TIMBER: The Bad Boy's Baby (4 page)

I
thought
we would fuck all night.

But after I offer Jaxon my virginity, we kiss until I can't stay awake any longer. He tenderly pulls a blanket over me, lying me back down on the bearskin rug.

I fall asleep next to the fire, warmth trailing my skin, on every surface Jaxon touched.

I'm exhausted, but also wondering how in the world this will be enough.

How will I walk away from Jaxon in the morning when he still hasn't nuzzled his bearded face in my pussy, hasn't licked me like he said he would?

When I haven't had him enter my body in ways I can only now image. From behind. With me on top. Against a wall. In a shower. My mind dances with the no longer forbidden ideas of what sex might feel like in those places.

I don't know how one time with him will be enough.

I fall asleep, his dog Jameson curled up near me. I hear Jaxon step up the ladder to the loft, and I fall asleep.

A
dog is barking
. Someone pounds on a door. Someone runs across the hardwood floor.

I open my eyes. The blanket is kicked off of me, and I am naked before a dying fire. But with one blink of an eye, I remember last night, and warmth floods my skin.

“What the fuck?” Jaxon yells as he races for the door, swings it open.

I roll over to see what the hassle is, reaching for the blanket to cover me. Wishing I’d had time to move before Jaxon swung open the door.

Standing in the snow is the last person I expected—or wanted--to see.

Oh my gosh. I drop behind the coffee table, but I'm no fool. There is no hiding in this one-room cabin.

“Is there a young woman here?” Luke
, my ex-fiancé,
asks before scanning the space. When he does, his eyes land on me. His entire face changes. In a flash, he is red with rage. “Harper? What in tarnation are you doing here, like this?” he bellows.

I swallow, the taste of Jaxon still on my lips.

“I got lost….” I say, knowing how foolish that sounds. Shame ripples through me, knowing that this is going to get ugly, knowing I’m ruined.

I've been caught naked in a bad boy's house.

I
watch as this man
, this fucking stranger, looks at Harper with absolute disgust. His lips are twisted into a snarl as he forces his way through my front door.

Like hell he is.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, man? Step off!” I push him back. No way in hell is he gonna get close to Harper with eyes full of rage.

“Did you defile her?” the man asks, his words seething.

“Defile?” I snort. “What year you living in? Last time I checked, a woman has the right to her own body. And I sure as hell don’t need you storming into my home accusing me of anything.”

Pushing him back out in the cold, I turn to Harper. The blanket I dropped over her as she fell asleep last night is wrapped around her; the innocent doe now looks like a deer in the headlights.

“You know this guy?”

Harper is curled in a ball on the floor, her face streaked with tears. She’s shaking, and I need to understand what this stranger has done to upset her.

“His name is Luke,” she says, and while her eyes are filled with tears, her voice is parched, as if the well of her heart has run dry. “He’s my ex-fiancé.”

Whatever words she says next I can’t understand because she bursts into tears, hysterical about something I can’t take in.

I turn to Luke, who’s in a rage on my steps. He’s a clean-cut, khakis kind of guy, like a vacuum salesman or some shit. Out here in the frigid cold, he’s shivering in his fucking boots like a motherfucking pussy.

“Her family is worried sick,” Luke says, raising his hands in anger. “She left yesterday and never called.”

He shakes his head, runs his hands through his hair, the anger mounting—and I don’t fucking need to deal with this bullshit.

“They should have never let her come on her own. What have you done to her?” Luke yells at me, like I forced Harper onto my solid wood. Like I told her to fuck me, begged to pop her motherfucking cherry.

“
Done
to her? She was the one on her knees sucking me off. You think I forced her?”

“Ohmigosh … stop, Jaxon … just stop.” Harper is hyperventilating, her whole body near collapse.

I can’t stand to see her this way.

“Harper,” I say, kneeling beside her, holding her arms, trying to steady her. Luke is still screaming, but keeps his distance; he’s still on my front steps. He’s probably too scared to come in here like a real man.

“I have to go,” Harper says, pushing away from my hold, standing. “I’ve ruined everything.”

“Ruined what?” I ask, standing too. I take hold of her hand, not understanding, not wanting her to go before I do.

“I told you, my father is a preacher. Luke will tell him what he’s seen, what you just said … and they’ll never see me the same way again. No man will ever want me now.”

I laugh in her face, knowing that sure, she was an innocent girl walking in here last night, but really? She’s scared that her dad is gonna find out she lost her V-card? She’s a grown-ass woman.

“Don’t laugh at things you don’t understand, Jaxon.” She bites back anything else she might say, and instead scans the room for her discarded clothing. She grabs her pants, the sweater. Her bra. I find her panties lying near the bearskin rug and hand them over as discreetly as possible.

I may like to fuck strangers, but I’m not a monster. The last thing I want is for a one-night stand to turn into a fucking fight.

