by Amber Bardan
“I told the receptionist I’m your mechanic, and here to take your car.” He moves closer to my desk.
I fly out of my seat, and get behind it. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Why not?” He advances.
“This is where I work.” My pulse seems to thicken my tongue. How’d he even find me here?
He takes another step, and my heart gives a pop. I dart around the desk, and make a dash for the hallway, and push open the door to the ladies room.
I shove the door closed, and reach for the lock. An opposing force pushes back. I throw my weight into the door, but it slides, my shoes slip on the tiles.
Then he’s in.
The sound of the lock flicking into the latch, echoes into my bones.
There’s no escaping him now.
Mike
I TURN TO HER.
We’re not pretending anymore. She knows exactly who I am. I saw it the moment she realized.
Her horror was a hook to my guts—nearly tore me apart.
“You shouldn’t be here.” She grabs the sides of her head. “You shouldn’t—”
“Why?” I go after her.
She backs against the wall. Fuck me. She’s the sexiest thing that ever lived. That tumbling hair, and those expressive eyes.
Her hands fall to her sides.
She makes a sound. A soft moan of heartache that’s worse than any torture any man could inflict on me. “It’s too dangerous.”
“He’s gone, Gabriella.” I close the space between us.
Her stepfather died five years ago.
My hand almost moves to the side of my head, but I stop it. The scar is buried in my hair, but the memory is always with me.
The scar from where they had to open my head to treat the blood clot that formed from where Jeramiah’s blow landed my temple.
“He almost killed you.” She squeezes herself up against the tiled wall. “Because of me.”
My mind flashes. Vivid and pulsing. Of taking this girl in her stepfather’s workroom. My belt wrapped around her throat. Not tight, just enough to get her off.
Exactly how she’d asked for it.
I reach her, bend and whisper. “I’m alive.”
Her chest heaves. Panic’s in her eyes. She’s not afraid of Jeramiah anymore.
She’s afraid of her. Of the terrible things she’s capable of.
Of how I can deliver all of those things.
There was a time she’d sneak out and cross the road to crawl in my window every single night. Nights when she spilled her secrets so sweetly that there was nothing she could reveal, nothing so dark, that I wouldn’t set myself on fire to bring life to them.
“I know who you are.” I grab a handful of her hair. I went so easy on her yesterday. Not today. “I remember what a fucking filthy girl you are.”
“I’m at work.” Her breath shudders.
“You used to like that.”
“I need this job.” Her chest shakes, but her gaze is hooked on mine, her chin rising.
“Do you?” My gaze narrows on her.
Someone would’ve told her that Jeramiah left everything to her. If she could just find the nerve to come home, it’d all be hers.
The old asshole must’ve had a conscience after all.
“I can’t…” She quivers.
I pull her head back sharply. Her neck exposes. “Why?”
“Because everyone knows…” she whispers.
I press myself up against her. She’s so soft, that my hardness gets harder. So sweet that my hunger gets sharper. So desperate that my need swells more violently.
I could break us both into pieces, and it wouldn’t be destructive enough to satisfy this pain.
I know what she means. Not that they knew about us. But that they knew what we were doing.
Dirty things.
It all came out into the open when I ended up in a coma.
“Then come home with me,” I breathe to her, and then, I can’t manage another breath.
I stare at her face. Scan her expression. Wait to know how she feels.
She’s like a sparrow in my hands, but this little girl could crush me with a word.
Her brow wrinkles, her confusion over how coming home would help playing out. But I know. “And what?”
I smile at her, then reach my free hand down and grasp the hem of her sensible work skirt. “And be shameless.”
Her lashes flare and I see the dream in her eye. The yearning to be herself. But…she won’t.
Yet.
I’ll just have to remind her what it can really be like. I yank up her skirt, and release a growl.
“No underwear….” I yank her hair harder, and cup her cunt. “You really are a little slut.”
Her breath gushes out at her favorite endearment.
She reaches for me, curling her fingers into my shirt.
I slam her against the wall and sink my tongue into her sweet mouth, and kiss her with every bit of need, every speck of yearning I’ve stored up—and drive my fingers into her cunt, capturing her scream.
Her heat soaks my fingers.
My horny dirty girl.
My control splitters. I yank open my fly and then, I’m lifting her up and driving home. After all these years, back where I’m meant to be.
She holds on to me, teeth sinking into my shoulder, clawing at my back. She’s a ferocious little animal.
I fuck her back the same way—like a wild creature. My cock driving into her soaked pussy. Making my way through her skin and delivering myself into her blood where she will never be rid of me again.
The sting of her teeth makes my balls squeeze, and my cock stiffens. She knows how to get to me too.
Her pussy starts to tighten. I grab her throat, squeezing only the sides of her neck, and fuck her into the wall.
My chests explodes in rushing adrenaline and blinding pleasure.
She comes, and I press my mouth over hers, sucking the cries I give her back into me. She twitches and jerks.
