The Woodsman's Baby Read online

  Dad said, “Lou isn’t a monster, but he fights them. When you get older, you’ll understand that monsters aren’t scary creatures in the closet, they’re demons we fight from our past. Some people win the battle and some are consumed.” He set his jaw and we drove home in silence as I thought over his words.

  “Want a beer?” Connor interrupts my thoughts and I spring back into the present.

  “No!” The word forcefully blurts out of my mouth like a sharp slap on the wrist of a child who was only looking at a cookie.

  I turn away, my cheeks blazing at my overreaction and try to fight my instinct to rub my hand over my belly.

  Searching the room for a distraction, my eyes fall on his books haphazardly strewn on the shelves of his bookcase. I glaze over the titles I’d expect Connor to be interested in, American Psycho, Revolutionary Road, stopping to stare at the odd book out. It reminds me of that old Sesame Street tune, “One of these things is not like the others. One of these things just doesn't belong. Can you tell which thing is not like the others, by the time I finish my song?”

  “Charlotte’s Web?” I look over my shoulder with a cocked eyebrow and don’t wait for an explanation before I cross the room and pluck the curious selection from the shelf.

  “It was a gift. More of a joke, really,” Connor grabs his beer and lets the fridge door slam shut, following me across the room. I flip open the cover and admire the beautifully handwritten inscription:

  Connor,

  Just remember, you can be the most “Terrific” pig in the world, but at the end of the day, you’re still just a pig.

  Cynthia

  “Who’s Cynthia?” I snap the cover closed as jealousy burns over the back of my neck.

  “No one,” he laughs, but the noise dries in his throat when he meets my eyes. “Well, not ‘no one,’ but not what you’re thinking. She was a military clerk I knew. She always called me a pig, but I figured she had the hots for me. So, when she gave me a Christmas present I was sure she was finally admitting her feelings, but, as you can see,” he sweeps his hand to the book in my grasp, “that wasn’t the case. I thought it was funny, so I kept it,” he shrugs.

  My tense shoulders slump with relief as I put the book back down. Why am I feeling so worked up anyway? It’s not like Connor is mine. And even if he was, he had a life before me. That’s not exactly a surprise. Even when I was a little girl, I noticed how he had a different piece of flaky arm candy dangling from him every week.

  A leopard doesn’t change his spots, my brother’s voice echoes in my mind.

  I clear my throat, “I didn’t take you for the sentimental type, I guess.” I finally let myself look into his eyes and am suddenly lost in a jungle of green.

  “Oh no?” Connor steps toward me, and I can feel that buzz of electricity spark between us that I’ve ached for. A current races over my skin making my nipples taut and my pussy slick. I can smell the faint trace of beer on his breath mixed with the natural, woodsy musk he’s picked up by living out here in the forest. If raw, feral, rip-your-clothes-off man had a bottled scent, it would be him.

  He moves in closer, his lips inching toward mine and I let my worries, the ones that haunt me about his past and my future, all float away as I let my eyelids slide shut and wait to feel the warmth of his mouth on mine.

  “Then how would you explain this?” He lifts an old-fashioned photo album, covered in colorful hot air balloons, from the shelf.

  “I haven’t looked at a photo album since Mom died. She loved scrapbooking and putting old pictures in. She would say ‘it’s a shame to let anything collect dust, but especially the blessings life gives each of us.’ Then she’d tell me the stories behind every single picture. I was always amazed at how much detail she remembered,” I run my hand over the cover and feel a pang in my gut as I wish I could listen to her tell me just one more of those tales.

  “I’m sorry about your parents, Charlotte,” Connor squeezes my shoulder with his broad hand and I fight back tears I haven’t cried in years.

  “Me too,” I swallow hard and blink quickly. “So, what stories are you holding onto? What memories are you making sure don’t collect dust?”

