Timber

by Remy Blake

  Kneeling on a kitchen chair I’d watch intently as she placed the crust in the pie pan and then trimmed the excess dough off the edges. We’d add whatever filling she’d decided on and then repeat the same steps with the top crust. Whatever dough was leftover she’d let me play with. We’d add food coloring and it would be better than any Play-Doh we could buy in the store.

  Gram isn’t with me anymore, but every time I make a pie I imagine her looking over my shoulder, instructing me and patting my back when I get it right.

  My arms no longer get tired as I roll out the crust, but the monotonous motion is relaxing for me. The rolling pin I’m using now might be state of the art and the best money can buy, but I’d rather be using Gram’s. Adding more flour, I gently push down and keep the motion smooth as I stretch the dough out to the right size. Sybil, meows, rubbing against my leg as if to remind me she’s here. “Hey, pretty girl, what kind of mischief have you been up to today?” Her only answer is a deep purr as she presses the top of her head to my calf.

  My thoughts wander to Lucy and I long for her to be here with me. Making a pie with her would be a sensual experience. Imagining her in a red thong, my flour covered handprints on her ass, has me all worked up. She’d look so mouth watering, I wouldn’t be able to wait to have her. I’d spread her out on the kitchen counter and move right on to dessert.

  By the time I slip the cherry pie into the oven, my dick is hard as rock and I’m hopeful about Lucy and I finding the time to get together soon. I hope she’s missing me as much as I’m missing her.

  Working full time and training for a lumberjack competition don’t really go hand in hand. Especially when my work takes up most of each day. Something has to give, and unfortunately, it’s the amount of time I can dedicate to training for this championship. I’m not really too concerned about it. If I have to drop one of the balls I’m juggling, I’d prefer that be the one.

  “What’s this about you telling Cam my dick isn’t impressive?” Chase storms into my home gym.

  I chuckle in response and keep running at a decent clip on the treadmill. “Why’d you say that? My dick is impressive as fuck,” he informs.

  “I’ll take your word for it, buddy.” I flick a glance in his direction and laugh at the scowl on his face. “Do you really want Cam thinking about your ‘impressive dick’?’”

  “No, but…”

  “No, but your enormous ego can’t take it if someone doesn’t think you’re walking around with a third leg?” I question, cutting him off.

  He grins. “I never said it was that big.”

  “How’ve you been?” I ask, changing the subject. I don’t want to talk about Chase’s dick anymore.

  “Good. Busy as fuck, though. I’ve got this new account and the CEO is a ball busting woman. She’s running me ragged.”

  “Is that a hint of respect I hear in your tone?”

  He presses his lips together while he thinks about my question. “Maybe. I can’t say I’ve ever met anyone like her before.”

  “Different is good, bro.”

  “You sound like you’re speaking from experience. Does this mean you gave the Timber thing a try?”

  Slowing down the speed on the treadmill, I settle into an easy jog and catch my breath. “Yeah, I met someone on there.”

  “I knew it,” he shouts, pointing at me. “Mr. ‘I don’t want to be in a relationship,’ are you now in one?”

  Raking my teeth over my bottom lip, I think about how to label what Lucy and I are. “I’m not sure what we’re in. She’s cautious and I’m crazy about her. We’ll need to see how it all plays out.”

  “Good for you, man. I’m happy that you’re putting yourself out there.”

  “What about you? When are you going to ‘put yourself out there’?”

  “Don’t turn my own words on me, dude.” He smirks as he steps onto the treadmill next to mine. Typing in the necessary information, he remains quiet until he’s finished. Once he’s walking at a fast pace he resumes the conversation. “How’s the sex?”

  “We haven’t had any yet.”

  “What are you waiting for, dude?”

  “I’m interested in more than sex from this girl. She might be the perfect woman for me.”

  “Well, you won’t know if she is until you bang her.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. What if she sucks in bed?”

  “I’m hoping she will,” I jest.

  “Okay, you got me there.”

  “Lucy is sexy and we have mad chemistry.”

  “Lucy, huh? Cute name. Chemistry is great, but that doesn’t mean she won’t be lame in bed.”

  “Chase, there’s nothing lame about this girl, trust me.” Every time I think about her I find myself smiling and longing for her company. We need to find a way to make our schedules more compatible. Talking on the phone and texting is great, but nothing is a substitute for being in her company.

  13

  Lucy

  “Why are you smiling like a goofball?” Avery asks.

  “I didn’t know smiling was off limits when you were around.”

  “Smiling isn’t off limits, I’m just not used to you doing it?”

  I should be offended at how she perceives me, but unfortunately she’s right, and I am in too much of a good mood to care. Playing coy, I smile again, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Wes,” she calls out through the kitchen window. His head bobs up from the pool, where he and Jeremiah have been playing for the last hour. “When was the last time Lucy smiled?”

  “You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

  “Everything okay?” Wes asks, popping his wet head through the glass sliding door.

  “Yes. I was just complimenting Lucy on her new ability to smile.” His head whips between the both of us, Ave’s dramatic antics, something we are very used to. “Wes and I just want to know why, so we can smile with you too.”