As much as I wanted Harper again this morning, as much as I went to bed last night imagining all the ways I was going to fuck her silly today, I don’t want to keep her here against her will.

I just need to get a better read on the pansy-ass at my front door. I need to make sure Harper wants to go with him.

Her face flushed with embarrassment, she mumbles, “I’m going to the bathroom to change, okay?” She looks up at Luke, shame washed over her once perfectly angelic face. It’s as if she’s seen a ghost.

“Harper, did you really fornicate with this … this … animal?” Luke asks, as she walks away toward the bathroom.

Harper whispers to me as she moves to close the bathroom door. “Can you make him go? Tell him I’m coming, but I can’t have him see me this way.”

I nod. “You really want to go with the guy who walked out on your engagement? You feel safe with him?”

“I don’t want my father coming up here, looking for you, Jaxon,” she says quietly, pulling the door nearly closed. “Luke is gonna tell him what he saw here. I don’t want you in my mess. I’m a big girl. I can pick up the pieces of my own life.”

“You sure, Harp? I can’t have you going with a man I can’t trust.”

“Luke is harmless. Obviously, he doesn’t love me, but he isn’t going to hurt me—like, in ways besides breaking my heart.”

Tears fill her eyes again and she shuts the door.

I exhale. Fuck. This is not how I intended this morning to go.

“You’re a sinner,” Luke spouts off from the front porch. “And you’ve brought Harper into your debauchery,”

I’m a little relieved he isn’t the sort of bible-thumper who calls unwed women names for having sex. Still, his words turn the cabin air stale.

Fine, blame me.

Heaven knows I have plenty to atone for.

“I think you should go,” I tell Luke, grabbing my flannel shirt that I draped over the couch last night. I managed to pull on a pair of jeans before I crawled down the fucking ladder, but I kinda wish I hadn’t. If my cock were hanging out for him to see, he’d know what a threat I am.

I know, it’s bullshit, to think that way, but man, this asshole has me riled up in a way I never am. It’s not like I want Harper for longer than a night—I was overdue for a good fuck and she came in from the cold.

But my friend Buck was right: I’ve been out here all alone for long enough.

Maybe setting up some sort of weekly fucking is in order. Is that a thing? House calls to lonely lumberjacks?

Fuck. I’m losing my shit. I need to get this guy the hell away, so Harper can calm down before she goes back home with this loser.

“You need to get off my motherfucking steps,” I tell him. “Now.”

“Not unless I have Harper,” he says, straightening his shoulders, as if sizing me up.

I laugh in his fucking face. He stands no chance with me. I’m easily twice his size, my muscles ripped from the fact that I’ve been felling trees for three months straight with my own goddamned hands.

“I’m not fighting you for her,” I say. “If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t. I got what I wanted as far as she’s concerned. And I’m not concerned about you at all. I just need you to back the fuck off.”

“But Harp—” he tries.

I raise my hand to stop him. “Harper is getting dressed. You best get her things from her car and go.” I grab her car keys from the hook by the door and toss them his way. He misses and they fall in the fucking snow. “And you’re gonna need to get a tow truck up here for the hatchback. No way is that thing gonna make it down anytime soon. It’s supposed to keep snowing for weeks.”

Luke grabs for the keys awkwardly from the snow, and nods as he turns away.

“Tell her I’ll be back in an hour. I’ve gotta haul whatever she packed into my car, and I hiked up to your place a good distance—couldn’t drive this far up the mountain. I came here because your place is the only house for miles. I never thought I’d find this.” His jaw is tight, and his fists are, too. But he walks away.

Good.

I bolt the door shut.

I know he hates me for taking what he once saw as his—Harper’s innocence—but I can’t worry about that. Luke’s feelings, or Harper’s apparently crazy-ass parents, don’t matter.

Right now I only care about Harper.

I don’t fuck virgins just to have them fall apart the next morning. I need to make sure that doe-eyed girl is okay.

The bathroom smells of pinewood and soap and, while it’s tiny, it has everything it needs. A single-stall shower, an efficient sink, open shelving revealing his brand of deodorant and mouthwash. Both organic. I smile. Jaxon isn’t so rough and tumble, he’s more than the bad boy he presents himself as.

I wonder what other things I’d learn about him if I didn’t have to leave.

I use a washcloth and try to clean myself up with the hot water and soap, trying to push out the conversation Jaxon and Luke are having a few feet away.

It’s strange—I thought I’d feel dirty, waking up naked in Jaxon’s cabin. And of course I’m blocking out the stuff with Luke finding me naked, and my father finding out soon enough—that stuff has to wait until I can think it through.

Right now I’m just realizing that I don’t feel dirty at all.

I feel amazing. I feel awake.

I feel … like one night was not enough.

