The Woodsman

by Blake North

  I had no warning at all. The climax washed over me, jerking my body with hard spasms. He kept fucking me, hard and fast right through the climax. My body felt too many sensations at once. My head thrashed back and forth as I struggled to reign in the myriad of feelings coursing through my body.

  I looked up to see determination on his face and knew he was working to bring me to a third climax. I couldn't. No way! My body couldn't possibly come again in such a short period of time.

  He pulled out of me, and I cried out at the loss. He bent down and flipped me over, yanked my hips into the air, and pushed into me again. The penetration was deeper than before, creating a whole new slew of sensations for my mind to comprehend. I could feel him becoming frantic. It was contagious. He pushed in, rotated his hips in a wide circle, and then pulled out.

  He repeated the motion, and I could hear a keening sound in the distance. My mind struggled to make sense of it. Then, I realized it was me. I was on the brink of another orgasm. I wanted it so badly, but it dangled out of reach. I could feel his dick growing, stretching me to the point of pleasurable pain, and I knew he was about to come. I wanted to come with him.

  I reached a finger between my legs and pressed against my clit as he pushed in. I pressed and rubbed, and the stirring of my climax started in my toes. I knew it was coming; I just needed him to go a little deeper and harder.

  I arched my back and pressed my ass against his hard thighs and rubbed my clit. The climax slammed into me at the same time he started to come. His short bursts into me felt too good to ever put into his words. It was explosive, and stars danced in front of my eyes.

  My body floated back down to earth from somewhere in the atmosphere where his fucking had sent me. I could feel the pillow beneath my head and the firm mattress below me. I lay there, my breathing and heart rate returning to normal. My body felt tingly all over and absolutely relaxed.

  Wait. Something wasn't right.

  I fought to clear the cobwebs in my head. I felt as if I was in dark, dark room, and I couldn't see anything. My eyes were closed. They refused to open. I strained and managed to open them enough to see my surroundings.

  I was in the cabin. Chase, the man who lived in the cabin, was sitting on the mattress beside me. One hand touching my head.

  He must have seen the confusion and alarm on my face.

  “You're in my cabin. My bed. You were in an accident yesterday.”

  I blinked, trying to make sense of everything. Had I really had sex with him or was that a dream? I filtered through the millions of bits of information that flooded my brain. No. There had been no sex. That had been a dream. One hell of a dream.

  “I don't feel so good,” I mumbled, my voice harsh.

  I reached a hand up to my throat. It felt raw.

  “Here,” he said, holding a glass of water. “I'm going to lift you up, and you can take a few slow drinks to help wet your mouth. I imagine it's awful dry after being asleep for so long.”

  I did as he instructed, feeling a little better as the cool water washed down my throat. I lay back down in the pillows and tried to rewind my brain. I was missing some big chunks of information.

  “How?” I mumbled. I didn't have the energy to ask full questions. My head hurt, and I didn't want to move any part of my body, including my mouth. I felt like hell.

  He shushed me and told me to close my eyes. I wanted answers, but I also felt exhausted. I needed to sleep. Except I was pretty sure he just told me I had been asleep for the last twenty-four hours.

  What the hell?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Chase

  I could see she was confused. That was to be expected after what she had been through. I imagined she was probably a little scared too. I was a complete stranger. We were out in the woods, alone, no one around for a good mile. It was a great plot for a horror film—ex-con and all.

  “What happened?” she said in a voice that was harsh from lack of water.

  I had told her twice already, but I knew she didn't remember. It was temporary amnesia, I suspected. I knew it would likely get better with some time.

  “You left here in the snowstorm. Your car slid off the road, and you hit a tree. You had your seatbelt on, but the airbag deployed. Your head is probably sore, and I imagine the rest of your body as well. The seatbelt left a nice bruise across your chest, and you have bruising around your face from the airbag deployment. You also show signs of a mild concussion. Other than that, you’re in good shape.”

  “Why didn't you call 9-1-1?” she asked.

  “My cell doesn't get reception up here. None of them do. Besides, I am, or I was, 9-1-1. I mean, I’m trained to be a paramedic,” I said, omitting the part where the training never got put to use because I had gone to prison instead of fulfilling my dream to become a paramedic. Minor details. No need to scare the woman. It wasn't like she could safely escape me.

  “What?” she asked.

  I exhaled a long breath. “The accident wasn't all that bad. Well, it was bad, but I could handle the injuries. A hospital would have just treated and released you to do just this—lay in bed.”

  She nodded gingerly.

  She seemed to be comprehending everything I was saying, which gave me great relief. I didn't think anything had been injured internally, but one never really knew.

  I took a deep breath. “And I didn't see the need to pull resources from the other accidents that were likely happening around town. No reason to put the first responders' lives at risk because people were out driving when they should have kept their asses put.”

  She frowned. I knew that was a low blow, but I couldn’t help myself. If she’d just listened to me in the first place, she wouldn’t have been in this position. Though I had to admit, she looked pretty damn good laying in my bed.

  “How?” she said, lifting an arm before wincing in pain.

