Read Online Reckless (Blue Collar Boyfriends Book 1) by Jessi Gage - Free Book Online
Authors: Jessi Gage
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steam. Yeah, Deidre was a piece of work, but she was a good mom, and that was all that mattered to him these days.
Shit. He needed to apologize to her. And to Haley.
“Too late now,” he said as he glanced at his bedside clock. Seeing the rumpled bed reminded him of the comforter Haley had picked out. It was still in the kitchen. He went to get it, dropping the drill and extra wall anchors in the laundry room on the way.
Back in his room, the sight of the new blinds and dra pes made him smile despite his exhaustion. His little girl had picked out the perfect colors. The blue looked sharp against the off-white walls. The tight muscles in his neck began to unwind as he stared at the sheer fabric.
Beautiful blue eyes swam in his memory, eyes so deep and calm they reminded him of the ocean when he chartered with the guys and went way out, looking for marlin.
“Frigging ghosts,” he muttered, pulling the old, tan comforter from his bed and replacing it with the puffy dark gray one with navy blue patterns on it. “Kid’s got some imagination.” So did he, apparently, because he could picture those eyes with the kind of crystal clarity he’d never known from any dream.
He snorted. Just the bourbon talking. He’d worked off most of his buzz, but there must be some fumes lingering, making him remember things that didn’t make sense, like the scent of melon on his pillow this morning after he’d scared his dream girl away.
He looked down to find the comforter bag crushed in his fist. He made himself relax his grip and noticed the pillow covers still inside. They didn’t go on the pillows he slept on. They were decorative. He remembered that much from living with Deidre. Since he only had two pillows, not the sea of puffy, frilly things he used to have to toss on the floor before getting in bed, he shoved the bag, pillow covers and all, in the closet. He didn’t want a million pillows on his bed again, but maybe after he made up with Haley, she could help him pick out some new sheets to match the comforter. He wanted some in that soothing blue color, like the curtains.
Beyond exhausted, he hit the lights, stripped to his briefs, and fell into bed. The nightmare seemed to start immediately. He couldn’t catch a break. His subconscious should have moved on a long time ago, but he was still reliving that frigging accident.
So he’d witnessed a bad car accident. He hadn’t been involved in it or anything. He should be over it by now, definitely not letting meaningless dreams reduce him to unmanly hysterics.
He whimpered as the airbag punched his face and pain lanced his head. Fear crashed over him like breakers on the shore. He couldn’t catch a breath. Until the pain and terror surrendered to darts of pleasure.
Someone was touching him intimately . A warm body straddled his. A slender arm brushed his stomach as a determined hand worked its magic south of the equator. His whimpers of fear turned to moans of delight. Warm lips nipped along the side of his neck and jaw before seeking permission for more at the corner of his mouth.
Oh, fuck, yes. Now this was a dream.
He turned his head enough to capture those tentative lips. They instantly parted and he tasted his first kiss since his pathetic attempt to date a few months after the divorce. The one-night stand had left him feeling dirty. Responsible fathers didn’t have one-night stands. He hadn’t made a move on anyone since. And his poor dick hadn’t seen any action since, except occasionally by his own hand. Embarrassment warred with euphoria as climax zoomed up on him.
Fight it. Make it last. You don’t know when you’re going to feel this good again. Might be never.
The woman broke the kiss. Her breath fanned over his cheek as her breathing sped. She dug what she was doing to him. Damn, he’d imagined up the perfect woman, part innocent shy girl, part wildcat.
He ground his molars in an effort to prolong the fire of her touch, but when her tongue
Shit. He needed to apologize to her. And to Haley.
“Too late now,” he said as he glanced at his bedside clock. Seeing the rumpled bed reminded him of the comforter Haley had picked out. It was still in the kitchen. He went to get it, dropping the drill and extra wall anchors in the laundry room on the way.
Back in his room, the sight of the new blinds and dra pes made him smile despite his exhaustion. His little girl had picked out the perfect colors. The blue looked sharp against the off-white walls. The tight muscles in his neck began to unwind as he stared at the sheer fabric.
Beautiful blue eyes swam in his memory, eyes so deep and calm they reminded him of the ocean when he chartered with the guys and went way out, looking for marlin.
“Frigging ghosts,” he muttered, pulling the old, tan comforter from his bed and replacing it with the puffy dark gray one with navy blue patterns on it. “Kid’s got some imagination.” So did he, apparently, because he could picture those eyes with the kind of crystal clarity he’d never known from any dream.
He snorted. Just the bourbon talking. He’d worked off most of his buzz, but there must be some fumes lingering, making him remember things that didn’t make sense, like the scent of melon on his pillow this morning after he’d scared his dream girl away.
He looked down to find the comforter bag crushed in his fist. He made himself relax his grip and noticed the pillow covers still inside. They didn’t go on the pillows he slept on. They were decorative. He remembered that much from living with Deidre. Since he only had two pillows, not the sea of puffy, frilly things he used to have to toss on the floor before getting in bed, he shoved the bag, pillow covers and all, in the closet. He didn’t want a million pillows on his bed again, but maybe after he made up with Haley, she could help him pick out some new sheets to match the comforter. He wanted some in that soothing blue color, like the curtains.
Beyond exhausted, he hit the lights, stripped to his briefs, and fell into bed. The nightmare seemed to start immediately. He couldn’t catch a break. His subconscious should have moved on a long time ago, but he was still reliving that frigging accident.
So he’d witnessed a bad car accident. He hadn’t been involved in it or anything. He should be over it by now, definitely not letting meaningless dreams reduce him to unmanly hysterics.
He whimpered as the airbag punched his face and pain lanced his head. Fear crashed over him like breakers on the shore. He couldn’t catch a breath. Until the pain and terror surrendered to darts of pleasure.
Someone was touching him intimately . A warm body straddled his. A slender arm brushed his stomach as a determined hand worked its magic south of the equator. His whimpers of fear turned to moans of delight. Warm lips nipped along the side of his neck and jaw before seeking permission for more at the corner of his mouth.
Oh, fuck, yes. Now this was a dream.
He turned his head enough to capture those tentative lips. They instantly parted and he tasted his first kiss since his pathetic attempt to date a few months after the divorce. The one-night stand had left him feeling dirty. Responsible fathers didn’t have one-night stands. He hadn’t made a move on anyone since. And his poor dick hadn’t seen any action since, except occasionally by his own hand. Embarrassment warred with euphoria as climax zoomed up on him.
Fight it. Make it last. You don’t know when you’re going to feel this good again. Might be never.
The woman broke the kiss. Her breath fanned over his cheek as her breathing sped. She dug what she was doing to him. Damn, he’d imagined up the perfect woman, part innocent shy girl, part wildcat.
He ground his molars in an effort to prolong the fire of her touch, but when her tongue
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