Lumberjacked

by Alexandria Hunt

“I see that,” she mused, her pupils growing with lust, just like that moment we’d shared in her hallway. Her hand trembled as she reached down and tentatively touched me. I drew my breath in sharply and reached up to slide my hand possessively to the back of her neck, under her hair, like a waterfall of thick curls.

  “Keep doing that and we’ll be naked before you know it,” I exhaled in a half-growl, half-whisper.

  “I wouldn’t mind that,” she grinned, wrapping her hands around my shaft through my jeans, stroking it. “In fact, I might even need it.” She moaned quietly and squeezed me to let me know how much she did need it.

  I groaned and dragged her closer to me, bent down and kissed her and let my free hand slide up and down her back, around to her front, letting ravenous hands palm her luscious breasts. I could feel her nipples razor-sharp through her shirt, and I longed to nibble them as I explored her body with my tongue.

  “Reagan! Aaron! Where are you?” Melanie’s voice traveled across the forest and echoed, seemingly all around us.

  We both froze, our lips locked and our hands all over each other’s bodies. Reality intervened, and I cursed it.

  “Guys, are you out here? Fuck, we have a show to film, and we’re losing daylight!”

  “She sure is loud when she wants to be,” I murmured against Reagan’s lips.

  “Can we pretend we couldn’t hear her?” Reagan asked breathily, and she leaned against me, pressing her body against mine. Our combined heat could have melted a glacier, our lust and love was so goddamn combustible.

  “Not here, princess,” I said in a low, teasing tone, drawing away from her lips with agonizing precision. “I couldn’t take you out here for our first time, even if we were alone.”

  “I could,” she said defiantly, looking up at me with eyes burning with pride as well as lust. “I’m not all prissy, you know, even though I’m from the city.”

  I smiled and reached up to brush the back of my hand against her soft cheek. “That’s not what I meant at all. I meant our first time is going to be fucking incredible. I want to take my time with you. I want to lay you down and taste you, breathe you in and have you in my mouth. I want to make love to you, princess. Fucking you hard against a tree in the forest? That’s the kind of thing we’ll do a few months into this. That’s the kind of thing I’ll save for a quickie when we’re gathering wood for the winter, when we’re looking for some time away from our kids. Our first time though? Damn, princess, I’ll need a weekend with you, at least.”

  She drew in a quivering breath, and her eyes widened as the fierce fire died down and turned to smoldering lust. “Oh, that sounds…well, perfect.”

  “It will be,” I whispered in her ear, nipping at it playfully, smiling as she sucked in her breath and trembled in my arms. “We should get back, though, we need to finish this stupid show, and I wouldn’t want to give Melanie a coronary.”

  She sighed and pouted, the most adorable little pout that made me want to scoop her up in my arms and take her home with me so we could take our time with each other and forget about the outside world.

  But I needed the money, so I needed to get back and finish the show. Goddamn, I hated that I needed the money, but that was the reality of my bout with reality TV…and reality sucked just then.

  “Melanie is pretty high-strung,” she admitted with a smile, and she reluctantly pulled away from me. She looked me up and down and her face still glowed from our shared kisses. I was grateful for my beard just then—I could hide my lust and emotions from Melanie with a little more success than Reagan.

  “We’re over here!” I called through the trees. I clasped Regan’s hand in my larger, warm one and walked slowly back to the reality of reality TV.

  And the reality of our lives. The money I needed and whatever Reagan needed that she was getting from this stupid project.

  Sometimes, reality sucked. It really fucking sucked.

  * * *

  “Seriously, I need you focused on this show and not on staring at Reagan like you’re both in heat,” Melanie whispered harshly to me that evening. “We need you to convince the audience that you’re falling in love with two or three of the girls, or else they’ll turn the channel. And you want to know what happens when they turn the channel?”

