Page 6 of Praised By the Lumberjack

Flint

IwatchHazeltrembleas the aftershocks of her orgasm ripple through her body. Her chest rises and falls with each ragged breath, her red curls wild around her flushed face. Something inside me shifts as I look at her—something deeper than just physical attraction.

"You okay?" I ask, straightening up and brushing the sawdust from my knees.

She nods, a shy smile playing on her lips. "More than okay."

I help her pull her jeans back up, my fingers lingering on her hips. I can't stop touching her, can't stop wanting to be close to her. It's like she's a magnet, and I'm helplessly drawn to her.

"Stay a while?" I ask, surprising myself with the question. Usually, I'm not one for the after-talk, preferring to keep things simple. But with Hazel, I want more than just the physical connection. I want to know her—really know her.

"I'd like that," she says, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. That little gesture is quickly becoming my favorite thing about her.

I lead her to the small break room in the back of Timber! It's nothing fancy—just a worn couch, a mini-fridge, and a coffee maker that's seen better days. But it's private, and right now, that's all that matters.

"Water?" I offer, pulling a bottle from the fridge.

"Please," she says, taking it gratefully. Our fingers brush during the exchange, and even that small touch sends electricity through me.

She settles onto the couch, and I sit beside her, close enough to feel her warmth but still giving her space. The silence between us is comfortable, not awkward, as we both catch our breath and process what just happened.

"So," I finally say, turning to face her. I need to think of something to talk about to keep my mind off my aching cock that I’ve been too much of a gentleman to mention. "What brought you to Timber! that first night? You don't exactly strike me as the axe-throwing type."

Hazel laughs, the sound light and musical. "I was supposed to be on a date. The guy stood me up."

"His loss, my gain," I say without thinking, and she blushes again.

"What about you?" she asks. "How does one become an axe-throwing coach?"

I lean back against the couch, crossing my arms over my chest. "I used to be a logger up north. My dad, his dad—we're a family of tree men. But I wanted something different, something that didn't involve being away from home for months at a time. Found this place, discovered I had a knack for teaching, and the rest is history."

She listens intently, her blue eyes never leaving my face. It's rare to find someone who truly listens these days, but Hazel does.

"You miss it? The logging?"

"Sometimes," I admit. "The smell of fresh-cut pine, the quiet of the forest at dawn. But this is better—meeting interesting people, teaching them something new. Meeting you."

Her cheeks flush again, and I can't help but reach out, tracing the line of her jaw with my thumb. Her skin is so soft, so warm beneath my touch.

"I like you, Hazel," I say, my voice low and rough. "And not just because of what just happened. There's something about you that pulls me in."

She leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "I like you too, Flint. More than I probably should after knowing you for such a short time."

I smile, drawing her closer. "Time's just a number. Some connections don't need weeks or months to form."

"Is that what this is? A connection?" she asks, her eyes searching mine.

My answer is to kiss her, slow and deep, savoring the taste of her. She melts into me, her body soft and yielding against mine. I pull her onto my lap, her thighs straddling mine, bringing us face to face.

"Definitely a connection," I murmur against her lips.

Her hands find their way under my shirt, exploring the planes of my chest, tracing the muscles of my abdomen. I groan as her fingers brush against my nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my cock.

"You're driving me crazy, you know that?" I say, my voice strained.

She smiles, a newfound confidence in her eyes. "Good. That's exactly what I want to do."

I pull her shirt over her head, revealing a lacy blue bra that perfectly cradles her full breasts. My I draw her closer to me, savoring the warmth of her body against mine. The break room at Timber! feels like our own private sanctuary as I hold Hazel in my arms, our hearts still racing from the intensity of our connection.

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