by Frankie Love
It is so final, so swift.
It took so many years to grow that tree, and then in a few hours it is chopped down to nothing. A fallen log with no life.
The same thing has happened to me, and the realization sends tears to my eyes. I spent twenty-one years working hard to grow into something beautiful and good and strong and sure.
And then one night, one choice, caused my life to crash to the forest floor, just like this tree.
Timber.
Jaxon’s chest is bare, his beard a bit longer than I remember. The second I see him, I want to run my hands all over his skin. I want to fall into his arm, smell his earthy scent—the pine needles and wood stove smell of a man. I want him to carry me away from the nightmare that is my life.
It’s as if when I came here before I entered a dream, and when I left I floated into a nightmare.
I want to go to sleep with Jaxon, in his bed, wrapped in his arms.
When I was with him, everything made sense, even though it was the opposite of everything I valued. Jaxon made me feel safe in a way no one else ever has.
But these thoughts shame me.
Have I learned nothing this month?
My actions have consequences. My family still shuns me half the time, shake their heads in disapproval. The entire congregation knows about my lost virginity.
I am a used woman.
And now, the moment I see Jaxon, all I think is that I want to be used again. Over and over.
But I won’t have what I want.
I owe him the truth.
He must be surprised to see me, but he doesn’t show it. He looks worried, and I scan myself self-consciously, wondering if I look so different now than I did before, when I was undressed and offering myself to him.
I can’t go in that cabin. I don’t trust myself in there, so when he offers me something to eat or drink I shake my head. I suggest a walk in the woods.
We walk into the trees, and as we do it’s as if we are sheltered by their branches, covered by their limbs.
I feel safe out here, with Jaxon, but I’m too scared to speak.
The family of deer calms my nerves, but the real thing that soothes my anxiety is Jaxon’s hand on mine. He squeezes it tight, and I remember to breathe.
No one has touched me in six weeks, not since that first hug from my mother when I walked in the door.
It’s a part of my lesson, my father says.
I must tell Jaxon the truth.
I open my mouth.
My words hit the air with a force that scares the deer away; they startle, and run as fast as they can. Jax turns in shock, startled by my words, too.
“Jaxon,” I say. “I’m pregnant with your baby.”
Chapter 12
JAX
I stare at Harper. Her pale blue eyes are filled with tears, and I hate to see her this way.
I’ll admit, hearing that she’s pregnant gets me hard. It turns me on, knowing my powerful seed filled her. I remember her dripping pussy; I remember how desperate she was for my massive wood. A slow smile spreads across my face, remembering our time together.
But her wounded eyes bring me back to reality. I may have knocked her up, but this is a hell of a lot more complicated than two people in love making a baby and living happily fucking ever after. Harper and I are strangers, and the last thing I need is a woman hanging around for longer than one night—let alone her kid.
“Fuck, Harper. I did not see that coming.”
“I know, Jaxon, it’s too much. I can’t even think straight yet ... but I thought you deserved to know.”
I run a hand over my beard, trying to think of anything besides the fact that her jacket does nothing to hide her perfect tits, that her skintight leggings show me every curve on her body. That all I want to do is hold her against a tree and take her again, like we did in my cabin.
I want to take her all day and all night.
But she doesn’t appear to be filled with the same sort of desire. She mostly looks fucking terrified.
“What are you thinking, Jaxon?” Harper asks. “I’ve been agonizing over this the entire drive here. Thinking about what we should do ... how this might work. My head hurts. I can’t figure this out on my own.”
“Well, shit, I don’t want your head to hurt, Harp.” I step toward her, cupping her cheeks with both my hands. Touching her stills my wild heart for a moment, but what I really want is to growl filthy words in her ear, devour her pouty lips and push my fingers in her opening until she screams my name.
What I really want is to pretend she didn’t come here today to tell me I’m her baby-daddy, and instead act like she came out here ready to be taken hard and fast.
Her breath catches as I lean in to kiss her, but she doesn’t push me away.
