Worth The Effort (The Worth Series Book 4: A Copper Country Romance) (19 page)

She broke away from him as he urged her arms up and the sweater off.

“Too many damn clothes,” he growled.

“It’s Michigan in the winter,” she explained as she started unbuttoning his flannel shirt. “What do you expect?”
 

“I expect…” He started to work on her jeans as she finally got his shirt unbuttoned and peeled it off of him, leaving him in a green thermal shirt. The green of his shirt made his green eyes pop even more as they bore into hers. “I expect,” he continued, reaching once again for her fly, “to have you naked in about ten seconds.”
 

“Sounds good to me,” she said, brushing her hand against his erection before snapping open the button.

“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

S
he 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. Everything 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.