Hot Lumberjack

By Aviva Blakeman

Abi thought she had a charmed life. She’s got her dream job, family and friends who love her, and she just bought a great old house! Everything would be perfect, if not for the logging company that’s just set up shop next door.

And the guy she can’t seem to stop shtupping.

Who just happens to be their chief tree cutter. Er, logger. Lumberjack?

Ilan took over his father’s business three years ago and he’s proud of the success he’s earned. Getting the contract to clear the Howell acreage is just another in a string of achievements. He didn’t mean for it to be such a sore subject for the people of the neighborhood.

He especially didn’t mean to find himself naked with Abi.

At least not more than once.

Definitely not more than twice.

Too bad it seems to keep happening. Worse, they can’t say two words to each other without wanting to throw things. But there’s no way the attraction will last, nobody who gets that turned on can stay that way and get anything done, right?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Publishing
• Release date: Feb 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9781094455549

Aviva Blakeman

Aviva Blakeman lives in North Carolina surrounded by books, yarn, and too many writing implements. She has been filling pages with words ever since she received her first Lisa Frank composition book (thankfully lost to history). She lives with an aging cat, who is even now demanding attention. You can visit her on twitter, which she hasn’t quite figured out. She also has a website where you can sign up for her newsletter.

Book preview

ONE

You should really be fucking me right now, Abi said, her throat dry from the too-sweet mixed drinks and anticipation. Part of her knew she should apologize for engaging the teacher tone she used when talking to toddlers, but the rest of her figured it worked for both of them. The man looked up at her through eyes heavy-lidded with desire as she straddled him.

At least she hoped it was desire.

She would also settle for it being awe at her ability to contort above him in the small space of the car.

I have every intention of fucking you, he said, and there was amusement in his tone.She decided not to overthink it too much as he continued, But strictly speaking—you’re the one about to ride me.

Well. That’s- she floundered, she wasn’t anything close to drunk, but this piece of information left her feeling like she should try to walk a straight line or at least do something to prove herself. His fingers moved under the fabric of the skirt that pooled in her lap, and she bit her lip. His knuckle was very close to her clit. She could feel his erection through his jeans and suddenly it was very important to get it free.

For the record, this wasn’t what I expected when I suggested we go outside, he said, his breath catching in his throat when she jerked his belt buckle open.

I know, me neither, she said, panting herself because his fingers knew what they were doing and oh fuck that felt good. She leaned into him and his hips canted upward, pressing the hard ridge of his erection and his jeans against her most sensitive places. Abi’s fingers fisted in his tee shirt.

Do you even remember what we were arguing about? His other hand, the hand not intent on driving her crazy, was working its way under her shirt and cupping her breast. Abi covered it with her own, leaning into his denim-covered dick and letting the moan fall where it wanted.

I don’t think it matters, she said. His hand left her pussy, fingers going to his jeans and she helped him, both of her hands working to unzip and unbutton and then she had to sit up enough so that he could work the jeans down his hips, and he was free and so close to her that she just wanted—

Wait, he said, sitting up a bit, struggling beneath her.

Abi glared, she was almost home free and he was ruining the moment. Again.

You don’t really want to stop so we can figure out who’s right about who sang the original My Way, do you?

They’re called ‘standards’ for a reason. Sinatra may have made it his own, but plenty of other people sang it too, he said.

For a moment, she couldn’t remember his name—she knew it, she grew up with the guy practically. But in that hey that person is a few classes ahead of me in Hebrew School way, not in the we’ve known each other so long we’re the same soul way—and that seemed somewhat more important than knowing the name of the My Way singer.

This is what you want to talk about right now, Abi said, her fingers circling his dick, and he swallowed hard. Then redoubled his efforts to—she wasn’t sure what he was doing actually. Ilan.

That was his name: Ilan.

Reach around for my wallet, he said, I can’t get it.

What the hell do you need—

Condom, he panted, almost fully sitting up now.

Oh, Abi said, feeling a little less irritated, and also relieved. She hadn’t even thought about that. She reached behind her, finding the bulge in the pocket of the jeans and wriggling it free. Eventually turning in his lap because it wasn’t something she was able to do by feeling alone.