  14

  Connor

  I take a swig of beer and lead Charlotte back to my sofa as she eyes me with curiosity. “I’ll show you,” I answer, plopping down on the navy blue cushion. I watch her bubble butt grow rounder and even fuller as she eases down beside me. For a second, I want to throw the photo album on the floor and tear her clothes open. I want to lick every part of her, taste every inch of her skin, and swallow every bit of her sweet nectar. My cock twitches, but I snap out of it, forcing myself to focus. I told her I would bring her here to talk, nothing else. Unless she shows me that she wants more, I’m going to be a man of my word.

  I take another mouthful of beer and run my hand over the cover of the album. It feels like the pictures inside, the details and the moments were a lifetime ago, and at the same time, like they were only yesterday.

  “Come on, let’s see what’s hiding in here,” Charlotte nudges me playfully. “Got a bunch of pictures of you done up in camo, maybe posing with a gun as you burst out of the water? Isn’t that what they show on the commercial for the SEALs,” she jokes. “I bet you were their cover boy, weren’t you?”

  “I must have those in another book,” I smile and crack the cover open. “This one is all…”

  “It’s me,” she breathes the words lightly running her fingers over an aging picture of little Lottie King with her frizzy afro and pink overalls, sticking her tongue out at the boy behind the camera. Me.

  “Yep,” I let my eyes scan the page as memories swirl back in full force. “And Marcus. And me.” I turn the page and Charlotte laughs as a much younger version of her brother who is holding up a bullfrog proudly while in the picture below I’m showing off on the monkey bars in the park.

  “I forgot how you used to carry that camera around all the time,” she sits up straighter and pours over the pictures. “Didn’t you get it as a gift or something?” Charlotte looks up at me, her eyebrows reaching skyward and her brown eyes softening.

  “Yeah, my Mom gave it to me for my birthday,” I nod and finish my beer in one gulp before putting the bottle down on the end table.

  “You were obsessed with taking pictures,” Charlotte flips the page and laughs loudly as she glances down at herself in puffy pigtails, giving me the finger. “I forgot how bratty I was to you guys,” she chuckles.

  “You just kept me in line,” I smirk. “I deserved it, most of the time,” I look over at her as she flips through the book. I’ve seen these pictures more times than I can count. Watching her reaction to each new page is impossible to look away from.

  Charlotte crinkles her nose at the pictures of the dog taking a crap, boy stuff, and she laughs until she’s gasping for air at the picture of Marcus dressed up in spandex with a blanket for a cape.

  Charlotte taps her finger on the picture and tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes as she struggles to breathe.

  “What’s so funny?” I glance down.

  “That’s my bodysuit I wore to dance class,” she giggles at the skin-tight onesie Marcus wore under a pair of blue shorts in his homemade Superman costume.

  Laughter bubbles up inside of me, “Really? I didn’t know that.” I wrap my arm around her as she flickers through more pages, each one that she flips, turning into later years of our childhood.

  “Oh, look how handsome you two looked for prom. I remember I was so jealous of, what was the name of the girl you took?” She tears her eyes away from the past and looks up at me.

  “Fiona.”

  “Yes, that’s right. Fiona,” she spits out the name like a bitter taste on her tongue. “I never liked her,” she lifts the page.

  “You didn’t know her.” I laugh.

  “What I knew, I didn’t like,” she turns over the cardboard page and stops, her fingers hovering over the envelope tucked into th
e back of the album. “Is that?”

  “It is,” I lift up the letter Charlotte wrote to me fourteen years ago. She gave it to me as I was getting ready to board my bus to start my new life in the military.

  Her hands shake as she holds out the envelope and fat tears fall over her cheeks. I remember I looked over her head to see if Marcus might be with her, but he wasn’t. The friendship was already dead by then. Prom night could never be taken back.

  “I don’t know how I’m going to get through you leaving. I don’t know how I’m going to keep living my life without you in it,” Lottie sniffed. At thirteen, she was tall for her age and her limbs seemed to be growing faster than her body.

  “I’ll be back someday, I promise,” I answered.

