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Hallie Bennett

Claimed by the Woodsman E-Book

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Surprise Pregnancy, Mountain Man Romance

Micah's the younger, easygoing face of the lumber company he runs with his friend, Asa, and older brother, Rhett.

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With charm to spare, he's never had trouble landing a woman...at least for a short while. But now he's ready to settle down and keep the curvy woman from the bar who's returned to his life with a little extra surprise...

Kate wants a family. After dumping her longtime boyfriend, she decides to cut loose at a friend's bachelorette party where she meets a handsome mountain man stranger. Sparks fly in a dark alley, and what was only supposed to last a night ends up having life-changing consequences...

Can these two lovers reunite to find love while dealing with the repercussions of their sexy tryst?


Content Note: Short and hot, get ready to start with a bang! A surprise baby is on the way, and this rugged lumberjack isn't about to let it or his woman go without a fight.

Narrated by Olivia Rose & Finnley Cole

Listening time is 1 hour & 45 minutes

Read Sample

From Claimed by the Woodsman

CHAPTER ONE

KATE

FOUR MONTHS EARLIER

Sherry and Charis belt out “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” at the top of their lungs from the raised stage in the back of the bar. Encouraging hoots and hollers cheer from the crowd, and I wonder how long I’m required to stay before sneaking back to my room. This weekend in the cute mountain town of High Ridge is all about Sherry’s wedding on Sunday, but I’m not cut out for late nights spent drinking and partying.

I’d actually prefer spending more time on the hiking trails leading up the mountain. The refreshingly clean air and surrounding forests provide the perfect escape from the city and a beautiful bridal location. If it were my own wedding, I couldn’t have chosen a better place.

Good thing marriage isn’t in your future anymore.

Not after the five-year relationship with my ex ended last year—a relationship that lasted years longer than necessary since George traveled so much. With him gone most of the time, it was easy to let issues slide or forget them altogether.

We maintained separate homes, and it felt more like friends than lovers when we hung out—the physical aspect of our relationship lackluster. And when he’d finally admitted to never wanting to marry or have children? Well, that was the final nail in the coffin.

At thirty-two, my biological clock ticked like a time bomb. I couldn’t afford to waste more years on someone whose plans for the future didn’t match mine.

Studying the too-crowded bar as my friends start another karaoke song, my eye catches on a man sitting towards the back, his head thrown back in laughter, blonde waves glinting under the dim bar light. Holy hell. This mountain town had its fair share of attractive men based on all the guys I saw on our trip down Main Street earlier today, but this one tops the list.

Broad shoulders and muscled arms strained his tee while a five-o’clock shadow begged to be touched. Transfixed, I continue my perusal of the stranger and search for a companion. A man like him? I’d expect a pack of gorgeous women fluttering around, eager for attention. However, it seems like he’s alone, and a brazen idea forms in my head.

I've never been the type for one-night stands, preferring the slow build of a relationship before jumping into bed. But what has my caution gotten me?

Absolutely nothing.

Except single and alone at my best friend's wedding—officially the last in our friend group who hasn’t found love. Glancing around the room and spying on couples flirting or dancing increases my ire, envy becoming a green-eyed monster on my shoulder.

I want that.

The push and pull of attraction. Even if it’s just for tonight.

My gaze wanders back to the blonde god, who’s beginning to fuel a whole host of fantasies. Of wondering what’s hiding under his tee… his jeans. Swallowing thickly at the image of firm muscles weighing heavily on my soft body, my thighs clench in need.

Wildly bad decisions are expected at bachelorette parties, right?

Tossing back a shot of the tequila sitting in front of me, salt from the rim clings to my lips, and I decide to go for it. The worst he can say is “No”, which will sting, but it's not like I'll have to see him again. Shuffling to my feet, courage and fear roil around in my stomach, mixing with the alcohol coursing through my veins.

