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This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: Mercedes Black
Woody © 2009 Mercedes Black
eXcessica publishing
All rights reserved
Woody
By Mercedes Black
Woody wasn’t surprised to see a fifty foot tree down on the road. Hurricane force winds and lightning strikes did a number on the densely forested mountains of Mount Hood. Combined with the winding twisted roads, a small rainstorm could be downright dangerous.
He recognized his neighbor from up the road. His athletic body dressed in clean white scrubs waved to him, standing outside his silver Volvo. Woody had always been friendly with all his neighbors, waving each time they passed on the roads, but he never had the opportunity to actually meet this handsome neighbor. He had been tempted, but what would he say to the man he had based many of his daytime fantasies on? Hello. I get a boner every time I see you, because you’re one of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen.
Pffft.
Yeah, right. That would go over well. If he got close to his neighbor’s devil may care eyes, he would be tempted to undo that braid the Indian always chose to restrain his hair in. He would have to touch his sun kissed skin, compare it against his own white flesh. But even that wouldn’t be enough, Woody wouldn’t want to stop until both of them were naked, and he had tasted every crevice, and plundering the young man’s bare ass.
No, it was far better to keep things on this level. A nameless friendly wave now and again. Rejection would hurt too much to risk such a forward move, and after his recent breakup with his controlling ex, it was too soon to get into anything physical right away.
Woody tried to repress that nervous tingle of excitement wound around his gut as he pulled his old rusty Chevy truck next to his neighbor’s shiny new Volvo. He loved his 1952 pickup, but it drew attention to the fact that they came from two different worlds. He was a rough around the edges kind of guy, who lugged around a pickup bed full of tools, and worked outside despite the weather. While his neighbor had a stethoscope wrapped around his neck, and worked in the heart of the city. He probably started off every day with a five dollar cup of gourmet coffee.
Well, mister drop dead gorgeous looked like he didn’t have a chainsaw in his trunk. Luckily for him, he came prepared. It was a tool of his trade. So, Woody would do this good deed of the day—drop dead gorgeous would thank him, then drive off and they would never speak to each other until next year’s storm.
Woody pushed the thoughts out of his head about keeping him here.
He gave a reluctant sigh, and turned off the ignition. The solid steel door rattled the truck body as he slammed it behind him.
“Hey there,” the oh so sexy Indian gave him a wave.
Woody instantly felt those warm butterflies in the pit of his stomach at that sultry voice—and something else. His little soldier was jumping to attention.
Down boy, he willed his member to obey This isn’t some porno where you’re the star of the show. This is real life—and in real life nothing happens.
“Hey yourself. Need a hand?”
“Yeah, but this tree is too big to move. I think we’re going to be stuck here until the city can get here to clean it up.” Jeez, he was even better looking up close. Those chocolate eyes nearly paralyzed him, locking onto his.
“You’ll be waiting a long time for them to show up. They’re going to be busy with last night’s storm. We’re lucky we don’t have power lines to worry about.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t have any power this morning. So the lines are down somewhere.”
“Yep, me too.” Woody mentally kicked himself for his lack of conversation skills. Where was his brain when he needed it? Oh yeah, that’s right. In his pants.
Woody tore his eyes off the Indian and rummaged in his truck, retrieving his chainsaw. Yanking on the starter cord, the engine whirred to life. He revved the chainsaw to be sure it was going strong before walking to the fallen tree. His mind worked quickly, mentally marking off where the safest places would be to make the cuts. It was still dangerous, the tree had been hung up by other trees on the side, so the weight of the log was dangling precariously over the road, and all that weight could kill a man if it landed on him.
He made short work of the tree, cleaning the main shaft of it’s branches. Three or four cuts to the trunk would make the pieces a little more manageable. The chainsaw whirred, grumbling as it’s blade bit into thick wood. Sawdust flew into the air before coating the asphalt road in pine scented wood chips.
“Good thing you had a chainsaw.” Tall dark and gorgeous snuck up on him, to stand directly beside him. Instant arousal hit his body. Hard.
“Yeah, I work as a lumberjack for Distinctive Timber and Mill, but you might want to—” Ugh-oh. Too late for the warning to move out of the way. A mighty crack sounded, interrupting his warning. The unmistakable sound of splitting wood.
Oh crap, and the log was shifting towards them. Without thinking, he relied on the safety measures ingrained in his instincts. Letting go of the chainsaw would be too dangerous, possibly meaning a deadly injury. A lethal mistake he couldn’t afford to make. So with one hand he wrenched the chainsaw free, and the other he pushed the Indian behind him. Protecting him from the tree falling, shielding him with his body, but that meant he couldn’t protect himself.
The wind was knocked from his chest as soon as the tree hit him. He tumbled to the ground, the massive log pinned him to the road. It’s crushing weight blanketed the lower half of his body. Shock made him release his hold on the chainsaw. He cried out in excruciating pain. A knife like stab ran along nerves from his thigh to his hip.
