Page 61 of Blue Collar Hotties

Her head lolls against my shoulder, her fingers bloodless where she grips my thighs. “Y-yes. Yes. I’m ready.”

It’s a little awkward, sitting her up again. Yanking my zipper the rest of the way down and drawing out my cock, then helping Jenny up so her ass hovers over my lap, her jeans tangled around her shins.

“This is so ungraceful.”

I nip her shoulder, grinning. My cock throbs as I nudge her entrance.

“Oh.” Jenny sinks down on me with one long sigh, melting back against my chest like she’s climbing into a hot bath. She hooks her ankles over my legs, and then she’s draped over me, relaxed and shameless.

I snort, bracing her hips. “Comfortable, sweetheart?”

Jenny wriggles, taking my cock an inch deeper. “Socomfortable,” she purrs, like the cat who got the cream. I really like her smug.

I like her writhing, too, whimpering and breathless in my lap. I like her searing heat, the tight clasp of her pussy, the slick slide as I pump in and out. I clutch my shy roommate to my chest and fuck up into her from beneath, and it’s like I’m holding the whole world in my arms.

“Mine.” My teeth scrape her neck, then I suck a bruise beneath her ear. “Can’t take it back, Jenny. You’re mine.”

I’m a possessive asshole, but her nails dig ten sharp points into my thighs, and I know Jenny gets it too.

I’m obsessed. She’s obsessed.

And this is it for us. The rest of the world faded away the second we found each other.

Just in case, though, I make her come good and long on my cock, rubbing her clit as I stroke inside her, deep and steady and merciless. And feeling Jenny twitch around me, hearing her breathless gasps of my name, feeling her thighs spasm and her stomach muscles shake—that’s heaven.

My jacket scrapes against the rough brick behind me, and the wind chills my ears. My muscles are burning, and my back is damp against my clothes, and she feels so fucking good. Hot and wet and tight. I never want to stop.

But sparks crackle down my spine, and my balls draw up tight, and I can’t hold back. Can’t hold this off forever.

“Jenny.” I screw my eyes shut, wedge myself deep—and spill my whole goddamn soul inside her.

Jenny

Two years later

I weave my way through the bustling crowd, two paper plates clutched in my hands. Giant slices of hot pizza mock me as I go, the scent of warm, cheesy dough and oregano tickling my nose, but though I desperately want to, I don’t hunker down behind a stone wall and tear into them both like a wild dog.

Guess I’m too loyal for my own good.

The early evening sun is warm, the crowds noisy and colors bright. Gondolas float between stone streets, and shopkeepers chatter between their stalls.

My husband grins broadly when he glances up from his camera two minutes later, seeing me power-walk across a bridge back to his side.

“Hungry, sweetheart?”

I catch up to Lincoln and shove one of the plates at his chest. “Get that thing away from me. I nearly had an illicit affair with that pizza in an alley.”

Lincoln snorts, but he lets his camera hang from the strap around his neck, taking the paper plate from my hand. “I wouldn’t have blamed you, you know. And if I knew you wanted food, I’d have fetched some for us.”

Yeah, yeah, I know. Lincoln’s all about me being brave, facing down my anxiety demons, but since I’ve started showing, he’s suddenly determined to wait on me hand and foot. It’s sweet andall, and I’m sure I’ll milk it for all its worth once I’m further along and my feet hurt, but for now…

My independence was hard won. I’m enjoying every second of it.

I turn to face the water, tearing a bite off my pizza. Sweet, delicious heaven. Another gondola floats past, everyone on board wearing masks, and I watch with the kernel of a thought taking root in my brain.

“Did you get the shots you need of the festival?”

Lincoln grunts, chewing his own pizza.

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