So I Married A Rockstar - Season 2

Ch. 23: Sexy Rockstar and Rugged Woodsman

I'd seen Finn dance, sing, fuck me until I couldn't remember my own name, and I'd thought nothing could be sexier than that.

I was wrong.

Finn gripped the axe with both hands, swinging it high into the air before bringing it down onto a log, which split down the middle, splinters scattering into the snow. He tossed the two halves onto the growing pile, then grabbed another log, positioning it in place before raising the axe again.

I couldn't see his muscles flexing beneath his clothes, but I'd seen him naked enough times now that I know exactly what they looked like. Heat curled through me. If only it was warm enough for him to do this shirtless.

The axe flashed down.

The log split in two.

My panties were wet.

"I think I just came a little," I announced.

Finn paused, one half of the split log in hand. "What?"

"Just a little," I reiterated, holding my thumb and forefinger close together to demonstrate.

Finn looked around at the wood he'd already chopped.

Earlier this morning we'd realised we were running low on fuel for the stove, and we'd headed outside to fetch more from the huge stacks that Finn had around one side of the house. Some of the logs had been too big for the stove, so Finn had promptly grabbed an axe and started cutting them down to size, while I watched and drooled.

"This is turning you on?" Finn said.

"The combination of sexy rockstar and rugged woodsman? Abso-fucking-lutely," I said.

Finn looked amused.

"Oh please, like you wouldn't be hard as rock if you saw me doing something cute and girly like, I don't know, baking a pie," I said.

He raised an eyebrow. "Baking pies is cute and girly?"

"It could be."

"I do like pie," he mused.

Damn it, now I was going to have to bake him a pie.

Finn fetched another log, and I savoured the view of him wielding that axe like some long-ago warrior.

"Sorry to ruin your fun, but I think we've got enough," Finn said, tossing the split log onto the pile.

I deflated.

Maybe we'd need to come out again in a few days, and then I could enjoy the show all over again. It all depended on how long the snow lasted. I cast a dark eye over the thick white blankets that were draped over the world.

Don't you dare melt yet, you bastard.

We gathered the logs – or rather Finn gathered a huge armful, and I took the three or four that my puny arms could handle – and took them inside. Finn dumped them into the basket by the stove, then straightened, dusting off his hands.

"You want to help me make lunch, or do I need to go hunt something down in the woods like a caveman?" he asked.

"Actually, that would be pretty sexy," I said.

"If the caveman hunts the food, does the cavewoman prepare it?" Finn asked.

"Maybe."

"Really? You'd be okay with slicing an animal open, skinning it, ripping out all the parts you can't eat, cutting up the parts you can? You want to get your hands stuck into all the blood and guts?" Finn's eyes twinkled; he was enjoying this.