Timber

by Frankie Love

  “Oh, yeah,” I moan, “Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.” My body shakes as he hits a spot deep inside me, over and over again. “I need you in me, Jaxon,” I beg. “Now.”

  I mean it. All I want is to see his thick, gorgeous cock. And even though I want to taste his come as I take him in my mouth, my pussy is screaming with desire, much louder than my brain.

  And so when he pulls off his jeans, revealing that massive rod that fucked me and got me pregnant—the massive rod that fills my opening so good, so nice and tight—I feel the wave of an orgasm wash over me, just remembering. Just seeing him.

  “I need it in me now,” I tell him. Jaxon doesn’t pause. He leans over me and presses his cock inside me, just like I begged him to do. My hunger for him covers me, the same way his mouth covers my own. His tongue finds mine, and once entwined, I taste myself on him. It makes by pussy come hard and fast, and at the same time his long cock hits me deep inside, a spot I could never find myself if I tried for a year. If I tried forever. Because Jaxon’s manhood fills me in a way that nothing else could—nothing else should.

  All I want is this cock in my pussy, for the rest of my life.

  And it isn’t fair to want Jaxon, a man who in so many ways is a stranger, to be mine, but I do. And it isn’t just because he took my virginity. Isn’t just because he got me pregnant. It’s also because he’s a man that no one else can compete with.

  He lives alone in the woods, chops wood, and is dirty in ways that make me blush. His muscled arms and chiseled abs, his biceps covered in ink and his long beard, tell me he’s wild and untamed. Those are the things that make me want Jaxon. Completely.

  But they are also the things that confirm Jaxon will never commit, never be a husband, never be the things I really need.

  His hardest pulses through me, as the waves of orgasm continue to ripple through my body. He pulls a nipple into his mouth and the very touch sends tingles through my core. Every touch, every time we come together, all I can think is that I want more. More of him.

  When we finish, he takes my hands and lifts me up.

  “I need to show you something,” he says. “It’s my apology gift.”

  I take a blanket from the back of the chair, and wrap it around myself. Jaxon pulls his jeans back on, and then points to the corner where something is covered in a sheet.

  “That’s yours.”

  “A present for me?”

  “Yeah,” he says, shrugging. “I made it. For you. I mean, I know you decided to have this baby ... and I don’t know how you want me to support you in all of this ... but whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

  He doesn’t offer to marry me, or something old-fashioned, and I don’t expect him to. That would be too much, too soon.

  Especially since I have to tell him something that is about to change all of this.

  “Go on,” Jaxon says. “Look.”

  Smiling, I walk over to the corner and lift off the sheet.

  What he made for me leaves me gasping.

  “Jaxon ... I don’t know what to say. It’s so thoughtful.” Jaxon has carved a beautiful wooden cradle with his bare hands. I press my hand to it, and it sways gently on its rockers. Beautiful cedar is perfectly pieced. “I didn’t know you worked with wood other than—”

  “Chopping it?” Jaxon smirks. “Yeah, well I grew up making furniture with my dad. Thought I’d go into business with him someday, but he wanted to retire, travel. So I said, fuck it, I’ll go into business with my buddy Dean instead. We have a wood hauling company now. Anyways,” Jaxon shrugs. “Either way, I work with wood. And so I thought this is the peace offering you deserve. The baby and you deserve.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I say, holding back tears. Just barely. The words I really need to say hanging on my lips.

  “Hope those are happy tears, then, Harp,” he says, smiling. “So you think this will work for the baby?”

  “Um. Sort of.” I look up at him, my heart laced with so much emotion, it’s filled to the brim.

  “What do you mean, sort of?” he asks, not understanding.

  “Well, we’re going to need two more,” I tell Jaxon. The father of my children. “Because, Jaxon, I’m pregnant with triplets.”

  Chapter 17

  JAX

  No fucking way. Triplets?

  “Is this some prank, Harper? Because I don’t get the joke.” My chest pounds at the words, because fuck. This is just way too much. Too soon.

  Her hand runs across the smooth wood of the cradle I’ve carved for our baby. Singular. And now ... her eyes are filled with emotions, but I don’t know this woman well enough to know which emotions they are.

