Free Long Gone Girl by Amy Rose Bennett

respite from
his overwhelming desire to make her his own, even if it was only
this one time. Ginny clutched at his shoulders, her hands fisting
into his sodden T-shirt as she sagged against him. A deep moan
spilled from her throat and she tangled her tongue with his,
tasting him back with equal fervor. Sucked and nipped at his lower
lip. A wanton, wet, writhing creature in the rain.
    A Ginny unlike any he’d ever known
before.
    He loved it.
    Sliding a hand down her back he then cupped
her peach-shaped arse before hauling her hips hard up against him,
so she could feel the strength of his arousal for her. Only
her.
    And somehow, some way, he had to make her
see that he was the only man she’d ever need or want, or love
again.
     
    ***
     
    Ginny wrapped her arms about Jett’s neck, clinging to
him like he was her only life-line in this wild storm assailing her
from both within and without. Sweet Lord above. What was this
frenzied, fevered madness that had overcome her? That made her push
her breasts into Jett’s chest and grind her hips against his thick
erection. Drink in his drugging kisses like she was dying of
thirst?
    But why question or worse, bury these
feelings any longer, because when all was said and done, wasn’t
this what she truly wanted? To be held by Jett? Kissed by him?
Swept away? Yes, yes and yes again. Her wanting for this man pulsed
insistently deep inside her, a force as strong as the raging sea or
the tempest of wind and rain whipping about them. She was powerless
to resist. She had to be with him, this man that some fundamental
part of her had always wanted. Even if it was for one night
only.
    Jett dragged his mouth away. “We can’t stay
out here.” His voice was a deep, warm rasp in her ear. “We’ll
drown.”
    He was right. Ginny gripped one of his
hands. “Come with me.”
    The Driftwood Boarding House was only five
houses down. She tugged Jett along the boardwalk then down the
flooded front path until they were safely beneath the wooden
porch.
    Pushing a tangle of sopping wet hair out of
her eyes—her ponytail had completely collapsed—she stood on tip-toe
and peered through the paneled window at the top of the door. The
hall light was on but otherwise the passageway leading to the
stairs and her room was deserted.
    “What are you doing?” Jett murmured in her
ear, his hands sliding around her waist. His erection hadn’t
diminished despite the run through the freezing rain.
    Ginny shivered, but not because she was
cold. “Checking to see if the coast is clear. Mrs. Fingle, the
proprietress, doesn’t let men stay here.”
    Jett’s deep chuckle, warmed her ear. “We
could always go back to The Beacon.”
    “In this?” Ginny gestured at the rainstorm
still raging behind them. “You have got to be kidding.” She could
fetch her car but she sure as hell wasn’t going to traipse through
the lobby of the upmarket Beacon Hotel looking like something the
cat had dragged in from a flooded gutter.
    Jett shrugged, then ran his wicked tongue
around the curve of her ear before gently pulling on her ear-lobe
with his teeth. A bolt of sizzling heat shot all the way to her
lower belly—her pussy. Dear Lord, he was making her think dirty
thoughts already.
    “It’s pretty dark here,” he murmured. “We
could always make-out—”
    “Shhh, duck out of the way. Mrs. Fingle’s
seen me. She’s coming.”
    Jett slid to the side, and stood flush
against the weatherboard wall, biting his cheek as if to stop
himself laughing. Ginny shot him a warning look just as the front
door opened.
    “Mrs. Williams,” exclaimed the decidedly
stout and matronly Mrs. Fingle. “Look at you, you poor dear. Fancy
getting caught out in this weather. Come in, come in at once.”
    “Ah, if you don’t mind, and if it’s not too
much trouble, would you mind fetching me another towel or two?”
Ginny gestured at herself. “As you can see I’m absolutely soaked
through and I wouldn’t want to ruin your hall