Cocky Bastard

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Cocky Bastard Page 8

by Penelope Ward


  He unzipped his jeans and slid them down before tossing them on a chair. He stood before me in nothing but navy boxer briefs as he blatantly stared at my chest. “Your turn.”

  “Turn around then,” I said softly.

  “Do I have to?” he joked and flashed a wry smile before he moved to face the wall.

  Removing my tank top, I stared at the defined muscles of his back and then down to his ass. He was standing right under one of the bulbs of the recessed lighting. It shined onto his delicious derriere like a spotlight. The crack in the middle of it was perfectly outlined through the fabric. He had the most phenomenal ass. I wanted to bite it.

  When I unsnapped my bra and threw it on top of where his jeans were strewn, his breath hitched.

  I wrapped myself in the plush white towel and lay down stomach first onto my table. This was supposed to be a relaxing experience, but I definitely felt a little nervous.

  “You can turn around.”

  “You’re no fun,” he said as he lay down on the table next to me.

  “What did you expect me to be standing in front of you stark naked?”

  “One can only dream.”

  We were both on our stomachs with our heads turned toward each other. His eyes would occasionally travel down the length of my body.

  He whispered, “You okay, Princess?”

  Something about the tone of his question tugged at my heartstrings. I mentally cut them with an imaginary scissors. I was going to stick to my vow to keep my feelings in check if it killed me. “Yeah. I’m okay.” When he raised his eyebrow skeptically, I smiled. “Really. I am. This was a good idea. Thank you.”

  “I’m glad you’re pleased.”

  After ten minutes of waiting, I was starting to wonder if they’d forgotten about us when the door slowly creaked open. A small Asian woman named Anna walked around to the other side of Chance. To my left was a large, muscular man who resembled the actor Joe Manganiello.

  Chance’s eyes darkened, and he turned to the woman. “He’s gonna do her?”

  “At least someone’s gonna do me,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Yes. We find that it works best this way. Men tend to be more comfortable with a female masseuse, and our female clients really enjoy James. Is there a problem?”

  Chance was just looking at me, his mouth agape.

  “No. No problem at all,” I answered, looking straight into Chance’s eyes. “I prefer a man.”

  James’ voice was low and deep. “Please unwrap your towel and slide it off. You can stay on your stomach.”

  This was too good to be true. Cocky’s plan totally backfired.

  Chance’s eyes were glued to every movement as I removed the towel from under me. Then, his gaze landed on the sides of my bare breasts pressed against the table.

  Anna dripped hot oil down the length of Chance’s back. He should have been closing his eyes and relaxing. Instead, he was looking straight at James pouring the same oil on me. I could see his back rising and falling as his breathing quickened.

  James started to rub the oil into my skin. At one point, his hands were massaging the very bottom of my back and were practically kneading the top of my ass. Chance’s gaze then turned into more of a death stare. He was seriously pissed, but I couldn’t help feeling happy about it.

  Watching the woman touching Chance in the same way was also getting me very riled up, but I was too preoccupied with his observing me to figure out whether I was jealous or turned on. Probably both.

  After several minutes of watching Chance follow every movement of James’ hands, I couldn’t help but ask him, “Are you okay?”

  His voice was hoarse. “No.”

  He was seriously burning with jealousy. I couldn’t figure him out. If he only knew that the entire time, I kept imagining it was him touching me. I wanted that more than anything.

  “How much longer?” Chance asked the woman.

  “Try to relax, sir. You’re extremely tight.”

  Forty-minutes later, our massages ended. Chance hadn’t taken his eyes off James’ hands the entire time. I suppose the only reason I knew that was because I hadn’t taken my eyes off of him watching me.

  Things were extremely quiet when Anna and James left us alone to get dressed.

  Chance’s back was toward me when I asked him, “How do you feel?”

  “Tighter than when I walked in.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I just paid 350-dollars to watch a man touching you for an hour.”

  “It’s okay for a woman to touch you but not okay for a man to touch me?”

