The Lumberjack's Nanny: A Forbidden Romance (Rockford Falls Romance)

by Natasha L. Black

  In the shower, I couldn’t get him off my mind. Specifically, my body throbbed for him, a yearning and emptiness howling for satisfaction. I was rubbing foamy body wash across my skin with my mesh sponge when I noticed my nipples were super sensitive. I couldn’t resist stroking them, plucking at them while I let my mind drift back to Max and how it felt to have his mouth on mine. The plain truth of it was that I’d been thrilled. So happy that he clearly felt the same attraction for me, that he wanted me as fiercely as he kissed.

  So I couldn’t really blame myself for sliding slick, soapy hands over my eager nipples and letting one hand trail down the curve of my stomach and nestle between my thighs. My soft strokes gave way to a full-blown fantasy.

  Max knocks at my door, his hair messed up from raking his hands through it. “I couldn’t stay away,” he says, anguished. Then he reaches for me, pulls me into his arms right on my doorstep and kisses me, nearly bending me backward with the force of his passion. I invite him in, blushing, happy. I mean to say something nonchalant, offer him a drink, but we’re all over each other before I can get my thoughts together.

  Wild, breathless kisses consume my senses as he backs me toward my bedroom. He strips my clothes off, and he’s between my legs, the rasp of that beard tantalizing my most sensitive parts. His hot, wet mouth is such a contrast to the luscious scrape of his beard as he licks and kisses me there, sucking my tender folds, lapping at them until he settles his mouth to the knot of nerves that seems to glow with furious arousal. The pressure and heat of his lips and tongue there send me spiraling into orgasm.

  As Max surges up onto the bed above me, I don’t have time to catch my breath before he’s entering me, the penetration of his long, impressive erection making me shiver with want and nervousness. I haven’t had a man in so long, and never one so well-endowed. It’s intimidating and thrilling all at once. As soon as he thrusts inside me, my head goes back with a cry, fingers twisting in the sheets beneath me.

  Overwhelmed, I grabbed the showerhead off its hook and turned it to pulsate. I parted my quivering thighs and used the force of the pulsating water on my aching clit to take me over the edge, my head tipped back against the shower wall, hot water streaming down me as I masturbated wantonly, fantasizing graphic sex acts with my boss. I moaned as I came, called out Max! Yes, Max!

  When my heart stopped thundering so hard, I turned off the water, rehung the showerhead and toweled off. I refused to be ashamed of healthy sexual impulses, and Max had done nothing if not provoked those impulses to the very edge of human tolerance with that kiss. That kiss that set me aflame and sent me to apply my massaging showerhead to the part of my body that wanted him so desperately. Even though I’d come thoroughly, I was still dissatisfied. I didn’t want my hand and a stream of water. I wanted Max. His hands, his voice, his mouth, his cock. Most of all though, I knew I wanted his whole heart.

  14

  Max

  A grown man, a business owner and parent, does not hide from his hired help. I wasn’t hiding from Rachel. I’m a goddamn lumberjack. I carved a new life for myself and my child from the wilderness of my land at the foot of the mountains, felled trees, built furniture with my bare hands. I was a man’s man, smart and capable, living off the land, in touch with the elements, master of all I surveyed. I didn’t hide. I just avoided her. Like any sensible man would do after violating his personal ethics and making out with the nanny. How the mighty had fallen—I’d become a sitcom cliché. In a moment of weakness, I’d succumbed to the attraction between us and regretted it.

  I dodged out of the house as soon as I’d kissed Sadie goodbye in the mornings, and I took over from Rachel with barely a word in the evenings. “I’m sure Rachel needs to get going,” I’d say to my daughter, indirectly dismissing her without actually speaking directly to her at all.

  It was a relief when I made it to Thursday. Just one more day and then I wouldn’t have to see her for three whole days. That kiss had rattled me. I couldn’t get my head together. It wasn’t like anything I’d experienced, and I’d been a playboy in my twenties, handsome and rich and able to get any woman I wanted. I’d had plenty of them and had a great time in the process. I remembered gorgeous, sexy women I’d bedded—but none of them had sent a white-hot thrill through my body at the brush of her lips. I wanted to bring her pleasure like no man ever had. I was in the grip of a desire I had no idea what to do with.

