Page 10 of Timber's Girl

But the motherfucker refused to deflate while in the same room as Lindy.

So, a shower seemed like a good idea. Something to cool me down.

I toss my clothes onto the white tile, hop into the slim stall, and turn the water to the coldest setting.

And the biting chill doesn’t do a damn thing to douse my arousal.

Damn. Shit. Fuck.

Desperate for a reprieve, no matter how much of a pervert it makes me, I soap up my body and grab my cock. It started leaking pre-cum the moment I thought of Lindy's pussy, so my dick’s already a fucking slippery mess without the soapy lubricant.

Bracing one hand on the beige wall, I imagine Lindy on her knees in front of me. Waiting to drink down everything I give her.

I stroke harder at the thought of her mouth sucking my dick. Licking it like she loves every inch of it, and my own mouth salivates thinking about her cream coating my tongue. I’d eat her out, then like a good girl, she’d return the favor—but not out of obligation, out of sheer need.

My breathing stutters as I give one more firm squeeze at that visual, and I come hard. Ropes of cum splatter the shower floor and wall as I lean against it to catch my breath.Holy hell.That was a damn sexy fantasy.

If only I can make it real some day…

Adjusting the temperature so warm water runs down my body, I wash away the evidence of my jerking off.

Then berate myself.

What the fuck am I thinking? Hell will freeze over before Lindy lets me put my hands on her curves—or my dick in her sweet mouth… or tight pussy.

Goddammit.

My cock rallies for a second round but I ignore it. I focus on roughly scrubbing myself down and getting the hell out of the shower before there’s a repeat performance.

Stop thinking about fucking Lindy.

She’s had a tough night—a tough year, to be honest.

But so have I when it comes to my girl. I’ve struggled to get her out of my head for months.

How can I ignore her now when she’s just on the other side of the door?

Warm in the bed we shared?

Easy. Remember how much you don't want to scare her off and keep your dick in your pants.

CHAPTER TEN

LINDY

Giving up on jogging my memory of last evening, I get up and head to the kitchen to see what’s available for breakfast. It’s the least I can do to thank Timber for keeping me safe in the crowd of strangers at Rust.

A white light highlights the empty refrigerator shelves aside from basic milk, eggs, butter, and a six pack of beer. The cabinets don’t offer much more except for bread and some other staple items.

“Okay… A simple breakfast it is,” I drawl, collecting the ingredients for scrambled eggs and toast. There’s one lone pan in a lower cabinet, so I start heating that up on the stove as I grab two plates. They’re mismatched plastic circles—most likely the dollar ones from WalMart.

The Reaper’s Wolves really didn’t spend much to make this a comfortable place to stay. Every guest is forced to live off the bare necessities.

Humming that song in my head, I push the sleeves of my borrowed hoodie to my elbows and whisk the eggs and milk with a fork before pouring the prepared mixture into the pan.

After they’re all fluffed and seasoned with salt and pepper I discovered in a drawer, I split the eggs on the two plates, giving Timber the majority. When I turn to toast the bread—my mindfocused on remembering the next lyrics to the old childhood song—the man in question is standing in the bathroom doorway, eyeing me curiously.

I have a slight McSteamy moment with his low-riding black sweatpants and semi-transparent white tee. Tattoos decorate most of his bulky frame, tapering down his muscular chest, and it’s a sight to behold. So much so, my gaze refuses to tear itself away from the temptation of deciphering the images beneath the flimsy cotton.

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