by Jamie Begley
Taking two steps, she reached for the phone, conscious of Gavin coming through the door.
“I’m afraid to answer it,” she admitted.
“I can.”
Ginny shook her head. “Hello?”
“Allerton scheduled a meeting for this afternoon at four,” Agent Collins informed her.
“We’ll be ready.”
Hanging up without any pleasantries, she turned to Gavin. “Allerton wants to see us at four.”
“Lunch ready?”
“Yes, it’s in the microwave. You’re not worried?” she asked at his apparent indifference.
Gavin took the containers out, dividing the food between the two plates. “I would be lying if I said no, but we’ll deal with whatever happens.”
Ginny took a seat at the table to join Gavin, who’d already started eating. “Maybe I should go alone—”
“That’s not going to happen.” Gavin took another bite of his shrimp scampi before pushing his plate toward her. “Go ahead and eat it. It’s good. Best thing we’ve had so far.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Eat. Let me do the worrying.”
“That’s not going to happen,” she mimicked him.
Gavin took another forkful of scampi. “You want to fuck, then?”
Her mouth dropped open. “No.”
“It would take your mind off worrying,” he suggested. “It’s a good way to relax.”
Picking up her fork, she stabbed a big fat shrimp. “I take it you’ve used that relax technique before.”
“A time or two.” Loading up his fork, he ate, unconcerned about her heated glare. “You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I’m relaxed enough. If you feel the need, have at it on your lonesome. I’ll watch.”
His interest was piqued. “You’d watch?”
She almost choked on the shrimp at his dirty expression. Ginny had to drink a sip of water before she could get the damn thing down her throat. “I was joking.”
“Have you ever watched a man jerk off?”
“No, and I don’t want to,” she managed to strangle out.
Gavin placed both elbows on the table to give her a lust-filled, come-hither smile. “Don’t knock it before you try it.”
“I’ll pass.” Ginny picked up her linen napkin to fan herself.
“The Last Riders and I assumed you didn’t know about the rules of the club, but you do. Killyama told you, didn’t she?”
Ginny bounced off her chair as if it were on fire with the embarrassing turn in the conversation. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. You can have the rest of my food. I’m going to take a shower.”
“Ginny.”
Freezing at the authoritative manner he spoke her name, Ginny regretted letting her smart aleck mouth get her in trouble.
“Yes?” Widening her eyes, she tried to bluff the way Silas had taught her.
Gavin wasn’t fooled by her playing stupid. Linking his fingers together, he stared at her. “We were discussing what else Killyama told you.”
“I wouldn’t call it a discussion,” she corrected him. “And for your information, Killyama has never mentioned the rules of the club. Satisfied?”
“Not hardly. Who told you then? T.A. or Sex Piston?”
“No one, okay? Jeez, what got us on this topic anyway?”
“You’re lying.”
Ginny pulled her shoulders back, affronted. “I am not. I would never lie to you.”
“Very well.” Gavin dropped his hands and began eating again.
Thinking she was going to get away scot-free, Ginny tried to make her escape again.
“Would you like me to tell you the rules?”
Gritting her teeth, Ginny knew there was no way in hell she was going to be able to listen to Gavin tell her the rules of the club and be able to keep up pretenses. “That’s okay. Where is the time going?” she asked inanely. “I better get a move on.”
“It’s only two o’clock.”
“If I’m going to die, I want to look nice.”
He didn’t appreciate her attempt at humor.
Forestalling him from continuing to talk about the club rules, Ginny began backing out of the room.
“Go ahead. We can talk about this later—”
“Fine with me,” she said, not realizing he wasn’t done with his sentence.
“—tonight,” he finished.
Damn, when Gavin got on a roll, he could beat a dead horse to death. How had she never noticed that before?
“Fine!” she snapped. Allerton was probably going to kill her, so it wouldn’t matter anyway.
“I’m not going to let Allerton kill you.” Reaching for her plate, he began wolfing down her leftovers.
“I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“Well, you did. My offer to relax you is still open, by the way.”
“I’ll pass.”
Belatedly, a light bulb went off in her head as to why she didn’t want to discuss what went on in the club and why she was backing away.
The sexual magnetism emanating from Gavin had her scenting danger. Sexual energy was pouring off him in spades, winding around her like an imaginary rope drawing her back toward him.
Ginny grabbed the doorjamb, feeling ridiculous while, at the same time, wanting to go to back to the table and lick every inch of his body. She’d been attracted to Gavin since she first set eyes on him. The man was undeniably eye candy.
Something had been imperceptibly changing—or returning?—so slowly, and it had gone unnoticed until it was practically hitting her in the face. Analyzing the change, Ginny took a few seconds to recognize what it was. Then clarity struck.
His sexuality, which had been traumatized during his captivity, was remerging. Jeez, the man was like dynamite without a freaking fuse, and what would be worse was Gavin figuring it out. He’d be unstoppable where women were concerned … Hell, anyone with two legs and a …
Ginny turned tail and ran like a scalded cat.
She took off her clothes, then turned the shower on before she even took her bra off. Slinging her bra to the floor, Ginny stepped into the shower and snapped the door closed.
