Halloween with the Hunk: A Lumberjack Romance (Holiday Studs Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Also By Jewel

  Halloween with the Hunk

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  Thanksgiving for Three

  Contents

  Title Page

  Also By Jewel

  Halloween with the Hunk

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  Thanksgiving for Three

  Halloween

  with the

  Hunk

  A Lumberjack Romance

  Jewel Killian

  Also By Jewel

  Once Upon A Happy Ever After Series

  Cinderella

  Beauty and the Beast

  Snow White

  Rose Red

  A quick and dirty series with kink-

  The books in this series are short reads sure to satisfy

  Holiday Studs

  Halloween with the Hunk

  Thanksgiving for Three

  Christmas Crush

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  Halloween with the Hunk

  I’d been with enough women to know which were going to make me work to get them off and which only needed a nudge. Cass? She needed less than a nudge.

  Dark hair and eyes and curves to spare— God help me. But I would not step into my old role as the town man-whore. Not now. Not ever.

  She shoved the drink in my hand. “I already told you it’s the least I can do. Now throw it back like a man and tell me how it’s possible for bugs to come out of my drain.”

  I smirked at her and did what I was told. For now. “Alright, one drink and then I do have to go.” I took the shot and explained S-traps to her. “...so when they dry up it clears the path for any creepy crawlies to creep and crawl their way in. What I can’t work out is why they didn’t have the caretaker come over and turn the water and router back on before you got here.”

  “Oh. I’m not a real renter. I’m a friend of their daughter’s. This was so last minute they probably didn’t have time to ask someone to come over.”

  I nodded. That made sense. What didn’t make sense was how much I wanted her. I had to get out of there or I’d end up throwing her over my shoulder right then and there.

  If you like your heroines smart and sexy and your heroes gorgeous, growly and delicious, then this is JUST for you. Halloween with the Hunk is packed full of all the kinky, smutty, dirty fun you're used to with safe BDSM themes and enough steamy, juicy, O’s to melt your panties. Of course, this is a complete, self-contained story with a sweet HEA, no cheating and no cliffhangers. And is just the first book in my new holiday series, “Holiday Studs”.

  1

  Cassie

  “You need to let go a little. Get out of your head and into your body, hell into the world. Maybe bang a lumberjack or something.”

  I shook my head, remembering Jeannie’s words as I stepped out of my car and into the center of the most picturesque New England town I’d ever seen. If this place wouldn’t get me out of my head, nothing would. Tree-lined and cobblestoned with little shops and markets that probably survived on their charm alone, Laurel Vermont was about as far removed from the deadlines, stress, and concrete of NYU as you could get.

  I’d mapped out my road trip, complete with rest stops, back-up rest stops and tourist attractions along the six-and-a-half hour drive and I’d done my research on the town of Laurel. I could tell you when it was founded (1892), how many residents (656), and what kind of quirky, odd things the town had to offer (local apple cider and something called a Maple Queen Crowning). I knew all that but I was in no way prepared for how beautiful the town was.

  I stood by my car and for a moment, took Jeannie’s advice— appreciating the crisp air on my cheeks, the fairy lights in the trees and shop windows and the warm glow of the setting sun before I headed to the corner store.

  Tinkling chimes sounded as I entered the shop. “Hello,” said a slender man with a graying beard. “Can I help you find anything?”

  “Oh, no thank you. I just need some essentials,” I said and went about gathering a few meals worth of food. The store, which I already knew was the best in town, was laid out better than most. No backtracking or hunting for things in aisles that didn’t make sense. I found my supplies and made it back to the counter in record time.

  “That’s good stuff there.” The man pointed to the cinnamon whiskey as I laid it and my other items on the belt. “Mix it with some of our local cider and that’ll setcha right.”

  “Ooh, good idea. Where can I find it?”

  “Don’t worry,” the man said and stepped from behind the counter. “I’ll get it for you.” He meandered to the back of the store and came back with a glass jug of fresh cider. “You staying at the Crofton House?”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “I am, how did you know?”

  He smiled, answering as he bagged my things. “After a while, you get an eye for what kind of tourist you’re helping. It’s too early for skiing and you don’t seem like the resort type. That just leaves a Cr0fton renter.”

  I nodded, wondering what it was about me that said such a thing. “It’s my friend’s parent’s house. They’re letting me stay while I get my thesis done.”

  The man’s bushy gray eyebrows raised with delight. “Thesis? Now isn’t that wonderful? Let me guess. NYU?”

