The Playboy Bachelor Read online

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2017 Lynn Burke

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-162-5

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Stephanie Balistreri

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For Jennifer and her inspirational HOT GUY pic of the day.

  THE PLAYBOY BACHELOR

  Lynn Burke

  Copyright © 2017

  Wren

  The great thing about condos under construction across the street? Countless muscled, sweaty men to fuel the imagination. The noise didn’t bother me, but the fact the condos would eventually rise up higher than my second-floor apartment and cut off my view of the Merrimac River did.

  But the absolute best part? Not the huge silver truck with Harper’s Construction painted on the side … the driver. Jeans, new boots, crisp button down—Mr. Harper himself, yummy money playboy. At least, that last part is what his social media portrayed. Never more than one pic per woman, countless blondes hanging all over him.

  That didn’t keep me from checking him out. Every. Day.

  I pulled into my parking spot after a long nightshift at the pharmacy downtown, my mind focused on the classes I had in a few hours. In one month, seven years of schooling would be a part of my past and I’d finally be a pharmacist, making the pay that would one day afford me a condo like Mr. Harper built. Needed to pay off a shitload of loans first, though.

  I climbed from my car and did a quick perusal across the street. Blake Harper in all his 6’2” glory stood a stone’s throw away. Casual, mussed light brown hair, blond highlights glinting in the rising sun. Full lips with a perfect bow. Crystal blue eyes…

  Focused on me.

  My breath caught, tingles racing clear to my toes. Maybe fifty yards away, and his gaze caressed me like an erotic slide of fingers beneath my panties.

  His slow assured smile snapped me back to reality.

  Cocky jerk, so not my type. And I definitely wasn’t his with my plain Jane looks.

  Dubbed the North Shore’s hottest bachelor, Blake had his pick of women and wasn’t shy about flashing those pics to brag. Forget petite Wren Shipman with her mousy brown hair and hazel-brown eyes hidden by glasses. He liked them tall and thin, blonde from a bottle and makeup enough to keep Sephora in business.

  Without returning his smile, I turned and trudged up the outside stairs to my apartment, a small one bedroom on the second floor of an old Victorian. The scent of fresh coffee rolled over me as I opened the door, perking me up, and same as every morning, I thanked the gods that some human thought up a timer for brewing.

  Two sugars and a splash of cream, and I sat at my small table beside the window, heels propped up. With a perfect view of the Merrimac and toiling men below, I sipped and sighed.

  The racket of saws and nail guns filtered through the glass, but I didn’t mind. My attention was glued to Mr. Playboy and his foreman, a slightly shorter, dark-haired hottie I enjoyed watching when the big cheese wasn’t around.

  Mr. Harper held a set of rolled blueprints under one arm as the two men walked around, pointing at this or that, chatting with the carpenters. After their morning tour of the site, the two men headed into the trailer office beneath my window. I had to lean forward to keep them in sight until the door shut behind them.

  “Coming Soon” the big red sign beside the office at the construction site’s entrance read, “Harper’s Point, luxury condos.” Private parking, docks for those with boats, and a view of the river stolen from me, the website promised. Well, Harper’s Construction didn’t give a shit about the last part, but no one ever cared what happened to those who came before the new, money-making buildings sprouted up.

  I sat back and sipped again, gaze lifting to the lazy river on its way out to the Atlantic. One day, I’d be out of debt. One day, I would no longer be white trash. Sure, I’d made it out of the government housing my crack addict mom raised me in, but the stink of my childhood that no amount of fabric softener conquered, still clung to my nostrils.

  Like the river, slow and steady, I’d worked my way up the food chain. Daily, I thanked every imaginary god that I’d been blessed with a measure of intelligence from my father—whoever the hell he was. Some sperm donor to a crack whore in need of a fix.

  I swallowed down the last of my coffee and hit the shower, ready for classes to be over so I could crash for a few hours of sleep. Third shift sucked, but I reminded myself every day it was only for a short time.

  One day. I lathered up my hair, eyes shut and dreaming. One day, I’ll be debt free, find a loyal man and have 2.5 kids.

  Hell. I’d even have that damn picket fence.

  Blake

  Fucking late April, and I caught a cold. Prime building time and my head felt like exploding. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t sleep. Midnight found me walking into a damn pharmacy needing the nighttime-sniffling-take-the-headache-away-so-you-can-sleep type medicine.

  I stood in the cold and flu aisle, staring. Dozens of brands lined the shelves in purple, red, and green boxes.

  “Fuck.” My stuffy murmur sounded loud in my ears. I grabbed a bunch of boxes and headed back to the pharmacy counter. “’Scuse me?”

  A tiny little thing, head bent, honey-brown wavy hair hiding her face, counted out pills on a tray. “Be right with you.”

  She poured the pills into an amber bottle, twisted on a childproof cap, and slapped a label around it. “How can I help you?” she asked, starting toward me. Her head lifted, eyes widening behind the nerdy glasses perched on her petite nose.

  She didn’t have the hot librarian thing going on, but something about her woke my body and I actually smiled.