It was difficult to see in the car, but she didn’t want to reach above them to turn on the cabin light. Something about that would ruin the mood, she was sure. She handed him the soft leather wallet, and he produced a foil-wrapped condom, flinging the wallet forgotten into the driver’s seat. Abi felt sure this was a moment she should say something clever, but words escaped her. They were really doing this.

She was really going to fuck this man in her car in the parking lot of a bar.

At least it wasn’t the bar where she met her best friend and her sister every Sunday for brunch?

She almost snorted.

A little help? Ilan said, and she realized he was having difficulty with the packet.

Let me see, she said, weirdly pleased he hadn’t opened it with his teeth. She used her nails to slit the package open, finding pleasure in the way his breath hissed from between his teeth as she fit the condom over his dick, rolling it into place. He fell back against the seat, his fingers curling around her hips. Abi bit her lip, considering him. She moved her skirts aside, her fingernails scratching lightly up his bare belly.

Fuck, Abi, he said, his fingers digging into her hips. He clenched his jaw on whatever he was going to say next, and she took pity on him, sliding her body back into position. She pressed her sex against his dick, pressing it against his belly, and he groaned his hands urging her. Abi grinned, feeling her power in the moment. Her knee dug into the car seat, catching the plastic bit where the seatbelt engaged, and she cursed. He tried to help, grabbing his dick and moving to fit it inside her.

Abi’s hands swatted at him, batting his hands away.

I thought you told me I should be fucking you, he said, moving his hands to grasp the bars of the headrest behind his neck.

You took too long, she growled. Her knee was smarting, but her pussy was wet, aching for the dick that was so close she could feel its heat. Her fingers found him, closed over him, and he moaned. Abi licked her lips, shifting her hips so she could fit him to her. She took him inside her in slow, torturous inches. Teasing herself as much as him.

By the time he was sheathed fully, there were beads of sweat on his upper lip. She wondered if anyone had cum like that. Just from fitting a perfect dick inside their body. The sounds he was making were delicious. She wanted to lap up those moans like the foam on a latte. She rocked her hips the barest bit and was shocked at the feeling that ricocheted through her. She was going to cum fast and hard, she knew it.

I’m going to fuck you till I cum, she said, her hips already moving like they had their own agenda, and then you’re on your own.

That’s not very nice, he panted, his own hips thrusting up to meet hers. Abi bit back a cry. Her fingers twisted so tightly in his tee shirt that she wondered if she would lose circulation.

Then you better do what you gotta do, huh? she said, clenching her inner muscles hard on his dick. He gasped. She laughed, and the laugh ended in a hoarse, crying curse.

You have the worst fucking mouth, he said, his hands leaving the headrest to go to her shirt. He wrested it up her body, exposing bare skin, and then the cups of her bra. Abi wasn’t going to help him, she wasn’t taking her shirt off. He seemed to sense this and didn’t try, just worked his fingers under the band of her bra to find her bare breast. He pinched her nipple, rolling it between his fingers and the cage that was the bra cup.

Abi cried out, her hips slapping against his, the pace punishing.

You’re close, he said, his other hand plunging under the skirt, finding her ass, fingers digging into the flesh, urging her hard against his dick.

You’re going to finish first, she said, a challenge in her eyes.

I thought you said I was on my own after you came, he licked his lips, and she resisted the urge to kiss him. She’d already kissed him in the parking lot. If she kissed him now, it would just distract her from the goal.

You are, but you’re still going to cum first, she predicted.

What makes you say that? You’ve done this before? His tone was teasing but she wondered if he was genuinely asking.

Not with you, Abi pointed out, reaching behind her, cupping his balls through the folds of the skirt. He gasped. She played with them gently, watching his face as she continued the punishing rhythm with her hips.

I’d definitely remember, he said, then moaned, the sound a short, shocked cry as his body tensed beneath her.

I told you, she said, clenching her inner muscles again, then again, trying to push herself over the edge.

Fuck, he said, forcing his hips hard against hers, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He kept chanting, and she didn’t stop him because it was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. This guy, his muscles corded tightly as he came, his entire body intent on her as she finally, finally found her own orgasm. She laughed, the sound almost a song in the closed space of the car as the orgasm took her. Wave after wave after wave, of glorious sensation. She was pressing her fingers against the roof of the car as she rode it out. She may not have been right, but she won.

