Eversea: A Love Story Part 14

"Uh, thanks," Jack called out, heading for it.

"No problem," she sang. "Y'all have fun!"

And we heard Joey's bedroom door bang shut.

T W E N T Y - O N E.

I looked at Jack in my darkened living room. He was still standing awkwardly and soaking wet, but now trying to dry himself over his wet clothes. He should really take them off before he got a chill, but I was going to bite my tongue until it bled before I suggested that.

"How did you get here?" It suddenly occurred to me I hadn't heard his bike.

"I ran, slash, walked."

"In the rain?"

"Well, it was a bit dangerous to be out on the bike, and it didn't seem so far ... but I wasn't thinking about what it feels like to try and get somewhere fast in soaking wet jeans. And d.a.m.n, when it rains, it rains here."

It sure did. "And why are you here?"

He looked around the room, maybe for somewhere to sit, before settling down onto his haunches and looking into the fire. The firelight dancing across the planes of his face was devastating.

I swallowed and looked away.

"Yeah, sorry about there being no furniture," I said a little acidly, maybe to cover my nerves. "Apparently someone paid to have my floors done."

"There is such a thing as a gift without strings, Keri Ann," he said quietly. "Not that I've ever received one, but I certainly didn't expect anything from you for that. I just did it. Without thinking. I could. So I did." He shrugged, as if it had been the most simple thing in the world. Like buying a cup of coffee. "But, I'm sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was upset you. I understand pride. Trust me." He laughed, humorlessly.

My heart twisted at his reference to never having been given a gift with no strings. I was such a sap.

He seemed to gear up to say something else, like he was trying to find the right words to explain something. "I want to go and tell everyone to get screwed," he started. "But I owe them too much. I wouldn't be where I am today in my career without them. It makes me doubt my ability. But it's not actually me they care about, I'm alone in this. They care about me being in the right place at the right time, dating the right person," he looked at me before continuing, "G.o.d, I know I'm not making sense to you. I know I tried to explain this before ... "

I could tell it was hard for him to admit to his vulnerability, but what he was saying was still making me mad. It just screamed weakness. I knew he was better than this. And all I wanted to ask him was, "Did you really call Audrey and tell her you were getting back together?" It was out of my mouth before I could help myself.

He took a deep breath. "Not in the way you mean. She issued a statement publicly apologizing."

"I know. Jazz read about it."

He nodded. "It was such a stunt. I haven't been taking her calls so I guess she got desperate to communicate with me. I should have, we've been through so much, I owed her at least a phone call."

That was up for debate, but I stayed silent.

"I did call her last night, to talk. She didn't answer. But I guess she took that as a sign I was ready to work on fixing everything."

So, he didn't betray me, exactly. "Are you?"

"No. But I'm not sure how to move forward. I called her again tonight. We're going to be traveling around the world together for the next two months as the publicity tour starts up. We are going to have to be together, we are going to have be seen as being together."

The emphasis to the word 'being' left no doubt in my mind about what it meant. I envisioned photo shoots, red carpets, interviews, public displays of affection ... and shared hotel rooms. Would it be rude if I excused myself to go and be sick?

He stood up and turned to me. I saw goose b.u.mps on his arms as he tried to get warm despite his wet clothes. "That's what I came here to say, Keri Ann." His green eyes looked almost black in the dark room. "I came here to apologize. First, for not trusting you and a.s.suming the worst. Second, for letting what we have between us develop into anything. I should never have let it get so far." His words were stones. .h.i.tting the bottom of my stomach. "And I know seeing that text from Audrey hurt you." He grimaced. "I'm sorry. That's what made me realize how careless I was being."

Hot shame swarmed over me at the naive, star-stuck, and broken-hearted little girl he saw me as. And it made me mad as h.e.l.l. I just didn't trust myself to say anything. Or move. I wanted to slap his face. And I had never wanted to hit another person in my whole life. Except maybe Joey sometimes. And Jazz. Ok, maybe I did like smacking people.

He wasn't done though. He ran a hand through his dark wet hair and shook his head, seemingly unaware of the anger and shame thrumming through me.

"Look at us both, too scared to really live and do things the way we want to."

I snapped and shoved at his chest. "Do you think I just sit here working and struggling because I'm too scared? I'm here because I made a deal. My brother and I only have each other left and we made a deal, it's his turn. Then it will be mine. Maybe you don't know what it's like to make a sacrifice for someone else. I can only a.s.sume you made it in your career by always putting yourself first. Well, the rest of the world doesn't live in your empty vacuum. We have lives, and families, or had," I amended. "And choices. And we make decisions based on all of those things, not just the ones that put ourselves at the top. Maybe the reason you are so lonely is you never think of anyone else!"

He flinched like I'd followed through on my urge to slap him. I knew I'd gone too far. I hadn't really meant that. I was just so angry, and the words that streamed from me wanted to cut him and make him feel as bad I did. Punish him for making me feel like a naive, unambitious girl who wasn't good enough for him.

To my shame, I suddenly realized, as I had this afternoon up in the attic, that he was right in a way. I had been scared. I was using Joey as an excuse not to do something with my life. I wanted to apologize, but he spoke first.

"You're wrong," he said quietly. "I haven't thought about anyone but you since the moment we met."

The crackle of the fire was suddenly deafening in the silence between us. Did he really just say that?

"So," I started, unsure of how to interpret his conflicting words. "So, I still don't understand."

His hands came up to the back of his neck again as he looked down at the ground. The action drew my attention to his broad shoulders. Oh, how I wanted those arms wrapped around me. When he looked up again the stark emotion on his face was unlike anything I had seen. I had read books and books about men and women betraying a world of emotions with just one glance. I used to chalk it up to artistic license, but this was really happening. I swallowed.

"Did you mean it today when you said you were sorry you kissed me?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.

Never. I was going to hang onto those memories forever. I managed to shake my head.

"Did you mean it, just now, when you said it was careless?" I responded, barely finding my voice.

"Touche," he said, his tone low. "I haven't lied to you, Keri Ann. About anything. When I told you I had never felt this way before I meant it. When you walked out today, I ... it ... " He bunched a fist up and planted it knuckles down in the center of his chest. "I shouldn't have let you go. Or maybe I should have, for your sake. I ... s.h.i.t, this is hard."

I waited. I was on that freaking tightrope again, except this time someone else was in control of it. I didn't like it one bit. The hope warring with the hurt in my gut was making me nauseous.

"I guess what I'm asking you, Keri Ann ... is ... knowing what you know, about Audrey, about the contract ... about me ... will you take a chance?"

I wondered if he knew how amazing he looked wet. I mean, what with the sweaty Jack, the paddleboarding Jack, the swimming Jack, and now the rain-soaked Jack, I really wasn't being given much in the way of strength to say no.

I walked over to the blanket near where he was standing and sat down facing the fire. I hugged my knees to my chest. I needed my hot chocolate. Seeing it on the mantle next to him, I pointed at it.

"Farmboy, fetch me that pitcher?" I was hoping the Princess Bride reference would help ease the tension a little.

He paused a moment at my non-sequitur, and then the dimple appeared with his faint smile, and he handed it to me.

"As you wish."

I smiled back and took it.

"Thanks."

I took a sip, thankful it was still warm. I held it out to him, and he crouched down again next to me.

"Taste?" I asked.

He took it from my hand, but instead of taking a sip, he set it down on the floor out of reach. Then his hand cupped my face and turned me toward him, his eyes searching mine.

"Say yes, Keri Ann."

I sighed and closed my eyes against the feel of his skin.

"Yes." It was the easiest thing I'd ever said.

He shifted, dropping his knees to the floor in front of me. His other hand came up to cradle my face, his thumbs running over my jaw and cheekbones. I watched him under my lashes as his eyes roamed my face, and then his mouth descended to my forehead, each eyelid, one cheekbone, then the other, and finally, my mouth.

I clutched his wrists for balance as his tongue lightly ran over the seam of my lips. I opened to him, and he groaned.

"Mmmm, chocolate." He took another taste. "And margaritas." His tongue slid along mine again. "And Keri Ann. A heady mix."

It was for me. My heart pounded deep throbbing beats through my body. Still holding his arms, I came forward to my knees and we both raised up our bodies meeting from leg to chest. My hands worked of their own volition winding up his neck and into his wet hair, and I pulled his mouth more firmly down against mine.

His lips were warm and soft next to the rough skin of his chin, and I drew closer to him like a magnet, needing to press my body, my skin, against his. But there were two layers of fabric between us, and I became aware of the cool press of his wet t-shirt.

Letting go of his neck, I brought my hands down to slide under the hem of his shirt. He inhaled sharply as my warm hands made contact with his skin.

"You need to take this off," I managed. My voice sounded raspy to my own ears as I made to lift the fabric.

He let go of me and reached behind his neck. Gathering a handful of shirt, he peeled it forward over his head.

My breath left me as I came face to chest with his perfectly sculpted body. The firelight played across his skin and his flexed abdominal muscles as he leaned back on his haunches slightly to lay the shirt out by the fire.

Without thinking, I brought the flat of my hand up to the center of his chest below his collarbone. His skin was cool to the touch and smooth.

He stilled where he was, leaning slightly away from me on his knees and brought his eyes to mine.

I very slowly ran my palm down over the ridges and planes of his chest, pausing for a moment when I noticed the hard beat of his heart. His eyes got darker and broodier as my hand continued it's slow journey downward. His breathing changed, as did my own in response. My eyes dropped to follow my hand as it reached the belt buckle of his black jeans.

I took a deep breath. "You should take these off, too." My words came out as a whisper.

His jaw tightened, his dark eyes watching me.

I went to undo the buckle but his hands stilled me. For a moment, I thought he was going to keep his wet clothes on. As much as he needed to take them off so they could dry and he could get warm, I was hyper aware of the combustible situation that existed between us. I knew he was too.

He shifted away and brought up one foot, then the other, to undo the laces on his black boots. His socks came next, and he laid them by the fire. I was mesmerized by every action. His hands returned to his buckle as he stood and undid the belt and his b.u.t.tons, revealing the waistband of his black boxer briefs. Then, leaning down, he shucked his jeans off each leg and stood back up.

My shallow breathing was loud next to the soft crackle and pop of the fire, and I swallowed the lump in my throat as my eyes took in how aroused he was. He was glorious in his perfection, like a dark angel.

He reached for the towel and wrapped it around his middle covering himself, and I realized my face must have shown my trepidation. I looked up at him.

"It's okay, Keri Ann. I'm not going to take advantage of you."

Oh, but I wished he would.

T W E N T Y T W O "I'm not the one who's undressed. You should be worried about me taking advantage of you." I grinned sheepishly.

Jack chuckled and came over to sit beside me by the fireplace.

I pulled the blanket up over our legs.

The storm picked up again and there was a flash of lightning followed by a sharp crack of thunder that was a whip on my tightened nerves. I jumped.

"You don't like storms?" he asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and tucking me in against him. It felt good and unexpected.

"Actually, I love stormy nights. Hot chocolate and firelight and now barely dressed men have probably made them my all time favorite." I nudged him playfully, my awareness of him still simmering insistently in a warm pool inside me.

He laughed and squeezed my shoulders.

I realized he was telling the truth. He really wouldn't take advantage of me.

I took a deep breath and turned to him. Drawing his face down to mine, I kissed him.

He held his body tense as I touched my lips to his.

It was slow and soft, his lips giving way to mine and moving in gentle rhythm, tasting my lips with his lips. The kisses were delicious, but I wanted more. I wanted pa.s.sionate Jack who couldn't control his breathing or his reactions when he was kissing me.

I turned more fully toward him and tentatively ran the tip of my tongue along his lower lip like he had done to me.

Jack's reaction was swift. It was like he'd been waiting for permission. One minute we were sitting side by side, the next he gave a soft growl and had me on my back with half his body covering me.

I gasped under the sudden move and his weight before he lowered his mouth and plundered mine. Heat speared through my core and my body, of it's own accord, arched to meet his.

Jack's lips moved with greed, his tongue sliding in and claiming me, leaving me almost lightheaded.

Reaching up, I clutched the hair at his nape and sought to taste more of what he was giving me. The feel of his body along the length of mine was intoxicating. My hands roamed down over his bare shoulders, clutching at the tense muscles in his back. I wished I were wearing less. I had a demanding need to feel my skin against his. That annoying ache I had a feeling only one thing would fix had started up between my legs and was getting more and more intense.

Jack's kisses moved down toward my neck.

I sighed with pleasure and shivered involuntarily as his tongue trailed up over my earlobe.

"You like that?" he whispered in my ear causing another shudder to run through me.

I nodded with an incoherent sound and felt his smile against my sensitive skin before his tongue darted out again. I moaned, tilting my head back and exposing more of my neck to his hot mouth. Yes, please. I wanted a lot more of that, too.

The movement had thrust my chest forward toward him and his hand came up to rest on the bare skin of my stomach where my shirt had ridden up. One of his legs was slung over mine, and I felt how hard he was for me. From experience that was limited to pictures I had giggled over with Jazz, or my imagination, he felt ... big. A tremor ran through me.

He came up on an elbow, and I opened my eyes through the fog of desire to meet his intense, hooded gaze. I became aware of how rapidly I was breathing, but was completely helpless to stop it, especially as his hand at my waist slowly pushed my shirt upward. He held my eyes, unflinching, and I bit my lip with nerves as he slipped my shirt further upward and exposed first one breast, then the other. The cool air hitting my exposed skin made my already hard nipples pebble into painful peaks. My breath was almost coming in pants. G.o.d, I wanted him to touch me.

His eyes left mine and dropped to my newly exposed flesh. His jaw tensed, and his nostrils flared. He ran a fingertip up the channel between my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and then around each one excruciatingly slowly.

"G.o.d, you're beautiful," he whispered. His warm breath across my skin was too much.

"Please-" I croaked and arched up further.