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

by Mara Jacobs

Guessing what he was retrieving, she said, “It’s okay. I’m on the pill.”

  “You are?” he asked, trying to hide his surprise. “I mean… I didn’t… I guess I just…”

  “It’s okay. I’ve been on it since October to try to regulate my periods. They were all over the place.”

  “Oh.”

  “Not that you get to comment on why I may or may not be on birth control.”

  It was the only time she’d seen anything resembling embarrassment on Sawyer Beck’s face. “Of course not. I didn’t mean—”

  She let him off the hook. “I know. I was just playing with you.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “So, you want to play, do you?” He lowered himself to the bed and crawled up it so that he was looming over her on all fours. “You sure about that? I play to win.”

  She drifted her hand over those gorgeous abs and wrapped her fingers around him, taking up the stroking motion. “I’m sure,” she said, giving a squeeze.

  “Jesus,” he hissed. He dropped his head and kissed her hard, devouring her mouth with his. Then he lifted his head and said, “Remind me never to challenge a woman who has her hand wrapped around my dick.”

  “Good life lesson,” she teased, and stroked up and around the tip.

  “So, you’re on the pill. What about the other? I’m clean, but if you want me to wear a rubber—”

  “I’m clean, too. And no, I don’t want you to wear one. I want to feel every inch of you.” As if to demonstrate her point, she stroked the length of him again. Her other hand slid over his back to his butt.

  “Well, then,” he whispered, and lowered himself to the cradle her legs created. He kissed her again, tenderly this time. He started at her mouth, then moved to her jaw and then her neck. His mouth next to her ear, he whispered, “Put me inside you.”

  She guided him to her, gently easing him into her opening. She ran her hand up his side and wrapped it around his neck as he drove into her.

  A soft gasp escaped her and she tensed for just a second, getting used to him. He felt so right inside her, stretching her. Everything about being with Sawyer felt right to her.

  “Okay?” he whispered as he kissed down her neck.

  She moved her hips, eliciting a gasp from him, and answered, “Yes. Very okay.”

  He slowly started to move. He raised himself up on his hands and looked down at her body. “God, you’re perfect.”

  She’d put on ten pounds this winter, thanks to the SAD-induced carb cravings and lack of desire to exercise. Happily, a small portion of that ten went to her boobs, making her a bit fuller on top than she’d been before.

  Pretty much the only benefit to the disorder.

  They were just as sensitive as always, though, which she quickly found out as Sawyer paid them an extreme amount of attention with his hands. And mouth. And tongue. And his hands again.

  Her breathing, not quite back to normal from her standing-buck-naked-in-front-of-a-glass-wall orgasm, ratcheted up again, causing a true heaving bosom.

  Which only garnered it more attention as he sucked on one breast and then the other, pushing them together and gently biting on her nipples.

  She squirmed beneath him, her tension building. Moving her hands from around his neck, down to his butt, she grabbed on, trying to pull him deeper, urging him to go faster.

  “You need it now?” he said, his voice rough and lower than normal. Looking into her eyes, his mouth poised above her breast, he added, “Harder?”

  She nodded.

  “Faster?”

  She nodded again.

  “Say it.”

  She placed her feet on the mattress with legs spread wide and canted her hips. Digging her fingernails—the hot pink fingernails he apparently liked—into his ass, she said, “Fuck me, Sawyer. Hard and fast.” She clenched her muscles around his cock.

  “Sweet Jesus, you feel so good,” he said on a moan as he arched up and started moving faster. Deeper strokes and then a couple of short, hard pumps. Just enough to keep her off balance and unable to meet him halfway.

  She thrashed her head from side to side, frustrated.

  “Can’t get there?” he asked in a teasing voice as he once again slowed down his pace after three hard pumps.

  “Sawyer…God, just…”

  “Get yourself off. Do it, Deni. Let me see you.”