  I laughed, only slightly uncomfortable at the man’s Sherlock-ing ability. “How did you know?”

  He jerked a thumb towards the front of the store. “Saw the parking sticker on your car.”

  “Ah,” I said, handing him some cash. He counted back my change. “There ya go. Enjoy your stay.”

  “Thanks.” I grabbed my bags.

  “You have a good night, miss. Just watch out for that old witch Edna. She’s on your street. Got a mean streak a mile wide.”

  “Um, sure, will do,” I said humoring him and left the shop.

  Smiling and full to the brim on small-town charm, I loaded the bags in the trunk of my almost twenty-year-old Camry and headed for Crofton House.

  The GPS said I was only ten minutes away but it was ten minutes of twisty, dark, one lane roads. By the time pulled into the cul de sac of the Cape Cod style rental, I was much less charmed by the town of Laurel. Hadn’t they ever heard of streetlights? I circled the street, squinting to see mailbox numbers in near darkness when a shadowy figure caught my attention across the street.

  I couldn’t help but laugh as a woman in all black stepped into the glow of her porch light. Frowning and muttering while her gray cat twisted circles around her legs, she looked exactly like a storybook witch, complete with a hooked nose and protruding chin. The so
ur look on her face gave me the distinct impression that she wasn’t dressed for Halloween either.

  “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” I glanced once more and she actually shook her fist at me. I laughed full out and cut the wheel to pull into Crofton House. But as I pulled into the driveway a different neighbor caught my eye.

  Standing in the lawn between the two houses, illuminated only by my headlights, was a man in jeans and work gloves. Only jeans and work gloves. I swallowed hard as I watched his powerful arms and chiseled chest flex as he swung the ax in a perfect arc, splitting the log in front of him right down the middle.

  “Holy shit.” I rolled by openly ogling him, not at all capable of being discreet. He didn’t seem to mind because when our eyes met he winked at me.

  Well, Jeannie, I might just get to bang a lumberjack after all.

  2

  Landon

  CRACK!

  The wood split right down the center, my shoulders and back burning with the effort. It was a good burn, a burn that meant you were alive. I chucked the pieces toward the pile by the house and set another log on the stump-turned-chopping-block.

  CRACK!

  The two pieces fell to the ground. There was something calming, almost meditative about physical labor and I did it as often as I could— be it at the gym or outside I always felt more alive when my body was active.

  That’s part of the reason I was back in this tiny town in the first place.

  “HEY! Keep that racket down!” Her voice was like nails on a damn chalkboard, carrying across the street and clawing at my ears.

  I sighed. “I’m almost done, sweet Edna.” She flipped me off and went back in her house, making sure to slam the door.

  I picked up another piece of wood but decided Edna was probably right. It was too dark to keep going anyway. I stacked what I could against the house, sorting out the pieces that weren’t fireplace-sized.

  I looked at those last few pieces knowing if I didn’t finish cutting them down to size it would bug me all night. So, despite Edna’s impending wrath, I took them back to the block and went to work.

  Faster than a rocket full of flying monkeys Edna was back on her porch yelling at me. “Landon! Knock off that racket! Or I’ll—”

  “Or you’ll what, Edna?” I asked with my best, sweetest smile. “You’ll continue yelling across the street like a crazy old hag?”

  “You little shit!” I couldn’t hear what else Edna had to say over the rumble of a very old, very dirty and mostly broken Camry circling the street but I definitely saw her shake a fist at me. The car paused then pulled into the driveway next to me as I ignored Edna and finished chopping.

  You know how sometimes you can feel eyes on you? That’s why I looked up. She stared so hard, so intently I could feel it. I met her eyes and I swear I don’t think I’ve ever been looked at like that before— like she wanted to eat me.

  I gave her a wink, put my head down and went back to chopping.

  Because the old me had a reputation in this suffocating place. I was known as the town womanizer, screwing any pretty thing, sometimes any group of pretties that stayed in the rental next door. But it’d been a long time since then and as much as I didn’t want to be back here, I wanted even less to step into my old role as Laurel’s man-whore.

  I chopped. I stacked. And I went inside.

  3

  Cass

  Groceries in one hand, overnight bag on my shoulder and jug of cider between my knees, I tried my best to enter the code in the key box without dropping anything. Well, sort of. A tiny part of me wanted to drop something and get Mr. Lumberjack’s attention. Then maybe he’d come over and try to help. I’d let him, of course, and then I’d invite him in, and then we’d...

