Page 12 of Craved By the Lumberjack

“I figured you’ve been working hard,” I said. “You probably need a break.”

She stood up and took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “You can say that again. The gift shop needed twenty bracelets and ten necklaces for the upcoming rush.”

Ski season was about to begin, and the whole town was gearing up for things to get crazier than usual. The town was busy year-round, but it was slammed in the winter months.

Delta headed to the kitchen for some paper plates. I set the bag of food in the center of the table and followed her, grabbing forks and napkins.

“Remember our TV tray days?” I asked with a laugh as we settled into our seats.

“Yeah, those days are long gone,” she said. “I kind of like family time, although I do miss our days of having sex on the couch.”

“We make good use of the bathroom counter,” I reminded her.

“How could I forget? Plus the shower.”

“And the passenger seat of the SUV,” I added.

Last week, Delta brought me lunch and we took a drive up the mountain, found a scenic spot, and had a little dessert after finishing our sandwiches. I started to get worked up just remembering it.

And that was the truth. I needed to think about something else. The last thing I wanted was to show back up at work with a boner.

“You know,” she said as she unwrapped her second taco. I was already midway through my second. “We should be able to finish these tacos pretty quickly. How long do you have before you need to be back at work?”

I glanced at the clock. “Twenty minutes. But I told them I might be a little late getting back.”

Her eyebrows arched as she looked at me. Yeah, she knew I had something extra in mind. My wife knew me better than anyone, and she loved me more than I ever thought it was possible to be loved. The feeling was mutual.

“Twenty minutes is plenty of time,” she said. “Just looking at you, I’m ready to go.”

She was giving me those eyes again as she finished off her second taco. I’d bought ten—mostly because that had been the lunchtime deal they offered—but we could keep the remaining six as leftovers.

“Follow me,” she said.

She shoved her chair back with a loud scrape and pulled off her T-shirt as she walked toward the bedroom. I took one look at the mess on the table and vowed to clean it up afterward. Then, I followed my wife to the bedroom.

She was on the bed, struggling to get out of her leggings, pulling them down along with her underwear. That left only her bra—a sports bra that she quickly removed while watching me.

I stood in the doorway, not moving, just admiring my beautiful wife. She was all curves and softness. I could lose myself in her for hours.

I didn’t want to wait any longer. I had to go get my woman.

I crossed the room, removing my shirt as I approached the bed. I stood next to it as I took off the rest of my clothes, only climbing on top of her once I was naked.

We hadn’t even bothered to pull back the sheets. We’d make love right here on top of them, the door wide open, enjoying having the whole house to ourselves for a change.

“I love you,” I said, looking down at her.

A smile slowly spread over her face. “I love you too. Now, fuck me like you mean it.”

Like I meant it. I always fucked her like I meant it. But we’d been doing a lot of the romantic stuff lately. Maybe that was because we were always trying to be quiet. Today, I’d show her what I’d been fantasizing about doing for the past couple of months.

“Turn over,” I said.

The look of surprise that spread over her face was no surprise to me. I didn’t miss the way her lips twitched like she was fighting a smile. She knew what I was up to, and she liked it.

We both rearranged, with her getting on all fours. It had been a while since we’d done this position—okay, maybe just a couple of months. She liked the way it rubbed her just the right way as I moved in and out of her. It was the only way I could make her come without touching her. Or without her touching herself.

I ran my hands over her ass, then up her back. She let out a sigh. She was still being quiet. It had become a habit over the past few years, ever since Kinsley was born. It didn’t matter—I’d have her screaming by the time I was through.

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