Lumberjacked: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 14)

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Lumberjacked: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 14) Page 1

by Flora Ferrari




  LUMBERJACKED

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 14

  FLORA FERRARI

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series

  Lumberjacked

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Sneak Peek: Protector

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2017 by Flora Ferrari.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  Book 1: Baby Lust

  Book 2: Veteran

  Book 3: Built

  Book 4: Bambino

  Book 5: Rescued

  Book 6: Leader

  Book 7: Professor

  Book 8: Burned

  Book 9: Worldly

  Book 10: Pistol

  Book 11: Policed

  Book 12: Driven

  Book 13: Lucky 13

  Book 14: Lumberjacked

  Book 15: Protector

  Book 16: Carpenter

  Book 17: Italian Stallion

  LUMBERJACKED

  Mounting bills and rising tuition costs force me to leave college mid-semester. I need money and I need it fast.

  In my little rinky-dink, not even one traffic light, neighborhood there’s only one game in town. Big Timber Treecutters.

  And its owner, Jack Wood, is my only hope. He's my dad's best friend and he knows how to swing his axe…but he doesn’t hire women, especially not me.

  He’s as rugged and raw as the land he works, and rumor has it he’s got the biggest tool in the forest. And while he’s thinking of ways to get rid of me, all I can think of are ways I want him to split me like wet pine.

  But now he’s got 99 problems and a birch ain’t one, and he needs my help. He says women have tried before but they can’t cut it. But I’m a busy little beaver and won’t take no for an answer.

  And when I tell him about my secret bush that I’m saving for a very special woodsman, I know this is one fir he’s going to mark with his branding ax to show the world just who it belongs to.

  And once he does, he says he’s going to do whatever it takes to prove to me that once you get with this lumberjack, you never go back.

  *Lumberjacked is an insta-everything standalone romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

  Get your FREE extended epilogue of Lumberjacked by signing up to my mailing list. You’ll receive an email as soon as it’s available.

  *If you already signed up, THANK YOU! You will get this and all future freebies automatically.

  Click the link below to get your freebies

  http://tinyletter.com/floraferrari

  CHAPTER 1

  Diane

  I knock three times on the front door.

  No answer.

  “Mister Wood?” I call out. A few seconds pass. “Mister Wood?”

  It’s been years since I’ve been out to his house, but I do remember my dad saying he spends most of his time out back.

  I walk around the side of the house, sticking to the trail. I see an intricate wooden picnic table and some chairs. This man is truly a genius with his hands, and he’s also nowhere to be found.

  I turn my head to the left, catching the sound of someone whistling. I listen closer. Is that Monty Python’s “The Lumberjack Song?” I realize it is and laugh out loud.

  I follow the trail around a pile of firewood and down the hill. The vegetation is dense, and I can’t really make out much in front of me, but I can hear the whistling more clearly.

  I follow the bend at the corner and freeze in my tracks. I take a step back and exhale hard as my hand comes up to my chest.

  Oh my god. Did he see me? I notice he’s still whistling away, and the devil on my shoulder yells in my ear loud and clear, telling me to poke my head around the brush again.

  I know I shouldn’t, but…

  I carefully lean my head around the vegetation and my mouth hits the ground I’m standing on.

  Jack Wood, my dad’s best friend, is standing butt naked in the stream, and it appears he’s…taking a bath?

  If it were any other man my natural reaction would be to laugh, but not with him. My gut is telling me something else entirely, and it’s speaking directly to my lady bits.

  He reaches down and scoops up handfuls of the cold spring water, running them along his arms. I have a perfect profile shot, and I load the imaginary film into my mental camera hoping to stamp this picture in my mind permanently.

  His thighs are big and powerful. His hamstrings are tight and strong, with his delicious derriere sitting right on top of them like two perfectly mounted statues of masculinity.

  His obliques. Oh my word, even his sides have muscles!

  His shoulders look like baby pumpkins, minus the orange color, perfectly round with each muscle clearly defined and separated from the next.

