“Let me do that,” I tell him. “I can make these.”
“Like hell are you making my sandwich.”
“Well, I’m the woman. I can make it. And besides, I can’t eat that,” I say, pointing to the slices of bread slathered in yellow. “I hate mustard.”
Jax laughs. “Really? You’re gonna come in my kitchen and tell me I’m doing it wrong?”
“Mustard is just gross.”
“Honey, take a seat. I’ll make you your sandwich, and I promise you’ll like it.”
I shrug, knowing I’m not going to get anywhere with him. Pulling out a chair at the table built for two, I sit and watch him in the kitchen. It’s interesting, I mean, I can’t ever remember seeing my own father making something as simple as a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—let alone this ham and Swiss, lettuce and tomato masterpiece Jaxon is putting together.
My father always had someone serving him. It was always my mother or me, or now my younger sisters, waiting on him hand and foot. He was the head of the household; we needed to serve him.
But it doesn’t seem like Jaxon uses the same logic. He puts the ham sandwich on a plate, fishes a pickle out of a jar, and adds it to the lunch, and then hands me the meal.
I smile but, inwardly, fear rumbles though me. Maybe he won’t see this baby as his responsibility. Maybe he won’t want, or even offer, to take care of it.
What will I do then? I can’t have this baby at home, without a husband. But looking at Jaxon now, seeing the scrawling tattoos across his skin and the beer he carries to the table, hearing the coarse words that fall from his lips, it might be a stretch to think a baby would cause him to become a father.
“So you back with that asshole?” he asks.
The sandwich is near my mouth and, even though it’s full of mustard, I have to admit that it’s way more appealing than anything Subway has ever made me. I pause, though, before I take a bite.
“Back with who?”
“That asshole who showed up here and yanked you back to your cult?”
“Oh, Luke? No, we aren’t together. He’s actually long gone. Went to Colorado for Bible College. He and I are over. I mean, I think he would have considered me, for a second, but not once he found us ....”
“Naked?”
“Right.” Heat rises to my cheeks, so I fill in the intensity of Jax’s single word by shoving the sandwich in my mouth.
“So what did your parents do?” he asks.
“Oh, they don’t know about the baby.”
“No,” Jax shakes his head. “About you. You left here all terrified that they were gonna kick you to the curb because you got properly fucked. Did they?”
“I’m still living at home.” I pick up the dill pickle and take a crunchy bite. Smiling, I add, “They did send me to a sex addicts meeting though.”
“You shitting me?” Jax takes a swig of his beer, cocking a brow at me.
“I know, and they only thought I had sex once.” I laugh, grateful that Jax has pulled me from the stress of what happens next, and instead helped me remember to laugh. “Who knows what would have happened if they knew the truth—that after Luke showed up, we went for another round.”
“You ready for another round now?” Jax asks as I take another huge bite from the sandwich.
Swallowing, I say, “Sure.” At this point I just want to avoid the potentially awkward and traumatizing conversation that we have to have eventually. For now, ignorance is bliss.
“The mustard isn’t bad, right?” Jax asks, as I stand from the table.
“Yeah,” I say. “I guess I don’t always know what is good for me.”
“Well, honey, I have one thing that will always be good for you.” Jax takes me by the waist and pulls me to him.
I lean in, realizing I want anything he offers up.
Chapter Thirteen
JAX
I have this honey stripped of her clothes in five seconds flat. I know we just fucked in the woods, but I swear to God, watching her mouth on that dill pickle got me hard as a fucking log. I needed her lips wrapped around my cock the same way. And I won’t wait.
Luckily, Harper has spent her whole life being repressed, and she must view the woods as the only place she can let loose. Watching her rip out of her clothing tells me everything I need to know. This girl is ready to have her mind blown.
I take off my pants, my cock standing at attention, the long, thick rod already throbbing, just imagining her mouth sucking me off nice and good. I want this girl on her knees, and I want to watch as she takes me in her mouth until my cock hits the back of her throat.
