” he instructs while tossing his tweed jacket with suede elbow patches onto a leather chair. He rolls up his sleeves as I reach behind me and turn the lock. As soon as it clicks, a shiver runs over my skin. This is going to happen.

  Professor Black steps to me in two long strides, then pulls me into his arms. I meld to his body. Hard lines meet softness. He bends down and ravishes me with a kiss.

  “You’re as sweet as I thought,” he mutters into my ear. His lips continue from my jaw to my throat. I lean my head back against the door, allowing him better access to the rest of me.

  “More please,” I moan.

  * * *

  Brady hasn’t said a word, though each inhale and exhale he takes registers in my ear. I picture him with his hand around his penis, stroking it in a fast motion.

  * * *

  He places his large hands under my behind and lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling his erection pressing against my most secret place.

  “May I touch you, Monica?” he asks.

  “Yes please,” I breathe.

  Professor Black pushes me against the door and holds me in place as he snakes one hand under my skirt. He inches his fingers up my inner thigh, stopping at the edge of my lace panties. I hold my breath, waiting for his next move.

  “Are you wet for me?” he asks in a raspy tone.

  “Yes. Please, I need more.”

  He answers my pleas and moves my panties to the side. When his fingers enter me, I cry out from his touch. It feels divine.

  “So wet and naughty,” he pants.

  * * *

  Brady’s breaths are coming out in short puffs too. In a moment of weakness, or complete and utter horniness, I grab my magic wand and switch it on. I place it against my clit and my mouth drops open. I need a release so damn bad. It was on my to-do-list anyway. Let the rationalization begin…

  * * *

  “Only for you, Professor,” I utter.

  “I want you,” he says between kisses. “All of you.”

  “Then take me.” I wrap my legs tighter around him and unbuckle his belt. His button and zipper are next. Finally, I have him in my hands. He’s hard and huge.

  “I can’t wait anymore.” I give him a couple strokes and line him up to where I need him the most.

  “Yes.” His voice is ragged with need, just like mine.

  He pushes his hips forward and enters me, filling me completely in one motion. I scream his name in ecstasy. All those times I sat in his class and dreamed of this moment could never compare to how it feels to finally have him inside me.

  “I want to see your breasts—take them in my mouth and make you come on my cock.”

  He grips my blouse in one hand and yanks it to the side. Buttons fly around us, exposing my bra to his view. He pulls down the cups, freeing my breasts. A second later, my nipple is in his mouth. The sensation of him devouring my body brings me to the edge. I want to fall over, let go, but only with him.

  “I’m close. So close,” I mumble as he continues to make love to me.

  “Come with me, baby,” he commands. After a couple more strokes, I do.

  “Oh. Oh, oh,” I call out as waves of pleasure wash over me.

  * * *

  As soon as I come, I stop reading. It’s also possible I moaned Brady’s name. There’s silence on the other end of the phone, and I wonder if he’s still there.

  “Brady?” I ask quietly. I’ll be humiliated if he hung up on me.

  “Cali,” he sounds like he’s catching his breath, “that was hot as fuck. Were your ‘ohs’ for real?”

  “Yeah,” I confess to my lapse in judgment. Seriously, what did I think would happen when I went all clit happy? I should’ve known better.

  “They were beautiful and everything I needed to hear. You’ve got the Midas touch for me, babe. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome?” I mean, really, what do you say to a guy after he says thanks for…not giving him phone sex exactly, but still getting him off? I’m at a loss, but the leftover bliss makes it somewhat worth it.

  “This afternoon, I’m hitting a homerun just for you. I’m going to blow you a kiss when I walk up to bat. Watch for it.”

  “I will.”

  After we hang up, I finish the book and get a little more mileage out of my pretend boyfriend before the game starts.

  True to his word, when Brady steps up to the plate his first time at bat, he blows an air kiss into the wind. The announcers laugh. I swoon. But everyone cheers when he hits the ball out of the park.

  Now, time for that nap…and nine-inch dreams.

  What the full monty? Find Brady and Cali here: http://bit.ly/HardLuckBro

  Acknowledgments

  Penny Reid and Fiona! Thanks for making this entire collection possible. You two amaze me. Hats off to all of the authors who put their WIPs on hold and contributed to this collection and for those who helped shout it from the mountain tops. Jenn Watson, you’re a rock star and got the PR ball rolling in a split second. Thank you! Emma Hart is secretly a webmaster. It took a great team to pull off this cocky celebration. I’m thankful to have been a part of an anthology with such a worthy mission. Keeping our words FREE!

  About the Author

  USA Today bestselling author, Liv Morris, resides on the concrete rock known as Manhattan with her first and hopefully last husband, because he's a keeper.

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  Also by Liv Morris

  Bossy Nights: Release date: June 22nd

  I can't wait to bring you Barclay and Tessa's love story!

  Goodreads: http://bit.ly/bossynights

  LIVE Alert: http://bit.ly/BNalert

  * * *

  Hard Luck

  * * *

  Tough Luck

  * * *

  Felony Ever After

  * * *

  Adam’s Apple

  * * *

  Adam’s Fall

  * * *

  Marry Screw Kill

  Her Cocky Russian

  A Kinky Ménage

  Red Phoenix

  A sexy bonus chapter between two best friends (blood-brothers) and one lucky submissive from the popular series Brie’s Submission.

  Copyright © 2018 by Red Phoenix

  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.

  Her Cocky Russian

  A Kinky Ménage

  Brie was sunbathing on the beach, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin as she listened to the soothing sound of the waves roll in. She turned her head to the left and stared at Rytsar Durov. He was laid out on his back, eyes closed, soaking up the Californian sun. Her eyes slowly traveled from his muscular chest, and down to his tight swimsuit that effectively showed off his manly assets.

  “I can feel your eyes on me, radost moya,” Rytsar said with a smirk, his eyes still closed.

  Brie giggled and turned her head to the right. Sir Thane Davis was lying on his stomach, his head resting against his folded arms. Unlike Rytsar, his eyes were open, and he was staring straight at her. The ravenous look in his gaze made her pussy wet.

  Biting her bottom lip, Brie turned her h
ead to look up at the bright blue sky. Sir and Rytsar had something planned for her—she could feel it in her bones.

  The two experienced Doms kept her constantly on her toes.

  She loved being challenged by these two and wondered if today might include Rytsar’s favorite tool or bondage scene or even a dual flogging by both Masters. She shivered in delight at the thought.

  Of course, there was always the chance it might be something new she’d never experienced before. Sir and Rytsar were wickedly creative, and they consistently came up with fresh ways to please and test her.

  Patience had never been Brie’s strong suit, so she snuck a peek at both men. Sir’s intense gaze was still on her, and now Rytsar’s was, too.

  “Téa.”

  Brie felt the butterflies start. Sir only used his pet name for her when they were about to scene together. “Yes, Master?”

  “Rytsar needs refreshment.”

  “Da, I do,” the Russian growled, licking his lips seductively.

  Brie smiled. “What would you like, Rytsar?”

  “Chilled vodka…and you.”

  “I’ll have the same,” Sir stated.

  Brie stood up, her heart racing as she bowed to Sir. “If it pleases you, Master.”

  She left both men on the beach, walking the short distance to Rytsar’s house. Brie had a soft spot for his beach home. Rytsar had taken her to this place after he’d won her bid at the Submissive Training Center auction. At the time, she’d no idea he spoke English and could understand every word she said.