Page 21 of Cocky Jerk

Richie doesn’t know I took a hit from Soraya’s husband, though. I start to think that makes him the perfect candidate to confide in. Lord knows I need someone to straighten me out and the hazing might be worth it if it means putting Antonia out of my head once and for all.

“I met this girl…pulled her over yesterday and gave her three tickets.”

His eyebrows shoot up and I can tell he’s struggling not to laugh in my face.

“A chick gave you that shiner?”

“No, you jackass,” I hiss, gritting my teeth. “Her boyfriend did.” I pause and shake my head. “Hell, he’s not even her boyfriend. I don’t know what the fuck he is.”

“So, wait, let me see if I got this straight. You pull some girl over, give her three tickets and her man takes a fist to your face?”

“Not exactly,” I groan, preparing myself for the cackling that’s about to ensue as soon as I tell him the whole sordid tale. “I told you about the anniversary party for Tig and Delia that Soraya roped me into helping her plan, remember?”

“Yeah,” he replies, narrowing his eyes. He slows for the red light and turns to me, giving me his undivided attention. “Well, yesterday I had to meet her for lunch to discuss the party and when I got to the office to pick her up, I discovered the girl I pulled over was Soraya’s new intern.”

“So?”

“So, apparently she dropped her license when I pulled her over and accused me of stealing it.”

A grin teases the corner of his lips as he flips his gaze back to the street.

“Oh, this is too good.”

“Shut up, dick.”

Fighting the smirk, he clears his throat.

“I’m sorry, go ahead.”

I’d take a fucking bullet for him, but that doesn’t mean I have to like him. In fact, right now, I can’t fucking stand him.

“Anyway, after I convinced her I didn’t take her license, I went to lunch with Soraya as planned but I couldn’t stop thinking about her and even if I could, Soraya wasn’t gonna let me.”

I pause, recalling our conversation and the text she sent once she left.

Send her an edible fruit arrangement

It’s not a terrible idea.

Before I realize what I’m doing, I reach for my cell phone and pull up Soraya’s number.

“What are you doing?” Richie questions.

I have no fucking idea, but when a woman consumes your every waking thought, you need to do something. The only way to get her out of my head is to get my fill of her. Then I won’t spend every minute wondering how she tastes. I’ll quit thinking about wrapping all that wild hair of hers around my fist and I’ll stop imaging what sounds she makes when she comes.

Jesus.

It’s worse than I thought.

“Dude, you’re sweating,” Richie comments. “Are you having a heart attack or something? A stroke, maybe?”

Ignoring him, I press the phone to my ear.

One night, that should do it. The dreams will come to an end, my dick will calm the fuck down and I won’t do ridiculous shit like searching the rap sheets of criminals she may or may not have fucked.

I listen as the phone rings and my gaze snaps back to Richie.

“What do you know about the Corrupt Hellraiser’s MC?”

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