Long Gone Girl (9 page)

But why question or worse, bury these
feelings any longer, because when all was said and done, wasn’t
this what she truly wanted? To be held by Jett? Kissed by him?
Swept away? Yes, yes and yes again. Her wanting for this man pulsed
insistently deep inside her, a force as strong as the raging sea or
the tempest of wind and rain whipping about them. She was powerless
to resist. She had to be with him, this man that some fundamental
part of her had always wanted. Even if it was for one night
only.

Jett dragged his mouth away. “We can’t stay
out here.” His voice was a deep, warm rasp in her ear. “We’ll
drown.”

He was right. Ginny gripped one of his
hands. “Come with me.”

The Driftwood Boarding House was only five
houses down. She tugged Jett along the boardwalk then down the
flooded front path until they were safely beneath the wooden
porch.

Pushing a tangle of sopping wet hair out of
her eyes—her ponytail had completely collapsed—she stood on tip-toe
and peered through the paneled window at the top of the door. The
hall light was on but otherwise the passageway leading to the
stairs and her room was deserted.

“What are you doing?” Jett murmured in her
ear, his hands sliding around her waist. His erection hadn’t
diminished despite the run through the freezing rain.

Ginny shivered, but not because she was
cold. “Checking to see if the coast is clear. Mrs. Fingle, the
proprietress, doesn’t let men stay here.”

Jett’s deep chuckle, warmed her ear. “We
could always go back to The Beacon.”

“In this?” Ginny gestured at the rainstorm
still raging behind them. “You have got to be kidding.” She could
fetch her car but she sure as hell wasn’t going to traipse through
the lobby of the upmarket Beacon Hotel looking like something the
cat had dragged in from a flooded gutter.

Jett shrugged, then ran his wicked tongue
around the curve of her ear before gently pulling on her ear-lobe
with his teeth. A bolt of sizzling heat shot all the way to her
lower belly—her pussy. Dear Lord, he was making her think dirty
thoughts already.

“It’s pretty dark here,” he murmured. “We
could always make-out—”

“Shhh, duck out of the way. Mrs. Fingle’s
seen me. She’s coming.”

Jett slid to the side, and stood flush
against the weatherboard wall, biting his cheek as if to stop
himself laughing. Ginny shot him a warning look just as the front
door opened.

“Mrs. Williams,” exclaimed the decidedly
stout and matronly Mrs. Fingle. “Look at you, you poor dear. Fancy
getting caught out in this weather. Come in, come in at once.”

“Ah, if you don’t mind, and if it’s not too
much trouble, would you mind fetching me another towel or two?”
Ginny gestured at herself. “As you can see I’m absolutely soaked
through and I wouldn’t want to ruin your hall runner and the carpet
upstairs.”

Mrs. Fingle raised her plump hands to her
ample, pinafore covered chest. “Oh bless you,” she exclaimed. “Of
course. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” She waddled off down the hall
towards the back of the house and disappeared from view.

Ginny beckoned to Jett. “Quick, upstairs.
Third room on the right. I’ll be up in a second.”

“With towels.” Jett grinned. “Clever ruse.
I’m glad I won’t have to shimmy up the porch post and climb through
your window. It’s been a while since I’ve had to do something like
that.” He gave her a swift kiss on the cheek then squeezed past her
before bolting up the stairs.

Ginny grimaced at the trail of water he left
behind, but it couldn’t be helped. She stepped into the hall and
closed the door against the storm. At least the lighting in here
was dim. Hopefully the kindly Mrs. Fingle wouldn’t notice the wet,
man-sized boot prints along the worn Turkish runner.

“Here we go, dear.” Mrs. Fingle reappeared
with several fluffy white towels.

Ginny took them from her with a bright
smile. “Thanks so much. I’ll turn in now—”

“Can I bring you up some tea or coffee? Some
home-made chocolate chip cookies and warm milk perhaps? You look
half-frozen.”

