The Truest Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 4)

He’d lose his mind if he did that.

Emery swallowed hard, and Jack studied every flicker and nuance of emotion on her face, fascinated by her.

Why her? he thought. Why did she have to be so beautiful to him in every way?

It fucking hurt.

It would be best if she hated him too. But the very idea … Jack was sure if Em hated him, he’d be done for. The anger eating away at Jack would consume him.

“Don’t be angry at me,” he said gruffly, studying her expression. “I thought I was helping you. I promise.”

“Were you jealous?” she blurted. Her eyes grew round, like she couldn’t believe she’d asked.

She was so goddamn adorable, it killed him. Because she was everything. He didn’t know one woman could be so much. Smart. Kind. Oblivious. Perceptive. Sexy. Beautiful. Classy. Awkward. Graceful. Innocent. Wise. And cute as hell. Jack huffed out an aggravated burst of laughter.

It would be so easy, he thought, weary to his bones, to just give in to her. Jack bent his head, breathing her in as he rested his forehead on her shoulder near the crook of her neck.

“Jack?” she whispered.

He could feel her chest rising and falling faster as his nearness affected her.

Jesus.

She smelled so good. What would it be like to lie with her skin to skin, wrapped up together, just breathing each other in? To confide everything and have her be a safe place to fall?

Jack turned his head so his nose pressed to her skin and he groaned, melting deeper as images of losing himself in her filled his mind. He buried his head in her throat, feeling her pulse flutter wildly against his lips. He brushed his lips against the flutter. Another brush, her skin soft and warm. Then he touched his tongue to her pulse, and her whimper of need was like a lightning bolt down his spine and straight to his dick.

“Jack,” she breathed his name. It was a plea.

And he lost his mind.

He lifted his head, looked into her desire-filled eyes, and lost his fucking mind.

His lips crashed down over hers as he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her from the wall and against his body.

She kissed him back. Just like she’d kissed him on the beach all those years ago.

Emery Saunders may have been a good girl.

But she sure as hell didn’t kiss like one.

She kissed him like she couldn’t breathe without those kisses. Hungry, deep, savage kisses that fired his blood. Her hands were just as hungry. Searching. Touching. Caressing.

He returned the favor, thrilled at the sound of her bracelets jangling in his ears as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Then he zeroed in on the one place he’d wanted to touch since the moment he’d seen her.

Jack slid his hands down her slender back and cupped her ass. He groaned down her throat at the feel of her. Firm, supple, round cheeks that he wanted to bite.

He wanted Em naked on her knees, that beautiful ass in his hands as he fucked her. They stumbled back against the wall as the images made him more desperate, starving. His dick was rock hard against Em’s belly.

All Jack would have to do was lower himself just a little and then press up, and he’d be right between her sweet thighs.

As if his body had a mind of his own, it did just that, his dick pushing against his jeans and the fabric of her dress between her legs. The dress was in the way. Swallowing Em’s breathy moans in his kiss, Jack fumbled for the material, bunching it in his fist, pulling it upward.

“Jack!” she gasped, breaking the kiss, her hands pressing against his chest.

For a moment he was confused, still lost in the fog of lust.