Page 15 of Praise Me: Lumberjack
A combination I don’t even have myself.
All of it. All of Penn Holland.
There is no end to what I’ll give him if he lets me.
We reach the house, and he carries Erin inside, holding the door with his back so I can follow him in. Kissing me on the forehead as I pass. I take in the sweeping, open plan cabin, the rustic décor, the cozy stone fireplace and the finger paintings on the refrigerator. It couldn’t suit the man better. It’s Penn in the form of a house and therefore, it’s magical.
“My bedroom is upstairs, if you want to wait for me there. Erin’s is downstairs.” He jerks his chin. “I’ll just go tuck her in.”
“Okay,” I whisper, watching him carry Erin to the rear of the lower floor, before I slowly make my way up the stairs, turning down a short hallway and ending up in the most masculine master bedroom I’ve ever beheld. Grays and blacks and forest green. A heavy rug and a gigantic four-poster bed. A cedar chest at the foot of that bed, a desk tucked into the corner. Untied boots, size one million, resting on the ground. His closet door is ajar enough to see an endless array of flannel. It smells like him.
I’m in heaven.
With a quiet giggle, I take a flying leap and land in the center of the bed, doing a snow angel on the soft, greencomforter, squeaking when Penn’s deep voice reaches me from the doorway.
“Again, I ask. You planning on being this fucking cute all night?”
I roll over onto my tummy and prop my chin on a fist. “I still haven’t decided.”
He takes a long, heavy breath. “My god, you’re a beautiful sight, Jenna Fairchild.”
There’s an ominous surge into of me, like maybe my heart has tipped over and spilled its contents. “Thank you,” I manage, rising onto all fours and slowly crawling to the edge of the bed where he meets me for deeply emotional kiss that shakes me to my core. “Will you cuddle with me?” I murmur against his mouth.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
Penn goes to work on his buttons for the second time tonight. “Ooh!” I bound off the bed, carried by the buoyancy he gives me. “Can I undress you?”
Even in the muted lamplight, I can see the tops of his ears turn red. “Sure, baby. Although…I’d rather just get my giant ass under the covers as quickly as possible.”
“Not me.” I slide my hands up the front of his flannel, shaking my hair back dramatically. “I want to marvel over you.”
His chuckle is low and warm. “Fair is fair, I guess. I never stop marveling over you.”
“Mmm.”We should get married, I almost blurt. It’s what my heart wants to say. “I’m going to take my time, if that’s okay with you.”
“When you’re with me, you do whatever you goddamn please, Jenna.”
I press my face between his pecs and inhale with gusto. “Thank goodness I left my phone back at the trailer. I’m sure Dustin is blowing it up right now.”
“Why?”
“Why?” I begin the slow journey of undoing the buttons on his flannel, starting beneath the notch in his throat. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but a six-foot-six lumberjack kidnapped me from a bar earlier this evening.”
“Six foot seven,” he grumbles.
“I stand corrected.” I have three buttons open now and I lean in to kiss his forest of chest hair, recalling how it felt to be pinned down beneath that thick pelt, the broad patch of coarse hair abrading my nipples while he moaned hoarsely, driving himself between my legs. “I hope...you won’t be upset when the internet gets a hold of the story. There could already be leaked video from the bar circulating. Tabloids trying to track down your identity and speculate if you’re my new boyfriend or just a one-night stand…”
He makes a low-pitched sound when I use the word “boyfriend.” After that, the word drops between us like a heavy wrench and we meet each other’s eyes momentarily, searching. How does this end? I desperately want to ask him, but I don’t want to ruin our night. Especially if it’s the only one we’ll have together. “Maybe it’s a good thing if we end up on the internet.”
“It’snevera good thing. Why would you think that?”
“When you see what the public has to say about this, you’ll come to your senses.”
I pause in the act of tugging his flannel out of his denim waistband. “What the public has to say about what?”
“The differences between you and me. Our ages, how different we look…”
I’ve repeatedly told Penn that I find him wildly attractive, but my reassurances aren’t working, are they? I’ll have to take a different tack. “No doubt they would rather see me with a lead singer with a big pile of hair on top of his head, but none on his chest. Or maybe a prima donna co-star who I secretly loathe butis excellent for my career.” I circle around behind Penn and drag the flannel off his giant shoulders, and I go to work, planting open-mouthed kisses all over the warm strength of his back, tracing muscles with my tongue.
