Blue-Collar Bad Boys Next Door: The Full Eight-Book Collection

by Mazzy King

  “Bullshit,” Curtis growls. He steps farther into the apartment. “I said, where the fuck is Nancy?”

  I back up until my back hits the fridge. “She’s not here. And you need to leave!”

  “You and I need to have a little chat,” he says through his teeth, walking menacingly toward me. “You got me fucking arrested.”

  “You got you arrested,” I snap.

  I barely have time to duck before he takes a swing at me.

  Being small and having a big brother who taught me how to defend myself come in handy sometimes.

  “Curtis, stop it!” I shout. “What did you expect was going to happen?”

  “I expected you to mind your own fucking business,” Curtis bellows at me, and grabs my wrist before I can scamper out of the way. “Now I had to beg my parents for bail money, I got a court date, I lost my job, and I lost Nancy—all because of you!”

  I jerk uselessly in his grasp. “You being a monster is my fault?”

  He yanks me closer. “I came over here to have some words with Nancy. She’s not here, so I guess you’re going to pay for her.”

  “Let me go,” I hiss, shoving at him.

  “You’re not going anywhere until I say you can.” He leers into my face. “And that’s not gonna be for a while. I ever mention how hot I always found you, even though you’re a little bitch?”

  “You have one second to let her go.”

  The deep, stern voice carries the edge of a snarl, and relief makes me go weak. Curtis sneers at Axel, his grip on me loosening just a fraction.

  “Who the fuck’re you, soldier boy?”

  “No one you want to fuck with.” Axel steps toward us. “Promise you that. Now let her go.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “Let. Her. Go,” Axel says softly.

  On the outside he seems totally calm, but the knuckles of his clenched fists are white, his jaw clenches and unclenches, and his eyes turn stormy, like clouds over the ocean.

  “Fine.” Curtis wrenches my wrist as he shoves me away, and I cry out in pain. I stumble, then catch my balance just in time to see him swing at Axel. Axel swings up a forearm to block the wild punch, then drives the heel of his other palm into Curtis’s chest. Curtis grunts in pain, clutching his own forearm as he backs up. Even from across the room, I see the huge bruise immediately forming beneath his wrist.

  Axel takes a wide sidestep over to me, never turning his back to or taking his eyes off Curtis. He slides one arm around the front of my waist, nudging me behind him.

  “You need to leave,” he tells Curtis, who looks like he’s gearing up to launch himself at Axel again.

  “You going to make me?”

  “If I have to.”

  “Fuck you,” Curtis spits.

  “Get out of here!” I yell, my voice shrill. I hold up my phone, where I’ve dialed 911 but haven’t connected the call yet. “Unless you want to go back to jail?”

  Curtis steps back. He fixes me and Axel with a deadly glare. “This isn’t even close to being over.” He throws the door open and stalks down the hall.

  Axel follows, standing in the doorway until Curtis is gone, then turns and walks back to me. He cradles my face in his hands, his gaze narrow and searching.

  “Are you all right?” he murmurs, looking me over. He examines my wrist where Curtis first grabbed me, then slung me around. “Bruise here. Can you rotate it?” He gently moves my hand in a circle, testing my wrist.

  I wince. It aches, but it’s not excruciating. “Yeah, I think I’m okay.”

  “We’ll put ice on it.” He brushes a thumb down my cheek. “Tell me. Are you really all right? Do you need a minute?”

  “I just want to get out of here.” I mean to say it in a strong voice, but it comes out almost in a whimper.

  He nods and picks up first the other duffel and then the box. “You got it.”

  I follow him down the stairs, half expecting to see Curtis waiting to lunge at us from the shadows at every turn. But he’s gone. And outside, Axel’s truck is unharmed, all tires nice and full, no scratches anywhere. And still no sign of Curtis.

  Axel carefully loads the rest of my things into the bed of his truck as I climb into the cab. He gets behind the wheel and reaches over to take my hand.

  “You’re safe, you know that, right?”

  And when he says it…I believe him.

