Blue Collar (A Boys Behaving Badly Anthology Book 2) Read online

  “You taste good, don’t you?” He bit her lip and shuffle-walked them backward until her ass cheeks hit a cold metal pole.

  Her fingernails sank into his shoulders.

  “I’ve got you, slugger. Safety first.” His eyes waggled. He rolled on a condom onto his thick cock. “Don’t you feel safe?”

  She shouldn’t feel safe hundreds of feet in the air with a man she’d just met, but she hadn’t felt so secure in a long time. “I can’t believe you work up here.” Saying that was easier than admitting the truth.

  Nash spread her legs wide and rubbed the tip of his cock around her slick cunt. With each pass, her clit pulsed and drowned in aftershocks. He braced her back and pressed the crown of his cock to her entrance.

  “I can’t believe I’m inside you up here.”

  She opened her mouth to explain that he’d yet to enter her. The barely-hinged man plunged deep, stealing her breath and her rejoinder. Laurel arched into him and screamed into the abyss again. “Pretty much, you can be inside me anywhere.” Her teeth sank into his shoulder to keep from calling out again.

  “I’ll take you anywhere you want me to.”

  The tips of his fingers gripped her hips. He set a breakneck pace straight out of the gate, pounding into her body as though he’d never had the pleasure of a woman before. It was the hottest damn thing she’d ever experienced.

  Holy fuck, he was going to scare this woman right out of his night—forget about his life—but he couldn’t rein in his passion. Her scents, her sounds, her taste drove him to the edge of sanity and launched him into the stratosphere.

  “You have me, Nash. You have me.” Laurel tossed back her head and rolled her hips in time with his frenzied thrusts.

  Her words were almost his undoing. Pressure gathered in his sack, but talk about too soon... “Yes, I do,” he rasped.

  Unwilling to miss an opportunity to give her another orgasm, he skipped pace for a beat and pulled down the straps of her bra. Small pink areolas centered perky breasts that would fit perfectly in his hands…later. For now, he dragged his fingers over one pointed tip and rolled and pinched it between this thumb and middle finger. Laurel’s stunning blue eyes went wide. He tortured her nipple until gasps shot rapid-fire out of her mouth.

  Nash slowed his strokes, tamping down his inner beast long enough to enjoy the way her hot, tight pussy hugged his cock. When he shoved deep, her taut little ass met him on one side, while her swollen clit and full lower lips hit him on the other. He hugged her close, clamped a hand on the back of her neck and soldered their mouths together. Her hair danced over his arms. Her heels dug into his ass. She kissed him like she never wanted to stop. He let her for a long minute, until she broke away, mewing for air.

  “I want to come inside you, Laurel.” Fuck it all, he never did bare, but the need to mark her clawed at his spine. He wouldn’t. Not tonight, but soon.

  “I want to feel you with nothing between us.” Her fingers dove into the hair at the base of his neck. Her gaze met his. “Yes, Nash. I want you. All of you.”

  Her words were all he needed to drive them to the brink, together.

  He pounded inside her. Laurel screamed boldly, holding nothing back. Every muscle in his body tensed. The overwhelming white noise of the orgasm that rocketed from his cock drowned out the world for a handful of seconds. When he came down, she was there, clinging. The pillow of her cheek rested on his shoulder, and her lips placed tiny kisses on his neck.

  He stroked a hand over her silky hair and down her back, but made no move to disengage their bodies. As far as he was concerned, they could stay that way all night, work be damned.

  Minutes passed.

  “If you were scared, why’d you get in the elevator?”

  She laughed against his neck, tickling him.

  “I’ve never been even a little afraid of elevators, but the building was so deathly quiet, and I couldn’t find you.”

  Something warm and fuzzy wrapped itself around his torso. “You came here looking for me?” He turned his head to read her gaze.

  Her swollen bottom lip tucked into her mouth, and she dragged it against her teeth. “I’d noticed you earlier, too.” She smiled, but then it faltered.

  The fuzzy stalled. Warmth hung on, because her arms clamped tighter around him.