Her cunt squeezes and clenches, and absorbs the last of my control. I release her throat and bliss steals away my soul.
I come inside her, hard and deep.
We collapse. I brace myself with a hand on the wall and hold her with the other.
Her forehead rubs against mine slowly.
I’m as weak as a baby, and vulnerable as a lamb.
My girl…
5
Gabriella
I reapply lipstick at my desk.
“You ready for that talk?”
I glance up at Mr. Kane, and reach for the second drawer of my desk. “I sure am.”
He blinks at my confidence.
Unusual I know.
But I found something today I’ve been missing.
I found me.
The me I’d buried under a decade of shame. Lost under the weight of consequences for my actions.
Yes, it was my fault I’d wanted to be fucked in Jeramiah’s work room where Michael had been apprenticing.
All on me, that nothing had ever turned me on, the way doing that right under his strict, judgmental nose had.
But I’ve punished myself enough.
I follow Mr. Kane into his office and close the door behind me.
“Abigail—”
“Gabriella.” I smile, and face him on the other side of his desk. “Which you know well.”
He sits, almost missing his seat. “What is going on with you today?”
“Everything.” I smile wider, open up the file, and withdraw the paperwork. “I’d appreciated it if you could please sign for my overtime.”
His eyes narrow. “Leave it on my desk and I’ll look at it when I have time.”
I place a palm on the wood desk top and reach for his pen holder, plucking out the overpriced black one that is his preferred writing implement. “It’ll be better for everyone if you just do it now.”
I click the top and hold out the pen.
He glances at the pen
then me. “You should start collecting your things. You’re fired.”
“We’ll just say I quit.” I place the pen down in front of him, and then the forms. “Just like I’ll say nothing about this…”
I take the remaining paperwork from the folder and present it to him.
He takes the papers, then sinks back in his chair.
His jaw pulses and his eyes stretch so wide his sockets bulge.
Honestly, I’ve been practically wiping his backside all this time. Did he think I’d miss the embezzling?
His gaze snaps to mine. “This is extortion.”
“No, extortion would be if I asked you for something that wasn’t mine to begin with.”
I straighten.
His gaze flicks across mine and he makes a grunting sound, then collects the pen, and signs, jamming the pen into the paper at the end of his signature.
“Thank you.” I smile again, and collect the paperwork. I’ll be taking them to HR myself that’s for damn sure. “Good day, Mr. Kane.”
I nod, and leave his godforsaken office forever.
I PULL up to the curb, yanking on the parking break with a shaking hand. It’s like standing in the middle of a parted sea being here. My former home, or residence rather, on one side—and Michaels house, my sanctuary on the other.
I take a breath on top of a breath.
Yes, it’s like standing in the middle of a parted sea, and feeling like at any moment all that water, and all those waves are going to come crashing down.
And crush me.
I close my eyes, then open them. But one of these places, is just a house now.
Empty.
I withdraw the envelope from my hand bag and open it, then tip the key into my palm. It’s cold and smells like metal.
It’s been waiting hidden at the bottom of my wardrobe for three years. And I’m still just as shocked that Jeramiah left a sinner like me all his worldly possessions.
But then he’d shocked me before.
Like when he kept me around after Mom passed.
I’d been sure I was up for a round in the system.
I get out of the car and make my way to the pavement in front of the house, and rotate the key in my hand. Shit. My neglect shows. The paint peels from weatherboards like dead skin, and there’s a grey dereliction hanging over the place like a cloud.
I don’t need to go in.
I look up at the window that used to be mine. It’s nearly lost behind overgrown branches now. My chest tightens. I spent a lot of time kneeling on salt, praying for absolution at that window.
Not that any amount of praying seemed to convince Jeramiah I was good enough.
A smirk tweaks my mouth.
But then I never was.
I spent more time than I ever spent praying, climbing out that window, and down that tree, and sneaking across the road.
“I’ve been wondering when our neighbor would be coming home.” The rich rumbling voice shivers down my spine and lifts the hair at the back of my neck.
“This isn’t home.” I spin around and the sight of him—now that’s a worthy homecoming. My hands want to fist in his shirt, and my head to bury in his chest. “I’m selling.”
His lips pinch, and his hand runs over his beard. “Is that so?”
“Yeah.” I push hair out of my face. “I’m hoping they’ll tear it down and build two places.”
His hand falls from his face and I know he’s two seconds away from grabbing me. When he left my work today, it was with a warning that he wouldn’t be giving up. He’d be back, and back, and back for me until I gave in.
I just saved him the commute.
“But…” I finally give in to the pull, and place my hand on his chest. “I’ve always been partial to the place across the road.”
He grabs the top of my arms. His chest heaves under my palm. “Then you’re in fucking luck.”
I laugh. “I am.”
“You’d better have brought your stuff or you’ll be wearing these clothes for a while.” He hauls me closer, gaze eating me alive, before hauls me over his shoulder and carries me home.
EPILOGUE
Mike
One year later
My little slut is in trouble now for running away.