  “It’s not a joke. I wouldn’t joke about this.” She walks over to her purse, sitting by the leatherback chair, and pulls out pictures. Crossing back to me at the cradle, she hands them over. “See for yourself. Three babies, Jaxon. It’s pretty obvious.”

  I take a deep breath and hold up the photos. The ultrasound images are damn clear, just as she said. Three distinct babies. A technician has typed a 1, 2, and 3 over the heads as if it wasn’t clear enough. Oh, it’s clear all right. Crystal.

  “Say something....” Harper says. “I mean, I’ve been thinking about it all day, ever since Doctor Vance dropped the bomb. I just need you to say something. Anything.”

  Being a father was on the periphery of my mind, I guess. But shit, I’m twenty-eight years old. Not ready to be tied down in the least ... and this one-night stand has gotten ridiculously out of control. Triplets? Fuck, I’m way over my head.

  “Jaxon, what are you thinking?”

  What the hell am I supposed to say to her? That I just wrapped my head around one kid, and now we’re having three? That I’m trying to be a fucking man here, but have no desire to be a father? Can’t say that. She’s already a mess; my truth would just destroy her.

  “So what happens next?” I ask.

  She huffs. And I know this moment is wrought with intensity and I should be fucking spinning out of control right now, but damn, she is adorable when she gets worked up.

  “What happens next?” She snorts, suddenly sounding more of a cynic than I would have believed possible. “Next I push three people from my body.”

  “Okay, I know that,” I say, raising my hands in defeat. “I mean, like, what did the doctor say? Are the babies healthy? Are you healthy?”

  Maybe I finally said the right thing, because at least she begins wiping her tears away.

  “They’re healthy. And I guess I’m not surprised about there being more than one baby in there, because I really am huge for only being three months along. I’ve seen my mother carry so many children, and she never showed like this, so soon. But it’s pretty obvious I won’t be able to hide it from them much longer.”

  “And you want to hide it?” I ask. Her family dynamics are seriously screwed up. It’s one thing if she was sixteen year old–but Harper is a woman. She shouldn’t be scared of her parents.

  “I just know that as soon as I tell them ... my life will change. Forever.”

  “How so, exactly?

  “They’ll never look at me the same way. My place in the church family will change. Everyone will see me as less-than, used. Everyone will think I’m a sinner.” Harper walks over to the chair by the fireplace and sits down with her hands on her stomach, protectively.

  I sit in the chair beside her, looking for words that won’t upset her—or at least for words that won’t upset her more.

  “But you said you wanted babies ... to be a mom. Do you still mean that, now that you’re having triplets?”

  “I don’t know, Jaxon. When Doctor Vance pointed to the three beating hearts, it felt like ... I know this sounds weird, but it felt like a miracle. Like, for some reason I have the privilege of carrying three babies? That’s amazing. But then, driving here, the weight of it started to overwhelm me. Like, I can barely stand on my own two feet, and now I’ll have three pairs of feet depending on me ... for everything. I d
on’t even have a home of my own, any means of supporting them—how can I expect to do this?”

  “I’ll help. I’ll do whatever you need.”

  “What does that even mean, Jaxon?”

  “I don’t know,” I tell her, honestly. Because I have no fucking clue what it means. I just know I need to step up to the plate. Somehow.

  “I need more than I don’t know.”

  “Fuck, Harper, you can live here,” I say, running my hands through my hair, throwing out the first thing that pops into my mind. “I have money, I’ll give you money.”

  “Money isn’t going to solve everything.”

  “In this situation, it’ll solve an awful fucking lot.”

  I stand, a ball of nerves. Did I seriously just tell Harper she can move in? What the hell am I thinking? I go to the kitchen and pour a few inches of whiskey in a tumbler, then begin pacing the room.

  “It just sounds ... crass,” she says, her nose scrunched.

  “Well, get used to it, honey. I’m a fucking man. Okay? I don’t know what pansy-ass preachers boys you’ve spent your life with, but that ain’t me.”

