Blue Collar Daddy, a short sexy story by Alexis Alvarez, will go live on Sept. 18th inside the anthology set Daddy’s Demands. You can read the first chapter and a sexy excerpt here…and be sure to pre-order, because this is an amazing price for so much sexy delicious daddy domination.
“Dammit, no!” I bang the steering wheel, as if that’s going to help. Even though I press down on the gas pedal, simultaneously turning the key, the car is mute. “Shit.”
I sit in the silence, punctuated only by the ticks and pings of the cooling engine, and the call of a mockingbird from one of the overgrown maple trees along the roadside. I glance around, but Route 7 is empty as far as I can see, and the only company I have this afternoon are the bees in the wildflowers along the gravelly grass strip that adjoins the blacktop.
I grab my phone and remember it’s not charged. I toss it back on the passenger seat, where it lands next to my laptop case. Too bad I didn’t make it to my rental house before the car crapped out. The town of Mecklenburg is small, but my new place, on the outskirts, is still at least a few miles away.
I get out of the car and prop up the hood, because this is supposed to be the universal sign for ‘help,’ but I wonder how long I’ll have to wait, and whether I should walk back to town—that’s definitely closer than the rental. While I’m debating this, headlights pull around the bend, and a shiny red truck approaches and slows.
I clench my keys between my fingers just in case, and flex my knees. I don’t expect trouble, but you never know. But when I catch a glimpse of his face, all of my fight instinct drains right out, because damn—this man is gorgeous. I’m not saying bad guys can’t be hot, but this man is phenomenal in a way that transcends regular cute-guy-ness, and I also get a vibe of safety from him. Maybe that makes no sense, but it’s how I feel.
He’s got dark brown hair and brown eyes that flash in the light. Defined cheekbones, a strong chin, sexy full lips. A short, close-shaven beard, hardly more than a few days’ growth—the perfect length, in my opinion. And the muscles on that arm, the built arm resting on the window? I might or might not be drooling.
“You need a hand?” His voice is deep and strong.
“My car died.” I clear my throat. “Probably the battery. Can you jump me?” Then I flush, my cheeks hot.
“Yeah, I can do that.” His voice is lower now, and he smirks. “Good to see your hood’s already popped for me. Makes it easier.”
“Uh-huh.” I swallow. Jesus, is he some kind of male fitness model? Those arms.
“But first I’ll have to check you out.”
“Make sure it’s not something else.” He opens his door and swings out, and my next thought is something like, Holy fucking hell. His thighs are powerful through his worn, faded jeans, and his lean hips, narrow waist, and broad shoulders are taking my libido places it hasn’t been in a long time.
“Oh, I see.” I relax my key hand.
“You don’t need to worry.” He glances at my fist. “I’m entirely honorable.” The grin that spreads across his face makes my pulse quicken.
“Good to know. Then I won’t need to attack you with my super-cougar-tiger ninja moves.” I wave my hand back and forth and his eyes dart to my hand, then up my body. I’m glad I wore my sexy scoop top and my best jeans today. The ones that make my ass look edible, according to my bestie back in Chicago.
He laughs. “I think your moves need some practice. I’m a black belt, though, so I can hook you up.” The mockingbird sings from the closest tree, and it mixes with the classic rock pouring from his open door.
Yes. Hook me up. I hope that the lust isn’t showing in my eyes, because that would be embarrassing. This guy is so freaking hot, he probably gets hit on everywhere he goes, from college girls and grandmas.
“May I?” He holds out his hand.
Because I’m holding the keys in my right hand, I transfer them to my left and take it. “I’m Kiera.”
“Zach.” He squeezes my fingers but our grip is awkward. It’s like he wasn’t expecting my hand, and then I realize he wasn’t. He was asking for my keys.
“Oh, you wanted these.” I hold up the keys with my other hand and they jangle, my guitar keychain clinking against the silver bells. “Found them.”
“Your hand is just fine, Kiera.” He doesn’t put any inflection on the words, but I feel a spark anyway, and I’m disappointed when he lets go to take the keys. “Not that I don’t trust you that the battery’s dead, but let me just take a look.”