  “I needed your signature on a report, so I hopped on the elevator to search the top of the building where you’d been earlier, and then the damn thing stopped. All I could think was I’d be trapped in it for days and die slowly, all alone.”

  Nash pressed a kiss to her forehead and dragged his lips over her cheek. “You’re not alone, Laurel.”

  Her fingers massaged lazy paths at the base of his neck. “No, I’m not.”

  “Let me take you to dinner?”

  “I’d love…” Laurel bolted upright.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The paper, I lost it in my freak-out.”

  She cupped his face and kissed the point of his chin—where he’d have a bruise tomorrow, a bruise he’d proudly don. “It’s in the elevator. Can it wait?”

  Laurel looked down between their bodies and sighed.

  “No, not really. Jeremy needs that paper to get the help he needs.” She started to pull away. “I’ll get out of your way. I know you were working before…”

  Nash held her in place. “I’ll get the papers and give you the signature. After we turn them in, we’ll go to dinner, and then you’ll come home with me.” He tried to pull away, but she flipped the script and held tight.

  “I’ll get the paper with you.” A sultry smile spread across her lips. “I want to make a new memory in that tin can.”

  Upside Down Love

  Adele Downs

  It’s true what they say about riding a bicycle or having sex. Once you know how, you never forget. Lillian Holmes pedaled along the coastal road while salted-breezes rustled her hair. Sunlight warmed her cheeks and made them tingle. She opened her mouth to taste the air, and the breath filling her lungs made her come alive in ways she could barely recall—either on a bike or in bed.

  The wheels glided along the macadam road, free of traffic this time of morning, and she almost…almost…let go of the handlebars to do a silly balancing act like she’d done as a kid. Instead, she held tighter to the grips, aware that skinned knees on mature flesh didn’t heal as well or as quickly as they once did. Her T-shirt, Capri pants, and sneakers wouldn’t offer much protection from the asphalt. She really should have bought a helmet to go with her bike, but they weren’t mandatory in Delaware, and accessories like a basket and horn could wait until another payday.

  In the spirit of learning to have fun again, Lilly shouted and squealed as she picked up speed. “Whoop, whoop!” Her voice pierced the air and scared the gulls perched near the home construction site on a plum spot facing the bay. The birds took flight, and she called out as they soared overhead. “I’m flying, too!” The seagulls screeched and found new places to land, clearly indifferent to her or her freedom.

  Lilly eyed the water, rippling softly at high tide, as blue as a pool of sapphires capped with sunshine. She’d been right to move to this beach town. She had the bay, the ocean, the boardwalk, and her book club to keep her company. Her convertible made driving to work at the bakery a pleasure, and her new bike would offer regular exercise. Who needed a husband of twenty-two years when she could fly?

  The birds scattered again when a backhoe rumbled, and Lilly slowed to watch the construction crew lay a foundation. A few of the guys glanced over at her, and the man operating the pile driver smiled. He looked to be her age, mid-forties, with a trim build. She couldn’t clearly see his features beneath his ball cap and sunglasses, but his expression was friendly and open and not at all salacious or threatening. For that reason alone, Lilly smiled back.

  The simple exchange warmed her from the inside, out. Maybe the divorce hadn’t stripped away her sex appeal along with her self-esteem, after all. The idea that she could a
ttract a new man hadn’t occurred to her…maybe because she hadn’t been paying attention. She let her gaze linger on the man as he continued his work.

  The pile driver hung in the air on a heavy cable, ready to plunge foundation holes deep into the soil. Rehoboth Bay rarely caused storm damage, but rising oceans made it necessary to build new homes on stilts as a precaution against unusually high tides.

  By the look of the layout, the house under construction would become the centerpiece of the neighborhood. Lilly took a deep breath and blew out her envy on a long exhale. She would never afford a place on the water. The owners of this home would enjoy spectacular views she could only see during her walks or from the seat of her bicycle. Still, she loved her little fixer upper and considered herself lucky to be part of this waterfront community.

  Lilly raised a hand to the construction worker, and he waved back, and she continued on her way.

