The Blue Collar Bachelors Box Set: The Complete Blue Collar Bachelors Series

by Miller, Cassie-Ann L.

  And since Sophia is still bunking on Reese’s couch, the only friend who could take me in for the night was Charlie. So, it was logical for me to come here. Right?

  Yes, that’s a totally logical argument. I think I’ll stick with it.

  My gaze leaps to the doorway when Charlie saunters back into the room. At the sight of him, my mouth dries out. He’s wearing nothing but his dark cotton boxers. Every bulging muscle in his chest, every hollow ridge of his torso, every sinewy inch of his forearms is on display. And even with the best of intentions, a girl can’t help but gawp as he swaggers into the dark room.

  He flicks on the fireplace and takes a seat next to me. “Water?” He tilts a plastic bottle my way as the cushions of the couch shift under his weight.

  Like a dehydrated voyager stranded in the Sahara, I grab the bottle from him and suck down half of its contents in one go. “Thanks.”

  He grins at me, holding my gaze like he knows exactly how hard I’m fighting the urge to leap into his arms and explore every inch of his flesh with my tongue.

  “So, how was your day, Butterfly?” He angles his body toward me, throwing an arm over the back of the couch.

  The overwhelming heat of his nearly-naked form swallows me up and I take another gulp from my water bottle. “You mean aside from bearing witness to my parents’ mutual sexual reawakening?”

  He chuckles. “That’s what you get for still living at home at your age.”

  “What can I say? The Millenial clichés are true.” I laugh through my nose. “In my defense, my mom works 20 hours a day. And before yesterday, the only time my father stepped foot on that property in the past five years was to yell at her for egging his car that time he showed up in town with some woman he met on a cruise.” Charlie’s still laughing. The sound is sort of intoxicating, making my skin feel tight and edgy in this shadowy room. “You know my financial situation. It’s not like I’d be able to afford anything decent anyway. At least not without a roommate. And I don’t do roommates.”

  “Have you done any gigs lately?”

  I don’t know why, but every time he asks about my gigs, it makes me feel like I have wings. He truly believes that it’s only a matter of time until something good happens for me, career wise.

  “Actually, I got a phone call out of the blue the other day. This indie production company. They were asking about my Love Bugs comics. Said they liked what I had on my blog. They wanted me to send in some more sketches and story ideas.” I shrug a shoulder. “That’s why I asked you to bring my sketchpad to the restaurant that day.”

  He tilts his head, catching my eyes. “Nova, that’s awesome. Why aren’t you more excited?”

  “They haven’t even called back,” I chuff.

  “They’ll call.” There’s not an iota of doubt in his voice.

  I wave a hand dismissively. “I don’t want to get my hopes up. In case it doesn’t work out.”

  Dropping back against the cushion behind him, he lifts a brow and speaks with conviction. “Well, they’re idiots if they don’t see how amazing you are. They’re going to see how amazing you are. They have to.” His voice is so genuine, so encouraging.

  My chest warms up. I’ve come to depend on his confidence in me. I'm a tough girl with skin thicker than leather. A lot of that is thanks to Charlie. He was my rock when I was more fragile than porcelain. I hate to admit it to myself but I need this guy in my corner.

  I hold up a hand and twist my pointer around my middle finger.

  He smiles. “Yeah, fingers crossed.”

  We fall into a silence that buzzes with electric current. I find my gaze rolling over his body again. Remembering how, 24 hours ago, I was pinned down under that broad chest, anchored by those large hands, blissfully impaled by the rod of steel swelling against the cotton of his boxers. Warmth starts at my toes and skirrs up my thighs, building in intensity at my core.

  My panties are wet and now I’m self-conscious because I think he can tell. His eyes are on me, moving languorously from my lips to my neck to my breasts, settling there. No doubt in my mind what he’s thinking.

  Suddenly, I’m very aware of my surroundings. The soft light of the fireplace, casting shadows in the corners of the room. The cozy throw blanket tossed over the arm of the couch.

  I glance at Charlie. I’m onto you, fucker. If you think we’re hooking up tonight, you’re so fucking wrong.