TWO

The preschool did show-and-tell on Mondays. It was a thing Abi instituted during her first year as principal. Originally, the parents were dubious, but there was something about getting the week started with a thing that made you happy that worked for the kids. Normally, this was a thing Abi looked forward to. Actually, it was probably part of why she started it in the first place. Anything to make Mondays more enticing was a good thing, right?

But this particular Monday she considered calling in sick.

The day started earlier than it should have because the sound of power saws ripping through the trees was enough to pull anyone out of halfway decent sleep. There had to be a noise ordinance they were violating. She’d asked her dad, who was a lawyer so it was his actual job to know such things, and he just laughed.

They’d started the process of clearing the land behind her house late the previous week. She could hear them back there but still couldn’t see any of the machinery. And she wasn’t going to go searching in the woods for it just so she could yell at the workmen like some overly entitled avenging suburban angel, so all she could do was be annoyed that every weekday, like clockwork, she was going to hear the sounds of land clearing at seven-thirty on the dot.

They were better than her alarm clock.

That was just for starters.

Then she tripped in the kitchen and dropped the coffee pot. It exploded into eleventy billion tiny pieces, and she was late pulling out of the drive because she had found her panties from Friday night bunched in the center console, and she spent a panicked three full minutes wondering if her sister had seen them when they’d driven out for lunch on Saturday.

It was only after the three minutes of panic while holding her balled up panties that Abigail realized if Leah had found her dirty laundry in the center console while rooting around for chewing gum, she never would have let her sister hear the end of it.

Sisters.

But then Abi had to take the underwear back inside the house, and take a full load of laundry (including every single thing she’d been wearing Friday night for good measure) out to the washing machine to be done when she got home from work.

It was the only way to make sure she hadn’t missed any other article of clothing.

By then, she was almost-but-not-quite running late.

So rather than going through the drive-thru of Leah’s coffee shop, which had the only other coffee Abi could drink besides her own, she had to settle for the drive-thru of McDonald’s(which had coffee that was so hot you couldn’t taste it even if you wanted to).

She probably could have gone through Leah’s drive-thru. But her sister would take one look at her and know Abi had spent the morning panic cleaning, and she would want details, which Abi would give her because if she didn’t, she would feel like a bitch, and then Abi would be late, and there would be a line of cars snaking behind her who were now also late to wherever they were going, all because Leah insisted boundaries were for quitters.

At least, she felt that way when it came to anything that could possibly be considered a juicy detail about someone she cared about. Otherwise, Leah was shockingly well adjusted.

Abi sighed, glaring at the sixteen ounces of molten scorched dirt she risked her life for. Okay, fine, McDonald’s coffee wasn’t actually made with dirt. But the flavor was most definitely scorched out. She’d die on that hill.

Hi Ms Meyer! The small voice belonged to Dani Freedman. She was always the first child to arrive for Preschool since her dad got to the shul almost before Abi did most days. Abi peeked over her steering wheel, smiling what she hoped was a chipper, Monday smile. David, Rabbi Freedman, stood on the sidewalk in front of her car, scrolling idly through his phone while his daughter waved excitedly.

It looked like the little girl was holding a two-headed cat. Abi’s brow furrowed, and she opened her car door.

Hey Abs, David said. Abi smiled with the knowledge that they likely would have become friends even if he hadn’t fallen into ridiculous love with her best friend.

Hi, Abi said, maneuvering out of her car while holding coffee in one hand, and her purse, laptop bag, and the massive canvas bag that had all of her Preschool crap slung over her other shoulder. If this were a normal day, she’d have a decent coffee in her travel mug which managed to defy the laws of physics and have one of those super cool mouth-hole things that didn’t leak so you could hang it upside down in zero gravity or something. At least that way she could shove it in her bag. But not on this particular Monday apparently.

See my new friend? Dani said, waving the toy which was definitely a two-headed something at Abi. She stood on the grass rather than the sidewalk, but she hadn’t skipped to the parking lot just yet. Abi and the teachers at the school spent a fair amount of time teaching the kids about safety, and there was an earworm of a rhyme one of the teachers for the two-year-old class made up about parking lots and needing a buddy.

I do, Abi said. Your friend looks cool, can you tell me about them?

Yep, Dani said, turning the stuffed creature to look at its face and smooth back some of its bright pink fur, "Shoshana’s friend made him for me. He’s