  An oncoming car moved toward her, taking more than its share of the narrow throughway. Lilly hugged the shoulder, fighting handlebar wobble, as the tires crunched sand and cinders and the spokes got nipped by foliage.

  Just then, an enormous sound erupted from the construction area behind her, shaking the earth and sending tremors through the ground. Startled by the noise, she lost control of the handlebars. The front tire slipped as Lilly lost control, and the bike flipped sideways.

  Lilly heard herself scream as her bottom flew off the seat, her knee connected with a handlebar grip, and her shoulder took the brunt of her landing. When the back of her head slammed the blacktop, daytime turned to night.

  She didn’t know how long she’d been out when her eyes fluttered open. A thousand hammers pounded her skull. Lilly blinked and squinted against the sunshine, and then something moved to block the glare.

  She glanced at her arms from her prone position, but couldn’t see her legs. She fluttered her fingers then wiggled her toes inside her sneakers. Everything from the chest down seemed to be working okay. She let out a groan of relief.

  When Lilly looked up, the bluest eyes she’d ever seen stared back—bluer than the ocean on a perfect summer day, with lashes framing them in darkest ash. The man’s short hair was dark, too, though lightly salted around the temples. He leaned close, and the heat of his body skimmed her arms, raising goosebumps.

  She caught her breath, blinked, and blinked again. He had to be a vision, right? An illusion? The blow to her head had dropped her into the path of a man worthy of his own calendar.

  “Don’t try to get up,” Mr. July said. “I’ve got you.”

  Even in her fragile state, she could read the concern on his face. He brushed strands of hair off her forehead, causing her to wince—not because he’d hurt her, but because so much time had passed since a man had touched her.

  “Sorry.” Strong fingers slid away.

  Little did he know she would have welcomed his hand against her cheek, or the feel of his breath against the shell of her ear—in theory, if not in practice. A familiar longing surged through her to add to her misery. The wounds to her body were minor compared to the damage her ego had taken, but the combined injuries might never heal.

  “Is she all right?” came a voice from somewhere beyond Lilly’s range of vision.

  Lilly couldn’t tell if another man or woman had joined them.

  Mister July shook his head. “Not sure. I’m guessing she has a concussion. I called an ambulance.”

  Concussion. Of course. That would explain the pain in her skull and her inappropriate thoughts.

  He stood then, and she watched his fingers lift the hem of his T-shirt above his hard belly. A trail of fine, dark hair disappeared into the waistband of his low-rise cutoffs, and Lilly tracked the vertical contour beneath his zipper. Her glance dipped to his muscular thighs and up again, watching from her place on the ground as he raised his shirt over his torso in a glorious unveiling of bronzed skin. Though her head throbbed and her eyes teared, she couldn’t help but stare as he bared his chest.

  A body honed by years of physical labor stood before her. White scars crisscrossed his left side in vivid contrast to his tanned flesh. A faded military tattoo covered the pectorals over his heart above a smattering of dark hair. Brown nipples turned hard in the breeze.

  The man with the vivid blue eyes pulled the shirt over his head and balled it in one large, work-weary hand. Then he kneeled beside her, folded the shirt, and gently laid it beneath her head. Seagulls captured the scene from above.

  Though the morning air and the ground beneath her chilled her flesh, her eyelids grew heavy.

  The man took her hand and pressed it to his chest. His heartbeat moved against her palm like steady kisses. “If your brain is bruised, you need to stay awake.”

  Lilly met his gaze and marveled again at his gorgeous eyes. He smiled down at her, and the skin around those eyes crinkled.

  “Give her some water,” another voice said. A small crowd had formed.

  He looked up then, reached for the bottle of water someone handed him, and helped her take a sip. “Better?”

  Her head seemed to clear a bit. “I think I can sit up now.” Lilly leaned her elbows against the ground and tried to pull herself up, but her vision swam, and the pain in her head and shoulder thundered. “Ow. Maybe not.”

  He guided her back to the makeshift pillow. “Help will be here soon.” The man with the blue eyes dampened a cloth he pulled from his back pocket. Tenderly, he wiped her brow with cool water.