Letting the spray dampen her hair, she placed her hands on shower wall, letting the cold water cool her down. The sexual hunger she had just experienced had taken her by surprise. Gavin never had a problem getting a response when he touched her, but him being capable of making her wet just by staring at her was a shock to her system.
She jerked her head to the side at the sound of the shower door opening and closing, and reflexively lifted the washcloth to hide her breasts. “What are you doing?”
“Taking a shower with you. There’s no need wasting water.”
Keeping the washcloth in place, Ginny freed one hand to attempt to shove him out. “I wanted some privacy.”
Grabbing her hand, Gavin moved her so she was standing in front of him. “What’s the big deal? We’ve showered together before.”
“The big deal is I wanted to be alone.”
“Cool. Just ignore me.” Taking the washcloth away from her, he squirted body wash over her breasts.
“Excuse me …” Turning around, she tried to take the washcloth back. “How am I supposed to ignore you when you’re doing that and … are poking me with that?”
“Ignore it. I am.”
“You’re just going to ignore it?”
“Yup.”
Ginny scowled at the big buffoon as he smoothed the cloth over the body wash, creating a slick foam.
“It’s not a big deal.” Sliding to her other breast, he used his body to force her backward against the wall.
“It is a big deal.” Ginny tried to twist her pelvis to the side. “You’re drilling a hole into my stomach.”
Gavin lowered his mouth to her neck. “I’d rather drill a hole somewhere else.”
Trying to swat his dick away, they ended up tussling in the shower; Ginny lost the battle when Gavin lifte
d her up, and afraid he would drop her, she wound her thighs around his hips.
“I’m not in the mood.”
“Then why are your little nipples cold?’
“The water’s cold,” she snapped, managing to get the washcloth away from him, then buried his face in it. “You had a spot of gravy on your beard. I took care of it for you,” she told him, trying to scrub his face off.
“You can be a vicious little thing when you want to be.”
“And you can be a hound dog when you want to be.” Glaring at him, she smacked him with the washcloth. “There, I missed another spot!”
Ripping the washcloth away from her, he tossed it over the shower stall. “I’m not a hound dog. They go after any pussy available. I know which one I’m after.” He rubbed the head of his dick suggestively between the cleft of her thighs.
“You used to be, didn’t you?” she bit out between gritted teeth, fighting the rush of warmth the cool water wasn’t helping quell.
“Of course not. I’ve always been a one-woman man.”
Ginny stared at him suspiciously. “Seriously?”
“Would I lie to you?”
Doubts surfaced, but Ginny took his word for it. Why would he lie? She stopped her struggles, thinking she had made a mountain out of a molehill. Maybe her nerves were just getting the better of her and she’d overreacted.
“Did that make your mood better?” He grinned, flexing his hips toward her again.
“I’m getting there.”
Sliding his wet hair away from his face, Ginny scanned his innocent-looking face for any sign of deceit. “You’re too sexy for your own good.”
“Who wants to be good”—slipping the head of his dick easily inside of her opening, he traced her earlobe with his tongue—“when it’s more fun to be bad?”
Gavin took control of her senses with each plunge of his cock, smashing through her uncertainty as if using a magic wand. Raspy sighs came from both of them as a passionate haze surrounded them.
She scored her fingernails through Gavin’s hair to go his shoulders, down his back, wanting to leave her mark on every part of his body. She wanted the experience of them having sex to erase every woman he had touched from his memory. Better yet, she wanted to make him useless to any woman who came within his vicinity.
Giving every ounce of her to him, she clasped her thighs tighter and started bouncing on his dick, making him go faster. Gavin had to place a hand on the shower wall to prevent them from slipping on the slick floor.
His harsh breaths echoed louder as she demanded more of him. Using the showerhead, she lifted herself higher to slam herself down on his thrusting dick, inadvertently hitting the magic spot that sent them down a whirlpool of desire.
Arms shaking, Gavin set her back to her feet. “Damn, woman, you need to relax more often,” he teased, removing his hand from her butt cheek to reach down and snag the sodden hand towel from the floor.
Appreciatively watching the supple muscles in his back, Ginny twined her arms around his middle, brushing her mouth over his shoulder as he retied the hand towel back on the showerhead. With her fingertips, she smoothed through the curly hairs at the juncture of his thighs.
Gavin caught her hand, moving it higher up his waist. She didn’t try to put it back, knowing very well Gavin had limits, even though she’d given him access to every part of her—body and soul.
“Once this is over, I’ll have plenty time to relax.”
“You’re not going to keep your singing career going?”
“No.” Brushing a last kiss over his shoulder blade, she stepped out of the shower. “I gave my last performance in Nashville.”
“That’s why you thanked the audience. Why not continue what you’re so good at?” he asked, stepping out of the shower and taking the towel she handed him.
“I only sang to draw my stalker out. Since that’s no longer an issue, I don’t have to anymore,” she said matter-of-factly.
“You’re too good to stop.”
“I never wanted to start.”
“You never got over stage fright?”
“I never had stage fright. That was a misapprehension Penny had, which I never corrected.”
