Worth The Effort (The Worth Series Book 4: A Copper Country Romance)

by Mara Jacobs

  “Really?” he said with almost a hiss when she touched him. “You okay with not a lot of foreplay? ’Cause I’m dying to be inside you. Deep inside you.”

  The moisture between her legs intensified. “I think we’ve had a week of foreplay.” She unzipped his fly. “I want you deep inside me, too. Bad.”

  He had her jeans unzipped and was pushing them down over her hips when he stopped.

  “Are you wearing long johns?” he said, amusement in his voice. He stepped back, away from her. Her hand, which was just inches from his hard cock, fell away.

  “You told me to,” she said, maybe a bit too defensively. And it was a good thing she had, too, or she’d have been freezing on that snowmobile.

  “I know, I know,” he said as he moved back to her and quickly pulled her jeans down, helping her balance as she stepped out of them. “And I’m oh so glad that you did.”

  She moved to touch him again, but he stepped back out of her reach.

  “My God,” he said as he looked at her. “That may be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  She looked down at herself. Red rag-wool socks, white long johns with pink roses, and a matching thermal shirt, also with roses.

  “I did wear sexy underwear,” she said, and reached to peel off her shirt. He held out his hand in a “stop” motion.

  “No, don’t you dare. I’m serious! You look so damn sexy right now.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, taking another step away—away!—from her. His feet hit the wooden platform of the bed and he sank down onto it. The low height of the bed had his knees almost at eye level. He swung his elbows over them, his hands dangling between his legs.

  “Lose the ponytail holder,” he said. His voice was huskier than it had been a minute ago, and Deni felt her flush leave her face and move south to all her other parts. Her very achy other parts.

  She reached behind her for her ponytail holder. Yeah, she didn’t need to use two hands and probably didn’t need to arch her back—pushing her boobs out—to do it, but she did it anyway.

  And the glint of his green eyes told her he liked it.

  “Shake your hair out,” he whispered. She did, once again using both hands and way more body swaying than was necessary.

  The glint in his eyes was now matched by the grin on his face. “Back up a step. Put yourself right against the glass.”

  She expected it to be freezing against her butt and back, but it wasn’t too bad. In fact, it felt refreshing on her quickly overheating body. She dropped her head back, but kept her eyes on Sawyer.

  “Damn, but that’s hot. Turn—wait. Slide your socks off.”

  She did, using each foot to pull the other sock off, still leaning against the glass wall.

  “I’ve been wondering since the day I met you if…” She kicked the socks aside. He leaned forward, elbows still on his knees. “Yes, they match.”

  “What matches?”

  “The hot pink fingernails. I wondered if your toes were done in the same color.”

  “Seriously? You wondered that?”

  “Yep. And I’m not even a foot-fetish guy.”

  “But you’re apparently a thermal-long-johns-fetish guy?”

  “Apparently. Who knew?”

  She placed her hands behind her, palms down against the glass, and ran them up and down the cool surface. The pink of her nails was shockingly bright in the sun.

  She said a silent thank you to Alison for making her step out of her comfort zone.

  “You look damn good anytime. But right here, dressed like that, with Lake Superior as your backdrop? Unbelievable.”

  She ached to touch him, to have him touch her. To taste and be tasted. She started to move toward the bed, and his knees straightened, legs dropping, opening wide for her. And then his head jerked, and he put a hand up for her to stop again.

  “Wait. Did you say you had sexy underwear on underneath that?”

  “Well, yeah. I knew what was going to happen tonight—evidently today.” She took the step back she’d just taken forward, placing her back once again against the wall. “I am a logical, sensible engineer and when you say ‘dress warmly, like long johns warmly,’ I’m going to dress long johns warmly.”

  “I love a woman who can take direction,” he said with a grin.

  “But,” she continued, “besides being that practical engineer, I’m also a woman. A woman who wants…”

  “To look sexy for her man?” he finished.

  “Are you? Are you my man?” They both knew what she was asking. Was this to be a lovely “snack”? A fulfilling, passion-filled weekend that was a fitting conclusion to a week-long attraction.

  Or was it the beginning?

  “Take your shirt off,” he said, the earlier humor gone from his voice. His tone made her nipples ache.

  She reached for the hem of her thermal shirt but paused just as the skin above her long johns was bared.

  “The shirt is going to come off either way. This is going to happen,” she said. “But answer my question.” She didn’t have to add “be honest.” It was a given with Sawyer. She’d learned that even in the ten days she’d known him.

  His eyes left her hand on her shirt, came to her face, her mouth, then held her eyes.

  “I don’t know how much of me is left. Ten days ago I would have said nothing was there…a void. That I couldn’t be what you wanted, that a weekend, or two, would be the extent of it.”

  “And now? Ten days later?”

  “I’m still not sure how much I have to give. And you need to know that up front. But, damn Deni, you make me want to try. You make me want to come out of my hermit cave and make love in the sunlight.”

  Her breath hitched, caught in her throat. Which was just as well, since she had no response to what he’d just said. She wanted to run the four paces to the bed and fling herself on top of him, but she stayed where she was.

  “So, yes,” he continued, “I am your man.”