My usual routine when it comes to hot men is to avoid them out of insecurity. A woman of average beauty and more than a few extra pounds rounding my waist, their attractiveness naturally outshines mine and makes me feel uncomfortable, since I know they’d never be interested in me romantically. But tonight’s all about risk. I’m sick of feeling like an outcast in the sea of happy couples I’m surrounded by and want to experience—just once—a night of passion with the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.

Sliding next to the stranger, my hands slap the counter in excitement, causing the man to jump at my sudden appearance.

Calm down. Don’t scare him away by being overeager.

“Need something, darlin’?” His rich, velvety voice sizzles over my skin, blazing a path to my contracting sex.

That’s never happened before…

Sex with George had been perfunctory. He’d never elicited such a reaction as this man did with three words. Imagining what else he could wring from my aroused body, my gaze drops to his mouth, then lower to the large hand wrapped around his beer bottle.

He has to agree to sleep with you first.

“I’m Kate. I’m here for my friend’s bachelorette party.” And I want you to fuck me. Pointing to Sherry on the stage, my mind scrambles for a better way to voice my desire. He follows the gesture before returning amused eyes back to me.

“Name’s Micah.” He tips his bottle towards the performance. “Why aren’t you up there with them?”

“Trust me, I’m doing everyone a favor by not singing.” A self-deprecating laugh burst out, remembering an ill-fated talent show in sixth grade. I’d never subject myself to that sort of humiliation again. Inhaling a steadying breath, I take the plunge and say, “Actually, I thought we could—”

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you!” A beautiful woman with long raven hair wraps an arm around Micah’s shoulder, and mortification sweeps through me as ice water extinguishes my brief bout of bravery. No wonder he sat alone. He was waiting on his date to arrive—not some desperate bachelorette to proposition him. A bachelorette who couldn’t hold a candle to the beautiful model pressed against him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize… Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. Have a good night.” Awkwardly backing away from the scene, I turn tail and run, needing to escape the suddenly stifling bar. At least the woman appeared before I completely humiliated myself—a paltry silver lining.

Pushing through the crowd of people, a bright “Exit” sign beckons above a rear door. I shove the heavy metal door open before stumbling into a dark alley as a welcome breeze cools the nervous sweat gathered on my forehead. A derisive chuckle echoes off the brick buildings I’m sandwiched between.

Of course, the one time I step out of my comfort zone—try to take a risk—I fall flat on my face. All the wedding festivities must have addled my brain to think I could pull off a one-night stand with a sexy stranger. Best to stick with the Georges of the world—safe and predictable with a slow build-up.

And boring. The knowledge taunts me, and my staid future looms ahead.

Ready to go to bed and forget the past fifteen minutes, I text Sherry to let her know I’m returning to my room, so she doesn’t worry about my disappearance. After the wedding will be soon enough to fill her in on tonight’s mistake. If I even bother to tell her. While she’ll praise my courage, it’ll only serve as another reminder of my embarrassing failure.

Leaning against the wall for support, head tapping lightly on the brick, I allow myself a moment to calm down when the squeak of door hinges draws my attention.

“Kate? Are you okay?”

My back straightens at the familiar voice, and surprise beats in my chest, a timpani chorus banging to life. Why did he follow me out here?

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry again for crashing your date. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Shadows play over his high cheekbones before he steps closer, forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Date? You mean Lindsey? She’s just a friend.”

“Oh.” The simple word falls between us, but I’m not sure how else to respond. They seemed like pretty close friends if she felt comfortable enough to drape her slim body over his larger one.

Micah jerks a thumb towards the bar where dull music thuds through the walls. “You looked like a woman with a plan inside, and being the obliging type of man I am, I thought I’d check to see if I could help. Feel free to tell me to take a hike if I read the situation wrong.” A boyish grin of mischief lights up his face as mine heats at having such obvious intentions.

“And you’re just a little cocky, too, huh?”