  “Oh.” She cleared her throat as pink tinted her cheeks. Glancing down at the boxes I’d dumped on the counter, she said, “Got a cold?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Fever?”

  “Nah. Just stuffed up and can’t sleep.”

  She pushed through a waist-high swinging door and motioned me to follow her back the way I’d come. A quick scan of the shelves and she handed me a box. “That'll clear you up and help you sleep.”

  “Ah, PM. Should have figured that one out,” I said.

  She smiled up at me. Not a stitch of makeup. Full, but pale lips and porcelain skin most women would kill for—the kind I enjoyed marking with my teeth.

  I suddenly had a desire to slip off her glasses, bite those lips, and wrap my hands around the smooth skin of her throat. My cock stirred, despite my feeling like shit. Instead, I took the box from her hand, our fingertips brushing, shooting a zing up my arm. I narrowed my gaze in concentration on her face as her large hazel eyes widened, mouth parted on her breathed, “Oh.”

  “I’ve seen you before.”

  She nodded, her cheeks flushed pink. “You own Harper’s Construction.”

  My slow smile grew. “Yes.”

  “I live across from Harper’s Point, or what will be, that is.”

  Ah, yes. The young woman who’d snagged my attention a few days earlier. I’d been watching for her ever since, but hadn’t caught a second glimpse. “Blake Harper.” I held out my hand.

  She peered at my outstretched offering a second before accepting. A full blast of energy shot up my arm and straight
down to my cock.

  “Wren Shipman.”

  “Wren? As in the bird?”

  The pink in her cheeks deepened. “Yes.”

  Pretty, pretty bird. God, did I want to ruffle her feathers.

  Wren

  Although my heart pounded in my ears and my knees weakened at his firm hand wrapped around mine, I put on my I’m-not-interested-in-being-one-of-your-whores look. Cool and clinical. Or, so I hoped.

  Removing my hand from his, I pointed toward the front of the store. “Jenny will ring you up, Mr. Harper. I hope you’re feeling better soon and get some rest.” Without waiting for a reply, I hightailed it back behind the pharmacy counter.

  Beth, the third shift pharmacist, relaxed in the small room she mixed compounds in. I stepped into the nook and closed the door within an inch of latching, leaving just enough of a crack for me to watch Playboy Bachelor head to the storefront.

  “What are you doing?” Beth asked, coming up behind me.

  “Salivating over the hottest man ever.”

  She pushed the door open a bit wider, and I crouched down enough she could see over my head.

  Blake flustered Jenny if her red face and gaping mouth gave any indication. I understood the feeling. His mussed hair and hint of stubble lining his jaw… I needed to fan my face. The man looked like he’d just crawled out of bed after satisfying a woman. A flash of jealousy made me snort.

  Get over yourself and enjoy the view. My gaze roamed across his broad shoulders to his round backside encased in black running pants.

  “God, he’s got an ass,” Beth murmured above me.

  “Yeah.” Round and tight, perfect for wrapping my legs around. The thought sent flickers of heat kissing along my thighs, but hundreds of women had without a doubt done that very thing while sinking their nails into his back.

  No, thank you.

  “I’d do him for free.” Beth sighed as Blake glanced back our way before walking out the exit.

  “Along with every other hot guy to waltz in here late at night,” I said, pushing open the door we hid behind.

  “So many men, so little time.” Her laughter brought a smile to my face. “Doubling up on occasion would help me get through my to-do list.”

  A puff of laughter huffed from me as I went back to the delivery order I’d been filling when Blake’s ‘Scuse me’ woke me from daydreaming about him. I’d nearly swallowed my tongue when I looked up and found him peering down at me.

  Another wave of heat dampened my panties. Those dreamy crystal blue bedroom eyes and luscious lips…

  Hot damn. I shook my head.

  “Ever have a threesome?” Beth asked, tearing me from my thoughts again.

  “Nope. Have you?”

  “Once, my sophomore year in college.” Beth sighed again. “Best damn night of my life.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Two men, two cocks, their full attention plastered on me … oh yeah.”

  The thought of Blake Harper alone brought about fantasies that rocked my world, but throwing another man into the mix? My cheeks heated as the memory of his foreman’s face flashed across my mind. Couldn’t. Even. Imagine.

  “Now a man like that, you can tell by the way he walks he’s confident and dominant in bed.”

  Beth’s words flitted through my ears, bringing to attention the fact he’d probably done more women than all of Hollywood’s stars combined.

  “You can have him,” I said, grabbing a bottle of anti-depressants off the shelf.

  No more dreams. Back to the old grind.

  ****

  I pulled into my parking spot after a long night of counting pills, yawning, and thinking about Blake Harper. Ever since I’d first seen him on the job site, I’d taken to devouring paranormal romance novels about erotic vampires and their conquests. More often than not, I dwelled on ideas of sinking my teeth into his tanned skin.

  There was no sign of his truck across the street, which was just as well. I didn’t need any fodder for my erotic dreams. In every single one, we would rip off each other’s clothes, and he would take me against the nearest wall, rough and fast, grunting with each scrape of my teeth and nails.

