I gesture in front of me and back up. “Okay, you’re gonna do it now.”
“I am?”
“You are,” I assure her. “Lean up against the machine and guide the wood through. Once it’s free, I’ll bring it back and you can push it through again.”
“Sounds easy.” She shrugs, leaning against the wide table.
I reach over her and turn on the safety then hit the start button to fire up the machine. Olivia startles as the table comes to life and vibrates gently. It’s a smooth, deep, and steady hum, and I fucking love the sound.
“I’ll help you get started.” I lift up the two-foot-wide by six-foot-long board, deciding which side to smooth out, then lay it flat in front of her. She places her hands on the board, and I rest mine behind hers, as we begin to push it through the machine.
Olivia presses further into the table, holding the board in front of her.
“Don’t be afraid of it,” I say, low in her ear. “You’re the boss.”
She nods and continues to work the wood. Once it’s halfway through the machine, I make my way down to the other end of the table, ready to grab the finished product. I bring it back to Olivia.
“See how much better this looks already?” I ask, flipping it over to show her how the new wood compares to the rough side. She nods before moving back into position. Standing just behind, I steady the wood as my arms reach around her.
Everything about this turns me on. Our proximity, her eagerness to learn, the combined scent of her and the wood.Everything.
As we begin to push the wood through again, a tiny whimper escapes her lips and at first I worry she’s hurt. But when I look down to see her bottom lip between her teeth, I realize she’s fine.More than fine.Apparently, I might not be the only one turned on by woodworking.
But it takes me a second to understandwhyshe’s worked up. The height of this table is perfectly lined up with her body. Right against her needy little pussy. But Olivia doesn’t back away. Instead, she leans into it more.
“That’s it, nice and slow.”
I breathe in her sweet-smelling skin. Her soft neck is just below my lips and the brush of her hair against my jawline begs me to lose my fingers in it. The steady purr of the planer is like background music as the heat from her body radiates to mine.
“Like this?” she asks, almost breathless, as we push the piece of wood through the planer.
“Perfect,” I tell her as the last of it disappears through to the other side. I’m rock-fucking-solid right now and I’m planing wood.
Olivia’s practically panting as she presses up against the vibration until her hips rock back and her ass grazes my hardened cock. At the movement, her lips part and a soft moan escapes her, barely audible under the hum of the planer. I could withstand it if I thought it was accidental, but when she grips the sides of the table and her head falls back, my control snaps and I’m spinning her around, lifting her body up so she’s sitting on the table as I turn the machine off. Olivia tosses her safety glasses to the floor—just as eager as I am—and I press my body against hers. She moans as I slide my hands up to cage her face with them, hovering my lips just above hers.
“I just … This damn table istorture,” she pants out.
I stop dead in my tracks withthatword and the question I see in her eyes.Torture.
It’s like a sucker punch to the gut. A trigger.What the fuck am I doing?
Images of torture—real torture at the hands of my father—flash through my mind. I squeeze my eyes shut to dispel them. But they don’t disappear, and I’m listening to my mom’s screams once again. They’re the last straw as I fight this witheverythingin me.
“Fuck. I’m sorry …” I grit out as I let her pretty face go.
“No,I’msorry … I don’t know what happened.” She blushes furiously. “It’s just the table and these … damn pregnancy hormones. Who knew wood was such a turn-on—but we agreed, no complications. Right?”
“Right,” I agree so quickly there’s no chance of me changing my mind. “It’s best if we just stick to the plan.”
Fuck, I sound like such an asshole. Her gaze drops to the floor, and I have no idea how to keep my head but also let her in. I wish I could tell her that Iwantto pick her up and carry her inside my house. That I want to bury myself in her until the sun comes up, until she’s completely wrung out and begging for mercy. But instead, I find the will to back up and help her down off the table. Without saying anything more, I move to take her home. Where she’s safe.
CHAPTER 26
Olivia
What the hell just happened?
One minute I’m helping him plane my oak boards, the next I’m almost kissing him on that damn table, and that isnotthe way to keep the lines between us clear and let him be just a father to our child. How can I keep things uncomplicated if I’m the one rocking my ass against him and practically begging him to touch me? He may not believe in love or relationships, but he is still a man. And there’s clearly a physical pull between us.