  “Good,” she whispered.

  He nodded his agreement. “Now take off the fucking shirt.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The human foot is a masterpiece of engineering and a work of art.

  ~ Leonardo da Vinci

  She smiled, that little dimple appearing on her left cheek.

  “Take off yours,” she said.

  He loved the little flares of attitude that popped up from her. Not enough to be high-maintenance or irrational. But just enough to keep him on his toes…and make his already throbbing hard-on ache that much more.

  His flannel shirt already on the floor beside Deni (next to those hot pink toes!), he reached behind him to the collar of his thermal Henley and yanked it over his head, throwing it to the side. It landed on top of his other flannel shirt with a soft noise, causing Lucy to look up from where she lay beneath his desk.

  “Go to sleep, girl,” he said. She eyed him warily and then looked at Deni before dropping her head to her paws. He would have put her outside, but it was too cold for her to be out there for as long as he intended to be naked with Deni.

  He might emotionally scar his dog, but there was no way in hell he was going to stop now.

  “Your turn,” he said to Deni, nodding with his chin toward her top. Well, to her chest area specifically, which he was dying to see. Other than that brief moment in his truck when she was down to her camisole, this shirt was the clingiest thing he’d seen her in. He suspected that her loose sweaters were hiding a semi-spectacular rack.

  She lifted the shirt and the pale expanse of her waist was slowly exposed. Then red—red!—satin bra cups, a milky-white chest, and that long, elegant neck. She tossed the shirt on the ever-growing pile of clothes on the floor beside her.

  Nothing semi about it. “Spectacular.”

  A flush crept up her neck, but she didn’t look away from him, didn’t drop her head in embarrassment. Good thing, too, because there was no light to turn off, no blinds to close. Everythi
ng they were about to do was going to be in the cold light of day.

  And he intended to do everything.

  “Slide your long johns down just so they rest on your hips.”

  She furrowed her brows, confused at his request. Well, of course she didn’t know how smoking hot she looked with the white cotton slung low on her hips and her red panties still mostly hidden.

  What the hell were those kind of panties called? Boy shorts? Something like that? God, they made her look all woman—nothing boy about them.

  “Unhook your bra but don’t take it off.” She reached behind her, making her tits rise, and unhooked the bra.

  “Drop your arms.” She did. The bra straps stayed on her shoulders, the cups in place, but there was something about seeing the back flapping loosely, like at any minute the whole thing could just slide off her body.

  He’d been picturing Deni naked or in some sort of undress every night of the past week when he’d come home after a long day of working next to her.

  Been jerking off to that vision most nights. Okay, every night.

  So it seemed entirely natural when he slid his hand down his belly to his jeans. She’d already undone his button, so he eased the zipper down over his erection and then stroked his hand up his briefs, never taking his eyes from her.

  Her breathing grew deeper and her tits lifted a little higher, nipples straining against the red satin.

  “You like that?” he asked as he stroked himself again.

  She nodded, and—good God—licked her lips, then bit the lower one. That mouth. That full, juicy, so kissable, made-for-sucking-cock mouth.

  He stroked himself a little harder, but not faster. Just as he was about to tell her to get her adorable ass over to the bed, she rubbed her thighs together, trying to give herself some relief.

  He levered himself to the edge of the low bed. Hell, it was easier to crawl over to her than to get up and walk. And something seemed very right about crawling on his hands and knees to the woman who had quite possibly pulled him from a ten-year semi-madness. There was almost as much gratitude in what he felt for her as desire.

  Her hips twitched, and her thighs rubbed against each other again as he neared her.

  Nope. Definitely more desire than gratitude.

  He knelt before her and looked up. She reached down, putting her hands in his hair. The bra gave way with the movement, sliding down her arms. She took her hands from him for just long enough to free the bra and let it fall to the floor, where it landed on one of her feet. He brushed it away, the red sliding to reveal those pink toenails. He placed his hand on the arch of her foot, hoping she wasn’t too cold. He could hear the fire crackle behind him, as the room warmed up fast, but the place had still been absolutely freezing when he’d dropped off Lucy and started the fire.

  But no, her feet weren’t cold, and her hips rolled once again at his touch. He placed his other hand on her bare foot and took hold of the knit material at her ankles. He skimmed his hands up to her knees and then back down, pulling the material with him, slowly revealing the red panties and then the white of her thighs.

  His hands skimmed up again, grabbing her long johns as he lowered them. He could smell her arousal and he became that much harder. Thank God he’d unzipped.

  Her long johns finally pooled at her ankles, he lifted first one leg and then the other and slid the underwear off. She held on to his shoulders for balance and kept her hands on him, stroking and massaging his tight neck.

  “God, that feels good,” he murmured against her belly, tenderly kissing the warm skin. He straightened, while still kneeling. Her tits were just a little too high for his mouth, but his hand skimmed up the back of her legs and squeezed that great ass—causing a cute little half-moan, half-squeak from her. He moved to her waist and then around to hold those high, firm breasts.

  Definitely all moan from her this time. Her head fell back, her shoulders and ass leaning into the glass, pushing her hips even closer to him—right where he wanted her.

