Billionaire lumberjack, p.15
Billionaire Lumberjack, page 15
“Shit.”
I glance around the lake again. The long shadows continue to stretch out across the landscape, like fingers reaching out for something only they can see. And they are getting dangerously long. It makes for stunning photos, but we are out here without a flashlight or any other means of navigation.
“Plus, the temperature is going to start dropping like my fucking ax soon. We need to get inside before hypothermia or frostbite set in.”
I take one last long, lingering look at the beautiful sunset and snap my final picture as Beau pushes off the tree and approaches.
“Don't look so sad. We can always come back tomorrow night if you really want more photos, or I can take you to a couple other places that would probably be incredible.”
“Oh, that would be amazing. I want to get as much as I can. I haven't been this inspired by location in a really long time.”
He heaves out a long, heavy breath and scans the frozen lake. “Yeah. It is definitely inspiring.”
“Is that why you chose it?”
Beau turns back to me, his brow drawn low over his dark eyes. “Chose what? To bring you here?”
I shake my head. “No, chose here to build your cabin and as where you wanted to go to get away from whatever it was you wanted to get away from.”
His shoulders stiffen as he contemplates my question. I truly can't blame him for his refusal to open up to me or tell me more of his secrets, more about what brought him up here in the first place, about those scars, but I guess I had thought maybe last night changed something.
Maybe.
And maybe he'll never reveal anything. It might be just as well. It might hurt a tiny bit less when I have to leave if I don't let things between us get even more personal.
Who the fuck am I kidding?
They already are too personal. Too close. Too involved. Too complicated.
If he learns the truth about why I’m here, he'll be devastated. Even if I wasn’t leaving soon, all of this would come crumbling down faster than the gingerbread houses I always tried to build as a kid at Christmas.
Beau glances at the sky again and motions over his shoulder. “We need to go.” He holds out his hand to take mine, but my attention is drawn back to the way the sunlight strikes the side of his face. I want to snap a picture of it so badly. I want to remember him looking like this in this light. But he said no photos, and I can’t disrespect him by taking one just because I want to be able to look at it forever.
Instead, I turn and take a few more images of the last rays of the dying sun, but before I even know what's happening, I'm lifted from the ground and release a squeal. “What the hell, Beau?”
He throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing, letting me dangle with my face right near his perfect, hard ass while his strong arm tightens around my thighs, holding me in place. “I told you we had to go. You weren't moving. So, I'm moving you.”
I smack him on the ass with my free hand. “Knock it off! I was going to leave. I just wanted a couple more photos.”
Beau offers a snort and shakes his head.
“Let me down.”
“I don't think so.”
“You're going to carry me all the way back through the woods and across the property to the cabin like this?”
“Apparently so. You don't leave me much choice.”
I growl at him and his laughter only confirms how ridiculous it sounded. His muscular body easily moves through the snow around the frozen lake, making our way back toward where are we originally exited from the woods. I pull my head up and take one last look at the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen before he steps into the darkness of the tree cover.
The temperature drops fast and hard now that we're completely out of the sun, and a shiver runs through me despite the heat of Beau’s body radiating up through his shoulder under me.
He squeezes his arm wrapped around my legs. “You cold?”
“No.”
I refuse to admit he was right, that we probably should have left a half an hour ago to ensure we utilized the last lingering vestiges of the daylight.
He snorts again and smacks my ass hard enough to make me yelp and almost drop my camera. “Maybe you should listen to me.”
Annoyance burns through me, and I scoff and smack him again on the ass, so hard my palm actually stings this time.
Dammit.
I shake it out and glare even though he can’t see it. “I don't appreciate you telling me what to do, Beau.”
“Yeah, I kind of gathered that, Brooke.”
“Grrrr!” I growl again, the only way I can express my frustration since there’s no way I am getting out of his hold.
He just chuckles, shaking me gently. “You need to stop making that noise, darling, or you're going to have one very big problem when we walk into that cabin.”
“Oh, really?”
“Uh huh.”
Despite my annoyance at his Neanderthal behavior, only one response seems appropriate. “Well, you know I'm perfectly capable of handling big wood.”
Chapter Fifteen
BROOKE
Beau kicks the door to the cabin closed behind us, stalks over to the couch—apparently not caring that he’s tracking the snow from his boots all over his floor—and flips me off his shoulder and onto the leather.
I bounce lightly and let my jaw drop open incredulously. “I can't believe you just did that.”
The man has the audacity to appear confused, his brow furrowing. “Did what?”
He can’t seriously think I wouldn’t have an issue with that performance he just did out there.
Even without living with a woman around for a decade, surely Beau knows that type of behavior is going to lead to some sort of confrontation. Men don’t just throw women over their shoulders and march through the woods with them anymore—at least, not where I’m from.
I jump to my feet and set my camera down on the end table so it doesn’t accidentally get caught in the crossfire. “You just threw me over your shoulder like a caveman and dragged me back to your ‘cave.’”
