The Woodsman's Baby

by Eddie Cleveland

  Of course he doesn’t.

  When he left town, I was a gangly thirteen-year-old with short, fuzzy little afro and braces. My arms and legs seemed to be in a competition with each other for what limb could grow the fastest and my ears looked like they were trying to teach Dumbo a thing or two about how to fly.

  I instinctively touch my earlobe, now hidden by long hair and smile, “I’m Lo…” I clear my throat instantly deciding to keep my childhood nickname to myself, “Charlotte.”

  “Charlotte,” his green eyes twinkle and his strong jaw sets.

  Does he know who I am? Does he remember little Lottie, his best friend’s sister, had a big girl name? Does he remember me at all?

  “A beautiful name,” he leans toward me with a smile that makes me feel like I’ve just turned my face into the first warm rays of sunshine that heat the earth in the spring.

  “Thank you,” I feel heat bloom over my cheeks, not to mention between my legs.

  “What are you drinking, Charlotte?” He briefly looks down at my half-empty glass. Or is it half-full?

  “Vodka cranberry,” I lick my lips and realize that I’m suddenly parched. I take a sip of my drink, but nothing in a glass can quench this thirst. It’s my nerves making my tongue feel like a batten of cotton.

  “I’ll get you another,” he doesn’t ask and I don’t mind a bit.

  He stands up and his friend follows suit. I watch as his round, tight ass walks away.

  “Oh my God! It’s really him! Are you going to tell him?” Amy suddenly reappears across the table, closing the canyon of distance that was created by Connor sitting down.

  “No, I don’t want him to see me as the goofy kid with some puppy-love crush,” I lean across the table and hiss at her.

  “So, you’re gonna pretend you don’t know him? Isn’t that going to get weird?” She raises an eyebrow, heavily defined with brow pencil.

  “No, I’m not pretending anything. I’ll tell him, I mean, I think I will. I haven’t worked that out yet. Can you just let me enjoy being seen as a sexy woman by the only guy I’ve ever loved instead of as a little kid?”

  “No, of course, you’re right. Sorry,” Amy backs down, twisting her red hair around her pale fingers. “You deserve this babe, if I’d been driving myself crazy about a guy for as long as you have and he showed up like that, I’d have already taken him home by now,” her blue eyes sparkle.

  “No doubt,” I laugh and twist my head around to look at him. Connor and his friend are still grabbing our drinks from the bar. I shamelessly let my gaze lick down his neck and over his burly shoulders, down his cut, tattooed arms and over the V of his waist to that perfect butt.

  “Look at you! I’ve never seen you like this, I like it. It’s about time you came out of that shell,” Amy teases me. “Don’t waste tonight, you gotta hop on that stallion and ride!” She giggles.

  “Amy!”

  “Oh, please. Don’t act so shocked. You’re thinking it. And you know what? If Connor fucking McLean disappears from your life again and you didn’t take this opportunity, I’m not going to listen to it.”

  The guys come back to the table with handfuls of drinks and smiles and we both jump in our seats, sitting up straight.

  “Vodka cranberry for you, and a rum and Coke for me,” Connor smirks as he sits back down beside me.

  “Oh, thanks for the Long Island,” Amy purrs from across the table. “Hey, Ryan, I was thinking it’d be nice to enjoy these out on the deck. Wanna join me?” She tilts her head and looks up at with a coy smile.

  “Sounds good to me, you guys coming?” He looks over at us.

  “No, they’re fine in here, right Charlotte?” Amy gives me a pointed look.

  “Yeah, we’re good,” I smile back.

  “Okay, lead the way,” Rogers stands up and Amy grabs her drink before getting on her feet.

  “Text me tomorrow babe,” Amy looks at me and begins to walk away. She takes a few steps and yells back over her shoulder, “Oh and don’t forget, the reins!”

  I shake my head as she disappears from sight with Ryan outside.

  “What was that?” Connor looks at me.

  “What? Oh, nothing. She’s obsessed with the weather,” I cringe at my inability to convincingly lie on the spot.

  “Um, okay,” he shrugs.

