“Look at me, Legs.” He pulls my chin to face him. I shake my head. Leaning his forehead into mine, he says, “Claire? Look at me.”
Typically a command from anyone would set my teeth on end, but from Jackson, I melt and acquiesce to his demand.
“That was THE most stunning thing I have ever seen. What were you thinking about while you were touching your pussy?”
“Jackson, language!”
“Baby, I just had my mouth, fingers, and cock inside of that sweet haven. What you need to learn, and right quick, is that what happens between us is a miracle. It’s two people loving one another and giving the other their body.”
“You love me?”
“Christ, woman, that’s what you got from that?”
At my nod, he says, while looking me directly in the eyes, “Yes, Claire Amelia McEvoy, I love you. Have since you were fifteen years old.”
I look away from Jackson’s eyes, the emotion behind them tell me that every word he has spoken is true. Every emotion that he evokes within me is God’s way of giving me all that I desire. Someone just for me, a friend, lover, companion, and champion, all in one human being.
All at once, my heart let’s go of all of the anger, hate, disappointment and loneliness that it has been holding onto for more years than I’m willing to admit. The joy that envelopes me is warm, safe, and feels amazing. It feels like Jackson wrapping me in his strong arms and never letting go.
Looking into the eyes of the man I love, yes love, I guide his hot, hard cock deep inside of my pulsing, wet channel without any reservations. It is as Jackson bottoms out deep inside me that I moan, “I love you, Jackson. God, I love you so much.”
“I know Legs.” Thrusting deep and hard inside of me, he groans in pleasure. “I know. Thank God for that because I’m never letting you go.”
Unlike earlier, this time Jackson’s and my joining is patient and loving. Rocking in and out, in and out of my core. Both of our passions rising with each inward push and intensifying with every withdrawal. My juices flooding both his cock and my inner thighs. Pushing into me one, two, three more times.
“Come for me, Legs, now!” And with one more inward thrust, we both come, together, in unison, and it is spiritual.
Jackson
LATER THAT MORNING, after I ran to my house to pick up Legs, and Claire and I played for a few more hours, we find ourselves famished and scavenging the refrigerator for sustenance. My very staid Claire surprises me and drinks directly out of the OJ container, and I giggle like a girl at the sight.
“What?” She places the container on the counter, and turns to me with an OJ mustache. And I laugh even harder. “Jackson!”
I run a finger over the juice stache and place it into my mouth. I suck and groan as Claire’s taste still lingers. It’s my aphrodisiac. I stuff a piece of cold pork loin into my mouth and tell myself to calm down.
“I love you. Every part of you.” Leaning in, I kiss Claire and wobble because this woman makes me weak in the knees.
“That’s only because I feed you, Jackson.”
The offending envelope from last night catches my eye. “Claire, you want to talk about that?” I nod toward it.
“Not particularly.” She walks away from me and out the back door.
“Claire?” Picking up the letter, I follow suit.
“Jackson!”
She’s exasperated and moving further into the backyard.
“God damn it, woman. Stop fucking running!”
Turning on her heel and barreling toward me, Claire is in my face faster than I would have thought. Snatching the envelope out of my hand, she waves it in my face. “You want to talk about this? Well I don’t.” Waving it again, she proceeds to rant, “I don’t want to talk about this, Jack! I want to burn it to the fucking ground. Because whatever is inside, I don’t care. I. DON’T. CARE. Do you hear me? This fucking piece of paper means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing!”
At a loss for words, I go to grab the woman that I love. But Claire is no longer that person. She’s pain, anger, frustration, alienation and fear. “Baby?”
“Don’t you fucking ‘baby’ me! What a crock of shit, Jackson. I let it go, I don’t NEED to know what is inside this letter. It doesn’t matter to my life. This letter”—she shakes it in my face—“is Mac’s way of getting the final word in, of winning! Well you know what? I fucking won already. I survived. My girls survived and we are on the other side of all this bullshit anger and hate. We’re still standing.” A defeated sigh leaks out of Claire. She places her hands on my chest and breathes in. Looking up at me with imploring eyes, she says, “Please, Jackson. Please. Let it go. We could burn this and I’d be fine. I don’t need to know what’s inside. Because finally, FINALLY, I’m enough for me.”
Claire
AFTER MY TANTRUM, Jackson walked away from me. I know that he’ll be back, he left Legs here. I’m still out on the back deck, and honestly I’m freezing. When I hear Zoey’s voice from the house I begin to stir from the shock of Jackson’s abrupt departure.
“Claire? Bear? Where are you?”
I walk into the house and Zoey gasps. I must look like the walking wounded.
“He must really love you if you’re walking around looking like that.”
Looking at the first love of my life, I say, “You can leave now, thank you very much.”
