Page 21 of Praise Me: Lumberjack
Penn nods at me, grunts, and goes back to leaning against his tree.
He called me his girlfriend.
I’m lighter than air on my way into my trailer, changing into the next bathing suit, which happens to be a red, high-waisted Dolce & Gabbana two-piece with balcony cups that push my breasts up, making them high and round. The stylist ditches the cowboy boots and puts me in white satin pumps with a dramatic bow on the toe. And I’m trying with all my might to focus on the editorial shoot, but there are hot shivers racing up and down my spine as Penn’s actions sink in more and more. He just knocked out my manager.
He demanded respect for me.
He saw what was making me uncomfortable and eliminated it.
“They want some different glam look to go with this one,” explains the makeup artist. “It’s going to take me half an hour to apply. Do you want some water?”
“No, but can my boyfriend keep me company?”
I say it breathlessly, because that’s what I am. I’m lacking in anything resembling breath, my hair follicles buzzing, my heart galloping in my ribcage.
He just knocked out my manager.
He cleared the set so I’d feel more secure.
Penn Holland is my hero.
“Sure,” says the makeup artist with a knowing wink, before opening the trailer door and calling out, “The talent would like a certain lumberjack to join us…?”
Fifteen seconds later, Penn is ducking beneath the low door frame on his way into the trailer, looking at the array of eyeshadow palettes and hair tools like they’re foreign objects. “You good in here, baby?”
“Yes.” I watch his eyes rake my body in the mirror’s reflection. “Can I sit on your lap while she does my makeup?”
He dips his chin with a grunt, and I spring up, wringing my clasped hands under my chin as he fits his huge body into the chair, then I hop into his lap, giggling, my feet swinging freely, two feet off the ground. Is it too much to want this for the rest of my life? My big lumberjack strumming his fingers up and down my tummy while the artist paints ruby red lip stain onto my mouth? When she finishes and my mouth is free, I turn my head slightly to whisper to Penn. “Thank you for what you did out there.”
“Should have done it sooner,” he grumbles, kissing my shoulder.
“No. You bided your time and assessed the situation, because you’re not some childish hothead. You’re a man.”
I want to beg him to come to Los Angeles with me. To bring Erin, too. After all, his ex-wife lives nearby. It might even be better for their custody agreement! But I don’t, because that would be so selfish, wouldn’t it? Asking him to uproot his life for some actress. To move away from his home and become my personal shadow who always makes sure I’m safe. He couldn’t possibly want that job. Especially when he loves working in the forest so much.
“I loved meeting Erin this morning,” I whisper. “Do you think she likes me?”
“No, I think she worships the ground you walk on.”
Hope stirs in my throat. “I understand where she’s coming from. I feel the same way about her father.” The makeup artisthas her back turned, so I rub my bottom in his lap. “I worship the ground he walks on and I can’t wait to prove it later.”
Penn grabs my hips to keep me still, his eyes going black in the mirror. “Easy, Jenna. I watched that yellow thong creep deeper and deeper into your ass crack for forty-five goddamn minutes. My stones are beating like a drum.”
“Ouch.” I lean back, licking his stubbled chin from below. “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”
“No, you’re not.”
Another giggle wracks me, but before I get a chance to respond, the trailer door opens and there’s the photographer. “Are you almost ready to…” He trails off, staring at me and Penn in the mirror with a slack jaw. “Oh, this issomething. The nymph and the brute. We need to get these two on film.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” says the makeup artist, fanning herself.
“Are you game to pose for a few frames?” the photographer asks Penn. “It could be fun to have you lurking in the background, like a dangerous presence. Oh, I am really vibing with this. How about you, Jenna?”
“I don’t know.” I snuggle back into Penn. “He’s the opposite of dangerous.”
“The manager with the bloody nose begs to differ.”
“But he’s not dangerous to me.”
