Rescued by the Woodsman

by Parker, M. S.

  “Don’t apologize to me. You love us, and I know that. But if you want to apologize, then apologize to yourself. You’re the one holding back on yourself.” She gave my hand a squeeze. “Baby…what do you want?”

  I gave her a puzzled look.

  “Maybe I made a mistake, giving you advice about this man.” Then she scowled. “Of course, him being engaged…”

  “That’s over.”

  “I know you said they ended it.”

  Nodding, I looked away.

  “Is he what you want?” Eyes narrowed, she pushed on. “And do you want him because of who he is or because he loved your sister?”

  “He never loved her,” I said automatically. Realizing my mom wouldn’t understand unless I explained, I quickly told her about the fake pregnancy in as few details as possible.

  Mom's eyes widened, then narrowed again. Anger twisted her features as she signed, “That girl. I swear, I never knew a girl who needed a mother as bad as she.”

  “She has one,” I said.

  “No.” Still looking disgruntled, Mom said, “She has a creator who self-indulgently shaped her into a mirror image of herself, never giving her limits, structure, or discipline. Paisley has no idea what a real mother is – or a father for that matter. Kendrick screwed up with all of his kids.”

  For the first time in my life, I realized that my half-sisters might not have had the fairytale relationship with our father that I always thought they had.

  With a shake of her head, she continued, “I have to say this. It sounds like this Jal is a decent enough boy.” After a few more moments of quiet, she went on, “Allie, do you want him for the right reasons?”

  Heart aching, I looked away for a long moment, and then turned back to her. I couldn't lie anymore.

  “Yes.”

  She smiled. “Then go get him.”

  9

  Jal

  The past week had been one fucking insane roller coaster, and the last few days had been all downhill.

  I was dragging so close to the ground, it was pathetic. As impossible as it seemed, I'd discovered an all new level of low. I'd thought that what happened with Paisley was as bad as things could get.

  I was wrong.

  And this time, I had no one but myself to blame.

  You know, baby, you suck cock better than any woman I’ve ever been with.

  “Shit, you might as well have told her you kept a little black book with notes about each of your scores,” I muttered as I moved over to the window and stared outside.

  It was finally warmer, the temperature hovering in the mid-fifties, and the sun was shining, but my mood was so sour, I almost wished a thunderstorm would blow in. That would suit me a lot better than the sun that glinted off all the high-rises.

  I had an appointment with some investors, and I needed to be thinking about an upcoming trip to New York, but instead, I was brooding over Allie and trying to figure out where to go from here, how to fix things with her. How to make things right.

  Leaning forward, I braced my forehead against the glass. It was treated so the sun’s rays hadn’t warmed it at all. The cool surface felt good against my pounding head. I hadn’t slept worth shit since Allie had left, tossing and turning as I tried to think of how to approach her.

  I just didn’t know what to say.

  Yet I knew the longer I waited, the harder things would get. Sorry wasn't going to cut it.

  I was deep into the darkness of my thoughts when the knock came. I ignored it. I rarely brooded. I was just too lazy to waste time on it. But sometimes circumstances called for it, and this was one of those times.

  I was justifiably surly, in my opinion, when Mrs. Beck knocked again, then finally came inside. “I don’t want to be disturbed,” I said, struggling to keep my voice polite. She hadn't done anything wrong.

  She sniffed, clearly disapproving of my behavior. “I’m aware. However, you have a guest. There’s a young woman here to see you. She says it’s important, and that she’ll wait all day if she must.”

  Without thinking, I snapped, “Didn't I say Paisley wasn’t allowed on the premises anymore? What does it take for people to understand a simple fucking message?”

  “Mr. Lindstrom!”

  The sharp edge in her voice cut through the haze in my head, and I turned, guilt immediately flooding me.

  She narrowed her eyes at me, giving me the kind of look I’d rarely ever seen from her. It was the look a mom gave a kid when they’d stepped over the line. And Mrs. Beck, for all intents and purposes, was probably the closest thing I had to an actual mom when it came to setting me straight.