“I might be a car expert, you know.” I cross my arms as he opens my door and moves the seat back to make room for his strong, tall frame. When he swings into the seat, I try not to let my jaw drop at the way his muscles move.
“You might.” He inserts the key and turns it, nods when nothing happens.
“I mean,” I continue, as he gets out and does something under the hood, following him and admiring his ass as he bends over, “maybe I’m one of those hidden boss show people. You know, the ones who pretend to be ordinary, and go undercover to see how their employees are doing on the job.”
He taps something and I hear a metallic ting. His voice is muffled as he replies, “So you’re my boss, is that what you’re implying?” He stands up and raises one eyebrow. “Last I checked, I owned my own business.”
“And last time I checked…” his voice goes lower, and his eyes seem to burn, “I’m the boss.”
“Are you.” His eyes are mesmerizing.
“That’s right,” he murmurs, stepping closer.
“At work?” I give him a teasing grin.
I can feel the warmth from his body and I’m dying to lean in further.
“Is that so?” I’m coming on strong and I can’t resist. I want you to be my boss. Toss me down in the back seat of your car and tell me what to do. Are my eyes telling him what I want? What I like?
“Mmm hmmm.” He doesn’t back away, and he looks right into my eyes.
“I like the way that sounds.” My face gets hot and I’m glad. Let him see.
“I’m gonna hook you up, Kiera.” He steps in one more inch.
I suck in a breath. “You are?”
He smiles. “Got jumper cables in the back.” He points over his shoulder, but doesn’t break eye contact. “Just what you asked for, remember?” His voice, a touch lower now, is husky, and I swear there’s a glint of pure predator in his tone.
“Yes.” I clear my throat and touch my cheek.
He gives me a small smile, then steps away to get his gear, telling me to get in the driver’s seat.
“Turn the key and press the gas when I say,” he calls out, and I hear his engine rev. “Now.”
Nothing happens, and I know I can’t be doing it wrong—this isn’t rocket science. We try again, then he ambles over, shaking his head. “Sorry, Kiera. Not just the battery. My guess is alternator, especially because the car just flat out died on you, but we’ll need to have it towed. Get it checked out.”
My stomach sinks. “Oh, no. Fuck.” I sigh. “Is there an Uber service in this town?”
He laughs. “Nope. You’re kidding, right?” But when he sees my face, he stops. “I’ll drive you back to the shop. I’ll call Herb from the garage and have him come pick up the car.”
When I hesitate, he quirks a brow. “Herb’s safe. You can trust him. And it’s my garage.”
“You own a garage in town?”
“The garage in town,” he corrects with a smile. “Small town. Just one of everything.”
“I can just leave the car here?” I gesture. “Until… Herb arrives?”
“Promise you nobody will touch it. Even with the keys right in the ignition.” He smiles.
“That’s good to know.” What’s he saying with those dark eyes?
“So get on in.” He points to the passenger seat.
“You’re not a crazy serial killer?” I feel the need to do a cursory safety check, even though my instincts tell me he’s just fine.
He laughs again. “Nope. If you wanna wait for Herbie, he can drive you back. But yeah, I’m safe.” He takes out his driver’s license and holds it out. “Go on. Take a picture and text it to your friends if you want.”
“I can’t. My phone’s dead.” But I still take the license and glance down, then point to my phone, lying on the passenger seat.
He leans over to see. “iPhone? Here. You can borrow my charger.” He gestures to his front seat, where a cord trails from the cigarette lighter charger. I hesitate, then figure, why the hell not? I plug my phone into the jack and snap a quick pic of his license.
“Thank you. My bestie will…” think you’re as fucking hot as I do, “get it soon.” He’s thirty-four, just like me. Six foot two. Two hundred five pounds. All of it lean muscles, as far as I can see. Zach Bradford is one fine man; that much is sure.
Then I do a double take. “Wait. Zach Bradford? I used to know a Zach Bradford in high school back in Chicago. St. Bernard’s. But you…” I hand over the license, tilting my head to examine him.
“Same guy. I’m Zach Bradford from St. Bernard’s.” He puts the license into his wallet, then steps back and puts his hands in his pockets. Does he look a little shy?
“No.” I stare. “I would have recognized… you.” I tilt my head. “Zach?”
