Taken by the Hunky Lumberjack : An Age Gap Daddy Dom Romance (Lumberjacks Daddies of Sweet Pine City Book 1) Read online

  Taken by the Hunky Lumberjack

  LUMBERJACKS DADDIES OF SWEET PINE CITY SERIES

  PENNY SNOAK

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  ALSO BY PENNY SNOAK

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  Kaylen

  As I sip my coffee and psyche myself up for the start of the hike, I hear the man at the counter say, “Lane! How the hell are you? We never see you in town.”

  I turn my head just as the man responds. “What the hell are you talking about? Sweet Pine City is my home.” I can tell the men are joking with each other and talking but I don’t hear a damned thing. Well, I hear it all, I just don’t comprehend it.

  If I somehow magically receive the power of creation and decide to craft a perfect man… That’s this guy Lane. God! He’s tall. He’s muscular like some kind of Ancient Greek hero. He wears jeans that show off his muscular legs and, as soon as he turns around, will show me his perfect ass, I’m sure. Tucked into those jeans is a flannel shirt, framed by a down jacket.

  His reddish-brown beard looks like something you see in a magazine dedicated to greatest beards of all time. His eyes are somehow extraordinarily expressive but also stern to the point of scary. He sees me looking at him and I immediately look back at my coffee, my cheeks growing hot as hell from embarrassment.

  I studiously avoid looking anywhere other than the creamy brown surface of the coffee in my cup and do all I can to be unnoticeable.

  It doesn’t work.

  “Did you just get back from camping?” I turn and see him. His eyes are stern. His question almost sounds like a warning.

  “No,” I say. “I’m going out now.”

  “By yourself?” Again, his voice is stern. I nod and he says in a voice that can’t possibly be ignored, “Use your words.”

  I swallow hard and feel a tingle at my nipples. The tingle is not just because this man is like some kind of lumberjack god but also because that phrase reminds me of some of the sexy romance novels I read. I gulp and say, “Yes, by myself.”

  “You can’t,” he says. He has such a damned commanding tone.

  “What? Why?” I realize I almost squeak the words.

  “Heavy snowfall is coming. There’s nowhere safe to camp for an amateur tonight, especially not alone.”

  Now, I’m irritated. “What makes you think I’m an amateur?” I snap.

  “Everything,” he says. “Your clothes, your tent, and your backpack are exactly what an amateur would buy. You’ve bought everything the marketing companies tell you is important. Don’t go out. It will end badly.” I’m about to protest but he turns around and walks out the door. My irritation disappears because I finally get sight of his ass. For the love of God, it’s a perfect ass. Everything about this man is perfect.

  I finish my coffee, grab my stuff and walk out. “You still going out?” the guy at the counter asks.

  “Of course, I am?” I say. He starts to respond but I’m through the door before he can.

  Three hours later, as I slip into my nylon pup tent and listen to the sound of the woods, I feel triumphant about not being scared away. Of course, three hours and five minutes later, I feel something entirely different as I imagine Lane talking to me again.

  “Oh, Daddy,” I whisper, as my hands travel all over my body. I imagine Lane’s hands traveling over me, one of them squeezing my breasts while the other makes its way over my navel and down my thighs.

  Daddy. That’s a phrase I picked up from the romance novels I read. In the novels, the women are called little girls and they get to play and have fun and rely on their partners—their Daddies—to take care of them, protect them and guide them. They also get to have amazing sex with their Daddies, who are always written as strong, powerful men who take control in the bedroom and give their littles the best experience they’ve ever had.

  I would love for Lane to take control of my body and use me in any way he pleased. I have a curvy body that gives me a perfect pinup look. I imagine him loving the sight of my curves.

  I gasp as my fingers slip underneath my panties and caress my pussy, traveling softly over my clit and awakening every nerve down there so it feels like my whole body comes alight with sensation. My other hand continues to squeeze my breasts while I gently massage my pussy.

  “Oh, Daddy, yes,” I moan, more loudly than before. Out here in the wilderness, I’m not worried about being heard, so I moan again, even more loudly, “Oh, Lane!”

  Even though no one is around to hear me and Lane is miles away telling some other poor camper not to have fun tonight, calling his name out loud seems deliciously dangerous and I feel sparks run through me. I call it again, “Oh, Lane!” and shudder as a wave of pleasure courses through me.

  I imagine his deep, stern, sexy voice talking to me as his hands take control of my body. Do you want me inside you, little girl?

  Even imagining him calling me little girl is enough to make me gasp and moan. My clit begins to swell and my pussy shivers again and I can tell I’m already close. I nod in response to the imaginary Lane and imagine him commanding me, Use your words, little girl.

  I shudder and scream, “I want you inside me, Daddy!” so loudly that even though I am miles from civilization, I feel a brief rush of fear that someone might have heard me. I glance quickly around the tent but of course, it is empty.

  Emboldened once more, I slip two fingers inside me. I gasp as I slowly tease them into my pussy. I don’t normally start with two fingers right away but one finger just doesn’t seem enough to do justice to the fantasy of Lane’s thick cock entering me.

  “Oh, Lane!” I cry. “Oh, Daddy!”

  Then my orgasm rolls over me like an avalanche. I scream and writhe and moan, rolling side to side in the tent and crying over and over, “Daddy! Lane! Daddy!”

  I’ve never come so quickly after putting fingers inside me before, so I continue to thrust wildly, desperate to extend the fantasy as long as possible.

  Eventually, the sensations become too much to bear and I can no longer actively participate in the fantasy but lie still as my climax rolls through me, causing me to gasp and moan and shiver as the waves of pleasure course through me.

  “Oh, Daddy,” I moan when I am finished.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Lane

  I guess to an extent, I feel like an asshole for listening at the edge of the campsite. I mean, I suppose I can be forgiven since she calls out my name as she masturbates. I don’t know if any man can resist that. I feel less guilty about the creepiness of it all than I feel because every minute right now is critical. As it is, the way back will be dangerous. I can smell it in the air. I can feel it in the air, and I know it’s going to be a damned bad storm.

  Daddy.

  That’s the part of her crying out I find most appealing. Well, I guess I find the fact that she used that while also crying out my name the most appealing. The fact that she has incredible curves doesn’t help at all. She’s striking, really beautiful. I love that she isn’t one of those anorexic looking girls. She’s athletic but she has curves in all the right places. That’s really appealing to me. Damn it, everything about this girl is appealing except for the fact that she’s in danger and needs my help. Okay, who the hell am I trying to kid. It appeals to me a great deal that she needs my help. I can’t pretend it doesn’t. I even like that she needs my help because she didn’t listen to me.

  I don’t like the danger part, though.

  I count to thirty to try to allow her to believe I didn’t hear everything she did. “Ho, the camp!” I cry.

  I hear mad scrambling in the tent and then she pokes her head out. “You,” she says in a voice of wonder.

  “You can’t camp here,” I say. “We need to leave.”

  Her eyes narrow and she says, “Maybe I’m not the most experienced hiker on Earth but I’m fine. Thank you for your concern and go away.” Jesus, the brattiness in her tone is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard, like she’s trying to seduce me.

  I say to her, “Do you have a cell phone with you?”

  She shakes her head. “I never bring a cell phone when I camp, which I do all the time. I never bring anything personal or anything I’m afraid of losing. Does that sound amateur to you?”

  I smile. “Okay, I just wanted to see what you absolutely needed to bring.” I walk toward the tent.

  “Bring? What do you mean?”

  “You’re going to safety right now.”

  She steps out of the tent and puts her hands on her hips. “I’m not going anywhere and you can just—” Her words disappear as I lift her up and throw her over my shoulder like a bag of flour. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, too shocked. Then, she beats at my back and kicks her legs. I land a hard spank on her as and she yelps again. “Who the hell do you think…”

  Her words disappear when she hears the thunder. She stops struggling all together as the sudden blanket of snow
engulfs us. I unzip my overcoat and move her, spreading her legs a putting them around my torso. “Hold on,” I say.

  She puts her arms around me and I zip the jacket up I use one hand to steady her and it’s not lost on me that she’s steadied because I take hold of her ass.

  A part of me wants to apologize to her for the undignified manner in which I carry her. A larger part of me thinks it serves her right for wanting to be a brat and insist that she knows more about the mountains than me, despite the fact that I’ve lived here my entire life and spent the entire adult portion of that life working here too.

  The largest part of me wants to know what her body would feel like if neither of us were burdened by clothing. I push that thought out of my head and begin the long, dangerous ascent.

  “Where are we going?” she shouts. Already the storm is so loud that it’s difficult to hear her over the howling of the wind and the ever increasing blasts of snow that frost the fur-lined hood and sleeves of my coat and dust my beard so I look like some mountain man version of Santa Claus, except it’s not a sack of toys I’m carrying but a petite, spirited, beautiful little girl.

  “It’s too late to head back to town!” I shout over the wind. “I’m taking you to my cabin!”

  Once more, I feel a little awkward. First, I eavesdropped while she masturbated and now I’m literally carrying her through the forest to my secluded cabin in the woods in the middle of a snowstorm that will make it impossible for anyone to find us at least until the storm passes.

  I feel awkward but I don’t feel guilty. She should have listened to me. For the first time, my irritation manages to bubble up through my attraction to her and the awkward feeling of carrying a grown adult up the mountain like a baby.

  Every winter, it feels like I encounter at least a half-dozen amateur adventure seekers laden with hundreds of dollars’ worth of tourist trap gear who think they can go anywhere anytime they please without regard for the weather and other threats like bears, mountain lions, and wolves. Most of them, at least, heed my stern warning to stay in town but there’s always one who thinks they know better and gets himself or herself into trouble.

  This one shivers and presses against me and my frustration melts away so I only feel sympathy.

  “It’s okay, little girl,” I say before I can stop myself. “I’ll keep you safe.”