  “Anyway, thanks for the drink,” I take a big mouthful of what’s left in my first glass and push it across the table.

  “Not a problem, so, Charlotte, you lived here long?” He reaches out and grasps my hand, weaving his white fingers through my much darker ones and my heart nearly thuds out of my chest.

  “In Bend? Yeah, I was born here,” I lick my lips nervously and look down at my fresh drink.

  “Really? Me too.”

  “I haven’t seen you around,” I’m not technically lying. It has been over a decade since I’ve studied his sexy face. Since I’ve craved his broad hands, the hand holding mine now, to touch me. Since I’ve gotten lost in the world-stopping green of his eyes.

  “I left when I was eighteen,” he fills in the part of the story I already know. “I just retired from the SEALs and thought it was time to come back home.” His eyebrows furrow together as he seems to get lost in his drink. Like he’s watching a scene he doesn’t want to explain play out on the surface of his fizzing drink.

  “Well, I’m glad you came back,” I let my heart do the talking and feel myself relax when he finds his way back to my eyes.

  “Right now, you’re making it pretty easy to see I made the right decision,” his words feel like the little electric shock you get when someone scuffs their feet on the carpet. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I sit a bit taller.

  Amy is right, I’d be a fool to let him go. To let this go. I glance down at my drink. I didn’t plan on coming out here to get drunk, but I didn’t plan on meeting the only man who has made my heart fill like a helium balloon either. I lift my glass and hold it up to Connor, certain he can see my heart pulsing in my neck as I smile up at him, “Here’s to new beginnings and great decisions.”

  He clinks his glass against mine and we both take a big swig. Connor drapes his arm casually over my shoulders and I snuggle into him without thinking. To new beginnings and great decisions. Let’s hope this is the start of both.

  3

  Charlotte

  I unlock the front door and we stumble through like a couple of blind elephants.

  “Shhh!” I hold my finger over my lips and giggle, “Keep it down.” People screaming about their houses burning to the ground are probably quieter than my loud whisper right now.

  “Keep what down,” he murmurs, pinning me against the front entrance wall with his hips, “you? Is that what you like? Being held down? Or are you telling me to go down, ‘cause I can’t wait to taste you,” he kisses me and silences my explanation about what I said. In fact, after a couple of seconds of his tongue swirling against mine, like a couple of lovestruck teens dancing on prom night, I forget what I was even trying to tell him.

  He steps back and sways slightly, not like he’s going to pass out, but definitely like the booze has hit him. I couldn’t keep up with him, and it took me the better part of five minutes just to unlock my front door.

  Connor steps back and I grab his hand, leading him as quietly as I can down the hallway to the basement door.

  “Hey, this place looks familiar,” Connor looks around and I practically drag him behind me.

  “Oh yeah?” I try to sound casual, but I’ve never been a great liar. “You know these townhouses. They all look identical. If you’ve been in one, you’ve been in them all,” I clutch the doorknob in my palm and fling the door open, leading him down the stairs to my room.

  “I guess,” he doesn’t sound convinced. Like I said, I’m a shit liar. At least this gives me something to be nervous about besides having my first one-night stand. I mean, obviously, I hope it’s more than that. I’m not saying I expect wedding bells and babies, just
that I haven’t entirely ruled out either with Connor.

  “Yeah, they’re all pretty cookie cutter,” I open my bedroom door and stumble inside with him hot on my heels. I shut the door with a click behind him and decide he needs a distraction before this turns into something more; potentially ruining our night. If he knows he’s in the same house his best friend grew up in, if he suddenly realizes who I am, this night is over. Not to mention the babies and the wedding.

  “Did you really want to discuss architecture right now? Or are there better things I could be using my lips for?” I boldly step into him, looking up at him from under my heavy eyelashes and watch his eyes get a little bigger when I rub my hand over the front of his jeans.

  “Mmmm, you make an excellent point,” he puts his hands on my shoulders and walks me slowly backwards across the room to my bed. “I would love to see what else that mouth can do, but on one condition,” his eyes are hazy from the booze but I can still see them twinkle.

