by Marie Force
Lucy’s entire body tingled with interest as he slid into bed next to her. She propped herself up on a bent arm so she could look down at him. “Kind of early for bed, isn’t it?”
He played with one of her curls. “This isn’t the city that never sleeps. This is the mountain that goes to work—and bed—early.”
“What do you do for fun on the rare nights when you have to entertain yourself up here?”
“I’m sensing a bit of sarcasm in that question.”
“Just a bit?”
Smiling, he said, “I read a lot, books and sugaring periodicals and other nature stuff. I love to draw.” He reached for the bedside table and picked up a book that he handed to her.
“What’s this?”
“My living history of the most recent sugar season.”
Lucy opened the book and was instantly captivated by his drawings as well as the vivid words he used to describe the season. She wasn’t sure what interested her more—the images or the words that went with them. “This is so cool. You’re incredibly talented.”
“It’s just a hobby. I also play with the dogs and fix stuff around here. There’s always something to do. I don’t get distracted when there’s a lot to do, so this life works really well for me.”
She put down the book but intended to study it in far more detail when she got a chance. “Don’t you feel cut off from your family and friends when you’re up here with no way to communicate with them?”
“Not really. I see a lot of my family. They come up. I go down. We keep in touch. People come up to the store, so I hear the latest news from town.”
“And of course there’s your harem. How does that work? Do you have a scheduler in town who assigns nights to each of the women?”
“Stop it!” he said with a laugh. “There aren’t that many of them.”
“Still . . . How do they know who is on duty on any given night?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never asked them.”
“I bet there’s an elaborate system that you have no knowledge of. Maybe Sunday is A Day, thus Angie.”
He curled his hand around her neck and tugged her close enough to kiss. “Jealous Lucy is sexy Lucy.”
“I’m not jealous of Angie or the rest of your harem, and I’m certainly not threatened by them.”
“Particularly since you dispatched them by telling Angie I lopped off my package with an axe.”
“I never said those words. If she jumped to that conclusion, that’s on her. Not me.”
He rose up and had her pinned under him before she knew what hit her. “You are an evil minx, and you knew exactly what you were doing when you told her that.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t,” he said as he kissed her.
“Who’s the Monday girl? Mona? Monica? Mary?”
“Shut up, Lucy,” he said laughing as he kissed her again.
“Tuesday is Tawny or Tish or Trashy Tina?”
“You know, there are other things you can do with your mouth besides torment me.”
“Like what?”
“Seems to me that before you maligned my boy parts, you were thinking about getting to know them better.”
“I don’t remember that. Maybe you should refresh my memory.”
Rather than do that though, he captured her face in those big callused hands of his and looked down at her.
“What?” she asked, unnerved by the intensity she saw in his gaze.
“I’ve never had more fun with any woman than I do with you, Lucy Mulvaney.”
Far more moved by his words than she probably should’ve been, she said, “Really?”
“Really.”
“Not even Trashy Tina?”
He shook his head. “She can’t hold a candle to you.”
“She’s probably a lot better at the trashy stuff than I am. She’s certainly got more experience than I do.”
“Are you honestly comparing your skills in bed to that of a fictional woman who you totally made up five minutes ago?”
When he put it like that, she sounded like an insecure nitwit. “Maybe.”
“You don’t need to worry about comparing yourself to anyone else, Lucy. You’re one of a kind. Trust me on that.”
She ran her hands up and over his bulging biceps. “Did you mean it when you said you wanted us to be exclusive? No more Angie, Mona or Trashy Tina? And we haven’t even gotten to Wednesday yet . . .”
He kissed her. Hard.
When she moaned and opened her mouth to his tongue, he took full advantage of the opportunity to demonstrate the other things she could do with her mouth beside obsess about the other women in his life. He wrapped his arms around her and settled into the kiss as his muscular body pressed against hers.
Lucy curled her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips. She’d never been kissed the way Colton Abbott kissed her, as if kissing her was the only thing keeping him alive. He didn’t kiss so much as consume. She felt consumed by him, and it was the sweetest feeling she’d ever known.
As she lay surrounded by his strength and his appealing scent, none of the issues standing between them mattered. She didn’t care that he lived six hours from her or that his lifestyle was so different from hers they might be from opposing universes rather than the same country. She didn’t care that they’d blown all their plans to not get too serious. She didn’t care that she was setting herself up for major heartbreak when this whole thing blew up in her face.
No, all she cared about right now was how magical it felt to be held and kissed and loved by him. Yes, she felt loved, and treasured and strangely safe with him despite all the peril that surrounded this relationship.
He broke the kiss and turned his attention to her neck, licking and nibbling and setting her on fire. “Yes, Lucy,” he whispered as his whiskers rubbed against her sensitive skin. “I meant it when I said I want us to be exclusive. The thought of another guy touching you the way I do . . .” He cupped her breast and toyed with her nipple until it tightened. “I’d want to kill anyone who touched you like this.”