  “I am well aware of what you said about Ms. Hedges. And, while I may technically be your employee, you will not talk to me that way.” Her voice was stern. “I will give your father a call if I have to.”

  Shit. While I knew my father would be on my side when it came to what my mother and the Hedges had done to me, he'd have my ass for taking it out on Mrs. Beck. My father was easy-going about most things, but when something struck him as wrong, he was adamant about it.

  “I'm sorry, Mrs. Beck. I shouldn't take any of this out on you. It was wrong of me to snap at you.”

  “Apology accepted.” She looked satisfied and moved on. “Now, the young lady isn’t Paisley. She's–”

  “I don’t want to see anybody just yet,” I said, cutting her off as politely as possible.

  The door was pushed open. “How about I just come in and handle this?”

  That voice hit me like a fist to the heart.

  Mrs. Beck looked almost as surprised as I was. Nobody ever breached what she considered her territory without her say-so, but Allie came strolling in without so much as batting an eyelash.

  It took the older woman a few moments to find her voice. “Miss, you cannot–”

  “It’s okay, Mrs. Beck,” I said.

  I wanted to stare at Allie and ignore Mrs. Beck, but I forced myself to look at my assistant and nod. “It’s fine. It’s all fine. Why don’t you take an early lunch?”

  “Sir, it’s nine-thirty.”

  “That’s fine.” Reaching into my desk, I fished out my wallet. I had a gold card in there I kept specifically for business related expenses. I held it out to her. “Your anniversary with the company is coming up. Go buy yourself a nice anniversary gift. The sky's the limit. Then take a nice long lunch. It’s on me.”

  Allie hadn't spoken again, clearly waiting for Mrs. Beck and me to work out what we were doing. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She looked like a rock star. She wore a fitted black top with the shoulders and elbows cut out, so her smooth, dusky skin peeked through. More skin was revealed by the jeans, slashed strategically to reveal the flesh underneath.

  My stomach clenched.

  Her hair was tousled, spilling down to her shoulders. She wore make-up around her eyes, making them so smoky and mysterious, I thought I’d get lost in them. Her mouth was a rich, wine red, and I was suddenly dying of thirst.

  Vaguely, I realized Mrs. Beck was still standing there watching us. Flushing, I looked at her. A strange smile curved her lips, and she nodded at me. “You know, Mr. Lindstrom, I think I'm quite famished. I believe I'll go have that early lunch after all.” She started for the door but right before she reached it, she looked back at me. “I’ll let the front desk know that you’re unavailable for the remainder of the morning and that they'll need to check with me before allowing anyone else in.” She didn’t bother to wait for an answer as she glanced at Allie. “Have a nice day, miss.”

  After locking the door, she pulled it shut behind her. The sound of the lock echoed in the room, and suddenly, all the tension was bearing down on me.

  Rising up from behind the desk, I placed my hands on its smooth surface and met Allie’s eyes. “I was going to call you this evening.”

  I hadn’t made any definitive plans exactly, but I'd known that I needed to talk to her, to make things right. I was just still trying to figure out what to
say. Relationships consisting of more than just sex weren’t my thing.

  “Is that right?” Allie gave me an insolent smile and started forward, hips swinging lazily with each stride. She was pure sex, and my hands itched to pull her up against me. Not yet, I thought. Not yet. She'd come to me. She was in charge right now. I would follow her lead if it meant we could work things out.

  Clearing my throat, I tried again. “Yeah. I…uh…look, I needed to talk to you about…um…things. Specifically…”

  Shit. This really sucked.

  “Things like how I suck good cock?” Her smile didn't reach her eyes. Actually, there was nothing in her eyes at the moment. They were guarded, masked. “How I’m better at it than any other woman you’ve been with.”

  She circled around the desk and nudged me until I fell back into my chair.

