Axe-ing for Trouble (Maine Lumberjacks, #5)

by Daphne Elliot

For this moment, this kiss. This was so much more than attraction. So much deeper than lust. It was possibility.

“Trouble, be quiet.” I gaped at him, incensed. “You don’t just tell a woman to be quiet, Jude.” “You do when you want to kiss her,” he replied, lowering his mouth to mine.

“You,” she continued poking my bare chest, “are sluttier than a pair of gray sweatpants, so you do not get to judge me.” I held my hands up. “I wasn’t judging. I promise. I only got a little possessive.” Grasping at straws, desperate to placate her, I kissed her neck. “Forgive me, Trouble. I’m drunk on you. The smell of you, the taste of your skin. Don’t blame me for things I say while under the influence.”

“I told you I’d do anything to protect you.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “And I meant it. You are brave and passionate and infuriatingly reckless. But you’re mine. And no one hurts my girl.” That single word hung in the air. Mine.

Mine.

“Most days I don’t feel much. I do the things I have to do and try to enjoy my life. But for so long, there wasn’t a single thing that could tear me out of bed in the morning. Nothing that felt like fire shooting through my veins.”

“When I’m with you, I’m hit with emotions I never thought I was capable of, and I want things I didn’t even realize existed. You woke me up, Trouble. I’m here because I believe in you and I’m in love with you.”

“When will this end?” She sighed. I looped my arm around her waist. “Soon. We’ll come back from this. Stronger and better than ever. Because you, like my beloved forest, are pure wild.”

“Tell me, Mila,” I said, leaning back to assess the red mark I’d left on her ass. It was just visible in the firelight. “Who do you belong to?” “You.” She threw her head back and screamed. “I belong to you.” “Good girl.”