The Woodsman (Lust in the Woods Book 1) Page 4

  “Does the invitation still stand?”

  I nodded.

  “Your face doesn’t look right still.”

  “It’s the false eyelashes and contouring. And you really shouldn’t tell a girl her face looks weird.”

  “I didn’t say weird.” His knuckles brushed my cheekbones and he stepped toward me, crowding me into the counter top. “I said it didn’t look right.” His body was pressed against mine, his heat emanating through his clothes and mine until it hit my skin, making me desperate to know what it felt like to touch him. “You don’t need all this shit. You’re perfect.”

  His voice was low, almost inaudible, as if he wasn’t event talking to me, more to himself.

  He leaned in and ran his nose along my jawline. His fingers still softly touched my face, but they moved down to my neck until both hands slowly wrapped around my throat. Oh, God, he was touching me and my skin was beginning to burn. My body warned me that if he kept touching me I might combust just from the pure heat rising inside me, starting at my panties and moving up to my breasts.

  “The things I’ve thought about doing to you, Katy. They are not good things.”

  “Tell me, please.”

  “Things I should not be thinking about. Things that are probably still illegal in some states.”

  Oh. My. God.

  I closed my eyes, trying to regain control of my breathing. My heartbeat and pulse seemed to be going haywire at the same time as Sam somehow pressed his body even closer to mine. My lips parted in surprise as I felt his mouth against mine. His tongue pushed in, a hint of aggression, but just a hint. It was as if he really believed he might scare me with the things he wanted to do to me.

  There was no way a man like him could give up control and let me lead. Obviously. His hands remained around my neck, simply resting there, another hint of something, something scary.

  Something fun.

  I moaned into his mouth, my hands rising to spear into his hair, wanting to feel the softness from the night before. The thought of there being something he could give me, something hot, wet, and desperate, so lecherous he didn’t dare tell me, whatever the hell it was he was holding just out of reach was driving me slightly insane.

  My noises spurred him on, and he slowly thrust his hips against me, a weak replica of what might be, what might come, what might scare me, and another hint of his size and strength. Whatever was hiding in his jeans was huge.

  He wrenched his mouth away from me suddenly and I whimpered in surprise.

  “Tell me to stop.”

  I shook my head in refusal.

  Was he crazy? Why the hell would I ever tell him to stop doing that?

  “Tell me, Katy, or I’ll end up doing something we’ll both regret.”

  I rolled my lips together, a sign of my resistance, and his eyes darkened. He pressed his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. His voice was gravelly and low.

  “Tell me to go home and I promise to show you tomorrow night.”

  I shuddered.

  A promise.

  A promise to show me.

  Why the hell was that such a turn on? What in God’s name did he have planned?

  “Promise?” I whispered.

  He nodded, his hands moving my neck until his thumbs stroked the underside of my jaw.

  “Yeah, baby, I’ll even pinky promise if you want.”

  “Go home, Sam.” The words were weak, but they’d been said. He immediately let go of my neck and stepped back.

  “I’ll see you at seven, Katy. And you better not be wearing any of that shit on your face.”

  He stomped out of the cabin and slammed my door for the second time in so many nights.

  Chapter Six

  Sam

  “Why are you here?”

  “Because you asked me to come over and have dinner.”

  “No, I mean, why are you here?” She waved her arms around. “Your cabin in the woods, this town. You don’t know anyone. You aren’t from here or even near here. So why here?”

  Lowering my fork, I sighed. “Does it really matter?”

  “It’s called making conversation. Are you on the run or something?”

  “God, no. Why would you think that? Do I give off an escaped convict kind of vibe? You mentioned that the other night.”

  “No, but you keep to yourself. The coffee shop is a fount of knowledge when it comes to local gossip. But there’s nothing about you. You don’t seem to have any interest in getting to know people.

  “I’m getting to know you.”

  “That’s different.”

  It was different and we both knew it. This wasn’t about making friends, getting to know the locals. Hell, if I had any self-control, which I didn’t when it came to Katy, I would be back in my cabin. Alone. Eating hotdogs out of a can.

