Get in, get down…and get filthy with these sexy, hardworking, blue-collar heroes who don’t mind when things get a little dirty at work or at play.
This collection of 22 brand new stories from USA Today and International Best-Selling authors is full of scorching hot romance tales that will be sure to leave you breathless for more. These men work hard and play even harder.
From cops to mechanics, miners to brewmasters, they aren’t afraid to go all in. At the end of the day, when they find the woman who completes them, they learn love and life can be as messy as their day jobs…and they wouldn’t have it any other way.
Of course, I noticed Mr. Shirtless. With a bod like his, who wouldn’t? But his hot-factor didn’t matter. What did? My asshat ex and the need to make him jealous. So, I strolled up to the panty-melting stranger as though I knew him and laid one on him, hoping said asshat would see I’d moved on just fine without him. Only, he never saw me kissing another man.
I spotted her—honey-blonde hair gleaming in the sun as she came my way. I’d flirt. Smile. Maybe get her number. I sure the hell didn’t expect her to toss her arms around my neck, mashing her body against mine, and kiss the ever-loving shit out of me. Then, she stopped. Stepped back. Blushed. Whispered “Sorry” and blended into the crowd.
I never got her name that day. Or her number. However, fate had other plans and Destiny happened…again.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid…”
My breathless mutterings were meant for no one but me. Because seriously, I was stupid. Look up the word in the dictionary and you’d see a big ol’ picture of my dumb face. I’d just kissed a stranger and ran. A ‘kiss and run’ if you will. Not only was I stupid, but I might also be insane. Like, total zonkers!
Why did I do what I did?
Okay. The why was simple. Or, at least, I thought it was at the time. I wanted to make my ex jealous. Show the douche-canoe I’d moved on just fine without his no good ass. Let him know he’d been easy to forget. Prove I was so over him, it wasn’t even funny.
You’re probably thinking the ex? Let me back up a bit.
When a group of Oktoberfester’s shifted, most of them watching the hip-wiggle/ass-jiggle Linds was doing, someone started catcalling. This had me looking in the direction of the whistles, and that’s when I became aware of Mr. Shirtless. With the chiseled cheekbones of a Greek God, he stood a few feet away in low-slung denim—glistening in the sun.
Hello! With a rock-hard bod like his, who wouldn’t notice?
I’m pretty sure he hadn’t been the whistler, but I was certain he had been watching Lindy. Then his gaze slid to me as I took him in. Honestly, the man’s abs alone should be bronzed. It was like I’d stepped into one of those hot guy calendar shoots, his more than a six-pack rippling.
And did I mention glistening? I think I did, but it’s worth mentioning again.
That man’s midsection with the V-cut was enough to bring a grown woman to her knees in adoration. But just as I was about to stop myself from gawping at all those large, well-defined muscles flexing as the tall, dark-haired hottie wiped sweat from his bare chest, someone else redirected my attention.
Of all the places the asshat could be, there he was, mixed in with a group to Mr. Shirtless’s left! He shouldn’t have mattered. I shouldn’t have allowed the sight of him to burrow under my skin, but there was no helping it. Jenner had his arm curled around the shoulders of that woman as they strolled along a line of vendors—she smiling up at him all happy while he winked down at her.
Heat, and not from the sun, prickled along the back of my neck.
Seeing them out together—him more attentive to her than he’d ever been with me—pissed me the hell off. Thus, I made a rash decision and did something completely nuts. I strolled up to Mr. Shirtless like I knew him and laid one on him.
Or maybe he laid one on me.
Either way, we kissed. Hard. With tongue. And he smelled good. Clean sweat and something a bit caramel-spiced. And the way my stranger pulled me into him—alpha male possessive—God help me. Though, the real ‘holy wow’ moment came when I realized the man had developed an impressive erection while thrusting his tongue against mine, and he wasn’t afraid to use it.
Truth here. Stranger or not, when he pressed himself against me—hard and commanding—lightning struck my core.
Let’s just say, lip-locking with Mr. Shirtless had been, well… kind of mind-blowing. And after, when he looked into my eyes—his the color of chocolate swirled with honey gold—I think I lost my ability to breathe.
Then, Bam! Reality hit me.
Not only had I made a complete and total fool of myself, but my spur-of-the-moment decision hadn’t worked. Jenner and the skank had strolled on by—engrossed in each other. He never noticed me nor my brilliant public display of kissing the lips off another man.
Slowing to more of a power walk than a run, I glanced around. “Shit!” I’d been so hell-bent to just go, I’d gone in the complete opposite direction of where I’d left Lindy.
Body jittery with adrenaline, I turned around and started on my way back to her.
“Hey, babe. There you are.” Lindy strolled up, handed me a strip of chicken teriyaki on a stick, and frowned. “Where did you go? I lost you for a little while.”
“Jenner,” I said, disgusted. “He’s here.”
“Is that why you’re all flushed? Did the buttmunch say something to you?”
“No. I kind of strolled up to some random hot guy and kissed him to make the asshole jealous, but he didn’t even notice.”
Lindy’s eyes went wide. “Say what?”
With a nod, I spilled. Jenner with the woman. How they looked together. Mr. Shirtless. The PDA. The entire crazy tale.
When I was done, my bestie grabbed my shirt sleeve. “Show me the guy.”
“No way.” I shook my head. “I made a complete fool of myself and added to it by running away, Linds. I can’t take you to see him. I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”
“Come on. We’ll just stroll but keep our distance, and you can point him out.”
I groaned. “What if he sees me?”
“We’ll be sneaky.” She tugged at me. “Let’s go.”
“All right. This way.”
Being careful not to be noticed, I led Linds over toward Pops Brats, only I didn’t see Mr. Shirtless.
“He’s not around,” I said.
“Damn it.” Lindy sounded disappointed.
And me? Well, I couldn’t be sure if I was relieved my sexy stranger was no longer there or despondent I’d never see him again.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
London Saint James has lived in many places, but never felt “at home” until she met the real-life man of her dreams and settled down in the beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. London lives with her husband and their fat cat who thinks he owns them.
As an award-winning, international bestselling author, London is living her childhood dream. She knew all the scribbling she did, that big imagination of hers, and all those clamoring characters running around in her head would pay off someday.