  “How'd you get here?” I asked, having a feeling that's what she was trying to say.

  She nodded.

  “I carried you.”

  Her eyes opened wide.

  “I heard the crash. Sound carries pretty far in these parts,” I added when she looked skeptical. “I ran down the road and found your car rammed into a tree. I was able to open the back driver-side door and pull you out that way.”

  She closed her eyes. “The car?”

  I laughed. “I don't think that car is going anywhere. I didn't stick around to inspect it, but the front end was pretty smashed up. I will admit, as bad as it looked on the outside, I thought for sure you would’ve been in much worse shape. Either the car is built like shit, and smashes up easy, or you were going fast, and you’re lucky the passenger compartment held up so well.”

  She looked at me. “I don't know. I don't remember.”

  “It's okay. You may remember later, or you may never remember. All that matters is you’re okay. You've been in and out of it for about the last twenty-four hours,” I explained. Again.

  We were silent for a few minutes while she digested all the information through her slow-moving brain.

  “Thank you,” she croaked.

  I nodded. “No problem. Are you warm enough?”

  She took a few seconds before she answered. “Yes. Is it still snowing?”

  “Yep and probably will for a couple of days. The snow made it a little difficult to get you back up here. You weren't exactly dressed for the weather, so I was worried you had hypothermia. I did my best to keep you dry, but the snow was coming from every direction. You ended up getting a little wetter than I would have preferred.”

  “My clothes?” she asked, clearly only now realizing she was wearing nothing but her panties and one of my flannel shirts. She pulled the heavy quilt back and looked down at the plaid covering her body.

  “Like I said, you were soaked, and hypothermia was setting in. I didn't really feel up to making the trek back down to the car to get your suitcase. Once you’re feeling better and I know you can be alone, I'll go back down there,�
�� I explained.

  “Oh. You, uh, you undressed me?”

  I shrugged. “It wasn't like you could do it yourself.”

  “Thank you,” she muttered, pulling the quilt back up to her chin.

  She leaned her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. I assumed she was going back to sleep.

  “I'm really sorry for being such a bitch.”

  “What?”

  “Earlier, when I showed up here. I'm sorry for being so rotten. Long day,” she added, her eyes still closed.

  I shrugged, even though she couldn't see it. “It's okay. I wasn't exactly friendly. It isn't often I get somebody up here claiming they've paid to rent my house.”

  Her eyes opened. “I think that would have taken me by surprise too.”

  “I should have made you stay,” I blurted out. “I know what those roads are like when it snows, and I know how quickly a little snow can turn into a full-blown blizzard.”

  A wan smile spread across her face. “I don't think you could have made me do anything. I can be a bit stubborn.”

  I laughed. “No shit. But, seriously, I really wish I’d pushed harder for you to at least stay until it stopped snowing.”

  “Oh, well. It's too late now. It's done and over, and I’m paying for my mistake.”

  Her voice sounded a little better. I hoped it meant she was through the worst of it. Despite my confidence that she was okay, I was still concerned. I couldn't have this woman dying on my watch. I already had a reputation in town, and I didn’t need any more trouble than I’d already had in the past few years.

  “You feel like trying to eat some soup?” I asked.

  She seemed to be feeling a little stronger, and I needed to keep her hydrated. There was color in her cheeks again, which was a good sign. She had been so pale the past twenty-four hours that I had to constantly lean in close to make sure she was still breathing.

  “I don't know. I don't feel so good,” she moaned.

  “Let's try some soup. Just a bit. I think getting something in your stomach may help. I'm sure you’re hungry. Did you eat before you flew out here yesterday?”

  She stared up at the ceiling. “I don't know. I don't remember.”

  “It's okay. Don't stress about it. I'll be back. Close your eyes, and try to relax a bit.”

  I walked out of my bedroom and into the kitchen. The cabin was small and only had the one bedroom. I had slept on the floor next to the bed last night in case she needed anything. I wasn’t exactly happy that she was here, but I was trying not to be a total dick.

  I quickly opened a can of chicken noodle soup before putting half of it in a pot on the stove to heat. I threw a few more logs on the fire while I waited.

  Once the soup was warm, I carried it in a cup with a spoon back to the room.

  “Okay, I brought you a spoon, but I put it in a cup if that makes it easier to sip instead.”

  She was propped up a little in the bed, and I could see something was wrong.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked putting the cup down and dropping low to look her in the eyes.

  “I, uh, I need to go to the bathroom,” she said, clearly very embarrassed. “I don't think I can stand. I feel very weak.”

  “I'll carry you. I can't risk you falling.”

  “No!”

  I sighed. “I'll carry you into the bathroom, get you situated, and let you take care of things on your own. When you're ready, I'll bring you back to the bed.”

  I knew she wanted to protest but need overrode her modesty.

  “Okay.”

  I pulled the covers back, exposing her shapely legs and leaned down to carry her like I had yesterday all the way up the mountain road to my home. She tugged the shirt down, trying to cover her tanned skin, but it wasn't long enough to do the trick.

