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

by Miller, Cassie-Ann L.

  Josh isn’t River’s father. I know that with certainty because he didn’t touch me for weeks before the wedding. Yet another red flag that I ignored.

  Anyway, recently, Clara’s been much more persistent in her efforts to see River. It probably has something to do with those divorce rumors that are going around about her and her cheating husband. Anyway, I’ve returned all her gifts but eventually, I'm going to have to face her and that's really not something I'm looking forward to.

  Distractedly, I swing the bathroom door open and step out into the dim hallway. My eyes are still on that text message, my mind filled with anxiety over how to handle Clara.

  I crash full-body into a human wall. Big and hard but vibrating with heated vitality. My skin bristles violently and my nose fills with a manly cologne that's too familiar.

  I lift my eyes slowly and my brain struggles to register the face in front of me, a face I never thought I'd see again.

  A torrent of shock whips at me, so strong it nearly knocks me off my feet. Am I dreaming?

  He looks just as stunned as I feel when the words stumble from his mouth. "Holy shit...Daisy?"

  Chapter Four

  Archie

  I'm not losing my mind.

  This isn’t just my head playing tricks on me again.

  This is very real. It's her standing in front of me. It’s Daisy.

  And she's gaping at me like she's seeing a ghost.

  "You're...you're..." Her fingers cover her parted lips, smearing her sultry red lipstick. "Oh my god. Tony? Oh my god." The words echo a mix of shock and relief.

  Fire shoots up and down my system, the discomfort normally chewing at my left side amplified by the mind-fuck of seeing her again. "Daisy...I can’t fucking believe it’s you."

  She launches forward, throwing herself into my arms. “You didn’t die!” She spits out a sound of relief as her tiny body squeezes to mine. My hands clench on her shoulders, her back, her hips on a quest to confirm that she’s the real deal.

  And she is. It’s really her.

  This isn’t like all the times when my mind fooled me into mistaking someone else for her.

  Her curves are more luscious and defined than they were two years ago but god knows she feels just as good—if not, better—in my hands.

  I laugh under my breath as I hug her. “No, I didn’t die. I’m really here. And you…Fuck, Daisy.” I squeeze her tighter.

  I didn’t want to come here tonight. But Charlie and Leo showed up at my motel room and insisted they weren’t leaving unless I came out to have a drink with them at this fancy lounge just outside of Copper Heights.

  While I was in the bathroom taking a piss, I overheard them saying something about some girl they wanted me to meet. It felt like a set-up. I told them I wasn’t interested. But eventually, they convinced me it would just be a group of friends hanging out.

  Anyway, here I am. And Daisy is standing in front of me.

  "I'm so sorry. I don't usually throw myself at people like that." She stares at me in the dim light of the corridor, her dark eyes full of wonder.

  She looks amazing. Sexy and sweet. The lace of her bra teases me from beneath her sheer black blouse. My cock throbs the way it did when I unhooked her bra and cupped her breasts that night in Vegas. Tonight, her curvaceous thighs are plastered against some tight, shiny-ass pants. I can’t help but think back on the way her legs felt around my back when I pushed up the hem of her dress and sank into the heat of her pussy two years ago. When her heart-shaped lips stretch into a smile, my mind drifts back to the way her mouth felt dancing with mine beneath the neon lights of the Las Vegas Strip.

  My cock is lumber in my jeans. “No worries.” I smile as I reach out and pluck a piece of green muck from her glorious raven hair.

  Distractedly, she brushes her fingers through her tresses, getting rid of the rest of the fluff herself. She stutters, "What...what are you doing here?"

  I reach for her hand and thread our fingers together. "I just got into town. Visiting some friends. Military buddies."

  When I say that, everything shifts in the air.

  Daisy freezes. Her skin blanches. Her eyes go wide. She wheezes softly for air. "Oh my god..." She pulls her fingers from mine and grips her stomach lightly.

  I step closer, right into her comfort zone. "Are you okay?"

