Blacksmith (A Real Man, 10) Read online

  Blacksmith

  A Real Man, 10

  Jenika Snow

  Contents

  Copyright

  A Real Man Series

  Blacksmith

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Newsletter

  Coming Next

  Excerpt: Riding Her Rough (Death’s Door MC, 1)

  About the Author

  BLACKSMITH (A Real Man, 10)

  By Jenika Snow

  www.JenikaSnow.com

  [email protected]

  Copyright © February 2017 by Jenika Snow

  First E-book Publication: February 2017

  Editors: Kasi Alexander / Lea Ann Schafer

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.

  Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.

  Book 1: Lumberjack

  Book 2: Virgin

  Book 3: Baby Fever

  Book 3.5: A Real Man: Volume One

  Book 4: Experienced

  Book 5: Roommate

  Book 6: Arrogant

  Book 7: Feral

  Book 8: Dirty

  Book 9: Viking

  Book 10: Blacksmith

  Steel isn’t the only thing that’s hard.

  Maddie

  Deacon was older than me, but I wanted him regardless. He had this raw edge to him, this primal aura surrounding him that made me feel wholly feminine. He was the epitome of a man…a real man. Even his profession was masculine: a blacksmith. I had no doubt he knew how to work his hands over a woman, how to use them to make her feel the soft and hard sides of him.

  What I wanted was for him to be my first…my only.

  Deacon

  She thought I didn’t see her watching me, that I didn’t know she wanted me.

  I knew, and I wanted her with a fierceness that rivaled anything else.

  What Maddie didn’t know was I’d already claimed her. There was no other woman for me but her. I was a possessive bastard, territorial when it came to her. The time had finally come to make her mine. I’d show her how primal I really was, how rough I liked it, how much I wanted to make her scream my name. I’d show her how a man took care of his woman in all the ways that counted.

  She’d be mine. Only mine.

  Warning: You like your heroes with a touch of caveman? Look no further because Deacon has it going on. He’s all man, and then some. Hold on tight because this story packs a punch, being unbelievable in the best of ways and having insta-everything.

  1

  Maddie

  I had a death grip on my bag, my palms hurting from how strongly I was holding on to the damn strap. But God, I didn’t care. The sight before me had everything else dimming in comparison.

  Deacon McKnight.

  The only reason I knew his name was because I was nosy as hell, asking about him, my fascination like an obsession. We’d never spoken, and to my knowledge he’d never even noticed me.

  But I sure as hell have noticed him.

  If ever there was a person who could be the poster boy for what a real man looked like, Deacon would be front and center.

  The bay doors to his shop were open, and although it wasn’t hot out, I could see sweat covering his hard, muscular form. I swallowed. If anyone were to see me gawking at Deacon, they’d think I had some issues. I didn’t give one shit. Walking by his shop every day on my way to the community college I attended was the highlight of my damn day. The only downside was when I finally pulled myself away from the perfect male specimen that he was, I was breathless, wet, needy, and wishing I had someone to relieve the pent-up arousal that burned in me.

  I want Deacon to be that someone. I want him to show me with those big, strong hands, the ones stained from his work, exactly how he likes it.

  And I bet he liked it rough, bet he could really dominate and control a situation, have a woman begging for more.

  I might be a virgin, might not be experienced in anything more than a hand job and some oral, but God, I wanted to learn a hell of a lot from Deacon. I wanted him to show me how a real man handled a woman.

  And no doubt he could.

  Deacon

  I set my hammer on my anvil, wiped my hands on my welding bib, and stared at her. My gaze focused on her ass, those two luscious globes moving just under her jeans as she walked away.

  I might not know her, hadn’t even said one fucking word to her, but none of that mattered.

  She thought I didn’t know she watched me every day. I did.

  She might think I didn’t know she wanted me. I did.

  What she didn’t know was that I wanted her, that I’d claimed her as mine from the moment I saw her. She was young as fuck, but old enough to be in college. I saw the bag she carried with the University logo on it. At the end of the day she’d be mine regardless.

  Only when she’d rounded a corner and I couldn’t see her anymore did I go back to work. I went over to the forge, picked up the tongs, and grabbed the piece of metal out. When I had it on the anvil, I picked up my hammer and went to work creating the custom sword a client had ordered. I didn’t know what the hell someone needed a sword for in this day and age, but I also didn’t ask questions. They paid so I made whatever they wanted.

  The bang of my hammer on the metal was a fucking symphony to my ears.

  But I knew hearing her scream my name would be even sweeter.

  I wasn’t going to wait anymore. I’d make her mine, make her see that there would be no other man for her. I’d be the only one who touched her, the only one who knew how she was in bed, bent over a counter, hell, anywhere I saw fit. It would be my cock she felt, my cock she grew addicted to.

  I’d make her never want for anything again, because my need for her—my obsession—went way behind sitting back and hoping fate would drop her in my lap.