I slide off my belt.
Her squeal rings through the room. She backs into the curtains. I go after her. There’s nowhere she can go to escape me.
She’s mine now.
Committed for life and I’m going to get her and give her the reminder she needs.
She wraps the curtain around herself.
Her wet hair drips down her shoulders with rivulets of water I plan to lap up. I’ve already chased her out of the shower.
I pry the curtain from her grasp.
“No. No. No,” she whimpers. She finds it so embarrassing to be naked while I’m still dressed.
That’s why catching her from the bathroom like this is my favorite.
My blood storms with lust like wind in my ears, and all I can hear is mine, mine, mine.
I haul her away from the window by a handful of her dripping hair, and take my time looking at her gorgeous nudity. “You didn’t even bother to dry yourself did you?”
Her breath catches, but she doesn’t answer.
“You like being wet?” I tug her hair gently, arching her neck, bending her chest toward me.
Her nipples are puckered. Goosebumps all over her damp skin.
A growl escapes me and I spit.
She screams and jerks like she’s been hurt. My saliva joins the water traveling between her tits.
“Still like being wet?”
“No,” she moans.
The desperate sound of her voice ruins me. No. Little liar. It’s humiliating to be spat on.
“I bet you’re wet everywhere.” I lead her to the bed, and bend her forwards, taking special care not to knock her belly. She’s only just started to show, but my girls carrying precious cargo. Like her, I’ve protect and cherish it with my life.
I pull her arms behind her and wrap my belt around her wrists. There’s an extra hole in the leather for precisely this purpose.
Her plump ass is full of goosebumps too.
I run my hand over one side. Her skin must be especially sensitive puckered like this. She trembles, face pressed to the bedspread.
I give her a slap—hard. The sound is sharp as a whip and crackles.
She squeals. Her flesh flushes with a pink stain of my handshape.
“You need to be gagged, princess?”
She shakes her head, her eyes already prettily watering for me.
I drag her up onto the bed and roll her onto her back, not even bothering to remove my shoes.
I nudge her thighs apart. She resists, and for that, earns another slap.
This time she bites down on her lips and keeps in the sound.
Good girl.
She’ll be rewarded for that.
I touch her pussy. She’s soaked as I knew she’d be. I insert two fingers inside her, pushing hard.
Her hips rise. Sexy moans bleed from her mouth. My cock strains.
I find her sweet spot, and rock there.
From the way she’s already clenching, she’s going to gush. But, I want that privilege on my dick.
I unfasten my pants, then sink between her thighs.
Her exquisite body takes my weight so perfectly, even though I don’t grind myself into her the way I usually would.
She’s so supple that I could eat her and only her, for every meal, for the rest of my life and never starve.
I push my cock to her cunt. She twitches, but doesn’t whimper the way she wants. I thrust. She takes all of me, her gasps getting faster.
The hot, wet clench of her pussy grips me, and a shudder rolls through me. I’m the one almost helpless here.
I’m so damn deep.
She’s so damn wet.
I pull out then thrust back in. Her juices coat me all the way to my balls. Her la
shes dip, pleasure overtaking her expression. I growl, and give her another sharp thrust. The tension gathers in my middle. I move faster, fucking her hard enough to shake the bed. The frame rattles against the wall.
Her pussy clenches. She’s about to come. The horny little slut. I lean up between her spread thighs. Her shiny, flushed flesh stretches to capacity, sucking me in. Her arousal is a sopping mess over both me and her thighs. I thrust hard, and rub her jutting little nub.
She seizes. Her legs twitch and shake. Her swallowed moans sound like meows. The flood of her satisfaction covers my cock. I thrust harder. The pleasure sweeps me up in a vise.
Bliss ruptures me, spreading pleasure to my marrow. My come erupts out of me, and I grind deeper into her. Deep as I can. As though I could get her pregnant a second time. Her pussy continues to spasm, milking everything from me.
I give her it all. All I am. And all I ever had.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you too, princess.” I give her everything. Everything. Everything.
Hard work never looked so good. Calloused hands and hourly pay are as hot as any billionaire’s manicured digits in this collection of stories from four of the hottest, bestselling safe authors around. These blue collar dirty men are ready to hold your hand, then hold you down in these stand-alone stories dedicated to working men everywhere. Pure alpha possessiveness and happily ever afters will leave you wiggling in your chair and dreaming of your own working-class hero.
All stories out now!
Mechanic by Amber Bardan
Rough Neck by Dani Wyatt
Hard Hat by Frankie Love
Coal Miner by Jenika Snow
Now that’s all he can think about—being her very dirty Daddy
DOG WALKING WAS SUPPOSED to be Katie’s easy third job.
She had no idea when she answered the ad, that she’d be working for Clay “The Grinch” Colson—recently retired baseball superstar. He’s every bit as mean and intimidating as the scowl he’s famous for, except for one thing…he’s putty for his overgrown crazy Boxer Kiki.