Beau barks out a laugh and rubs a hand over his beard. “Well, doesn’t that create a lovely mental picture…”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I issue a little harrumph noise, but all it manages to do is make Beau fight a smile. “I don't like it, Beau, not one bit.”
He holds up his hands and retreats a step, but the slight curl of his lips tells me he still thinks this is funny. “Okay, okay. I get it.”
I press a finger into his chest. “I could have walked.”
“Yes, you could have but you didn't.”
“Why do men always have to act like they control everything and they're the ones with all the answers so women should just fall in line and do whatever they're told?”
He recoils slightly, and regret over saying it settles on my chest the moment the words are out of my mouth and I witness his reaction.
Beau has definitely been a little bit bossy and short-tempered, but this is his house and I'm not even really a guest. I'm an intruder, one he rescued from certain death. So, he has every right to want things done a certain way and to want his privacy in certain regards.
Now I'm just projecting my own issues on him, when really, he has been a relatively good host and didn’t mean anything negative by what he just did. He was being protective and playful—nothing more.
His gaze softens. “I'm sorry, Brooke. I didn't mean it like that. I was just trying to make sure we got back here before it got dark. You know when the most dangerous times of day are to be outside are?”
Of course not.
I have zero wilderness skills and almost died the last time I attempted to spend any time with Mother Nature. “I assume night because it gets so cold during the winter?”
“Dusk and nighttime. There are a lot of things that hunt once the sun goes down.”
“Hunt?” The word sends another chill through me even though the cabin is relatively warm despite the fire dying down while we were away. “Aren't all the bears hibernating?”
“Yes, and it is rare for one of them to leave their dens during this time, but when they do, it's usually because they're hungry. And you don't want to run into a hungry bear. But the bigger concern is cougars.”
“Cougars? I’m going to assume you mean mountain lions and not older women on the prowl.”
He grins before seriousness tightens his features. “They hunt at night, and they don't differentiate between a deer and human. If it has blood flowing through its veins and it's moving, they're going to go after it. I didn't have my gun with me”—he motions toward where it leans against the wall near the fire—“so, I didn't want to get stuck out by the lake.”
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put us in a dangerous situation.”
Seems to be the story of my fucking life.
“It's okay. You didn't know.”
Apparently, I suck at avoiding dangerous situations. I suck at protecting myself from all different kinds of predators.
But I was with Beau, and if anyone knows this land and the dangers of it, it’s him.
I prop my hands on my hips. “Still, you didn't have to throw me over your shoulder.”
“You didn't like the view back there?” The corner of his lips curls into a smile and any tension I created with my earlier comment melts away with it.
“It left a little to be desired.”
One of his dark eyebrows slowly rises. “Oh, really?”
I chuckle and shake my head. “No. One thing you definitely do not have to worry about is how good your ass looks in a pair of jeans. Like I said…cover of GQ and all that.”
He tenses again and his smile falters slightly, but he manages to hold it in place this time even though it now looks fake. Beau really doesn’t like compliments or accept them well, and here I thought I was the one with issues.
The man saved my life. More than once.
Burying my own pride, I bite out the words. “And…you were right.”
His brow furrows. “About what?”
“It did get really cold, and it was pretty damn dark out there.”
“Dark enough that you probably would have gotten lost without me?” He raises an eyebrow at me, waiting for confirmation of what he already knows to be true.
There isn’t any use denying it. When it comes to surviving up on the side of a damn mountain in the middle of winter, I don’t have a fucking clue.
“Yes, okay, fine. Are you happy now? Happy that I'm admitting that you were right?”
He fights a grin at my incredulous tone. “It really pisses you off, doesn't it? That I was right.”
I huff out a breath that flutters the hair on my forehead. “Yes.”
Here I go projecting my own shit onto him again, but at least I realize it now. And he deserves an explanation for why it rankled me so badly.
Locking my gaze with his, I unleash a simple truth that has been plaguing me for years and has only gotten worse in the recent past. “I feel like all my decisions have been wrong lately.”
BEAU
The seriousness of her confession zaps all lingering humor from me in an instant. This entire situation just seems to be getting more and more complicated, and I never intended to make it more difficult for her. All I wanted was to keep her safe.
“Shit, I'm sorry. I wasn't—”
She holds up a hand to stop me. “I know you weren't. Really. It's okay. It's my issue, not yours. And I didn’t mean I regret this”—she motions between us—“at all. I’m just…I don’t know…”
Tell me about it…
My own head has been such a jumble since she stumbled into my life. I don’t know seems about as apt a description for how I feel as any.
I reach out and drag her up against me. “I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to get you back here safe and sound in one piece, with all your fingers and toes intact and no more bouts of hypothermia.”
A genuine smile pulls at her lips, and she wraps her arms around my neck. “You know…that night after I woke up, you told me that you had to strip me out of my wet clothes. I vividly remember when I asked you if you were naked, too, and you kind of clammed up and just said ‘body heat.’”
