Carpenter: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 16)
Table of Contents
Copyright
A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series
Carpenter
Christian
Avery
Epilogue
Extended Epilogue
Italian Stallion
CARPENTER
AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE
_______________________
A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 16
FLORA FERRARI
CONTENTS
Copyright
A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series
Carpenter
1. Christian
2. Avery
3. Christian
4. Christian
5. Christian
6. Christian
7. Christian
8. Avery
9. Avery
10. Christian
11. Avery
12. Avery
13. Avery
Epilogue
Extended Epilogue
Italian Stallion
COPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2017 by Flora Ferrari.
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.
A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS
Book 1: Baby Lust
Book 2: Veteran
Book 3: Built
Book 4: Bambino
Book 5: Rescued
Book 6: Leader
Book 7: Professor
Book 8: Burned
Book 9: Worldly
Book 10: Pistol
Book 11: Policed
Book 12: Driven
Book 13: Lucky 13
Book 14: Lumberjacked
Book 15: Protector
Book 16: Carpenter
Book 17: Italian Stallion
Book 18: Gardener
CARPENTER
I’m Christian “Chiseled” Carpenter, and I’ve got the hardest tool in the shed.
I custom design and build beds by day and women fabricate ways to get in mine by night. Fancy hotels and ritzy resorts pay top dollar for what these hands can do. Ladies get a different kind of handiwork…strong, callused, hands with the skill and grip to handle a woman like she’s never been handled before. One tantalizing touch, masculine massage, and come-hither finger curl in just the right spot have them begging for a deep drilling…
Until her
She’s professional, smart, and has a strength I’ve never experienced before…the steel to tell me no. But I’ve got brass balls, even when I find out I’m her dad’s best friend.
I measure her up, but she cuts me off. She’s bored by my attempts to get her under my thumb. I can’t concentrate, and now I’m getting glue all over my wood when I should be sawing logs.
She wants me to build her a sectional for her swanky spa, but I’m so for building a lot more. When it comes to being the perfect woman, she hits the nail on the head. She’s one-of-a-kind, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to make her mine.
*Carpenter is an insta-everything standalone romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
Get your FREE extended epilogue of Carpenter by signing up to my mailing list. You’ll receive an email as soon as it’s available.
*If you already signed up, THANK YOU! You will get this and all future freebies automatically.
Click the link below to get your freebies
http://tinyletter.com/floraferrari
CHAPTER 1
Christian
P ink and purple hues fill the sky. Interspersed clouds race over the tops of the silhouetted palm trees. The valet, all of about nineteen, rushes to greet me. I toss him the key to my Porsche 964.
“Beautiful car, sir.”
“Thank you.”
“We see a lot of incredible cars here, but rarely something vintage in such amazing shape.”
“They don’t make ‘em like they used to.”
“They sure don’t.”
He climbs in and reaches for the handle.
“Johnny,” I say, remembering his name from his nametag.
“Yes, sir.”
“No more than twice around the block, okay?”
A smile creeps over his face…he knows the game. “Yes, sir.”
“The gearbox is stiff, so don’t force it.”
“No, sir,” he says.
I enter the resort. I’m pissed. Traffic in the canyon was packed, and there were car chases on the 5 and the 405. When I finally arrived in L.A., the douchebag trust fund kids just wanted to haggle over price. When they asked if I could replace the authentic Balinese teak with something cheaper, which I knew would just fall apart in a year if not less, I just stood up and walked out. No one would notice in their “exclusive” nightclub since it was dark, they said. Garbage in, garbage out. Not how I do things in regards to craftsmanship or the kind of people I allow into my life.
I check in and make my way to my room. They’ve done a nice job, but it’s too modern and predictable. Sitting in a sterile box is the last thing I need, so I slip into my swim trunks and a T-shirt.
My phone vibrates and I see an incoming message from my assistant, Jill.
Well past five. Don’t you have somewhere else to be?
Committed to your success, Christian.
If there is one thing I can count on day in and day out it’s that woman. Mother of five, grandmother of twelve. The woman is truly perfect.
Fresh start tomorrow. Please go be with your family now.
Yes, sir.
I may not have a family of my own, but that just makes me realize how important family is.