  There was too much at risk. Rachel had such a strong bond with my little Sadie. What if I tried to make a real relationship work with Rachel only for her to walk out of my daughter’s life and abandon her like her mother had? Only worse, because Sadie couldn’t remember the woman who gave birth to her, but she loved Rachel and depended on her. I couldn’t let that happen. My little girl would be devastated, and I didn’t want to think about how I’d react to the loss and heartbreak.

  When I got home from work Thursday, I was ready to practically chase the woman from my cabin to get some peace. It felt crowded even with the scent of her vanilla lotion that seemed to cling to the couch, her forgotten phone charger on the counter or her hairbrush on the bathroom cabinet. Bits of her, her scent or her belongings, a jacket left on a chair or a pair of flip-flops by the door. She’d invaded my home and left a proverbial trail of breadcrumbs, it seemed. I couldn’t look anywhere without seeing a trace of her. Even Sadie, at bedtime, now snuggled with a somewhat worn-out-looking pink mouse called Miranda along with Mooshie the rabbit. It was too much for a man to tolerate.

  As soon as I was in the door, Sadie begged me to let Rachel stay for supper. That was a major ‘oh-hell-no’ that skated up my spine in response.

  “Actually, Rachel has to get to her other job tonight, Sadie. I’m sure she has lots to do,” I said, giving her a really obvious out to turn down the invitation. Making it rather clear that I didn’t intend for her to stay.

  “No, it turns out I have tonight off. I’m covering Sunday afternoon for Tim so he can go to his girlfriend’s grandma’s birthday party. I’m free as a bird.”

  “Okay then,” I said, trying not to sound as resigned as I felt.

  I had been counting on being alone with Sadie after a long week. I wished she’d just go home if she didn’t have to work. Deep down, I wanted her to stay and longed to spend more time with her, but knowing the circumstances were entirely inappropriate, it would’ve been easier for me if she’d just go. I felt worn down by avoiding her, by thinking of her. All of that mental energy that normally ran through me, the free time I channeled into designing and making furniture—all of it was burned up, consumed by her. By the monumental effort it took not to be with her.

  “Would you like to stay?” I managed in a neutral tone, hoping for a Hail Mary play, plans she suddenly recalled or a need to go to the store or something.

  “I’d love to. What are we having?”

  “Mac and cheese?” Sadie wheedled.

  “Sure,” I shrugged. “I have some broccoli, and we can have melon for dessert.”

  “Sounds great. I’ll go wash up and I can help.”

  “No, really. You can hang out with Sadie and watch some TV. I’m sure you’re worn out from a long week.”

  “True, but I’m also starved for adult conversation. Don’t you ever get like that?” she quipped.

  “Not really,” I said stiffly.

  She laughed, “Right. So, you’re good with talking about Fancy Nancy all the time and what color of nail polish Hayden had on when we saw her at the library. Absolutely,” Rachel said. She wasn’t wrong.

  “I take an interest in the things that interest my favorite person,” I said.

  “That’s me!” Sadie chimed in.

  “That’s right, Sadie Cakes,” I told her lovingly.

  “So which My Little Pony is your favorite?” she challenged.

  “Rainbow Dash,” I said.

  “I’m not surprised. Rainbow Dash is active and impatient and goal-oriented.”

  “But very loyal. That’s her m
agical thing.”

  “Element of Harmony,” she corrected. “Her element is loyalty. And she’s a warrior and a champion. She’s—the most alpha male of the ponies,” Rachel laughed. I couldn’t help laughing at that.

  “And you are?”

  “Pinkie Pie works in a bakery, hello?” she teased.

  “You are pretty hyper,” I said teasingly right back.

  “I know. It’s always been a thing, but I try to use my powers for good.”

  “Your pies are good,” Sadie said.

  “Thank you. That means I’m succeeding,” Rachel said.

  I looked at her then. How could this be so much fun, so charming? Joking about a pony cartoon over supper with my kid’s sitter? How did it feel so damn right? I rubbed my chest, where I felt a sharp tug. Maybe I’d pulled a muscle chopping wood earlier.

