Forever, Jack (21 page)

I grabbed a fistful of hair at the nape of his neck, and as his lips moved over mine, sucked desperately at his bottom lip, grazing it with my teeth. My entire body was tuned to the kiss, focused on tasting him, the sweet mint on his tongue and the salt from his sweat, and every nip and pull of his mouth reached and pulled sensation from the very depths of my body.

“God,” Jack rasped against my mouth, pausing between thorough kisses. One of his hands left my face and wrapped around my middle drawing me up and against him. Hard. “When you said slow … how slow?” His fingers dug into me, pressing me closer. The hand at my face moved down my throat, tilting my head back, making room for his hot mouth as it left mine and slid to my chin then my ear, causing goose bumps to break out over my already sensitized skin.

I said slow?
A giddy laughed bubbled up my throat, and I swallowed unsure how to answer.

“You have to guide me here, Keri Ann, or I … shit,” he said suddenly and lifted me off the ground. Swiveling around, he headed for the lattice gate leading out to the pool area.

I squealed. “What the hell, Jack?”

“Kick your shoes off.”

“What? Why?” I asked winded from how tight he was holding me as he ducked out the gate into the bright sunshine. I glanced at the pool over my shoulder. “No! No way!”

“Nope, not the pool, it’s heated,” he said and hefted me up suddenly over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.

Gasping, I opened my eyes against his lower back. “Jack! What are you doing?” I yelled and slapped his ass.

He laughed, a deep rumble, and pulled my sneakers off, dropping them as he headed up and over the dune path, his bare feet sliding into the sand as I beat pointlessly at his back.

“Wait, Jack! I thought I said nothing public,” I tried desperately, my voice breathy. His shoulder was digging into my belly. And Mrs. Weaton’s breakfast wasn’t feeling too settled. “Oh, God, I feel sick.”

“Almost there, and no one’s on the beach for about,” he swung both ways not breaking a stride as he headed to the water line so I could look, “a few hundred yards each way.”

His feet splashed into the waves, slowing against the resistance of the water then he pitched us both in with a splash.

I spasmed with the frigid cold as we both went under, and I scrambled to get my feet under me, coming up with a gasp. “What the hell, Jack? What was that for?” I coughed and spat out seawater.

“I needed a cold shower, and fast,” he said, flicking the water from his hair with a swift head snap, and leaving it perfectly styled.
Guys.
“Damn, it
is
cold! Sorry,” he said, reaching for me and pulling me against his still warm body.

“Idiot. Of course it’s freaking cold, it’s barely spring,” I muttered, my teeth chattering. “Ugh! I hope it’s
this
cold,” I said, holding my finger and thumb about a half inch apart in front of his face.

He convulsed with laughter, his mouth wide, his dimples deep, eyes squeezed closed with mirth. Seawater dripped from the tips of his dark hair.

Damn, it was beautiful when the boy smiled
. The song lyric wove through my head. My chest suddenly expanded with emotion. The swoon effect was still in full force seven months later. I hiccupped a laugh that bubbled out in spite of myself. It was so contagious to see his happiness.

“Not with you around, Keri Ann.” He winked at me and pressed me against him for proof.

I swallowed with nerves, even as a rush of heat seared a path straight through me, warming my iced down body from the inside. I gritted my teeth against the sensation, lest I pant like a dog or something equally embarrassing. My body quaked.

“C’mon,” Jack said. “You’re freezing. You’re beautiful, but your lips are blue and I can feel you shivering.” He pulled away, and taking my hand, headed to the shore.

We started trawling through the waist deep water toward the sand. My body felt heavy with the weight of my wet pants and t-shirt, and the breeze chilled me further. As we moved, an idea formed in my mind. I had to get him back for dunking me
after all
.

Just as we got to his calf depth in the water, I waited for the perfect timing of his step and flung out my right leg, hauling his arm to spin his body. His reflexes kicked in, and he grabbed me as he turned and lost his balance, pulling me with him as we both went down, me squealing, into the shallow water.

