Lumberjacked

by Alexandria Hunt

  I could almost see the gears turning in his head as he considered my offer. He took a huge breath, exhaled slowly, and locked his eyes on mine.

  I shivered again and ignored Melanie’s knowing chuckle…again…and willed Aaron to come back to me so we could hammer out a deal and start filming as soon as possible.

  “Sir, you have to move,” a TSA agent told Aaron in a frustrated voice. “You’re holding up the line for others.”

  “Fine,” Aaron said, and he made his way back towards me and I knew I had him.

  My heart was pounding like a million hoof beats in my chest all at once. It was the excitement of having a new show, a sure winner, that was doing it.

  It certainly wasn’t the overwhelming attraction I felt for the burly mountain man picking his way through the lineup of people to stand in front of me and look down with a stern expression on his face.

  “Okay, I’m here, what do you have to say to me?”

  And all at once, I felt my mouth dry up and my throat close, and I couldn’t squeak out a single word.

  4

  AARON

  She was absolutely, utterly gorgeous. Captivating, really, the way her blue eyes lit up as she talked about the show. The way her breasts strained against the fabric of her UCLA tee shirt. They way they heaved as her breath sped up when she realized I was walking away from her and the deal.

  Don’t judge me, I’m a boob guy and I’m a man, she had a perfect set.

  My cock ached as I resigned myself to walking away from Reagan and her luscious body. I managed to keep it from going hard, though, I didn’t want a pat-down at security with a massive hard-on…wouldn’t want TSA to flag me as a pervert.

  Besides, the old dude running the wand up my legs probably wouldn’t appreciate it.

  I had almost walked out of her life forever when she said the magic number. A hundred thousand dollars.

  “Goddammit,” I muttered under my breath, and the TSA agent stiffened up, as if waiting for me to go into full crazy lumberjack mode and hijack a plane or something.

  I decided to grab my things and head back to talk this deal out when a couple more TSA agents sidled towards me, eyeballing me and nodding at the first one. He said something to me about holding up the line, but the way he said it made me nervous. Like he wanted me to react so he could reach for the holster on his belt.

  I wasn’t about to get tasered in the middle of the airport because I was being a stubborn fucker.

  “Fine,” I told the first agent as I put on my jacket, grabbed my pack, and pushed through the line of people waiting to be groped by security.

  I stood in front of the captivating woman who had lured me back, looked her up and down, and demanded to know exactly what was being proposed.

  I suppressed a chuckle when she gulped and stood staring at me with her mouth hanging open. Her friend nudged her and urged, “Tell him, Reagan.”

  She closed her mouth, swallowed again, and widened her eyes as she stared at my chest. “I, uh, well you see, I have a TV show idea that you would be perfect for.”

  “Yes, you told me everything while I was trapped in line for airport security. What do I have to do to get the money?”

  I instantly regretted being so gruff, but that was my go-to persona ninety percent of the time. It came from growing up in a houseful of brothers in the harshest state in the USA.

  She stood up straight, put her shoulders back, and looked me right in the eye. “You have to live in a house with ten beautiful women for one month and choose your favorite.”

  “…That’s it? There’s got to more to it than that. What’s the catch?”

  “The catch is that you’re going to ask one of them to marry you on the final show. Each week, we eliminate one of them. Well, I mean, each week on the show. It goes much faster in real life, of course.”

  “So you’re telling me reality TV isn’t real at all? And here I was watching Survivor all these years hoping to get tips for living in the bush,” I chuckled.

  Her eyes widened, and she pursed her lips in a perfect little, “Oh.” She took half a beat before she caught on that I was teasing her. “You’re joking! Oh god, I thought you were serious.”

  “It’s because he’s so grumpy,” her friend said with a frown. “You could lighten up a little, my friend here is going to make you rich, and all you have to do is hang around a bunch of hot ladies for a month. Most guys would show a little more gratitude.”

