Page 5 of Hard Wood Daddy

His masculinity breaks over me like an awakening to my inner goddess. A goddess I didn’t realize I had until this instant.

My lower body clenches and releases in a spasmic rhythm. Some inner boundary opens wide for him. A part of me that instinctively wants to submit, to surrender.

Once our eyes make contact, I feel an electric jolt of certainty.

This guy is the Sasquatch I glimpsed behind the sign, and he’s making a hard beeline toward the truck.

He followed us up the road. Which means he was matching the speed of a truck up a mountainside.

I can’t shake the feeling he’s come for me.

The idea should be a little scary. I’m already running from one man, and this one is so much more impressive than Don Patron. Don could never dream of growing such a beard. Sasquatch’s shoulder-length, nearly black hair is wildlyunkempt, but it’s as clean as though he just came lumbering out of the river freshly-bathed.

And for some reason, as I step out and clutch Frida to my chest, I’m not scared.

The longer he looks at me, the faster my heart pumps and the tighter my nipples get.

Piercing blue eyes glare out from under a strong brow. With such dark hair, the light eyes and golden-tanned skin are striking. He’s more like a spirit of the wilderness than Sasquatch.

“Rutger!” Lindsay sings in a non-terrified voice, which reinforces my instinct that this man is not to be feared. She climbs out of the truck with a creak and metallic slam of the door behind her, giving a name to this looming man-beast.

His jeans are a little too snug for him, or else he’s packing a cock like a baseball bat, curling up toward his right hip.

Oh my gosh, Tess. Don’t look at his dick!

But it’s darn near impossible not to look, and my mouth is watering, and I’m thinking about how big he is. I’m like a little doll next to him. He could throw me around—up against a wall, bent over the bathroom counter, slung under his arm to be carried off to his cave. My need to pee a distant memory as my virgin pussy starts leaking for a different reason.

Things are getting wet.

Wetter.

God, so wet.

Did that thing inside his jeans just get pulse?

“This is our new all-bodies-are-beautiful figure model, Francesca. Also known as Tess,” says Lindsay with a wink my way. “Tess, this is Rutger. He owns the land here. Do you mind if I take a minute to talk with him? Then I’ll take you to your cabin so you can get settled. Frida too.”

I think I nod in acknowledgment, but I’m trapped by Rutger’s gaze. It’s like Lindsay, the plein air class, the whole forest has just vanished.

He’s looking at me. Licking his lips. Snarling on an inhale.

“You okay?” Lindsay cocks her head with a slight squint.

“Buh,” I say. “Uff.”

Total nonsense.

Lindsay leaves me in my brainless stupor, stepping aside as she talks to Rutger in hushed tones. He barely looks away from me while they converse, although I’m aware enough that I hear something about a lease. Paperwork. Reading. Signatures.

Bulging arm veins. Huge biceps. Thighs like tree trunks. Cocks like—

Time is meaningless when I’m looking at him, swirling through obscene thoughts, trying to decide if I could fit his cock into my mouth, or anywhere else.

I’m so small compared to him. It’s an unusual sensation.

I like it.

A. Lot.

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