  2

  Maddie

  I trudged through the rain, cursing the weather that decided to open up and drench me midway home. The coat I wore wasn’t waterproof, and I was soaked clean through to my skin. A car sped by, of course hitting a puddle, splashing my ass with dirty water. I stopped, turned my head and glared at the vehicle. And because I was pissed already, I lifted my hand and gave them the one-finger salute.

  The sound of a car behind me had everything in my body tensing. I expected another shower of grime from the street, but when nothing happened, I turned. A dark SUV sat idling a few feet from me, and I would have been cautious if not for the fact that I saw Deacon was the driver. In that instant nothing else seemed to matter. There was no rain, my clothes weren’t plastered to my skin, and I probably didn’t look like a homeless chick needing a ride.

  All I was focused on was the fact that he watched me, the overcast sky coupled with his headlights partially hiding him. The sound of the passenger window rolling down had me moving toward him. Maybe I should have been cautious. I didn’t know him, not really. Others told me he was a decent man, despite his aloofness, but still I never took the initiative to get to know h
im.

  I moved closer, my heart continuing thumping wildly in my chest. I found myself standing by the passenger-side window, water dripping from my hair, probably making the already dark strands look like spilled ink.

  He had one hand on the steering wheel, his body seeming massive in the vehicle. God, he had to be like six foot five, nearing two hundred and fifty pounds. What the hell am I doing, taking his measurements? But it was hard not to notice him. He was just … huge. His expression was neutral, but I could see he was aware of who I was, even though I was sure he’d never even looked my way. It’s not like we talked, ever.

  “You’re wet.”

  Yes, yes I am, but not because of the rain.

  My thoughts had my cheeks heating, and the instinct to cover my face, as if he could read my mind, slammed into me. But I kept my hands at my sides, forcing myself to keep eye contact, and when I saw the corner of his mouth lift, I felt my breath stall. His short, dark hair was slightly mussed, as if he’d run his hands through it, not caring if it was messed up. I wanted to check him out more, simply because it turned me on, but I forced myself not to.

  “You want a ride?”

  When I didn’t answer right away, he lifted a brow.

  “Um,” I said and glanced down at his seat. It was leather, but I’d get it soaked. “Do you normally offer women you don’t know a lift?”

  He smirked, and damn, did it suit him well.

  “I know you rent the old Anderson place, yeah?”

  I smoothed my hands down my soaked leggings. “Yeah.”

  “And you walk by my shop every day,” he said without making it a question.

  I nodded.

  “I’m Deacon and you’re…” The way he said it wasn’t so much of a question, not like it should have been.

  “Maddie.” This weird moment passed between us, and I swear the air got thick, hot.

  “Well, Maddie, if you want a ride, I can take you home. Or you can walk in the rain.” I saw the way he eyed me, and I felt this tingling in the most intimate parts of me. “You’re pretty fucking soaked, so I guess it doesn’t matter either way.”

  His coarse language aroused me for some reason. And maybe this was stupid. Maybe getting into a car with a guy I didn’t know, even if my place was right down the road from his shop and I saw him every day, could get me killed, but I found myself pushing all of that to the side. I’d heard enough about Deacon to know he’d lived here a long time, was liked in the community, and although he stayed to himself, he was a decent man.

  “I’ll get everything wet.” I felt my cheeks heat again, because in my mind I’d taken that as the dirty variety. When he didn’t say anything, I glanced up. The expression he gave me was…feral.

  He looked me up and down again—well, as much of me as he could see. “I’m good with you getting it wet.”

  Oh. God.

  “Come on in. You’re still a good ways from your place.”

  And I found myself opening the door and climbing in, not sure what in the hell had gotten into me. But also never having felt this kind of rush in my life before.

  It felt good. Damn good.

  3

  Deacon

  I pulled to a stop in front of her house, turned and looked at Maddie, and could see how nervous she was. Good. Her being on edge turned me the fuck on. Her clothes were soaked clean through, her hair matted to her head and face. I wanted to reach out with my calloused, dirty hands and push the strands away. I wanted to grab a chunk of the locks and yank her head back, exposing her throat, then lean forward and lick and suck at her pale flesh. I lowered my gaze, taking in the fact her shirt molded to her breasts, the mounds large, well more than a handful. Her nipples were hard, the twin protrusions making my cock harden. I could see her bra through the white material, the lacy blue undergarment needing to be torn away so I could get a nice long look at her tits.

  “Thanks for the ride,” she said and reached for the handle.

  I was a second away from keeping her in this car, pulling her on top of me, and sucking on her breasts, making her nipples harder through her top. I didn’t even know this girl, not really, but I would soon enough.

  She glanced over her shoulder at me, her pupils dilated, her mouth parted. I affected her, maybe not in a way she was comfortable with, but in a way nonetheless.

