Endangered Hearts (5 page)

Jack was stunned himself but couldn't stop. It had happened so fast, her warmth igniting a blaze in him he didn't want to quench. He thought about Abby all the time, dreamed of her sweet little body and what it would feel like underneath him. Several mornings he'd awakened with a hard-on and knew it was because of her. He'd tried over and over again to remind himself that he had to keep his hands off her, and here he was, all over her the first chance he got. So much for keeping his distance. Yet she tasted so good. So fucking sweet. And God knows, he needed some softness and some sweetness in his life. It had been so long.

"Kiss me back, baby,” he ordered as his hands slid down her body, pressing his aroused hardness into her tender belly, before pulling her up so that his erection rubbed against her heated center. His hands stroked up and down her back curving her more completely against him.

"Let me touch you, Abby,” he murmured as he felt her hesitant response to the increasing demand in his touch. His tongue delved into the moist depths of her mouth, tangling with hers in an erotic duel. He compelled her response with his greater experience. Grinding his hips into her softness, he pressed burning kisses down the side of her neck, to linger over the pulse, which beat against her pale skin. Not giving her a chance to think, his hand slid around and up to caress her swollen breast, rubbing against the tight nipple that rose against her shirt.

Abby moaned in abandon. He shoved her shirt out of the way and yanked down her bra to get at the softness beneath. Her breasts spilled over the lowered cups in silent offering. Then his mouth was covering an aching nipple, and he sucked ravenously, eliciting another moan from her. With his tongue, he circled the swollen mound before moving to the other that he held cupped in his hand, giving it the same attention he had the first.

"Oh, please...” she stammered, unable to control the feelings overwhelming her. “I don't..."

"Please, what?” he asked huskily. “This?” He caught the nipple between his teeth and began a light tugging that arched her against him. His playful tugging became a harder bite, and Abby rolled her hips against the thick cock that bulged aggressively against his jeans. Her hands reached up to clutch at his head, holding his mouth against her heated skin.

"You are so damn responsive. Do you have any idea what that does to a man?” Jack whispered as he kissed his way back up to her mouth, to take her swollen lips again in an aggressive kiss that brooked no denial. His hand reached into her hair and tugged her head back so he could plunder more deeply, controlling her response.

"Yes, you like that don't you?” he asked as she moaned. He could smell her arousal and his hold tightened painfully in her hair. “You're wet for me, aren't you, angel?” His hand smoothed down her belly and beneath the elastic waistband of her shorts, and his fingers sank into the moist heat of her pussy. She let out a broken whimper, and he knew it wouldn't take much to bring her to climax. His mouth met hers again as he sank one long finger into her channel, his thumb stimulating her clit. He pulled out his finger and pushed it in again, and she whimpered. “Yes, baby. God, you're so tight. That's it. That's right. Come for me.” Her pussy spasmed around his finger, and he felt the gush of her orgasm over his hand as she cried out. “Fuck, yeah. That's so sweet."

He pulled his hand out of her pants and reached for his own fly, the slick moisture from her climax making it difficult to undo his button. All he could think of was dragging Abby to the floor and sinking his cock to the hilt in her hot, wet cunt. Thank God Beau had sent her here. He needed her so damn ... Shit. Beau. What the fuck was he doing? This was Beau's aunt, for chrissakes.

He stepped back from Abby, releasing her so abruptly she stumbled and would have fallen if not for the chair behind her. Her eyes blinked at him in bewilderment, and her bare breasts rose and fell in time with her breathing, glistening with the moisture from his mouth. Jack fisted his hand to prevent himself from reaching for her again, but he had to regain control here. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the hell was going on? He had to get away from Abby before he did something they would both regret. If he hadn't already done that.

"Hell, look Abby. I'm sorry about that. I need to get laid, and you were handy. It didn't mean anything.” Jack backed away from Abby, trying to ignore the hurt look on her face at his harsh explanation. Shit.

Blankly she tugged her shirt down over her exposed breasts. “Jack, please don't..."

"Don't worry. It won't happen again.” He cut her off, a bland mask of indifference hardening his features in an attempt to put as much emotional distance between them as he could.