  “All right. I was a faller up north and—”

  “A faller?”

  “Yeah, it’s basically a guy who hand-fells trees, instead of machine-felling.”

  “You mean you’re actually a lumberjack?”

  “That’s a really outdated term, but yeah. But you knew that already.”

  “No, I was making a joke. Because I’m funny, in case you haven’t noticed. You look like you’re a descendant of Paul Bunion with all the plaid and the beard and the ridiculously big muscles. That’s why I called you a lumberjack. I kind of thought you were a loner, woodsy guy that was maybe really into gaming or something and you just liked the whole lumbersexual thing.”

  “Oh.” I had nothing to say to that. I really wanted her to call me “lumbersexual” again, though. However ridiculous that word was.

  “Okay, well, now that I’ve processed that really important piece of information, do continue.”

  “Right. Logging’s a pretty hard and dangerous industry to work in and one of the guys in my team got badly injured. They sent some reporter out to cover the story and they wanted to interview me. This young guy, wearing skinny jeans and holding his damn laptop open in the middle of the woods, starting asking me what I thought about logging and spewing these ridiculous health and safety statistics. It was all stuff I knew, but to hear it in context, you know, it really drove the numbers home. After he left, I decided I needed to get out. I mean, I was risking losing a limb, or worse, death and for what?”

  “For money?”

  “Yeah, sure, initially it was for money, although it’s not like I was making millions. I got into it right when I left high school. I liked being outside, liked the challenge, and I was good at it. But now I’ve got money. I never spend it, I just work. I’m thirty-seven, life is short. I don’t want to be telling myself that after I wake up in the hospital with an arm missing or brain damage because I got taken out by a snapped cable.”

  “So you came here? To live the Walden experience?”

  “Why not? I love being outside and I wanted a place in the woods where I could figure out what the hell I was doing. I can’t stand being around a lot of people.” I didn’t need to tell her about Cecilia, about realizing I’d been taken by a woman whose main aspiration was owning a Coach bag and pushing a baby around in a stroller that cost as much as the damn bag. Gold-digging Cecilia was just part of why I was in the woods.

  Silence settled over the table and I was glad she’d stopped asking questions. After a few minutes of listening to our forks clink against the plates, I decided this silence probably wasn’t a good sign. Every time I’d been around Katy, she’d talked a mile a minute.

  “What are you doing in this place in the woods?” I hadn’t asked her any questions yet, and I couldn’t take the silence any longer.

  “I’m figuring out what the hell I’m doing.”

  “Fair enough.” I took a swig of beer. As curious as I was, it took a special kind of confidence to give me that kind of answer. As I was learning, Katy’s confidence was only part of what made her so damn attractive.

  We finished the rest of the meal in silence, and I declined seconds when
she offered. She rose and collected our plates to take to the sink. I didn’t know if there was a dessert planned, but I was having a hard time not touching her. Civilized, calm, controlled. That’s what I was going for tonight. Not an out-of-control horn dog that molested her on her couch and then her kitchen counter.

  My control was slipping. At warp speed.

  Unable to stop myself, I got up from the table and walked to the kitchen. Her long hair fell down her back, golden waves of honey I’d wanted to touch since the first time I saw her. Last night, when I ran my fingers through it, the hairspray and styling junk her friend had put in it had ruined it. Tonight though, I could see it was clean and all natural.

  She had to have heard me approach, but she didn’t move as I reached out, delving my spread fingers into the mass of blonde waves. Her scent hit me, as it had that night on her couch. Strawberries and summer sun. I stepped closer and ran my hand down her hair until I reached the end of it, just above her butt, on the small of her back. My pinky finger came to rest on the bare skin where her shirt met the waist of her skirt. I’d touched her before, but this was different. I stroked this little patch of skin that most people didn’t see, just above her ass.

  This was new.

  Perfect.

  It was peeking out just for me.