I watch Harper fling her bra to the floor. Her big, gorgeous tits now free, she teases me by taking her hand and rubbing it over her milky globe. She licks a finger, pinches her own nipples, then dips it low, between her legs, and presses her delicate finger into herself.
“Jax, I know I said your cock was pretty before—but it’s really, really gorgeous. Like, when you undress, and I see how big and hard you are, it makes me want to do things ... things that I don’t even know if we can do.”
“Things like what, honey?” I ask, walking toward her. Knowing nothing is off limits. Feeling the heat rise in Harper, it rises in me too.
“Things like you coming on my face. On my tits.” Harper’s breathing is heavy as she speaks so erotically. Her finger is still pressed inside her, moving faster and faster, and she tells me her fantasies. “Things like you pushing my face into a pillow and coming in me from behind, and spilling your seed on my ass. Things like you and me in a shower, together, and me putting your cock in my mouth as hot water falls around us, as I swallow your come.”
I love that Harper isn’t embarrassed, isn’t ashamed. So many women probably Google this shit, find novels to read about these forbidden desires, but aren’t brave enough to ask for it. I feel like a fucking king to have Harper standing before me, fingering herself as drops of her own pussy juice slide down her leg, telling me about the fact she wants me to give her a motherfucking facial. I’ll come all over her gorgeous body, she doesn’t have to ask twice.
“We can do all those things, baby.” I slap my hand across her ass, and a sly smile spreads across her face.
“All of it?”
“Well, one thing at a time.” I laugh, slapping her ass again. She moans in pleasure, and I squeeze her soft cheeks.
“What first?” she asks.
“You sure you don’t want to pick?”
“I like it when you tell me what to do,” she says, her eyes looking toward the ground.
I use a finger to draw her face back to mine. “Don’t look away when you talk to me. I can dominate you in this cabin, when we have sex—but I’m not some asshole like the men you grew up with. I like to fuck, sure, but I don’t see women as property, as things I can own. You are your own goddamned person. Got it, Harper?”
“Yeah,” she says quietly. “Got it.”
“Good. Then get on your knees and start sucking my cock.”
She does as she is told. She kneels before me and takes the hair tie from her wrist and secures it around her long blond locks. Her face is exposed and, on her knees before me, she looks as if she’s worshipping the fucking sex-god that is my cock. She dips her head forward and begins to suck my rod.
She moans as she takes me in her throat. I love the way her perfect tits move as she goes up and down. Her mouth is so warm around my cock, and I feel my veiny hardness mounting in pleasure. I feel the tip of my cock hit the back of her throat and I know she likes it rough by the way she takes me deeper and deeper.
One hand holds my ass, and the other fondles my balls as she sucks hard. She pulls my cock out of her mouth, and begins softly sucking on one ball, then the next, rubbing my shaft with her hand as she does. She is slurping on me as she sucks, and I can tell she’s really getting into it when she puts my length back in her mouth and moves a hand down to her pussy. She starts rubbing nice and hard, her moans intensifying.
“Oh, Jax, oh, oh, oh,” she screams, as her body quakes, her back arches as both her fingers move to her pussy. One hand is buried deep in her folds and the other is at the top, rubbing in circles as she gets herself off.
I love watching her come; her orgasm is a fucking thing of beauty.
She is still on her knees and when her orgasm passes, doesn’t hesitate, she pulls my thickness back in her mouth as my cock throbs, so good and ready.
“I’m gonna come all over your tits, Harper,” I tell her.
She obeys, pulling me out of her mouth and tugging softly at me as I shoot my seed across her chest. She bites back another moan as she watches my milky come cover her soft skin.
When we’re done, I go to the bathroom and get her a wet washrag. She smiles coyly as she cleans herself.
“So ... that was pretty wonderful,” she says, suppressing a yawn, unsuccessfully. We’re both undressed, and I really fucking wish I had a couch right about now, so we could sit down and I could just play with her pussy while she takes a cat nap.