  “God, I can smell how turned on you are. How wet you must be.”

  “I…it…” She seemed embarrassed now, for the first time. She started to take her hands from him.

  His heart leapt. No way did he want to embarrass her. “Shhh, no, it’s okay,” he said softly, kissing her right above the waistband of her panties. “I love it. It makes me even harder catching your scent. Seeing your wetness…right here.” He rubbed a finger along her cleft, her moisture showing through the thin fabric.

  “Sawyer…” she gasped, “I’m so…”

  “Ready” was the word she was looking for. He knew it firsthand.

  “I know, baby. It’s not going be long and languid this first time. It’s been building since that night at the Commodore.”

  “Yes,” she said. She dropped her head even farther against the wall, arching her neck and pushing the breast he currently held deeper into his hand.

  He rolled her nipple between his thumb and finger and then pinched it lightly, eliciting a throaty moan from Deni.

  He wanted to give her beautiful breasts the attention they deserved, to suckle them and fondle and lift and squeeze, but they were slightly out of reach of his mouth. No doubt she’d bend down if he told her to, but when faced—literally—with her sweet arousal at mouth level…

  He trailed his hand down from her breast—much to her dissatisfaction, if her soft grunt was any indication. “It’s okay. You’re going to like this better, and I need two hands.” She stroked her hands down his back as far as they’d reach and then up again, squeezing his shoulders.

  Sexy as they were, the panties had to go. He nuzzled her right above the waistband as his hands peeled the red fabric over her toned thighs and down her long, shapely legs. He lifted her foot again to take the panties off, but this time he widened her stance when placing the foot back on the hardwood. Running his hands up the backs of her legs, he circled around and his thumbs slid through her damp curls to open her even damper folds.

  Deni’s sex was a place to study and revere, to lose yourself in experiencing its wonder. Pink and soft, with a hood to hide its buried treasure and a passage to hidden pleasure—an engineering feat to surpass all others.

  “Jesus,” he sighed as he put his mouth on her. She jerked, and her hands left his shoulders, one grabbing his nape, the other lodging in his hair. She tasted so good. Musky and sweet at the same time.

  But it was her noises that made him even more excited and touched him in a place he’d long thought dead. Soft sighs and then a small grunt as he put a finger inside her. And then a full-blown gasp as he circled the finger before adding another.

  “Sawyer,” she said on a moan. “That feels so good.”

  He wanted to answer her, but he wanted his tongue on her clit even more. Unveiling the hidden nub with his thumb and middle finger he swirled a finger around, joining his tongue, while his other hand started a slow movement deep inside her.

  “Oh, God. Yes, that’s…”

  One last wiggle against her bud and she let go, her muscles clenching against his fingers, her hips bucking, tits jiggling. A sight to behold.

  Dear God, he was glad he saw her come for him for the first time in the glorious, blaring daylight. She was beautiful and he felt his heart thaw even more.

  He sucked on her longer, trying to make it last as his fingers worked her. Finally, she slumped forward, sliding her hands down his back. Rising from his knees, he put a shoulder under her and lifted, getting to his feet with her draped over his shoulder, that sweet ass within biting distance of his mouth.

  A soft nip had her lifting her head, as if coming back from the dead. Before she could object that she was being carried like a sack of potatoes, he laid her down on the bed and then joined her, settling himself on top of her.

  Her legs immediately fell open, making room for him as he propped himself up on his forearms so he could see her face, see her pretty brown eyes as she finally opened them and looked at him.
/>   Chapter Eighteen

  Happiness is not a brilliant climax to years of grim struggle and anxiety. It is a long succession of little decisions simply to be happy in the moment.

  ~ J. Donald Walters

  Those green eyes staring intently down at her were almost enough to make her come again. God, how could one man be so sexy? She raised a hand to run her fingers across the stubble on his cheek.

  “Hey,” he whispered.

  “Hey,” she answered. Looking at him, and seeing how he watched her, the numbness of the past few months felt miles away. Though she was surrounded by ice and snow, she felt warmer than she had in a long time. She curled her fingers around the back of his neck and gently tugged his face down to hers to kiss him.

  She could taste herself on him, and though just a moment ago she’d thought herself completely sated, she rolled her hips underneath his, wanting more.

  “I know.” He answered her unspoken request. “I need to be there, too.”

  He sat up, kneeling between her spread legs, and then stepped back off the bed, standing up. He peeled his jeans and briefs down and off. The sunlight was directly above them now and it seemed as if it were directing a big solar spotlight right down on all his naked glory.

  There was that sexy chest, built from what she now knew was a ton of wood chopping and various other projects around this place. Hair was sprinkled across his chest in just the right amounts. Just enough to make her tingle when it touched her. It thinned out to a trail that led down his abs to his large erection, which he now took in hand and stroked a few times.

  How hot was that?

  His thighs were muscled too, but there seemed to be a leanness to him as well.

  If not able to accurately describe his physique in her lust-muddled thoughts, she was certainly able to appreciate it.

  “Holy wah,” she whispered, the phrase finally rolling off her tongue with Yooper ease.

  He grinned at her and then bent over and pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans.