3. Hazel
three
Hazel
I suck in a nervous breath as I stand outside of Timber!
It's Monday afternoon, and the parking lot looks pretty empty. Flint wasn't joking about it being quiet. There are only two other vehicles in the lot, and the place seems almost deserted from the outside.
Flint said he'd be here around noon, and my watch tells me it's almost exactly that. I push open the door to Timber!.
Flint's not at the counter or by the aisles. I scan the room, wandering past the bar until I hear the sound of an axe hitting wood. I push open the door that reads 'PRIVATE PARTY ROOM.'
Flint is there, his plaid shirt unbuttoned and his muscular chest glistening with sweat as he throws axe after axe. He's training. He doesn't see me standing in the doorway, so I take a moment to appreciate the view. His muscles shift and flex with each throw, his shoulders moving in a fluid rhythm. He's a true lumberjack, a master of his craft. I can't take my eyes off him.
He finally notices me, a smirk spreading across his face as he catches my gaze. "You made it," he says, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He pulls his shirt off completely, revealing a sweat-soaked undershirt that clings to his chest. I gulp, trying to keep my composure.
"I said I would, didn't I?" I offer a small smile, trying to play it cool. But my heart is pounding in my chest like a drum.
Flint walks over to me, his bare feet padding softly on the sawdust-covered floor. He extends his hand, his fingers brushing against mine as he helps me step up onto the throwing line. "So, you ready to learn?"
I swallow hard, trying to ignore the electric tingle that's coursing through my veins. 'Yes, oh God, yes, teach me. Teach me everything you know.' This is what I want to say, but instead, I settle for something less daring. "Yes, please."
Heat surges between us. He's so close. I can see the sweat beading on his chest, the way his muscles ripple with every movement, the way his eyes darken as they roam over my face. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I'm sure he can hear it.
"Alright, let's start with the basics," he says, his voice low and husky. He lifts an axe from the rack, his fingers brushing against mine in the process. I shiver at the contact, my breath hitching slightly.
Flint pays me a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners, before stepping back to demonstrate the proper stance. I mimic his movements, my body swaying gently as I bring the axe back over my head.
"Good," Flint murmurs, his gaze intense as he watches my every movement. "Now, follow through."
I release the axe, and it spins through the air before embedding itself in the target with a satisfying thud. I turn to face Flint, a grin spreading across my face.
"Good girl," he says. "You really are a natural."
I can barely suppress a whimper when he praises me. It makes heat bloom between my legs and my stomach twist.
Flint's eyes flick down to my lips as he takes a step closer. "Hazel," he says, choosing his words carefully. "Do you like it when I praise you?"
"Yes, you're a good teacher," I say.
"Would you like me to teach you anything else?" His lips slowly curl into a seductive smirk.
I melt into him, surging forward with a desire I've never felt before. Flint takes me into his arms, kissing me fiercely. Oh my god, he tastes like whiskey and man. He's so different from anyone I've ever been with before. I'm not sure if it's the lumberjack thing, the way he commands a room, or just how he makes me feel so special when he notices me.
Flint's hand cups my face, holding me steady as he deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth. I feel a moan building up in my chest, but I hold it back. His other hand finds my hip, pulling me closer to him. I can feel his hardness pressing against me, and it sends a jolt of desire straight to my core.
I've never been so turned on in my life, and it's all because of this man— this lumberjack.
Flint breaks the kiss, his breath ragged as he looks into my eyes. "Hazel," he says. "I want you. But only if you want me, too."
I look up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. I nod, my voice barely above a whisper. "I want you, Flint."
He smiles. It’s a slow, sexy smile that makes my knees weak. "Good, because I've been wanting to touch you since the moment I saw you," he confesses, his hand trailing down my neck, my collarbone, and then resting on my hip.
I gasp softly, my skin tingling under his touch. "You have?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nods, his eyes darkening with desire. "You're beautiful, Hazel. And there's something about you that makes me want to protect you."
My heart flutters at his words. No one has ever made me feel like that before.
Flint's hand slips down my jeans and pushes between my thighs, finding my wet heat. I gasp, my hips bucking against his touch. He looks into my eyes, his dark green gaze filled with a hunger that matches mine.
"You're so wet, Hazel," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing circles over my clit. "You want this, don't you?"
I nod, my breath coming in short gasps. "Yes, god, yes."
Flint's smile is wicked, his fingers working my clit with expert precision. "Good. Because I want to taste you."
He steps back, his gaze locked on mine as he lowers himself to his knees.
My heart races as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my jeans, slowly pulling them down, revealing my lace-covered pussy.
"Fuck, Hazel," he murmurs. "You're so sexy."
Flint leans in, his breath hot against my skin as he presses a kiss to my inner thigh. I squirm, unable to keep still as he trails kisses higher, his stubble scratching against my soft skin.
He reaches the apex of my thighs, his breath hot against my pussy. I can feel the dampness through my lace panties, my clit throbbing with need. He tugs them down, parts my legs, and drives forward, licking and sucking at my pussy like a man possessed.
I cry out, my hands flying to his hair, gripping tightly as he laps at me. The feeling of his tongue against my clit is better than anything I've ever felt.
"Fuck, Flint," I breathe, my hips writhing against his face.
He hums against me, sending vibrations straight to my core. I feel my orgasm building, my body tensing as he sucks harder, his fingers digging into my ass.
"That's it, Hazel," he murmurs, his voice muffled by my pussy. "Come for me. I want to taste you, baby." Flint's voice is a low growl, the vibrations sending ripples of pleasure through me. His words, his touch, his tongue—everything about him is driving me crazy. I can feel the pressure building, my body tensing as I get closer and closer to the edge.
"Flint," I moan, my hips bucking against his face. "I'm so close."
He doesn't let up, his tongue flickering against my clit with expert precision. The sound of my moans echoes through the private party room, bouncing off the walls and filling the space with our erotic symphony.
"Be a good girl and come for me."
Those words push me over the edge. I let out a whimpering moan, squeezing my thighs around his face as I come.
Flint's tongue doesn't let up, drawing out my orgasm until I'm a shaking, trembling mess. He finally pulls away, looking up at me with a satisfied grin. I'm a panting, sweating mess, my heart still racing.
Flint stands up, his chest heaving with his own heavy breaths. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving mine.
"You taste even better than you look," he says, his voice low and husky. I blush at his words, my heart fluttering in my chest.