Dammit to hell.
I let her pull me out and away, but not before I got close enough to see the nearest bouquet and the faded words written on a card jammed inside the plastic cover.
Jaime—I miss you. Ginny
I practically growled as I grabbed a pair of jeans from my room and shoved them at her before I lead her down the stairs and pushed her out the back door. “Meet me at the bike. I’ll be right there.”
“Evan, don’t—”
I put my finger on her lip, making her quiet. “Just meet me out there. I’ll be right behind you.”
She nodded and went. I turned away to the kitchen, hoping one of the housemaids was hanging around. I was in luck. Tom’s girlfriend Heather was just coming out. She smiled and waited when I flagged her down.
“What is it, Evan?”
I hesitated and decided going with the truth was easier. “Somebody dumped a shitload of dead flowers in Ginny’s room. She’s freaked, and I’m getting her out. Is there anyway you could clean it up before we come back?”
Heather looked horrified. “No shit. What the hell is that all about?”
I shook my head, not wanting to spread my suspicions around.
“Well yeah, the other girls’ll help me. We’ll get it cleaned up.”
I thanked her and ran out to meet Ginny. She was staring off into nowhere, holding my spare helmet, but she forced herself to smile when she saw me. “You ready, sugar?”
I tossed her the spare jacket from my saddlebag and climbed on. “Past ready. Let’s get the hell out of here. Hold on tight!”
She jumped on and wrapped her arms around me. I knocked my faceplate down and let the Indian go.
There’s something about the deep rumbling vibration of this kind of machine, the close intimacy of that much power rocketing between your legs. I gave myself over to the feel of Ginny behind me, and half a ton of speeding seventy-five horsepower under me. Nothing but the rumble, the road, and her.
Ginny’s hands wrapped up and under my jacket. She gave me directions by touch, kept us to the less-traveled roads until the beach came in sight. I took my time, guiding the bike up and over the sand until we’d reached her secret beach. Ginny’s hands were there, prying off my helmet before I had time to do more than drop the kickstand. It thudded to the sand as her lips found my jaw.
I sighed.
“Ginny…”
I had really hoped to talk this out. I needed to know what was going on, needed to know she was all right. I needed to know if she was in danger or if anyone else was. But I also knew this was her defense mechanism.
And God, her touch…
I was positive she knew what it did to me. I was even pretty sure she was using it to keep me distracted, to keep me from asking questions.
“Hold onto me,” she whispered. My arm caught her instinctively as she swung herself around to straddle my lap.
“Ginny, wait…”
I wasn’t kidding anyone, myself included. The minute she touched me, I didn’t give a damn about anything else. The threats, the attacks, nothing. I knew she was deflecting, but my body didn’t care. The minute her mouth opened on mine, there was nothing but her. Her lips, her tongue sliding into me. Her hands on my chest under my jacket. I didn’t even know when she’d unzipped my jacket. I didn’t care. She slid her hands up to my shoulders, pushing the leather off me, and all I cared about was her.
“Mmm, good boy,” she whispered against my mouth. “No shirt.” In my hurry, I hadn’t grabbed one. And I was so glad I hadn’t.
Ginny’s fingers swarmed over my skin while I struggled with the jacket she still wore. I wanted to touch her, to take her right here on the back of my bike. I wanted her skin on mine, and by God I wanted that jacket off her.
“Patience, Evan.” She winked and leaned back, unzipping the blue-and-white leather jacket. My hands twitched, fingers digging into her thighs as she slid it off. Her eyes never left mine.
“We need to talk about what happened back there…”
Her jacket hit the sand. My brain shut off as her lips closed on mine again.
Forget it, I told myself. I’ll talk to her later. Let her deal with the shock. I can be that for her.
My hands trailed up and down her back, too conscious of the small strings of her bikini. Just one little tug… What little blood was left in my brain flew south as she wiggled her hips against me, hooking her legs over mine and scooting closer, pressing her stomach to mine. My hand slipped off her and down onto the instrument panel when she bit at my lip.