  “Is that right, Wes?”

  “Don’t bring me into this sister stuff, Jer is waiting for me in the pool.” I raise my eyebrow at him. He might be dating my sister, but he’s still my best friend and I know he might not put on the dog and pony show like Avery, but it won’t be long before he corners me for the truth.

  “Fine. When I finally know what she’s hiding, I won’t tell you,” she huffs.

  “There’s nothing to tell, Ave. Give it up.”

  Everyday Magnus’ name is on the tip of my tongue, wanting to geek out about him, like a schoolgirl with a crush. Ever since meeting him, spending time with him, and kissing him, he has made sure there is no chance I can forget he exists. He texts me daily and insists I call him before going to bed to tell him about my day. Somehow he’s managed to weave himself into my daily routine, insisting on becoming some sort of fixture. He’s adorable, he’s considerate and when I let myself admit how much I enjoy his attention, it terrifies the shit out of me.

  It’s supposed to be just sex, the only problem is we haven’t had any. Magnus is the essence of hard work, earning every single dollar to his name and I’m juggling four lives on my small, narrow shoulders. I keep telling myself we’re busy, but the truth is I’m scared. I’m afraid of what this newfound comfort and emotional intimacy between us means, and how it will influence the way I feel after we have sex. So, like any grown woman would do, I’m making any excuse to avoid meeting up with him.

  “Leave your sister alone, Avery. She’ll tell you when she’s good and ready.”

  “Mom,” we both say, surprised she’s standing with us in the kitchen.

  “Mom, I would’ve helped you walk in here if you needed to get up,” I scold.

  “You will do no such thing. How am I supposed to get better if you do everything for me.”

  Mom has been home for a few months now and she’s bitched and moaned about not being in her own home here every step of the way. But I’ll take it, having her, Avery and Jeremiah under my roof has my heart bursting
with so much love and contentment.

  Walking to mom, Avery subtly slips her arm around her waist, guiding her to the dining table. “Has she told you why she’s so happy?”

  “Avery, leave your sister alone. It’s your nosiness that makes her keep her cards close. When she’s ready she’ll tell you whatever’s going on in her life.” Slowly lowering herself to the wooden chair, my eyes scan her face for any signs of discomfort, while Avery gives me a thumbs up from behind. We’re like a well oiled machine, Avery and I, making sure not to give mom any reason to want to move out.

  “I’m going to pull J and Wes out of the pool, and get the little guy ready for bed,” I announce.

  “Yeah, tell my big guy I’m ready for bed too.”

  “Yukkk,” I whine, as mom bursts out laughing.

  “If I was sleeping with Wes, I would tell everyone too.”

  They both chuckle while I cringe at their humor “I don’t know which one of you is worse.”

  Closing my bedroom door, I lean my head back on the solid wood and sigh in relief that everyone else’s in bed. Finally able to have some time to myself, I pull my cell out of my pocket and re read Magnus’ last message.

  Magnus Andersen: Don’t forget to call me before you go to bed, I don’t care how late it is.

  Pressing the call button, I pinch my bottom lip between my finger and thumb waiting for him to answer.

  “Hey,” he says in greeting. His voice is rough and hoarse, I’m almost certain he was asleep.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “I was just resting my eyes.”

  A light laugh escapes my mouth. “We can talk tomorrow, you know? We don’t have to talk everyday.”

  “Firstly, I know we can talk tomorrow and we will talk tomorrow, but I like hearing your voice every day. Especially before I sleep.” His admission amplifies the waves of anxiety rolling around in my stomach. He wasn’t joking when he said he never lies, which means he never misses a chance to tell me how he really feels.

  “How was your day?” Resting the phone in between my ear and shoulder, I try to discreetly change out of my clothes and into my pajamas. Magnus isn’t the only one who loves talking right before bed.

  As he rattles off his annoyance at Cam for overbooking his schedule, I begin undoing the button of my jeans first. Pulling down the short zip, I slide the tight denim over my ass and down my thighs. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I drag the rest of the material off my legs. “Why don’t you start practicing how to say no,” I suggest.

  “It’s not my strong suit, and it makes me feel ungrateful for the opportunities I have.”

  As I drag my arm out of the sleeve, the phone falls with a big thump on the floor, “shit.”

  With half my body undressed, I survey my options and quickly take off my shirt before picking up the phone.

  “Are you okay?” His concerned voice gets closer as I raise the phone to my ear.

  “Sorry. I dropped my phone while trying to change into something more comfy,” I explain.

  “You were changing while we were talking?”

  “Why do you sound surprised? A woman can multitask.” Deciding to put him on speakerphone, I grab my shorts off my nightstand and step into them.

  “I’m not surprised, I’m intrigued. What are you wearing now?”

  His question bounces off my bedroom walls and my paranoia has me lowering the volume on my phone immediately. “Is that your tactful way of asking if I’m naked?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Well, I just put my shorts on,” I reveal.

  “Want to get back out of them?”

  “Are you propositioning me for phone sex?” Against my better judgement, my voice takes on a flirtatious tone.

