Long Gone Girl (3 page)

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Authors: Amy Rose Bennett

Tags: #romance historical, #romance military, #romance 1950s, #romance second chance love, #romance and erotic story

BOOK: Long Gone Girl
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Ginny snorted. “Yeah, right. This has been
my first day off in eight days of working nursing shifts at
Ridgewood County Hospital. I came here this weekend for some
R&R. And I won’t have you ruin my day at the beach by
pretending that you have even the remotest interest in me beyond
being a bit of sport. Well, you’ve got the wrong girl. You can just
take your towel and your aviator sunglasses and shove them—”

Jett kissed her. In one swift
movement—before she could even process his intention—he leaned
over, cupped her nape with one large hand then covered her mouth
with his, smothering her words. Ginny gasped. Outrage and unwanted
desire both surged, hot and potent as Jett’s firm lips slid with
practiced ease over hers; as without invitation, his tongue slid
between her parted lips and brazenly delved inside her mouth.
Devouring her. Effortlessly arousing her and lulling her into
submission.

Goddammit. How was he managing to seduce her
so easily?

Don’t give in. Don’t give in
. But it
was useless. With a moan borne of frustration and insidious,
reluctant need, she dropped her book and pushed her hands against
his rock-hard pectorals in an embarrassingly half-hearted attempt
to withdraw, but he simply slid his other hand around her shoulder
and pulled her closer. A wave of sensations engulfed her. The taste
of salt on Jett’s lips. The scent of him—faintly spicy cologne,
fresh sea air and delicious male enveloped her. Beguiled her.
Robbed her reason.

Ginny whimpered and gave into the urge to
kiss him back, to taste him with her own tongue. Her hands slid to
his shoulders, felt his muscles bunch and flex as he hauled her
closer still. Her aching breasts were now crushed against the wall
of his chest, the soft bare flesh of her belly in intimate contact
with his own naked torso.

Oh Lord, I’m so weak
. Beneath the
rush of her overwhelming lust, guilt tugged at her heart. She
shouldn’t be feeling this way, doing this—letting Jett push off her
hat, push her down onto the sand, plunder her mouth with reckless
abandon until she had melted into a puddle of helpless need. How
could she so easily forget about Charlie or the fact that Jett had
played her for a fool all those years ago?

Fool indeed.

Ginny ripped her mouth away, panting. Angry
at herself. Angry at him. “You’ve got a nerve, Jett Kelly.” Her
voice was mortifyingly husky rather than terse. “How dare you!”

Jett raised himself a little, hovering over
her, taking his weight on his forearms. His breathing was just as
ragged, his cheekbones flagged with high color. He stared down at
her, his blue eyes as turbulent as the waves crashing onto the
shore only a few yards away. “Oh I do dare. And if I’m not
mistaken, it seemed you weren’t exactly complaining a moment ago.”
He paused for breath and raised a hand to take off her sunglasses,
then gently brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. His gaze
locked with hers again. “I’ve been waiting to kiss you again for
nine years, Ginny,” he murmured, his tone softer, deeper. “I’m not
pretending now. And I wasn’t pretending back then. I want you.
After all this time, I just thought you should know.”

He wasn’t lying about this last statement.
Ginny could feel his impressive erection, thick and solid, pressing
against her belly. She might be seething with resentment but
perversely, her body was telling her just the opposite. It was
taking all of her willpower to resist the urge to wrap her legs
around Jett and cradle him with her hips. To invite him to take
more.

She must be clinically insane.

“Well, you’ll forgive me if I don’t quite
believe you,” she said with as much venom as she could, given that
she was still pinned beneath Jett’s rock-hard body. Even to her own
ears, she sounded just plain huffy. “Now will you please get off
me?” She pushed at his chest and at last he rolled off her and
allowed her to sit up.

But Jett wasn’t going to let her escape so
easily. He grasped her hand. “Ginny…I know that you’re a widow. I
know you already think badly of me. But I never would have kissed
you if you were married. Truly.”

