Page 11 of Kissed By The Lumberjack
"Ev," she says, and my name in her mouth is everything I didn't know I wanted.
I close the distance between us.
My hand finds her jaw, tilting her face up. Her skin is soft under my calloused palm. She doesn't pull away. Doesn't push me back. Her eyes are wide, her lips parted.
"Tell me to stop," I say.
"I can't."
I kiss her.
She tastes like mint toothpaste and something sweeter underneath. Her lips are soft against mine, hesitant for half a second before she melts into me. Her hands come up to grip my shirt, pulling me closer. I angle her head, deepening the kiss, and she makes a sound in her throat that goes straight to my cock.
My other hand finds her hip. Pulls her flush against me. She gasps when she feels how hard I am, and I swallow the sound, kissing her deeper. She's warm and willing and everything I shouldn't want.
I back her against the porch post. Her spine hits the wood and she arches into me, her breasts pressing against my chest. I can feel her nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt. My hand slides under the hem, finding bare skin. Hot. Smooth. She shivers.
"We shouldn't," she whispers against my mouth.
"I know."
"This complicates everything."
"I know."
"Ev—"
I kiss her again. Harder this time. My hand travels up her ribs, stops just below her breast. Waiting. Asking without words.
She answers by grabbing my wrist and pressing my palm against her.
Christ.
I cup her breast, feeling the weight of it. Run my thumb over her nipple through the fabric. She moans, her head falling back against the post. I kiss down her jaw, her throat. Bite gently at the spot where her neck meets her shoulder.
"Inside," she breathes. "We should?—"
The crunch of gravel cuts through the night.
Headlights sweep across the drive.
We spring apart like teenagers caught by parents. Rowan stumbles, and I catch her arm, steadying her. Her lips are swollen. Her eyes are dazed. She looks wrecked in the best possible way.
A truck pulls up next to hers. Hank's truck.
He climbs out, flashlight in hand, and spots us on the porch. Squints. "Ev? Everything okay?"
"Fine." My voice comes out rougher than I'd like. "What's wrong?"
"Got a call from the night crew at the processing yard. One of the trucks broke down on the mountain road. They need the backup." He looks between me and Rowan. Takes in her mussed hair. My untucked shirt. Says nothing, because Hank's worked for my family long enough to know when to keep his mouth shut. "I can handle it if you're busy."
"No." I step off the porch, putting distance between me and Rowan. Between me and the mistake I was about to make. "I'll come."
"Ev," Rowan says.
I don't turn around. Can't. If I look at her right now, I'll tell Hank to handle it himself. I'll carry her upstairs and finish whatwe started. And tomorrow, when the sun comes up, we'll both regret it.
"Get some sleep," I say. "We're leaving at six."
I'm in Hank's truck before she can respond. He pulls away, and in the side mirror, I watch her standing alone on the porch. Arms wrapped around herself. Looking smaller than she did five minutes ago.
"Want to talk about it?" Hank asks.
"No."
"Good. 'Cause I wasn't gonna ask anyway."
The truck bounces down the dirt road, and I press my hand against my mouth. I can still taste her.
Six AM is going to be torture.