  A shiver ran through her as my fingers caressed the small area, that visible skin, a delicious cream temptation I couldn’t resist. Everything about Katy was temping. My hand slipped farther under her shirt and moved around her waist until it rested on her soft stomach. She shifted backward, almost imperceptibly, but I felt it. There was a subtle change in her stance as she curved her back, bringing her ass into contact with the hard bulge in my jeans.

  Flattening my hand on her stomach, I pulled her flush against me, resting my free hand on the counter next to her hip. My face nestled into her hair and I inhaled. Deeply. Her breath hitched and the soft noise escaping from her mouth made my hips flex forward involuntarily, grinding my arousal against her lower back. There was no way she couldn’t feel me.

  I thrust again, deliberately slow this time, wanting to give her a good idea of what she did to me. She braced herself against the counter edge, her hand resting next to mine, while her other lifted and wrapped around the back of my neck. The action forced her to arch her back even more, pushing her chest out. I was torn between not wanting to lose the feel of my hand against her stomach and wanting to know the weight and shape of her breasts, thrust out so deliciously for me. Stifling a groan as her fingers became tangled in my hair, I stilled my hips. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to come right here and now, and I wanted more from her. After all, I’d made her a promise.

  “Dinner’s over, Katy. You know what that means.”

  “You haven’t even kissed me, Sam.”

  God, the sound of my name on her tongue was too perfect, too sweet, the way she breathed it out. I needed to hear her moan it, call it, scream it out as I pounded into her.

  “You think I need to kiss you to make a claim? You think I need to kiss you to feel possessive? You felt my claim last night, right between those lush thighs. You feel it now. Or maybe you’re playing coy. Is that it? Maybe you’ve changed your mind and you don’t want me to show you what I was talking about last night.”

  She nodded her head and I chuckled. “Oh, sweetheart, I don’t think lying to me is a good idea right now. Not when I’m holding onto my control by a very thin thread. And it wouldn’t take much to snap it.”

  “And then what? What happens when you lose control?”

  “I take what I want. I’ll have my cock in you faster than you can blink. I’ll take what I’ve been wanting since the first time I saw you.”

  She closed her eyes and swayed, a flush creeping up her neck. “Oh, God, Sam, I need…”

  I loved her reactions to me. I loved that she was teasing me, in the most ridiculous way, by the unrepentant lust in her words, in the tone of her voice. Up until now there had been a small doubt in the back of my mind that this attraction was one-sided. Sure, I’d known she wanted me, but that didn’t even come close to describing my draw to her.

  But now, having her body writhing against mine, her nipples visibly erect through her shirt, her panting mouth and hooded eyes, I knew she felt it, too.

  “Tell me, Katy, tell me what you need.”

  “You.”

  It came as a whisper, but it was all I needed. Just that one word and I was done. Spinning her around, I grabbed her hand and rushed us to her bedroom. I grabbed her waist and shoved her down on the edge of the bed. Coming onto my knees on the floor in front of her, I hoisted up her skirt until it bunched at her waist. She got the picture as soon as I hooked my fingers into her panties and pulled them down.

  I yanked off her ballet flats and pulled the tiny bit of lace off her ankles. The small silver anklet she wore caught my eye and I stilled. The jewelry was so Katy—delicate, subtle, but free and unique. My rough fingers circled her anklebone and I leaned forward, brushing my lips against her soft skin, sliding my cheek up the length of her calf. Looking up, I marveled at the sight before me. Katy’s thighs spread wide enough for me to see her glistening folds, her chest moving fast as she tried to catch her breath, hooded eyes focused on my face, a hint of anticipation about what was to come in her expression.

  “Take off your shirt and bra,” I ordered. She seemed to like it when I told her what to do, and right now I wanted her to show me those breasts I still hadn’t had a chance to get my hands on. She lay back and pulled off her top. Then she unhooked her bra, rising again to rest on her elbows. Her hair fell around her naked shoulders like a golden cloak.

  “Better?” she taunted with a twinkle of mischief on her face.