  “No, you won’t,” she cried. “I know I’ll never see you again.” I remember how her heartbreak made her voice crack. How her chin trembled as she tried, but lost the battle to hold back her tears.

  “Listen, I’ll be back. You have my word on that,” I looked into her eyes. I knew for years that Lottie had a crush on me, but it wasn’t until that moment that I saw the depth of it. She’d always been my best friend’s little sister. The annoying one who tattled on us or tried to follow us around like a lost puppy dog. It wasn’t until I was ready to leave that I could see a glimmer of who she would grow up to become.

  “I’ll miss you,” she wiped away the tears with the back of her hand, trying to be brave. Lottie pulled the envelope from her back pants pocket and shoved it into my hands then marched away quickly.

  She didn’t know I watched her walk away. She didn’t know I saw her collapse against the doorframe to the bus station and shake as tears spilled from her. She didn’t know I witnessed her heart being torn in two. Because I boarded the bus, took my seat and watched from the window as it pulled away.

  “You still have my letter? Why?” She searches my face with her chocolate eyes and leans into me.

  “Because I wanted to remember what I was coming back here for,” I admit, “I promised you that I would return, remember?”

  “I do,” her fingers intertwine with mine and she looks up at me with wonder.

  “I’m a man of my word, Charlotte. That’s one thing you can always trust. I promised you I’d come back and I did. Your letter, through all these years, grounded me, it kept me rooted here, it brought me back here… to you.”

  Charlotte leans into me, her breast brushing against my hand as her lips tenderly press against mine. I let go of the album and it drops to the floor as I scoop her up from the sofa and pull her into my lap. Wrapping my arms around her, my tongue presses against her lips and they open for me. I can taste her desire, the fire that never stopped burning for me, her desperate need. I know it all too well, it’s the same things I’ve been feeling since the night we went home together. Since the night destiny and fate danced through our lives and brought us back together.

  15

  Charlotte

  I slide my legs open and my dress slips up around my waist. Through my panties, I can feel the heat of his hard cock pressed against me. My pussy clenches as I throw my shoulders back, pushing my breasts forward into Connor’s face.

  He cups my ass, squeezing my cheeks hard, pulling them open so I can feel his rigid member urgently pressing into my mound. Connor combs his fingers through my hair, sweeping it to the side so he can unzip the back of my dress. Does this feeling ever go away? It feels like every time Connor fucks me, every time I give myself to him, my senses are overwhelmed. My heart threatens to beat out of my chest and my breathing grows ragged as I tremble with anticipation. I’ve never felt anything so intense before. It’s like my soul is jumping to the edge of my flesh, like a fish leaping from a pond, to graze against his. Each time, it feels like a tingling intensity rushing over me, like every cell in my body has woken from his touch.

  Zwwwip!

  He opens my dress and the light fabric slides down, exposing the cream-colored bra with little pink cherry blossoms on it, covering my full breasts.

  Connor wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me into him, nuzzling between my plump tits. He drags his tongue slowly over the tops, leaving a shimmering trail, marking me.

  I didn’t even feel his hand on my bra strap until he flicked it open, my tits fall slightly as he quickly tugs the bra from my body and tosses it to the floor.

  “You have such beautiful tits,” he growls and sucks my dusky nipple in over his rose petal lips as I flutter my eyelids closed. Rolling my head back, I press my breasts into his face as I grind down against his thick cock, wishing I could feel every inch of him stretch me out, claiming me as his.

  “Oh!” My eyes spring open with surprise as I look down at Connor’s mischievous grin against my taut nipple. “That stung!” I give him a light swat but giggle at the conflicting sensation of the nip he just gave me with the even more vibrant pleasure of his swirling tongue soothing it.

  Connor kisses a path to my other breast and I’m lost in a haze of pleasure as he presses my tits together in his hands and suckles and grazes them with the edge of his teeth until the pain and bliss almost bring me to the edge.

