by Jagger Cole
Big Deck
Jagger Cole
Contents
A Special Present
Synopsis
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Afterword
About the Author
Big Deck
By Jagger Cole
www.jaggercolewrites.com
Copyright © 2020 by Jagger Cole
All rights reserved.
Cover by Mayhem Cover Design
Editing by MJ Edits
This is a literary work of fiction. Any names, places, or incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. And similarities or resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events or establishments, are solely coincidental.
All characters in this work are eighteen years of age or older, and all relations of a sexual nature are completely consensual.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal and a violation of US Copyright law.
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A Special Present
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Synopsis
He’s got the perfect tool for the job.
Hardened, growly, and huge. When rough and tumble construction foreman Hollis Ford arrives at the house of his new client, he’s not sure what to expect. But it sure as hell isn’t a-list movie star Heather Carlton.
Curves that were made for his rough hands, wild red hair, untamed sass, and a spitfire mouth he’s dying to taste. Hollis hasn’t been with a woman in years, but one look at Heather, and he knows she’s all he’ll ever want. One look, and she’s his to claim.
Heather’s new to Colorado, trying to escape the craziness of Hollywood. She’s hired a contractor to rebuild the deck on her new house, but when she opens the door to six-foot-five of big, hard, and gorgeous, her whole world turns upside down.
When a long time stalker finds Heather and tries to hurt her, the beast Hollis has spent years locking away inside threatens to break free. Now there’s a new job: protect his woman, and destroy anyone that would try and hurt or take her from him.
Heather needs protection. She needs saving. She needs a big...deck. And Hollis is every inch the man for the job.
1
Hollis
The truck comes to a stop outside the big lodge-style house. I take a deep breath and shut off the engine. I shove my fingers through my hair as I look up at the place.
Fuck, that’s a huge ass house.
It’s not like big houses in the Vail and Aspen areas are a novelty. Hell, I drove past half a dozen of them perched up on hillsides and out across acres of lawn on the drive out here. But this one holds my eye like big houses usually don’t. Could be it’s the mix of old, modern, and mountain lodge in the design. Who knows.
I take another deep breath of fresh mountain air as I step out of the truck, and I grin. I’ve been out here for a year now, and I’m still blown away at how damn good it feels to be out in nature. Fresh air, mountains, and big sky. And building things, of course, since I came out here to work at my buddy Sean’s contracting company.
Building and working with my hands: that’s what I was put on this earth to do, especially with my size. These big hands, big muscles, and my overall size made me a lightning rod for trouble when I was younger. I was a hothead back then, constantly getting mixed up with fights and bullshit. Then I joined the Marines, and my job was killing things out in the deserts of Afghanistan.
But I’m done with all of that now. Now I’m home with scars inside and out. But out here in the Colorado hills working with my hands, the nightmares of my past can finally stay there where they belong. In the past.
I grab my tool belt and sling it over my shoulder, and I turn back to the house. Fuck, it really is huge. Up close, I admire the craftsmanship, though I can also tell that it needs some work here and there—like the deck I’m here to take a look at and start overhauling. But I’ll grant the owner some leeway. Sean mentioned when he sent me out here that the client was newly moved in.
I climb the handful of stairs to the porch and roll my neck. I reach out and rap my knuckles on the door. I’m not even sure who I’m excepting, but if the owners are anything like the usual types around here who hire Sean’s services, I’m guessing it’ll be some sixty-year-old investment banker. It’ll be a guy with a gut, gray hair, and a burning need to call me son or tell me about the one guy he knows who knew a guy in the service.
I frown and knock again, louder this time. A minute later, my mood souring, I pound again. Finally, this time, I hear a voice.
“I’m coming! Relax!”
It’s a woman’s voice. Well shit, there goes my theory. Plus, it’s a young voice, too. The footsteps grow louder, getting closer, until finally, with a flustered-sounding rattle to the lock, the door swings wide open.
Holy shit.
She’s fucking beautiful. And I mean knock you on your ass beautiful. I freeze as I drink in the woman who’s just flung the door open with a huff; the long, tousled red hair, sharp, gorgeous blue eyes, and the soft, full pink lips. She’s slender and curvy at the same time—womanly in all the right places, with legs that just keep going.
The fact that she’s wearing a short white bathrobe that comes up to mid-thigh most definitely has my attention. I can feel my heart beating faster, and my muscles tightening. I hold back a groan. And my jeans definitely get a whole lot tighter in a certain place as her stunning looks immediately have my dick swelling.
There’s something familiar about her, and I frown as her big blue eyes hold mine. I can’t place it though—maybe I’ve seen her around town? I wonder for a second if it’s because she’s been a client before. But I remember that Sean mentioned she was newly moved in. And besides that, I’d definitely have remembered this house. I’d definitely have remembered her, too.
Whatever the familiarity, I push it aside when my eyes finally focus on the full picture and realize something else: she’s got a fuckin’ rifle, and it’s pointed right at me.