  Staring up at her, on my knees in deference to the woman splayed out in front of me, wanting me, a shard of something cold slid through my chest. This woman could slay me, bring me to my knees even more so than she already had.

  “Beg me.” It came out as a growl, but I made no effort to hide the synthesis of arousal and unease that was threatening to overwhelm me.

  Without waiting a beat, she moaned in reply. “Please, Sam, please, I can’t wait any longer.”

  I rose up on my knees, pushing her thighs even wider apart. The scent of her arousal was maddening, and I fumbled with my belt while trying to retrieve a condom from my pocket. Keeping my eyes down, I sheathed my cock, unable to look at her, at what was waiting for me, or else I’d lose it before I had my cock covered. Finally, I looked up.

  She held up her skirt, giving me clear access as I lined myself up. Frantically, her feet pushed my jeans farther down my hips, and I squeezed the tip of my cock. Seeing her so desperate for me was driving me dangerously close to losing it.

  I knew I should slow down, knew I should check to see that she was really as ready as she seemed, but I was unable to control myself. With the mix of adrenaline and testosterone coursing through my veins, I aligned myself with her and thrust forward.

  Hard.

  Fast.

  I pulled back and thrust again.

  There wasn’t time to let her adjust to me, or even allow myself to luxuriate in how fantastic she felt. Pushing her to her back, I leaned forward and rested my arms on either side of her shoulders. Her arms wrapped around me as I pummeled forward, her wet heat squeezing me so hard it almost hurt.

  Pushing up onto my hands, I glanced at her face and part of my brain kicked into gear. Mid-thrust, I paused. Her brow furrowed. She licked her parted lips. The look of surprise alleviated the guilt that speared through me. I wanted to kiss her. I hadn’t even kissed her before I stuck my dick in her.

  This wasn’t how I wanted to treat her, like some easy, quick fuck I could get at any bar. She was turning me into a mess. One minute was the temptress siren, and the next my princess who needed wooing and a fragile touch.

  Sliding my hand up her neck, I gently pulled her up to meet me, watching her eyes carefully for any sign of trepidation, any
sign that this had gone too fast for her. Our mouths finally met, and I forced myself to slow down, at least with this kiss. We explored each other’s mouths, and she moaned when I grabbed her hair and used my grip to tilt her head to the side.

  I broke the kiss with a playful nip to her bottom lip.

  “I’m going to want more of those.” It was a statement of fact, more than anything, and I didn’t even realize I’d said it out loud until she smiled at me.

  “Same here.” She shifted her hips slightly and flexed her inner muscles, tightening around me.

  Groaning, I pushed my face into her neck and grabbed her hips, keeping her precariously balanced on the edge of the bed as I began to move again. Her thighs were pulled up high on my torso, and I moved my hips back and forth, her panting breath matching my own.

  I grabbed her hips and pulled her to match my thrusts, finding that angle I’d been looking for. It brought forth a moan, a deep animalistic sound from her.

  More.

  I needed to hear more of that.

  A few more rough drags across that sensitive bundle of nerves and she was melting in my grasp. I grunted as I found my own release, pumping in and out of her, trying to prolong it for both of us.

  Slumping forward, I rested my head against her shoulder.

  “That was... I’m…” Why did I feel like I should apologize?

  “Amazing. That was amazing,” she whispered into my ear.

  “Katy.” I didn’t know what to do now. But I knew what I wanted to do.

  I wanted to run.

  There was no way I was spending the night with her. I couldn’t.

  Not after that.

  The connection I felt was too damn overwhelming. Too real. Too good.

  “Let me get rid of this.” I reached between us and held on to the condom as I pulled out of her. Adjusting my jeans, I walked across the hall to the bathroom and cleaned up.

  By the time I was done, she’d put her clothes back together and was sitting on the bed, resting against the headboard. Standing by the side of the bed, I spoke.

  “Tomorrow after work, come see me. We’ll do something.” I leaned over, one knee on the bed, and tipped her chin up to meet my mouth. “Sweet dreams, Katy.”