Page 28 of Praise Me: Lumberjack
I’m whatever she needs me to be, so she can focus on being fucking amazing. Ninety-five percent of the time, I’m on set. Watching the behavior of her cast, crew. Waiting for someone to step out of line with her, so I can handle them. Word has spread far and wide enough about my protectiveness, and the closeness of our marriage, that I rarely have to step in and remind people of their manners anymore. But every once in a while, someone gets a black eye or a broken jaw. A reminder that no one talks to my wife with anything but the utmost respect. Respect she has earned all on her own.
Off screen? She’s just as incredible. A doting and dedicated stepmother to Erin. She’s even friendly with my ex-wife and regularly texts her pictures of Erin with updates when my daughter is visiting us. I don’t know what the hell I did in my life to deserve to call Jenna mine. But that’s what she is. She’s mine.
She’s.Mine.
That’s why she’s sleeping in my lap right now, cradled in my arms in the back of a limousine, on her way to a wrap party. She’s just finished shooting the third movie in theMusetrilogy and she’s exhausted, yet somehow, she managed to put on a little black dress that looks like second skin, insisting she needed to show her face. Then promptly fell asleep in my arms as soon as we started driving, her painted pink mouth parted with gentle inhales and exhales.
Keeping her secured to my body with one arm, I use my opposite hand to book a two-week vacation to Mykonos on my phone. Then I message our housekeeper and ask her to pack our suitcases, so I can fully focus on my girl tonight. She needs to be babied and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
The limousine hits a bump and Jenna jolts awake, gasping.
Looking around and slumping in relief when she sees me.
Nothing more rewarding than that.
Being the cause of this intoxicating woman’s relief.
“I only meant to close my eyes for a minute,” she yawns, sitting up in my lap to nuzzle me. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You’ve been working yourself to the bone.”
Observing me with adoring amusement, she shakes her head. “You won’t let me do that, remember? You had three-day work weeks written into my contracts. Even when I am working, you’re demanding non-stop breaks.”
“I’m not going to let movie studios take advantage of my wife. She needs her rest.”
“Oh really?” she murmurs, lightly, turning to straddle my hips, his lithe legs sliding wide on the limousine seat, allowing me to feel the warm curve of her pussy against my already straining fly. Then she rests her smiling lips against mine, tapping her tongue to the seam of my mouth. “I think you just like playing in my trailer.”
Good lord. She’s right about that.
We’ve logged at least a thousand rounds of sweaty, bone-melting sex in her trailer. I gave her anal for the first time on that fluffy pink bed in the back, a bottle of lube clenched between my teeth while she moaned into the palm of my hand. I’ve eaten her pussy so many times on the floor, I’ve lost count. Sometimes I need to taste it so bad, we simply can’t make it to any of the furniture. She’s been fucked standing up, bent over, riding frontways and backwards. I’ve pumped between those tits and inside those lips.
I’ve had her every way, over and over and over. And I only want to bang her harder.
More often.
Filthier.
I’m addicted to her body, and she’s addicted to mine.
I stare into the green eyes of my obsession now, molding her ass cheeks in my hands, moving her in a teasing hump. “You know I love your trailer. I’m thinking of recreating it in one of the guest rooms. An exact replica.”
Jenna gasps in delight. “For my birthday?”
I swat her backside lightly. “What have I told you, Jenna?”
“Every day is my birthday,” she whispers, bearing down a little harder on my erection, her breath beginning to grow scattered. “You know, we could skip this wrap party, if we wanted to…”
“We’ll do whatever you want.”
“I’m just so tired,” she pouts, resting her forehead against mine.
Alarm circulates in my blood. It’s not like her to be this exhausted. She’s usually a ball of energy. “I’m bringing you to the doctor.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?’ I shout, feeling her forehead. “You’re agreeing, just like that?”
“Well…” She plays with the buttons of my dress shirt. “I guess we could just do a pregnancy test at home. But my period is a month late, so maybe we should go straight to the doctor?”