“Whoa, easy,” I growl gruffly. I hold my hands up, frowning. “You called my boss? I’m from Tuff Built.”
The woman blinks quickly, her mouth in a little o-shape. She frowns, and then she blushes deeply. Her hands drop the muzzle of the gun in a flash, and her cheeks darken even more.
“I—God I’m so sorry. I thought…” She smiles awkwardly, and quickly leans the gun against the wall by the front door. “I’m really sorry!”
I shrug. Honestly, it’s not the first I’ve had a gun pointed at me. But it’s certainly the prettiest face to ever pull one on me.
“Um, hi.” She almost whispers it, looking up at me. I’ve got at least a foot on her, maybe more. I’m six-foot-five, after all. And this girl is maybe five-four.
“You’re Sean?”
“Hollis,” I growl. “Sean’s the owner, my boss.”
She nods. “Right, right. Um, please come in.”
Fuck, she still looks familiar, but I can’t place it. I step into the house, and as she closes the door behind me, I reach down and flick the safety on the hunting rifle.
She blushes again. “Sorry about that,” she says quickly. “I’m Heather.”
>
She smiles, and I put my hand out. “Nice to meet you, Heather.”
She peers up at me, like she’s looking for something else. But I have no idea what it is, so I just flash her a half smile and keep my hand out. Eventually, frowning a little, she shakes it.
“Nice to meet you too, Hollis.”
I look up and glance around, and it takes a lot to hold back the whistle. I mean holy shit; the place is incredible. High, vaulted ceilings, and the whole place is aged wood, slate, and tastefully done metal accents. This house must have cost a fucking fortune, and I lower my eyes back to the petite redhead who might be all of twenty-five. Who the fuck is she, some sort of heiress?
Heather smiles up at me, her teeth nipping at her bottom lip almost playfully.
“So do you want to take a peek?”
I raise an eyebrow, and smirk crossing my lips as my eyes slide down over that tiny bathrobe. Heather immediately blushes again.
“Um, the deck,” she adds quickly, looking flustered. “I mean do you want to take a peek at the deck?”
“Might help.”
She smiles, her cheeks still red. “Right, yeah. Okay, it’s this way.”
She turns and walks away. I wish I could say I was a gentleman, but I’m not one at all. My eyes most definitely are glued to her goddamn perfect apple ass under that terrycloth as she walks away from me. Finally, I snap out of it and follow, trying to will my rock-hard erection down.
Through the enormous kitchen that would make a professional chef jealous, and through yet another living room, we get to a set of glass sliding doors. Outside, there’s a deck alright, but damn is it in rough shape.
I scowl at the shape of it—broken boards, loose-looking railings, a sagging middle. It’s hazard. It’s a crime is what it is. With a house like this? And a view like that? I mean damn, the vista out back looks like a postcard for Colorado—mountain peaks, rolling forests, and lush greenery. And then this dog-turd of a deck.
Heather makes a sound with her tongue against her teeth.
“Shit, that bad, huh?”
I nod and give the deck one last sour look before I turn to her. “It’s pretty bad, yeah. I mean from a safety perspective; I’d say at the very least you should just replace the whole thing. If you want my professional opinion too, though?”
“Please.”
I shrug. “That view? And a house like this? A view like that deserves a better deck anyways. Could be bigger, too.” I glance out at the scenery again, imagining how good it could look with some real craftsmanship. I turn back to Heather. “Yeah, I think you need a bigger deck.”
She blinks, heat flushing through her cheeks. “W—what?” She stumbles out.
“I said you need a bigger deck.”
She blinks rapidly and licks her lips. “Oh, yeah, yep. Definitely.”
I frown as she quickly turns away from me. She’s an odd bird this one, though certainly stunningly gorgeous. Distractingly so. With that short robe, and those legs, and that ass? I grunt to myself. Fuck me, it’s been far, far too long since I’ve put my hands on a woman. Years, actually.
I realize she’s talking, and I blink and pull my head back into the game. “What?” I grunt.
Heather swallows. “So what do you think? If I wanted to go, um…” her cheeks simmer and she looks out through the glass doors. “If I wanted bigger?”
“I think I could bang it out in a weekend.”
Her cheeks blush brightly, and something in me perks up. Did she just blush when I said, “bang out?” I hold back the grin, but there’s no holding back the way my cock thickens in my jeans.
“I mean, that sounds amazing. One weekend?”
I nod. “This weekend, if you want.”
She beams. “That would be incredible! I mean this view is one of the reasons I bought this place. But I’ve been a little cautious out on the deck ever since I moved in.”
“Yeah, it looks pretty rickety.”
She makes a sour face. “Well, do you want to go out and give it a once over?”
She pulls the big sliding door open, and she starts to step out before I can I tell her not to. That deck isn’t just rickety, it’s falling the hell apart. She steps out and my Marine instincts kick into action. But then as she touches her foot down, it happens quickly.