  “I-it was nice seeing you.” Her smile hardens up like instant concrete. "I-I have to go.” She tries to slip under my arm and get away.

  What the fuck?

  I block her path. “Daisy—what’s going on with you?”

  Her body is practically vibrating with nervous energy. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I have to get home.”

  Hell no. That's not how this works. This woman has haunted my dreams for two years. And now she's standing in front of me—something I thought would never happen. She doesn't get to just walk away.

  My hands clamp down on her hips and I hold her in place. "Come back to my hotel with me." This moment is too important. This conversation is too important. We don’t need to have it in a piss-scented hallway with the blare of pop music and glasses clinking and strangers buzzing all around us. We need privacy.

  There’s just enough light in the narrow hallway for me to see the dark shadow that covers her features at my invitation. She looks away. “That’s a line I’ve heard from you before.”

  And all of a sudden, it occurs to me that I have no idea how her world has changed since that night in Vegas. She could be living a completely different life now. Or not. Something like dread builds in my gut.

  "Fuck—you went back to him…" The words taste like bile on my tongue. “Please tell me you didn’t go back to that asshole.”

  Her gaze snaps up and her expression twists with repulsion. "Who? Josh? No! No, I haven't seen or heard from Josh since he stood me up.”

  Those words shouldn’t make me feel as much relief as they do. But that relief is quickly followed by rage. What a coward! He didn't even have the balls or the decency to come back and give her an explanation for why he left her.

  Knowing that he treated her like crap just creates more urgency inside of me. I want to take care of her. I want to hold her and find a way to make everything better. I want it so bad it makes me forget I’m broken myself. "So what's the problem? Come to my hotel." I say it a little too loudly.

  A group of giggly 20-somethings slink by and Daisy grows self-conscious. Color rushes to her cheeks and her long, long eyelashes flutter.

  A world of frustration sits on her shoulders. "I know I gave you a certain impression the night we met. I didn’t put up much of a challenge before I left the bar with you. But I'm not that kind of girl. I don't normally just fall into bed with men I don't know."

  "But you know me."

  "Uh, no I don't."

  "Daisy, I told you things about me that night. Things nobody else knows."

  “You don't know me," she insists, folding her arms over her chest. "Case in point, my name isn't Daisy."

  A playful feeling creeps up my chest. “So, what is it?" I smirk, stepping closer and planting a hand on the wall above her head to lean over her.

  She pauses, uncertainty on her face as she blinks up at me.

  I wait.

  "It's Sophia," she says hesitantly and shifts her weight from one leg to the next. Did her pants just squeak at me?

  When she says that a little smile comes to my mouth. Sophia, the daycare lady...

  She sucks in a long breath that causes her shoulders to lift up to her ears. "And you're Archie."

  Wow! Word travels at the speed of light in small towns like this, huh? "I'm Archie," I confirm.

  "Fuck..." she mumbles under her breath. Her eyes drop and she shakes her head.

  I dip my face to hers. "Hey, hey, hey...What's that all about?"

  "I need to go," she says simply.

  My grip stays on her slim waist as urgency mounts in my veins. "You say you don’t know me. Well, get to know me. Let's get out
of here. Go grab some dinner. Or go for a walk. Or something."

  "I can't just leave here with you. Imagine what people would say.”

  Hmm…Seems she still has that problem of giving a fuck what other people think of her. We’re gonna have to fix that.

  A nosy blonde hustles by, eyes on us as she passes. Sophia’s self-consciousness increases. "Look, I already have a reputation around here for being a train wreck. I'm not going to give the local gossip mill more fodder by strutting out of here with the new-in-town guy, okay?" Before I can take another shot at making my case, she ducks around me and hurries away.

  A part of me tells me to follow her, to make her listen to me. Because she's not just some chick I banged that one time in a hotel room in Sin City. That woman has no idea the role she’s played in my life. She has no idea that her effect on me stretched far beyond that night in Vegas.

  I should make her listen to me.

  Instead, I hold back. I let her leave. Because Copper Heights is a small town. No more than 5000 residents. Tracking her down shouldn't be that hard to do. She is the daycare lady, after all.

