Series: Blue Collar Bachelors #4
Ben Riggs says he loves me. He says he hasn’t stopped thinking about me since he broke my heart and chased me out of town all those years ago…
I say liar, liar, pants on fire.
And boy, do those bright yellow, flame-resistant fireman pants look good on him. I’m aching to feel those big, rough hands clenching on my hips and to collect on the illicit promises burning in his dark blue eyes.
Self-control goes up in flames every time he flashes that arrogant smile. So I give in—because a woman has needs. (Am I right, ladies?) He can have my body but my heart is off-limits. I’ve worked hard over the past few years to prove to myself that I can be successful without him in my life.
But Ben says he won’t stop until he wins me back—mind, body and heart. He says I’d better stop trying to resist him. He may be a fireman but I’m the one fighting like hell against the inferno of lust and nostalgia closing in on us.
And it’s a fight I can’t afford to lose…
Hot Boy is a steamy, laugh-out-loud second chance, firefighter romance set in small town Illinois. It is book 4 in the Blue Collar Bachelors series.
He tenderly pushes my bangs from my face and stares deeply into my eyes. “Yes, sweetheart?” His breath fans lightly over my face. I hear harps in the background and angel feathers float down from the sky…
“This is the cheesiest moment of my life,” I snort.
He falls back onto his haunches and glares down at me in the dim room. “Angie, I’m trying to make this romantic.”
“I’m not your girlfriend. I don’t need romantic. I need hard and deep.”
He hisses and that simple sound tells me that my words have stung him. “Angela…”
“I wish you’d stop treating me like some fragile, delicate flower. Maybe I was once upon a time but now I’m not. Because you broke me…So fuck me like you mean it.”
A tense moment passes between us as I struggle to read his expression.
Propped up on his powerful forearms, he hovers above me, pinning me to the mattress with his icy glare. “So, you want me to fuck you, huh?”
I lift a hand and trace the sinewy ridges of his forearm. “Yes–Fuck. Me.” I grind out the words through a clenched jaw, shamelessly conveying my need.
After a long moment of hesitation, something inside of him seems to break. His eyes harden. All emotion slips away. The calloused palm of his left hand rides a path from the curve of my ass to the bend of my knee. His fingers tighten roughly and the light burn of it spreads deliciously across my skin. “You’re sure that’s what you want?” His voice is dangerously raspy and low.
I feel my reaction in the space between my thighs. “Yes.”
With a hard yank, he locks my left leg around his hip. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?”
“Yes.” I’m asking you to turn off everything that you think you feel and give me an orgasm that will make me forget that I still love you.