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

  With as much grace as she could muster, she stood, naked and proud, and held out her hand. “Protection?”

  Flannigan’s brows furrowed then lifted. “Oh, yeah.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket and extracted a condom, handing it to her. Then he tossed the wallet on the table.

  She held the foil packet in her hand for a moment, and then turned on her bare heel and walked toward her bedroom, giving him her backside, naked from head to toe. She knew her body wasn’t a young twenty-something, but she was fit, her muscles were well-defined and tight. She could bounce a quarter off her abs. She knew, because she’d tried it.

  She’d taken a total of five steps when a growl sounded behind her, and she was scooped off her feet and carried at a much-quicker pace to the bedroom at the back of the apartment.

  She lay an arm over his shoulders and quirked an eyebrow. “You know I can walk like normal people.”

  “You’re not normal, and you walk too slowly,” he said, his tone raspy.

  His grip on her felt tight to the point of almost painful. A thrill of excitement ripped through Lola. This was a man who knew passion and kept it under control. Her challenge was to shake his control.

  Once he passed through her bedroom door, Flannigan tossed her on the bed and stood back. “I have to go.”

  What the hell? Lola blinked, her only outward reaction to his announcement. From the look of his narrowed eyes, this had been his plan all along. Thinking quickly, she knew she had to use the big guns to make this man stay and service her.

  She rolled onto her side and slid the condom package from her hip up to the curve of her breast, then flicking the tip of a nipple with the package. “Sure you won’t stay a little longer and put this little gem to use?”

  “I have better things to do,” he said, though his gaze followed the path of the foil square.

  Moving her hand, she brushed the condom across her belly and down to the juncture of her thighs, and then slowly rolled to her back. “Better?” She raised her brows, not that he was looking at her face.

  His cock was as hard and straight as a tire iron, ready to jack her up.

  Lola eased off the bed. “Let me show you to the door, since you’re in a hurry to leave.” She stopped in front of him and danced her fingers across his bare chest and downward, skimming over his ribs, past his belly button, following the arrow of hair to the thatch disappearing into his sagging jeans. His cock jerked in anticipation of her touch.

  Yeah, he wanted her, but why was he fighting that most natural of urges?

  Lola refused to let him leave before she’d had her way with him. Starting with his dick. She wrapped her fingers around it and tugged gently. “Unless you can think of another reason to stay a little longer.”

  His jaw flexed with tension. “I really need to leave.”

  She nodded and gave him a fake pout. “I understand. Say hello to Chance.” She reached lower and cupped his balls. “No, I’ll tell him myself.”

  Flannigan stood still, his breaths coming in rapid, shallow intakes. He gripped her arms and lowered her to her knees.

  Lola didn’t fight the commanding movement. This was where she’d planned to be even if he hadn’t placed her there.

  The thrill of anticipation made her pulse beat faster. She knelt before him, her face in front of his cock. “No going back now.” She touched the tip of his shaft with her tongue.

  A spot of come slipped out.

  Lola licked it off, loving the musky flavor of him. Then she traced the head of his penis at an excruciatingly slow pace, paying him back for giving her a condom, and then threatening to leave without using it.

  No effing way.

  Her core ached with a need only his hard shaft could satisfy. He wasn’t going anywhere until he’d taken her to a whole other point in the stratosphere.

  No, sir.

  And she wouldn’t let him go until she’d rocked his world so completely, he’d wish he was Chance Grayson, the man of her lust-filled dreams.

  Lola wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock and touched her tongue to the tip, swirling around its velvety smoothness. Then she let go.

  His chest swelled on his quickly indrawn breath.

  Good. He wasn’t immune.

  She cupped his balls in her palm and rolled them as though they were Chinese baoding balls, handling them gently but firmly.

  As she touched him there, she slid her tongue around the rim of his head, making a full circle before she trailed down his length and back up again. At the top, she enclosed him in her mouth.

  As if he were trying to fight his own instinct, he raised his hands slowly and buried them in her hair. His fingertips dug into her scalp, urging her to take more.

  Lola did, taking his full length, all the way to the back of her throat while twisting her tongue around his girth.

  Flannigan pulled himself almost all of the way out.

  Lola reached out and grabbed his buttocks and brought him back into her.

  At first, he moved in and out with an easy rhythm.

  Lips stretching, Lola made him go faster, guiding him by flexing her hands and squeezing his tight, sexy ass.

  Soon, the firefighter was pumping in and out of her, his head thrown back, his jaw tight.

  Yes, this was where she wanted him. Lola willed him to lose all control and come in her mouth.

  She brought him close; she could feel it in the way his body tensed. Just a little more, and she’d have him.

  At that precise moment, Flannigan pulled free.

  Noooo. Lola blinked up at him.

  He hooked his hands beneath her arms and stood her on her feet. “You will not make me lose control. Do you hear me?” He gave her arms a little shake.

  Her lips curled into a feline smile. “Of course not. You have complete control.” She pressed a hand to his chest. “Don’t you want to lie down and let me show you just how much control you have?”