  “Yeah.” I swallowed. “Look. About that–”

  “You know something, Jal?” She bent down, placing her hands on the arms of my chair. Her eyes drifted down to where my cock was straining against my zipper. She leaned in and pressed her lips to my ear. “It might not surprise you, but you’re not the first man who's told me just how skilled my mouth is.”

  An explosion of jealousy and anger went through me. I caught her arms, wanting to demand just how many men would know what it felt like to have her lips around their cock. Was her 'friend' Tao one of them? Had she slept with him? Was she still sleeping with him?

  Questions raced through my mind, one after the other, but she simply stared me down until my anger deflated. I had no right to make demands of her, to feel jealousy toward the other men she'd slept with.

  “Allie, I wanted to–”

  She reached up and placed her finger on my lips. “I’m talking,” she said quietly. Her voice was gentle, but the words were decisive and firm. “Something tells me that your mom is probably quite a bit like Diamond Hedges, and I know how much a parent like that can mess with someone's mind. You probably do relationships about as well as I do. We isolate ourselves. I did it because of my father. He pretty much made it clear that I was second best. Yeah, he loved me in his own way, still does I guess, but he made it clear I wasn’t the important one. I bet you do it so you don’t get pulled into the drama, to avoid conflict with your mother.”

  It hit a little closer to home than I liked. “Allie–”

  She kissed me, hard, rough. Need shot through me, painful in its intensity. She bit my lip, then pulled away before I could grab her.

  “Let me guess…” My voice came out thick and harsh. “You’re talking.”

  “Exactly.” She stared at my mouth and licked her lips. “Here’s the deal, Jal. I like you, a lot. Probably more than like. But what I do know is that I refuse to be another in a long line of women. You’re not going to compare the next woman to me. Because there won’t be a next woman. I’m it, or I’m walking.”

  I stared at her, a little stunned. I’d spent days trying to understand what was going on between us. Days trying to figure out why she had me so twisted up.

  And then, in just a few short words, she summed it up. As it all sank inside me, the knots started to fade.

  There won’t be a next woman. I’m it or I'm walking.

  Fuck me. She was right. It wasn't even a real choice to make. She was it.

  Slowly, I reached up. She took a step back, but I followed, rising to my feet and cupping her face in my hands.

  It was so simple that it wasn't really a surprise that I hadn't realized it before.

  This was why she scared me, why she fascinated me.

  This was the reason for all of it.

  She was everything.

  “For the past month, I’ve only had one woman in my head. You’ve been there even when I didn't want you there.” I dipped my head and brushed my lips across hers. “Sometimes it pisses me off because I can’t think about anybody but you. I can't concentrate, can't work. You’re like my drug.”

  She closed her hands around my wrists. She smiled, and I felt it against my mouth. “That’s one hell of an endorsement, Jal Lindstrom.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m addicted.” I tried for a kiss, but she pulled her head back enough that I couldn't. I shook my head. “I'm addicted, and I don't want a cure. You’re not walking.”

  “What does that mean?” She was pushing me, and I knew she wouldn’t stop until she got the truth.

  “You’re it for me, Allie.” I met her eyes. “I think I knew it almost from the beginning.”

  I bent my head to kiss her, but she backed away, releasing my hands as a mysterious smile curved her lips. She pushed me back into the chair, and I let her do it. “Do you always have to be in control?”

  I didn’t pretend not to understand her question. “I’m not a hardcore Dom. Sex doesn’t always have to be BDSM for me.”

  “Now Jal…that wasn’t what I asked.” She gave me a sly grin. “Do you always have to be in control?”

  Instinct demanded I say yes, then tell her to get naked and bend over. But if I'd learned anything over the last couple days, it was that, sometimes, I needed to think before I spoke, and to think about what she needed rather than what I wanted. So I shook my head and waited to see what she was up to.

  She reached up and fiddled with something at the neckline of her shirt. A moment later, it fell away.

  I felt like my brain was about to explode.

  The shirt must've had some sort of built-in support because she wasn't wearing a bra, which meant she now stood in front of me half-naked. Lazily, as if it had just occurred to her, she glanced at the windows. “Are they treated or can people see through?”