Jack let out a harsh grunt as his back hit the sand without much water breaking his fall. I landed on top of him, pounding the air out of both of us.

“Christ,” he croaked, and closing his eyes, let his head fall back. “What was that?”

“Sorry. Me trying to get you back for dunking me?” I offered, sheepishly, my damp hair falling to the side of our faces like a curtain.

He opened his eyes and looked into mine. A small wave washed up our bodies then ebbed away, pulling the sand around us.

“Can I make it up to you?” I asked and lowered my mouth to his, kissing him deeply.

He responded, winding a hand up into my wet hair and holding me against his mouth. Gentle waves lapped at us every few seconds or so before a big one suddenly rolled up over my back. My arm was under Jack’s neck and I jerked him up suddenly to get us out of the water.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

I laughed. “About every seventh wave is the largest. Luckily, the tide is going out, otherwise we’d be choking right now.”

He blinked up at me then pitched over, rolling me onto my back in the surf, settling his weight between my legs and on my chest. Cold water forgotten, my heart tripped and heat spread through me.

“You know a lot about waves, huh?”

I nodded, instantly thinking of my wave sculpture. “I’ve totally dorked out on research. We’re lying in about four inches of water right now, which means that the next wave that makes it this far before breaking will probably be eight inches higher than that. I’m thinking you’ll be fine, but you’ve left
me
kinda vulnerable.”

Another small wave lapped up our bodies and carved the earth beneath us, and I wrapped my arms around his bare back.

“Eight inches, huh? I could go so many different ways with this topic.” Jack laughed teasingly, his green eyes bright against the flush on his cheekbones. “So, my beautiful ocean dork, how many waves til the big one now?”

“You’re a little distracting. I have no idea,” I answered honestly with a smile at his mischievous expression.

On cue, a larger wave rolled up causing me to lift my face closer to him. It also rocked Jack’s body along mine.
Whoa
. I flicked my eyes down to his mouth. The way the rest of me was feeling, I needed to complete the connection. “And I may be a dork, but I’m
your
dork,” I whispered.
Please kiss me.

Jack’s lids lowered fractionally and he dropped his forehead to mine. “God, you have no idea how much I like hearing that.”

“What? That I’m a dork?”

“No, that you’re mine.”

The sand beneath my back ebbed and undulated with the washing tide, but it was tiny distraction compared to Jack hovering above me, his body pressed against mine.

He was hard, smooth, and firm. Too hard. Intimately hard.

The earth at my back was fluid and rough. I was fully clothed, but the situation was making me feel completely bare and exposed. I turned my head and made out figures and a dog barking in the distance.

Jack followed my look. “We’re fine,” he said and bumped his nose softly against mine. “I think I’m pretty good at spotting if we’re being watched by now.” A cloud passed over his face as he said that.

“What?” I asked.

“Come on,” Jack whispered. “It looks really great on postcards, but this making out in the surf thing is bloody freezing.”

He climbed off me, and I grabbed his offered hand as he pulled me to my feet.

Without his body heat, the normally mild spring ocean breeze sliced through my wet clothes and straight through me. I shuddered.

He tugged my hand and we jogged back toward the house. Trying to move with cold, wet clothes and rough sea sand in every crevice was not a good mix.

“There’s an outdoor shower under the house, and it has hot water,” Jack promised as we made it over the dunes to the privacy of Devon’s house.

“I hope you have something I can borrow. I’ll have to get home to change before work tonight.”

“Yeah.”

We went past the pool and I grabbed my sneakers Jack had dropped. We re-entered the dim area under the house, and Jack led me to a small area hidden by more lattice.

Leaving me in the private enclosure, Jack took my dry shoes from me. “Will you get the water sorted? I’ll be right back with towels.”

After I got it just right, I stepped fully clothed into the welcoming scalding hot spray and tipped my head back to let the water wash over me. Wow, how did I let my life change so drastically in just a few hours? I was involved with Jack again. Fully. All the way involved.

