Page 17 of My Lumberjack Valentine

“Good girl.” He grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Take my cock. Just like that.”

I don’t know where I end and he begins. The bed creaks beneath our naked bodies, the sound mingling with my growing cries as everything starts to tremble, my pleasure reaching boiling point.

“Come for me, Rosalie.” Boone’s voice is a command, deep and powerful. “I want to feel that little pussy come on my cock.”

“Oh, God!”

“You can do it, sugar. Come for me.”

Pleasure pulses between my legs, rocketing through my whole body until my vision turns white. I tremble, crying out Boone’s name as I grab at him blindly. His rhythm turns slackand I hear him groan as his cock explodes inside me, filling me with warm cum until we’re both spent and panting.

Boone eases off me and we lie in silence for a while, tangled up in the damp sheets, limbs entwined. I rest my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he strokes my hair gently. I’m exhausted, but I can’t stop smiling.

Did that really just happen?

Did I really lose my virginity to my gorgeous fake boyfriend?

“That was incredible,” Boone says, pressing a kiss on my forehead. “You were so damn perfect, Rosalie.”

My grin widens and I snuggle closer to him. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

He chuckles. “Glad to hear it, sugar.”

“We should probably get cleaned up,” I say, stretching out.

“Good idea.”

Boone carries me to the bathroom and we take a shower, washing each other with soapy hands under the hot stream of water. Once we’re dry, Boone changes the bed sheets and we climb in together, clean and warm. The bed is so comfortable it feels like I’m floating on a cloud, and when Boone wraps his protective arms around me, I instantly feel myself starting to doze off.

“Goodnight, Boone,” I mumble, melting against him.

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

And as sleep pulls me under, one last conscious thought flits through my brain.

Whatever Boone and I have sure isn’t fake anymore.

I wakeup the next morning to the sound of birdsong and the crackle of a fireplace. Wiping sleep from my eyes, I grin to myself as the events of yesterday come rushing back to me. There’s a slight soreness between my legs, and my lips are still tender from Boone’s bruising kisses. It’s a delicious reminder of everything that happened, and I turn my head, expecting to see Boone lying beside me.

The bed is empty.

It must be later than I thought. I should be at Peak Sweets right now, opening up the store, but I don’t want to leave Boone’s cabin. I want to stay with him all day and hopefully have a few repeats of last night.

I’m buzzing with happiness as I pad into the living room, but Boone isn’t in here either. Shrugging on yesterday’s clothes, I check my phone, the date hitting me with a jolt.

Valentine’s Day!

I should definitely open the store. There will be plenty of customers looking for last-minute chocolates, even if I’d rather stay here with Boone. Once today is over, we’ll have the entire weekend to enjoy each other’s company. Heck, maybe he can even come with me to Peak Sweets today. I don’t think he’s ever been inside before, and I’d love to show him around.

My mind racing with plans, I head for the kitchen with a spring in my step, expecting to find Boone cooking breakfast. But as I approach, I hear his voice drifting from a room at the end of the hall. My heart flutters at the sound, and I head toward it, silently wondering who he’s talking to. He must be on the phone.

Then I hear something that stops me in my tracks.

“It’s not real.” Boone’s voice is low, agitated almost. “She’s just some girl I met on the street last week.”

There’s silence for a moment, but I don’t hang around to hear anymore. I feel like the breath has been knocked from my lungs.My eyes sting with tears, bile clogging my throat as I stumble back toward the living room.

Not real.

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