  My breath stutters and my voice comes out all low and husky although I don’t mean it to. “Stop groping me with your eyes.”

  One corner of his mouth twists up. So maddeningly sexy. “Would you prefer that I groped you with my hands?” He moves an inch closer.

  “Charlie…” I warn.

  “Or with my mouth?” His voice drops an octave.

  “Don’t…”

  “With my tongue?”

  “Please…” As he closes the space between us, my defenses wither faster than organic spinach at a farmer’s market in the summer sun. He knows it.

  He smiles like I’m the most amusing thing he’s ever seen. His eyes settle on my lips again. “Kiss me,” he begs softly, as if my kiss has the power to save his life. “Kiss me, Nova.”

  His fingers trailing up my throat, his breath fanning the side of my face—that’s what does me in.

  I lean toward him as he’s leaning toward me and a thousand stars explode in the night sky when our lips touch.

  Tongues thrashing. Teeth knocking. Lips crushing each other.

  With his hands on my shoulders and his torso crushing mine, he pushes me back on the couch. One hand finds my breast and gives it a good squeeze as he climbs on top of me. Pleasure fires through my nerves as he kneads the sensitive flesh. I’m getting so wet.

  His mouth moves down my body, from my lips to my chin and down my torso, over my shirt. With impatient hands, he pushes up the fabric and tastes me there. And then my jeans are gone, thrown into the corner of the room and my shirt is pulled from my body. He works his way back up until his lips are on mine again.

  But kissing his mouth isn’t enough. There are other parts of him that I want to taste. Urgently.

  Pushing beneath his waistband, my hand travels between his thighs. A low hum vibrates his chest when my fingers clench and slide down his length. I feel it pulse in my hand. My thoughts go all hazy again. “Let me taste you, Charlie.”

  A growl rips free from his chest. “You want to taste me?”

  “I want your cock in my mouth. I want to taste you. Please.”

  I’m a proud woman. A feminist, even. So, it’s a surreal event, hearing myself beg for a man to shove his cock into my face, to fuck my mouth. But it’s so beautiful. So big, with throbbing veins and a glistening head. I just can’t help but want it sliding against my tongue, forcing against the back of my throat.

  Lying back on the couch, I reach for his hips and pull him until he’s hovering over my face. My lips fall open and I groan as he eases the spongy tip into my mouth.

  His head falls back as my lips seal around him, enclosing him in wetness and heat. The motion of his hips is restrained, controlled. I can almost see his skin tightening as he struggles with his willpower.

  When I swirl my tongue along his length, his knees waver and he reaches blindly for the back of the couch. “Shit, Nova…Fuck!”

  His moans goad me on, sparking my sense of adventure, stoking my curiosity. My palms glide over his strong, muscular ass before venturing between his thighs to massage his tight sack.

  And now, I’ve unleashed a monster. He’s thrusting into my mouth as he leans forward, clutching the arm of the sofa. My eyes burn as he pounds into me, fucking my mouth. I’m so turned on right now, so obscenely aroused. And when he growls, losing his self-restraint, exploding into my mouth, I’m shocked to find my body tightening from the sensations rushing up my limbs. As my mouth fills with his cum, pleasure arrows to my core, detonating an unexpected orgasm inside of me that radiates along my bones.

  Charlie drops backward, l
anding at the other end of the couch. He pulls me into his arms and holds me there as his breathing relaxes. When I look up at him, it’s pure awe on his face. “Did you just…?” His eyes are wild.

  I grin, feeling unreasonably proud of myself. “Uh-huh.”

  He drags a hand over his head and blows out a breath. “Whoa…”

  Whoa…is right.

  I’ve never orgasmed like that before. I didn’t even know that it was possible to get so turned on from having a cock rammed down your throat. My mind is absolutely, positively blown.

  His eyes glitter at me, adoration and shock and lust mixing in his dark irises. “Seriously, Nova—you’re the hottest chick I’ve ever met.”

  My pulse throbs in my bones. “You say that to all the girls.” I keep my voice light and playful to mask how deeply I’m hoping that his words are actually true.