“So you understand how I felt when Angie came sniffing around earlier.”
“You don’t need to worry about her or anyone else.” He kissed a path to her throat and chest before tugging impatiently at her tank top until her nipple popped free. “I don’t want her. I don’t want anyone but you.”
CHAPTER 17
454: that was the tally of gallons at 3 a.m. when the fire in the arch died down for the night. Another 50 gallons’ worth of sap sits in the concentrate tank, so “The Gift Run” did truly yield 500 gallons.
—Colton Abbott’s sugaring journal, April 6
The swirl of his tongue on her nipple made Lucy gasp.
She fisted a handful of his hair and held on tight while he licked and sucked and bit down lightly but insistently.
His words and actions made for a powerful combination, and they served to wipe her mind clear of anything other than what was happening right now, right here. He gave her other breast the same treatment before kissing his way down the front of her. Sitting back on his knees, he pulled her yoga pants and panties down and tossed them over his shoulder.
He gazed at her core with barely concealed lust, his intentions apparent.
“Wait. Colton.”
Kissing the inside of her knee, he glanced at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. But I was wondering . . . Could I do what I started to do earlier, before we were interrupted?”
“I wouldn’t say no to that. Like ever.”
She loved that he made her laugh—frequently. “Turn over then.”
“I’m thinking about two birds and one stone.”
“What does that mean?”
“Come here and I’ll show you.”
There was something about the way he said the words that immediately set Lucy’s nerves on high alert. He turned over onto his back and reached for her, shocking her when he arranged
her on top of him so she was facing his feet, among other things. “Colton . . . What’re you doing?”
He eased her legs apart and showed her exactly what he had in mind.
“Oh my God.”
“Shh. You do your thing, and I’ll do mine.”
Never one to back down from a direct challenge, Lucy wrapped her hand around his cock and ran her tongue over the wide crown while he tortured her with his tongue and fingers. The whole thing was so wildly erotic and so wildly . . . Well, suffice to say she’d never done this before, and trying to focus on him while he was busy focusing on her was incredibly stimulating and distracting.
“Relax, honey,” he whispered against her inner thigh. “Don’t think about what we’re doing. Just enjoy it.”
Just enjoy it. That was becoming a theme between them, and he’d taught her a lot about relaxing and living in the moment rather than obsessing about what was waiting around the next corner. She bent her head again and closed her lips around him, sucking lightly and swirling her tongue through the groove at the top.
He drew in a sharp deep breath and pushed two fingers into her.
The combination of what he was doing to her and knowing she was getting to him was nearly enough to finish her off. She opened her mouth wider and took more of him while stroking with her hand at the same time.
“Ah, Christ, Lucy . . . Don’t stop.” He curled his fingers inside her and pressed his thumb to her clit.
Lucy moaned, her lips vibrating on his shaft.
His hips lifted off the bed. “So good,” he whispered. “Come for me, honey, and take me with you.”
At his command, the sensations ripped through her, wave after wave of bliss that she felt in every part of her body. His hand on her bottom held her in place while he came right after her. She swallowed frantically, taking everything he had to give her.
And then he relaxed under her, sagging into the bed for a second before he took control, lifting and turning her as if she weighed nothing. His amazing strength was, as always, an incredible turn-on.
When she was on top of him, looking down at him, he ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “Your lips are red and swollen.”
“Gee, I wonder why.”
“That was incredible.”
“Likewise.”
“Have you done that before?”
“No,” she said, resting her cheek on his chest. Eye contact was too embarrassing right then. “I’ve never done either of those things.”
“Either of what things?”
“Are you really going to make me say it?”
“You know I am.”
She sighed, resigned to her fate. “The position or the ending.”
“Ahhh, I see. And? What did you think?”
“Of which part?”
“Both.”
“It was very dirty. And very sexy.”
“I want to see your face when you say that.”
She burrowed deeper into his chest. “No!”
“Lucy . . . Don’t be shy with me. You have no need to be.”
“Right . . . I’m clearly way, way out of my league with you.”
“No, you’re not.” He ran his hands down her back to cup her bottom and gave a little tug, moving her up to better align their bodies. And then he sank into her in one deep thrust that made her burn and stretch as she accommodated his girth.
Her forehead dropped onto his chest, and his arms came around her.
“Ahh, Luce, you feel so good. So hot and so tight.”
“You have to talk about it, don’t you?”
“It feels too good not to talk about it, and wouldn’t you rather I talked to you about how good it feels rather than someone else?”
That got her attention. She raised her head and found his eyes dancing with mischief. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I wouldn’t dare, but you gotta let me talk it out with you.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.” He moved his hands from her back to her breasts. “Sit up, honey.”
Lucy flattened her hands on his chest and pushed up, gasping when he slid in deeper. Her head fell back as she absorbed the rippling pleasure.
He pinched her nipples between his fingers and added to the riot of sensation unfolding inside her. “Good?”
“Yeah. Really good.”
