Page 60 of Blue Collar Hotties

Her elbow digs into my ribs. “Lincoln.That’s not funny.”

My eyes burn as I glare up at the stars, and it’s probably because I haven’t blinked for the last three minutes. My stomach’s lurching, and my chest is raw. I can’t do it. I can’t leave her behind, not for anything.

“What are you saying, Jenny?”

She grips my wrist tight, squeezing with those slender fingers. Some of them are rough, callused with needle pricks from her sewing.

“I was thinking… maybe I could go with you.”

Uh.

What?

I turn my head, like I might hear her better. As if I could hearanythingover the blood pounding in my ears.

“Say that again,” I rasp.

“I could go with you. I’ve been working on my own designs, making sewing patterns to sell online, and I can do that from anywhere—”

I don’t even realize I’m crushing her until she lets out a squeak.

“Sorry! Sorry. Shit, do you mean that?” My hands slip under her sweater, roaming over the bare skin of her stomach, hungry and possessive. Can’t help myself. “Do you mean it, Jenny? You want to see the world with me?”

When she nods, her hair tickles my nose. “Yes. Um. If you’ll have me.”

If I’ll have her?Fuck.

The button on her jeans pops open easily. The zipper crunches as it drags down.

“You going to let me in here, sweetheart?” My words are hot against the back of her neck, my breath stirring her hair. Jenny shivers, clutching at my arm as I stroke a single fingertip over the bared strip of her panties. “I’ve been dying for a touch. For a taste. God, Jenny, I need—need to feel you on my cock. You’re coming with me, and you’remine.”

I’ve got no business talking to her like this, but I’ve lost my mind. The instincts are finally winning, taking over my body and words and brain.

“Y-yes.” Jenny shifts, her boots scraping against the roof, and I help her work her jeans and panties down, baring her heated skin to the night air.

“Ah, shit.” I can’t stop touching her. Stroking and squeezing her thighs. Every inch of her is perfect, and she’s coming away with me. That means she loves me too, because little Jenny wouldn’t leave this apartment for anything less. “Do you love me, sweetheart? Say it. I want to hear it.”

Her breath catches, but her words are strong. “Yes. I love you.”

“You’re going to love my cock, too,” I promise, tugging my own zipper down. Not to pull myself out yet, but to relieve some fucking pressure, because there are already going to be bite marks from my zipper all the way down my shaft, I’m pressing against it so hard. “It’s all yours, Jenny, and I’m going to fuck you so deep, you’ll feel me in there for days.”

Maybe not the most romantic proclamation, but I can’t think straight. Can’t stopgrimacingeither, baring my teeth behind her head, because I want this girl so fucking much.

I love her. God, I love her.

“Lean back first.” I may be an animal, but I’m not about to hurt her. No way. And Jenny melts back against my chest withso much trust, her legs parting easily for me, that my gut aches. “Let me touch you. Let me get you ready.”

When my fingertips meet her slick folds, I choke back a groan. Get her ready? She’s already wet and swollen; already rocking into my touch. I circle Jenny’s entrance, then rise up to rub around her clit.

“Oh.Oh.” She’s a wriggly little thing, gasping and bucking. “Lincoln! That feels—there.Right there.”

“So bossy,” I murmur, sliding my free hand under her sweater; delving under her bra to pinch at her nipple. Jenny sucks in a sharp breath, then lets out a feral growl.

It’s perfect.She’sperfect.

Pushing one finger inside her makes my temples throb. I pull it out and suck her taste off my knuckles, and working in a second makes every muscle in my body snap taut.

“Are you ready, Jenny?” A minute later, my fingers pump in and out of her easily, slick and shiny in the starlight. “You ready to take me?”

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