He puts a hand over his heart, intimating a wounded stance. “Now, darlin’, that hurts. Little wouldn’t be the way I’d describe it.” An exaggerated wiggle of his light brows follows, and I laugh, buoyed by his flirting.

“You’re trouble.”

“True. Ask anyone in High Ridge. But I can make it worth your while, if that’s what you want.” An inquisitive examination follows as his gaze drinks in my body from head to toe. Squirming under his inspection, I grasp at the former stings of my courage, reviving them from the brink of death at the abrupt change of circumstances.

Here’s your opportunity to accept a walk on the wild side. Say yes!

“Right here?”

His forehead crinkles in astonishment, and even I’m shocked by the suggestion. Sex in an alley behind the bar? Not romantic or responsible. More like dirty and hot.

Which is exactly what you need.

“Wherever you want. It’s your decision.” Micah moves closer, his arms caging me in. Spicy cologne overrides the faint musty smell of the alley, wrapping me in an intoxicating cloud of his scent.

“I want you here. Now.” Before fear or common sense rushes in to change my mind.

“A woman after my own heart,” he murmurs, brushing his lips over mine—a prelude to what’s coming. Rough palms skim over my hips until he reaches the hem of my navy sundress. “And so conveniently prepared. Was this part of your plan all along? Night on the town with your girls before seducing some lucky man into fucking this wet cunt? Glad I made the cut.”

Oh god, so am I.

Any chance of a coherent response evaporates. No one has ever spoken to me this way, and I don’t know how to handle it except for enthusiastically returning his kiss with everything I’ve got. Tugging roughly on his blonde hair, our mouths meet again in a frenzied embrace while his fingers slip under the hem of my dress to rest against the soaked center of my panties.

I can’t believe how aroused I am. I literally saw Micah and exchanged a few sentences. Nothing spectacular, yet there’s an ache in my core, a readying for his touch.

Perhaps I needed this more than I thought.

Forging my own exploratory path, one hand scrambles under his tee to find hard muscles rippling along a taut stomach—a marked difference from my past sexual exploits—and a frisson of insecurity slinks through my desire.

Nothing about me is fit or firm. I like sweet treats and knitting while watching Hallmark movies.

Damn, I sound like a grandma.

Except grandmas don’t usually fuck strangers behind bars…

The thought reignites my confidence; I’m young—in the prime of my life. So what if I’m curvier than he might be used to? By the way his burgeoning cock is digging into my hip, I don’t think he minds.

“It was either you or the man at the end of the bar dressed in leather,” I quip, finally able to form some kind of response to his earlier comment.

“Harold? I heard he’s got an extra toe on his right foot and smells like sour milk.” The ridiculous description makes me giggle, something I’ve never done during sex, and it’s an odd combination—this mix of lust and laughter.

“An extra toe sounds interesting…”

Micah surges past the cotton barrier of my panties to plunge deep into my pussy, palm slapping my clit. The swift move draws a yelp of surprise before I settle into the rough stroke of his fingers. Forget slow build-up. This was a dominant display of his control over me.

“You got a secret foot fetish I should know about?” he grunts, increasing the rapid pace of his thrusting.

A swell of endorphins runs beneath my skin as an orgasm builds, making it harder to concentrate on flirty banter. This may be the fastest a man’s made me come, a fact Micah would love to hear, I’m sure. An air of assurance emanates from him; he knows he’s skilled. But the arrogance doesn’t bother me, especially when I’m on the receiving end of his particular talents.

“A lady never reveals all of her secrets.”

“But she’ll come on my hand before soaking my dick? Is that how the saying goes?” The teasing taunt goes unanswered as my body finally peaks—legs turning to jelly—the force of Micah’s weight on mine the only thing keeping me upright.

A steep crash of fatigue threatens after such an intense spike of pleasure.

Don’t wimp out now or you’ll miss the main attraction.

Right. He still hasn’t properly fucked me yet. And like a rubber band, I bounce back into awareness; I definitely don’t want to miss that.

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