  I nodded, because saying anything would have come out in a desperate groan. And then I watched her leave the car, walk up to the front door, and disappear behind it.

  I’d claim her soon enough, and once I did, I wasn’t letting go. Because once I saw something I wanted…it was mine.

  Maddie

  It had only been a few days since Deacon had driven me home, the weekend making it so I didn’t have a legitimate reason to walk by his shop on my way to classes. It might have only been a short time since I’d been close enough to him that I’d felt how virile he was, how potent and masculine he was, but it seemed like a lifetime.

  “You okay?” my roommate, Robin, asked, her mouth full of cereal, her gaze locked on me.

  I nodded, transfixed at the milk that dripped off her spoon and back into the bowl.

  “Really? Because you seem out of it.” She took another bite of cereal, her brows knitted.

  I was a shit liar, and I sure as hell didn’t know how to talk to her about this. It wasn’t like we were best friends. We roomed together, split the bills, and did our own thing.

  “I’m fine,” I lied. “I have school shit I’m dealing with.” As if that answered everything, she looked back at her phone, her concern for me gone. I stared down at my cup of tea, the liquid having long since gone cold. I wanted to talk to Deacon, to see him again, but I also didn’t want to come across as being one of those people who thought something could be there when it wasn’t.

  The buzzer on the door went off, and Robin got up to answer it. My thoughts were consuming me as I sat there, trying to think about what in the hell I was going to do with the Deacon situation. When I felt someone watching me, I lifted my head to see Robin standing there with this strange look on her face.

  “What?” I asked, feeling my brows pull down as confusion filled me. She didn’t answer right away, but I saw the way her throat worked as she swallowed, her nervousness tangible. “What is it?”

  “Someone’s here to see you.”

  Okay. I didn’t know why she was acting so weird about it. I had study groups here, was even expecting a couple of people, albeit not until later. I got up and walked over to her. I knew the conflict was clear on my face—hell, I felt it all the way into my bones. I rounded the corner and saw who stood in the foyer by the front door.

  Deacon.

  He looked so big, his body almost blocking out the front door, his strength and masculinity filling the small space.

  “Hi,” I managed to say, proud of myself for actually being able to form a coherent word. I moved closer to him, feeling his body heat instantly, smelling the cologne he wore, or maybe that was just his natural scent. Either way it was so damn attractive. When I was right in front of him, I craned my neck to look into his face. “What are you doing here?” My palms were sweaty, my heart was racing, and the expression on his face had these weird emotions filling me. Standing next to him made me feel like I was on this tightrope, the abyss beneath me, and the very real threat of falling hanging over me.

  “I wanted to see you,” he said so matter-of-factly that I knew this man didn’t use any filters when he spoke. He said what he meant, holding nothing back, and giving no fucks about what others thought.

  “You wanted to see me?” I repeated, my entire body buzzing with his close proximity. I suppose that could have meant anything, but I knew what I’d like it to mean.

  He took a step toward me, and I found myself moving one back. I glanced over my shoulder at Robin and saw she was watching us. She ducked back into the kitchen before I could say anything to her. When I was staring at Deacon again, I felt sweat start to bloom between my breasts. Go
d, he was so close.

  “I wanted to see you,” he stated again, not showing any emotion.

  “Why?” I could have slapped my hand over my mouth for saying that. He smirked, though, the corner of his mouth rising, this flash of amusement covering his face for just a second.

  “Because I want to take you out. I want to spend time with you.”

  Oh good God.

  Was this really happening? I felt like maybe I was dreaming, or maybe I’d fallen into some alternate dimension where fantasies come to life. I opened my mouth, not sure what to say, or if I could say anything at all. I found myself moving another step back, as if on instinct. It was like my body knew the power this man had over me, making me feel unstable, like a bowl filled with warm pudding.

  Still he moved closer. The wall stopping my retreat, not that I wanted to escape, but my body sensing this man was…everything. It was clear he didn’t care that Robin was just in the other room, barely anything separating us.

  He placed his hands beside my head and leaned in. He smelled good, like clean man, but one who’d been working all day. It was this contradictory aroma that made me feel tingly in all the right places.

  “You’ve watched me, the same as I’ve watched you,” he said in a low, husky voice. “But I’m done waiting to see what you’ll do, to see if you’ll come to me.”

  My heart was thundering so loud and hard I wondered if he could hear it. “This is kind of…intense, right?” I didn’t know if I was asking him, myself, or hadn’t meant to say this out loud at all. Either way, the glint in his eyes told me he expected this reaction, or maybe he was pleased by it.

  “It is. I am,” was all he said. I knew that the things I’d thought about Deacon, about his virility, his masculinity, the fact that he was a real man, had in no way prepared me for the reality of it. He bordered on caveman. I could see it, feel it in the way he looked at me, spoke to me.