“Roll your hips. Hold on to me.”
She kept her hands on his chest as she began to move tentatively at first and then more eagerly when she found her rhythm.
“God, that’s amazing.”
Lucy opened her eyes and met his intense gaze. He was so beautiful and strong and sexy. Watching his muscles flex and move under her, his cheek pulse with tension and his lips part nearly undid her. How was it possible that this incredible man had chosen her over all the others who wanted him? How would she ever manage to keep his attention when he had so many choices? And how would she bear to leave him the day after tomorrow after this incredible weekend?
He surprised her when he sat up and wrapped his arms around her. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, stop it.”
And he was so incredibly tuned in to her. He had been from the very beginning, and that was the first thing she’d found attractive about him. No, honestly, it was the second thing. His rugged sexiness was definitely first.
“Stop it,” he said again, more softly this time as he kissed her. “It feels just as good for me as it does for you.”
Lucy wound her arms around his neck and held him close as she continued to move on top of him, guided by his hands on her bottom. She once again closed her eyes and gave in to the magic they created together. She turned over the control to him and let him take her away until her world was reduced to him and them and the place where they were joined.
He shifted their position so he was on top of her, pushing into her repeatedly until she could no longer contain the cry that erupted from her lips at the moment they reached the peak together, clinging to each other as they rode the wave of pleasure.
Colton came down on top of her but was careful not to crush her.
Lucy held on tight, running her fingers through hair that was now damp with perspiration. She licked a bead of sweat from his face and absorbed his shudders while aftershocks pulsed through them.
“You’ll understand when I say I have no choice but to keep you here with me forever, right?”
“And you’ll understand when I say that although that’s the loveliest offer I’ve ever received, it’s not possible.”
His deep sigh said it all. “I know.” He kissed her once more before he withdrew from her and shifted onto his back.
Lying next to him, her body cooling from the heat of passion, Lucy was certain of only one thing. The closer she got to him, the harder it became to picture a life without him in it.
Colton woke early the next morning and watched Lucy sleep for a long time before he decided to get some work done while she slept in. He’d greatly enjoyed the days off with her, but he adhered to such a strict schedule this time of year that he began to stress out if he took too much time off.
Once the woodpile was replenished for the following winter, he could relax. The autumn was usually the quietest of the four seasons on the mountain, and a time he looked forward to every year.
He stepped onto the front porch and nearly tripped over a small cooler that sat right outside the door. “What the heck?” Opening the lid, he found several containers of food and a note sitting on top of the pile.
Dear Colton, I was so sorry to hear about your terrible injury. I am praying for your speedy recovery, and I’m happy to come up and help take care of you. Just let me know. xoxoxo Brandy
“Oh for the love of Christ,” he muttered, thankful for the small favor of having woken before Lucy so she wouldn’t see Brandy’s care package.
With Sarah and Elmer dancing around his feet, he picked up the cooler and crossed the yard to the sugar-house, where he stashed the food in the icebox. He peeked insi
de the foil packet to discover a delicious-smelling lasagna that made his mouth water. He’d save that for dinner. Lucy didn’t need to know where it had come from.
There was also a container of salad, a loaf of Italian bread and a pan of brownies. He took a couple of them and had them for an early-morning snack. As soon as Lucy got up, he’d make them some eggs and sausage. The thought of it made his always-ready-to-eat stomach rumble.
After he fed the dogs, he settled into an easy routine with the axe, letting his mind wander as it always did during the routine, rote work of splitting wood. Naturally, he thought about the night he’d spent with Lucy, the erotic lovemaking that had left him depleted in every possible way as well as the sweet comfort of sleeping with her tucked in next to him.
He who never let any woman spend the night in his bed was now addicted to sleeping with one particular woman, and tomorrow he had to let her go again. That truly sucked. For the first time in his life, he had reason to be envious of his brother Will, who had found a way to make things work with Cameron. She seemed thrilled to be living with Will in Vermont. But Lucy had made it clear from the beginning that she wasn’t Cameron and she wasn’t going to move.
She had a close bond with her dad, sister and niece, not to mention a thriving business that needed her attention. When Cameron left, the business became solely Lucy’s responsibility, and he knew she took her obligations to her employees and clients seriously, which was something he admired about her.
He brought the axe down and the log splintered into two pieces. In need of a break, he used his T-shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow and took a long look around at his piece of paradise in the mountains. Would he give this up for her? He might actually be tempted. For the first time since he moved up here at seventeen, something—or someone—interested him more than the seasons that governed the sugaring cycles.
But to give up his entire way of life for a woman . . . Not just any woman, of course. The other issue that weighed on him was his lack of marketable skills. He knew how to do one thing and one thing only. He was damned good at that one thing, but running a maple sugaring facility in Vermont didn’t exactly translate well to other industries or other locations. His parents had wanted him to go to college, but he’d refused. He’d found his calling early, he told them, and couldn’t imagine ever doing anything else.