Long Gone Girl by Amy Rose Bennett Read Free Book Online Page B

hand on his chest, over his
heart. “Hey. I promised to be good, remember? I’m on my best
behavior here, believe me. Your opinion means a lot to me.”
    “Hmm.” Ginny’s gaze was speculative as it
wandered over him, but again, he thought there was a hint of
amusement in her expression. “I’m still making up my mind about
you. You’re still very much a fast fly-boy if I’m not mistaken. But
that being said, I believe your explanation, Jett.”
    Relief surged through Jett like a wave on
the incoming tide. She hadn’t exactly forgiven him, but it was a
start. And more than he probably deserved. He captured her gaze,
eager to say the one last thing that needed to be said. An apology
from the heart. “I’m so sorry, for everything that I did…or didn’t
do, Ginny. And for hurting you so much,” he said, his voice
suddenly rough with emotion. He swallowed and chanced catching her
hand. “But I’m not sorry for the dance, or the kiss we shared. As
for anything else…” On an impulse, he linked his fingers with hers.
“It’s up to you, what happens from here on in. But don’t forget,
you did promise to spend the day with me.”
    Ginny smiled, almost shyly, reminding him of
the sweet girl he used to know. “I did.”
    Jett’s heart rate kicked up a notch, and he
couldn’t suppress a grin. “So do we have a truce?”
    Her smile widened, and her whole face lit
up. Grace Kelly had nothing on her.
    “We do,” she answered, then raised a finely
arched brow. “So…how do you propose we spend the rest of the
afternoon?”
    Wicked woman. Didn’t she know she was
playing with fire, asking him a question like that with mischief
dancing in her eyes? But he knew a test when he heard one. He might
be forgiven, for now, but he was still walking on a thin line. He
would be foolish indeed to shatter Ginny’s new-found trust in
him.
    Still holding her hand, he pulled her to her
feet. “How do you feel about carousel rides?”

Six
    Sitting in the hushed
darkness of Point Pleasant’s Arnold Theater with Jett beside her,
Ginny almost felt like Princess Ann in ‘Roman Holiday’. She’d spent
most of the afternoon with an incredibly handsome man doing
entirely silly things—they’d had a carousel ride, eaten ice-cream,
chatted pleasantly about inconsequential things as they’d taken a
stroll along the boardwalk, and now they were watching this
wonderfully romantic movie. But unlike Audrey Hepburn’s character,
there had been no hand-holding or hugs or physical contact of any
kind for Ginny. Jett had been a perfect gentleman throughout the
entire afternoon—just as he’d promised—and Ginny was fit to burst
with frustration.
    Which she knew was beyond unreasonable. Jett
was only doing as she’d asked—and it was only sensible that they
both kept this chance reconciliation platonic—but it seemed her
body had different ideas. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and
tried to focus on the final bitter-sweet scene unfolding between
the dashing Joe and the effortlessly elegant Ann. But it was
hopeless. All she could think about was the slick heaviness between
her thighs, and the ache of her tight nipples pushing against her
bra—thank heavens it was dark—as her body reacted to the
overwhelmingly male presence of Jett. The scent of him—his cologne
and the essence of the man himself—teased her nostrils. The warmth
of his body so close but not quite touching hers—it was pure
torture and it had been like this for hours. She couldn’t take much
more.
    Snatches of dialogue between the
star-crossed lovers in the film caught her attention briefly. But
then Jett moved.
    Even though the light was dim and her gaze
was still directed at the screen, Ginny was acutely aware of one of
Jett’s denim-clad muscular thighs as he stretched it out before
him, almost bumping her leg; his strong forearm with its
light dusting of dark hair, resting on the chair arm between them, almost brushing her own bare arm. Suddenly