  She moved her hand and found her clit. Still so achy from Sawyer’s mouth, it only took a few circles with her finger to make her explode.

  “Yes, that’s it. Christ, you’re squeezing me like a vise.”

  His words in her ear kept the convulsions going as her body shattered. Just when she started to come down, he rose to his knees and held her hips in his hands. He splayed his thighs, draping one of hers over each of his and put his hands under her ass, holding her in place as he began to wildly drive into her.

  She didn’t come down. No, she spiraled even higher.

  “That’s it,” he urged. “Come again, Deni. Come while I spill inside you.”

  His words, in that gruff voice, made the spiral shatter again and she gripped the sheets beneath her, Sawyer’s body out of reach.

  “Ride it out, baby,” he said, pumping even deeper than she thought possible. “God, yes. Fuck.” He groaned on the last thrust, and she felt the heat of him inside her, his moisture joining hers.

  After one last piston of his hips, he collapsed on her, catching himself at the last minute with his hands, which he buried in her hair.

  “Holy wah,” he whispered in her ear.

  She smiled, though he couldn’t see her. Sliding her legs back down to the mattress and twining her legs with his, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed his neck.

  Eventually he moved off her—and out of her—and lay beside her.

  “That was amazing,” he said, his hand moving up and down her body.

  “You got that right,” she answered, not even having the strength to turn on her side to cuddle into him.

  “You know what I would love to do right now?” he asked.

  Visions of kinky sex games floated through her mind. Some appealing, some not so much. “What?” she hesitantly answered.

  He chuckled. “What are you imagining?”

  “That’s just it. I can’t imagine.”

  “Well, relax. I was just thinking how much I’d love to take a nap, to hold you in my arms while I slept the afternoon away.”

  “Oh, well, that sounds lovely.”

  “You sound disappointed. Did you want to go snowshoeing or something? A trek through the woods?”

  Both of those options would have sounded great six months ago, but they felt too daunting to her now. “No, thanks. The nap sounds lovely, really. I’m just surprised by the way you said it. Like it seemed so ‘something new’ to you. Don’t most men fall asleep after sex anyway? Especially sex that…”

  “Fucking good?”

  “Strenuous.”

  He placed a kiss on her nipple and then moved up to kiss her neck and then cheek. He gently put a hand on her face, turning her head to look at him. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at her.

  “I have trouble sleeping sometimes.”

  She’d only known him for ten days, but at times like this she felt she’d known him forever. He was prevaricating for sure. “Sawyer…” she said in her best scold.

  “Okay. Not sometimes. All the time. I have a lot of trouble sleeping. So, yeah, to say I’d love to take a nap right now? And to actually be able to do it? Pretty ‘something new’ for me.”

  She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, which was sticking up at all angles. Probably from her grabbing handfuls of it when he had his mouth on her.

  “Come here,” she said softly, and urged him down so that his head rested on her chest. She pulled the comforter around them and then put her arms around him.

  “Sleep, Sawyer,” she said.

  And he did.

  Chapter Nineteen
r />   Therefore O students study mathematics and do not build without foundations.

  ~ Leonardo da Vinci

  He woke first, shocked to find that he’d slept almost three hours. A near-record for him of late, especially because it was in the middle of the day with the sun right overhead. He’d designed the glass roof in the right direction and with just enough pitch so that the strong winds coming off the lake would blow most of the snow off. He made sure to get up here at least twice a month to shovel the roof in case there was a buildup. Roof cave-ins happened all the time in the Copper Country. One from a glass roof would be particularly nasty.

  He got up, threw a couple more logs on the fire, and then fed Lucy, praising her for being so mellow during the wrestling match going on in the same room. After gobbling down her dinner, Lucy whined to go out and Sawyer opened the door for her. “Don’t go too far,” he told her, and Lucy nodded her head as if giving him a beleaguered “yes, Dad.”