I look over the client requests for tomorrow’s meeting. Damn, this girl’s got taste. She’s provided some mock-ups and even some simulations of just what she’s looking for. I’ve never seen this much effort put into an RFP for single piece of furniture.
But this is no ordinary girl. Word has it that she’s an up-and-coming hotelier and doesn’t take shit from anybody. Her way or the highway. We’ll see about that tomorrow. Right now I just need to blow off some steam, and the pool is just what the doctor ordered.
I dive in and start my laps. The feel of the water against my skin lower’s my blood pressure immediately. The pool is empty so I can go all out. I’m counting off the seconds in my head as I cover the length and then execute a turn and head back. It’s my first lap and I’m already on my best pace ever. Who said aggression and anger were all bad?
I go at it for a full twenty minutes and slide out of the water. My heart’s pumping hard, but I’m not done yet. I need to sweat out more of that brown L.A. haze.
There’s got to be sauna around her somewhere, I say to myself, as I hunt the rooms just off the pool. Janitor’s Closet…Storage Room…Towels. I’m not having any luck, and decide to head back to my suite. And then my luck changes. I see a door labeled Steam Room. I walk over, take a big breath of air and blow it out just before I pull the wooden slat serving as a handle.
I walk inside and it’s like I stepped inside a thick cloud. I feel the moisture immediately. It’s in air, on my skin, and quickly in my lungs. The perfect detox to a toxic day.
I sit down on the wooden slats, and let my head fall back against the wall.
Two minutes later and my trunks are riding up into a big mess. I’ve yet to see a single person in the place other than the receptionists, so I decide to go for it.
I stand up and slide out of my trunks.
CHAPTER 2
Avery
I ’ve got a month to get my place up and running, and I’m way behind. I’m fully booked for Coachella and I don’t have much more than the foundation laid. It’s my first attempt at running my own business, and I’m not going to fail.
I lay in the steam room, pondering ideas of how to pull this off. I’ve got some hotshot guy from Laguna Beach coming up tomorrow. He charges a pretty penny, but I’ve seen his work. He’s worth every cent.
I told him I just needed a sectional, but I may have to increase my order tomorrow with the way the other contractors are dragging their feet.
I’m flat on my stomach and I’ve got the side of my face on the back of my hands. The heat is intense, and mixed with the steam I can barely focus. It’s masochistic, but I find my head is clearest right after a good sweat, no matter how I go about getting it.
I hear the door open, and my muscles tense. I have the reservation for this half hour! I open my mouth to ward off the intruder, but as soon as I see him my mouth opens even wider…as in jaw on the floor wider. If tall, dark, and handsome were a drink I’d already be drunk.
It’s super steamy inside, but I’ve been here over twenty minutes already and my eyes have had time to adjust…to everything but him.
His body is as hard as the wooden slats I’m laying on and the same shade of light brown. He has that same kind of tan that people who use the four seasons as verbs have. My direct line of vision is thigh high, but my eyes are wandering. His chest is smooth, accentuating his perfectly sculpted pectoral muscles, which sit atop his twelve-pack abs. His arms have a light coat of hair, and are strong like tree trunks. He looks like the manual labor type, the kind of guy who works with his hands. His fingers are thick and long, not the kind you get pecking away at a keyboard all day.
And his face. If GQ and Men’s Health had a baby it would be him. He has that look which makes him worldly enough to leave the third button of his shirt unbuttoned…not that he’s wearing one now. As a matter of fact, those trunks that he has on aren’t doing much to conceal the bulge.
I sneak another look at his face, and realize it’s way too late for that five o’clock shadow that arrived right on time.
He stands and his hands take a hold of his waistband.
Oh no he’s not!
Oh yes he is!
His trunks slide down the outside of his legs and he steps out of them.
Five feet in front of me is the most perfect, most defined, cutest and sexiest at the same time, derrière I have ever seen…online or off.
How many squats does it take to get one of those? And how does a girl get that one, for herself?
I’ve been so tied up with this new spa, that I’ve totally neglected my sexual needs…not that I’ve ever really tended to them. But when you put General Good-looking five feet from my face, of course my lady bits are going to salute.
I feel my nipples harden against the towel I’m laying on, and a tightening in my pussy. It’s looking for something to grab a hold of and it’s more than excited about the options currently available.