I slid my mouth from hers and down her jaw in response, and I smiled when she gasped.
“Lord today, Evan. I need this. I need you, and…oh God…” Her voice faded to a moan as I nibbled at the soft skin at the base of her throat.
I chuckled, forcing myself to slow down. The taste of her skin, the feel of its softness against my lips. I wanted to savor it all. I wanted to savor her. I didn’t even care why I was doing it anymore. My tongue slid into the dip in her shoulder, tasting sweat and salt and the sweetness that was her.
Ginny’s hands slipped into the back of my jeans, and I jumped. She just leaned back on my handlebars and bit her lip in a grin. “Somebody’s a little jumpy.”
“Somebody’s a little eager.”
She laughed. “You’re a beautiful distraction, and I really need one about now.”
I knew I was a distraction. I knew she was using me to forget about whatever was happening. But her fingers trailed up my back and around to my chest, and I forgot she’d said anything. Her hands roamed while her lips trailed along my collarbone. I closed my eyes and let my hands close around her waist.
“Have you ever had sex on the back of your bike?”
My eyes flew open. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.
“I’ve always wanted to try. And Lord, the way this thing idles, I think I’m already half there.”
I tried to jump-start my brain. “Jeans. We both have jeans on.”
Ginny laughed, and nipped at my jaw before sliding off the Indian. “That can change.” Before I could say anything, her jeans hit the sand. I tried to stand, to get away, but she pushed me back down and climbed back on.
“Ginny, last night…”
Her hands dropped to my belt. “Last night was amazing, and I need more of it.”
I knew I should stop her. Last night had been wrong. I’d taken advantage of her. Or let her take advantage of me, of the situation. Or something. But the weight of her in my lap, the feel of her hand pushing into my jeans sent all thoughts of right or wrong out of my head.
Especially when her fingers closed around my cock.
“Lord above, Ginny…”
She kissed my jaw and pushed me backwards. “Lean back, sugar.”
I leaned back. Ginny’s hands tugged at my jeans and swim trunks until they rode low on my hips. She’d already unlaced my trunks when I wasn’t looking. And then her hands were on me again, freeing me from my clothing, and there was no way in hell I was saying no now.
“Lord, look at you.”
I looked. I couldn’t help it—it was something in her voice. An I-want-to-devour-you quality. Ginny’s eyes rested firmly on the part of me she’d freed. Her tongue drew across her lips, and the ache grew almost unbearable. She reached out and ran a finger down me, and it was too much. My head fell back with a moan. This girl would be the death of me.
“Evan, sugar.” Her eyes captured mine when I looked at her again. She pushed two fingers in her bikini top and came out with a condom. I shook my head slowly, and she grinned. “You’re gonna have to keep this machine balanced, got it?”
I didn’t have words to answer. She was already rolling on the condom, and then she was climbing on me. I sat up, planting my feet, and grabbed her ass, helping her up as her mouth claimed mine.
Her fingers dug in my hair. “Ties, Evan.”
I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what she meant. Her hips rocked against me, and I looke
d down, unable to figure out why I wasn’t inside her yet.
Her bikini. It had ties at the waist.
My fingers fumbled at the ties, yanking the bit of Lycra from between us, and then she was there, pushing her heat onto me.
I groaned. It was too much, the way she rolled against me, the way she threw her head back, biting her lip and then laughing, and then pulled herself back to me to kiss me.
Lord, she was beautiful. Beautiful and dangerous, and so fucking hot.
She moaned and bit at my neck. “Oh God, Evan, this bike…”
I groaned. I knew what she meant. And without warning, she gripped me tight as her climax took her over, her heat pulsing around me, squeezing me tight. I held her to me and waited her out, until her body had calmed. And then I moved, pushing up and into her. Leaning her forward, I held her hip with one hand and grabbed one of the handlebars with the other. I felt completely taken over by the need to push into her, deeper and deeper.
I revved the still-idling engine, and she arched into me. “Evan! Lord, I need, I’m going to…”
I slammed into her harder. I needed it as much as she did. I revved the engine again and thrust deeper. I could feel myself tightening, so close…
One more rev of the engine, and she came again. The tight clenching of her body around me did me in. My body shuddered, and I pulled her tighter to me, kissing her screams of pleasure away.
We stayed at the beach all afternoon and into the evening. We talked, we swam, we held each other. We kissed in the sand and fucked in the ocean.
And every time I rubbed enough brain cells together to try to talk about what had happened, she made sure to distract me again. Asking about Rafe had her kissing a trail up my chest to my jaw, while she lectured me on not bringing other men into it. Trying to figure out who might’ve left dead flowers in her room got me tackled in the surf until I couldn’t think about anything but her mouth on mine.
I even tried going at it from the side. I brought up ghosts, the attic, everything I could think of, but the minute I got close to asking a question, her hands or her lips were there, wearing me down.
Eventually I gave up.
We watched the sunset together, Ginny wrapped around my back and her chin on my shoulder. I’d tried several times to hold her arms, but she wasn’t happy unless her fingers were tracing my tattoo. My hands eventually settled on her legs, my thumbs stroking along her calves and down to her ankles.
When the sun slipped below the waves and the fog rolled in, I pulled her around and into my lap and kissed her one more time.
“We should get back,” I whispered. Ginny just clung more tightly.
“Do we have to?”
“‘Fraid so. Your mama’s holding dinner for us in the kitchen.”
“I told you she likes you.”
I lifted her up with me when I stood, pressing her fingers to my lips, and then moved over to start the bike before we lost all the light. We found our clothes with the help of the headlamp, and dressed between kisses. Then she was wrapped around me again, and we were off, flying into the night.
Eyre House was mostly quiet when we got back, but even in its silence, I could feel it watching me. Even with Ginny next to me—or maybe because she was. For a moment, it almost felt like it glared at me.
Not good enough, not good enough, not good enough.
I could hear the litany repeated in the thrum of my engine.
I edged the bike into the garage and helped Ginny off, leaving our helmets on the counter next to my tools. Ginny shrugged out of my spare jacket and handed it back, but I stopped her.
“Keep it. It looks good on you.” It did. It fit her curves just right.
She cocked her head at me. “Do I even want to know why you have a girl’s jacket in your saddlebag?”
I laughed and tossed my jacket over my arm. “I bought it for my ex-girlfriend a year ago, just after I finished restoring the bike. And then I found out she was cheating on me. She never wore it. I understand if you don’t want it—”
“Her loss.” She smiled and grabbed my hand. “Come on now. I don’t know about you sugar, but I’m starving.”
We closed up the garage and walked through the dark fog to the house. The colonnade was softly lit against the night. Eyre House itself stood bright and larger than life at the end. It loomed up over us, like a disapproving father waiting with a shotgun. Ginny didn’t seem to notice. She pulled me across the lawn, oblivious to my reluctant steps. Her free hand swiped at fireflies, playing catch and release. I gave up my reluctance and walked beside her, watching, and wondering. Wondering about whatever was going on and what her role in it was. Wondering about her and me and if there was actually a her and me. I wasn’t stupid. Tom’s warning had never left me. But I could see myself falling hard for her, and if all she saw me as was a distraction—even a welcome one…
I jerked to a stop as something moved against the darkness. I was really getting tired of the damned black dog. “Ginny, are you sure Ben’s girlfriend came and got Pilot?”
“Yeah. Why?” Her eyes never left the fireflies, but I was beginning to notice when she was hiding something. Her voice lost its emotion, turned just slightly stiff.
But whatever I’d seen, specter or real, was gone. I shook my head at the vanishing shadows. “I swear I keep seeing him. Or hearing him.”
Ginny laughed and winked at me. “Seeing ghosts again?”
I frowned. “Something like that.” I looked again, but all I saw was moonlit Spanish moss blowing in the breeze. Ginny tugged me towards the house, but I stopped, sure now I’d seen someone on the far side of it.
“You’re just seeing ghosts, sugar. Leave it.”
I wasn’t about to, not this time. I changed directions, heading for whatever I’d seen. “No. I know someone’s there.”
“Evan.” She tugged at me, stopping my forward lurch. “Evan, stop.”
I turned to face her. “Why? Aren’t you worried about everything that’s been happening? The fire? Rafe? Keith?”
She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. “That’s… Yes. I am. But she doesn’t have anything to do with it.”
Hold up. “She?”
“Mama.”
I did a double take. “What?”
“Dammit all to hell. Mama. She smokes. I’ve been tryin’ to get her to quit, but when she’s stressed, she sneaks off for one. I keep tellin’ her she’s worse than a teenager sometimes.”
“Your mother’s a secret smoker.” Clearly my brain wasn’t keeping up. “Damn. She’s just full of surprises.”
“I know. But don’t tell anyone, please hon?”
I nodded. That explained the occasional whiff of perfume covering something else that I’d caught on her once or twice. My stomach growled, and Ginny laughed, breaking the mood.
“Let’s get some food before we both die of starvation.”
She pulled me along, and I reluctantly followed.
Chapter Eleven
I rolled over into the early morning sun and grimaced, still thinking about the day before. I was worried about Ginny, about everything that kept happening. And I was drowning in her. When I closed my eyes, I could feel her hands on me, could taste her skin, floated in her sunshine scent.
God, I was hooked. Totally and irrevocably hooked on Miss Virginia Jane Eyre. Her touch was as addicting as a drug. I wanted more.
But I was seriously concerned she was in danger. Or that everyone around her was.
I was also worried that she knew more than she was letting on, and that was only making things worse.
I rolled out of bed with my brain still going a mile a minute, and grabbed for the cargos I’d abandoned yesterday in favor of my garage jeans. They crinkled as I pulled them on, a sudden reminder of yesterday’s forgotten news.
I reached in the pocket and pulled out the envelope, then tossed it to my nightstand on top of the weird tin soldier I’d found in the showerhead and finished getting dressed. I hoped leaving t
he letter in plain sight would remind me to call. It was too early to deal with it right then. And the toy—I had no idea what to do with that.
Outside, the ocean-born fog was fighting the heat of the sun for dominance over the island. It scattered the light and sound, so it took me a minute to recognize the voices outside my window.
“…told you to go home.”
“…you’re not safe…dangerous...”
I leaned closer to the window, trying to hear, trying to identify the speakers. I was pretty sure one was Ginny, but I couldn’t make out the other.
“Ben is unstable…”
Ben, Ben, Ben… My thoughts churned, trying to remember where I’d heard the name. Ginny’s cousin Ben?
The fog shifted just as I remembered. I grimaced.
Rafe.
“…told you I’ll deal with him. And what about…”
“…if he hurts…”
“…won’t be a problem…not him.”
“…don’t trust…”
“Go home…serious.”
Rafe said something else I couldn’t make out and walked off. I watched Ginny as he left. Her back was turned, but even through the fog I could see the tension in her shoulders.
I made up my mind to talk to her today. I needed to know what was going on before something else happened.
I spent the morning working with the grounds crew, and glancing up every time I thought I heard Ginny’s voice. When I finally did, I didn’t expect her to be shouting at the top of her lungs out front.
I didn’t think twice—just ran. Should’ve guessed what I’d find.
Whatever Brandon Ingram had said, Ginny’d finally lost it with him. She was about two inches from his face and about two seconds from knocking his ass to the ground. And he still didn’t get it. As much as I really would’ve loved to watch her take him out (and I didn’t doubt she could), I knew it was a bad idea.
“…self-righteous son of a bitch! Get off my property before I have you arrested for trespassing!” Her finger jabbed into his chest with every other word.
I slid in-between them and grabbed Ginny, pushing her back.
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