“Oh-my-God-oh-my-God. Are you alright?”
Woody couldn’t respond at first. He was in too much pain. His hands splayed across the bark, palms pressing the log away from him. Real men don’t cry, but it was there. A drop of salty water running down his cheek. Then he didn’t care anymore. Yeah, he was breaking down. Those were real fucking tears in his eyes.
“No effing way,” the wide eyed Indian seemed to be frozen in place.
Woody was paralyzed, too shocked to move.”
“You saved my life. Oh shit. You’re trapped aren’t you? Let me try to help you.” Woody shoved at the log while the man lifted. Together they were able to move the tree enough for Woody to roll to one side. The pain didn’t end immediately, which made it difficult to assess where his real injuries were.
Woody tried to sit up, but his neighbor stopped him with one well placed hand to his chest.
“Whoa, fella.”
“I’m okay. Really.” Woody stood up, but then the sharp pain in his lower left leg forced him to fall back on his butt.
“No you aren’t. You’re bleeding.” The Indian pointed to a spot blow his knee and sure enough, dark blood was saturating the denim material. If it was this bad, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the wound looked like. He couldn’t feel shit below his
knee except that searing pain.
Damn. He was right. Spots of dark blood was marking up his Levi’s. What a way to start the day. Twenty years of working as a lumberjack and this is how it ends? Fuck no. His boss, Jack would laugh his head off if he ever found out that Mr. I told you so ended up having a tree fall on him. A tree that was already down. How ironic was that?
“What’s your name?”
“Woody.” He half moaned, half grunted
“Well Woody,” Woody noticed his glance slipped from his face to his lap and he couldn’t help grinning,. “Ugh...Interesting name.”
“It’s short for Woodstock, but that’s not how I got the nickname.” The woody in his pocket jumped as if it had a mind of its own. Jeez, it was like his shaft didn’t care the rest of him was hurting.
The Indian took a few seconds before he could tear his eyes away from his hard-on. “My name is Dave and I am a nurse.”
As if he couldn’t tell from the scrubs he wore. Woody grinned sheepishly, but didn’t say anything.
“I need to get you to a hospital, but the road is blocked. I have some medical supplies at my house, so I want to take you there to get this checked out. Okay?”
“Nah, I’ll be okay.” Woody sad wondering how difficult it would be to crawl to his truck. He wasn’t sure if it was the Indian making him feel lightheaded or the accident, but he didn’t want to pass out somewhere and drive off the side of the mountain.
“Look, I’m not taking no for an answer. You need some help and I’m going to take care of you.”
Woody nodded. The handsome man wanted to help him, but all he really wanted were painkillers.
“Can you move your other leg?” The Indian felt Woody’s leg, for additional wounds, and then applied pressure to the spot that was bleeding.
Woody wiggled his toes, and then lifted his knee. “Yeah, my other leg isn’t hurt.”
“Do you think you can get to my car if you lean on me?”
Woody nodded silently. He would have to. Bleeding to death in the middle of the street wasn’t an option. Dave guided Woody’s hand over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around his waist. He leaned against the Indian’s shoulders, testing his good leg. Dave was stronger than he looked. Taking on quite a bit of his six foot tall, two hundred pound frame. Slowly he ambled over to the car, before Dave opened his passenger door and helped him inside.
“I want you to keep your hand on it and apply pressure to get the bleeding to stop okay.?”
Woody followed Dave’s directions obediently after securing the seat belt.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, but Woody couldn’t help feeling that nervous excitement in the pit of his stomach. Tall dark and handsome touched him.
Sure, it was in that non-sexual medical kind of way, but he felt those strong fingers touch his skin. The quiet strength that lurked beneath that clean nondescript uniform. He couldn’t stop imagining how it would feel to have Dave’s arms locked around him in a much more familiar kind of way. A lover’s embrace. Chest to chest. Arms and legs entangled.
Dave scurried around the car, opening the driver’s side and slipping inside. The car purred to life immediately. Dave pulled a u-turn and never let off the gas. Woody gripped the side of the passenger door. The drive wasn’t far but he seemed to be in a rush to get him home.
“Dave doesn’t seem like an Indian name.” He said attempting to distract himself from the hairpin curves taken at ninety miles an hour.
“My mother named me and she’s not Cherokee, or I may have ended up with a more traditional name.”
“More along the lines of Black hawk, or White tail?” Woody joked.
“Sort of.” A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“What happened to your Dad?”
“He was a drunk. They had a one night stand, and he didn’t come looking for her the next day, to know that he got her pregnant. So I was raised more white than Indian, lived in the suburbs, went to college. Just the typical America boy next door no one ever really noticed.”
“I would have noticed you,” Woody said under his breath.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing, I just can’t imagine the girls not noticing you. You have beautiful skin.”