  6

  Axel

  Blair lounges at my small kitchen table while I chop and sauté and stir and whisk. When we got back to Port City, we went to a local mom-and-pop grocery store in town that’s the best place for finding high-quality produce and goods specially imported. It’s all pretty pricey, but it’s worth it.

  I’m whipping up fig-jam-glazed chicken with rosemary mashed potatoes and roasted green beans and carrots. I’m not sure when I started liking to cook so much, but there were days after my father left my mother where she wasn’t able to get out of bed, and I was left to my own devices to make sure we both ate. I know she still has a ton of guilt around those days, which is part of the reason why I suspect she insists on cooking for me every single week.

  After getting back to the duplex, I helped Blair drop off her things. She stayed on her side, putting it all away, and I took a shower and changed out of my uniform. Now I’m in jeans and a plain black V-neck T-shirt.

  “You really look like you know what you’re doing,” Blair says from her seat. She’s sipping a glass of the chilled white wine we bought at the store.

  I smile over at her. It’s good to see her relaxed. It was obvious that encounter back at the apartment shook her up, and I’ve been doing my best to be solicitous of her feelings and also somewhat lighthearted, to show her she really has nothing to fear as long as she’s got me. It’s also a good distraction for me. The rage I felt seeing that piece of shit with his hands on her, hurting her, makes me marvel now how I only let him escape with a bruised forearm, chest, and ego, when I wanted to take him around back and dismantle him bit by rotten bit until there was nothing left.

  I guess that’s personal growth, or whatever.

  “I know a thing or two about the kitchen,” I tell her and swig from my bottle of beer. It feels like a Friday or Saturday night, but if it were, we’d both be at The Pit. I guess Mondays and Tuesdays are kind of our weekend now, even though I still have a small day job called the Army to go to. “I heard women like a man who can cook.”

  She cocks an eyebrow as she takes another sip of wine. “Oh, you have women, do you?”

  “I told you I don’t have a girlfriend.” I bite back a grin, transferring the sautéed chicken breasts to a plate so I can start the glaze. She knows I’m only teasing, but this banter makes my blood heat.

  “You can have women and not have a girlfriend.”

  “Yeah. That’s true—for some guys. Not for me. I think I also told you I’m a one-woman guy.”

  “Then that would make you a unicorn among men,” she says, a little bitterly.

  I cast a sidelong look at her, keeping one eye on the glaze so it doesn’t scorch. “You sound like you’ve had some bad experiences.”

  “My share.” She purses those mouthwatering lips, running a finger around the rim of her glass. “I’ve certainly never met a guy who can cook like this, although the jury’s still out on if it’s any good.”

  I smirk. “Take a deep whiff. You’re telling me that doesn’t smell delicious?”

  She giggles. “Yeah. I guess so.”

  “Good.” I cut the heat off under the glaze, pull the towel off my shoulder, and walk over to her. Bracing my hands on the arms of her chair, I slowly lean down until our faces are just inches apart. “And, Blair, just so you know—it doesn’t sound like you’ve ever had a real man in your life to take care of you the way you need and deserve. Any man would be blessed to have you in his life. Making you happy and keeping you satisfied would be a gift to a good man—the right man.”

  The heat that flashes in her eyes mak
es my cock so hard. Her eyes drop to my lips, and I want nothing more than to taste her, but I straighten. “Time to eat.”

  My mother always said, dinner first.

  Then dessert.

  Blair seems impressed with the meal—or maybe the realization that I actually can cook. At any rate, she finishes everything on her plate, which makes me absurdly happy for some reason. There’s this pull in my chest, this thing that makes me want to do things for her…forever.

  “Do you want to stay and watch a movie?” I ask, clearing our plates. She nods. Hands full, I lift my chin toward the small living room. “Pick whatever you want. I’ll be in as soon as I clean up.”

  “I can help,” she says over her shoulder as she heads to the living room.

  “You’re a guest,” I call back, flicking on the water.

  A moment later, her voice floats from the other room. “Axel? I think maybe Netflix is frozen or something.”