The board snaps under her foot, and Heather gasps loudly as she starts to plunge right through the wood. I swear and lung after her, and in one motion, I grab her and then twist as we both fall. I grunt as my back hits the deck, and Heather screams as we both crash through the rotten wood.
It’s not a far drop, but fuck, the wind gets knocked right out of me when we land with her on top of me. I blink away stars and cough away dust and dirt, and she does the same. I grunt, blinking and looking up through the cascade of lilac-scented red hair fallen across my eyes.
I forget all about the fall though when my eyes spot it. My body stiffens, and my gaze hardens as I look up at the hole in the deck. But I ain’t really looking at the deck, I’m looking at the white terrycloth robe that Heather was just wearing that’s now hanging caught and tangled in the broken wood around the hole.
In a second, my hands realize that there’s skin under them. My chest feels the swell of her naked tits, and the hard points of her nipples. I look down through tousled red hair and I growl as I see her bare back, a bare, tight, sculpted ass, and bare legs. Heather’s naked, right on top of me.
She blinks and coughs. Then she raises herself slightly and looks up into my face.
“Holy shit, I—” she stiffens as she suddenly realizes the state of her wardrobe, and her face turns a shade of bright crimson. She gasps almost silently, and our eyes lock with our faces inches apart. It happens in slow motion, but there’s no stopping it.
Our mouths come together hard, and I fucking growl as I taste those pretty lips.
2
Heather
The huge oak front door swings open when I yank it angrily. I was right about to slip into a bath, and whoever is knocking it about to catch my wrath. Just in case it’s him, I’ve got my newly purchased gun ready in my hands. But when I whip the door open, suddenly, the fury goes out of my sails. I blink, my mouth hanging open as I look up, and up at the absolute giant of a man filling my doorway. A very ridiculously hot giant Viking of a man.
He’s huge. I mean, I’m eye-level with his chest, for God’s sake. I pull my eyes higher, my head dropping back as I look up at him entirely, and I blush. He’s huge, and he’s absolutely beautiful. Gorgeous blue eyes, blond hair, and a perfect, stubbled jawline. There’s a little tattoo ink showing around the neck of his tight t-shirt, and more on his muscled arms under his sleeves.
One look and all I want to say is “oh hello, yes please!” Which, I don’t actually say, because I’m not a lunatic. Not yet, at least. But that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking it.
I’ve been in an absolutely sour mood all day, ever since I glanced at a super trashy, popular celebrity gossip blog and saw the headline that Michael and her are expecting. Michael as in my ex-husband, and her as in Rebecca Ferrare, his new wife. Rebecca Ferrare his new younger wife, and more importantly, his new wife who can actually have children. Unlike, well, me.
That’s basically reason number two after him being a scum-sucking asshole that Michael cheated on me with the younger actress on the set of the new teen rom-com he was producing. Because in Hollywood, my being twenty-six means I’m practically middle-aged. Add in the inability to bare children and a shitty human like Michael, and there you have it. Thanks for nothing, ovaries.
But I look up at this ridiculously hot man filling out my doorway like a Viking god, and holy cow, my ovaries. His cool, piercing blue eyes captivate mine, and I feel a tremble of heat deep in my core. I shift on my feet, my thighs rubbing together. A forbidden feeling tingles over my skin.
I think lusting after strangers knocking on my front door is ample evidence that I haven’t been with a man in way too long. I mean it’s bee
n almost three years, which is so incredibly depressing. Two years of nothing with Michael, since that was a total dead-bedroom of a marriage, and then the year of nothing since.
Yes, I’ve had offers. Not to sound conceited, but, they’re constant, given who I am. I get that I was born winning the genetics lottery, trust me. But it’s the fame too. Men want to conquer, and claim. And someone like me isn’t just a pretty face, I’m a trophy.
But this guy… holy shit. I look up at his smoky-handsome looks, and that carved jawline, and his sheer size, and it’s like a switch is being flicked on. My nipples harden against the terrycloth covering them, and God help me, I can feel myself getting wet.
“Whoa,” he suddenly growls. His eyes narrow darkly, and he holds a hand up. Suddenly, I realize I’m still pointing a fucking gun at him like a lunatic.
“You called me,” he grunts. “I’m from Tuff Built.”
“Oh, God!” I gasp. Tuff Built is the contractor and construction business that was recommended to me, who I called about redoing the back deck on this place. And I completely forget they were coming today. “I’m so sorry!” I blurt out and quickly lower the gun.
It’s a new addition to my life, this gun. My agent, Scarlett, suggested I buy it after yet another run-in with Pete, my stalker. I know, I know. How “Hollywood” is it to say you have a stalker? But Pete isn’t a punchline, at all. He started off just being a weirdo super-fan who seemed to always be at my signings and events. But once he started breaking into my yard back in LA and going through my garbage, it got creepy and dangerous. He hasn’t found me out here, but Scarlett swears she spotted him at the Denver airport when she came out to visit me a few weeks ago. And that’s too close for comfort for me.