  “Gratitude? How much is your friend making off me?” I grumbled, annoyed at being called out on my bad behavior.

  “Not much, actually. I’m mostly doing this because I really think it’s going to be a popular show, and the ratings will get my foot in the door to more projects in the future.”

  “I thought all you Hollywood types were swimming in buckets of money,” I said. “Are you sure you’re doing this just for the experience?”

  “She had a disastrous show just pulled off air,” her friend told me. “She needs this more than you know.”

  “What show was it?” I asked Reagan, who had turned the color of an overripe tomato.

  “Uh,” she mumbled, looking down, her face even redder, if that was possible. “Well, um, it was called Celebrity Pet Bake-Off. It was a disaster.”

  “That was you? I saw that! It blew up the internet, the way that big dog grabbed the little one…I can’t believe they aired that!”

  “They didn’t,” she replied miserably, “Somebody leaked the footage.”

  I chuckled again, it really had been a complete disaster. It was admirable that she had decided to keep going after it became that laughing stock.

  But her face fell, and I immediately regretted laughing. She had probably already suffered enough without me joining in mocking her. I hated seeing such a beautiful woman so upset—she didn’t deserve it.

  “Well, it wasn’t that bad,” I said, lying to her. “I’m sure you’ll put it behind you soon enough.”

  “I will if I can get this show off the ground. Please tell me you’ll do it. It’s such a short time, and the money is good.”

  I looked into her beautiful blue eyes and knew there was no way to tell her anything but yes at that point.

  And it wasn’t even about the money, it was about Reagan, if I was honest with myself. But the last thing I needed in my life was a Hollywood girlfriend hanging off my arm, so I affixed my gruff mask on my face and followed the two women out of the airport.

  * * *

  I woke up with a kink in my back and a foul odor assaulting my nose. “What the hell?”

  I sat up and rubbed my head before I realized where I was. The studio hadn’t okayed my outrageous demands for a hotel with unlimited spending, and Anthony was out of town for a week.

  So I was sleeping on the futon in Reagan’s office. Not exactly the best place to be if I wanted to hold stunning Hollywood girl at arm’s length.

  Although the smell in the room was certainly putting a damper on my morning wood. Whatever dream I’d been having was gone and replaced with something rank.

  I heard a grunt and a little fart, looked over, and pulled back the blanket.

  Nestled inside with a contented look on his face was the ugliest little dog I’d ever seen, Tiger.

  Reagan had introduced us last night when I’d arrived, and I hadn’t realized he had taken such a liking to me. He was kind of cute in that hideous little dog kind of way.

  “You stink, you little monster,” I laughed, rubbing his belly. He wiggled, grunted, and farted again. “Okay, that’s enough. Time to get up!”

  Tiger yipped and jumped down, scrambled to the door, and rushed out when I opened it.

  I peeked up and down the hall. Didn’t see Reagan, so it would be safe to use the bathroom while sporting my regular morning hard-on. I tucked it down, it sprung back up, and I shuffled down the hallway in my PJ pants.

  Just as I almost reached the bathroom door, Reagan came around the corner and ran smack dab into…me. All nine har
d and proud inches of me, standing at attention.

  I was a good foot taller than her petite frame, so I managed to poke her in the stomach and heard her exclaim, “Oh, sorry,” before she realized what had happened.

  Fuck, it was like a jolt of electricity up and down my body. My morning wood twitched as I touched her, and my balls tightened with need.

  For her. Fuck she was beautiful.

  “No apologies needed, I’m sorry. I was just heading to the…”

  My words trailed off, and we both looked down at the same time.

  “Oh,” she said in a breathy tone. “Yes, you need to…”

  I expected her to step to the side, but she hesitated. I hesitated.

  Silence fell between us, thick and heavy…just like the awareness that my cock was pressed against her belly. The desire flooded through me, and she looked up. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her bright blue eyes sparkled with the same desire I felt.