  And his arms. If I had to choose between his bulging biceps and his tremendous trapezoids I’d have to say…both!

  This man’s body asks for no compromise, giving me exactly what I’d want in the perfect man.

  And those forearms. This guy could arm wrestle Popeye, stealing his spinach and his girl before he even knew what hit him.

  My eyes scan up, catching the thickness of his neck…its thickness like one of the stumps after he cuts down a tree.

  He dunks the soap in the stream before lathering it up in both hands. As he starts to straighten back up the momentum causes the soap to slide from his grip. He turns sideways, lunging forward and grabbing it just before the stream claims it for its own.

  And I see exactly what I’ve been dreaming of claiming for my own for the last three years.

  I pull my head back behind the vegetation.

  “Slippery little bugger, aren’t you,” he says.

  I don’t know if he’s talking about me or the soap.

  I reach my hands into the vegetation and slowly move it out of my way…and then I move it some more…and some more, until the hole is finally big enough to see the entirety of his member.

  He lathers up his hands again and quickly cleans the shaft of his dick up and down. He looks over each shoulder and I know what’s coming next.

  If a tree falls in the forest does it make a sound?

  It does if I’m around and that tree is a giant redwood!

  And redwood is right because he’s stroking that sequoia with a fury.

  I can’t let this moment pass me by.

  I follow his lead, taking a quick look over each shou
lder before my hand somehow slides into my jeans, underneath my cotton panties, and right to my folds. I stick my head back around the bush and get a full on view of the action, while I’m giving my pussy a spit shine good enough to win the Medal of Honor.

  He’s beating that thing like it stole something, and I’m doing a pairs figure skating, speed skating combo on my clit with my first two fingers.

  That damn thing called logic kicks in and I know this has gone too far. Just as I’m about to pull back behind the bushes and stop, he starts moaning. Deep, gravelly, bass that would make Barry White sound like a member of the Vienna Boys’ Choir. And now instead of pulling back, I’m leaning even farther forward.

  Fuck it! I’m all in.

  I slide my other hand up my shirt and start twisting my nipple. A few tweaks later and my hand mysteriously slides up through the neck of my shirt and two fingers go straight into my mouth. Screw my last boyfriend who said I inconsistent!

  They say noise travels faster across the water, and it’s proven right when he shouts, “Uhhh,” as I watch him erupt into the air, his cum landing on top of the stream.

  Guess the salmon in these parts aren’t going hungry this year…what a load!

  I’m at my limit and I shove my two fingers inside as my pussy as my mouth opens wide. My head shakes and shutters forward like a baby bird reaching for food from its mother as I feel a typhoon unleash on my hand.

  “Ruff!”

  Five feet in front of me stands a huge German Shepherd barking right at me.

  I’m scared shitless and look up just in time to make eye contact with Jack, whose eyes are now practically popping out of his head at the sight of me.

  I try to scramble backwards, but my feet get caught up and I wind up falling flat on my face.

  CHAPTER 2

  Jack

  I reach for my towel, and remember I didn’t bring one.

  I reach for my junk, and realize two hands aren’t enough to do the job.

  I turn around and start walking backwards out of the stream, trying not to trip.

  I get to the bank, and my worst nightmare is confirmed as quickly as my biggest fantasy. The very woman I was stroking to is standing, or should I say lying, in front of me…and she’s my best friend’s daughter.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I just tripped while I was, uh…um…here on business.”

  “Business? You sure this visit wasn’t more…personal?”

  “Well, you know…business, pleasure…it all goes together these days. No likability, no deal.”

  My head pulled back and I gave her a stink face like she was trying to sell me a bridge in the middle of the Mojave.

  “Is that what they’re teaching you at Berkeley these days?”

  “Actually, that’s what I’m here to talk about.”

  “You want to talk about college?” I said over my shoulder, still facing away.

  “Not exactly,” she said, standing and dusting herself off.

  “Why did you come here?”

  “Well, I was looking through the paper this morning and I saw a help wanted ad in the classifieds. I didn’t think much about it until I saw the Big Timber Treecutters logo.”