Her lips are sweet and I press my tongue in her mouth, tasting her as I run my hands through her hair, pulling her closer to me.
She looks up, into my eyes. “Shouldn’t we talk?”
“You wanna talk right now?”
She shakes her head, her eyes close, and I can imagine this woman has had a fucking long six weeks, what with her screwed-up family and freaky fiancé. I’ll make her forget all those worries for a while.
I unzip her jacket and tug it off. Lifting the hem of her shirt I raise it over her head, without saying a motherfucking word.
“Out here? Will someone see?” Harper is so fucking on edge, I’m taking it as my responsibility to get her to loosen up.
“Honey, no one’s out here. Now let me fuck you. I know that’s what you want. What you need.”
She nods her head, ekes out the slightest moan, and I toss her shirt to the forest floor.
Her tits are as perfect as I remembered, but fuck me now, they seem to have doubled in size since I saw her last.
“They’re swollen ... because of the ... well, because. Be soft?” Harper’s inflection sends a chill down my spine. She’s not like any woman I’ve ever met—she’s more tender, more pure. She fucking needs a man to take control, and I will.
“Oh. I’ll be soft with your tits, but nothing else.” I pull down the lace of her white bra and then bring her perfect hard nipple into my mouth, suck it slowly, before moving to the other one. Harper’s body is so primed for this moment. Her back arches in response; her legs spread subconsciously. “I bet you’ve been thinking of my massive cock for six weeks straight.”
She doesn’t answer, just bites her lip, hiding a smile. And I know she has been dreaming of it. Of me.
“You touch yourself at night?” I ask. “Remembering my wood, how it filled you up and made you drip?”
“I did, Jaxon,” she moans as I press my hand down the front of her pants, under her soaked panties, fingering her soft folds. Oh, Harper has been thinking about my cock all right. Her pussy is fucking swollen with desire.
“Good, because I’ve been thinking of your pussy—how good you taste, how hard you got me—every day, too.”
“I thought you had lots of women out here?”
“Naw,” I say, shaking my head as I rub her clit until her head falls back in delight. “I don’t bring women out here. I left that behind in the city. Out here, I’ve only had you. I prefer to play by my own fucking rules, be my own man. And most women don’t understand that.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, pulls herself closer to me, grinding into my stiff wood. “Fuck me, Jaxon. Out here, in the wild. I like you out here, untamed.”
Her words fill me with confidence, not like I motherfucking need it. I know how well I fuck, but I like taking Harper. She likes to compliment, to tell me what kind of man I am.
Her hands squeeze my bare back; my solid chest is against hers. Stepping back, I unbuckle my jeans, tug them down, and reveal my hardness for her. She sucks in air, the same way she did before, and shakes her head as if she can’t believe it.
“Oh, Jaxon, just looking at it makes me so ... so ….”
“Wet?”
“Exactly.” She steps out of her s
hoes, pulls off her leggings and panties—and she must have known today would end in a good fucking, because her pussy is nice and trimmed, ready for me to lick her clean.
Her feet step gingerly on the grassy bank, but I won’t let her get dirty. I lift her up at the waist, her legs wrapping around me. Massive pine trees surround us, the forest is full of birds chirping and water flowing in the creek. The deer family is long gone, but I am sure some critters are around here watching us. I fucking hope they are. They can watch and learn.
I press my cock into her opening. I know we got here fast, but it’s chilly out here, and this woman is fucking pregnant. I’ll take it nice and slow later, but right now what Harper needs is to be fucked silly, until all the stress and worry of her life at home are gone. Until her mind is filled with one thing, and one thing only.
My wood.
HARPER
Oh, my heart. My legs are wrapped around him, and his thickness fills me again. I think I might burst.
For the past six weeks I’ve tried to remember what it felt like to have Jaxon inside me. I even tried to recreate the sensation with my own hand ... but that was ridiculous. Because, I mean, I don’t even know what I could use to actually recreate the size and force of Jaxon inside of me.