“I remember that, too.”
All too vividly.
The first time I touched a woman in a decade or got mostly naked with one, it was purely to warm her up and save her life. That’s not something one forgets easily.
“So…” She watches me expectantly with humor dancing in her green eyes. “Are you going to tell me now?”
I drag her even closer—impossibly close—so that our chests press against each other hard enough that I can feel her heartbeat against mine even through our jackets. Yet, somehow it isn’t close enough.
“I stripped you down to just your underwear right here.”
Though then, she was helpless, and now, she’s anything but. This woman isn’t afraid of me, isn’t put off by my inability to engage with her like a normal human being all the time. She isn’t scared of what a man who has lived alone for so long, isolated from humanity, might be capable of. Instead, she looks at me with expectant eyes, warm with affection and need.
I grab the zipper of her jacket and slowly lower it, then push it off her arms and let it fall to the floor. “Then, I got down to mine and pulled you in my arms on that bear skin rug in front of the fire…”
My fingers play at the hem of her shirt, making her suck in sharp breath. I tug up the fabric gently, and she raises her arms to let me pull it off, exposing her black bra holding her absolutely perfect breasts.
“I wrapped a blanket around us…” I trail my finger from her collarbone down between that flawless valley of porcelain skin, sending a shudder through her. “And I held you…for hours, until your lips lost that blue tint and you stopped shaking so violently, until I thought you had reached the point where your life was no longer in danger.”
Though somehow, those hours seemed to last an entire lifetime. The longer I spent with her in my arms that day, the more the memories bombarded me—the good and the bad. The harder it became to push away the past and keep it, and my secrets, long buried.
She squeezes her eyes closed for a moment. “I remember it a little bit…” When she reopens them, true affection burns back at me. “I remember feeling warm and safe, like I could relax and stop running.”
“I don't want you to have to run, Brooke. I did it a long time ago. Look where it got me.”
“This place is beautiful, Beau. I can't believe how beautiful it is.”
“It definitely has its perks. But…” I trail off because there isn't any way to say it without telling her something I shouldn't. “Nevermind. I think we had discussed having some fun when we got back.”
I waggle my eyebrows playfully, hoping to distract her from the direction the conversation was heading in. She eyes me warily for a second, looking like she's about to redirect me exactly where I don't want to go, but instead, she pushes up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to my lips.
Her hands snake down between us and to cup my hard cock through my jeans. “I can definitely think of something fun I want to do.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask against her lips. “What's that?”
“You'll see…” The playfulness returns to her eyes and her words, and she sets to work pulling off my jacket and shirt. Her hands play at the waistband of my jeans, and I grab her wrist to stop her. She just grins me and pulls her hand from my grip to unbutton and unzip them, letting my aching cock spring free.
Fuck.
Brooke bends down to untie her boots and kicks them toward the front door, then backs up until she's directly in front of the fireplace, the bear skin rug under her feet. She motions for me to come over to her with a crooked finger.
Good God, she’s beautiful.
Honey-blond hair flowing around her shoulders, evergreen eyes flashing with mischief and lust, her breasts heaving in their lacy confines.
I can’t get to her fast enough and tug off my boots and jeans while she throws a few more logs on the fire to get it roaring again. Though, I doubt we’ll need its heat this time. An inferno already rages through my body. More than a desire for this woman: an inherent need that terrifies me more than any predator out there in the darkness.
Her eyes lock on me as I approach, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips.
Oh, fuck. She's serious.
I haven't had a woman's mouth around my cock in a decade. If I thought last night was embarrassing, this will be even worse. Just thinking about her wrapping her mouth around me makes my dick jump in anticipation.
She reaches out and takes my hand, dragging me the final step to the rug, and sinks to her knees. The fire builds beside us, the flames catching on the newly added logs and creating an orange-red glow that covers her face as she wraps her hand around the base of my cock and sucks my length into her mouth.
“Oh, good God.”
I dig my fingers into her thick hair and tangle them in the silky tresses. Her tongue glides along my flesh and flicks at the head, making my hips buck and driving me even deeper down her throat.
“Fuck.”
She moans her approval and swallows, the motion cocooning my cock even more in the heat and wetness of her mouth.
“Jesus, Brooke, I can't—”
Her hand around my length tightens and strokes me harder, in time with her sucking vise-like lips. Instinctively I push even deeper, driving my cock into her mouth over and over, fucking it with a reckless abandon while she moans around my flesh.
It only takes a second for me to lose complete control. “Fuck, Brooke.”
I come down her throat, my body jerking, my fingers twisting into her hair to hold me steady and keep me upright on legs that want to give out with the sheer power of my release.
Last night, I thought I had found Heaven on Earth for a few hours, but this was truly ethereal, like I was lifted from my body and left behind all the rage and pain that have consumed me for so damn long.
