Cocky Biker: A Stand Alone MC Romance Novel (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 2) by Faleena Hopkins

leans back and stares at the ceiling, fighting to get ahold of himself.
    And I’m watching all of it.
    “It’s so much, Jett.”
    “I know,” he mutters.
    “In my mind, we just met.”
    He exhales and whispers, “Yeah, I guess it would feel like that to you.”
    During the awkward silence that follows, he reaches under the blankets and adjusts himself, swearing under his breath.
    The kisses and knowing what he’s done for me, has stirred my body, too. But I’m too weak to do anything. The urge to touch this man is strong. I’ve never had a reaction to anyone like this. He’s different.
    But I’m not.
    I’m me.
    Still…I owe him. He’d never say that, but I do.
    “Jett, would you do something for me?”
    “Anything.”
    “Well, it’s kind of…for you.”
    He glances over. “I don’t need anything.”
    A small smile tugs at my mouth as I purposefully scan his blanket, hovering over the place where his erection is, and then meet his eyes again.
    “Yes, you do.”
    He blinks. “What do you want me to do?” he asks carefully, and I can hear the curiosity in his voice. “Why am I gettin’ the feeling you’re gonna suggest sex? Because as much as I fuckin’ want to, there’s no way I’m risking’ it.”
    “But you could take care of yourself.” He stares at me. I lower to a whisper, the idea turning me on. “Jett, stroke yourself in front of me. I want to watch you make yourself feel good.”
    He sits up and leans on one arm, the muscles flexed under his weight. “You serious?”
    “Mmmhmm.”
    Jett glances to the door and rises up, walking to the curtain. He pauses and looks at me, then pulls it shut.
    There’s a little bit of pain in his eyes as he walks to the side of my bed, like he’s needed this. I lay my hand on his hip, slipping my fingers under his shirt and pressing them into his skin.
    “You really wanna watch me stroke it for you?”
    “Never done that before.”
    His eyes darken. “How many men have you been with?”
    “You want me to ask you how many women you’ve been with?” I shoot back with a challenging smile.
    But he isn’t smiling at all. “How many?”
    “Seriously?”
    “Yep.”
    Sighing, I confess, “Very few, if you must know. Three.” At his surprise, I hold his eyes. “Men and I have a history, Jett. No, don’t feel bad. You didn’t bring anything up. I’m just answering your ill-timed question.”
    “Just three before me.”
    “Including you.”
    He pauses and I can’t read his expression. In a low rasp he asks the thing that was bugging him. “Did you love them?” He covers my hand with his, pressing it into his body. I glance to his white knuckles and tell him the truth.
    “I’ve never been in love.” Meeting his eyes, I ask, “You?”
    Slowly unzipping his pants, he says with meaning, “Just once.” Before I have a chance to register that, his enormous cock comes into view, almost full. It twitches up to meet his hand as he reaches for it with his free hand.
    He leans down, brings my hand to his lips and kisses my fingertips, then puts my hand where it was on his hip. “You strong enough to hold me there?”
    I nod, my senses tingling. I was thinking I was doing this for him, but now that it’s begun and I see him stepping out of those jeans all the way, and tug off that shirt, too, I’ve gotta admit…I need this, too.
    This is life.
    Feeling this awake when you’re with someone.
    Wanting to touch them.
    Wanting them as close as you can get them.
    He palms himself and groans as he begins to stroke that shaft. My eyes blaze a trail up to his face, over his abs and his chest rippling with halting breaths. Our eyes lock and his eyelids lower slightly as his lips fall open. “Fuck, I want to be inside you.”
    “Tell me what you’d do.”
    He groans and closes his eyes a brief second. “I’ll tell you what I WILL do,” he grates through gritted teeth, gazing at me sensually. “The second we’re outta here I’m gonna eat that