  “What?” I growled, glaring at her, but she wasn’t getting the hint—or if she was, she sure wasn’t backing down. Ever since she’d found us in the forest behind the mansion last week, hand in hand and obviously giddy with new love, she’d been short-tempered with me.

  Well, shorter than before. She’d never seemed to be my biggest fan since starting production, reminding me constantly that I was basically the furniture and easily replaced, but she never showed signs of following through with it.

  She did need me on some level, and I think on another level, she knew I was the focus of Reagan’s attention, and without Reagan’s attention, the show would flop. Melanie might be the on-site producer, but Reagan was still in charge, and her word was law.

  “When they turn the channel, we cease to exist,” she said with a matter-of-fact smirk. “And if we cease to exist, you don’t get your money.”

  “I was told I’d get the money on the completion of the show,” I frowned.

  “Uh yeah,” she rolled her eyes. “Completion means the final show making it to air.”

  “To air?” I exclaimed, unable to keep my voice down. “I was under the impression I’d get paid after the finale was filmed!”

  “Is that what this is about for you? The money?” she asked, tilting her head disapprovingly. Melanie hadn’t bothered me at all back in LA. She’d just been Reagan’s funny little sidekick, but the stress of handling part of the show was turning her into a grade-A bitch.

  “No, it’s not just about the money,” I replied. “But why else would I have agreed to this? You’re not a charity, and I’m not that generous.”

  “You agreed to this because you have the hots for Reagan. That much is pretty flipping obvious, and if you don’t suck it up and pull yourself together, we’re not going to have a show. Okay?”

  “Fine,” I replied and glared at her. I hated the fact that she was right—I was here because of the money, but also because of Reagan. And I needed that goddamned money, she had me over a barrel there too.

  And let’s face it, I was mooning over Reagan like a twelve-year-old boy with his first crush.

  “All right, get back out there and make that girl feel like she’s going to be the winner,” Melanie said with a broad smile as she followed me out to the wide deck overlooking the expansive backyard. Reagan was there, and she raised her eyebrows curiously. I shrugged and sat down on the outdoor swing with the girl in question.

  Tiffany. Or Mickey. Or was this Tawny? Dammit, they all blended together into one, but I had to get this date finished and film one more axe ceremony before the night was done.

  I leaned in, forcing myself to ignore Reagan’s burning gaze, and took the girl in my arms.

  In this scene, we were to appear as though we were whispering sweet nothings to one another and falling in love.

  All I could think about was Reagan, though. My mind drew a blank, and I held the girl close and told her the only thing I could come up with.

  My grocery list. “Eggs, milk, grout for the downstairs shower, bread, and some of those crunchy ginger cookies I like.”

  She giggled and played her part well, leaning into me and melting herself against my body. She replied with some nonsensical chicken salad recipe back to me, and we culminated our scene with a deep, passionate kiss…that felt so wrong I wanted to shove her off me right then and there.

  I was in this too deep, though, and as tough as it was, I needed to finish the show.

  When Melanie yelled cut and we were finally able to break apart, my eyes immediately scanned the crew for Reagan.

  She was gone.

  13

  REAGAN

  I knew I was an idiot the moment Melanie directed Aaron to kiss
the girl, Tawny. Long, lean, and gorgeous, she was yet another one who made me look like a little troll doll in comparison and was surely using this show to jumpstart her career in modeling or acting or something glamourous and cut off to somebody like me.

  When he kissed her, though, I had to leave. I was an idiot for thinking I could keep my professional side separate from my personal side, but the moment his lips touched hers, I wanted to jump in there and scream at her to stay away from my man as if I were a contestant.

  And that wasn’t me at all. Even when I was dating Nick, who garnered attention from women and men every place we went, I never felt possessive. I didn’t really mind him getting attention, it drew it away from me, and I could happily live in the background.

  But with Aaron, it was driving me insane the way Tawny’s perfectly manicured fingers brushed against his beard, the way her lips parted when Aaron dipped his head to kiss her, and the flash of her little tongue darting into his mouth was like a nuclear explosion going off in my head.

