Cocky Senator (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 5)(7)

By: Faleena Hopkins



That was the hottest sex I’ve ever had in my life. It wasn’t his size, though I was a fan. I’ve had some good-sized penises in my day but size doesn’t matter unless you know what you’re doing with it. He knows. Oh, he knows. The way he grinded and growled while telling me that dirty story? Fuck. Wow.

I mean, holy fuck and wow wow wow.

“Can I get you something to drink?” a pretty flight attendant asks.

I offer her my most practiced smile. “Yes. A double of whatever whiskey you have.”

Her delicate eyebrows twitch up. It is noon after all. “Ice?”

I’m smiling but my eyes are telling her not to fuck with me. “That would be lovely.”

She gets the message and leaves to accommodate my request.

As I slide my handbag under the seat in front of me I marvel aloud, “Why are people so fucking judgmental when they have no idea what’s going on in your life?”

Sitting back I congratulate myself for exhibiting such restraint with Justin. If I’d stood in that room a moment longer, or walked out with him at my side, I would’ve offered him my card.

Spending days checking my phone in hopes of a call that would never come, is not how I want to live my life.

My eyelashes flutter to the window in search of a distraction from the replay of sexual images splashing across my mind. Down below, men are laughing while they load all of our luggage into the cargo hold. They look happy with their job, don’t they?

Well, that’s nice to see.

I wonder what kind of lives they lead outside of here.

Do they grab a pitcher of beer with the boys every weekend and play fantasy football?

Do they have dogs? Families?

“Hello Wifey.”

My spine stiffens before my head slowly turns. We lock eyes, Justin Cocker’s tall frame blocking out everything but his beauty.

He points to the numbers above our row. “My boarding pass says I belong here.”

As my mouth falls wide open in an unflattering way, Justin slides into the empty seat next to mine and stretches out his long legs. The legs that were holding me up as he fucked me just minutes ago.

Turning back to the window, I whisper, “This isn’t happening.”

The flight attendant returns with my drink. The one I regret ordering now that I have a witness. “Double whiskey,” she announces like a total bitch, handing it to me across Justin’s lap.

“Thank you,” I mutter, deeply mortified as I glance to his entertained expression.

Her eyes go soft as they drink in the stunning architecture of his face. “Can I get you anything?”

She meant that. Anything.

He jogs his thumb my way. “I’ll have what my wife is having.”

Disappointed, she mutters, “I’ll be right back.”

As he slims his seatbelt to fit his athletic frame, Captain Huge Cock asks, “You visiting Atlanta?”

“What makes you think I don’t live there?”

“You seem more Boston to me.”

“Thank you.” I want to down this whiskey. It needs to be in my bloodstream ten minutes ago. Now I have to appear like I don’t want it.

I’m not a problem drinker.

It’s just a really hard day for me.

Really hard.

Hard.

My eyes fall to his lap and dance away with sweet memories replaying despite my best efforts to appear polite. He caught me. That’s what I hate most about having looked…the smirk he gave that told me he saw.

He decides to remove his suit jacket after a moment of concentration. Even in these large seats it’s not easy to get out of a tight fit like that custom-tailored piece. He moves to the edge of his chair and wriggles out of the sleeves, muttering, “Excuse me,” as he knocks his leg into mine. He didn’t touch me on purpose. It’s kind of adorable that he’s trying to remove that jacket smoothly and it’s not working.

“What are you smiling at?”

“Am I smiling?”

He eyes me. “You are.”

I motion for him to come closer. He leans toward me and offers his ear. Cupping my hand around it I whisper, “Someone just fucked me in a closet.”

He doesn’t flinch, and instead meets my eyes with a look that disintegrates my already damp panties. “Oh? Lucky guy.”

“Very lucky,” I smile, leaning back.

He crooks his index finger for me to return to him. I can’t help but do so. He hovers by my ear and breathes in it a second before rasping, “That’s funny, because two of my fingers smell exactly like an insanely hot woman I just fucked…in a closet.”

“You don’t say,” I breathe, eyes heavier.

His tongue licks my earlobe and I shiver. “It’s the truth. I swear it.”

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