  My words seem to relax her and I turn my focus to the journey ahead. It takes three hours to cover the five miles to the cabin and by the time we reach it, the storm has become a full blizzard. Even I am relieved when the outline of the cabin is finally discernible through the sheets of snow that pummel us like thousands of tiny needles.

  We reach the cabin and I set the girl down. She stands, shivering and looking at her feet, clearly embarrassed at putting herself and now me in this situation.

  I gesture to the bathroom down the hall. “Why don’t you take off your wet clothes and take a warm shower? There’s a robe hanging on the inside of the door. You can wear that until your clothes dry. I’m going to start the generator so you can have lights and hot water. Then I’ll get a fire going. Sound good?”

  She nods meekly and I say sternly, “Use your words, little girl.”

  She jumps and gasps a little and color comes to her cheeks as she responds breathily, “Yes, Daddy.”

  I don’t think she realizes she says it and I resist the urge to point it out but my body definitely responds and I quickly turn and head to the back of the cabin to start the generator. I installed the generator in an enclosed wooden shed attached to the cabin with only the exhaust exposed to the elements so I could run it during a storm like this and it starts readily. There’s a stack of firewood in the shed and I select two logs and take them and a handful of kindling to the fireplace in the living room.

  Soon, there’s a roaring fire going and I can remove my own soaked clothing and change into dry sweatpants and a t-shirt.

  I am about to sit in front of the fire when I hear footsteps behind me.

  I turn to see Kaylen standing in the hallway with my robe wrapped around her. She is so beautiful.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kaylen

  “I… I can never thank you,” I say. I shake my head. “No. No, that’s not true. I mean, thank you. What I’m trying to say is I can never thank you enough.”

  Lane smiles and it’s the first time I see him without a stern expression on his face. I’m amazed because as sexy as I find him with the stern, no-nonsense expression, I find him even sexier when he smiles. “Kaylen,” he says, “I did it because it was the right thing to do. You’re welcome and you can consider me thanked.”

  “No,” I say. “No… I mean… I tried to keep you from doing it!”

  He smiles again and says, “Sometimes, people need help knowing what’s best. It’s okay, little girl.”

  Little girl!

  Those words are all it takes for me to know how to thank him. I swallow hard and say, “Actually, I know how to thank you.” He tilts his head and raises and eyebrow. I shrug off the big robe and stand naked in front of him. “I know exactly how to thank you, Daddy.”

  It occurs to me as I say those words that it’s possible he calls me little girl and it has absolutely nothing to do with the age play romances I always read. I mean, it’s not that strange for a guy to call a girl that, right? He says the most beautiful thing in the world in response. No, he actually growls it. Growls! “Get over here right now, princess.”

  I hesitate just a second because his words and his tone leave me absolutely breathless. I try to wrap my head around things and I have no luck at all. The only thing I can do is force myself to snap out of it and walk toward him, a look of wonder on my face. Ordinarily, I might walk in a way that emphasizes the sensuality of my curves but at the moment I almost feel like I’m drawn toward him like some kind of automaton, a robot or something.

  I realize just how much the situation affects me when he reaches out and grabs my shoulders, pulling me to him and kissing me. I end up right between his spread legs with my knees against the couch as he kisses me. His hands are on my shoulders and his mouth is on mine but my pussy and nipples are the parts of my body responding.

  I don’t understand how I can feel like he’s caressing me in all the sensitive parts while his hands don’t leave my shoulders and he kisses me but I can guarantee in any other situation… Well, a situation like this makes, “Jesus, fuck me now!” the order of the day.

  He breaks off the kiss and I stare at him, breathing heavily. Then suddenly, he stands and before I can even wrap my head around things, he has me up in his arms, well, his arm. With it wrapped around my waist, he carries me over his hip like I’m a… well, I don’t know what guys carry like that. I guess they might carry a log like that in tandem with someone else.

  As I dangle at his side, he carries me to the room and deposits me on the bed. That’s a gentle way of saying he tosses me on the bed as though I were light as a pillow and dives between my legs before I have a chance to react.

  Not that I would have reacted with anything other than absolute approval and encouragement. Men have gone down on me before but it might be more appropriate to say boys have gone down on my before, because the difference between the awkward fumblings of my past partners and the expert caresses of Lane’s lips and tongue are so sharp it feels like the first time all over again.

  “Oh, Daddy!” I breathe, barely able to form the words as my body stiffens and shivers and stiffens again. My hands grip his shoulders, then flail in the air, then grasp at everything around me, desperate to find something to use to brace against the orgasm that I know will very soon be…

  “Oh, God, Daddy!” I shriek as the climax hits me, then washes over me, then drags me tumbling and flailing and screaming down an avalanche of pleasure. Can this be real? He hasn’t even fucked me yet and I’m cumming harder than I ever have in my life. My whole body seems like a collection of pleasure nerves that fire nonstop, seizing my muscles and contorting me as my body struggles to cope with everything I feel.

  The sensations are so powerful, I don’t even realize he’s stopped sucking me until I feel his cock slam into me and realize the sensations I thought were the most intense feelings anyone could experience were in fact only a warm up to the main event.