  “What’s that?” I practically purr.

  “That I get to show you what my mouth can do at the same time.”

  I take a final step back and my legs hit the edge of my bed. My knees buckle and I find myself sitting on my mattress with Connor’s growing bulge inches from my face.

  He leans over me and quickly tugs my shirt up over my head, I don’t even understand how he gets my bra off so quickly. I don’t think even I’ve gotten it off that fast after a long day when all I want to do is toss it across the room and relax for the night. Connor leans over me and kisses me tenderly, our lips part and we explore each other’s mouths, our tongues feverishly twisting and turning against each other. I’m not entirely sure how I ended up on my back until I look down and see that Connor is making quick work of helping me out of my pants. When I’m stripped down to nothing but my lace panties, he pauses. I watch Connor’s green eyes travel over the fringe of my underwear, like under them is the Christmas present he’s been waiting all year for. He looks almost reverent as he lightly brushes his finger over the baby blue lace.

  “You look like a piece of art, you know that? I can’t decide if I’m supposed to admire you or fuck you,” his fingertips travel over my pussy and I groan.

  “Really?” I really do whisper this time, I never expected Connor to be so sweet and so tender.

  “Of course not. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re fucking spectacular. Men start wars over women like you, but there’s no confusion,” he digs his fingertips in around the hem of my panties and twists them up in his palm. I can feel the fabric stretch tight around my hips and he twists harder. The seams explode over my skin, leaving me completely bare as Connor tosses my ripped panties to the floor. “I’m going to fuck you,” he growls.

  He yanks his own shirt off and I’m distracted by the collage of tattoos etched into his skin. I’m transfixed as he frees himself from his pants, then his underwear, completely drawn in by the symbols and colors. That is, until I see his cock swaying in front of me.

  Holy shit.

  I literally gulp as my eyes travel over his veiny girth. I lick my lips as I study every inch of him, and there are a lot of them, all the way down and back up to the belled curve of his cockhead.

  I’m frozen to the spot. Completely unable to move. Half of me wants to leap across this bed and try to take as much of him into my mouth as I can. The other half is overwhelmed with uncertainty and shyness. It isn’t only the fact that I’ve never had a one-night stand before, I just haven’t had that much sex before either. I’ve done it with all of one guy. And even then, it was a long-term relationship. This is all new to me.

  Why are you fighting what you want? This has been your dream forever. Do you really want to sit here and overanalyze your life right now? Or do you want to make your deepest fantasy come alive?

  Just like my architecture question I asked Connor earlier, it’s a no-brainer.

  I sit on my haunches and wrap my hands around Connor’s thick dick. Both of them. Opening my lips wide, I take the tip of him in my mouth. He groans and rolls his head back. I slide him into my mouth further when he pulls back.

  “Lie down,” he demands.

  “What? I thought you wanted me to…” my fuzzy brain can’t make sense of what he’s asking.

  “I do, I do,” he answers my unasked question. “Lie down on the bed and hang your head over the edge. I want to eat you out while you suck my cock.”

  We ain’t in Kansas anymore. My last boyfriend, the only guy I’ve ever slept with was about as vanilla as they come. I mean, I was a virgin when I met him and I was bored. Any time I suggested something even slightly different than our usual missionary routine, he got angry and cold. Honestly, I think my “crazy” suggestions of oral sex and doggie style were the main reasons he left.

  Not that I give a fuck about any of that now. I obey Connor and turn around on the bed, lying across it, I hang my head over the side and breathe in sharply when he hovers over me, dragging his tongue over my breasts and over my tummy to my pussy.

  I grab his cock, again with two hands, and guide it in my mouth over my tongue. Connor’s mouth kisses a trail to my pussy and his tongue immediately delves between my lips, finding my clit quickly.

  “Mmmm,” I moan against his cock and he pushes it into my mouth deeper. I hollow my cheeks, sucking on him and trying to concentrate on his pleasure as much as possible, but when he grabs my thighs and presses them open and begins battering my clit with his wet, warm tongue, I’m done for.

