This winter finds Kemp Trumble in a pickle along Lake Erie as he attempts to seek out some quiet time to finish writing his next best-selling thriller. Not only does he think the lumberjack next door is loud and annoying, but he also believes the stud alluring, a heavy distraction, and sexy.<br><br>Kemp purposely tries to keep his distance from Jack Manwood, knowing they rub each other the wrong way. To no avail, Kemp seems to constantly run into Jack. No matter how much Kemp steers clear of the hot neighbor, Jack is always around, here and there, everywhere.<br><br>Unpredictably, these two different men, one from the back woods and one from the city, find common ground: drinks at Timbers, manly hugs, and the annual Lumberjack Competition, which they both attend. But are Kemp and Jack's similarities strong enough to escalate their friendly relationship into boyfriendhood? Or will they remain separated by miles of lumber and broken hearts?

Lumberjack

“Jesus, he’s hot,” I whispered to the bathroom’s semi-closed door. “A stud.”


More soap on flesh. More rinsing. More gawking.


Completely steel-hard between my legs, I watched him for another few minutes as he stood under the hot spray, soaking in the water. Pushing the boner away felt useless as a bubble of pre-ooze leaked out of my erection and inside the material. I couldn’t stay there and watch for a second more for fear of spewing a load in the cotton. Quietly I backed away from the door and slid into the bedroom. Once there, I climbed into Jack’s bed, thought of dead puppies, and felt the joint at my middle begin to deflate…deflate…deflate.


Admitting bad behavior designs a stronger man. My confession here is simple:


Jack told me, “I’m going to town for a few groceries. Milk. Eggs. Sushi. The basics. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”


Since when was sushi basic? But I wasn’t complaining.


Chapter 22