“Wanna lie down upstairs?” I ask. “You look tired.”
“Sure. But then we need to talk, right?”
“Hey, honey, this afternoon delight was your idea as much as mine. We don’t have to sleep. We can talk right now if you want. I don’t really give a fuck.”
And I don’t. Not because I’m an asshole, but because during the last few months out here all alone I’ve come to understand a few things. Mainly: whatever will be will be. I’m not about to get all strung out over a woman getting pregnant. Worse things can happen.
Harper seems relieved because her shoulders droop and she lets out a deep sigh. “Let’s not talk yet. Let’s take a nap.”
So I smack her ass softly, and lead her to the loft.
HARPER
When I wake up from the nap, I see that Jax is sitting up in bed, reading something in a leather-bound notebook.
“Hey,” I say, noticing the sun has begun to set. “What time is it?” I keep the blanket wrapped around my body, still naked from this afternoon.
“After five.”
“Oh, wow. I need to be home tonight.”
“How long’s the drive to your parents’ place?”
“About three hours,” I tell him, swallowing back my nerves. I let myself stay in a sex-bubble all afternoon, but I can’t stay there forever. Eventually it is bound to pop. I need to talk this out with Jaxon. “So, I’m pregnant, Jaxon. And I don’t know what we should do.”
“What do you wanna do?” he asks me, setting down his notebook. “You’re the woman; it’s your body. You’re the boss.”
“Yeah, but it’s your baby,” I tell him, confused. Sure, I’m carrying this child, but it’s just as much Jaxon’s as it is mine. I notice him cringing slightly. “What? I mean, I’m really sorry to come here and tell you that you’re going to be a father, but it was God’s—”
“If you say this was God’s will, I’m gonna have to punch a hole in something. You’re pregnant, Harper, not carrying Jesus-fucking-Christ.”
“Well, okay,” I say, feeling flustered. “But still, I get that me coming here and telling you this is shocking … but I can’t do this alone.”
“You don’t have to do this alone,” he tells me, reaching for my hand.
Relief washes over me. “Oh, I’m so glad to hear you say that. I thought I might have to raise this baby by myself and—”
Jax cuts me off again. “Wait, you’re keeping it?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I mean, I get it, Harper—accidents happen and we never used a single fucking condom. But it’s not the end of the world. I mean, there is no way you could have this baby, you live at home. Your parents would literally kill you. And you have no life skills. I mean, honey, you’re fucking amazing in bed, but how would you support a human?”
I pull my hand away, horrified at Jax’s words. “Wait, you think I should have an abortion?”
“Well,” Jax shrugs. “I don’t know what you should do. I mean, you should do what you want to do—I just wonder how you think you’ll be able to do this on your own.”
“You said I didn’t have to be alone.” My words are filled with shock, with complete and utter disappointment.
“That’s when I thought you wanted to go to a clinic. I wouldn’t make you do that by yourself.” Jax throws his hands up, frustrated. “Look, I’m not being an ass. I’m a realist.”
“Well, I’m this baby’s mother. And I don’t know, Jaxon, I thought you’d step up to the plate, be a man. Not send me to the curb.” I stand and move for the ladder. I need to leave, now. I need to be somewhere safe, somewhere that I don’t even know exists.
“Harper, don’t go like this.” He scrambles down the ladder after me. “If you want this baby, of course I’ll help. I’m not some deadbeat. I’m just surprised, is all. You seem like the kind of girl who wants to wear white on her wedding and make babies with some God-fearing man. Not me. So, yeah, I’m a little surprised you wanna go through with this. An abortion might make more sense is all. So then later, when you have the husband and the picket fence, you can make a baby with someone you actually love.”
Tears fall down my cheeks as I dress myself. I can’t believe I let myself fantasize about living here in this cabin with Jax. He wants me to get rid of our baby. He’s not the man I thought he was. Not the man I can be with.