  Or maybe I hadn’t.

  Rachel offered to do the dishes while I bathed Sadie. After I got Sadie dried off and in her nightgown, I asked what story she wanted.

  “Can Rachel put me to bed? Both of you? Please?” she said.

  I was stopped in my tracks at that. Bedtime was a sweet, private ritual between us, and had always been. It was a quiet time to connect with my daughter and reassure her, comfort her if she needed it. Even if Denise put her to bed on rare occasions, she’d just tucked her in and left a nightlight on. She didn’t do the story and the song and the tradition of it. It wasn’t like this, like bringing Rachel into something that was family–only.

  “If you want to,” I said. “I’ll ask her if she can stay for bedtime.”

  “Okay,” she said brightly. “I’ll go pick a book.”

  I turned and went to the kitchen where I found Rachel picking at the leftover melon. She looked up sheepishly at me.

  “Do you have to leave right away? Sadie asked if you would help put her to bed.”

  “I’d love to,” she said, “let me wash my hands.”

  Sadie and I waited on her bed, and Sadie held the candy fairy book from the library that was her latest favorite. When Rachel came in, her bare feet stepping softly on the rug, as if her very movements were hushed, Sadie offered her the book.

  Rachel crouched over the bed to read it and show the pictures, but Sadie scooted over. “There’s room!” she offered.

  There really wasn’t room. There was barely room for myself and Sadie on the twin bed, but I scooted onto my side and Sadie squished into me, so Rachel had room to sort of sit on the bed to read. She shifted onto her side, slid her arm behind us. My daughter nestled into her and I looked at them, at Rachel’s light hair spilling onto the pillow behind Sadie’s brown waves. Rachel did a voice for the grouchy gnome in the story and Sadie giggled and repeated the words a few times. They laughed together. I pointed out a caterpillar wearing glasses and wondered why he had them.

  “So he can read the story, too,” Rachel said. “I mean, not all caterpillars are born with perfect vision. Maybe he’s nearsighted and can’t see the words at the top of the page. Or maybe it was to make him look funny.”

  Sadie shrugged, “Do the gnome again!”

  “He’s not on this page,” Rachel said, “he’s not even in the story again.”

  “Oh, well, can you do the voice anyway?”

  “You want the fairy to sound like a grumpy man?” Rachel teased.

  “No, I like it.”

  “Okay,” and Rachel cleared her throat and said in her gnome voice. “You need to go to sleep, young lady, or I’ll send my friend the troll to get your toes!”

  Sadie giggled and hooted over that and curled her feet up to hide her toes. Rachel spontaneously squeezed her and kissed her hair.

  “You are the best kid, I swear,” she said warmly.

  Sadie’s skinny arms slid around Rachel’s neck and hugged her back. It moved me, seeing my daughter with a woman, acting like she belonged to her. It felt so intimate, in the warm glow of Sadie’s moon lamp, the three of us clustered together reading a bedtime story. A seismic shift rocked me in my chest. What I felt was a bit like joy, like seeing something warm and lovely through the shards of a broken window perhaps, and love. Only the love between Sadie and me, and between Sadie and Rachel. Only that, of course, nothing more. But, by itself, it was beautiful and made me ache.

  When we had finished the book, with me taking a turn with the last few pages, Sadie asked me to sing, and I did. Rachel joined in on the parts she knew of the old song, and Sadie snuggled under her blanket, Mooshie and the mouse both clutched in her arm, and her eyes drifted shut.

  “Her eyelashes are insane, they’re so long and dark,” Rachel whispered. “I can’t quit staring at them. She’s perfect. How can you stand it?” Her eyes met mine.

  “She’s always been that way, perfectly herself. When she was newborn, her fingernails were what killed me. They were so small it looked impossible, but so complete. So pretty,” I admitted.

  Rachel leaned down and kissed Sadie’s forehead. “I love you, baby girl, you have sweet dreams,” she whispered.