I try to reconcile the memory of a thin boy who hung out with a different crowd than I did, with this man-God standing in front of me. He was one of the nice kids, but we didn’t interact much. What I remember about him was his intense gaze, and as I look as Zach now, I see that hasn’t changed.
“You have changed.” And though his stare is the same, my words are true. His body, his face—those are new. All man.
“Then you must be Kiera Collins?” He frowns. “You’re different, too.” He assesses me, and smiles. “I thought you looked familiar, but I didn’t put it together until just now. What are you doing here in Mecklenburg? Is… your family with you? Husband, or…?” He raises a brow, looks at my left hand, then back to my face.
“New job. And no, no family with me. I’m not married.” I flush. “My mom’s still in Chicago. How about you?”
“I’m single. Got divorced a few years ago and moved out here for a change of pace. No kids.” He crosses his arms and a frisson of excitement thrills through me. We’re asking each other something with our eyes, and answering at the same time. Moving through the steps, such as they are.
“Wow, small world.” But what I’m thinking is more that it’s not small, but magical. How else would this man be standing in front of me right now, looking at me like the only thing he wants to do in this world is burn me up with his gaze? He’s straight out of my fantasies.
“Sometimes.” He frowns, as if he didn’t like my glib reply. He tilts his head. “Other times, so vast that it’s incomprehensible.”
“What times are those?” I step closer. If he wants to cut through the bullshit, so do I. My heart quickens.
“Well.” He pauses. “When a person is lonely, I suppose. When you’re looking for something that you can’t find. And I’m not talking about keys.” He looks at my car, then back at me. “When you’re searching for the thing that makes you whole, and it’s not fucking anywhere.”
“Point taken.” I nod. “I suppose in that case, the world is infinite.” I hesitate. “And it’s then that you need to look in a new place. Or stop looking, and let the thing find you. Give life a chance. Let the tides roll and wash you up on the beach of your future.”
His eyes glitter. “What’s your beach, Kiera? What are you waiting for?”
I laugh. “I stopped waiting. That’s why I’m here, Zach. I got tired of my corporate job, so I found this place, in this town, figuring I needed something different. I’m changing my path. Getting away from it all. Thinking things over and getting some perspective. So here I am.” I can’t look away from his face.
“So you are.” I can hear the wonder in his voice. “Right here.”
He calls Herbie. I get into his truck, the smell of new leather and his cologne wash over me, and he plays music, not too loudly. We talk all the way to town, which isn’t a very long drive.
“So what have you been doing since we were in school together?” He looks over at me, then back to the road.
“College, IT degree, worked at a company in New York. A lot of travel. Then I got burned out. Broke up with my fiancé.” I think about my relationship with my ex—how we were so in tune in the bedroom, especially when it came to kink, but how I was still lonely. All the time. “Like I said before, I decided I needed to reset myself, so that’s why I’m here.” I pause, looking at his strong hands on the steering wheel. “You? You said… you’re divorced? What happened?”
“I married young and fast. She was great, but we just weren’t right for each other, I guess. We tried to get busy with friends and socializing to mask it, but eventually it wore through. Sometimes a person can be almost perfect, but it’s the almost that makes you pretty fucking lonely.”
I nod. “I hear you.”
As we look at each other, I feel something growing between us, fast and strong. It’s attraction, yes, but it’s something more, as well. How do you describe the feeling of meeting someone and knowing that things between you will be so fucking spectacular that it’s like it already happened? That’s something amazing and special. You have to grab that with both goddamn hands. You don’t find the rarest jewel and leave it in the mine.
I lean my head back and look over at him, moving my hair, touching my neck. And he smiles, glancing from me to the road; a small smile plays on his lips, like he knows what I’m thinking. Like he fucking loves it. And the rest of the drive is a million miles and a single flash at the same time.
THESE DADDIES DON’T ASK FOR OBEDIENCE.
THEY DEMAND IT.
Daddy’s Demands is a collection of decadently dirty daddy dom romances from some of the hottest authors in the genre. This deliciously naughty box set includes twenty-five brand-new, stand-alone novellas featuring steaming hot, irresistibly sexy adventures with the baddest daddies imaginable.