Abby's face paled at his words, but then her chin lifted. “Sure, whatever. It was just the heat of the moment, right?"

"Look, I have to go.” He muttered the words just before he turned and strode toward the door. Pausing in the doorway, he hesitated a moment. “I really am sorry."

Abby stood there frozen, listening to his retreating footsteps and the opening and closing of the front door. She ran her fingers though her hair and tried to figure out what had just happened. She was glad he was gone, she told herself. But then why did she ache so? She stared at the space he had occupied as seconds ticked by. Finally, she pulled herself together. She would not let him hurt her like this. If that's how he wanted things to go, that was fine with her.

She stepped forward and her foot landed on a piece of broken glass.

"Ouch!” A small bead of blood trickled from the spot where she had cut herself, and she walked to the sink to rinse the wound.

When she was done, she cleaned up the rest of the glass, glad to have something to keep her from thinking about what had just occurred with Jack. Lying on the floor by the table was a large manila envelope with her name and address scrawled across the top in her agent's handwriting. Jack must have been bringing her mail to her. Pushing thoughts of Jack out of her head until she felt better prepared to deal with them, she opened the envelope and leafed through the stack of mail until one letter caught her eye. Her eyes zoomed in on the return address ... Scott Davenport. Shit! She set it aside and opened the note from her agent.

Dear Abby,

Here is all the mail that has come in this week. The research information you wanted for the new book is in this batch, and there's also a note from your assistant. I'll forward the next group of letters that come in as soon as possible. Hope the book is going well.

Love,

Tara

Reluctantly, she picked up the letter and turned it over in her hand before tearing it open. As her eyes skimmed the note, she picked out a few phrases: “I must see you as soon as possible...” and “Please, call me. I need to talk to you.” God, the guy was nuts. She shivered in apprehension.

She wondered if she should contact someone, like the cops, but what would she say? A former employee had sent her a couple of creepy letters? No, her best option was just to stay out of Gulf Shores for a while and let everything calm down. She'd see what things were like when she got back to town.

For the next couple of days Abby saw nothing at all of Jack. Each morning, she and Bear went for long walks in the surrounding woods, and during the afternoon, she sat bent over her laptop, hard at work on her book. She was pleased with the way it was coming along. A lot had been accomplished in the short time that she had been here. If she kept going the way she was now, it wouldn't be long before she was finished.

One morning, she was sitting at her computer, the rhythm of the keys steady and swift, when suddenly the lights in the cabin flickered and went out, along with the computer. The battery backup kicked in, so Abby hurriedly saved her work. She walked over to the light switch and flicked it a couple of times, hoping that by some miracle the energy would once again begin flowing. But no such luck.

"Damn,” she muttered, and Bear's head lifted from where it rested on the floor. “Wouldn't you know it? Right in the middle of an important scene.” She knew that she could continue with the battery for a while, but she didn't want to take the chance that the battery would fail, too. Best to go ahead and deal with the problem now.

In the backyard stood a small shed that held the cabin's generator. Flashlight in hand, Abby went inside to peer at the complex piece of machinery from various angles, checking to make sure it had enough gasoline as Jack had told her to do. Finally, she gave the generator a hard kick in what she considered a likely spot.

Although not a very scientific method of repair, nevertheless, it had worked amazing miracles for Abby in the past. Unfortunately, this time—nothing. Not even a little creak. She sighed. There was no hope for it. She would have to go get Jack and let him have a look at it. Before leaving the shed, she gave the generator one more swift kick for good measure. It might not succeed in getting the machine working again, but it sure as hell helped to relieve a little feminine frustration.

Recalling Jack's orders to stay away from his cabin, Abby grimaced, and then shrugged. This was, after all, a legitimate excuse. What else was she supposed to do except go find the owner for some help?

So, with Bear trailing after her, she scouted around for a few minutes and finally located the trail Jack had told her about. As he had warned her, it was overgrown. Abby made her careful way through the dense undergrowth until she emerged in the clearing around Jack's cabin. She straightened her ponytail and wiped the sweat from her forehead. The trek through the woods had been hot and dirty, and she felt bedraggled. Well, at least now it was clearer than it had been before. She'd had to stop several times to move some small limbs from the path, but at least if she had to come this way again it would be much easier.

She had started toward the front door when she heard the sound of a rhythmic pounding that seemed to originate from behind the cabin, so Abby changed her course and headed in that direction. Rounding the side of the building, she halted as she caught sight of her erstwhile landlord. Stripped to the waist, Jack raised an axe above his head and brought it down with a powerful stroke, his muscles bunching and sweat gleaming from his tanned shoulders. He threw the wood onto a growing pile, reached for another, and repeated the action in a steady, practiced rhythm.

Abby stood there mesmerized by the physical perfection of the man before her, forgetting her vow to remain aloof. Beads of moisture stood on his forehead and trickled down his neck and onto the solid wall of his chest, following the light dusting of dark hair that trailed down his hard stomach and disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. The impressive bulge at his crotch had Abby licking her lips in admiration.

As he started to raise the axe again, Bear began barking. Jack turned and spotted her. Abby thought she spotted a gleam of unwilling pleasure lighting up those hypnotic eyes of his before it was veiled behind a wall of aloofness. Projecting an air of confidence she was far from feeling, she stepped forward as he lay down the axe. He picked up his discarded t-shirt to wipe the moisture from his face and watched her approach.

"Hi,” she said, halting a few feet in front of him.

He returned her greeting brusquely. “Morning."

Abby tried to ignore his sullen attitude. “Hot, isn't it? I can see that you're hard at work, though.” She gestured toward the axe.

"Is there something that I can do for you? As you can see, I'm a little busy.” He looked back to where a pile of logs awaited his attention. Okay, Abby mentally shrugged to herself. If he wanted to play the taciturn stranger today, that was his privilege. But she didn't have to go along with it. She would be friendly even it if killed her.

She smiled. “As a matter of fact, there is. That's why I walked over. My electricity went out a little while ago. I think that something must be wrong with the generator, and since I don't know anything about it, I thought that you could have a look."

The suspicious look vanished from his eyes as he swore. “I'll come take a look at it. Just let me pull on a clean shirt. Come on in.” She followed him into the house, admiring the way his jeans hugged his tight buttocks. She could look she told herself; she just couldn't touch.

While Jack was in his room, Abby wandered around, examining the cabin in greater detail. Unlike her own place, which was cluttered with pictures and souvenirs, there was little here to tell her much about Jack. One slim volume of poetry lying on a table caught her eye, and she picked it up. As she opened it, a picture fell out and dropped to the floor. Abby bent to retrieve it and examined the two figures in the snapshot. One was Jack, although his expression had little in common with the habitual grim one he wore now. He looked happy and carefree as he gazed down into the face of the beautiful woman he held in the circle of one arm. As she was leafing through the pages, she noticed the inscription on the inside cover. It read:
"To my darling Jack. All my love forever. Lauren
."

A noise beside her attracted her gaze, and she saw Jack standing there wearing an inscrutable expression. He took the photo from her, studied it briefly, and placed it back inside the book. Abby braced herself for some scathing comment that never came. Instead, he said nothing. He just laid the book back on the table. “Ready?” he asked. Abby nodded uncertainly and followed him as he turned to exit the cabin.

While Jack worked on the generator, Abby sat on the back steps stroking Bear and wondering who this Lauren person was. Abby could tell from the photograph that he had cared for her. Was she a girlfriend? Fiancée? Wife? Mentally she shrugged, knowing the idle speculation was pointless yet unable to stop herself from wanting to know more about him. Every time she saw him, she was aware of a deepening interest. Right or wrong, she couldn't seem to control her thoughts when they began to stray in his direction.

Recalling the way she had been in Jack's arms, she felt an ache growing between her thighs. She wondered what it would be like to have every inch of him against her without the barrier of their clothing. The men, boys really, she had been with before had been more friends than lovers. They had inspired no more in her than a feeling of tenderness.