  She probably just needs some time to process it all. As far as she's concerned, we were never supposed to see each other again. Yet, here I am, standing on her turf.

  Still, my blood runs cold when I see who's sitting at the table she approaches. Leo’s got his arm around his wife’s shoulder as he nuzzles her cheek. Meanwhile, Charlie’s wife is trying to wiggle her way into his lap.

  No fucking way!

  My mind is scrambling to process it. What kind of fucking coincidence is this?

  I watch as Sophia speaks to her friends. She grimaces and rubs her hand in discreet circles on her belly—fake stomach ache, a classic—before opening her purse and trying to slip some money onto the table. Charlie stops her and shoos the money away. Then, Nova and Reese hug her in turn before she makes a mad dash for the exit.

  Right before she steps out the door, she throws one last look in my direction. My neck tingles. My cock jerks.

  This little neck of the woods just got a whole lot more interesting.

  Chapter Five

  Sophia

  Las Vegas

  Two years ago, 7:37 P.M.

  “You’re so beautiful.” His eyes are locked on my face as he gently tucks the loose strands of my disintegrating chignon behind my ear.

  The tender sweep of his hot, rough finger pads across my cheekbone makes me shiver. His touch is perfect. “Really?” I try to hold his gaze but I feel like it’ll consume me so my eyes tumble to his mouth.

  He licks his lips when he nods. “Really…Your skin is like velvet. And your lips are the perfect shade of pink.” His finger pad outlines the shape of my mouth.

  Fire spreads across my cheeks. There’s so much sincerity and desire in his words. I’m not a particularly insecure person but nothing will knock a girl’s confidence down a few pegs like getting stood up at the altar.

  Am I not beautiful enough? Is that why the guy I’ve loved since I was 13 made a last minute detour instead of showing up at our wedding?

  Yet here’s this stranger, touching me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever seen. His caress is reaching past the surface of my skin, sinking into my soul.

  We’re standing toe-to-toe in the middle of his tiny 12th floor hotel room with nothing but the neon lights from the bustling street outside pouring in to illuminate the room. My heartbeat mimicks the frantic energy of the Strip. My blood whizzes loudly through my ears.

  My dress is in a pile on the floor while his suit jacket is draped tidily over the back of a chair. When we arrived here a few minutes ago, I kicked off my white satin heels by the door next to his neatly-arranged loafers. Now, that I’ve lost four inches, I can truly absorb his height.

  He’s tall. Maybe six feet five. And now that he’s towering over me, his shoulders seem even broader. So very masculine.

  “You have such beautiful eyes, Daisy.”

  And he has such beautiful everything. Every part of him is spectacular. It’s overwhelming.

  My eyes dart to the side of his face. "You have...very attractive ears," I blurt out like a moron.

  He laughs throatily. The rich sound permeates the air and dissipates some of the nervous tension I feel. “My ears?” He grazes the lobes with his fingers. “That’s all I’ve got going for me, huh?”

  “I’m sorry,” I apologize as I bury my face in his chest. “I’m sorry. I kind of suck at flirting.”

  I was with Josh since the eighth grade. We’d gotten to that comfortable place in our relationship. That place where we weren’t really trying to impress each other anymore. So, I’m very much out of practice.

  “Plus, I've never had a one-night stand before and I'm not feeling particularly sexy tonight. I’m just...I'm really nervous."

  He pulls me closer and tilts my chin up. “Don’t apologize, sweetheart.” I’m close enough to feel his cock hardening and lengthening against my belly. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll know exactly how sexy you are. You won’t ever doubt it again.”

  My pussy clenches at the words like she’s trying to catch them and hold onto them.

  I want this so much. I want him so much.

  When he lowers his face to mine, I wrap my arms around his neck and inch up on my toes. My heart hammers with anticipation. But there’s a trifling, little voice at the back of my mind, telling me that this is wrong…I shift my face away at the last second.

  I stumble a half-step back. A single tear crawls down my face.