  I stormed back to the editing room, slammed the door shut and screamed into my sweater. It got some of the pent-up tension out of me, but I felt like pacing up and down the hall while drinking wine and eating chocolate. God, I was drinking and stuffing my feelings down.

  This was not like me.

  At all.

  I flopped into one of the office chairs in front of the bank of monitors our production team had set up, and I started reviewing the tape from earlier.

  I hit slow motion on Aaron in the hot tub, and my heart skipped a beat at the moment I saw him give up, at the smoldering looks he’d been giving me, and the second he jumped from the tub and stormed off.

  I hadn’t caught the full extent of it the first time, but it seemed as though his heart was in the same bizarre throes of desire that mine was going through.

  So I wasn’t alone in this, but that didn’t seem to help matters that much. I had to finish this show, and it had to be a success, there was no way around that. For both me and Aaron. I was between the old rock and hard place and couldn’t let an unrealistic crush destroy my chances at redemption, both in the studio’s and my father’s eyes.

  And yet my heart flipped around like a fish out of water every time I even glanced at Aaron’s face frozen on the monitors. I felt it quivering in my chest as if it were unable to right itself and keep beating rhythmically.

  Was this love? This loss of control? The loss of self? The loss of rational thought?

  I shook my head silently and laughed to myself. Of course it wasn’t love, it was hormones and lust pent up too long, and how could it possibly be love? I hadn’t known Aaron long enough to establish the trust and connection necessary for actual love. I could fool myself like a schoolgirl, with my heart pounding and my knees going weak whenever I was around him.

  And I could convince myself of love when his lips touched mine and his arms held me close to his muscled body, but the reality of it was that this simply couldn’t be love.

  I’d let myself entertain the idea of lust at best, and maybe once I had a quick tumble with him, I could get over this overwhelming ache that seemed to inhabit my body.

  But love?

  I scoffed to myself and leaned in toward the monitor, forcing myself to look at him and not react.

  That was impossible though; I must have been hornier than I thought.

  And that was also the state Melanie found me in when she burst into the room a while later.

  “Seriously?” she snorted. “The two of you are pathetic, could you just fuck him and get it over with before you both spontaneously combust while I’m trying to get a show finished?”

  “I’m just…shit, I don’t know, I think I’m hormonal or something. But he looks really good to me right now,” I told her.

  “Uh, yeah, he looks good to every damn woman in America right now, based on the promos we’ve been airing and advertising on social media. I think this is more, though, you’re never this disconnected when it comes to guys. But the long and short of it is that we have to get this show done, and we only have a week to do it.”

  “I know, for real, I know. I think I miss Tiger or something, it’s ridiculous how much Aaron’s gotten under my skin.”

  Melanie had been my best friend for so long that there was no point hiding my feelings from her. She probably knew I was into Aaron before I did.

  “You’re not blaming your dog for being all horny over America’s hottest bachelor, are you?” she laughed. “It’s normal, you guys can do it like wild monkeys and I’ll back you on it the whole way…I just need you to keep your head on straight until we wrap this up, can you do that?”

  “Why are you making so much sense?” I smiled. “And yeah, sounds like a plan.”

  “I’m making so much sense because my career is on the line here, too. And don’t worry, I’ve talked to Aaron about it.”

  “You’re not completely bitchy with him, are you?” I asked, a little worried that Melanie would run him off with her brusque behaviour.

  “Uh, not completely,” she chuckled. “Now let’s get back to this show. We have way too much to cover tonight.”

  * * *

  Melanie was a slave driver, but I was grateful to her for keeping my mind on track. I had pretty much convinced myself that I was being a fool over Aaron by the time we finished up just after midnight.

  She was my rock and my anchor, and she’d been able to keep me on track and grounded in reality.

  And I parted from her in the hallway feeling confident that I’d managed to put all my conflicting emotions about Aaron safely on the shelf.