  He shook his head, his breaths coming in labored pants, like a dog after a challenging run.

  Lola schooled her face to keep a triumphant grin from spreading across her face. She gave him a slight push.

  He fell onto the bed, his dick protruding from his jeans, his boots still on his feet.

  She straddled his leg backward and bent over, giving him full view of her ass and pussy, while she tugged off a boot. Then she stepped over his other thigh and removed the other.

  While she was still bent over, a hand smacked her ass, the sound sharper than the pain.

  Mmm. She practically purred. “Yes, spank me. I’ve been a very bad girl.”

  He smacked her other cheek, a little harder this time.

  She turned and straddled both legs, gripped the waist band of his jeans and pulled them over his slim hips and down his magnificent thighs and calves.

  He kicked them away with an impatient flick of his legs. Then he scooted back on the bed. “Come here, woman,” he commanded.

  “As you wish.” Lola crawled up his thickly muscled body like a cat playing with its prey. She bent her elbows, dragging her breasts over his cock, pausing long enough to squeeze his length between them.

  She skimmed her nipples over his belly, ribs, and finally to his hard, tattooed chest. “I’m here.” She rubbed her sex over the length of his cock before stopping with the tip nudging her entrance. “Your wish is my command.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Fuck me.”

  She smiled and leaned back, grabbing the condom where it lay on the bed beside him. As if she wasn’t the one on fire in anticipation of what was to come, she took her time to open the packet, fiddling with the foil until he ripped it from her hands.

  In less than a second, he had it open, the condom out and rolled over his enormous dick. By the jerky movements of his hands, his control was unraveling. Then he lifted her by her hips and settled her over his erection. “Now. Fuck me.”

  She nodded, her quivering body past ready for this final act, the one that would fill the lonely spac
e inside. A place that hadn’t been touched since the death of her dearly departed husband of ten beautiful years

  Flannigan, the loathsome, cranky, bully of a firefighter, would be her first foray into sex in six years. Six long years without a man to fill that empty space inside.

  She sank down. Once she was fully seated, she slowed her breaths to allow her channel time to adjust to his length and girth.

  This was what she’d missed. And the conversation and laughter. She missed so much about her husband. But she’d promised him on his deathbed that she’d move on. Just because he’d had cancer and died, she didn’t have to die with him.

  And now, she needed to be reminded of how alive she was.

  Luckily, Flannigan was doing a damned good job of reminding her.

  Daniel couldn’t believe how good Lola felt on top of him and how good he felt inside her. Her pussy gripped him, holding him firmly within. The woman had tight thighs and everything else. She didn’t look or feel twelve years older than him.

  And what did it matter she was that much older than him? She was right. Older women knew more about pleasing a man than the younger, more naïve ones. How could Chance have missed this little gem? How had he so easily dismissed Lola’s obvious charms? All because a few lousy years?

  He pumped up into her, loving how she tightened her kegels, squeezing his dick like nobody’s business.

  He had to focus on the wall behind her to keep from prematurely ejaculating. God, she had him wound up so tightly, he couldn’t think or see straight. All the hot blood raced to his erection, failing to feed his brain so that he could think.

  On the very edge of orgasm, he stopped, lifted her up and off him then pushed to his knees.

  He flipped Lola onto her stomach, raised her hips and plunged into her from behind.

  “Now you’re getting the hang of it,” Lola said, wriggling her ass for his pleasure.

  He thrust in and out, his hands on her hips, slamming her backward against him.

  Sensations exploded in and around him. He thrust one last time, then bent over her and captured her breasts in his hands. He remained buried in her until the pulsing lessened and his heart resumed its flow of blood to his brain cells.

  He eased Lola down to the mattress and rolled them onto their sides, maintaining their connection, his cock still thick and hard inside her. He liked the way she felt encasing him, her bottom pressed to his groin and the backs of her thighs resting against the front of his. Being with Lola was as close to heaven as Daniel could recall ever being.

  But he’d be damned if he let her know. She was cocky, too sure of her bedroom skills and would use that knowledge against him in one way, shape or form, or another.

  He had to make it clear that she should not be calling 911 for non-emergencies. And he needed to make it very clear that Chase Grayson was not the right man for her. His friend didn’t even know she existed. Or how good she was in bed, or even how sexy her legs were wrapped around a man’s waist. “I need to go.”

  This time Lola didn’t try to delay him. She rolled onto her back and touched herself down there, where he’d been licking, nibbling, and fucking her.

  Sweet Jesus, he almost fell getting out of the bed. He had to leave immediately, or risk falling back on top of her and doing it all over again.

  After scooping up his clothes, he ran from the room, zipping his jeans. All the way through the house, he could hear Lola chuckle.

  She had him, and she knew it.

  Well, he’d show her. The next time she called for rescue, he’d ignore the call and let Chance handle it. He would do his job and leave. Grayson wouldn’t fall for Lola’s sexual innuendos or ridiculous shoes. He’d rescue her from whatever bullshit emergency she cooked up and go on about his business.