Featured authors: Madison Faye, Renee Rose, Loki Renard, Maggie Ryan, Zoe Blake, Alta Hensley, Lee Savino, J.L. Beck, Jane Henry, Isabella Laase, Kelly Dawson, Sara Fields, Kara Kelley, Measha Stone, Amelia Smarts, Mary Wehr, Maddie Taylor, Meredith O’Reilly, Morganna Williams, Katherine Deane, Alexis Alvarez, Shelly Douglas, Sassa Daniels, Marlee Wray, and Rory Reynolds
Your obedience will be demanded on September 18th.
Excerpt from my story, Blue Collar Daddy:
“I’m gonna sit down,” he tells me. “You’re going to lie across my lap, ass up, and ask your daddy to spank you good and hard. You’re gonna earn your fuck, baby, by accepting your punishment.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I whimper, my voice raw with desire. Fuck, I can’t wait to feel his hand on my ass. I want the sudden shock of pain, and the warmth that turns to pleasure. I want to hear the crack of skin on skin, and both of our breathing, labored, eager.
He sits down and slaps both hands onto his jean-clad thighs, legs a little spread, bulge evident between them. I lick my lips and saunter over. “You sure you don’t want my panties off, Daddy?” I run my hand down, and throw my head back in mock passion that’s not really all that fake. “I’m so wet for you. Wanna see? Taste?”
“Oh, baby girl, I’m going to have my mouth all over that pussy,” he promises, “and you’re going to get twice as wet. But for now, I want you over my legs, ready for your spanking.”
I climb up onto the bed and crawl over his lap, positioning myself so my belly is over his legs. I wiggle, feeling how hard he is. “Like this, Daddy?”
“Just like that, yeah.” He lays a hand across both buttocks and rubs. “Good girl. I like how you listen.”
“See, I can be very good when I try,” I offer, bumping my hips up into his palm. “I’m so, so good right now.”
“That you are,” he says, and chuckles. “Let’s see how well you listen when this ass starts to sting, hmmm?”
I suck in my breath, anticipating the first spank, but he strokes again, down my thighs. “Spread a little,” he orders.
I shift my thighs wide and moan when his fingers find me, stray under the fabric of my panties and delve into my core. “God, that feels good.”
“Jesus, you are wet.” His voice is full of amazement and gritty with need. “Fuck.”
“Please.” I shift my hips, trying to rub my clit against his fingers.
He notices. “Bad girl. You take what you’re given, is that clear? If I want you to wait, you wait.”
And then the spank comes, a hard, beautiful crack right across both cheeks.
I cry out, a mix of pain and delight, and he does it again. “You like that, baby girl? You like a little spanking, is that right?”
“Yes…” I moan. More, fuck, more. Yes.
He spanks again, alternates cheeks, and rubs in between.
“Your skin is so goddamn soft, Kiera. And you turn pink right away. I fucking love it.”
I hiss as he spanks harder. He grabs my hips and holds me in place for a second, both hands, before letting go with one, leaving the other as an anchor. “Don’t get shy on me now, baby girl. We’re just getting started, and I’m going to have you dancing over my lap before your pussy gets any more attention.”
“Ow…” I whisper, and then yelp it out when he lands a flurry of spanks all over the base of my thighs. “Ow!”
He laughs, but pauses to rub. “Stings, does it?” His hands are soothing and within seconds, the fierce burn turns to a sexy tingle
“Yeah…” I breathe. “A lot.” But I make no move to pull away. “It hurts.”
“But I think you need it to hurt,” he whispers, bending down and running his hands over my curves. “You like a little punishment with your pleasure, don’t you, baby girl? You don’t come hard unless you’re given a good work-up first.”
I can only moan in reply, but I push my hips up, wordless, asking with my body for what I need. What I crave.
He obliges, spanking harder now, and more deliberately, over and over until I do start to twist on his lap to get away from the sharp slaps. “Ouch, Daddy, ouch.”
“Oh, there we go,” he murmurs, not letting up for a second. “That’s it. Now that it stings, baby girl. This is when the spanking really starts. The rest was warmup. Play.”
Get the rest of this story and 24 others here!
thanks for reading!
XOXO from Alexis Alvarez