  I was humming happily to myself as I made my way down the back hallway to what had once been used as the servant’s quarters when I was struck with the urge to see him.

  How could he have this kind of power over me even when I’d convinced myself that there was nothing between us?

  I paused before reaching my door, wondering if Aaron were awake. He was just a couple floors away on the other side of the house, but we’d installed cameras to catch any night-time hook ups. Ironic that I might be the one caught on film if I gave into my urges right then.

  I took a step toward my door, felt a sweeping wave of desire shudder through me, and turned on my heel, intent to get to Aaron’s room.

  I walked to the end of the hall, turned the corner, and ran smack dab into his muscled, open arms.

  “Reagan,” he hissed, surprised. “What are you doing?”

  “What are you doing?” I asked, my heart fluttering from fear and excitement.

  “I was looking for you,” he whispered. The hallway was darkened, and the rooms around us were silent.

  “I was looking for you,” I laughed softly.

  “There are cameras at my room, though,” he said, holding me against him.

  “I wasn’t too worried, I could have just edited me out.”

  “But the crew would have seen.”

  “That’s true,” I sighed. “I have none set up on this end of the house, though.”

  I looked up at him in the dim light and caught his eyes. We locked our gaze on each other, and my intent was clear.

  “That’s a good thing,” Aaron replied, lifting his hand to my cheek and stroked it, his rough fingers making me shiver with delight.

  “Come back to my room,” I said, taking his hand and turning away. His resistance was nonexistent, and we walked silently back down the hall to our little secure space. I had no idea what my intention was, but I knew I wanted to find out.

  Once inside, our hands were all over each other, our mouths clashed and our tongues entwined in our hot need. “Fuck, Reagan,” he growled against my lips, “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since I kissed you. I wanted to feel you like this and taste you like this.”

  His hands slid down the front of me and wound up under my shirt. He lifted it and ran his hands over my breasts through my bra.

  I was wearing an old stretched-out over-washed one wit
h a safety pin in the corner holding the strap on the cup. It used to be bright pink, but was now faded to a dull grey.

  But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. My granny panties and comfy yoga pants were insignificant in the face of us finally being together after a week of trying to forget about what had happened in the forest that day.

  I breathed in and got drunk on his scent, on the entire sensory experience of being in his arms and alone at last. He smelled like the woods, fresh and powerful, and he felt strong, as if he could lift me up over his shoulder and carry me to his house. His beard tickled, but I loved it—it made him masculine and gruff, unlike Nick’s carefully maintained skin that was usually softer than mine.

  There was no doubt that Aaron was all man, and that made me feel feminine and beautiful somehow.

  He kissed me harder and lifted me slowly against him. My legs curled around his hips, and he held me there, with us kissing and tightly pressed against each other until my entire head was filled with Aaron Remington and nothing else.

  I wanted to feel more of him. The urge filled me and I need it like nothing else. I wiggled out of his embrace and dropped to the floor, looked up at him, and boldly began to unbutton the front of his shirt.

  “I won’t have sex with you,” he told me with the utmost sincerity. “Not like this, Reagan. Not like we’re sneaking around.”

  “I don’t want sex,” I lied as I continued to unbutton him. “I want to see you, I want to touch you. That’s all.”

  “Oh god, princess, if that was all then we wouldn’t be wound up so goddamned tight. I think we both know what we really want.”

  “What’s that?” I asked teasingly, pulling his shirt apart at last. His muscular chest was incredible, it shone in the light of the single lamp on the bedside table. He had a light dusting of fine hair growing across his pecs and a trail leading down to the waistband of his pants that almost begged me to follow it.

  “You know what it is,” he said in a low, thick voice. “We want to fuck, princess, we want to explore each other, taste each other, make each other moan. And we’re going to, God mark my words, I’m going to drink you deep and make you mine…but not like this. Fuck, not like this…”