Read Cocky F@#ker (Tangled Desires #3) Online
Authors: Misti Murphy
Cocky F@#ker (Tangled Desires #3) (19 page)
I turn into him, opening my eyes. He’s grinning at me, his dark hair flopping a little in his face. He’s still fully dressed. Right down to his shoes.
“You’re an idiot.” I laugh. “You’re going to ruin your boots.”
“I don’t fucking care.” He crowds me back against the tiles, presses his hardness to my leg as he covers my mouth with his for a lingering kiss that makes my heart beat funny. “I’ll ruin my boots for you. I’d ruin my whole fucking world if it meant I ended up here with you every time.” But he takes a moment to undress before he joins me again. My gaze is drawn to his cock, the thick length jutting proudly. I love that I want him and I love that I don’t want to hide it anymore. Mostly, I just love
him
.
“I was thinking,” he says as he lathers his hands with body wash and starts to massage my shoulders. “That you didn’t tell me how far along we are.”
“Almost thirteen weeks.” I sigh as his hands move to my breasts, his thumbs rolling over my nipples. “The night you came home. It’s weird that the first time we used protection I got pregnant.”
“Not that weird.” His voice is gruff in my ear. It’s a rumble on my senses that has my body responding with a flood of wetness. “That condom was probably ten years old. It was well past the use by date.”
“Are you serious? That was an accident waiting to happen. Did you even think of the repercussions?” I want to be mad at him for that, but his hands roam lower, settling on my belly, sketching slow circles on my skin.
“Of course I did.” His mouth draws a line on my shoulder, nipping and sucking at my skin.
Between the pleasure he’s leisurely drawing up in me and the heat of the water raining down on us I’m struggling to lock onto why I should be angry with him. “You could have gotten anyone pregnant. Do you realize that?”
“No.” He presses up against me, his cock pulsing against my ass. “I mean I didn’t think it would happen the way it did. We’d always gotten out unscathed. But there was only one girl I could have knocked up.”
“One was too many,” I say, as he pulls the band from my hair and starts massaging shampoo into it. I swear I get cross-eyed from how good it feels, tingles spreading all the way to my feet as I comprehend what he’s saying. “Just me. I’m the only girl you’ve ever been with?”
“Ever. You ruined me, you know. I was supposed to be some irresistible to women, cocky as fuck marine that women stumbled all over themselves to get with, but all I could ever think of was you,” he says, his voice thick with desire. “So those repercussions. These repercussions.” He walks his fingers from hip to navel to hip. “They were always going to be fine with me. Even when I didn’t think I could deal. Even when I told you I couldn’t. I knew if I got you to fall for me, if I got my head sorted enough to be reliable, you’d be the mother of my kids.”
“Me too,” I say as he turns me around and tilts my head under the water to wash out the foam. It’s somewhat intense to know we were each other’s firsts, and only. That we’ve both waited all this time for the other.
He takes a few moments to run conditioner through my hair, and it should be weird, but it feels really nice to be looked after like this.
Finished with his administrations he turns me around in his arms. “Do you think you’d ever consider marrying me? Again? At some point?”
“That might be difficult.” I lift up on tiptoe to slant my lips across his, and he grasps my ass. “Since we technically still are.”
A slow smile starts in his blue eyes, rolling like a wave across his features. He’s beautiful, and mine.
“I like that,” he says. “I love that even when you hated me, you couldn’t stop yourself from loving me. I love that you love me now and everyone knows it.”
Then he gets on his knees right there in the shower. A hand to my belly, holding me against the tiles while he hikes one of my legs over his shoulder and touches his finger to my clit. “Now I think there’s some stupid shit I said that I promised to make up to you earlier.”
Slow as molasses he touches me, his finger running along the length of my slit, dipping inside me to stoke the ache that makes me needy for him. I hold onto his shoulder, watching him, feeling him. This bear of a man that is and always has been only mine. My heart flutters with the knowledge, even as my body catches on fire. Then he puts his mouth to my clit, and I swear he murmurs ‘I love you’ over that sensitive spot before his tongue is everywhere. All over my pussy, thrusting greedily inside me. My fingers curl in his hair, and he slips a hand to my ass, pulling me tighter against his face.
It’s all I need to push me over the edge. The back of my head thuds against the wall and water runs down my face as I cry out for him. My climax, a blinding thing that rolls over me, is unstoppable as he laps every last bit of pleasure from me.
After, we dry off, and I tell him he didn’t need to make up for anything that happened today, because as much as I didn’t expect our secrets to come out the way they did, it’s perfect.
“Maybe I’m making up for the next cocky arrogant thing I’m going to do,” he says, picking me up and carrying me through the house to my bedroom.
Our bedroom, apparently. All his belongings are stacked along the wall near the door. And he gives me this unsure look that makes me fall a little more. Because he isn’t at all as cocky as everyone thinks he is, and all those beautiful flaws of his belong to me.
Maybe we’re unconventional. Maybe there’ll be times he drives me crazy, but I fucking love him for it anyway. I take his face between both my hands, bring his mouth to mine and whisper, “Take me to bed, husband mine.”
Mace
Chelsea’s asleep on her side, her leg draped over my hip, her foot tucked under my calf. Her cheek is pressed to my chest and she’s murmuring something. She’s been talking in her sleep these past few days, and I strain to make sense of the words, but I think it has something to do with the fact she’s so exhausted and she sleeps so lightly. Not that she needs to.