I close my eyes, forcing myself not to cry.

Why is life so complicated? It’s like, I want the thing I shouldn’t have. Want it so bad it hurts. And last night I gave away the thing I shouldn’t have offered … and if I’d woken up full of remorse, well, that would make things easy. I’d repent. Beg for forgiveness. Walk away and never look back.

But that isn’t what happened when I saw Luke out there in the cold. Nothing about him appeals to me in a way that makes me feel alive. Luke and my family and our church are full of good, wonderful things.

But nothing like the wonderful way I felt last night when Jaxon was inside me.

Nothing like the wonderful way I felt when his cock was in my mouth.

Those things made me feel alive.

What does that say about me? I don’t think I want to know.

I shake my head. This has to stop. This whatever is going on here, my quarter-life-crisis or whatever, is not gonna fly. Even if I wanted to, I can’t have Jaxon again. My home, my family, my life, is in Coeur d’Alene.

Not in the woods. Not with Jaxon. He wasn’t looking for a relationship last night; he was looking for the same thing as me.

A night full of passion—but passion with time constraints. Meaning, I should leave him be, let him get back to his beautifully tattooed, bearded-face, chiseled-abs life. Let him return to cutting down trees and brewing his own beer or whatever else a lumberjack does all day.

No way will my uncle let me stay at his cabin once he finds out what I did last night. I have to face the facts.

The South is not the only Bible-belt. My family is conservative; I’ll be an example to my younger siblings.

I brush another tear from my cheek, still undressed. I need to hustle.

A knock on the bathroom door startles me. I’m still naked, but undone in other ways, too.

“Harp, you okay?” Jaxon asks.

“Is Luke there?” I ask.

“No.” There’s a pause. “Can I come in? We need to talk.”

“I’m not dressed.”

“Good.”

My breath catches. Is this what I want? Jaxon to see me again … take me again?

The answer is obvious. It wasn’t even a question, was it?

“I need to know if Luke is gone,” I say, my hand on the doorknob, already filled with hope that Luke has left.

“He’ll be back in an hour. He went to get your stuff, but he’s parked quite a ways back. Guess the roads are bad for a few miles.”

“We have an hour?” I ask, swallowing. I look at myself in the mirror, noticing the curve of my hips, the way my waist narrows, the way my large breasts hit my skin, they hang so largely on my small frame.

I’ve never seen myself as a sexual being; wearing modest clothing and covering myself is a requirement in my household, and I’ve never questioned it.

But as I look at myself in the mirror—trying on the identity of no longer being a virgin, the one thing I’ve idolized for so long—I like what I see. Who I am.

I run my hand through my hair, trying to straighten it. It’s no use. I let go and the long tendrils fall around my shoulders, fall in front of chest, my nipples poking out between the strands.

“Harper, you sure you’re okay? I can’t have the girl I took last night crying in my bathroom the next morning. It kinda kills my confidence.”

“I’m okay, Jaxon.” I open the door and step into him.

His hands rest on the doorframe, his open shirt baring a ripped stomach covered in black ink, in that criss-crosses his body, telling a story I will never have the privilege to know.

He reaches his arms around me, my bare skin pressing against him. He squeezes me tightly, not sexually … even though that is what I’m gunning for.

“You sure you’re alright?” Jaxon asks, his chin resting on the top of my head. I smile, liking the way I fit against him. “That was all a little intense out there with Luke.”

“Luke isn’t mean. He just didn’t want to marry me. He said God told him we weren’t right for one another. How could I argue with that?”

Jax snorts.

“Right, how can you fucking argue with God?” he asks.

Jaxon doesn’t understand the weight of God’s will in the place I was raised, by the people who raised me—my church family. God, to them—I mean
us
—is everything.

That’s why after Luke broke things off, I kept moving forward. Sure, I needed to give myself space to heal—that’s why I came to the woods in the first place. But I knew the breakup was okay if it was what God wanted. I know I can get through it.

Okay, and it also relieved me in ways I don’t know how to quite admit.

I was never in love with Luke, and I doubt he ever truly loved me. If he did, he wouldn’t have broken things off a few days ago.

“You want to go back with him?” Jaxon asks, pulling away so he can look in my eyes.

I must have been so overwhelmed last night with lust, because I never noticed the beautiful brown flecks filling Jaxon’s irises. His eyes feel safe, and even though he plays it tough, I know he isn’t only tough edges. There’s a hidden softness to him, a softness I want. Now.

“I don’t want to, but I need to,” I say earnestly.

“Ever think of doing what you want?”

I smile softly. “Yeah.” Shaking my head, I look to the floor. “But what I want doesn’t seem very realistic at the moment.”

“Take what you want, Harper. If even for a moment. Give yourself that.”

“Is that easy for you?” I ask him. “To take what you want? Because it’s never even been a option for me.”