  The moment ended as soon as Tiger waddled back down the hall, that foul odor preceding him and making both of us scrunch up our faces.

  I put my hands on her shoulders, moved her to the side, and took off down the hall like my balls were on fire.

  Fuck. She was stunning.

  How the hell was I supposed to live with ten women and pick my favorite when there was only one I wanted?

  And she was the worst possible match I could think of.

  How could Miss Hollywood ever fit into my world when I knew I was sure as hell never going to fit into hers?

  5

  REAGAN

  “I think you like him,” Melanie said with a cheeky grin as she popped a piece of salmon sashimi into her mouth, her long fingers holding her chopsticks perfectly.

  I’d never really gotten the hang of them, so my sushi roll dropped back into my little bowl of soy sauce with a decidedly inelegant splash. I blew her a little raspberry and hissed, “No, I don’t. I mean, I like him, he’s a super nice guy, but I don’t like like him.”

  Melanie swallowed and narrowed her eyes at me knowingly. “I think you do.” She looked up past me, over my shoulder. “Oh, hey Aaron, did you find the bathroom okay?”

  “Sure did,” he replied, sitting back down at our booth…next to me. Too close, in my opinion. And not because I didn’t like it, but simply because he smelled so amazing, and his muscled arms brushed against me, and the heat of our bodies barely touching drove me so mad I felt like tearing my clothes off right then and there.

  And of course, there was the incident.

  That’s what I was calling it in my head, at least.

  The incident from three mornings ago when Aaron and I had bumped into each other in my narrow hallway, and I’d gotten my first hint of the monster snake he had hiding in his pants.

  And dammit, it turned out I was dying to see more of it. But I was a professional, he was a client, and I was going to make Lumberjacked, work even if I had to superglue my knees together.

  I wasn’t going to sleep with him. I really wasn’t.

  Don’t look at me like that! I had resolve and determination and pluck and all that stuff that meant I was going to keep things at a professional distance.

  Okay, I got that out of the way, now do you believe me?

  Yeah, me neither. I’d do my best though, and you can’t do better than your best, that’s what my dear old dad always said.

  “So what am I supposed to do with this?” Aaron grumbled as he tore open the packaged chopsticks, broke them apart, and held them perfectly in his huge hands.

  “You pick up a piece of the fish, dip it in the soy sauce, and eat it,” Melanie explained with a smile.

  He glanced down at the bowl with my forgotten sushi roll floating around in it, half-falling apart by now, and I blushed. “Shit, sorry, I’ll get that.”

  But my fingers cramped up, and I couldn’t seem to make my chopsticks work. Melanie snickered, and I got more flustered the worse it got.

  “Let me,” Aaron said, and he deftly picked up my roll and held it toward me.

  I peeked up at him and once again fell into his gorgeous green eyes. He watched me with an ever so slight mocking in his eyes as I wrapped my lips around his chopsticks and pulled the roll off.

  I chewed, swallowed, and licked my lips just to see how closely he was paying attention.

  I was rewarded for my action, his mocking expression fled his face and pure, naked desire replaced it.

  “All righty then, why don’t you try feeding yourself this time, Aaron?” Melanie broke in with a snort. “I mean, not that I don’t appreciate the show, but we’ve got to be at the studio in an hour.”

  “Oh yeah,” Aaron said and broke away. “Now what kind is this?”

  “That’s octopus,” Melanie explained, and I settled into the seat to calm my shaking limbs.

  It was bad enough sitting next to him or looking into his gorgeous eyes while he fed me…but doing all that with the image of his massive bulge poking me in my belly three mornings ago made it all seem surreal.

  But I couldn’t let myself go there. I was a professional.

  Maybe if I told myself enough, I would eventually believe it.

  * * *

  “I hate her,” I said as we reviewed the audition tape of a tall, lithe blonde ‘model-slash-actress.’ She really was perfect for the show, but not for Aaron, so I hated her.