  Deni was stirring by now, and he climbed back into bed with her. As she rolled over toward him, the sheet caught, baring her upper body. She started to reach for the sheet to cover herself, but he put his hand on hers, stopping her. She opened her eyes then, and a small, almost shy smile crept up her face.

  “Did you sleep at all?” she asked.

  He pulled the sheet back even farther, studying her as he nodded. “I just woke up. I slept like a log.”

  “That’s good,” she said, and stretched, giving him an eyeful. He noticed stubble burn all over her creamy skin—particularly on her thighs and tits. He could just imagine it burned elsewhere on her, too.

  “I could say I’m sorry and that I’ll shave next time before I have my mouth all over your body…but I kind of like that my mark is on you.”

  The flush rose over her as he leaned down and tongued one of the places that he’d paid particular attention to earlier in the day.

  “So…no shower, right?”

  “Uh-uh. That’s okay, I kind of like the smell of sex on you,” he said. He reached out and cupped a breast, brushing his thumb over her nipple.

  “Mmm. That feels good,” she said, sighing. “And I like the smell of you on me, too. But I’d really love a shower right now.”

  “Sorry, no shower. Sauna, though.”

  “That’d be nice. But you can’t jump in the lake this time of year.”

  “The hardcores roll in the snow in wintertime to cool off instead of jumping in the lake.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep.”

  “Have you ever tried it?”

  He tore himself away from her delectable body and swung his legs to the floor. He swatted Deni on the butt, threw his flannel shirt at her, and said, “Nope, but it seems to be a day for firsts. Let’s give it a try.”

  She watched from the house—cottage? camp? ice cube?—as Sawyer made another trek on snowshoes to the sauna house to feed the fire, Lucy prancing behind him. Deni still wore just the shirt that he’d thrown at her over two hours ago. It hung down her thighs with the sleeves rolled up. While waiting for the sauna to heat, in between his trips of fire feeding, he’d fed her a lunch of cheese, meats, and crackers and had opened a bottle of wine, which was nearly gone.

  When he disappeared into the sauna house and she could no longer admire his broad back and long legs, even clad in a parka and denim as they were, she moved and once again turned her attention to the marvel that was his secret hiding place.

  In the winter, with the snow on all three sides, all it needed was some icicles hanging from the ceiling and it really would be the Fortress of Solitude.

  She admired his creativity. In the corner next to the stone wall, he’d built a glass alcove that was one panel wide and two high, which opened like a refrigerator, creating a cooler of sorts. She didn’t know what served that purpose in the summertime, but for now, she put the leftover cheese and meat back in their packaging and placed them in the “icebox.” She’d seen a couple of coolers on a shelf back in the pole barn. She supposed that’s what he used in the summertime when he stayed up here for any length of time.

  In the pole barn, she’d also seen an ATV. The path they’d taken up here had been wide enough for a pickup, but the terrain was too treacherous for Sawyer’s truck, even in the summer. She wondered if the harness that he’d made for Lucy to ride on the snowmobile was the same one he used on the ATV. She’d be interested to see. Knowing Sawyer, he’d have made sure it was multi-purpose.

  She tried not to get ahead of herself and wonder if he’d bring her here in the summer or if they’d even be together by then. No way did she want to get on an obsessive loop about that. He said he wanted to try for something real, something more than just hooking up. They had a ton in common. She was already three quarters of the way in love with him (the engineer in her calculating down to fractions even in this), and he seemed to feel strongly enough about her to come out of his hibernation.

  She started to feel her focus fracturing, her mind going fuzzy. She turned to face the lake again and breathed deeply, forcing her brain to slow down. Just focus on a point on the horizon and stick to that. Let thoughts of a future with—or without—Sawyer float away as if they were on a boat headed for Canada.

  Memories of looking for Canada on that long-ago day on top of Brockway with her father came flooding over her, filling her with both happiness and grief.

  She placed her hands against the wall and leaned forward, letting the emotions flood over her, careful to keep them in check and not get sucked in too deeply. No way did she want the lead blanket covering her on this weekend getaway.