  “If we can’t work out time in our insane schedules, this might be the only sex we ever have.”

  An unexpected beep sounds through my phone, “what’s that?” Magnus asks.

  My screen flashes with an unknown number. “Someone is trying to call me, it must be a wrong number.”

  “It better be a wrong number.” His irritation is impossible to ignore, “I don’t want you to be talking to anyone else but me.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Do you want to be talking to someone else?” Our conversations always find themselves here, down the inadvertent path of somehow having to turn what we have into something official, or more exclusive than I originally planned.

  “Weren’t we just about to have phone sex?”

  “Don’t distract me,” he chides.

  “Magnus.”

  “I know. I know. It’s just sex.” The disconnect between his words and his thoughts is obvious. His attempt to appease me, only makes me feel worse.

  “But it’s only just non-existent sex with you.” I say trying to lighten the mood, “how about we finally agree on a time to make it happen?”

  His sexy chuckle sounds through the phone, “I have to give it to you Lady Luc, you sure are determined to change the conversation around.”

  “What can I say?” I quip. “I have skills.”

  “I’m sure you have plenty. So, when is this sex date happening? Because I’m sitting here hard as a rock thinking about you changing.”

  “Really?”

  “Why are you always so shocked? Yes. I’m impossibly hard.” His voice deepens and there’s no mistaking the direction of this phone call. “Are you still wearing your shorts?”

  “And a bra.”

  “Want to take those shorts off?” His question is more of a command, and I find myself giddy with excitement at the thought.

  “Are we really doing this?” I whisper.

  “My dick says yes.”

  “Well, if the dick has spoken.” Throwing my legs off the bed, I get up and walk toward the bedroom door. “Give me a second while I flick over the lock. Last time I masturbated Jeremiah walked in just as I finished. It was one of the worst experiences of my life.”

  “You were touching yourself?”

  “There was more to that story, was that all you heard?”

  “Yes. You said masturbated and I imagined your hands down your pants.”

  Letting myself fall back on the bed, I scoot to the middle and get comfortable. “Well, your imagination is on point.” I say teasing him. “That’s exactly what happened.”

  “Fuck, Lucy. Do it now,” he commands.

  “Do what?” I challenge, bashfully.

  “Touch yourself. Close your eyes and remember what it was like to have your pussy grinding up and down my hard cock.” I whimper at the reminder, “Now imagine what would’ve happened if we hadn’t been interrupted.” A thrill courses through my veins, my heart throbbing in sync with my clit. “Imagine my fingers sneaking into the front of your pants.” Slipping my hand into my panties, the visual he’s creating at the forefront of my mind. My fingers orbit around my bundle of nerves, and my breath hitches at the contact. “Are you wet?”

  Inaudible noises leave my mouth in response, unable to formulate coherent sentences. Any reservations I had about this being awkward, or my inexperience coming to the surface is pushed to the back of my mind.

  “I want to hear you say it,” he demands.

  “Yes. Yes, I’m wet,” I pant.

  His hiss of restraint reverberates through the phone, the image of him using every ounce of control, has my orgasm skirting on the edge. “Now imagine my fingers are yours, spreading you apart, getting you ready for my mouth.” My movements quicken as his voice fills up every empty corner of my room. “Now feel me lick every inch of your pussy, as my fingers fuck you hard and fast.”

  Wrapped up in a shroud of lust my body vibrates as his words pulsate through my veins. “Magnus,” I cry out. “I’m so close.”

  “Fuck, baby. You’re killing me,” he growls. “I can’t wait to have you here, to touch you and taste you. I need your hand stroking me instead of my own.” I feel the pit of my stomach tighten at the desperation in his voice, mixed with the images of his
large hands pumping his thick cock and there’s no turning back. “Come for me.” A loud moan leaves my mouth, and my legs stiffen. His request lures my orgasm out into the open, leaving a relaxed, limp body in its wake.

  “Are you still there?” Magnus’ voice pulls me out of my euphoric state, bringing me back to reality.

  “I can’t believe I just did that,” I whisper into the empty room. “Did we just do that?” I ask, finding my voice.

  “Yeah, we did and it was fucking amazing,” he boasts. “Wasn’t it?”

  “It was. It definitely was,” I repeat with conviction.

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “I think I’m just in post orgasmic shock.”

  He laughs. “Is that a thing?”

  “It is now.”

  “If you say so, LadyLuc.” I smile at his use of my Timber username, affection and warmth the only thing I hear. “I want you to do me a favor tomorrow, okay?”

  “Of course,” I respond with no hesitation.

  “Make time for us,” he implores.

  “I will.”

  “Good, because the next time I see you I want you in my bed, screaming my name. Got it?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  “Night, Lucy.”

  “Goodnight, Magnus.”

  14

  Magnus

  Glancing around the kitchen one more time, I make sure all the counters are free of crumbs and everything is put away. Tiffany, my housekeeper, was here earlier today, but I made myself some dinner and I tend to be like a hurricane whirling through the kitchen leaving destruction in my wake. It’s easier to just clean up as I go instead of putting it off for later or even the next day.