Could he?
“Really, you should be cocksure when you compile your work,” he continued, his face still as stony and still as it ever was, though I caught a gleam of laughter in his eyes. “This job is hard, so hard, and if you’re not careful, you’ll get cold-cocked by reality. It’s a cockfight out there, Rin, and you’ve got to be prepared. And if you ever want to curate, you should always take your research seriously. Especially when it comes to cocks.”
A small, shocked laugh burst out of me, and I said without thinking, “I wrote that cockamamie piece to make my friends laugh. We always laugh when faced with cocks. It’s why none of us have boyfriends.”
That broke him—his face bent into a smile that displayed the most gorgeous, toothpaste commercial teeth I’d ever seen in real life, and his laugh filled the room.
He shook his head, smiling down at the paper in his hand. “Man, it was so hard to keep a straight face, especially when you thought you were in trouble.”
“Not gonna lie—I was scared to death. I thought you were going to fire me.”
Something passed behind his eyes, something dark and hot and welcoming. “No, you’re not getting fired, Rin. Not as long as I’m here.”
I sighed my relief. “Well, good. I was all cockeyed about it.”
A laugh. “We definitely don’t want you acock. Do we?”
Yes, yes we do. Acock you, maybe.
Ugh, he’s your boss, Rin! Get it together!
I was trying to come up with another cock reference when he said, “I went over your actual research. Once again, you’ve impressed me. And just when I think I can’t be surprised, you prove me wrong. And I’m not often wrong.”
He said it with a touch of wonder in his voice, almost overpowered by the command in his tone and inflection. But I heard it loud and clear.
“Thank you, sir,” I said quietly. “If you didn’t have anything else for me, I should get back to work.”
This was a lie. All of a sudden, I didn’t want to leave that office.
He watched me for a moment, and I got the sense he wanted to say something. But instead, he nodded, pushing off his desk. “Glad you’re in the cockpit with me, Rin.”
And I smiled. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
About the Author
Writer, music lover, art lover, gamer, graphic designer, mom, ex-waitress
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Also by Staci Hart
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Romantic Comedies
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Cocky Couture
A Yours to Bare Deleted Scene
Jessica Hawkins
An equally sexy and cocky deleted scene from Yours to Bare, an Amazon Top 10 bestseller from Jessica Hawkins.
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Editing by AW Editing
Copyright ? 2018 by Jessica Hawkins All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cocky Couture: A Yours to Bare Deleted Scene
Through my camera’s lens, I watch my girlfriend stretch her arms up until her fingertips graze the top of the living room doorway. Halston’s black lace teddy doesn’t cover as much as I’d like it to, and her nipples are hard—they always are when my camera’s aimed at her. Before I can mention it, she repositions her long, blonde hair, fanning it over her breasts to make sure she’s fully covered.
She knows I’ll never publish these otherwise.
“How’s that?” Halston asks.
I check her over. I promised myself I’d be all business today, but that doesn’t mean I’m not tempted to put the camera down and peel that thing off her, strap by strap. I don’t really understand how a one-piece can be as sexy her next-to-nothing lingerie, but the way Halston wears it, my pants are getting tight.
I take her picture—the first of many we’ll get for today’s job—and check the screen to make sure I didn’t capture her face or any identifying details. “Good.”
“Just good?”
“Better than good, babe. You know that.”
“No I don’t,” she says. “I can’t see.”
I glance up at her. She doesn’t know. Every time I realize that, it surprises me all over again. We’ve only been together two months, but already, she’s my sun. Somehow, she manages to forget now and then how she lights up my world.
“You look good enough to eat,” I assure her. “And if we didn’t have a job to do, I would eat you. Right now, in that doorway.”
She blushes. I’m man enough to admit that since meeting Halston, the shade of pink that blooms over her cheeks has become my favorite color. I lift my camera and make sure to capture it for myself.
This Valentine’s Day photo shoot is sponsored by Butter Boutique, a lingerie and wellness company. After agreeing to it, we found out that a portion of the profits from their current line, Cocky Couture, will benefit the prevention of cruelty against farm animals while also raising awareness—and cocks, apparently—around the nation. Per our arrangement, I’ll post the best shots on our social media account with the purpose of driving our followers to Butter. I just hope anyone—male, female, or poultry—who sees that color warming the exposed skin of Halston’s chest and neck understands it was the man behind the camera who made her feel that way. Me. Her proud cock.
“Finn?” she asks.
I look up. “Hmm?”
“If the pictures are so good, why aren’t you taking more?”
Because I’m busy being in love with you, I want to say. It’s still new, though. I only just confessed how deeply my feelings run for her. I don’t want to spook her by saying it too often. “I’m just adjusting the settings,” I say instead.
Once the leotard has been thoroughly photographed, Halston leaves to change into another outfit meant to titillate and tease a lover. I open a window and check the lighting. When she returns to the living room, I gesture to the sofa. “Lie down.”
As she passes me, my eyes nearly pop out of my head. Her ass is on full display. “What the fuck is that?”
She looks back. “What?”
Even though I specifically gave Butter Boutique guidelines as to what we would and wouldn’t photograph, they sent a thong. “It’s too revealing.”
“Then don’t photograph the back,” she says.
They’ll know. People will look at my girlfriend and know there’s a string up her ass. “No.”
“But the photographs don’t even show my face. The whole point of this is that I’m anonymous.”
It’s true. Some of our success online is thanks to the mystery around Halston’s identity. The photos, artfully sensual, stand on their own, but our followers are also curious about her. I shake my head. “You promised, Hals. You agreed that if we did this promotion, I’d get to call the shots.”
After a moment, she nods. I have to draw the line somewhere. Last month, when Butter Boutique reached out to us, my original answer to having my girlfriend pose half-nude in cocky lingerie had been a resounding hell no. But Halston had forced me to see this was a joint decision. It’s her business too. It took some convincing to get me to agree, and the five-grand they offered us didn’t hurt, but my one condition was that I’d have final say over the pictures.
As she passes on her way back to the bedroom, I take her upper arm. “Hey.”
She looks up at me, her big, gray eyes open. Loving. “I understand,” she says. “Don’t worry.”