I thought he would know how much being a mother means to me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I watched my mother have nine children, and I witnessed the births of each one. I grew up knowing this was my calling, my destiny.
Of course this is going to be hard, a struggle. Of course this is not the dream I had for myself. But dreams change. The moment I saw a positive line on that pregnancy test, I knew that this baby was mine.
“I know I asked for your help, Jaxon, but I changed my mind. I can’t have your help if you even for a second considered not raising this child with me. I can’t be with a man like that.” I pull open the front door, just needing to leave.
“You’re being insane. Like, literally insane, Harper,” he says, coming after me. “I’m not the one running. I’m not kicking anyone to any curb. Fuck, I don’t even have a curb. I have a dirt road. Stay on this dirt road. Stay and figure this out.”
I open my car door, but before I slide in I call out to him, “I can’t stay with a man like you. Let me go and figure this out on my own. If I ever need anything, I’ll get in touch with you. But Jaxon, I won’t need your help. I won’t need you for this. I may be a woman without much life experience, but I will make up for it in love. I will be a good mother.”
I turn the ignition, grateful that the snow is long gone and that the road is clear.
I just wish I were going on an easier path.
Chapter Fourteen
JAX
After Harper leaves I chop down mother fucking trees for days. I don’t know what happened, but some animalistic insanity is going on up here in the woods. Screw those guys who are in Spartan races and shit. Give me an axe and a tree, and I’ll cut anything to the ground.
The whole time, I’m yelling at myself for being a fucking idiot. Telling a woman—a woman like Harper—that I’d go to a clinic with her? Was I just trying to be the biggest dick-wad ever to live?
Buck shows up a week later. My beard is getting mangy, and fuck showers. I’m a man living in the woods. I don’t need shit like soap.
Buck disagrees.
“Dude, you’re freaking me out.”
“What the hell do you care?” I ask, handing him a beer. We sit on stumps in the tree-graveyard I’ve created.
“Well, here’s the thing, you seem cool and all,” Buck starts, “but bro, you’re a little off your rocker. You have a plan with all this wood?”
I look around my growing piles, the heaps of timber that could sell for a pretty penny.
“What the fuck do you care?”
“You sure you’re good?” Buck takes a si
p of beer and looks off in the distance. He doesn’t seem to want to meet my eyes.
“What the fuck is this, some sort of one-man intervention?”
“Well, do you know anyone else around here? I mean, shit, I’ve Googled you, Jax. Saw you were part owner in a trucking company at one point. I don’t know, but people in town are talking. They think you’re some crazy man living in a piece of shit cabin—that you might be ....”
“Might be what?”
“Might be certifiable.”
“I’m not crazy,” I tell him.
“That’s what every crazy person says.”
“It’s complicated.” I shake my head.
“I thought you said you moved out here to avoid complications?” Buck cocks his head, rightfully questioning me.
“Look, you wanna know the truth of why I decided to fuck my life back home? I screwed the Sheriff’s daughter. He got pissed. She was barely legal, but it was pretty damn clear she’d been around the block. Still, the Sheriff pinned his daughter’s issues on me.
“I had a reputation—a big one, sure—but fuck, that girl did too. Her father screwed with our business. I cared too much about what my partner Dean and I had built. So I skipped town. It’s for the best.”
Buck nods. “Okay, well, that sucks. You were some man-whore and it bit you in the ass. But explain why you’ve been up here chopping wood all week like a goddamned lunatic?”
“I’ve been chopping wood since I moved out here.”
“Not like this. Not until your hands bleed and you look like a wild bear.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell him, finishing my beer, finished with this conversation, too.
“Get cleaned up and come into town tonight.”
“Why you always trying to get me to come out with you?”
Buck laughs. “Uh, because I have no game. But last time I went out with you, I actually got laid. I’d like to repeat that.”
I feel bad for the bastard. I’ve never had trouble finding pussy, so I can’t relate. But I can sympathize. Wanting something and not being able to have it fucking blows.
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