I sit on his cock, and he thrusts into me deep, then deeper. His hands stroke my ass as I bounce on top of him.
“Fuck me, Jaxon,” I say, letting the forbidden words escape my lips deliciously. I have thought of this moment—me being with him again—so many times it made me dizzy. And now I have him inside me once more. I know I’m playing with fire, but right now I want to burn.
“You like that, Harp?” he asks, and I squeak out a yes, because that is the best I can do. The walls of my pussy are blazing hot—scorching really. It’s an all-consuming moment as he pushes deeper into me once again.
And then I’m moaning as he fills me with his come, and I feel my own juice pour out, slick on his base as he slams me down on his hard cock a final time.
His insanely large biceps lift me off him, setting me on the ground. Holding me up as we fucked didn’t even seem to faze him. He’s so strong and capable. I’m out of breath, but he just grins like a beast—a man made to have sex in the woods. His bare chest and bare ass, his long beard and piercing eyes. He is an animal and I want him to take me like I am his prey.
“You want to come inside my cabin now, or are ya still scared of what I might do to you?” Jaxon asks, pulling up his pants. I reach down to put on my own clothing, blushing as I do.
“I’m not scared of you,” I say, adjusting my tender breasts in my bra, then straightening my top. I tell him I’m not scared, but I am completely terrified. I have no idea what I should do next—I just hope Jaxon will be willing to help me figure it out. You know, before I hyperventilate in fear of the unknown future.
“Good, then come in,” he says. “Let’s talk.”
Jaxon opens the door, holds it for me.
I look around the cabin and see it for what it is. I didn’t remember what it was like in the daylight. When Luke came here to find me, to drag me home, the morning was so dramatic, I wept as I left.
Now I can see the tiny cabin in the light of day. It’s a complete bachelor pad. It isn’t dirty or skeevy or anything like that, but it’s definitely Jaxon’s. I realize, not for the first time, that I don’t really know anything about him, what he does out here besides chop wood like a lumberjack. I don’t know what I’m expecting from him ... I mean, besides fixing all my problems.
I sit down on a chair by the fireplace, and rock nervously. The bearskin rug is still on the floor, and I’m reminded of how I fell asleep there, curled up, feeling so safe and warm. Looking around now, though, I’m not so sure if this place offers the same comfort I hoped it would.
Jax’s big, loveable dog Jameson pouts at his feet until he relents and tosses him a bone from the cupboard.
“You hungry too?” he asks me, pulling the tap on his kegerator and filling a frosty glass with beer.
“Actually yeah. I’m starving.” Which is true, but also the first time I’ve had an appetite in weeks. Looks like what I needed to get me hungry was for Jaxon to take me in the woods. “Let me help, though,” I say standing.
Walking around the cabin, toward him, I reassess. Maybe I’m hungry here because I feel comfortable with Jaxon in the woods. Not sick. Not ill, like I do at home. Maybe this is the place I should be. I mean, would it be so bad?
The cabin might be small, but I could have this baby here. The three of us could be cozy in the loft, make a fire and stay warm, together.
Jaxon pulls a loaf of bread from the cupboard and then opens the fridge. He grabs a bunch of sandwich fixings and sets them on the counter. Taking a knife from the drawer, he starts putting a sandwich together. I watch him, not wanting to be bossy, but I can’t help myself.
“Let me do that,” I tell him. “I can make these.”
“Like hell are you making my sandwich.”
“Well, I’m the woman. I can make it. And besides, I can’t eat that,” I say, pointing to the slices of bread slathered in yellow. “I hate mustard.”
Jax laughs. “Really? You’re gonna come in my kitchen and tell me I’m doing it wrong?”
“Mustard is just gross.”
“Honey, take a seat. I’ll make you your sandwich, and I promise you’ll like it.”