  “I know what you are, Jaxon. You are practically a stranger. And, no offense, you have an amazing body ... but I need more than that.”

  Now it’s my turn to snort. “Beggars can’t really be choosers, Harp.”

  “That isn’t nice, to call me a beggar. I didn’t mean to get pregnant.”

  “You’re also the only woman I’ve ever met over the age of eighteen who isn’t on birth control.”

  “I don’t believe in using birth control, Jaxon. Which is just, like, the five hundredth thing you don’t know about me.”

  I stop pacing, turn toward her. “Well, then, enlighten me, Harper, the mother of my children. Tell me what I need to know.”

  “You wanna know things about me, Jaxon?” She shakes her head, standing, and coming toward me. She stops at my feet, pointing her index finger at my chest. “Then you need to be nice and act like a gentleman and ask me questions about myself. Get to know me as someone other than a girl you like to sleep with.”

  “I’ll do some of what you want, honey. I’ll ask you questions and play nice, but I won’t be a gentleman. I’m rough. And hard. I’m wild, and I think that is exactly why you’re so undone when you’re with me. You think you want to tame me, but you don’t. A tamed man doesn’t fuck like a free one.”

  Harper sucks in a sharp, quick breath, and I take that as my fucking cue. I wrap my arms around her and pull her into a deep, long kiss.

  A kiss that keeps her from talking back, because, right now, I want her to remember why she returned. Why she’s come back for me, come back for more.

  She didn’t come back here—twice—because she wants to talk. She keeps coming back because she wants to lose her fucking mind.

  HARPER

  His mouth on mine causes a stirring deep within me. Again. I swear this will never get old. I love it when he tells me what I need, what I should want. I love it when he takes control ... because right now I am so over my head that I don’t want to be in control at all.

  Instead, I’ll lose myself in him.

  He says he’ll let me stay here? Fine. I don’t want to face reality at home.

  He says he’ll throw money at the situation? Good. Because I have literally zero dollars to pay for doctors and maternity clothes, and I’m not even thinking about the actual needs of infants. Times three.

  He wants to kiss me, undress me, drop to his knees and lick me? Wonderful. Because, when he does that, he makes me forget.

  Everything about his plan is better than the alternative, which is me going home and facing my family and figuring out how to be a grown-up. I don’t want to grow up if it means less of Jax’s mouth on mine. I don’t want to be an adult if it means no more midday orgasms. No more of th—

  Ohmigod ... Jax has pressed his hands down the front of my pants and ... ohh....

  “Jax, that feels so ... so ....”

  “Shush, honey. You need to stop thinking. You need to forget.” It’s as if he’s reading my mind.

  I squeak out, “Okay,” before kissing him again. His lips are so soft, and the complete opposite of his rough beard. His mouth devours mine, his tongue caressing my own as he holds the back of my head with one hand. I moan, pressing my body against his.

  His other hand touches my folds, his fingers deftly finding the spot that turns my desire on in a deep, more heated way. He dips his fingers into my opening, causing me to claw at the waistband of his jeans, wanting him undressed. Now.

  “I like it when you get all excited,” he purrs in my ear. His hot breath sends a shiver across my skin.

  I can’t suppress my smile, and I don’t want to. I want to give in to this moment, because that is what this cabin, what being with Jaxon has always offered—an escape.

  Maybe that makes me weak, or a potentially terrible parent—but right now, I’m going to take Jaxon’s hard, chiseled body as the gift it is. A gift that’s mine to unwrap.

  I unbutton his jeans, push them down until they fall on the floor. He doesn’t even have any boxers on; he had just stepped out of the shower when I arrived. His hands tug on my pants, and he shimmies them off me, removing them and my panties in one fell swoop.

  As I step out of my clothes, I take in Jaxon from head-to-toe. His piercing eyes and strong nose, his beard that I remember tickled me when his head was buried between my legs, and the taut muscles stretched across his shoulders. His abs are solid, covered in ink just like his biceps. Everything about him is a piece of rugged art, something forged from the land, and right now I feel like he was created just for me.

