Page 11 of Cocky Bastard

When I’d been with Austin, I’d felt free. Like I could be myself with no expectations, no rules, and no strings attached. I didn’t have to be Jude Kane. I could just be Kanan.

A knock on the door startled me and I sprang apart from Austin like I was suddenly expecting the SAS to come crashing through the door.

“Don’t panic,” he said with a smile. “It’s your surprise. I’ll go and get it.”

I ducked out of sight as he strolled over to the door, pulling his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. I heard him pull the door open, the sound of voices, and the clink of glasses and crockery as something was pushed into the room. I frowned, wondering what the fuck Austin was up to. I hadn’t been able to catch everything he’d said to the guy at the front desk, mostly because I’d deliberately moved away so I wasn’t spotted.

Austin had joked about romance, but he hadn’t actually done something ridiculous. Had he?

“Ta-da,” Austin said, pushing a fancy trolley around the corner with a cocky smirk on his face. “Never let it be said that Austin Carter can’t do romance.”

“What the fuck?” I laughed, trying to ignore the wild, giddy feeling spiralling through my chest as I stared at the trolley. In the middle was an enormous silver platter of fruit arranged artfully around a ramekin of melted chocolate with macaroons and little pieces of cake positioned in amongst the fruit. And when I looked closer, I realised they’d been arranged to look like little hearts.

There was also an ice bucket with a bottle of Taittinger champagne and two flutes and a bouquet of white roses. Where the fuck they’d found roses at this time of night was a mystery, but this was a top London hotel. They could pull miracles out of thin air.

“I promised I had something for you,” Austin said as he walked around the trolley, picking up a plump strawberry and dipping it in the pot of chocolate. He held it out to me and it was impossible to resist taking a large bite. The sweetness of the fruit burst on my tongue, its juice running down the side of my mouth. Austin grinned and leant in to lick it up before eating the rest of the strawberry. “I also promised you it wasn’t my dick.”

“I wasn’t expecting this,” I admitted. “It’s…” I didn’t have the words. I was too in shock. We’d never done anything like this. What the hell had prompted Austin to do it now? Not that I was complaining…

“Just say thank you, kitten. And then help me eat this.” Austin picked up a cherry and popped it into his mouth. “Then we’re going to take a bath with the jets on, drink that champagne, and after that I’m going to fuck you.”

“What if I want to skip straight to the fucking?”

“Then we drink the champagne afterwards.” He held out a macaroon, the smooth top decorated with a pink powder. “What do you say, darling? Want to get a tiny bit tipsy with me?”

“Grab the champagne,” I said, relieving him of the macaroon and taking a bite. The pink powder had to be raspberry becausethe flavour of the sharp fruit and rich white chocolate filled my mouth. I reached for the platter and grinned. “I’m bringing this. And we’re going to enjoy ourselves. Because that party had no food and I’m fucking starving.”

Austin laughed. “I knew there was a reason I liked you, Pendleberry.”

My stomach flipped and my heart skittered in a way I’d never experienced before in my twenty-seven years.

And I couldn’t even blame the champagne.

CHAPTER FIVE

Austin

“You know,when you said a bath with jets, I didn’t picture an actual fucking hot tub in the floor,” Kane said, grinning across at me with his glass of champagne in hand. His hair was wet and slicked back off his face, his expression more relaxed than I’d seen it in a long time.

I wasn’t sure if it was the two glasses of champagne, the hot tub jets bubbling around us, the food, or because he didn’t have to be on for once, but whatever had caused it, being this laid-back suited him.

“Don’t any of the other suites have this?” I asked as I picked up one of the last macaroons and shoved it into my mouth. Damn, I’d be happy to live on them. They were so small but so fucking tasty. “Surely whatever fancy-ass room you usually stay in has a bath?”

“Yeah, it does. But not like this. Did you book the fucking presidential suite or something?”

“I didn’t think so.” I thought back to when I’d checked in. Had they said anything about an upgrade? I didn’t think so, butI’d been so focused on seeing Kane I hadn’t really been listening. “I’m well off but I’m not that fucking rich. And also that would be a fucking waste of money just for me.”

“Well, whatever the fuck happened, you got a nice room.” Kane slid closer towards me on the tub’s bench seats before climbing into my lap and straddling my thighs with his glass still in hand. My hands automatically reached out to grip his waist and hold him in place. Grinning, he downed the last of his drink, then put the glass down and reached for the bottle. There was still a little champagne left in it. He took a swig from it, wrapping his lips around the mouth of the bottle. I stared at him, my throat suddenly dry.

“Want some?” He held the bottle out, turning it around so he could pour some into my mouth. I smirked and slowly parted my lips. Kane tilted the bottle up, pouring a stream of sparkling gold onto my tongue. Then he took another swig, pouting when he realised it was empty. “You should have gotten two bottles.”

“No,” I said. “Because then you’d actually be drunk, and I’m not fucking you when you’re like that.”

“Why not? You know I want it.”

“Maybe, but I’m still not doing it. I’m a slut, but I’m an ethical one. Besides”—I brushed my lips across his—“I want you to remember everything I do to you.”

Kane groaned and the empty bottle clinked loudly as he dropped it lightly onto the tiles. I thought I heard it rolling away but I wasn’t going to bother turning around to check. I had better things to do. Kane had wrapped his arms around my neck and was kissing me, his tongue sliding into my mouth as he ground down onto my lap. Under the water I felt his cock growing hard against mine, and I growled, my hands tightening on his waist.

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