  “If I said people could see right through, what would you do? You’re already standing there with those gorgeous tits bared for me.” I put my hand on my crotch, readjusting my rigid cock.

  Allie swept her gaze lower, watching me for a moment before she answered, “True enough. There might be people looking at me right now.”

  Jealousy flared again. She was trying to drive me insane. “There aren’t. The glass is treated. And that's good because I don’t want anybody seeing you like this but me.”

  With that same smug smile, she stripped out of her jeans and panties, then stepped back into her shoes. I hadn't noticed until that moment that they were a pair of sexy black heels. I wanted to take her just like that, her naked, save for those heels. Right up against the glass windows of my office.

  I started to reach for her, but she backed up. The smile on her face said that she wasn't angry, but rather taking control.

  “No touching,” she said, shaking a finger at me.

  Then, as I watched, she took that same finger and dragged it down between her breasts, over her stomach. When it reached the thin layer of dark curls between her legs, I gritted my teeth.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “Damn straight.”

  She leaned forward, her full breasts swaying with the movement. Her nipples slowly hardened into hard points, practically begging me to suck them. Then she went to her knees, and I had to grip the arms of the chair tighter to keep from grabbing her.

  As she put her palms down on my knees, she licked her lips and asked, “What do you want me to do?”

  The question wasn’t exactly what I expected. “Weren’t you the one who wanted to be in control?”

  Allie lifted her shoulder and my gaze dipped to her breasts. “Aren't I already? You’re dying to touch me, to have me touch you. You’re all but shaking with it. And I think I could turn over all that control to you, let you do whatever you wanted – right up until I wanted you to stop. And then you would, wouldn’t you?”

  She was right. No matter what illusions I told myself, she had the power to stop me, which meant she was technically in control, even if she gave it over to me. The fact that the realization didn't fill me with fear said more than anything about just how far gone I was over her.

  “Yes.”

  “So.” She reached forward and trai
led her finger up, then down the fabric of my trousers. “What do you want?”

  Fuck.

  I gave it all to her, my voice raw. “I want your mouth on me. I want to feel your wet pussy gripping me. I want to sink my dick inside your snug ass and feel you break for me. I want everything you have and more. I want you.”

  Her eyes darkened. “Open your trousers and take out your cock.”

  I did, my hands shaking with the intensity of my need.

  “I’m going to suck you off for a while, Jal, and when I’m done, you won’t be able to even think of another woman.”

  Fuck me. The moment she put her lips around the head of my cock, I knew she was right.

  Up and down, wet heat encompassed every inch of my shaft. Fingers and teeth and tongue made my eyes roll back in my head. Minutes stretched out until I wasn't sure how long we'd been there, how long I'd had her mouth on me, teasing me. How long I'd needed relief.

  I was right there – right on the verge.

  Again.

  And then Allie pulled back, squeezing the base of my cock tight, staring at me until the blistering need to come eased back.

  Again.

  “You’re a witch,” I said, panting.

  I’d lost track of how many times she’d done this. I was so ready I could have brought myself to orgasm with a few rough strokes, but that wasn’t what she wanted – that wasn’t what I owed her.

  “And don’t you forget it.” She stood, eyes still on me, as she slid a hand down until she cupped her sex, dipped her fingers between her folds. Desperate, I stared as she teased her clit, then as she slid her finger inside her pussy.

  My dick twitched, remembering what it felt like inside her.

  “Let me do that,” I said. “I can fill you up a lot better.”

  “Yes…you can.”

  But when I started to rise, she shook her head. I sank back, my cock still bobbing in the air, swollen and glistening. My stomach tightened as she moved over me, straddled me.

  She gasped as I pressed up against her, and I groaned at the liquid heat of her pussy kissing the head of my cock. I thrust up, hard and fast, even as she moved down, and then I was buried deep. The sound of her crying out my name was the sweetest damn sound I’d ever heard.