The environmental chick? Yeah, she’s hot.
I’d love to bend her over the hood of her stupid little electric car and smack that ass.
But the project comes first.
I don’t have time for dating, especially tree-huggers. I have to get this build completed on time.
But a kiss never hurt anyone... right?
She just better not be playing me to get info on my boss. Or shut down this project.
Because she’ll find out that I can give as good as I get.
That I have creative ways to punish her.
Get her begging for more…
This book is part of an amazing series of books about sexy blue-collar guys who don't mind getting a little dirty. ;) They are stand-alones and do not need to be read in order, but are all super sexy and delicious. From Alexis Alvarez (me!), Lee Savino, Renee Rose, Alta Hensley, Tara Crescent, Ava Sinclair, Aubrey Cara, Jane Henry.
Jesus, this guy is ripped! In his mid-thirties, I’d guess, his tanned skin is muscled like a fitness model, with a six-pack, strong biceps and triceps, narrow hips, and broad shoulders. His blue jeans ride low on his hips, and those boots… I do have a thing for guys in boots and worn jeans.
He tosses his shirt onto the pile of wood and strides toward me and my bestie, adjusting his hard hat.
“Talia. Incoming.”
“I can see that,” I hiss back, adjusting my skirt, wishing my heels weren’t so high. If I had sneakers on, I’d already be banging on that trailer.
“Ladies.” His voice is low and rich, but not welcoming. “This is a construction site. Private property. I need you to leave.”
I stick out my hand. “Hi. I’m Talia Carlsson and this is my colleague, Lem Hayes. We’re both volunteers from the—”
He doesn’t take my hand. “I don’t care where you’re from; you need to exit the premises. You’re not authorized, and you don’t have hard hats and boots. Let’s go.”
He gestures to the fence and gate. “I assumed the Employees Only sign might keep random people out. And the lock.” He narrows his eyes.
I cough. “It was left open.”
The man smiles, but it seems sort of predatory. “I suppose if I watched the security footage, I’d see exactly how you got in.”
“Maybe there’s no need to do that.” Lem pulls at my sleeve. “We can leave right now.”
“Not until we speak to Danton Carter.” I cross my arms.
The man stills. “What do you want with Danton Carter?”
“We’re from Earth First Environmentals.” I reach into my case and pull out a card. “My contact info.”
He takes the card and slides it into his front pocket without reading it, an easy move that makes my stomach flip, as I look at his lean hips. “Let me guess.” His voice is flat. “You’re with the group that keeps pestering us.”
“If you give us a chance to talk to him, I would appreciate it.” I make eye contact to show my sincerity. His eyes are a gorgeous cerulean blue. Holy mother of everything, who has eyes like that? And those lashes?
“Ladies, we need to walk.” His hand hovers just above my shoulder. “If you are injured on this site, it’s my ass.”
I try not to think about how much I’d like his ass, and how nice it looks in those jeans. I feel the warmth from his hand, and even though he doesn’t touch me, a little shiver of arousal sparks in my core.
“We’re not going near the work zone. We just wanted to find Danton.” I look back. “Or someone who knows where he is. Can you tell me where to find him?”
“The dangers are not limited to being hit in the head with an I-beam. You could trip over your own feet, fall and break your neck, and then sue.” He blows out a breath.
“Does that happen super often?” Lem’s voice is innocent.
“When people wear shoes like that, you better damn well believe it,” he says, a note of disgust in his tone, pointing at my heels.
“Ooh, no, these shoes are very comfortable,” I disagree, glancing down. “I walk quite well in them.”
Then I trip over an air molecule and fall right into the man.
Strong chest. Abs of steel. Arms that encircle me with strength. And his scent – not sweaty, like you’d assume, but sort of clean. Like soap, faint aftershave. Then a hint of deodorant and musk.
It’s over fast, then I’m back on my feet, breathing a little hard.
“Exactly,” he says, condescension dripping from his voice, “what I was talking about.” He rolls his eyes at me and Lem, but mostly at me. “Are you alright?” It’s like those last words were pulled from him.
“Yes.” I take a breath. “I only did that”—I sniff—“to make you feel good about yourself, like you get things right sometimes. It was intentional.” I stick up my chin and cross my arms. “You’re welcome.” I uncross my arms and adjust my hair, and his eyes follow the movement.
He scowls at me, hands on his hips, and slowly a smile works its way to his lips. “Is that so.”
“It’s exactly so.” My mouth twitches. “Because now that you’re softened up, you’re going to take us to see Danton Carter. Who’s one elusive… guy.” Sonofabitch, is what I wanted to say, but probably it’s not the best idea to insult a man’s boss in front of him.
“If he’s elusive to you, Ms.”—he pulls the card from his pocket and glances at it—“Carlsson, it’s for a reason. Have you considered that?”
“What’s your name again?”
He quirks a brow. “Again? Don’t recall I told it to you, yet.”
“You didn’t. That was my way of asking.”
“Kind of a roundabout way, don’t you think?”
“So what is it?”
He smiles at me. “You can call me Dane. Dane… Troy.”
“And this”—he gestures at the fence through which we recently came—“is called the exit. And this”—he raises his hand in a little Miss America wave—“is goodbye.”
“But wait.”
“Nice chatting, ladies.” He fixes us with a steely stare, and I gulp, stepping back through the opening with Lem. He clicks the lock shut and crosses his arms over that impressive chest. “You two have a fantastic day.”
When we don’t make a move to walk away, he raises one brow. “I’d sure hate to have to call security, which I will do in half a heartbeat if I see either of you two around here again in those.” He waves a hand at my heels, then turns to go.
“So I can come back if I wear my combat boots?” I call, and he snorts, turns back as if he can’t resist one more look.
“Please,” I implore. “It’s important. We have a miniscule window of opportunity here, and we only need a few minutes of his time. I’ve tried all the more traditional means—”
“You mean legitimate—”
“He’s not responding to emails, phone calls, texts, tweets.”
“If he’s not responding, it means the answer to whatever you want is probably already a no. Thank him for saving you some time,” he says drily. “Bye.”
Alexis Alvarez writes romances - some are light-hearted contemporary romances; others delve into the exotic world of domination and submission.
Her female heroines are strong-willed women who are never push-overs, and who can hold their own in society and the workplace, but who are intrigued with the idea of kink and submission in the bedroom. Alexis writes with skill and poetry, creating worlds that are both dark and erotic and, at times, humorous and light.
Alexis is a writer, photographer, gourmet cook, former engineer, and mom. She likes other things besides BDSM fiction, and some of them include snorkeling, lemon bars, thunderstorms, and laughing so hard with her sisters and brother that her stomach hurts.
Her female heroines are strong-willed women who are never push-overs, and who can hold their own in society and the workplace, but who are intrigued with the idea of kink and submission in the bedroom. Alexis writes with skill and poetry, creating worlds that are both dark and erotic and, at times, humorous and light.
Alexis is a writer, photographer, gourmet cook, former engineer, and mom. She likes other things besides BDSM fiction, and some of them include snorkeling, lemon bars, thunderstorms, and laughing so hard with her sisters and brother that her stomach hurts.
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