  Maybe I meant too perfect. She might be the kind of woman he could fall for, and I didn’t want that to happen.

  “You have to like at least one of them,” Melanie sighed, shoving the girl’s file to the side. “Right, Aaron? I mean, do you like any of them?”

  “They seem nice,” he replied, scanning the folder of the next girl. “This one studied to be a vet, that’s cool.”

  “A vet?” I snorted, “Can’t wait to see her file.”

  And I immediately regretted my words when Melanie hit play on her audition reel. She was stunning, probably a foot taller than me and thirty pounds lighter, all legs and thick, glossy black hair with bright green eyes.

  She was perfect, and I hated her.

  “You know what?” I blurted, standing up quickly, rolling my office chair back hard enough that it hit the wall of the little recording booth we were in. “Why don’t you two pick them, I have to go do some paperwork. Apply for filming permits, travel documents, that kind of thing.”

  Aaron looked startled, and Melanie looked smug.

  The two of them turned back toward the screen where the future Mrs. Remington was expounding the virtues of charity work, and I wanted to stick my finger down my throat in an exaggerated gagging motion.

  I paused to breathe one last breath of Aaron’s heady scent, pushed the door open, and stalked off to simmer in my misery in my office.

  “Get it together,” I whispered to myself as I flopped down at my desk. “You’re being ridiculous, acting like a schoolgirl with her first crush.”

  I focused on filling out the paperwork to film in the small Alaskan town Aaron had chosen, as well as to make sure we could get our entire crew up there. I’d have to go over each girl’s backgrounds after we chose, just to find anything that would mean they couldn’t cross the border through Canada or make sure they weren’t on any ‘no-fly’ lists.

  Part of me hoped there would be a reason to disqualify every single one of them, but then of course, we wouldn’t have a show.

  And damn, I needed this show.

  As if sensing my anxiety, the phone rang just then, and it was my Dad.

  “Hey Dad.”

  “Reagan, how’s the new project coming along?”

  “It’s good, we’re just picking out the contestants now.”

  “Remember to choose the hottest girls,” he said promptly, making my roll my eyes. “They need to look good in a bikini, and there can’t be any surprises when they take their clothes off. We don’t want any tattoos or back flab showing during the make-out scenes.”

  “Make-out scenes?” I almost choked it out.
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br />   “Of course, sex sells. Your bushman is going have to get down and dirty with at least three or four of them. Didn’t you watch The Bachelor?”

  “Uh, I’ve seen a few episodes.”

  “Then you know the formula. You need girls who aren’t going to hold back their jealousy, passionate girls who take one look at your guy and decide they want him…more than they want the screen credit. I want cat fights, girl fights, sabotage, and I want them to do whatever it takes to drag that lucky guy into their bed.”

  “Bed? I thought this was a ‘sex off-camera’ kind of thing. You know the networks.”

  “Networks, schmetworks, you know anything goes these days. The more the merrier, if you can get him hooking up with more than a couple girls before making his final decision, that’s gold, my girl, pure gold.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Listen, don’t shit the bed on this one. You’re a grown-up, you know how this business works. I mean, you’ve been at it since before you could walk. Nobody is going to say Pavel Black’s daughter fucked it up again…you got me?”

  “I do, Dad. But this isn’t about you, this is my career on the line here.”

  “Charles will have me over a barrel if you fuck this up again, sweetheart. You lost the studio a boatload of money with that last disaster…now promise me you’ll do whatever it takes to make this work, or you might as well sign your career’s death warrant this time around and get fitted for a McDonald’s uniform because that’s the only place that will hire you.”

  “I promise,” I replied, my misery reaching new heights of despair as I pictured myself trying to get by on minimum wage working a drive through window.

  “And if you can get him to actually marry one of the girls? Now that will seal your fate with the studio. Manage that, get them to do it on air for a special, and you’ll be taking it all over before you know it.”