“As if that makes any difference, Jett.” She
yanked her hand away, grabbed her book and stuffed it into her bag
again.

“I meant what I said before. About
wanting—”

“Please, give me a break.” She stood
abruptly and grabbed her towel.

“I want to explain…about that night.”

“You were a complete jerk. An asshole in
fact.” She flicked the towel, not caring if sand went into his
lying blue eyes.

Jett surged to his feet as well and took a
step toward her. “I know… You are absolutely one hundred percent
correct,” he said. There was a strange undercurrent of urgency to
his voice. “But if you would please just let me explain. One thing
I’ve learned since serving in Korea—and I know that you were there
too, Ginny—is that life is too short to let happiness pass you by.
Surely you feel that way too. If you ever felt anything for me at
all…”

He caught her hand between both of his.
“Ginny Williams, would you do me the honor of giving me a second
chance? Go on, spend the day with me. Let me make it up to you.” He
sought her gaze then placed one of his hands over his heart, as if
making an oath. “I promise to behave. You have my word as a United
States Air Force officer and a gentleman.”

The man was incorrigible. Ginny tried very
hard but didn’t quite succeed in suppressing a reluctant smile.

Jett’s mouth slowly curved into an answering
lop-sided grin. The kind of smile that made a girl’s heart flip
over or stop altogether. “Come on. You know you want to.”

Oh God
. Despite everything, she so
did. But could she trust him?

She supposed time would tell.

“All right,” she said, narrowing her eyes
pointedly. Skeptical. “But no more attempts at hanky-panky.”

Jett grinned again and saluted. “Yes
ma’am.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Or being a
wise-ass.”

“You got it.” Jett suddenly bent down and
retrieved his towel and both pairs of sunglasses. He handed her
pair over and she took them, careful not to let their fingers
brush. His gaze met hers again, his expression sincere. “Like I
said, Ginny, I’ll be a perfect gentleman… Which behooves me to add
that you really should check” —Jett gestured at her chest—
“your…er…swimsuit.”

Ginny glanced down then squealed with
horror—the top of her bikini had slipped dangerously low to the
point that her nipples had almost slipped out. Blushing furiously,
she wrenched up the cups, then wrapped her towel about her
shoulders, stiff with indignation. “You might have said something
sooner,” she said reprovingly.

Jett raised an eyebrow as his mouthed kicked
into a small yet wicked smile. “I said I’d be a gentleman, not a
saint.”

 

***

 

To Jett’s surprise and delight, Ginny tipped her head
back and laughed, a beautiful throaty, musical sound. “Well, one
thing’s for sure,” she said, humor suddenly dancing in her lovely,
hazel-brown eyes. “There’ll be no chance of me getting bored.”

She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and her
towel slipped just a little, giving Jett a tantalizing view of her
ample cleavage again. Conscious of the fact that he was skating on
thin ice, he kept his gaze glued to Ginny’s beautiful face. “I aim
to please.”

Ginny’s mouth tipped into a wry smile. “So,
Fly-boy. What do you suggest we do for the rest of the day?”

Jett grinned back. Although Ginny was still
drop-dead gorgeous, one thing had changed about her. Gone was the
reserved girl of high school who’d been too timid to ever speak to
him. He decided he liked this new, feisty, confident woman who
wasn’t shy about wearing a two-piece swimsuit and was giving him a
run for his money to-boot. Her take-no-nonsense attitude only
heightened the thrill of the chase.

But he would stick to his promise and
behave.
For now.
“Well, it’s getting onto noon. And that
swim has made me all kinds of famished, so how about we grab a bite
to eat?” he suggested, hoping the idea would appeal on the basis it
was both low-key and innocent sounding enough. “Why don’t I meet
you at the orange-aide stand in Jenkinson’s Pavilion in say, half
an hour?”

Ginny brushed a strand of hair away from her
sweet-as-ripe-peach lips, clearly still bruised from his kisses,
and he nearly groaned aloud. “Agreed,” she said with a genuine
smile.