  His forehead pleats, frustration perching on his brow. “I told you, girl. I don’t lie to you.”

  I hate the bubble that settles in my throat. I hate that I don’t have a snappy retort or some clever remark to throw back at him. Instead, his compliment seeps through my skin and into my bones, becoming a part of me. With a hand hooked behind his head, I pull him closer and kiss him, kiss him, kiss him.

  Charlie slides out from underneath me and stands. He reaches out a hand to me. “Come here, pretty thing. Come get this cock.”

  When I lace my fingers through his, he pulls me up and hoists me into his arms. I yelp and laugh, giddy as he carries me up the stairs.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Charlie

  I’ve never felt so overwhelmed, so bewildered. Woozy, disoriented.

  Nova is lying beneath me, head dropped to the side, eyes squeezed shut, lips pursed as she tries to keep from screaming. I suck my thumb into my mouth, then swipe the wet pad over her clit. Her reaction is a deep moan, an earthquake shaking through her.

  Damn, she’s so beautiful. Her body is like an amusement park. A dizzying rollercoaster of curves. Mouthwatering treats to lick and taste. And a pool of lust between her thighs that I wouldn’t mind drowning in.

  “Deeper, Charlie. More. Give me more.”

  I oblige, tilting her hips up and driving down into her. Her pussy ripples at the invasion, it throbs at the violence. Loud, popping bursts of air escape with each thrust.

  “You like that?” I growl into the flesh of her neck, my tongue running along the salty curve. I know she does but my ego demands to hear it out loud.

  She spreads her legs wider, inviting me deeper still. “Oh, Charlie. Please.”

  “Tell me, Nova. Tell me you like it.”

  She bends her spine. Curls her fingers in the sheets. “It’s so good, Charlie. It’s the best. So good.”

  My hips come down faster, faster, pounding, harder, faster. She’s tightening. Oh, fuck. I’m vaguely aware of the sheet popping off the corner of the bed, the framed painting shaking on the wall, the earth moving beneath my feet.

  “Oh god, Charlie, I’m coming,” she splutters and I press hard on her clit, rock my hips faster into her heat. She grows louder. “Charlie! I’m coming! Fuck!”

  Her pussy clenches. So tight. Shit.

  My brain cells explode one by one as the orgasm detonates in my blood. Wave after stunning wave, it batters me, taking everything from me, draining me of my senses.

  Her shivering hands run down my back. She’s watching me recover. Such blissful fascination on her face. I fall next to her and she shifts to face me. Bottom lip caught between her teeth, chewing on her smile.

  And I don’t know what’s happening in my chest. This feeling isn’t familiar. But the sight of her next to me, completely bare, sweaty, primal. My mind is spinning. A terrifying thought flaring in my skull.

  How did I manage to have her in my life all these years without having her in my bed?

  She and I have been friends forever but suddenly, it’s obvious that she was meant to be so much more. I’m not too sure what exactly but definitely more.

  The thought feels too big, too much. So, I just pull her into my arms and she buries her face against my chest. I sense her breath shuddering through me. Why does it feel like I could hold her forever?

  I mourn silently when she pulls back to look at me.

  We lie face to face. Nova runs her tongue over my lips, the smooth wet movement causing my body to light up like an airport runway in the dark of night. “You like that…” I pick up on the subtle gloating in her voice. She enjoys that she has this effect on my body.

  Not one to be outdone, I slide my hand down her back, cupping her ass in my palms. I spread the cheeks apart and run a slow finger through her folds. She tremors all over. “You like that.”

  A shaky, little laugh comes out of her. “You’re so arrogant.”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t like it. Don’t pretend that the best sex of your life didn’t happen in this bed in the last 36 hours.”

  She chuffs. “Please.”

  She’d better not play those games with me because it’s starting to feel like a whole lot more than my ego is on the line.

  My finger rounds the sensitive, little nub of her clit, gaining pressure and speed. She shivers again. “Are you saying I’m wrong?”

  She purses her lips and groans, deliberately refusing to answer. Such a stubborn girl. She won’t let me score an easy win.

