Page 10 of Wood Lessons
“And you thought moving would change that?”
“I thought having more opportunities to try to change would be helpful.Or maybe I could ride the confidence high of moving by myself to meet new people.”My lips twist in satisfaction.“And it worked.Despite my anxiety, I accepted your offer of lessons, didn’t I?I’m doing the damn thing.”
An image of the quote from an old Bachelorette promo flashes in my mind, but it’s true, I realize.As I’m trying to reassure Peter, I’m reminding myself of how far I’ve come and what I’ve accomplished.Even our kiss would’ve seemed impossible a few months ago.
“Guess that means we should get started.”A boyish grin brightens his face before handing me a pair of safety glasses.“Put these on for protection.I know I mentioned building a birdhouse, but why don’t you help me with a small project first?”
Nervous energy rockets under my skin, making me feel jittery.The anxiety I mentioned perks up; I don’t want to ruin his work or embarrass myself.
Relax, he knows you’re a beginner.
Sliding the clear plastic glasses over my ears, a slight haze blurs my vision.High school days spent in science labs come back to me at the familiar experience.
“What’s the project?”I watch as Peter sets a couple wood boards on the worktable.
“You’re going to help me turn these pine boards into chair legs.”He motions me closer and begins to show me how he measures and marks the wood for cutting.Handing over the ruler and pencil, he says, “Give it a try.I realize you know how to use a ruler already, but it’s still worth being part of the process.”
We work companionably for a half hour when Peter grabs a red tool with handles on either side of a center blade.He sets the tool in front of me.“This is a spokeshave.Have you ever seen one before?”
I shake my head no, and he explains, “It’s going to help us curve the pine into the right shape for me to carve in the twisted rope detail.Ready to try?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”Taking the tool from him, I face the newly-cut leg when Peter moves to stand behind me—the intimate move raising the hair on the back of my neck in attention.
Hot breath tickles my ear as he whispers, “Don’t worry.I’ll be right here guiding you.You’ll do fine.”
Large hands cover mine to gently push forward, showing me the correct form.My gaze shifts to the intriguing display of his forearm muscles flexing.
I should focus on what I'm doing before I cut myself or send the spokeshave skittering to the floor, but Peter’s warmth at my back is distracting.The earthy smell of sawdust mixed with his clean body wash surrounds me—a tantalizing scent urging me to breathe deeper.Unconsciously, I push back which causes something hard to nudge against my ass.
My lungs stutter as I realize he’s getting aroused by our positions, too, and relief that I’m not the only one makes me daring.Arching my hips, I rub a little harder, and our hands stall on the spokeshave, its original purpose all but forgotten.
“Trying to tease me, sweetheart?”Peter slowly spurs me forward until I’m trapped between him and the table—the hard edge digging into my soft belly.Light fingertips drift over my neck as he brushes my hair over one shoulder; a featherlight kiss skims over the exposed skin, and I shiver in response.
Maybe I was trying to tease him.I didn’t have a lot of experience with men, but things felt easy with Peter.For some reason, my usual fear refused to put up much of a fight when it came to him.And instead of questioning any deeper meaning, I’m going to roll with and see where it takes me.
“What are you going to do if I am?”The sultry voice isn’t recognizable to my ears, but I guess the seductress inside me had never had a reason to appear before now.
“If my girl wants to play, who am I to refuse her?”
His girl?The possessive endearment makes my thighs clench in anticipation of his claiming.God, listen to me.Claiming.Like I’m living in some kind of fated mates novel.
Peter skirts a hand around my waist to glide under my shirt.“Is this alright?”
“Yes...”And immediately his hand continues its path upward until he cups one of my breasts, thumb flicking over the hardened tip.
“You know, I’ve never had someone out here before—never asked a woman home, let alone into my shop.”Another hand lowers to the button of my jeans as he keeps playing with my nipple.“You wet, baby?Want me to lay you bare and let you soak this table with your cream as I eat this pussy?”
Somehow, he’s managed to unzip my jeans and slip a hand down my panties without my notice until I feel rough fingertips probe my entrance.I moan at the contact, eager for him to reach a little higher and circle my clit.
“Mmm...that’s exactly what you want.You need my tongue, baby?”
I nod frantically, and Peter whips me around so we’re chest to chest.Removing the safety glasses we’re both wearing, I stifle a laugh at how ridiculous we must’ve looked then any thoughts outside of Peter fly out the window as his mouth devours mine in a harsh kiss.
Wet, sucking sounds fill the room when he starts pumping his fingers deep—the palm of his hand slapping against the bundle of nerves aching for attention.“Please...”I beg, needing more—his hand, his tongue—I want everything.
Peter jerks away and rips off his plaid overshirt, leaving a plain white tee that molds to his chest.I grasp the hem of the shirt thinking to help him undress when he shakes his head.“Not yet, sweetheart.I just need this to protect you from any stray splinters.The tabletop’s worn smooth, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
Spreading the thick fabric over the table, he captures my hips in a firm grip and lifts me to settle on the hard surface.My nails dig into his shoulders for balance while admiration blooms in my chest.I’m not a light burden—extra curves abound—yet he picked me up like it was nothing, and my desire intensifies at the impressive feat.
