Book Cocky Novels & Stories

I fully expected him to flinch, get awkward, maybe offer an excuse. But this asshole? He was undefeated. In the cockiest, most confident tone while shrugging, he said….. “So what? I was watching your breasts.”

I'll be back. "I know," I shrugged nonchalantly only to have him falter in his movements to observe me, which was another thing I noticed about him. He seemed to take the time to watch you all in an aim to figure you out, "And I thought I was cocky," he chuckled. "I think the more appropriate term is confident. You owe me an explanation so I don't think the debt is covered," I clarified pushing myself off the sink to come stand before him not the least bit deterred by his height. "You owe me answers too," he grinned slipping a wink that most would find cheesy and as a result I wound up rolling my eyes whilst watching him slip through the door and out of my space to probably lodge another gun

The bastard. “Don’t get cocky,” I muttered, shifting to hide the way my side throbbed. He leaned back deeper into the couch, arms folding. “Not cocky. Just… noticing. Someone should, since you act like bleeding out on the floor is normal.” “Because it is,” I shot back. “That’s the job.” He shook his head, that half-disbelieving laugh spilling out of him. “You’re insane.” “Probably.” Silence again — but this time, it wasn’t sharp. It was softer. Dangerous in a different way.

This was something I had lived with my entire life, and there was no way I wasn’t going to be able to accomplish this fight. I flexed my fingers, still half-shifted, claws twitching like they had a mind of their own. “Then I guess I'd better stop breaking first.” Coach gave a short nod. “That’s the idea.” He stepped back, giving me room. “Again. This time, go for the ribs. Fast and clean.” I circled, crouching low. “He won’t leave them open.” “He will. Everyone does when they’re cocky.” Coach bared his teeth. “And trust me, he’s cocky.”

I shrugged. “Cocky bastard” he muttered.

He was a man of Violence, I was never that kind. I may have been angry, unapproachable, some might even say stoic but never violent. But at that moment that I stared into that woman’s eyes, I was none of those things anymore. “Who are you?” She asked and I was tongue-tied, a smirk creeping to the corner of my lips. “Take a guess” I muttered. “I dislike cocky men, just so you know” She blushed slightly but she meant her every word. “Cocky?” I echoed. “That's a first. I don’t usually hear that word.” I said and she rolled her eyes to the back of her head. “Fine,” I clamored.

The vision of her boyfriend that leapt to mind was of a big muscular dude with a dick that would make a pony envious. My hesitation and my "Um ..." in reply to her suggestion made her chuckle, and she said, "Don't worry, sweetheart; he's not a BBC; he's an ABC. That means average black cock." She wiggled her ass, and added, "His cock stretches my little asshole about the same as yours does." She took my hands from her ass and cupped them under her big tits, as I replied noncommittally, "I, um, look forward to meeting him ... I think."

Her hands were shaking as she gently lifted the fabric up and exposed her niece's massive cock. The aunt gasped as she saw it. Kendal had clearly not been exaggerating. Coiled against the girl's body was a massive cock. Aynsley was very surprised by its obvious soft texture and uniform pink color. Aynsley wanted the cock so bad. She loved the way A-class cock's looked when they were limp. She had always wanted to suck off an impotent A-class Hish, just to feel the thick, soft flesh enter into her mouth and feel the cum shoot out of it like a fire hose into her throat.

I don’t believe it either. On my other side, Coit walks more confidently. At seventeen, my brother is the epitome of the cocky male, ready to attack anyone and everyone who might seem a threat to him. The only problem is, he has yet to meet his wolf, so against the likes of these bloodsucker, he’d be as good as dead in a matter of seconds.

What the fuck have I done? A sharp knock rapped against the tinted window, Jon’s tetchy frame startling upright. Dark eyes narrowed, adjusting to the shadows of the street, resting irritably on the jostling shoulders of Booker’s withering physique. Flinging open the door, Jon snapped, “What the fuck, man?” Now doubled over, Booker cackled, slapping his knee, “Who would’a thought? Big, bad Jonny boy’s scared of a li’l knockin’! Your face…” he trailed off, peals of laughter shuddering his weathered chest.