  I pretended not to notice and quickly strode to the bathroom, steadied her on her feet and instructed her to use the wall and the counter to support herself before stepping out of the room.

  I waited, and it wasn't long before I heard the toilet flush followed by a thud. I shook my head. Clearly, she had tried to walk out on her own.

  I pushed open the door to find her sitting on the floor.

  “I told you not to try and walk,” I scolded as I scooped her up and carried her back to the bed.

  “I know. I thought I could at least make it to the door.”

  I didn't answer her. Instead, I tucked her in bed, grabbed the pillow I’d used off the floor, and propped it up behind her.

  “Here, drink and then maybe next time, you’ll have the strength to make it to the door on your own steam.”

  “Thank you,” she said before taking a sip of the broth. I waited, ready to help her if she was going to be sick or couldn't hold the cup any longer.

  “I don't think I can drink anymore,” she handed the half-empty cup back to me.

  “You did well. That will help. Now, lay down and get some rest. When you wake up again, you're going to feel a lot better.”

  She nodded and slid down the bed as I pulled out the pillow. She closed her eyes, and within seconds, I could hear the steady slow breathing indicating she had fallen asleep.

  I stared down at her sleeping figure and shook my head. How had I gotten myself into this?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Madison

  My eyes popped open, and I found myself staring up at a relatively low log ceiling. I blinked a few times, looked to my left and saw I was in a room inside what had to be a log cabin. I looked down at my body and discovered a big, heavy quilt on top of me. Then, everything came flooding back. I was in Chase Nichols' cabin. I had been in a car accident, and he had brought me here to heal.

  I took a deep breath, testing my ability to breathe without pain and was pleasantly relieved to feel it wasn't as bad as it’d been when I woke up before. I looked to my right to see out the window, but a heavy curtain blocked it. I didn't know if it was day or night or what day it was.

  I took stock of my injuries starting from my head and working my way down to my toes, cataloging the parts that were still sore. The soreness was the least of my worries. The sex dream I’d had at some point had left me very horny. In my dream, I had been able to reach an orgasm numerous times. I could tell by the way my body felt primed and ready, I hadn't actually climaxed and was in desperate need. I felt tingly and super sensitive. Even the sheet rubbing against my bare legs was irritating me in the best way.

  I looked around the cozy room and considered using my finger to get myself off, but I didn’t want Chase to walk in on that scene. Dreaming about the man and getting this turned on was bad enough.

  “Hey,” the man who had been the star of my dream said in a soft tone as he walked into the doorway. “I was just coming to check on you.”

  “Hi,” I said, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Looking at him as he was now, live and in the flesh and remembering the man who had fucked me senseless in my dreams was a little disconcerting.

  When I first met him, I had ignored his rugged good looks. Clearly, my subconscious had not.

  “You look a lot better. Are you feeling any better?” he asked, coming to sit next to me on the bed, his hand going to my forehead. “You are a little flushed though. Are you too warm?”

  I could feel my embarrassment growing. If he only knew why I was flushed. It had nothing to do with me being too warm.

  “I'm feeling better. What time is it?”

  “Almost lunch.”

  “What day is it?”

  He smiled. “Monday.”

  I quickly calculated the days. “I've been in bed since Saturday?”

  He nodded. “Your body needed the rest.”

  “I guess so. I'm feeling a little queasy. I think I need to use the bathroom,” I said, feeling extremely nauseous.

  “Oh, yeah, let me help you,” he said jumping off the bed.

  I managed to get to a sitting position and swing my legs over the side of the bed. “I'll try to wal
k.”

  “I'll be right here,” he said, putting one of his big hands on my elbow and the other at the small of my back.

  My legs felt like wet noodles. With a great deal of effort and a lot of support from him, I made it into the bathroom. I managed to use the toilet and even splash some water on my face before the exhaustion set in.

  “Chase,” I said in a weak voice.

  The door swung open, and he was right there to catch me. He carried me back to bed without saying a word.

  “I'll get you some more soup. You need to eat to build up your strength.”

  I nodded, knowing he was right but not sure my stomach was going to tolerate food.

  He left, and I sank into the pillows he’d propped up behind me. I felt as weak as a newborn babe.

  “Here,” he said, sitting next to me on the bed. “You need to eat some of the noodles this time. The broth isn’t going to get you very far for long.”

  “Okay.”

  I took the spoon and sipped some of the broth before slurping a noodle into my mouth. I knew it wasn't exactly ladylike, but the man had already seen me at my worst.

  He dabbed at my chin with a napkin. I wanted to cry at how gentle and caring he was. Somewhere in the past couple of days, his gruff demeanor had softened a little toward me. He probably just felt sorry for me, but at least he wasn’t still acting like I was annoying the shit out of him with my mere presence.

  I finished the soup, and he left with the empty bowl. When he came back, he was carrying a glass of water and a cup of what appeared to be steaming tea.

  “How are you feeling? Any better?”

  I nodded. “Actually, yes, a little. I still feel like I was hit by a truck, but at least the room isn't spinning. I can’t believe I’ve slept for so long.”

  He shrugged. “You needed it.”