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t want to sing,” she explained. “I want to write.”
“You’d rather write songs that could make someone else famous?”
“I never wanted to be famous. I just want people to listen to my words. It doesn’t matter who’s singing them. The important part to me is if my words invoke feelings they will remember. That’s why hit songs have so many covers—the words means something to someone, and they want to put their own spin on it. A good song is never forgotten.”
“So, in essence,” he said slowly, working it out in his head, “they won’t forget you.”
“Yes,” she answered, pleased he got what she was attempting to explain.
“I remembered you, and you were singing someone else’s song.”
“You clung to the words of the song. The feelings it invoked were about Taylor.” Ginny plugged in the hair dryer. “I was the forgettable part of the equation. I always am. I’m going to write a song that no one will forget about me, even if someone else is singing it,” she vowed more to herself than to him.
“Ginny, I didn’t forget you … It was just … you were so young … My mind couldn’t handle thinking about you without feeling dirty. I didn’t want the memory tarnished.”
“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve said to me.” Giving him a brief kiss, she pushed the button on the hair dryer. “Now, shoo … I have to dry my hair and get dressed.”
“In other words, you don’t want to talk about it any longer. That’s a bad habit of yours—running away when things get too uncomfortable.”
Ginny pointed the hair dryer at him. “Hello, pot meet kettle.”
Without a leg to stand where that was concerned, Gavin gave up and went to the bedroom.
She pfft him as he left. Had she finally been able to get one over him? Not that she disagreed. What could she say? He was right on that particular point. It was far easier to run than realize the inevitable. It was a lesson she had learned at three. She had been, and always would be … expendable.
Chapter Seventeen
“Ready?” Reaper looked inquiringly at Ginny when a knock sounded on the bungalow door.
“Yes.”
Expecting Ginny to exhibit more nerves, she seemed unfazed by the upcoming encounter.
His hand was on the doorknob when she touched his arm. “Gavin, at any time, if you think this meeting is going shady, pretend you aren’t feeling well. Tell them you might have the virus.”
“What will you do?”
The nervous woman from all afternoon was gone. Standing before him Ginny held assurance and a quiet confidence that he hoped would carry through the upcoming meeting.
“Come back with you, just like any concerned wife would.”
“You have a sneaky side to you that is very concerning to me.”
He wasn’t taken in by her innocent look. It was the same fucking one Silas had when he fleeced out of every dollar in his wallet when they played poker, and it was the same one she’d had when his earring was missing.
“Don’t be silly. I’m not being sneaky; I’m being prudent. I believe in being prepared.” Releasing his arm, she pasted an unconcerned look on her face, which he didn’t believe for one flipping second.
“I do, too. Ask me sometime how I was kidnapped. No matter how you prepare, some S.O.B. is out there, better prepared than you. Let’s just hope Allerton isn’t that S.O.B. today.”
He opened the door to find Agent Collins impatiently waiting, about to knock again.
“Allerton is waiting,” he said before abruptly heading toward the waiting Moke.
Reaper took her arm protectively as they climbed into the back seat and before they knew it the Moke was parked in a shaded area behind the largest building on the island.
Agent Collins led them to the side of the building, leaving the driver in the vehicle.
Collins having no problem leading them through three hallways before arriving at the elevator confirmed Reaper’s doubts about the agent. Keeping a hand on Ginny’s waist as Agent Collins pressed the call button, he gave Collins a measured look when the agent positioned himself to keep them in sight.
“You didn’t feel the need to bring any of the other agents with you?” he asked, watching his reaction.
“Unfortunately, one of the men took ill four days ago. In lieu of caution, we determined their isolation be extended.”
“You didn’t feel the need to extend the caution to yourself?” Reaper asked as they entered the elevator.
Pressing the elevator button, the door closed. “I had a separate bungalow. I let the other two men handle the shifts, watching your bungalow during the day and evening. I took the night shift. My contact with them was over the phone.”
“Which agent became ill?”
“Agent Clark.”
“I hope he gets better soon,” Ginny spoke up, breaking the stare down that Reaper and Agent Collins had been engaged in.
“I’ll extend your well wishes.”
The elevator doors opened to reveal a waiting room with a mock waterfall cascading down one wall. A man Gavin’s age rose from behind a desk to greet them.
“Agent Collins, Mr. and Mrs. James, I’m Ethan. It’s a pleasure meeting you.” He motioned them toward two oversized doors. “Mr. Allerton is waiting for your arrival. May I get you a drink?”
“No, Thank-you,” Ginny refused politely.
Reaper propelled her forward before she was given the opportunity to give the attractive assistant a smile. Disregarding her glare at his rude behavior, they accompanied Agent Collins through the double doors.
Unlike his secretary, Gabriel Allerton remained seated. “Please, come in and have a seat.”
Reaper didn’t sit, and instead chose to stand behind Ginny with his hands proprietorially on her shoulders.
As the distinguished man stared at him from over his desk, Reaper didn’t flinch from the condescending gaze that assessed his casual appearance before nodding toward Collins.
“Agent Collins, I trust your stay has been enjoyable?”
