Nerd In Shining Armor Part 6

But she'd been right. Swimming this way was hard, much harder than he'd imagined when he'd suggested it a while ago. If she hadn't pushed herself to go as far as she had, they might have both gone down. As it was he had to call on every ounce of endurance he had to keep swimming.

His soggy clothes felt like the lead ap.r.o.n his dentist laid over him before she took X rays. Good thing he'd ditched his shoes long ago, and per usual, he'd forgotten socks in the process of getting dressed. That seemed years ago. He stopped to test the bottom with a foot, only to discover it was still over his head.

The third time he lowered his foot, his toe touched sand. With a choked sob of grat.i.tude, he stood in chest-deep water and cradled Genevieve in his arms. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing. That was all that mattered right now.

He focused on the beach as he started walking through the water. Breaking surf threatened to knock him over. He clenched his jaw and clutched Genevieve tighter, not about to fall down, not about to lose her.

"We ... made it?"

At the faint sound of her voice, he looked down and saw that her eyes were open, but she looked dazed and disoriented. "We made it," he said, his voice hoa.r.s.e.

She closed her eyes again. "Thank you . . . Jack."

Jack. He'd never encouraged the nickname because he thought it sounded like a kind of guy who drove fast cars and hung out with glamorous women, the kind of guy who drank whiskey straight up and never let work interfere with pleasure. The kind of guy Jackson wasn't.

But he'd just successfully flown a plane, ditched it in the ocean, and managed to get himself and his lovely pa.s.senger safely to sh.o.r.e. The nickname Jack didn't sound quite so inappropriate after all that. If Genevieve wanted to call him Jack, then he'd let her do that.

"You're welcome," he said. About that time he reached the point where the water no longer supported her weight, and he nearly dropped her.

She opened her eyes again and turned her head to look at the waterline only a short distance away. Her voice was unsteady. "You can put me down now. I can walk the rest of the way."

"I'll carry you in." At least he wanted to try. Somebody named Jack would definitely do that.

She looked up at him. "You're panting. You're fixin' to drop me."

"I am not." He noticed that her Tennessee accent was even more p.r.o.nounced, as if the deeper they got into this mess, the more she was reverting to the little hillbilly she once was. He loved watching it happen, because it made her more accessible.

"Jackson, put me down."

"The name's Jack, and I'm finis.h.i.+ng this rescue the way I want to."

"Your name's Jack?"

"Yeah. You called me that a minute ago, and I've decided I like it."

"I probably called you that because I was too exhausted to say your whole blessed name."

He was disappointed to discover that had been the reason, but there was no backing down from the new name now. He felt like a different person, and he might as well be called something different, too. "Be that as it may, I'm going to be Jack from now on." He couldn't feel his arms anymore, but he only had a little way to go.

"All right, Jack it is then. Now put me-"

He stumbled, she screeched, and they landed in a pile at the edge of the water. She came down on her back, her arms flung out to the side, and he ended up on his stomach with his cheek resting on her right breast, his right arm across her stomach and his leg on hers. Neither of them moved as the water ebbed and flowed over their feet.

"I knew it," she said. "I knew you were fixin' to drop me."

He felt boneless, as if he couldn't change positions if his life depended on it. At least this time it didn't. He wasn't sure if his catatonic state had to do with his absolute, total exhaustion or the miracle of pillowing his head on her breast.

By sheer luck the jacket to the dress had flipped back when she went down, so he had only one thin layer of soaked fabric between him and a part of Gen's anatomy he'd never expected to experience up close and personal. As her chest rose and fell with her breathing, he became convinced she was not wearing a bra.

"I wonder what we should do next," she asked.

"Think," he murmured. Thinking wouldn't require him to go anywhere, and he liked where he'd ended up.

"I wonder how long before they come looking for us."

"They might have started already." He knew they needed to be rescued, but he hoped it would take a few hours. "Depends on how soon the Maui folks called Matt to ask why we haven't shown up."

She lay quietly, just breathing.

He was very happy to have her do that. Eventually she might ask him to move, but until she did, he was staying put.

"You know what I think?" she asked.

"What?"

"I'll bet Nick didn't have a meeting definitely set up, after all. I'll bet he said he might make it over there, and he might not. That way more time could go by before anyone would ask about us. But I did tell my mama I'd call her when I got there. She might think I just forgot, though."

"Well, what about my meeting with Aloha? Won't they call and ask why I'm not there?"