But he’s not an option, because I’m holding out for Mr. Right and he doesn’t even know I’m here!
He balls his shorts up in his hand and flips them to the side.
Oh no! Please don’t! The wet, squishy sounding fabric lands right on my ass!
“That didn’t sound right,” he says.
He turns to look in my direction. I look at his eyes and watch them narrow as he tries to bring my side of the steam room into focus. People say I’m focused beyond my years, but right now I have full ADD…because just as soon as I’m lost in those baby blues of his, my own eyes wander further south.
Three words immediately come to mind. D. Lish. Us.
I’ve seen elephants on NatGeo that were less endowed. And not only does he have the length, but he’s got the gorgeous girth to match.
“Enjoying the show?” he asks.
A panic hits me and my mind freezes.
“All quiet over there in the corner. Not about to say anything.”
Another of those pretentious L.A. types. “I’m the one with the reservation,” I say. “It’s you who should be apologizing.”
“That argument went out the window when you didn’t say anything when I came in.”
“Don’t put this on me. This is a private spa, and for all I know you probably aren’t even staying here.” The jolt of anger from telling this guy off feels good and now that I’ve started I don’t want to stop. “And it’s you that’s enjoying the show!”
He reaches forward and I feel my skin tingle. Oh my god, he’s not going to is he?
His hand carefully grabs the fabric from his trunks. He’s careful not to touch any part of my actual skin. I see his eyes wander towards my back side and I use the moment to take another mental snapshot of his cock, which seems to be even bigger, and fuller, than before…and it’s not exactly as relaxed as it was a few seconds earlier. As a matter of fact, if his cock were a compass needle the point in between my two eyes would be due north. Jesus, he’s getting hard right in front of me!
“As you seem to have noticed,” he says. “I am enjoying the show.” His eyes, which had wandered back to mine, are now slowly taking in my entire body like a long, slow drag of whiskey after a taxing day. His gravelly voice, slow manner of speech, and relaxed eloquence…even without his clothes on…tell me he’s certainly the kind of guy who would do such a thing. But right now it’s clear that all he’s thinking about doing is me. And all I’m thinking about is letting him.
CHAPTER 3
Christian
A naughty little girl like you needs to be spanked for what you did.”
She slowly shakes her head no, but by about the third pass her head’s not going sideways anymore. She’s shaking her head yes.
I cock my arm back and cup my hand. Her jaw slides back, as her front teeth cover her lower lip.
“Such a naughty, naughty girl,” I say staring down at her ass.
She’s got a big juicy booty that’s calling me like the Sirens called Homer. But unlike the ships they tried to crash along their rocky coasts, it was my hand that was going to crash down hard on her ass. And her body was smooth as silk and soft in all the right places. No rocky coasts here, only a rock hard cock that couldn’t take this anymore.
She shakes her head again and my cupped hand meets her perfectly round globes. I watch as her ass shakes underneath me.
“Aaaah,” comes from her lips and there is no question she wants this just as much as I do.
“You liked that, didn’t you?”
She shakes her head yes.
“Tell me you like it.”
“I…I liked it.”
“Tell me you want more.”
“I want more,” she says, and my hand obliges faster and firmer than the first time. Her ass ripples again and it takes everything I have not to mount her right there and do her from behind like the animal that I am.
“Tell me you want more.”
“I want more.”
I cock my hand back and bring it down to her ass stopping just short. Her entire body tightens in anticipation just at the thought of me slapping her bootyliciousness.
She turns to look at me, and I see shock on her face. My hand completes the slap and her body obliges again. I’m playing games with her and she’s loving it.
I move in closer and slap her again, this time leaving my hand on her globes, kneading her big beautiful butt that
would put any Kardashian to shame. L.A.’s obsessed with those girls, but I want the real thing. Not some phony booty in Spanx.
I’m working her ass with one hand and with my other I reach down and take her hand in mine, bringing it to my cock. She takes it, but her grip is strange, and it occurs to me she might not know what she’s doing.
I remove my hand from the top of her little mitt, and she slides her fingers and palm loosely along my shaft.
“You’re not going to break it,” I say, and she tightens her grip.