I shrug, knowing I’m not going to get anywhere with him. Pulling out a chair at the table built for two, I sit and watch him in the kitchen. It’s interesting, I mean, I can’t ever remember seeing my own father making something as simple as a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—let alone this ham and Swiss, lettuce and tomato masterpiece Jaxon is putting together.
My father always had someone serving him. It was always my mother or me, or now my younger sisters, waiting on him hand and foot. He was the head of the household; we needed to serve him.
But it doesn’t seem like Jaxon uses the same logic. He puts the ham sandwich on a plate, fishes a pickle out of a jar, and adds it to the lunch, and then hands me the meal.
I smile but, inwardly, fear rumbles though me. Maybe he won’t see this baby as his responsibility. Maybe he won’t want, or even offer, to take care of it.
What will I do then? I can’t have this baby at home, without a husband. But looking at Jaxon now, seeing the scrawling tattoos across his skin and the beer he carries to the table, hearing the coarse words that fall from his lips, it might be a stretch to think a baby would cause him to become a father.
“So you back with that asshole?” he asks.
The sandwich is near my mouth and, even though it’s full of mustard, I have to admit that it’s way more appealing than anything Subway has ever made me. I pause, though, before I take a bite.
“Back with who?”
“That asshole who showed up here and yanked you back to your cult?”
“Oh, Luke? No, we aren’t together. He’s actually long gone. Went to Colorado for Bible College. He and I are over. I mean, I think he would have considered me, for a second, but not once he found us ....”
“Naked?”
“Right.” Heat rises to my cheeks, so I fill in the intensity of Jax’s single word by shoving the sandwich in my mouth.
“So what did your parents do?” he asks.
“Oh, they don’t know about the baby.”
“No,” Jax shakes his head. “About you. You left here all terrified that they were gonna kick you to the curb because you got properly fucked. Did they?”
“I’m still living at home.” I pick up the dill pickle and take a crunchy bite. Smiling, I add, “They did send me to a sex addicts meeting though.”
“You shitting me?” Jax takes a swig of his beer, cocking a brow at me.
“I know, and they only thought I had sex once.” I laugh, grateful that Jax has pulled me from the stress of what happens next, and instead helped me remember to laugh. “Who knows what would have happened if they knew the tru
th—that after Luke showed up, we went for another round.”
“You ready for another round now?” Jax asks as I take another huge bite from the sandwich.
Swallowing, I say, “Sure.” At this point I just want to avoid the potentially awkward and traumatizing conversation that we have to have eventually. For now, ignorance is bliss.
“The mustard isn’t bad, right?” Jax asks, as I stand from the table.
“Yeah,” I say. “I guess I don’t always know what is good for me.”
“Well, honey, I have one thing that will always be good for you.” Jax takes me by the waist and pulls me to him.
I lean in, realizing I want anything he offers up.
Chapter 13
JAX
I have this honey stripped of her clothes in five seconds flat. I know we just fucked in the woods, but I swear to God, watching her mouth on that dill pickle got me hard as a fucking log. I needed her lips wrapped around my cock the same way. And I won’t wait.
Luckily, Harper has spent her whole life being repressed, and she must view the woods as the only place she can let loose. Watching her rip out of her clothing tells me everything I need to know. This girl is ready to have her mind blown.
I take off my pants, my cock standing at attention, the long, thick rod already throbbing, just imagining her mouth sucking me off nice and good. I want this girl on her knees, and I want to watch as she takes me in her mouth until my cock hits the back of her throat.
I watch Harper fling her bra to the floor. Her big, gorgeous tits now free, she teases me by taking her hand and rubbing it over her milky globe. She licks a finger, pinches her own nipples, then dips it low, between her legs, and presses her delicate finger into herself.
“Jax, I know I said your cock was pretty before—but it’s really, really gorgeous. Like, when you undress, and I see how big and hard you are, it makes me want to do things ... things that I don’t even know if we can do.”
“Things like what, honey?” I ask, walking toward her. Knowing nothing is off limits. Feeling the heat rise in Harper, it rises in me too.