  He suddenly turned around before I was dressed, prompting me to cover my breasts with my shirt.

  “It’s not okay for a man to touch you when I fucking can’t,” he snapped before turning back around, allowing me to finish getting dressed. After several seconds of silence, he finally said, “I’m sorry, Princess. I acted like a fucking asshole.”

  I really loved his jealousy.

  “You’re lucky I’m drawn to assholes. Cocky bastards, too.” Pulling my arms through my shirt, I said, “Turn around, asshole.”

  “Since I’m batting zero, I’d like to give you back your pass to choose what we do for the rest of the day.”

  “I’ll take it. I think we both need to cool off. Plus, we’re all sticky from that oil. Why don’t we just hang out at the pool?”

  “I’m down for that.”

  “Wait…we don’t have swimsuits.”

  “We’ll buy them at the shop downstairs. My treat if I can pick yours.” He winked.

  “Deal.”

  “Really?” He looked surprised. “You trust me?”

  “Yeah.” I smiled. “I do.”

  This was the new Aubrey. Carefree. I wasn’t going to get attached. I was going to loosen up and have fun with him.

  “Alright.”

  Chance surprised me with his choice of bikini. There were some really skimpy string ones, but he chose one with a modest sports bra top and a bottom that covered most of my ass. It was white with little black polka dots and had a small ruffle over the back of the bottom. He also bought a pair of sleek black swim trunks for himself that hugged his ass beautifully.

  We found two white lounge chairs next to each other and had brought snacks and magazines. It was late in the afternoon, so the pool area wasn’t as crowded. We’d both taken a dip together before returning to our spot to chill. So far, this might have been my favorite part of the trip.

  “What do you want to drink?” he asked.

  “Something frozen and fruity.”

  Chance got up to head to the bar. A few girls were ogling him as he sauntered toward the other side of the pool. He didn’t seem to notice how often people checked him out. Maybe he noticed but just wasn’t affected by it.

  After he returned with two daiquiris, we drank in silence.

  Playing with the paper umbrella in my drink, I looked over at him. “This is nice.”

  He smiled. “I’m pretty sure if there was anything I could choose to be doing in the world right now, it would be this.”

  “This pool is beautiful.”

  “It’s not just the place. It’s the company.”

  As he looked over at me in that moment, his eyes were telling me a story. They were telling me that he’d truly meant what he said. I believed that Chance wanted me, that he wanted to be with me, but that he truly couldn’t. Whatever it was that was holding him back was something out of his control. Those pesky feelings I’d been trying to suppress began to creep up again, so I buried my face in an InTouch Weekly magazine. Chance was sucking on a red Pixy stick when I got a sudden craving for sugar and asked, “You have any more of those?”

  “I just might,” he said, winking as he dug into the plastic bag we’d brought and handed me one.

  I started to suck on it and barely anything was coming out. Then, I looked down and noticed that there was a hole at the bottom end of the stick. The orange powder had s
pilled out onto my stomach.

  Chance laughed. “Messy girl.”

  “Do you have a napkin?”

  “No need,” he said. “Let me.”

  Faster than I could blink, Chance leaned over me and lowered his head to my stomach. He slowly ran his tongue along my navel, licking upward in one straight line to just inches from my breasts. I writhed under him, feeling a total loss of control as he lapped up all of the powder.

  “Mmm,” he moaned as he sucked the last bit of sugar off of my skin and licked his lips.

  My breathing was ragged when he returned to his spot on the lounge chair. He’d left me sitting there, completely aroused but in shock. We didn’t talk about what he’d done. He said he had to use the bathroom at one point and disappeared for a bit.

  Just like that, all of the resolve I’d built up today was obliterated.

  Chapter Nine

  Since the upper hand in choosing our activities was still mine, I decided I wanted to try a really nice restaurant for dinner.

  We ended up at the Foundation Room, which had a killer view that was sixty-three stories up, overlooking the strip. It was themed like an old country house with a cozy vibe.