  “I don’t see the relevance here,” I said, noticing her attempts to keep her eyes even with mine, and not on my ass, were failing.

  “You’re looking to hire someone, and I’m looking work.”

  “You’re looking for work?”

  “Yeah. Coincidence, huh?”

  “Well, I’m looking for some clothes, and as you may have noticed I haven’t exactly been too successful in that endeavor.”

  “Oh, sorry,” she said. “Want me to get you something from the house?”

  Part of me still wondered what in the hell she was up to. A second part knew there was no way in hell I was going to have her out in the middle of the forest with a chainsaw bigger than she was. And a third part of me was still thinking about that fantasy I was just having about her and how close I was to experiencing the real thing right now judging by her nervousness, wandering eyes, and proximity.

  “No, we can walk up together.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  “But why don’t you stay a few steps in front of me.”

  “Right.”

  “And probably best not to turn around.”

  “Of course,” she said, still staring at me.

  “Anytime you’re ready,” I said.

  “Sorry, I’m still a little out of it…from the tumble I took.”

  “We can get you bandaged up, up at the house.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So you’re looking for a job?” I began, as she walked in front of me.

  “Yeah.”

  “Aren’t you still in college?”

  She said something I couldn’t hear.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I just need to take care of some things.”

  What was she talking about. Then I got it. “No, I meant ‘what’ like I can’t hear you. Not like I can’t believe what you were saying.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I can…turn around if you like. Maybe half way.”

  “Or you can speak louder.”

  “I guess I could do that too.”

  “Probably best that way.”

  She began speaking, but I was having a hell of a time concentrating. Strangely enough it wasn’t because I was walking butt naked through the forest with my best friend’s daughter and my dog. That part was actually the most normal thing to me.

  I was completely at home in the forest, and although I wasn’t a hippie of any sort, I was a naturist-cusp. Not quite a naturist, or nudist as they used to be known, but not too far off. Of course in this circumstance, it wasn’t the best to let her see for herself whether I was circumcised or not.

  I had a perfect view of her juicy ass as we walked up the hill. The way those jeans hugged her curves and how the incline put her apple bottom right in my face…so close I was ready to bite that forbidden fruit like Adam.

  As we continued to walk, the only things that were on my mind were watching her, and trying to flash back to how hot she looked when I caught her with her hand down her pants. What she was doing with that other hand I had no idea, but the good news is whatever it was had the freak bells going off in my mind…in the good kind of way.

  A few minutes later and we were in my backyard. I asked her to wait while I got dressed. Another couple minutes later I invited her in.

  “Coffee,” I said.

  “That will be great.”

  I put the water on boil and joined her in the living room of my cabin.

  “I really like your place,” she said. “It’s been so long since I was here.”

  “Thanks. I spruced it up a bit, but now I’m wishing I would have put that money into the business.”

  “That’s what I’m here for. I think I can help.”

  “With my business? You know I don’t hire women. I’d never put a woman out there in harm’s way. It’s against everything I stand for.” I left out the part that I wouldn’t want the other guys looking at her like a fresh piece of meat.

  “But you know I can handle it.”

  “Diane, I know the world’s all politically correct these days and I’m all for that and girl power and everything that goes with it, but some things are better left to a man.”

  “But Mister Wood, you know I can handle a chain saw.”

  Sexier words were never spoken, and especially not by sexier lips. The awkwardness of our initial meeting had faded, and now here we were…face to face in my living room. I did the mental math and realized it had been three years now since I’d seen her. Not since her high school graduation before she took off to take on the world at Berkeley. I thought of that day every day since.

  But high school graduation was a long time ago. Back then she wore braces, and dressed in oversized sweaters and loose jeans. What a difference a few years makes.

  “One second,” I s
aid as I heard the water boiling. “Creamer and sugar?”

  “Two of each. Thanks.”

  I came back in and sat her cup down on the table, which I had built a few years earlier.

  “It’s still hot. Might want to let it sit for a minute.”

 

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