She only moaned in response, eyes fluttering as he undid his belt, let his thick cock spring free, and teased the head between her thighs. He ran it over her slick folds, spreading her wetness before sinking inside her in one slow, relentless thrust.
Evelyn gasped, then moaned, her nails scraping against the wood as Jack began to move—deep, deliberate strokes that echoed through the cabin.
“You’re thicker than I remembered,” she panted. “So damn good…”
“Say my name,” he growled, thrusting harder, grabbing her hips as her body started to tremble.
“Jack,” she cried, louder now. “Harder.”
And he gave her exactly what she needed.
Her moans echoed out into the quiet woods… where someone was already watching.
Darren Marks, local wildlife photographer and general nosy neighbor, had seen Evelyn’s car outside. Curiosity had gotten the better of him. He’d always had a thing for her in town meetings—older, statuesque, dripping with elegance. Seeing her here, sneaking into Jack’s cabin, well… Darren couldn’t help himself.
He crept to the edge of the trees, peering through the windows with his telephoto lens.
What he saw made his breath catch.
Evelyn, bent over the table, skirt hitched up, ass bare and bouncing as Jack pounded into her from behind. Her blouse had come undone, swinging open with every thrust, revealing the sway of her breasts beneath her lace bra.
And Jack—shirt gone, muscles rippling, hair damp with sweat, face intense—looked like some primal god.
Darren felt his cock throb in his pants. He knew he should look away. But he didn’t.
Inside, Evelyn cried out—her climax building, legs trembling—and Jack held her tighter, driving in with punishing rhythm.
Outside, Darren unzipped his jeans, breath shaky, and let his arousal take over. He couldn’t stop watching.
Back inside, Evelyn came with a scream, body shaking violently beneath Jack’s grip. He wasn’t far behind—just a few more strokes and he groaned, spilling deep inside her, hips jerking as he released.
They collapsed over the table, Evelyn gasping, Jack’s hand tangled in her hair, both of them soaked and wrecked.
After a few quiet minutes, Evelyn turned her head and whispered, “Do you think anyone saw us?”
Jack chuckled, brushing her hair back. “If they did, they’ll never forget it.”
Outside, Darren zipped up quickly, guilt and lust battling in his eyes as he slipped back into the woods… unsure if he’d just watched something he’d regret—or something he’d never stop thinking about.
The scent of sweat, lust, and aged cedar filled Jack’s workshop.
Evelyn leaned back against the heavy table, chest heaving, blouse rumpled and gaping open, her flushed skin still warm from the way Jack had taken her—slow at first, then with wild, years-long hunger. Her lipstick was smudged, her hair a mess, and her thighs still trembled from the last wave of pleasure that had rolled through her like a storm.
Jack stood between her legs, still catching his breath, shirt unbuttoned and damp against his broad chest, jeans hanging loose on his hips. He had one hand braced on the table beside her, the other resting gently against her thigh—his thumb lazily stroking the soft skin there.
“Still think you’re the one in control?” he murmured, lips ghosting over her jaw.
Evelyn let out a breathless laugh, brushing her hand across his chest. “You’re lucky I’ve always had a soft spot for rebels, Jack Johnson.”
Jack smirked. “You’re lucky I’ve always had a thing for women who pretend they’re not completely undone.”
They stayed like that for a moment—just the sound of the woods outside, the slow thud of their heartbeats, and the subtle creak of the table beneath them.
Then Jack stilled.
He lifted his head, narrowing his eyes toward the far end of the workshop, where the side doors opened out into the forest. Evelyn followed his gaze—and froze.
A figure stood just beyond the shadow line of the trees, near the tall woodpile. Not moving. Watching.
“Someone’s out there,” Jack said under his breath, grabbing his shirt from the floor and shrugging it on, leaving it open over his bare torso. “Stay here.”
Evelyn fixed her blouse hastily, lips parted as adrenaline prickled over her skin. “Do you recognize him?”
Jack stepped down from the platform, walking slowly but with purpose, his body still radiating heat, presence, and that damn musk that got under everyone’s skin. As he neared the door, the figure stepped into the light.
“Darren,” Jack said evenly.
The young man—mid-twenties, lean and wiry in that rough boyish way—stood stiffly, his arms crossed, eyes flicking from Jack’s open shirt to Evelyn’s silhouette behind him.
Jack saw it all in an instant: the jealousy, the confusion… and something darker. Want. Darren had wanted Evelyn. Or maybe, Jack. Maybe both.
“You were just gonna watch?” Jack asked, voice low, half amused.
Darren’s jaw clenched. “Didn’t know it was you she was with,” he muttered. “Saw her car. I thought—”
Jack stepped closer, filling the space with his thick, dominant presence. “You thought you’d sneak a peek. Couldn’t help yourself.”
Darren said nothing. His breathing was shallow. His eyes kept flicking to Jack’s exposed chest, the curve of his shoulder, the way his jeans still hung low from what had just happened.
“You always that curious?” Jack’s tone sharpened just slightly, teasing, testing. “Or is this the first time you’ve watched someone else fuck the woman you want?”
Darren’s ears turned red, but he didn’t back away. “She always talked about you. Even back then.”
Jack tilted his head, reading him. “And what about you, Darren?”
“What about me?”
“You been thinking about me too?”
There was a long silence.
Jack watched the tension build in Darren’s throat, the struggle behind his eyes. He could practically feel the war raging inside the guy—the shame, the curiosity, the slow unraveling.
Evelyn stepped out from behind Jack now, composed but flushed, her blouse tugged back into place, though her body still glowed with the aftermath. She looked at Darren with something between amusement and fascination.
“Maybe you should let him come inside,” she said softly, to Jack. “Let him see how this really works.”
Jack raised an eyebrow at her, then turned back to Darren.
“You heard her.”
Darren hesitated. Then stepped forward.
Jack let him pass, then followed him back into the workshop. Darren’s gaze moved over the space—the overturned chair, the table still damp from Evelyn’s back, the scent thick in the air. Jack came up behind him and closed the door.
“You came here looking for something, Darren,” Jack said, voice low and firm.
Darren nodded, almost imperceptibly.
Jack stepped closer, invading the smaller man’s space now, his chest nearly brushing Darren’s back.
“You ever been with a man before?”
A pause.
“No.”
Jack leaned in, lips just beside Darren’s ear. “You ever wanted to be?”
Darren’s breath caught, but he didn’t pull away.
Jack placed a hand on Darren’s waist. “You think you were watching Evelyn. But your eyes were on me.”
Darren let out a shaky exhale. “I don’t know what I want.”
Jack smirked against his skin. “Then let me show you.”
Evelyn watched from the shadows, her hand slowly rising to her mouth—not out of shock, but arousal. Her pupils were wide, her breath shallow. She was watching something rare, something unspeakably hot unfold right in front of her.
Jack moved around Darren, standing face-to-face now. He cupped the younger man’s jaw, firm but not rough.
“You’re safe here,” Jack said, voice low, anchoring. “But if you want this… if you want me… say it.”
The silence hung between them for a moment—electric, tense, and charged.
Then Darren spoke, almost a whisper. “I want you.”
Jack kissed him—hard and sure.
And Evelyn’s breath caught again.