  Daniel bolted for the front door, still pulling on his boots. When he stepped outside, he straightened, smoothing his hair, and tried to act natural.

  Mr. Harden sat on his front porch in a rocking chair. When he spied Daniel, he nodded his head in rhythm with the rocking, a smirk on his face.

  Daniel glared. What did the old man know anyway?

  He marched to his truck, climbed in, carefully, so as not to hurt his still-hard cock and drove home to a cold shower and an even colder bed. He refused to acknowledge the truth.

  Lola Engel had taught him a thing or two about what he really wanted in a woman.

  The following work day at the fire station, Daniel was on edge. Every time a cell phone rang or the station phone clanged overhead, he jumped.

  “What’s wrong with you, man?” Chance Grayson asked after Daniel nearly knocked him over when he’d spun to answer his cell phone.

  “Nothing.” Daniel shoved a hand through his hair and tried to calm himself. The shift was nearly over, and Lola hadn’t called in an emergency. He’d made it through the day without having to face the challenge. He let go of a sigh. “I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

  “Oh, yeah? Why? Did you have a big date?”

  Daniel’s head snapped up, and he stared at Chance with narrowed eyes. “Why do you ask?”

  Grayson held up his hands. “Just a guess. You’re really punchy, like you need to get laid or something.” He flashed him a smile. “Well, I’m calling it a day. I have dinner at the ranch tonight with my brothers. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  The intercom crackled. “We have a woman who needs assistance with a barbeque fire at the following address. Should only need a fire extinguisher to put it out.” Erma in dispatch listed the address.

  Chance shook his head. “That’s the Engel woman’s address, isn’t it?”

  Daniel’s heart tripped several beats and then raced ahead. “No reason for you to miss your dinner with family. I’ve got this.”

  Frowning, Chance held up his hand. “No, no. You took it last time. I’ll handle it this time.”

  “No, really. I’ve got this.” Daniel grabbed a fire extinguisher from the storage unit. “I know just what to do.”

  Chance walked with him out to his truck. “If you’re sure…”

  “Positive.” Fighting back a grin, he slipped into the driver’s seat, adjusted his jeans to a more comfortable position over his growing erection and shifted into drive.

  He knew just what the woman needed. And he was the man to give it to her.

  Roadside Assistance

  N.J. Walters

  “No. No. No.” Esme Jenson stared in her review mirror at the tow truck that had just pulled in behind her. She couldn’t be this unlucky.

  But even though the evening was closing in and dark clouds threatened rain, there was no mistaking the lean form of Vincent Durango as he stepped down from the driver’s side.

  Big and hard and tattooed. She was intimately acquainted with her rescuer. Had dated him during high school. Even back then he’d seemed older, more mature than any other boy she’d known. They’d both gone their separate ways after graduation, her to college and him into the army. For the first year, they’d tried to make it work, but their lives had taken different paths.

  Now their paths were about to converge once again. He’d gotten out of the service, settled back in their hometown, and opened his own garage specializing in custom body work and restoration. From what she’d heard, he had clients from all over the country.

  He’d always been good with his hands.

  He strode up to the side of her car and knocked on the window.

  She forced herself to roll it down.

  He propped one arm on the hood and leaned down. “Hey, Esme.”

  She was practically hyperventilating and all he had said was, “Hey, Esme.” She forced herself to look at him, hoping to see some gray in his hair or some lines around his eyes. Anything to detract from his rugged good looks. No such luck. His hair was still as inky black as ever. The few fine lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes only made him more appealing.

  He was still watching her, waiting for her to speak.
/>   She cleared her throat. “Hey, Vincent.”

  “Heard you were back in town.”

  The smile he gave her made her want to squirm in her seat. Even wearing jeans that had seen better days and a plain black T-shirt, the man was lethal to her senses.

  She wasn’t surprised he knew she was back. That’s the way it worked in a small town. Her mother had told a few friends, who told a few friends. It had probably taken less than a day for the entire town of Sorrow Creek to know she was home to stay.

  He nodded toward the hood of her car. “Trouble?”

  “Yes. I was about to call a tow truck.” Her misfortune or fortune—she wasn’t quite sure which it was yet—was having him pull in behind her seconds after she’d broken down.

  “Now you don’t have to. Open the hood, and let me have a quick look before we lose the light.”

  She did as instructed, taking the extra time to get a grip on herself. Just because she’d compared every man she’d ever dated to Vincent—only to have them come up lacking—didn’t mean she was ready to get romantically involved with him or anyone else again. For all she knew, he might be married with three children.

  Depressed by the thought, she opened her car door and joined him. “How does it look?”

  “Nothing obvious. And in another few minutes, it’ll be too dark to see. I’ll have to tow it back to the garage and have a look.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I’ll call Jimbo.” Jimbo Devane had run the local service station since she was a kid.

  “Why?” He closed the hood and studied her. “I’m here with the truck.” He reached out and ran his thumb along the edge of her jaw.

  Chills raced down her body, and her shiver wasn’t because it was cold. If anything, it was unseasonably warm for May.