  ...The key dropped into my palm and I let myself into the gorgeous Cape Cod rental, dashing my silly damsel in distress fantasy. What was wrong with me anyway? I wasn’t prone to daydreaming, especially not absurd fantasies about men I didn’t know.

  I tried to shake off the feeling that delicious man left me with and focused on getting stuff settled. But even as I took a quick tour of the house I couldn’t stop thinking about all the ways I wanted the guy next door.

  It was strange. Every guy I’d been with before— not that there were many— had treated sex like a math problem: kiss here + touch there = orgasm. Probably a side effect of dating mostly fellow economics post-grads. But the thing is, I don’t work that way. I’m sure most women don’t either. I wasn’t sure what I needed instead but I was positive whatever it was, tall, muscled and gorgeous next door had it.

  “Get it together, Cass.” I poured a shot of cinnamon whiskey, downed it, made myself a warm mug of cider and topped it with another splash of whiskey. Then I got set up at the kitchen island. Research notes, paperwork for submission and the outline for the thesis were all spread across the beautiful granite island. I pulled out my laptop and...

  “Oh, shit.” I clicked the wifi icon again, trying to will it to work. Nothing. I pulled out my phone to text Jeannie. She’d given me the network name and password but the name she gave me wasn’t in the dialog box. “Well, that’s just great.” I chucked my phone on the counter, the dreaded no signal sign still clear on the home screen.

  I was probably better off. No internet meant no binging Netflix instead of doing what I was here for. The no phone thing was a little concerning but it wasn’t like I was in the middle of nowhere. If all else failed I could ask a neighbor for help if I needed it. A tall, muscle-y neighbor.

  “Stop it. Focus.” I dove into my research and pulled up my thesis on the laptop.

  Writing had always been hard for me. I was a math and science kind of girl and dreaded the writing aspects of my classes. But after a while, I got pretty good at compensating for my shortcomings. In no time I’d completely lost myself in the work.

  Hours passed when I finally looked at the clock. It was nearly midnight. I saved my work, shut down the laptop and went upstairs to grab a quick shower before bed. I’d been looking forward to showering— the bathroom was just extravagant with a heated tile floor, jacuzzi tub and a huge shower with a rain showerhead. I got undressed, wrapped myself in a towel and turned on the water.

  Except no water came out. The pipes rattled and moaned and just as I bent to shut off the faucet, a humongous centipede came wiggling and crawling out of the drain.

  I ran screaming from the bathroom, down the stairs, and out the front door and thudded directly into the center of Mr. Lumberjack’s chest.

  4

  Landon

  I’d been pacing the entirety of the first floor for hours, still wound tighter than ever. The stress of being back here undermined the hours I spent at the chopping block. It was midnight and there was no way I was getting to sleep without letting off some steam. I threw on a shirt, grabbed my work gloves and headed back outside.

  “Edna’s gonna kill me,” I said flipping on the floodlight and headed to the side of the house. Just as I picked up the ax a scream came from the rental next door. Without thinking and ax still in hand, I ran across the yard. Poised to bust in the door, it swung open and out tumbled the girl from earlier, breathless, flushed, beautiful, and right into my arms.

  “It’s a...there’s a...something in the...” she panted, looking up at me wide-eyed and scared.

  “Stay here,” I said and went inside to see what had scared so bad she ran out of the house in just a towel. Ax at the ready, I searched the bottom level for an intruder. Finding nothing I headed upstairs, reasoning she was in a towel so upstairs was more likely than the basement. I searched all the rooms and came up empty. I double checked the closets and behind doorways but still nothing. I triple checked the bathroom and that’s when I found it.

  I didn’t blame her for screaming. It was the biggest damn centipede I’d ever seen. I grabbed some tissue, scooped it up and flushed it down the toilet.

  She was still on the porch when I came back downstairs. “Come on inside, it’s
all right. I got it for you.” She looked at me, still unsure. “I promise, I got it. I don’t blame you one bit for being scared. Those things are nasty.”

  She stepped in the house and shivered. “Blech! I just...ugh, I just CAN NOT deal with bugs. It crawled out of the drain like a horror movie!”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty common if the water’s off. Want me to check it for you?”

  She nodded and cinched her towel closer. “Thanks. I’m gonna put some clothes on.” She ran up the stairs and I got the distinct pleasure of watching her towel-clad ass bob up and down as she did. I headed to the basement and sure enough, the water was off. That was weird. Why hadn’t they sent over the caretaker to turn it back on for their renter.

  If the water was off that probably meant the router was turned off too. I went to the other end of the basement and turned the router back on.