Page 172 of The Lumberjack and the City Slicker

“Too many clothes,” I growl, and she’s nodding, tearing at my belt buckle.

Her shirt comes off.

Mine’s next.

Then I shove her pants down and drop to my knees so I can take them all the way off her feet.

“Turn around,” I tell her and she does.

“Hands on the table, Baby,” I instruct.

Christ, she’s gorgeous. I run my palms over her shoulders, her back, the dip of her waist, and flare of her hips.

I unzip my jeans and shove them down far enough to free my cock.

“You ready for me?” I ask, knowing she will be even though I barely even touched her yet.

Spring is breaking open outside. The mountain is alive again.

And for the first time, I’m not afraid of stepping off it.

Because wherever I go—she’s choosing to stand beside me.

She nods her head. “I-I’m ready.”

Then I drive my hips forward and I lose control, but I find myself—or at least, the version of myself I want to be as I fill her, and flex my body deep inside her.

“You’re so good,” I growl against her neck, caging her in as I pump into her.

She’s so soft, so hot. Her moans echo off the walls, and the sound? It’s better than anything.

I need her so bad. So much. It should terrify me, but it doesn’t.

Admitting it, even if only to myself, it’s freeing. It’s affirmation and declaration.

She’s breathing like a marathon runner, and so am I. Our chests heave in time, and fuck, I’m about to blow. But I need her with me.

I reach around with one hand and I find her clit. I circle it with my thumb, pressing down in time with my thrusts.

Her muscles start to clench, body slickening with arousal and sweat and need.

I’m holding her so tight with my other hand, I know I’m bruising her. But I can’t make myself let go.

“Come for me, Trouble. That’s it. Fuck, squeeze me, Baby.”

She cries out. “Greyson!” And my name has never sounded so good.

Her pussy strangles me as she comes, and I follow her, pumping my hips and flooding her sweet sex with my release until it’s dripping down her thighs.

I think I black out for a second.

All I know is when I open my eyes my vision is a little blurry and my heart is pounding.

“Clara? Clara, are you okay?”

She turns her head, and the look on her face?

Pure fucking heat.