She started to make her way toward the
boardwalk and Jett soon fell into step beside her, but not before
he’d taken in a quick but delightful eye-full of her long shapely
legs and delicious derriere as she moved away. He’d never seen so
much of her and he definitely liked what he saw. More than liked.
If he looked too long, he knew his cock would be standing to
attention again. Which was not a good look in the middle of the
day, in public.
Play it cool, Kelly, you are
not
a horny
adolescent anymore.

For whatever reason, he was undeniably
attracted to this woman. And always had been.

Back in school he’d always suspected that
she had a body to die for beneath the conservatively long skirts,
high-necked blouses and cardigans she’d habitually dressed in. Even
on Prom night she’d worn some ridiculous pink confection with way
too much lace and chiffon covering up all her luscious lines and
curves. If he could just harness his inexplicably out-of-control
libido for the day, maybe she’d also agree to go on a date with him
tonight so he could explore the attraction further. Perhaps the
hotel room he’d impulsively booked on his arrival would come in
handy after all.

But he was getting ahead of himself. Ginny
had to forgive him first.

They reached the wooden boardwalk and Jett
jumped up first, then offered Ginny his hand to help pull her up.
She hesitated for just a moment, glancing up at his face.
Uncertain. But she must have been satisfied with his well-practiced
expression of affable charm as she put her hand in his.

“Thanks,” she said with a shy smile, then
she gracefully vaulted up beside him. For an insane moment, Jett
contemplated hauling her into his arms again but stopped himself in
the nick of time. He was even reluctant to let go of her hand but
he did, not wanting to push his luck any further and have her tear
strips off him for breaking his word so soon.

Instead he continued with his relaxed
façade. And that wasn’t easy given that his gut was suddenly
churning with unexpected nerves and excitement. “Do you have a
locker at the Pavilion’s swimming pool?” he managed to ask
casually. He hadn’t forgotten that she had a whole weekend of
R&R planned as well. However he wasn’t fool enough to ask her
outright where she was staying.

She shook her head. “No.” She glanced toward
the northern end of the boardwalk. “I’m staying at a boarding house
up that way. It’s not far.” She slipped on her sunglasses then took
a step away. “So I guess I’ll see you in a bit.”

“You bet.” Jett slid his own sunglasses back
on and cad that he was, he checked out her ass and legs again as
she walked away. His cock twitched again.

Kelly, you’ve got it bad
. With a
resigned sigh, he turned away and headed in the opposite direction
toward his own hotel, The Beacon, his mind abuzz. He had half an
hour to formulate his fool-proof campaign.
Operation
Ginny.

He just hoped to God he didn’t blow it.

“Jett? I knew I’d find you here
eventually.”

Shit.

Jett knew who it was before he even turned
around.
What the hell was Dana Whitney doing here?

Four

“Dana.” Tamping down the
urge to groan with frustration, Jett turned to face Dana Whitney,
one of New York’s up and coming high society darlings. Pretty,
wealthy and well-connected she might be, but after a handful of
dates and a pouty rebuttal this morning, he was rapidly realizing
they were not suited. At all. Especially after his encounter with
Ginny.

He was going to have to set Miss Whitney
straight—that they were no longer ‘an item’, if they ever were at
all.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” he
continued, keeping his tone cool and even. Disinterested. “Not
after you unceremoniously turned me down this morning.” In fact,
she’d told him that she’d rather stick her head in an oven than go
to the beach with him.

Dana tossed her perfectly styled raven locks
and teetered closer to him on ridiculously high, patent leather
pumps. He noticed she had to walk with her weight forward on the
balls of her feet so her spiky heels didn’t catch in the spaces
between the wooden boards of the boardwalk. In her bright yellow
sundress, with a fully made-up face complete with garish red
lipstick, she looked as out of place as a buttercup at the beach.
Given the way she was presently dressed, he strongly suspected that
vanity played a part in her rejection earlier today.

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