  The one boyfriend I’d had in college didn’t like when I turned all feral-like in bed. More often than not, he’d shied away with an ‘Ow’ on his lips. I always felt like I had to rein in my passion, like I wasn’t able to fully be myself or explore where my sexual side wanted to go.

  From the naughty stories on my e-reader, I knew some men enjoyed roughness and being marked up in the heat of a good hard fuck, but how to find someone like that escaped me.

  “Hi, I’m Wren,” I mumbled, heading into the bathroom to get ready for class, “and I like to bite.” Yeah, that would work like a charm.

  Maybe after graduation, I would join a few dating sites, put myself out there and see if fate truly existed. I pulled my wet hair up into a ponytail and went back to the kitchen for more coffee.

  Sure would be nice to share life with someone. I’d considered a cat or dog, but never got one because of my work and school schedule. The poor baby would be ignored more often than not. Best to wait another month, after I graduated. I prayed to whatever gods roamed Mount Olympus that first shift pharmacy jobs existed, that nighttime would once again mean sleep time.

  Still no Blake Harper, I noticed while climbing back into my car. Damn.

  I started off down the street, and a big silver truck rounded the bend. Giddiness lit in my stomach and I smiled. We approached each other, him slowing and me not accelerating as fast as I usually would have.

  The eye contact constricted my lungs, but his slow smile and wave made me wish I’d worn a panty liner. I fluttered my fingers as we passed, gazes locking. I even glanced in my rearview mirror.

  Damn, the man was beyond fine.

  I flicked on the radio and grabbed my coffee from the console.

  Not my type, I reminded myself for the hundredth time while heading along the river.

  Not. My. Type.

  Blake

  Rolled blueprints under my arm, I walked across the uneven ground, the sound of saws and hammers like music to my ears. I’d grown up on construction sites with my father, but had taken over the family business five years earlier when a massive heart attack forced Dad to retire and take it easy. My parents had moved to Florida, and my younger, unattached sister decided to tag along. She’d never liked New England weather anyway.

  Me? I adored the chillier mornings that clung to Massachusetts even though the calendar claimed spring had arrived the month before. Breathing in the scents of the river and sawdust, I grinned.

  The early morning meeting I’d had sucked ass and my head still felt stuffed with wool, but seeing Wren somehow made the day seem brighter.

  I hailed Reid, the job foreman, and my best friend, with a wave.

  “’Sup, Harper?” Reid asked, hand outstretched for the extra black coffee I’d brought for him. “Thought you had a meeting with dickwad this morning?”

  “I did,” I replied, handing over his cup.

  He quirked a brow. “What the fuck you grinning for, then?”

  The little birdie who’d made my morning—and my early morning jerk off with thoughts of sliding those glasses off her face and rubbing my thumb over her lips before claiming her mouth. Taking her against the nearest surface, hard and fast until her cum dripped off my balls.

  I adjusted my stiffening cock and cleared my throat.

  “Who is she?” Reid asked, his dark eyes lighting with a smirk.

  “Girl next door.” I pointed with a thumb over my shoulder. “She works at the pharmacy downtown.”

  “Brown-haired little thing with glasses?”

  We headed over to where a handful of my crew readied to lift a wall into place. “Yep.”

  “She’s not your usual.”

  “Nope.”

  “Gonna fuck her anyway?”

  He asked as though it was simply my choice—which it usually was�
��but Wren didn’t seem the type to spread her legs for just anyone. The look she’d given me at the pharmacy made that fact pretty clear. “Sure as hell want to.”

  Reid tipped his coffee toward me. “Give me a call if you want any help.”

  I grinned. “Don’t I always?”

  ****

  I started showing up at the job site earlier than usual. Working nightshift meant she would head home with the sun. Sure enough, seven-fifteen rolled around, and the little birdie pulled into the old Victorian’s small parking lot. Two hours later, she would be off again.

  When the fuck did she sleep, I wondered, gaze glued to the jeans hugging her tiny ass while adjusting myself.

  “Fuck, man, you’ve got it bad.”

  I glanced over at Reid as Wren’s car disappeared around the corner. “No shit.” I stalked toward the office, Reid on my heels. “Sick and tired of these damn blue balls, too.”

  “Why not just pursue and conquer, get the shit done and be on your merry way?”

  I shrugged, glancing over at her apartment. “She’s different.”

  “No shit,” Reid used my line. “Short, brown hair, glasses, no style to speak of. The fuck’s wrong with you?”

  “Damned if I know.”

  Reid pulled up short. “Gonna be more than your usual one-night stand?”

  “I’ve imagined having her dozens of ways, and I want them all.”

  “Well, fuck me sideways.”

  I shot him a smirk. “She will eventually. While sucking my cock.”

  Reid grinned. “Now that’s what I like to hear.”

  She would take some persuasion, more than mere flattery and the promise of a good time. Wren seemed the forever kind of girl, the picket fence and sparkling diamond type. And damn, did the thought of the chase make me hard as hell.