  "I dare you,” I whisper as I rub her harder, “I dare you to come, with any other man for the rest of your life, without thinking about tonight, about me. I’ve ruined you, Nova."

  Her eyes squeeze closed. She keens closer. “You kiss your mother with that filthy mouth?”

  I grip her leg, swinging it across my body and forcing her to straddle me. “I eat your pussy with this mouth. That’s all you need to be concerned about right now.”

  A wicked, little curve owns her lips as I pull her up so her dripping slit hovers above my face. “Jeez. You talk like you scraped your vocabulary off the bottom of a bedpan, Charlie.”

  I lower her until my voice is a muffled vibration against her flesh. She’s moaning already. “Sit on my tongue. Let’s go through my dictionary from A to Z.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Nova

  I skip down the stairs two at a time as I button up the front of the shirt I found hanging on Charlie's closet door. It's huge and soft and smells just like him. I bury my nose in the fabric and smile. I could bathe in his scent. It's the stuff that addictions are made of.

  When I reach the landing at the bottom of the stairs, I stop and stretch, pulling both arms over my head and arching my chest up to the sky. The mandatory deep, guttural groan of satisfaction goes along with it.

  Stretching out my muscles feels refreshingly good especially after last night's rather athletic activities. Charlie Hartley sure knows how to give a girl a workout.

  I lean into my left hip, jutting it out and feeling my pelvis loosen. I repeat the motion on the right side, too. Then, I bend forward and touch my toes to relieve the tension in the backs of my thighs. The shirt rolls down my inverted torso, falling over my face.

  A very amused female voice speaks up. "Naked booty in my face first thing in the morning? Y'see, in college, I was totally into that sort of thing. Now, not so much."

  I shoot upright and spin around in the direction of the voice. "Sharon?!" Charlie’s secretary is sitting at the island with a bunch of paperwork spread out in front of her.

  She looks even more shocked than I do when she sees my face. "Nova?!"

  "You just saw my snatch!" I blurt out, completely mortified.

  She cringes. "I totally did." Her frown deepens. "It's an alright-looking snatch but not what I was expecting with my ginger ale and saltine crackers this early in the morning."

  Pulling down the hem of the shirt, I mutter an apology. I've had friendly chats with Charlie’s secretary over the years during my occasional visits to his office but we are absolutely not friendly enough to have shared that level of intimacy
.

  "I'm gonna just..." My voice trails off as I hook my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the stairs.

  She gives me a dismissive hand wave. "Are you serious? Get in here. Last week, I was spread-eagle on an examination table while my 60-year-old obstetrician probed my pussy with a cold metal object and half a dozen curious medical students watched. At this point, I’m not exactly the poster child for feminine modesty." She rubs a hand over her big belly. She looks like she’s a hiccup away from going into labor. "Come, come. Charlie made fresh coffee."

  Laughing and feeling a lot more at ease, I stroll into the kitchen and grab a coffee mug. Out the kitchen window, I get a glimpse of Charlie on the back porch, barking at whoever is on the other end of the line.

  Mmm...bossy. Who doesn't love a bossy man?!

  "Business call?" I ask casually as if there isn't a big, hairy 800-pound gorilla hanging out in the corner of the room.

  She nods, a smirk playing on her lips as she clears some of her papers so I can sit. "He's dealing with a permit application," she tells me.

  "Oh..." I bob my head slightly in understanding.

  When Sharon can't hold off any longer, she lowers her voice and grins. "So you and Charlie, huh?"

  Heat invades my cheeks. "Uh, we're just friends," I say with a casual shoulder shrug.

  The secretary scoffs. "Hun, Charlie does not bring his 'friends' back to his house. This place is his sanctuary. If you're here, wearing his clothes, drinking his coffee at 7:45 in the morning, it means something."

  I hide my expression behind my coffee cup as her words reek havoc in my brain. "No, honestly—we're just friends."

  Right then, Charlie’s gaze moves to the back door. He seems to spot me despite the sun's glare against the glass. With the phone still pressed to his ear, he steps closer and squints. When our eyes meet, he flashes me the single most breathtaking smile I've ever seen. My pulse quickens and my lungs hitch.