  Sirens drew closer, and soon, she was lifted into a vehicle and swept away.

  A nurse bustled into the room. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Not great,” Lilly replied, from her bed, “but I’m not complaining. I know I was lucky.” She almost managed a smile at the nurse, Jacque, but couldn’t quite bring it off. “The headache is gone, thank goodness. Riding my bike without a helmet was really dumb.”

  Jacque took Lilly’s temperature. “Your concussion is grade two. You were lucky; any worse and you might have had brain damage.” The nurse checked her vital signs on the monitor beside her bed. When she was finished, she said, “Short-term light sensitivity could be an issue. You’ll heal with time, but it’s also possible confusion and memory loss might reoccur. According to the ER doctor, you were pretty out of it when you arrived.”

  “I was?” Lilly clutched the edge of the sheet folded over her chest. Had she imagined the bystanders who’d helped her, including the man with blue eyes? “Has anyone called about me in the past twenty-four hours?”

  The nurse nodded. “Uh… yes, a woman phoned the nurses’ station. She wanted to know if you’d be okay. She said you lost control of your bike after you passed her car, and that she stayed with you until help arrived. We couldn’t give her your patient information, of course, but she sounded worried.”

  “Right. Okay, thanks.” Lilly hadn’t seen a woman at the scene, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been there. She wondered about the man with blue eyes who’d folded his T-shirt for her. Had he been real or a delusion? “No one else checked on me?”

  Jacque shook her head. “Not that I know of.” Her expression softened. “Were you expecting somebody else? Will someone come by to pick you up?”

  “No. I’m new around here.” Her daughter Anna lived across the country, and her ex-husband Matthew wouldn’t care enough to look after her. He had a new mistress to keep him busy. “I’ll call a cab.”

  Lilly worried she’d imagined Mister July. Maybe the knock on her head had caused her to hallucinate. Maybe she’d been so lonely the past year, and the years before that, when Matthew lost interest in their marriage, that she’d invented the handsome stranger with kindness in his eyes. Maybe her need for comfort had made her pathetic. She closed her eyes and fought back despair.

  The nurse turned to leave. “Breakfast will be up in a few minutes. Afterward, the doctor will examine you, and if you’re cleared to go home, she’ll sign your release papers.”

  Home. Lilly sig
hed and let her sadness fade. No matter what, she still had her little house near the bay, the beach and the boardwalk, and her book club. Maybe she’d make new friends in her community. Real friends. The kind who invited you over for coffee and good long chats.

  Home is what you made it.

  Two weeks later…

  Lilly pulled pans of test-recipe, pineapple upside down cakes from the oven seconds before her doorbell rang. She put aside her pot holders, pulled off her apron, and crossed the house to answer.

  A man wearing a ball cap and sunglasses stood on the threshold.

  She searched the foggy recesses of her short-term memory to place him but came up blank—until he smiled. Then she recalled her quiet morning on the bay and the construction worker manning a pile driver who’d waved before her accident.

  “I hope you don’t mind me stopping by,” he said. “Lilly, right?”

  She couldn’t hide her surprise. “How’d you know my name?”

  The man pulled off his sunglasses and took off his cap. Then he offered his free hand for a handshake. “I’m Theo Easton.”

  The instant her gaze met his brilliant blue eyes, Lilly caught her breath. She took his large, rough hand in hers. “It’s…you.” She hadn’t imagined him. The man who’d helped her after her fall was the same man who’d smiled from the construction site.

  “It took me a while to find you. I had to ask around the neighborhood. I wanted to see for myself that you’re okay.”

  Lilly released his hand, but their fingers brushed before she lowered her arm, coursing sensations through her that made her want to touch him again. “I’m doing well. Thanks. Come in.” She led him inside her tiny living room and motioned for him to set his belongings on a side table.

  Before Lilly could offer him a seat, Theo spoke again. “I think my pile driver scared you.”

  “What?” She had no idea what he was talking about. Lilly turned and saw remorse reflected in his eyes.