  I quickly dry my hands and head in to meet her. There’s a weird error message on the screen. She hands me the remote.

  “Let’s see here,” I mutter to myself, pushing buttons. After a while of nothing working, I end up turning the whole thing off and unplugging everything from the wall, waiting thirty seconds, and plugging it all back in. When I pull Netflix up again, it works. I glance over at the couch with a triumphant smile.

  Blair isn’t there.

  The sound of running water in the kitchen leads me to where she’s whistling to herself over a sink full of suds, scrubbing plates and pots and pans.

  My lips twist into a smirk and I saunter over to her, standing so close to her back I can feel her body heat. I can’t help checking out her ass—round and high and begging to be squeezed and smacked. I keep my hands in my pockets as I lean over her shoulder to murmur into her ear.

  “I thought I said you’re a guest.” My lips graze the shell of her ear.

  She keeps her eyes on her task, but smiles. “I’m not afraid of work. I earn my keep.”

  I carefully tuck one side of her hair behind her ear. “But you don’t have to with me.”

  Her hands in the water still. She turns her head, peering up at me over her shoulder. “Axel…what is this?”

  “What do you want it to be?” I ask. “It can be as much or as little as you want. I know what I want, but you get to call the shots.”

  Her throat moves as she swallows. God, I want to trace it with the tip of my tongue. “What is it you want?”

  I reach around her and gently tug her hands out of the water. Using the dish towel nearby, I dry them thoroughly for her, then slide my hands to her waist and turn her around.

  “I want you.”

  She licks her lips, and my hands tighten on her in response to the surge of primal desire that shoots through me. I check myself, keeping a good foot of distance between us. “But…but Maddox…”

  I draw a deep breath. “I love your brother like he’s my brother, Blair. And this isn’t something I like—feeling like I’m sneaking around behind his back. And maybe if it was only lust I feel for you, I would feel like it was sneaking. But it’s so much more. He knows what kind of man I am. I’m not a player. He’d trust me with his life…so I have to believe he’d trust me with yours too.”

  “If it’s not only lust…then what is it?” she asked. Her voice is soft, but not at all timid. I love the way she’s probing me. It tells me she’s a woman who knows what she wants, and she’ll never settle for less than that.

  “Something that goes much deeper than that,” I reply. “Why don’t you tell me what you want?”

  She’s quiet for a moment, her gaze fastened somewhere on my chest as she considers my question. Finally, she looks up at me. “I want you, Axel. I have since the moment I saw you at The Pit.”

  I suck in a breath. “And…what do you think about how your brother will feel? You know him better than I do.”

  Blair lifts a shoulder, lifting a hand to tentatively rest on my chest. “He’s rational. He respects me to make my own decisions. But he’s protective.” Her other hand joins the first, and she runs them upward until her fingertips lightly graze the sides of my neck. Her hazel eyes find mine. “But we don’t have to tell him anything right away, do we?”

  I can’t seem to stop staring at her mouth. “Not until we figure things out for ourselves. And…there’s no point in putting anything else on his mind when he’s already in a difficult situation.”

  “You probably know what that’s like,” she says softly.

  “That I do. Nine months at war can feel like a lifetime.”

  We gradually move closer until our chests touch.

  “Blair,” I murmur.

  “Yes?”

  “Can I do something I’ve been wanting to do since the second I saw you?”

  She bites her lip and nods.

  I gently cup her face and lean in, tilting my head so there’s no mistaking the thing I want to do. Her breath catches as I brush my lips to hers gently once, twice, gauging her reaction. Her fingers close around a small handful of my T-shirt, and I smile against her mouth. Her lips are as soft as I knew they’d be, plump but firm, yielding under mine.

  “More,” she whispers.

  “Roger that, ma’am,” I reply in a hushed voice, then pull her close. A few more soft kisses, and then our mouths open for each other, our tongues mingle, and I’m fucking gone.