  I’m humping him like a horny teenager in their parents’ basement, shamelessly rocking my hips and opening my legs as far as I can manage on this couch as he licks my sensitive nipples in a frenzy.

  “Oh my! I’m gonna cum!” I grab his shoulders and a shiver runs over my entire body as my orgasm explodes through me. It’s fast, intense and crazy and I’ve never felt anything like it before. I’ve heard women say they could cum from just having their breasts teased or their earlobes sucked, but I never thought it was really possible. It sounded as unrealistic to me as those tantric people who claim to cum for four hours straight. A nice idea, but simply not possible.

  “That was amazing,” I look down at Connor’s grin shyly.

  “I’m only just getting started,” he smirks.

  Before I have a chance to think, he stands up, carrying me over to the ladder leading to his loft.

  “Get your sweet ass up there,” he places me on the floor in front of the first rung. “I’m not even close to done with you yet,” his green eyes twinkle and his scruff twitches as his lips slide into a sly smile. I turn around and begin climbing the ladder, extremely aware that he’s got a perfect view up my skirt of my pink thong, as I reach for each new rung.

  Feeling naughty, I tug the dress up a bit higher and swing my hips so my ass is swaying in his face. I want to tease him, to make him crazy like he makes me.

  Smack!

  The sting spreads through my cheek as I look down with surprise. I can see the flame of desire burning behind his eyes, it’s overtaking him like a wildfire.

  “What was that for?” I fake a protest.

  “You’re being a bad girl, so I had to give your ass a slap,” he answers coyly

  “Is that so?” I bite my lip and step up a little higher on the ladder, this time I shamelessly shake my ass like I’m getting paid on a pole. What can I say? Being a bad girl has never felt so good before.

  Connor steps up behind me and gives my ass another firm slap and I close my eyes, enjoying the light burn travel over my cheek. “Mmmm,” I purr.

  Suddenly he grabs my hips and yanks them backward, making my eyes fly open and my purr turn into a yelp. “Ahhh!” I cling onto the ladder frame and curl my toes around the rung as he yanks my hips back like a hinge.

  “If you want to tease me like that, I’m not waiting until we get into the loft,” his voice is gravelly and gruff as he steps up behind me and twists his hands in my thong. Connor bunches the fabric in his hand and wraps it around his fist until I can feel it strain at the seams. He’s pulling hard enough that my ass is swinging back in the air as I try with all my might to hang on to the ladder. I’m already halfway up and don’t want to come crashing down.

  The lace pops and pulls over my hip as it begins to give way. Connor growls, yanking hard and my thong is no match for his primal desi
res. The fabric snaps over my skin, bursting open and he lets it fall to the floor below.

  Connor holds my hips out at an angle tightly and pushes his head up between the back of my open thighs. The warmth of his wet tongue delves in past my lips and he laps up my juices as I groan. The tip of his tongue flickers against my clit and I almost let go of the ladder as the bliss overcomes me.

  I cling on, wrapping my fingers around the wooden frame and close my eyes as Connor holds me in place, licking me slowly but purposefully, tasting me.

  His tongue circles my clit as I squirm back against his touch. I can’t believe how quickly my body is reacting to him again after he just made me cum on the couch. I bite my lip with surprise as he drags his tongue back along my slit, back further still, until he reaches my asshole. For a moment, he flattens his tongue and presses it against me there.

  I’ve never let anyone but him touch me there before. I’m not sure if I like it or not. It’s a completely new sensation and my pleasure is heightened by how naughty it makes me feel.

  Connor slips his tongue back into my pussy, this time when he finds my clit he frantically thrashes his tongue over it in a relentless frenzy.

  “Oh!” It’s all I can say. It’s all I feel. That one word seems to sum up the waves of ecstasy building inside me. My grip on the ladder gets harder and the wood digs into my skin as I surrender to the pleasure of his tongue. A shudder runs from the back of my neck down to my toes as another orgasm washes through the length of me like a tidal wave. Every muscle clenches tightly as I quake against him.