Page 34 of The Sandover Beach Billionaire

That was the permission he needed. His mouth found hers in the dark, strong and firm and full of passion. Jenna sighed against his lips and moved with him. She poured out her apologies into the kiss, as well as the feelings for him that she had denied, both then and now. In answer she felt Jackson make his own apologies and promises. It was both fervent and tender, carrying with it what felt like years of passion. Jackson’s lips drew her to follow as they slid over her mouth.

It was the best kiss of her life. She had never felt such adoration and love in a kiss before. But that wasn’t right—Jackson couldn’t love her. The thought almost shocked her out of the moment, but she sank right back into the bliss of the moment as his kisses turned featherlight and teasing.

Maybe not love—not yet. But an intensity brewed where their skin met. This felt like something sure and trustworthy. Something much bigger and more significant than a crush or some stolen moment. Jackson’s kisses felt like he was making declarations and vows. A surge of hope filled her as she knit her fingers into his hair, tugging gently until he made a small moan and pulled away.

“Do you hear that?” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

Did he mean her heart? It had never been so loud as it was in her ears. But could he really hear it? Maybe he meant her breathing, which sounded embarrassingly like she had just been sprinting.

But then she heard the keening cry of a siren, growing louder. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes. That would be the fire department.”

“This is going to be really embarrassing, isn’t it?”

“Considering that I’m good friends with most of the guys, yes. And, given the way Sandover gossip spreads like wildfire, even more so. Have you ever been in the Island paper? I have, and it’s delightful.”

“Stop it. This isn’t news.”

Jackson laughed. “You’ve been Off Island too long. This is huge news. Huge. Everyone will know about this by the end of today.”

Jenna knew that he meant getting stuck in the elevator, not the kiss. But she suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of fear. Had kissing Jackson been a terrible idea? What did it mean? What would happen when they got out and didn’t have the darkness to hide behind?

Jackson ran a hand down her cheek and Jenna was suddenly aware of how slick her skin was with sweat. He must think she was disgusting.

She stepped back slightly as the sirens came to a stop. Everything—the heat, the kiss, the thoughts now racing through her head—overwhelmed her. Nausea rose in her stomach and her teeth were inexplicably chattering even as she realized that the heat had become almost unbearable. Her face was completely slick with sweat and her shirt stuck to her back in an unflattering way.

Jackson noticed and ran his hands up and down her arms. They too were sweaty and she pulled away from him, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

“Hey, are you okay? Are your teeth chattering? You can’t be cold.”

“I think I’m just … emotional. Or something. I don’t feel very good. But at least I forgot for a bit that I was scared. You did a good job with distraction.”

There was a pause. In it, Jenna was suddenly aware of male voices and footsteps on the stairs inside the house.

“Did you think this was just about distracting you?” Jackson asked.

Jenna reached up, feeling for his face and touched it lightly with her fingertips. It was too hot to cup his face between her palms. She swallowed and tried to channel the bravery that came from being in the dark. For once, she wanted to say the right words to Jackson. “You misunderstood me. I wasn’t trying to cheapen it. That was the most treasured I have felt in I don’t know how many years. Maybe forever.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry. Not for the kiss, but for my brief moment of panic just now when I thought maybe you thought I was taking advantage of you in the moment or something.”

“What? No! Maybe we need to have more conversations and say the real things we’re feeling. We don’t seem to be very good at that. At least, I’m not.”

“I’m all for more conversations. Lots of them. And more … distractions.”

“But maybe when we aren’t so sweaty? I feel disgusting. And light-headed.”

Jenna sensed Jackson leaning toward her when there was a rattle and a clacking sound at the door. Light flooded the elevator. Jenna jumped away from Jackson, her back hitting the wall. She looked toward the opening as a grinning face appeared.

“Well, if it isn’t my best friend and my old babysitter. This sounds like the beginning of a joke. Yikes—that heat is no joke. How are you two doing in there?”

“Beau?” Jenna had been friends with Beau’s older sister, Hope. She remembered him as a mischievous blond boy who was always kicking around a soccer ball. He had been about ten years younger: a surprise baby for Hope’s parents when she was almost in middle school. Same smile and the blond hair, but older. And he looked massively built, even from the little she could see of him.

“You remember me? That’s good. I’m glad I made a lasting impression.”

“I remember you as being trouble.”

“Looks like the tables have turned, doesn’t it?”

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