Ginny shook her head, eager to let Jett into
her room. The door was locked and she wasn’t sure who else was
staying here. The last thing she needed—and Jett for that
matter—was for some other female boarder to come across him in the
upstairs hall. “No, I’ll be fine. Truly. Thank you, Mrs. Fingle.
Good night.” She slogged over to the stairs and started to
climb.

Mrs. Fingle called after her. “Are you sure
I can’t turn the radiator on for you? Or run you a nice, hot bath?
It’s no trouble. You’re the only one here tonight.”

Ginny released a sigh of relief then smiled
down over the bannister at her well-meaning landlady. Well that was
good news. She and Jett wouldn’t be disturbed
.
“You are too
kind. But I’m sure I’ll manage. A good book and a lie down and I’ll
be right as rain.”

Mrs. Fingle laughed. “Oh you are a hoot,
Mrs. Williams. But please, do call if you need anything. Anything
at all. My room is right down the other end of the hall. But I
won’t be turning in for an hour or so.”

“Sure thing,” called Ginny from the top of
the stairs. When she glanced down the hall to Jett, she could see
he was lounging against the doorjamb by her room, arms folded
across his chest, smirking. Ginny’s breath caught as her gaze
wandered over him. His wet, white T-shirt clung to every wonderful
ridge and curve of muscle across his upper arms and chest. The
soaked denim of his jeans was molded to his long, muscular thighs.
And there was still a decided bulge around his groin. Good Lord,
the man was as randy as a teenager. Except his confident gaze
seemed to grow hotter and heavier with each step she took towards
him. Clearly, Jett was no boy. The throb in her loins started
anew.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind a nice, hot bath with
warm milk and cookies,” he murmured when she reached her door.

Ginny thrust the towels at him then
retrieved her room key from her purse. “Shall I send Mrs. Fingle up
then?” she whispered back with saccharine sweetness. “Perhaps she
could scrub your back too.”

Jet cocked an eyebrow. “I would have thought
you were the expert on scrubbing, Nurse Williams.”

Ginny pushed the door open and deposited her
purse on a chair by the door. “You’ll get nothing from me at all
except a good tongue-lashing shortly, Captain Kelly.” Stepping into
the room, she immediately noticed Mrs. Fingle’s handiwork. The
bedside lamp was on and the patchwork quilt was turned down on the
single bed revealing pristine white sheets and several fat pillows.
She bit her lip as vivid, altogether erotic images of what she and
Jett were about to do between those sheets filled her mind.

Jett followed her in and shut the door. His
eyes danced with mischief and a wicked smile tugged at the corner
of his mouth. “A tongue-lashing sounds like fun.” He dropped the
towels on the bed and caught her against his chest. “How about one
right now?”

Although her body thrilled for Jett’s kisses
and touch, she found her throat was suddenly tight with nerves, her
lips dry, as long-held insecurities surfaced within her. The spell
cast by the storm had dissipated and Jett suddenly seemed too big
for this tiny room, too masculine…too much for her. Charlie had
been an attractive man in his own way, but not like Jett.
What
the hell am I doing?

She flattened her palms against his chest in
a weak attempt to keep him at bay for a few moments longer whilst
she regrouped. Made herself feel less like a drowned rat. Someone
worthy of such focused sexual attention. She swallowed and dredged
up her voice. “Perhaps we should get warm and dry first.” Although
she suspected that there was one part of her that was wet and would
stay that way as long as Jett was here. Her cheeks burned at the
thought. “Let me turn on the radiator.”

Jett released her and after kicking off her
soaked loafers, she turned away to fiddle with the knobs on the old
cast-iron heater beneath the chintz-curtained window.

Pull yourself together, Ginny
. She
wasn’t ashamed to admit to herself that she liked sex. After a year
and a half of abstinence, she now recognized that she
needed
sex. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to be a nun for the next few
years until she again found that special someone she might consider
marrying one day. So in the meantime, why shouldn’t she have sex
with a man, whom she knew…and wanted, badly? Even though Jett had
hinted he cared about her, she was still convinced that he was a
no-strings-attached kind of guy. What could be more perfect than a
night of passion with someone like him?