“Thank you. I might have the Indian skin, but I after being raised by my mom, I can’t imagine being happy with life on a reservation.” The pleasant conversation was just the distraction Woody needed and a good excuse to find out some more personal information about his crush.
They arrived at Dave’s house, the gravel driveway crunched under the Volvo’s tires, until the car rolled to a stop. They went inside, the same way he got into the car, his arms draped over his Indian friend. Close enough to take in his earthly scent. Memorize every line of his angular jaw. Feel the warmth of his skin, in sharp contrast to the brisk September air.
Woody crashed on couch, clutching at his leg.
“I’m going to need to get you out of those pants s I can take a look at it.”
What he wouldn’t give to have him say that in the bedroom. This was so wrong. Woody wasn’t quite sure how to respond. If he managed to get his pants off, he would get to see a lot ore than a flesh wound. He had a hard on since he got out of his truck.
“I’m going to get some scissors so I can cut them off.”
Shock turned to dismay. “No way, these are my favorite jeans.”
“I don’t want to risk having you get hurt anymore, and until we know how bad you are I can’t help you. I didn’t want to worry you, but with this much blood you may have hit an artery.”
That sounded pretty serious. “Okay. Please make sure you get me some Advil with the rest of the first aid kit.” His stomach clenched. Dave was about to see him in his shorts. So what? He was a professional. Woody could pretend it was just another guy. Not the guy he pictured himself in bed with every night.
Dave disappeared from the room, and Woody kicked off his shoes, and slid his pants down to his ankles. Careful to touch his leg as little as possible. It still hurt when his pants hit that wound. A chunk of skin abut the size of a quarter was missing on his left lower leg. Not as bad as he thought for all the blood he lost. His dick was begging for attention, but maybe he would get lucky and Dave wouldn’t notice.
Dave frowned when he came back in the room loaded up with supplies. He handed Woody a glass of water and bottle of pills. “You shouldn’t have done that.’
“Too late now.” Woody twisted open the bottle and popped five into his mouth.
Dave set to work, cleansing the wound with antiseptic.
A hiss escaped Woody’s lips. “That burns.”
“Nearly done. I think it’s broken and you will still have to get to the hospital to get it set, but you could have been killed. Do you know how damn lucky you are?”
“Yeah,”
“I suppose I should thank you for saving my life, but you pissed me off by putting yourself in harm’s way. Why do you have to be a hero?” Dave wrapped the wound in gauze.
“You should have had the good sense to stand back like I told you.”
“You never told me to stand back.”
Woody grimaced, “I didn’t?”
“No.”
“Well that’s a mistake I won’t repeat.” Woody’s anger was flaring in response to the man’s open hostility. He didn’t expect fall down on your knees gratitude, but a little thank you would have been nice. “Oh wait, you’d think most men would know better than to walk next to a tree about to come down.”
“I’m not most men.” Dave visibly blushed but then he did something surprising and exciting to Woody. He leaned over and kissed him. Those supple full dark lips kissed him. A lightning bolt hit him hard, making every cell sensitive to the other man’s touch. His body sparked to life wanting more. He held him there, grasping the back of his neck, tangling his fingers into that thick Indian braid. Melting his lips against the Dave’s mouth. His stomach clenched powerfully with instant lust and desire.
It was pure heaven, his every fantasy come true.
Dave backed away, both men breathing heavily.
“Thank you.”
“For the kiss?”
“No, I’m not always good with words. Saving my life.”
Getting knocked over by the tree was worth it, for the kiss alone. “No problem.”
Dave’s eyes drifted back to his crotch. “I’m guessing from the size of your hard on, you didn’t get your nick name from your mom.”
Right on both counts. The monster raging in his shorts was rising to goliath proportions. Ready for action. “The boys have called me Woody ever since they found out I have a twelve inch cock.”
“Twelve inches, really? Can I see?” Dave’s eyes lit up with excitement.
Hearing the eagerness in Dave’s voice nearly made him blow his wad right then. Not trusting his voice, he nodded.
Dave’s soft fingers freed his shaft from his pants, caressing the skin from his smooth head to the round balls hanging from it’s base.
“Damn that feels good.” He moaned.
Watching the other man fondle his dick was the ultimate turn on. A pearl of clear liquid formed on the tip of his cock and the other man bent forward to lick it off. He groaned softly, and then wrapped his lips around his cock pumping him to taste more of his love juice.
But not yet, Woody wanted to do one thing before he felt the satisfaction of coming in the younger man’s mouth. He undid the Indian’s braid, allowing the black hair to spill free all over his pelvis. “This is something I always wanted to do.”
Dave groaned in response. Content to suck on his dick as if he were a human lollipop. He couldn’t hold back any longer. His body suddenly tensed then released all that sexual pent up energy. His balls tightened, his stomach clenched and he came, spurting liquid down the face of his partner.
A loud knock sounded at the front door. He felt cheated at this interruption. Startled, Woody stuffed his cock back in his drawers. “Who’s that?”
Woody Page 1
