Cocky Bastard

Page 10


He stood there again for a long moment and then began to strip out of his pants. The sound from the slow unzip of his jeans made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. His thighs were thick and muscular; his boxer briefs hugged his legs like a second skin. I held my breath when his thumbs hooked into the top of his boxers, and he began to peel them off of his body. He bent to slip them off and then stood.

Holy mother of all cocky bastards. He was hung. The thing was dangling more than halfway to his knees. I took a sharp breath in, realized it was audible, and quickly slapped my hand over my mouth. I kept it there until he was completely dressed, afraid a moan might slip out.

When he was finally done, I watched him climb into his sleeping bag. He rolled onto his side and faced my direction. It made me wonder if he was looking at me. Then he flicked off the light.

“Night, Aubrey.”


Perhaps I could have been imagining it, but his voice sounded as thick and needy as I felt.

“Night, Chance.”

I took a deep breath and shut my eyes, attempting to regain my wits. Then it dawned on me for the first time…had he just watched me give him the same show and returned the favor?

Where am I? That was the first thought that came to mind as I woke up. After a few seconds, everything registered. Sunlight attempted to permeate the tent. I lightly patted my bedside before my hand tapping on the ground turned frantic.

Where was the goat?

I jumped up out of my sleeping bag. “Chance!”

“Hmm,” he moaned groggily from behind the divider.

“The goat! He’s gone.” A rush of panic tore through me. “He’s gone!”

I zipped the divider down without a second thought.

“Relax. He’s here with me.”

“Baa.” The goat let out that single sound as if to confirm that I had overreacted. My pulse immediately slowed down as I held my hand over my pounding heart. “Oh, thank God.”

Chance sat up and ran his hands through his messy hair. Blinking when he looked up, he seemed to freeze. “Jesus Christ. Are you trying to kill me?”

I looked down at myself and crossed my arms over my chest. I’d run over so fast that I hadn’t thought about the fact that I’d only slept in my bra and panties. “Shit. Sorry. I was so panicked. I wasn’t thinking straight and didn’t put anything on.”

Utterly embarrassed, I returned to my side and spoke through the closed divider as I started to get dressed. “So, how did he end up over there with you?”

“You were out like a light. He started rustling around, trying to break through to my side. The bugger wouldn’t calm down until I let him over here. Slept next to me the rest of the night. Worst fucking breath I’ve ever smelled in my life.”

I couldn’t help but crack up at that.

“You think that’s funny, eh, Princess?”

“I really do.” After throwing my last item of clothing on, I unzipped the barrier again.

Chance was standing before me half-naked only wearing his tight boxer briefs. He glared at me. “Privacy much? What if I’d just walked in on you like that a few seconds ago?”

He’d never looked so sexy, with his bed head and that almost angry look. My eyes unapologetically trailed down the length of his torso, down the thin line of hair leading into his underwear and stopped on his…massive erection.

Oh, God. Now, it made sense why he was suddenly modest.

Clearing my throat, I said, “You…you’re…”



“It’s called morning wood. I can’t be responsible for how I wake up…especially under these conditions.”

“Sleeping next to a goat. Did it turn you on?” I laughed.

“I was referring to your impromptu striptease a few seconds ago. And now, you barged over here again before I had a chance to calm the fuck down from it.”


“I can only take so much.” Chance slipped his pants on.

His stare was burning into mine. He looked even sexier with his arousal straining through his jeans. As much as I’d felt awkward for putting him in this situation, I loved the idea of being the one responsible for his hard on. In fact, my ability to handle my attraction to him was dwindling pretty fast. With each second that passed, the muscles between my legs were tightening from just the way he was looking at me. These were times I was grateful to be a woman because at least my excitement could be hidden. Still, this wasn’t a good predicament. I needed to break the ice.

Clearing my throat, “What are the plans for today?”

He slipped a shirt on. “We need to eat.”

“So, we’ll get breakfast out?” I stupidly asked.

“Yes, breakfast. What else would I be eating out?”


Choking over my words, I said, “No. Breakfast is good. I’m hungry. You?”

“Starving.” The look in his eyes implied that he wasn’t necessarily referring to food.

I was starving, too.

“Okay, then,” I said as I retreated to my side of the tent to cool off.

It took us about an hour to break down our campsite and pack everything back into my car.

We opted to stop for takeout breakfast at a fast food place that was just before the on ramp to the highway. Chance had gone inside to order our huevos rancheros breakfast burritos and coffee. I used the opportunity to take my phone out and typed into Google: Chance Bateman Australia.

There he was. A plethora of pictures popped up. There was one in particular where he was shirtless, wearing nothing but a white t-shirt draped around his neck, and you could see just a tease of the top of his juicy ass. The picture showcased his signature sexy smirk that made me squirm in my seat. That cocky smile. Goddammit, he was handsome. That same image seemed to be the one that came up the most. It was also the one that was being sold as a poster for a cool $19.99 plus shipping and handling. There was even a picture of some girl standing next to the poster on her wall pretending to bite his ass. I suspected there were other people out there playing their own twisted versions of pin the tail on the Chance.

Knowing he’d be back any minute, I was reading through old articles and message boards so fast that my eyes hurt. It was definitely evident that Chance was more well-known for his debut game injury and his looks than anything else. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for how he’d turned lemons into lemonade, though. Scrolling down, I came across some pictures of him at various events with the same attractive blonde model. Piper Ramsey. A twinge—well, maybe a boatload—of jealousy developed in the pit of my stomach.

A knock on the window startled me. I tossed the phone aside, and it fell into the driver’s seat. Well, more like I threw it over there.

“Open up for your coffee,” I heard him say through the window. I took my cup from him as he walked around and got into the driver’s seat. “What were you looking at?”

“Um, nothing. I was just…”


Before I had a chance to explain myself, he lifted the phone, scrolling through the pictures with his thumb. He then threw it down onto the center console. “Well, now you’ve seen it all, haven’t you?”

“Yes…and it’s…pretty amazing.”

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