  After we devoured the crab cake appetizer, Chance opted for the steak while I ordered the grouper.

  Trying hard not to think about how it felt when he licked the sugar off me earlier, it was to no avail. Every time I looked up at his lips, I could still feel them on me.

  We’d ordered two bottles of wine, which seemed to flow endlessly along with the conversation. We talked straight for at least two hours. Chance spoke to me about growing up in Australia and talked more about his years in training for a soccer career that never happened. We’d shared stories about our fathers’ battles with cancer. I’d divulged a lot of the details of my breakup with Harrison.

  I was feeling even closer to Chance. By the end of the night, it was as if I knew everything there was to know about him, except where his life stood now. That seemed to be the big black hole.

  Further adding to my angst, he’d gotten a phone call in the middle of dinner which caused him to get up from the table. I was pretty sure whoever it was had something to do with why he was holding back with me.

  When he returned to his seat, my heart was racing as I asked, “Who was that?”

  He looked me dead in the eyes, his tone serious. “No one important, Aubrey.”

  Instead of grilling him, I poured myself more wine. With each sip, a false sense of happiness overrode my insecurities. I became happier and happier.

  By the time we left the restaurant, Chance had to put his arm around me just to keep me balanced. I wouldn’t say I was piss-ass drunk, but I was definitely intoxicated. So was Chance.

  We were laughing about nothing. At one point, we stumbled upon a chapel. There was a sign that read, Fake Weddings Here.

  Chance stopped me in the middle of the sidewalk. The vapors of alcohol on his breath infiltrated my nostrils as he spoke close to my face. “Marry me, Princess.”

  “What?”

  “We have an illegitimate goat—a fake child together.” He laughed. “It’s only proper that we partake in a fake wedding ceremony to make you an honest woman.”

  “You’re insane!”

  “Shit, we can text a picture to Harry. How fucking awesome would that be?” His mischievous smile sent tremors of desire through me. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” He led me by the hand into the small white chapel.

  A large man dressed up as Elvis stood alone in the entryway. “It’s a good night for a wedding,” he greeted monotonously.

  “Do you need a reservation?” Chance asked.

  “We’re slow tonight. We can take you right now if you want.”

  Chance looked at me, his semi-drunken eyes glassy. “What do you say?”

  I shrugged. “There’s no license. It’s not real. So, no harm, right?”

  We each filled out a form with some of our basic information. For a cool $199, we ordered the full wedding experience that included a ceremony, five digital images, souvenir rings, a silk bouquet and my choice of borrowed dress. Before I knew it, I was being whisked away by a woman named Zelda with a mop of frizzy red hair. She brought me to a back room where there was a rack of assorted white dresses in different shapes and sizes. She had me try on a few different ones, and I ended up picking out a strapless, lace mermaid style gown that was a little too long. My boobs were also spilling out of the top. It was the one dress that I liked, though.

  Zelda helped me do my hair into an updo with tendrils framing my face. I had no idea what to expect when I walked back out there.

  Music began playing. “Are they starting?” I asked.

  “Your boyfriend must have picked a song, so yes.”

  “We’re supposed to pick the song?”

  “We have a library of music, and we usually let the groom choose while the bride is getting dressed. That’s the best use of time.”

  I recognized it as Marry Me by Train. Even though the whole thing was staged, I couldn’t help the butterflies that were swarming inside of me as the music played. As much as I knew this was fake, my nerves seemed every bit the same as they would have been were this a real wedding.

  This is ridiculous! Why am I so nervous?

  Zelda handed me my small bouquet of silk calla lilies. “Ready?”

  A deep breath escaped me. “Sure.” Suddenly, I could feel myself starting to sober up. This was not the time to lose my alcohol high.

  When I appeared at the threshold that led to the small aisle, Chance was waiting with one hand crossed over the other. He was still wearing the same fitted black button-down shirt he had on at dinner, except a small boutonniere was now pinned to the front. He looked so handsome and…nervous, too. This was the weirdest experience.

