The Truest Thing - Hart's Boardwalk

Then he was rounding the island, striding with purpose. Jack pulled me against his hard heat, my breasts crushed to his chest. My breathing grew shallow.

“Don’t make me leave tonight, Em. I need to be near you.”

“I—”

“Don’t.” He squeezed his eyes closed and rested his forehead on mine. “I know you can’t make me any promises. But let me stay tonight. I won’t hold you to anything in the morning.”

My heart raced as I realized what he was asking.

Heat flushed through me, my lower belly trembled, and an intense ache grew between my legs. The truth was, I didn’t want to be alone either, and I was tired of fighting how I felt about Jack.

Maybe I’d been too harsh before.

Clearly he cared about me.

Clearly the money wasn’t an issue.

Jack.

I missed being touched. Being held. Being needed.

I kissed him on the lips. A soft brush of mouth against mouth.

He groaned, sinking into the kiss, his arms wrapping around me, crushing me against him. His kiss was hungry. Almost desperate. And the heat coating my skin abruptly felt like flames flickering across my body.

I broke the kiss, panting for breath, and Jack’s fingers dug into my back like he was afraid I was pulling away for good. I swear my heart was about ready to burst out of my chest. My cheeks bloomed with warmth as I whispered, “Would you like to come upstairs?”

“Yeah, sunrise, I would like that very much,” Jack replied hoarsely.

I took his hand and led him there, marveling at my bravery. Never in a million years did I ever think I’d have the courage to invite a man into my bedroom. But I guessed after being held at gunpoint and shooting a man, all I cared about was feeling close to Jack. It overruled every other thought and emotion.

We stopped by my bed and Jack didn’t give me time to think. He was holding me tight, kissing me voraciously.

My emotions fed into the kiss as I wound my arms around his neck and curled my fingers into his soft, thick hair. I loved his hair. Our tongues stroked in desperation.

I pushed at his jacket, and he dropped his arms so he could shrug out of it. We didn’t break the kiss, our mouths pulling at each other’s.

Jack moved me back in the direction of the bed, and our lips didn’t part until he lifted and then dropped me on my back across the middle of the mattress.

I laid there, panting, my entire body aflame. He kept me trapped in his gaze as he unbuttoned his shirt.

All I could do was watch in utter fascination.

This was nine years of longing finally coming to a culmination.

That ache between my legs became almost unbearable.

Jack tugged off his shirt and threw it behind him. Just as I’d imagined, he was all hard, lean muscle, and I’d barely had time to ogle him when he took hold of the hem of my long dress. Slowly, he pushed it up past my thighs, over my stomach, my breasts, and I raised my arms above my head so he could pull it off. His eyes devoured, raking over me as I lay under him in my white cotton bra and panties. I had a moment of insecurity. I bet Jack was used to women who wore fancy lingerie.

There was a twinge of pain near my heart.

I didn’t want to think about Jack with other women.

“Whatever put that pretty frown between your brows, get rid of it,” Jack whispered. “Because you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You will always be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You need proof.” He drew my gaze to the thick arousal stretching the fabric of his pants. “I’m a grown man and you do this to me with just a whisper in my ear.”

I gasped at the thought, shivering with anticipation.

When I looked up, our eyes met.

“Do you want me like I want you?”

Butterflies fluttered wildly in my belly. I felt like a teenager. Like a virgin. But it didn’t stop me from replying, “Yes, Jack. I want you very badly.”

He closed his eyes for a minute, seeming to savor those words. And then when he opened them, I shivered at the stark longing and lust glittering in their blue-gray depths. Leaning over me, he grazed his knuckles across my stomach, his eyes following his fingers as they trailed along the edge of my underwear. I sucked in my breath at the sensation.

“Jesus, Em, I’m trying to be a gentleman, I want to go slow, make love to you …” His eyes moved up my body. “But I don’t want to treat you like bone china either.”

My nipples peaked against my bra at the dark arousal in his voice. “I’m not bone china, Jack. I don’t want to be treated like I’m fragile. I’m not.”