  I waited by the door and we left the room, shutting the door behind us. The air between us was thick with the intimacy, the unspoken. What we’d just shared, and the electric current between us. The lush curve of her full lower lip called to me. We weren’t even two steps out of the bedroom when we were all over each other like a flash of lightning had ripped through us both.

  My arm went around her waist, pinning her against me, and her lips parted, open for me, sucking my tongue into her mouth. Sensation rioted through my body like a bolt of fire straight to my cock. Rachel’s hands were on my face, in my beard, her fingertips—God, it felt amazing.

  “I want to feel you,” she said, “everything.” Her breath came in soft gasps.

  “Are you sure?” I managed to grind out, backing up from her for a second, trying to catch my breath that sawed in and out of my chest like I’d run six miles.

  She nodded vigorously, “Yes. So sure. Very sure.” She laughed.

  That was all I needed, the assurance that Rachel wanted me, wanted this as much as I did. I swept her up in my arms. She covered her mouth with her hand because she started to give a squeal at being picked up. I reveled in it, honestly. The feeling of sheer power in my body as I lifted her in my arms, making her kick her feet and squeal because I’d surprised her. I’d be surprising her a lot more in just a few minutes, I thought slyly.

  I took Rachel into my bedroom and shut the door. I was going to make the most of every second of this night.

  15

  Rachel

  I was surprised that kiss hadn’t seared off all my clothes into a pile of ashes on the hallway carpet, leaving me naked and excited. If he could do this to me, reduce me to a quivering, throbbing knot of arousal, with only a kiss on the lips, what could he do with his hands, his cock? I couldn’t wait to find out.

  Max set me down on his bed, a plain king-size with a wooden headboard I’d be willing to bet he made himself, with stout posts at the corners that made me think filthy things. I wanted to grip one of those sturdy wooden posts while he thrust into me later. I might need something solid to hold onto.

  I took off my t-shirt and shorts and kicked them away. Then I sat back for a second in my underwear and watched Max remove his shirt. That body was—exactly what you’d expect an extremely hot lumberjack to look like. His shoulders and arms were heavily muscled, but his torso was lean and strong with a chiseled six-pack of abs and a cut line beside his hips that led down into the gray boxer briefs he wore. Boxer briefs that did nothing to hide the outline of his massive bulge, the long and thick erection barely contained by the fabric that was stretched to its limit by his size and arousal. A darker spot of moisture near the tip made my mouth water. I wanted to touch his cock, stroke it, and suck it, and ride it. I’d never felt this insane about anyone. It was like my brain had derailed and turned into a dirty thought factory ever since I first spoke to him. Max was sexier than anything I could have ever imagined.

  Also,
the truth was, this was Max. This was Sadie’s dad. The guy who didn’t talk about the fact that he’d obviously given up a lot to come live in the woods with his kid and be a single dad. The same guy who never took the easy way out, thought he had to do everything himself, and gave up being anything but lonely to devote his attention and life to his child. He was noble and loyal and self-sacrificing, strong and a fiercely loving father. He joked with me about cartoon horses and cooked a good dinner and let me into his life so far that I got to help tuck Sadie in. There had never been any other option for me besides falling hard and doomed in love with him. He had that kind of heart, the kind that would give up everything to protect his child, the kind that would push away any chance of happiness for himself if there was the slightest risk of his daughter being hurt by it. I wanted to heal that part of him and make him see that I could be here, complete their family in a way that enriched all of our lives and took some of the burden of loneliness from him. We had a connection between us, there was no denying it. He would try. He would fight it tooth and nail. But even if he walked away right now without touching me, I would still belong to him in some way. I was his, as surely as I had been my own until he came along.

  I caught my breath when he reached for me, cupped my face in his big, calloused hands and tipped it up tenderly and kissed me. I could feel the thrum of the leashed power in his body, how tightly he reined it in as he gave me a measured, gentle kiss, working my lips over with his, tantalizing me until I was panting, until I wanted to beg him for more. He dipped his tongue between my lips and withdrew it, teasing, alluring. I chased him with my tongue, a sexy game that went back and forth for several minutes, a feat of restraint. We had wanted to kiss for so long and had held back. So we made up for lost time.