Page 9 of Property of the Woodsman

A slow moment passes as I lean into her lips, gentler than before.

Jesus Christ, this is a mistake. I know it the second I breathe in the sweet scent on her skin. I know it the second my chest tightens, and my cock grows hard. I know it the second my shoulders squeeze and the beast begins to claw.

Suddenly, and without thought, my hands are on her hips, in her hair, on her soft and creamy thighs.

Fuck.

It’s too soon. I shouldn’t be touching her. I shouldn’t sweep my hand across the cotton of her panties. I shouldn’t press my palm onto her sopping little crease. I shouldn’t groan low in her ear and lift her up onto the kitchen counter.

I shouldn’t do any of those things, but I can’t stop myself. She’s too ripe, too sweet, too soft.

I need her.

I need to touch her.

I need to hear the sounds she makes.

“Oh God,” she moans and leans into my touch, further giving me permission, and I let myself go.

I kiss her neck and press my palm against her clit, holding her close against me as she jumps and whines.

“Right there! Oh God!”

“That’s right, little bunny. You want me in that little pussy, don’t you? You want me to touch you and make you feel good.”

“Little bunny?” she whines breathlessly. “I like that.”

I scrape my teeth against her shoulder. “You want to be my little bunny rabbit?”

She hums under her breath as she bends her neck back. “Yeah. I’ll be your little bunny rabbit.”

Jesus Christ, what the fuck is happening?

I scrub my hand against her soaking panties, then slide behind them, sweeping my fingers against her soft, swollen core. I should stop! I need to fucking stop!

Instead, though, I scrape my teeth against her shoulder, breathing her in when I hear a heavy knock on the front door.

“No,” she sighs against my mouth. “I don’t want to stop. Let’s ignore it.”

I don’t have to be convinced. I lift her up into my arms and carry her up the stairs, one creaking step at a time, but whoever is at the door is intent on ruining this thing I’ve started.

We pause at the octagon window that sits just above the landing on the stairway, looking out onto the front porch where a scrawny man with a graying mustache stands, a child next to him.

“Oh my God!” Jen’s eyes widen. “That’s my ex and my son! You have to hide!”

I stare out the window again, studying the man closer. “That’s the guy that wasn’t sleeping with you?” I say it far too sarcastically, letting her know that I think she could do better. A lot better.

Head shaking, she wiggles down out of my arms, which only serves to make my cock harder. “Maybe we should both hide. I don’t know why he’s here, but I should probably answer the door. What if something’s wrong?” She glances up toward me in a panic. “But he’d have called me if something was wrong, right?”

I laugh. “We should definitely answer the door. It makes the whole ruse look even more believable.”

Her eyes widen as she glances up toward me for answers. “My son is out there. I don’t want him to think I’m—”

“That boy looks about,” I glance out the window again toward the kid in jeans and a video game T-shirt, “six years old. I’d bet he isn’t thinking much past what he’s having for dinner. You’re probably in the clear for one conversation.”

She looks at me with a wrinkled forehead and smooths her hair down before readjusting the cute little maple leaf apron she’s wearing. “You’re right. We’ll just be normal. Normal. Normal. Normal.” She’s repeating the word like a mantra as she swings open the front door with a breath and a smile. “Hey! What are you two doing here?”

The door has only been open a second when I step in behind her, my hand on her back as I stare toward the idiot who traded everything in for novelty.