  As the music played, I took very slow steps toward him. My heart was beating through the tight lace fabric hugging my breasts. Halfway down the aisle, I tripped over my dress and nearly wiped out. Chance snorted and started to crack up, and I couldn’t help laughing, too. That definitely lightened the mood for the rest of my trip down the aisle.

  Zelda gestured for my bouquet as she positioned herself diagonally behind me. Apparently, she was my maid of honor, too. Elvis started to speak.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Chance Engelbert Bateman and Aubrey Elizabeth Bloom in holy matrimony…”

  “Engelbert?”

  He winked and whispered, “Not really.”

  Elvis continued, “Which is an honorable estate that is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently and soberly.”

  “Not exactly soberly,” Chance cracked.

  “If anyone can show just cause why they may not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”

  We both looked behind us to the empty seats. You could have heard a pin drop.

  “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”

  Zelda spoke from behind me, “I do.”

  “Will you be using standard vows, or do you have your own?”

  We answered at the same exact time.

  “Standard,” I said while Chance blurted out, “I have my own.”

  “You have your own?” I whispered.

  “Yeah.” He grinned.

  “We’ll start with the bride then.” Elvis recited the standard vow, and I repeated them word for word after him.

  Then, it came time for Chance to speak.

  He paused, closed his eyes briefly then looked into my eyes as he took my hands in his. “Aubrey, from the moment you opened your smart mouth and called me an asshole in the first few seconds we met, I knew you were a pistol. At first, I thought it was the stick up your ass. I later realized it was just a protective mechanism. You’d been hurt, and you didn’t want to let anyone in. Sometimes, those who put up the biggest shields are those who are protecting the biggest hearts. My Gram used to always say, if you want to know th
e size of a person’s heart, look at how they treat animals or those that can offer them nothing in return. For some reason, you decided to trust a random bloke long enough for me to figure out that you have the biggest heart there is. You are just as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. You turned what started out as a miserable trip into the adventure of a lifetime. You can’t begin to understand how much this time with you has meant to me. If you take nothing else from this, please remember that you deserve to be happy.”

  Tears were stinging my eyes.

  Oh. My. God.

  He’d caught me so off guard with that speech that it stunned me into silence. It was beautiful, but also sounded awfully like a cryptic goodbye.

  There wasn’t a trace of humor in his expression. He’d meant every word.

  I heard nothing else that Elvis said up until, “By the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, you may now kiss the bride.”

  I wasn’t looking at Chance anymore. I just shook my head repeatedly to let Elvis know he should skip that part, that Chance and I wouldn’t be doing that. “We’re not gonna kiss.”

  The next thing I knew Chance’s big, warm hands had cupped my face as he leaned in and growled over my mouth, “The fuck we aren’t.”

  In an instant, his lips devoured mine. My legs went almost totally limp. My heart was beating out of control as he pressed his body into me. He nudged my mouth open unabashedly with his tongue as it went in search of mine. Unable to get enough of the sweet taste of his breath, I opened wider, letting him in. He moaned into my mouth as I moved my hands upward to tug on his silky hair. He stopped kissing me long enough to lightly bite my bottom lip before releasing it. The kiss then became hungrier. I had no idea how long it lasted because a sense of time didn’t exist for me anymore.

  Elvis coughed. “Alright. That’s nice. We have another couple now waiting to get hitched.”

  Chance pulled away.

  Completely dazed, I looked up at him. His hair was all messed up from my fingers running through it. His stare was penetrating, and he looked just as bewildered as me.

  What the fuck just happened?

  The mood changed as we exited the chapel and found two couples waiting in the lobby. The first couple looked like they might skip the wedding and go straight for the honeymoon—right there in the lobby. The groom was dressed in an American flag suit consisting of red pants, a blue jacket spotted with stars, white shirt and a red and white striped tie. When he released his vacuum suck of his future fake bride’s face, he lifted her into his arms, and I saw that she had on a matching outfit, only hers was an American flag bikini.

 

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