Her sodden hair had fallen over her shoulder
and water dripped onto her hand as she adjusted the thermostat. She
needed a towel. Straightening, she turned and reached for one off
the end of the bed, and then froze. Jett was standing but a few
feet away from her by the bedside table, barefoot and shirtless,
his hands at the waist of his jeans. He started loosening his belt
buckle.

Dear God, she decided she’d never seen
anything finer than this man, right at this moment. His
overwhelming male presence filled the room. Sleek, wet muscles
gleamed in the muted lamp light. Beads of moisture clung to his
black hair and stubble darkened jaw. She wanted to run her tongue
along all his hard lines and ridges and planes, tasting the
raindrops on his skin.

She was suddenly breathless, hot all over.
Grasping the brass bed frame for support, she ran her other shaking
hand through the tangled mess of her hair. The only sound in the
room besides the lashing rain against the casement window and the
weak spluttering of the radiator was her own rapid, shallow
breathing.

Perhaps sensing that she watched him, Jett
raised his deep blue gaze to hers. And then he smiled, slow and
sexy. “Let me help you out of your wet things.”

Ginny snatched up a towel
from the bed and her gaze dropped away from his as she started
scrubbing at her rain darkened hair. “Um, I think I can manage,
Jett.”

Damn.
She was nervously biting her
lip again. The wanton girl he’d kissed in the rain was gone and the
shy version he’d known from high school was back. Jett frowned a
little and took a few steps toward her until he was standing right
in front of her. He didn’t want her to feel that way. He wanted
this to be special, for both of them.

He prayed she wasn’t having second thoughts
about going to bed with him. But then, they hadn’t really discussed
what the game plan was before they’d got here.

He stilled her busy hands and caught her
troubled gaze. “Ginny, I’d assumed that coming to your room meant
we’d—”

“Have sex?” Ginny blushed. “Yes. Yes, that
was the intention.”

“But if you don’t want to—”

“No…I mean yes.” Ginny sighed then pushed a
tendril of wet hair behind her ear with trembling fingers. “I do
want to…I’m just nervous I guess.” She smiled a little. “You know
little ol’ stick-in-the-mud Virginia O’Hara getting it on with the
hotter than hot Jefferson Kelly. I never thought that you and I…”
She blushed again, a bright red flush staining her cheeks.

Jett loved it when she blushed. Always had.
But he didn’t want her to feel this ongoing awkwardness around him.
He had to dispel it. Break down her barriers. Bring back the fiery
siren that he knew lurked beneath. “Hey. You’re not that girl any
more. Just like I’m not the same guy.”

He gave her a lop-sided smile as he eased
the towel away from her chest, then dropped it over the bedpost.
“So you still think I’m hot?” The thought that she was physically
attracted to him made him harder, just like the sight of her damp,
pale blue blouse clinging to her voluptuous breasts and erect
nipples made him hard. If he didn’t get out of these jeans soon, he
was going to explode.

Ginny’s tongue darted out to swipe along her
full lower lip. “You know I do.”

Damn, now
that
was hot.
Jett’s
cock jerked. “I guess there’s a couple of other things that haven’t
changed though.” He couldn’t hide the husky edge to his voice. “I
still want you. Bad.”

Her gaze dropped to his crotch and her mouth
curved into a small, sultry smile. “I can see.” When she lifted her
gaze to his again, her hazel eyes were a warm honey-brown. “And
what else hasn’t changed?” she asked—her tone was also husky.

Jett held her gaze as he cupped her face
between his hands. “You are still the most beautiful woman I have
ever seen.”

***

Ginny’s heart somersaulted in her chest. She believed
him. Despite the fact she was wet and bedraggled, the expression in
Jett’s eyes was a potent combination of both focused sexual intent
and undisguised adoration. All of her inhibitions at last fled.
There was no doubt in her mind that he wanted her.