"I don't want you to take this wrong, but they might not call." And then, unbelievably, she began to stroke his wet hair.

He couldn't take anything wrong while she did that. He closed his eyes and reveled in it, afraid to say a word for fear she'd stop.

"See, you're taking it wrong. Now I've insulted you." She continued to finger-comb his hair. "But you have to admit that you're not the most reliable person when it comes to getting to places on time. Everybody knows that."

"I get distracted."

"I know."

As she continued her gentle caress, he began to wonder if he'd saved them after all. Maybe they'd died in the crash and all of this was taking place in heaven. He could be convinced of that. He could easily be convinced.

"But you weren't distracted today, when we were up against it and trouble was coming at us six ways to Sunday. You focused on what had to be done and you purely did it. I owe you my life, Jack."

"'S okay." Now, there was a brilliant response. Sure could tell he was a magna c.u.m laude with verbal skills like that. But he would trade all his degrees and half his IQ for a kiss from the woman who was touching him so sweetly. He wondered if she'd consider a kiss in return for him saving her life.

"Jack, do you have a crush on me?"

His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He wished to h.e.l.l she hadn't phrased it like that. A crush sounded like high school. And yet, come to think of it, he had acted like a high school kid with her, hanging around hoping for a little of her time, dreaming of her but never working up the courage to ask her out.

Even now, he was lying here afraid to move because she might stop petting him, like some grateful dog who would do anything for a little kindness. A guy named Jackson would behave like that, but not a guy called Jack.

"You're not saying anything, so I'll take that to mean yes. And I want you to know that I think that's very sweet, but-"

"I don't have a crush on you."

"Oh." She stopped stroking his hair.

Summoning what little strength he had left, he propped himself up and gazed down at her. Her usually glossy hair was a tangled mess, and the ocean had washed off every bit of her makeup. But her eyes were still that blue-green color that reminded him of a tropical lagoon picture he'd used once as a screen saver. He'd loved the color of the water in that screen saver.

As mesmerizing as her eyes were, though, he couldn't help noticing that her dress was nearly transparent. He tried to keep his gaze focused on her face, but there were her nipples, showing through the material. It was probably the dampness that made them stick up like that.

He wondered what she'd do if he cupped her breast and rubbed a thumb over her nipple. But he wouldn't do that without knowing she wanted him to. Besides, although he loved looking at her and imagining making love right here in the sand, he wasn't certain he had the energy at the moment.

"A crush is for kids, Gen," he said.

She watched him with a wary look in her eyes. "Did I make you mad, saying that?"

"No."

" 'Cause you look kind of like Uncle Rufus's bull when we'd pull his tail and get him riled up."

n.o.body had ever described him that way, and he thought it sounded good. Intimidating. s.e.xy. "I just need you to remember that I'm not a kid."

"I didn't mean you were a kid. I just wondered if you felt something for me."

"I do."

"That's what I th-"

"And it's not a crush," he said, cutting her off. "Let me demonstrate what I mean." A guy named Jack would be at least this bold. He quickly lowered his head and settled his mouth over hers.

She gasped in surprise, but he kept on kissing her. She tasted like salt.w.a.ter taffy, and at first she was just about as stiff. But he hung on to the image of her lips as a candy treat, and sure enough, they began to soften.

Although he found that encouraging, he didn't for one minute think that he was turning her on. After the first shock of realizing that he was kissing her, she'd probably decided to be nice. After all, she thought she owed him her life. He'd probably get this one chance to kiss her, and then it would be business as usual. He'd only be able to work this hero thing for a little while.

She might not get a whole lot out of this moment, but he intended to milk it for all it was worth. He s.h.i.+fted his angle slightly and got a little more intimate with that warm mouth of hers. Her breath caught again. She obviously hadn't expected him to get serious about this.

He was very serious. He'd been fantasizing this kiss for months, and he'd d.a.m.n near had to kill himself to get it. At a time like this, a guy named Jack would get tongues involved. So he did.

To his surprise, she let him get away with that. After a very short while, she even began to partic.i.p.ate. She must feel really grateful. He wasn't about to look a gift kiss in the mouth, so he settled in for more fun and games. He explored and tasted to his heart's content, and the more he did that, the more content his heart became.

The rest of him was feeling pretty darned delighted, too. His cuts didn't sting anymore and his muscles were springing back to life. And oh, yeah, he wished he'd stowed his gla.s.ses in a different spot. The earpiece was digging into his expanding p.e.n.i.s.