  I’m not sure how long we stand against the sink like that, holding each other and devouring each other with slow, deep, wet kisses, but it feels like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

  I hoist her in the air and set her on the counter. Her legs open automatically and wrap around my waist, which only serves to make my dick hard as cement. Our kisses leave that slow, exploratory pace behind, gradually becoming hotter, deeper, more frantic. I can’t help pushing my hips into her, letting her feel just how much I not only want, but need her. And her heels dig into my lower back as she pushes herself hard against me.

  She breaks our kiss with a gasp and leans back to look me in the eye. “Have you been tested since the last time you had sex?”

  “The last time I was with anyone was a long-ass time ago, but yes, and I’m all good,” I pant. “Have you?”

  “Yes. I’m good. And I’m on the Pill.” Blair holds her face in my hands. “I want you to make love to me, Axel. And I don’t want there to be anything between us. I trust you. With my life.” Then she kisses me again, her lips somehow hotter, more insistent, needy.

  No more talking.

  I scoop her off the counter and carry her upstairs to my bedroom and over to the bed, where I set her down on her feet at the foot of it. She slides my T-shirt up, and I help her pull it over my head. Then her eyes grow wide and luminous as she runs her hands all over my muscled chest and abdomen, her fingers tracing my tattoos.

  “You’re beautiful,” she breathes.

  “I got nothing on you,” I assure her, then kiss her.

  Our lips only part long enough for me to pull off the silky top she’s wearing. I reach down to unbutton her jeans and wiggle them down off her rounded hips, kneeling to pull them all the way off. Under her clothes, she wears a white lace bra and panty set that seems to glow in the moonlight streaming through the open blinds.

  I kiss each of her thighs. “You’re stunning, Blair.”

  Rising, I reach down for my own belt as she backs up toward the bed. She lowers her bra straps as I rid myself of my jeans. Her breasts are as delectable-looking as the rest of her. They sit high on her slender body, round and generous, her nipples drawn tight.

  Blair bites her lip as I step closer, boldly gripping my long, thick, hard cock through my boxer briefs. I slide one hand up her silken side and back down over her ass, giving it a light squeeze.

  “Get on the bed,” I command softly.

  She sits down, staring up at me expectantly.

  I drop to my knees in front of her, one hand pressed to her back, and lean forward to kiss all over her
breasts, then suck and tease her nipples. She gasps lightly, the fingers of one hand tangled in my hair.

  I trail kisses down the flat plane of her belly, hooking my fingers into each side of her thong. She leans back on her hands and lifts her hips so I can tug them off, then pull them slowly down her legs and over her ankles.

  I glance up at her with a little smirk. “You’re going to have to spread those thighs for this next part.”

  Slowly, she parts her knees for me, propping herself up on her forearms to watch me.

  I kiss and lightly suck her inner thighs, trailing my fingers and grazing my lips lightly over her skin. I can feel her muscles twitching and tensing with each pass. She knows what’s coming, and the smell of her excitement grows stronger. And that makes me even more excited.

  I run my tongue all over her wet, puffy, pink pussy, my dick leaking precum when she lets out a high-pitched moan. I suck her lips and then her clit, making sure I keep my tongue moving the whole time.

  Her head drops back, her chest heaving with her pleasured gasps. “Fuck, Axel, that’s it. That’s what I want. Don’t stop!”

  I spread her open even more, pushing her knees up. I want her wide open for me. I work my tongue into her tight, wet hole, and her hips buck against me. Then I slowly slide it out.

  “I love it when you fuck my mouth like that,” I tell her in a husky voice, then return my tongue to her clit. I grab her hips as she lifts them up and rolls them wildly against me. Her moans stack and build until she finally explodes in my mouth with a hoarse cry.

  I can’t wait a second longer.

  I stand and yank my suddenly too-tight boxer briefs down, then pull her to the edge of the bed by her thighs. My bed with her on it positions her perfectly for me to slide my throbbing cock right into her.

  “Fuck,” I say through my teeth. “You’re fucking tight, baby.”

  Her hot, wet grip is paradise as I slowly start to fuck her. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything this amazing.

  Her cries are loud, echoing off the walls. She wails my name over and over.