  He brushes it away. “Daisy, I really, really want you. I need to make that clear, just so you don’t doubt it…But we don’t have to do this. You have every right to change your mind.” His thumb brushes my jaw back and forth.

  I peek up at him. He looks like a completely different man now that we’re in his room. Just as handsome and tempting but the smug veneer he wore at the bar is gone. There’s so much kindness on his face. Only kindness.

  Lust builds in my blood. It travels down my limbs, making my body tingle and heat. Making the space between my thighs go slick.

  My hand runs down the front of his chest, riding the pounding rhythm of his heart. “I want you so bad, it’s killing me.”

  He takes my hand in his and slowly, he pulls my huge diamond engagement ring from my finger. A shuddering breath moves out of me as he flings the jewel to the floor.

  To me, it’s symbolic. With that one gesture, my status as a single woman solidifies in my mind.

  His gaze zones in on my mouth. I close my eyes and tilt my face up.

  I feel blunt fingertips tracing my hairline and tucking loose tresses away from my face before rough palms clamp down on my cheeks and slide the length of my neck. His lips come down on mine with a need that’s slow and savage. The force of it, enough to make my knees falter. I stumble backward until I collapse onto the bed, pulling him down with me.

  As our tongues loop and dance together, my hands embark on a frantic search for his skin, tearing at the buttons of his shirt.

  Meanwhile, he’s kissing my throat and chest. He unclasps my strapless bra and my breasts spring free. Suddenly, I’m aware of how tiny they are. They feel so inadequate. But he cups them and brushes his mouth across the tips. He circles one nipple with his thumb while pinching the other between his fingers.

  “God—every part of you is perfect, Daisy. Every part of you is so sweet.”

  Hovering above me, his fingers loop into the waistband of my lacy bridal garter belt. There’s no air in the room as he slowly pulls it down my thighs. He releases a sharp hiss as his eyes follow the sensual movement. I hold my breath and goosebumps crawl the length of my thighs.

  When all my underwear is flung halfway across the room, his hands are braced on my thighs. He looks over at me, as if waiting for one more act of confirmation, one further bit of assurance that this is exactly what I want.

  I’m sure about this. There’s not a doubt in my mind.
/>   I widen my stance, spreading my thighs further apart and I guide his hand to my pussy. He growls as I slide his fingers through my wetness, my heat. “I did this to you, Daisy.” There’s a note of awe in his voice as he rubs me back and forth. “You’re wet like this for me.”

  I confirm it with a whisper. “I am.”

  His jaw clenches and lust engulfs his irises like a dark inferno. Quickly, he dips his hand into his pocket and produces a condom from his wallet. Then, he drops his pants to the floor, revealing his long, powerful thighs. I lie there, breathless and willing, as I watch him stretch it over his broad tip and down the thick length of his erection.

  I lean up and greedily steal a kiss, sliding my mouth against his. His tongue pushes between my lips and I groan at the warm, velvety texture. He uses the distraction to his advantage, swiping the crown of his cock along my super sensitive clit. I buck, arching my hips for more of the fantastic feeling, crying out against his lips. And then, he changes the angle, breaching me in one powerful movement. I cry out some more.

  We fall into a rhythm. My ankles locked around his waist, he pounds into me. Each thrust is deep and confident and hits a package of nerves so sensitive it will probably be the cause of my untimely death.

  In my mind’s eye, I can already see the coroner’s report.

  NAME: Gallo, Sophia Anne

  CAUSE OF DEATH: Violent orgasm

  ADDITIONAL NOTES: She regrets nothing

  Yep. The sex is gonna kill me. I’ve accepted it. And I’m not complaining.

  At the bar, he warned me that he was good at this. He told me he’d give me the hardest orgasms of my life. I guess I sort of thought he was speaking in hyperbole.

  He wasn’t.

  My fingernails grate along his scalp. “So good…So so so good…Fuck, please…Go deeper…Harder. Please.” My begging grows more desperate and shameless as the sensations head toward their peak.