He kept expecting her to pull away, but instead she became more enthusiastic with each pa.s.sing second. Maybe it was more than grat.i.tude. Maybe the near-death experience had made her want to live for the moment, and for the moment, he was handy. That worked for him. Normally he wasn't very skilled at being at the right place at the right time, but today he was golden.

By now they were both breathing hard, and he thought of a scene from an old movie his grandma loved, where the couple got jiggy on the beach in the surf. From Here to Eternity. That was a sentiment he could relate to, kissing Gen this way.

He was so engrossed in the hot, wet taste of her mouth that he nearly missed the fact that she'd arched her back. When he finally received the message she was sending, he nearly pa.s.sed out from excitement. She wanted him to touch her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

His hand was all sandy, but he wasn't going to reach under her dress, anyway. That would be pus.h.i.+ng his luck and potentially ruining his future chances, especially if he sandpapered her soft skin. That's when he remembered that he'd probably already rubbed her face raw with his beard. Instantly he lifted his mouth away from hers. "I'm sorry," he said, panting hard. "I forgot about my beard. I-"

With a moan she grabbed his head and pulled it down again.

Okay I She didn't care about his beard! She didn't care about anything but going for it! A moment didn't get any better than this. Well, it would be a lot better if he hadn't tucked his gla.s.ses in his underwear. He hoped he didn't poke out a lens, but he couldn't worry about that now.

Once he cupped her breast, he had absolutely no worries. Not a single one. Kissing and squeezing, kissing and squeezing. He could keep it up forever, especially when she moaned like that. She had some s.e.xy moan. If he could program it into the sound card of his computer, he'd stay permanently aroused.

Her kiss became more feverish, and he wondered if she was losing touch with reality and forgetting who she was kissing. Probably. In that case, he might be able to try ... anything.

His heart hammered at the idea. But he wasn't quite beyond reason. That might be one of his failings, that he never let himself go, not completely. Someday he might curse himself for not taking full advantage of this situation. But he wasn't going to.

Knowing that, he figured he'd better ease up on the kiss. A guy could be n.o.ble for only so long, listening to a woman moan the way Gen was moaning. He changed from full mouth contact to tiny nibbles, and at last, he lifted his head and took his hand, very reluctantly, from her breast.

Slowly she sank back to the damp sand, her eyes closed. He watched her, waiting to see what would happen when she opened those eyes. He had some time to study her face, and sure enough, his beard had given her a case of whisker burn. He wasn't proud of that.

More time went by, and she still hadn't dared to open her eyes, but her cheeks were now an even deeper color, and it wasn't all from whisker burn. She was blus.h.i.+ng.

Finally he couldn't stand it any longer. "Gen?"

"I can't believe I let you do that."

So she regretted giving him liberties. He shouldn't be surprised, shouldn't even be disappointed, but he was. "Look, n.o.body ever has to know. You can trust me."

She opened her eyes. "I know I can. But it's your opinion that I'm worried about."

"My opinion of you hasn't changed." That wasn't exactly true. He'd always wondered whether she'd be cool and sophisticated in bed. Not from this new information.

Too bad this was the first and last time he'd get a glimpse of her pa.s.sion potential. It had been exciting while it lasted.

"I'll bet you're just saying that to make me feel better. I've acted like a ... like a tramp."

He decided they both needed to lighten up. "Boy, you sure know how to hurt a guy. I thought it was my manly s.e.x appeal that caused all this."

"You do have manly s.e.x appeal, Jackson." She seemed quite amazed by the discovery.

"Jack." He'd hold onto that, at least.

"Okay, Jack. I never would have thought so, but with your beard, and-"

"It was rough on your face. I'm sorry about that."

"The beard made all the difference. When you kissed me I felt like a maiden captured by a pirate, a maiden who had been flung down on the sand and . . . well, you know what I mean."

"Ravished?" He liked the sound of that. He'd never been accused of ravis.h.i.+ng anyone before.

"I guess ravished would be the word. I think what we went through today knocked me off-center, and I plumb forgot who you were."

Ouch. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, me, too." Like he'd ever forget who she was. "Anyway, I enjoyed myself, and I ... hope you did."

"I did, too, Jack."

He gazed down at her and wished they could do it all again. But they probably wouldn't, because now she'd come to her senses.

"And I want to thank you."

"For?"

"For ... for everything. I couldn't have asked for a better person to be stranded with than you. You've been wonderful."