I hadn’t even talked to Jazz about the journal pages, and we consulted about
everything.
And Joey? God, I had no idea how Joey would react. Everyone’s head would be spinning. Mine was.

Hearing a noise behind me, I turned as Jack let the enclosure gate slam closed behind him and placed a bottle of shampoo on the small shelf inside the fence. “Dry towels and change of clothes just outside,” he announced and stepped closer, still only in his black shorts, placing his hands on my waist.

The water was hitting my back. He turned us and ducked his head under, letting the hot water wash the salt from his skin. Then he stepped out so we were both barely under the spray.

I leaned up to kiss him. I couldn’t help it. I kissed him softly, nipping at his lips, and then drew back.

He grinned.

It was so weird to think I could probably do that anytime I wanted now. Some moments I would look at him and just see
my
Jack who I could kiss whenever I wanted to. Others, it would be like a filter dropped, and I saw Jack Eversea, movie star, a person I shouldn’t even touch. It was an odd feeling.

He watched me curiously, his hands at my waist. Then he curled his fingers into my shirt and pulled up. “You should probably get the sand off your body.”

I hesitated then smiled shyly at him and raised my arms, letting him pull the wet fabric from my skin. It smacked the floor as it dropped, and I stood in my small black cotton bra. Nothing lacy and sexy like I would have been wearing if I’d planned this moment. His face was broody and flushed and his eyes roamed over me. His mouth grew tight.

“Hey,” I whispered. “I think since I’m sandy and all, I probably should take my pants off, too.” I laughed.

“I feel like a horny teenager,” Jack croaked.

I smiled and quickly undid my sopping cargoes and shimmied them off. I could just be wearing a black bikini, I told myself. But we both knew different. As soon as I was standing under the spray in my bra and panties, I was in Jack’s arms. We were right back to where we’d left off. The water cascading over us tasted sweet in comparison to the salt of sweat and seawater.

Jack groaned and his tongue stroked into my mouth, bringing my body up to a fever pitch of longing. His arms were wrapped around me, and it was a heady feeling to have my bare skin pressed against his. Feeling the hard press of his arousal made me ache deeply. But it was also an instant reminder that we’d made love before and were probably going to do it again. I was nervous. And still thrown by what he’d admitted to doing to Audrey.

I shuddered, trying to reconcile the beautiful transcendent moments we’d shared—moments in which I’d experienced Jack being so tender and passionate with me—with the animalistic coupling full of anger and humiliation I saw in my mind’s eye when I thought of him and Audrey together.

“Hey,” Jack eased back and looked at me. “What’s up?”

I hung my head, resting my forehead against his chest. I felt his heart thudding and heard the swallow of his throat.

He hesitated, and then wrapped his arms around my shoulders, kissing my wet hair. “We can take it slow, Keri Ann, I promise. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He swallowed loudly again. “Ever. But please talk to me. Please. You’re making me nervous.”

I nodded against his chest, not really knowing what to say.

He pulled away then, and grasping my shoulders, turned me around gently to face away from him. I looked quizzically back at him over my shoulder, but he was reaching for the shampoo. He squirted some into his hand, and lathered it, then reached his fingers up to my hair.

Oh, yes.

I acquiesced and dipped my head back.

The smell of the piney shampoo flowed around us, the source of Jack’s scent I remembered from when he was here last, uncovered. I was almost sad to know the mystery but closed my eyes with a barely suppressed moan as Jack’s fingers slid against my scalp, massaging the lather in. There was nothing sexual, but everything sensual about what he was doing. It was confusing but too exquisite to question. He gently massaged and worked the lather through to the ends, his hands then sliding the suds down the exposed skin of my shoulders and back. I felt a tug at my bra closure and tensed as it came loose. Jack, still behind me, slid the straps off my arms and tugged the wet material forward and off my body.