  And then, my eyes reach his cock, and I feel the contractions of my pussy, how needy it becomes so quickly when I look at his solid wood. His perfect, huge cock is hard as a rock. It’s large, and solid, the skin stretched tight, and his groin is so irresistible, I feel drawn to it, to him. I just want to press my body tight against his, to feel his shaft against my skin.

  “You like that, don’t you, looking at my cock?” Jaxon asks.

  I nod, biting my lip, my nipples tingling under my shirt, beneath my bra. I want him to take it off me, but I also want his fingers back on my pussy, his hands to slap my ass. I want his mouth breathing hot air in my ears, whispering words that make my core tremble.

  I want so much. Mostly, I want him. Without thinking, I reach down to my opening, and I dip two fingers into my entrance. I’m so wet, so ready for him. I pull out my fingers, teasingly, and pull Jaxon closer, pressing my fingers in his mouth so he can suck off my juice.

  He moans as he sucks my fingers. Then in one swift motion, he rips my shirt off, pulling it over my head, his eyes greedily looking down at my tits. They’re so big right now; I swear they’ve doubled in size since I became pregnant.

  He reaches behind me, growling as he does, as if he’s overcome with a predatory desire. He unclasps my bra and my breasts fall out, unencumbered and ready for him to suck and lick, ready for him to press his hard cock against them, to come across my skin like he’s done before.

  “I want you so bad,” I moan.

  Good,” he says, pulling back my hair, twisting it in his hands, tugging on it so my chin lifts, so I am looking right at him. “Because I’m gonna fuck you right now.”

  He lifts one of my thighs, smacks my ass. Carries me to the kitchen table, sweeping off the salt and pepper shakers, the paper towel roll, a book. He pushes them away, and sets me down on the bare wooden surface.

  With my legs apart, he draws closer to me, his hands cupping my face as he kisses me again, deeply. His tongue is against mine, and as they are interlocked the heat continues to rise within me.

  One of his hands lowers, grazing my nipple, thumbing it, and rubbing in a circle. Then he bends down, lifting it to his mouth. He sucks my breast and it stimulates every inch of my skin. I am so wet, I literally feel myself soaking his table.

  I lean back, my arms holding me up
on the table, and I feel so vulnerable, splayed out like this for him, but Jaxon seems to love it. Seems to want it just as bad as I do.

  “Are you ready for my cock?” he asks, taking hold of himself, and guiding it into my opening. “Because I’m gonna fuck you hard and fast.”

  “Do that, do it like that to me,” I pant. “Hard. I want it hard, Jaxon.”

  He smiles at me, his cocky grin so completely gorgeous.

  “Oh, I’ll give it to you hard.”

  He pushes himself into me—it’s tight going in—and the pressure builds as he throws one of my legs over his shoulder, plunging deeper into my entrance.

  “Oh, Jaxon,” I moan, tossing back my head as he thrusts into me.

  “I’m not even halfway in your pretty little pussy,” he says, raising his eyebrow as he continues to fill me with his rod.

  “It won’t fit.”

  “Oh, honey,” he tells me. “It’ll fit. It has before.”

  “But this position?” I gasp. “I don’t think I can take it.”

  “You’ll take it, and when you do you’ll come like a fucking fountain,” he says, pulling my ass closer to his cock, his hands pawing at my flesh, as if I’m his to devour.

  I want him to take all of me, like a beast, like a bear. I want this wild man to fill me with his seed like he did before. He’s so powerful he put three babies in me. I want anything his cock is offering up.

  He keeps pounding me, and the walls of my pussy pound, too—more like throb. I’m pulsing in pleasure as he fills me so nice and deep, sawing in and out, in and out, until every pressure point within me is on fire.

  “Oh, Jaxon, it’s so ... oh, God, it feels so good, so good,” I moan, gripping his forearms as I climax. The orgasm ripples through me—a chill is sent over my skin, my entire body on fire and alive and hot and cold and everything. I feel everything. Everything good and pure and right.

  And maybe I’m a hypocrite. Praying to God when I need him, and then taking his name in vain as Jaxon takes me, but oh, my heart, nothing feels as holy as Jaxon pressed deep inside me.