Page 59 of Cocky Jerk

“You and Hound…” He bites the side of his cheek and his jaw goes rigid. “You said he wasn’t your boyfriend.”

“He wasn’t.”

“But you were involved.”

“Briefly,” I admit. “That’s over, Marco.”

He gives that some thought. His eyes slice back to mine, and he shakes his head.

“It’s not for him,” he says in a gravel tone.

If I had it in me, I might’ve laughed. It was over for Hound before it even started, but I doubt Marco wants to hear any of that. He draws out a deep breath and rolls down his window. Turning his head, he shouts for the offensive horn blowers to fuck off and slams his foot on the gas.

We ride to his apartment in silence. Once we make our way inside, I go straight into the kitchen and open his freezer. Popping some ice cubes from the tray, I wrap them in a dishtowel and make my way into the living room.

“I got you…” my words fade as he pulls his shirt over his head. “Ice…I got you some ice for your hand.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m going to take a shower,” he says, closing the distance between us. “Make yourself at home,” he adds before giving my lips a quick peck.

Something feels off with him, but we’ve both had quite the night. Emotions are high, and I suppose I’ve given him a lot to absorb. Nothing will throw a guy into a tailspin like revealing your dad is a notorious biker with a rap sheet.

“Right,” I say, lifting the dishtowel awkwardly. “I’ll just go put this in the freezer in case you change your mind after the shower.”

He gives me another peck and disappears down the hallway. I go to the kitchen and put the towel with the ice back in the freezer. A moment later I hear the shower running in the bathroom and I make my way back into the living room. Taking a seat on the couch, I drop my head into my hands and my father’s face flashes before me. I wonder if he heard what Hound said or if he walked up afterward. I like to think he wouldn’t let his protégé talk about me like that, but the man I saw tonight was a different version of the man who raised me. Tonight, I was treated to the side of him he preserves for his rivals and I didn’t like it. I don’t know what happens now.

Even if by some miracle I can smooth things over with my dad, I don’t want to be anywhere near Hound.

His words replay in my head, and I cringe.

I can’t believe I got involved with him. That I gave him the ammunition he used against me tonight. I guess that is what happens when a girl has horrible self-esteem. She kneels for some undeserving prick, hoping she’ll hold his interest a little longer. It doesn’t work, and he throws her aside like she’s yesterday’s trash. She wonders what she could’ve done to keep him. What she did wrong. But it’s not her. It’s him and that’s something she doesn’t realize until another man comes along and kneels forher.

Suddenly I’m on my feet, pulling my shoes and clothes off as I pad down the hallway. Reaching the bathroom, I turn the knob and push the door open. Steam immediately engulfs me as I step inside. I spot Marco through the foggy shower glass. Keeping his head bowed and his good hand braced against the tiles, he lets the water stream down his back.

I swallow at the sight of him as my feet carry me closer. His head lifts and he turns, his eyes find mine through the glass before trailing the length of my bare body. Silently, he opens the shower door and I step inside.

His gaze continues to rake over me, pausing at my chest and I notice his cock jutting between us, fully erect. My fingers itch to touch, my mouth begs for a taste.

I lick my lips and take a step closer.

“Is this okay?”

He doesn’t reply with words, instead, he backs me up against the cool tiles and lowers his mouth to mine. A moan rumbles deep in my throat as his tongue slides along mine. Reaching between us, my fingers close around his thick cock. Using slow, even strokes, I work his shaft, letting my thumb occasionally caress the head.

He groans into my mouth before breaking the kiss and touching his forehead to mine. With his eyes cast downward, he watches as I cup his balls with my other hand.

“Christ,” he hisses.

“You like that?” I whisper.

“I fucking love it,” he rasps, meeting my gaze.

“Then maybe you’ll love this too,” I say. Keeping my eyes on his, I drop to my knees.

“What are you doing…no.”

“No?”

“Antonia, you don’t have to—”

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