  I’ve never felt anything like the insane intensity building up inside me now. I try to meet his mouth, raising my quivering hips toward him, but Connor pushes my legs against the bed and owns the moment.

  I don’t know if it’s the booze or a head rush from how I’m lying, but my eyes get fuzzy and I feel a little dizzy as my body tenses up, every muscle tight. Connor’s tongue never stops teasing me, tasting me, twisting against my clit unrelentingly. He’s on a mission. A mission to make me cum. And he’s going to succeed.

  A wave that felt like it had been building up inside me, taller and wider, suddenly crashes down. I’m drowning in ecstasy. I’m being tossed around in a wild undercurrent of bliss and I don’t know which way is up or down.

  “Oh.My.Fuck! Connor. Oh God!” I cry out as little tremors run through my limbs and make my thick thighs quake with pleasure.

  Connor pulls out of my mouth, not that I was doing a great job of keeping up, and smirks down at me. “You like that, sweetheart?”

  “Like, is not the right word,” I realize I’m panting. The sensation is descending now, but there’s no part of my body it didn’t overwhelm.

  “Good, ‘cause we got all night, and I’m just getting started,” his green eyes twinkle as he smiles.

  4

  Connor

  “What did you have in mind?” Charlotte blinks at me, teasing me, pretending she didn’t just feel how hard she made me in her mouth a few minutes ago.

  “Get up,” my voice is like gravel over my vocal chords as I help lift her from her bed. I pick her up and she wraps her legs around my waist as my fingers dig into the plump meat of her ass. I can feel the heat between her legs against my aching cock and I can barely think straight. I twist around, spotting a dresser on the far wall with a huge, arc shaped mirror hanging over it. I walk her over, fighting my urge to slide my cock inside her right now and fuck her mid-air. Instead, I drop her plump ass down on the edge of the dresser and lean over her, kissing her like the key to my survival rests on her full lips.

  “I’m gonna fuck that tight pussy, Charlotte,” I murmur in her ear. “Don’t move,” I tell her before grabbing my jeans from the pile of clothes on the floor and frantically searching the pockets for the condom I was sure I had on me.

  I check each pocket a second time, not willing to believe I could’ve been so stupid. So fucking stupid! Where is it? I drop them back down in crumpled defeat. Not in there.

  Fuck.

  “What’s wrong?” Charlotte�
�s brown eyes cloud over and she bites her pouty bottom lip.

  “I don’t have a condom,” I feel like a man who raised the white flag of surrender. Defeated. Done.

  “No condom?” She looks down my body. Her eyes flicker over my pecs, down my abs to my cock. She bites her lip again, but this time it isn’t with uncertainty.

  It’s with desire.

  “Can’t you…do you think you could just, you know? Not cum inside me?” She sounds unsure. Like she’s afraid to offend me. Or maybe she’s afraid I’ll say “No.”

  “Are you sure?” I close the distance between us, desperate to feel her heat billow against my skin. I thread my fingers through her hair and gently tug her head to the side, kissing up her neck and suckling on her earlobe, “Are you sure that’s what you want?” I whisper.

  “Mmhmm,” she grinds against me and my restraint, the little of it I had, evaporates.

  “Get the fuck over here,” I dig my fingers into her ass and drag her toward me, flipping her onto her belly so she’s facing the mirror. “I’m gonna fill you full of cock and I want you to watch the whole thing,” I direct her.

  “Take me Connor. Don’t hold back, I want this,” her voice is breathy and her body tenses up with anticipation, “I want you.”

  I sweep my foot between her closed legs, opening her stance for me and step between them. In the mirror, I can see that she is waiting, like every second I’m not inside her is painful.

  Grabbing her shoulder with one hand, I fist the base of my shaft with the other and guide it to her entrance. I know I should probably go slower. I know I should probably slide in, then out, letting her get used to me before burying myself inside her. But I can’t. I plunge my cock into her tight, wet pussy in one deep thrust. I slide in, every inch of me, until I’m completely sunken inside her, buried to the hilt. My hips press against her shapely ass and she opens her legs further. Like she wants me to reach her very core and I press in deeper.