  She heard Sawyer come in, but stayed where she was, trying to regain her focus.

  “Sauna’s ready. We—” She started to turn, but he quickly and forcefully said, “No. Don’t move. Stay just like that.”

  Afraid there was something wrong—were there snakes in the wintertime?—she stayed still. She heard him take off his coat and boots. “Sawyer? Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

  “Shhh,” he softly said. He was right behind her now. Killing the snake or whatever it was? “You just looked so…Christ, so hot…standing like that.”

  Oh, was that all? No snake? She started to drop her arms, but he put a hand on her backside, which was slightly tilted out.

  “No. Keep your arms up there. Brace yourself. I can’t not take you like this. You look amazing. All long legs, with your hair streaming down the back of my shirt.”

  The timbre of his voice, and more importantly the words he said had, her leaving her arms where they were. Not only that, but she leaned over a little farther and spread her legs wider.

  “Yes,” he hissed. She heard his zipper and the rustle of denim, then cool air as he lifted his shirt from where it fell over her bottom and the back of her thighs.

  “Such a sweet ass,” he said as he caressed her.

  She was damp immediately and arched her back to give him better access. His rough hands took hold of her hips, tilting her even more. One of his hands left her hip, but she soon felt it probing her folds, sliding along her clit.

  “So wet already. You want it like this too, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said, and braced her arms. Her head fell forward, but she could still see the gorgeous view of the lake.

  He was inside her quickly and powerfully. She had a moment’s thought that it was a good thing these clear brackets were designed by Sawyer Beck. Otherwise, they’d likely be going through the glass panels the way he pounded into her, one of his arms around her waist to steady her, another in the middle of her back, his flannel shirt pushed up with his hand.

  It was fast and desperate and they both came quickly. Breathing heavily, locked together, his head dropped to her back. She could feel his hot breath against her neck, making her clench with an aftershock.

  “Holy shit. You’re going to be the death of me,” he said into her ear. “I’m not some guy in his twenties, you know. I’m an old fart of forty.”

  S
he snorted. “Yeah, you’re practically decrepit. About time to get you a walker or wheelchair or something.” She tightened around him again.

  He nipped her neck and then pulled out of her, spinning her around. His mouth was on hers before the gasp left her. She sought out his tongue and sucked on it, which made him back her into the wall, pinning her to it with her body.

  “One difference. If I were twenty, I’d already be hard again and back inside you.”

  She laughed. Twice already today and it was barely five o’clock. “I think you’re doing just fine, old man.” She stepped away from him and across the room, toward her discarded clothes.

  “Did you say the sauna’s ready? Suddenly I’m feeling very dirty.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Instead of seeing depression as a dysfunction, it is a functioning phenomenon. It stops you cold, sets you down, makes you damn miserable.

  ~ James Hillman

  He loved seeing her in his shirt and nothing else. So he just wrapped her in a blanket and carried her out to the sauna so she wouldn’t have to put everything back on just to take it off again once they entered the small building.

  “Um…I need to…you know,” she said. Once they were in the changing room part of the sauna house, he took off his boots, slid them on her feet, and got her into his snowshoes. She made her way around the small building and reappeared a bit later.

  “Get me into the sauna,” she said, her thighs already turning pink.

  “Hop in. I need to water a tree myself.”

  When he had taken care of business and removed his clothes, he threw more wood into the small sauna stove and then entered the tiny room.

  Deni was a naked vision sitting on the top bench, her legs stretched out across the cedar planks.

  “Well, if I wasn’t sweating already, the sight of you would do it.”

  She laughed and threw water from the buckets of melted snow onto the rocks, creating a screaming hiss of steam, which rose and swirled around them. She made to move her legs as he stepped upon the bottom bench, but he held them, lifted them as he sat and then laid them across his lap. He ran his hands up and down the length of them, then settled them on her feet.