I’ve been awake now for an hour or so. I still don’t sleep as much as most people, but I’m okay with that, because it gives me ample time to enjoy holding her in my arms. The rest of the time I spend staring at my daughter.
When I came home near on ten months ago I didn’t know what the future held for me, didn’t know if I had one. Everything had seemed so impossible then. Now, my future is the perfect girl in my arms and the dark haired, blue eyed mini member of the Hadley clan. Pip-squeak came early.
I guess we should have seen that coming, since nothing with our little family had ever gone to plan. Not even reading all the books on babies I could get my hands on could prepare me for how my world would get turned upside down.
Mia stirs a little in her cradle beside the bed, her mouth drawing up as she squirms, trying no doubt to get her fist to her mouth. Fuck, she’s beautiful and so very tiny. She makes this little mewling sound.
It’s almost scary how much my heart swells to know she’s mine. That everything I ever wanted and so much more are my future now.
My cell starts to vibrate on the nightstand, and I carefully extricate myself from under Chelsea without waking her before I answer it. I know who it is. There’s only one person whose time is screwier than mine right now. “What time do I need to be at the airport?”
“A couple hours,” he says. He’s coming back for the wedding, or weddings. I don’t know if he’s staying in between my siblings’ weddings or not. They’re a month apart, but last time we talked he’d been buying an apartment here, and talking about spending time with his niece. We’ve gotten to a place where I actually look forward to having him home.
“I’ll be there,” I tell him, heading into the kitchen to put the coffeepot on and warm a bottle. “Did you manage to pull that favor for me?”
“Certainly did.” He chuckles on the other end of the line. “Have you told her yet?”
“One last secret,” I say. “But it’ll be worth it.”
Then I hang up on him, because any minute now our tiny terror is going to let me know she’s awake and hungry. I like to say she got that from me, but I think it’s fairly standard.
Her smile however, she got from Hells.
Going back upstairs, I scoop her out of the crib and cradle her in my arms. Yes, I’m one of those sappy men now that makes faces and coos in an effort to get a reaction from the girl who rules my life. But then I was always willing to make an ass out of myself for her mother, too.
Chelsea rouses, as I sit on the bed and give pip-squeak her bottle. She tucks a hand under her cheek and smiles at me. And it’s enough.
This future, with my wife and my daughter. Yeah, I’m pretty fucking content with it.
Chelsea
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I say as I meet Mace at the bottom of the stairs. I wasn’t sure I wanted to redo our vows at first. It seemed a little overkill since we were already married.
Sure, I never expected our Vegas marriage to last. But it has, so I didn’t see the point of doing it again. Especially with two other Hadley weddings in the last troughs of preparation. But Tommy, Claire, and Mace ganged up on me. Even Rush got in on it. Vegas was fine, but it was secret and this family doesn’t do secrets anymore.
So now I’m standing in front of my husband, positively melting because there is something so insanely hot about this giant of a man, holding our tiny precious daughter dressed in the sweetest Pepto pink onesie in his arms. There’s such warmth in his eyes as he gazes up at me that my heart skips a beat.
Gaby has to practically wrestle Mia away from him while I smooth out the flowy ivory fabric of an actual wedding dress. Gem and Claire picked it out, then they cornered me this morning and got me ready despite my half-hearted protests.
Mace holds out his hand, gives me that grin, the one I can’t say no to. “Come on then, darlin’. We all know you love me.”
“I do.” I take it and let him pull me to him. Below us, where the others are congregated, there’s an Elvis impersonator. A friend of Rush’s who was only too happy to do him a favor and come all the way here for the occasion.
Like our first wedding, I don’t think I actually hear what he says as he begins the ceremony, because all I can concentrate on is the man in front of me and how incredibly blessed I am.
They say the third time’s the charm, and for us that definitely holds true. We might have taken the long way around, and there were definitely bumps along the way, but that’s what led us here. To this moment. This future. The one I dreamed of when I was too young to really know what love is.
Sometimes it’s messy, and hard, and frustrating, and you have to fight to make it work.
Sometimes it’s loud, like our family surrounding us.
But it’s also sweet, like our daughter.
And it’s stolen moments and peaceful hours spent wound up in each other.
And it’s perfect.
Because I get to experience it with the only man I’ve ever wanted to be with.
A man who looks at me like I’m his entire world, and when Elvis tells him he can kiss his bride, he sweeps me into his arms, dips me and brings his mouth to mine in a way that makes my heart catch fire all over again while his family, our family, cat call and holler.
“I fucking love you, Hells.” He smiles at me as he holds me against him.
“I know you do.” I cup his face with one hand and grin up at him. “Just as much as I love you.”
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About the Author
Misti Murphy is a sadistic b*tch who loves to emotionally torture fictional people. If she did that in real life she’d probably end up in prison or a psych ward so she prefers to create dirty talking alphas and the sexually frustrated women who fall into their beds. And if someone needs to be smacked upside the head before f*cking turns to love then that makes her very happy indeed.
She’s a huge believer in flaws making us human, and that not everyone likes bacon. She’s also addicted to chocolate and scared of the effects of the coming shortage. She swears like a f*cking trooper, and thinks that graphic smuttiness should be as real in fiction as it is in real life.
When she’s not writing she’s the perfect housewife and mother. Ha bloody ha! When she’s not writing she’s hiding in a cupboard with her kindle, scoffing chocolate, and stalking facebook.
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