“Grow up, Claire-bear. I was fucking shopping, had an amazing pair of Carl Lagerfeld sandals in my hands, when Jack called me, and said that you needed your girls. Now that bitch that was hawking me throughout the store is the proud owner of my shoes! MY shoes Claire. This is major.”
Just as Zoey finishes up letting me know about the fucking pair of shoes she lost, my front door slams against the wall. “I’m here! You didn’t start without me did you?” Suzie says, rushing into the kitchen.
Reaching my limit, I walk over and grab the Western Son Vodka from the counter. “Don’t you all have husbands and children? Go home!”
I receive a unified no from the peanut gallery as I pull a rocks glass from the shelf.
Both Zoey and Suzie are talking over one another as I continue to make myself a drink. Hey, it’s five o’clock somewhere. I continue and ignore the clattering hens.
“Claire? Are you listening to me?”
Finally looking over at my sister, I say, “No.” And proceed to walk back outside with my bevie in hand.
It has not failed my attention that the only one of my girls that isn’t here is Sasha. Sitting down on a chair, I mumble to myself, “That would require her to answer her phone and care.”
“Momma? Jack called. Said you needed your girls.” Sasha’s voice comes from inside the house.
Cue the water works. My baby did show up.
Claire
AFTER EXPLAINING WHY Jackson felt the need to call in the troops, everyone has an opinion. And like assholes, they stink!
“Well let’s burn it then,” Suzie responds.
“Fuck that, let’s read it!” Zoey says.
“Fuck it. Let’s shred it and then burn the fucker.” Sasha suggests.
“Sash! Language!”
“Seriously? I’m just verbalizing what you’re thinking.” Sasha gets up, grabs some kindling, and walks down the deck and over to the fire pit that sits to the right of the house.
Seeing my child defend my choices amazes me. Sasha amazes me. This precious soul and I grew up together, and she is me! All sass, brass, and balls to the walls. No bullshit and all fuck you, thank you very much!
Dumping the kindling into the pit, she grabs a lighter from her back pocket and proceeds to light a fire. Dumping way too much lighter fluid onto the wood.
Suzie pipes in and says, “Sasha. I think that might be too much.”
The whoosh of flame erupting from the pit buries the rest of Suzie’s statement, knocks Sasha back on her ass, and has Zoey laughing her ass off. I’m up and out of my chair and down the steps just as Sasha is picking herself up off th
e ground. “Sasha? Sash? Baby? You okay?”
Dusting dirt off of her designer jeans, which I know I didn’t pay for, she says, “I’m good.”
I look at my child, making sure that she is indeed okay, and the bubbles of laughter filter up, causing me to snort.
Stomping her foot, Sasha yells, “It’s not funny! I think I melted my eyebrows off!”
“Yes, baby, I think you did too.” I say, falling to my knees and laughing even harder.
MY GIRLS AND I are all sitting around the fire pit, that I dug myself, just talking about babies, men, sex and life in general when Ben, Derrick, and Jackson walk through the back gate.
“If y’all are here, who has the kids?” I ask.
“Suz’s mom.” Ben says as though it’s obvious, and he and Derrick break off and go to their wives. Jackson stops to kiss Sasha on the forehead, mentions something about her eyebrows that has me laughing again, and strides over to me and kisses me breathless.
As always with Jackson, I melt. Finally coming back to reality, I push him away and look around at my family. Every eye, all five pairs, are on Jackson and me. “What,” I say defensively.
Zoey leans over from her chair and grabs my hand. “I’ve never seen you this happy. I like it.”
Uncomfortable with the attention, I huff out, “Why are you all here?”
“Because we have a Nordic burial that needs to take place.”
“Derrick, you’re an idiot. Nordic burials take place on the water.”
“Yes, I’m fully aware of that, Claire. But they also involve fire, and we have one hell of a fire going. Ask Sasha, she was kissed by it. I guess now we basically have two burials tonight.” He snickers.
Rolling my eyes at the group in general, I start to rise up out of the chair I have been sitting in. “Y’all have lost your minds. You need to go home.”
“I kind of like the idea, Mom.” Sasha’s voice stops me.
“Me too. I think that it could be good for you,” comes from Jackson.
“If it will bring you peace, Claire. Go for it.” Is Ben’s opinion.
I look over at my sister, who has remained unusually quiet for her. “Zoey? What do you think?”
Opening then closing her mouth, Zoey imitates a guppy once, twice, three more times, before she takes a deep breath and pushes on. “I think that you need to find closure for yourself. One that works for you. You’ve been angry for so long, Claire. All I want is for you to find the peace that you deserve.”
“Thank you. And you’re right. I have been angry for a really long time. At some point, I’ll tell you the whole of it. But for now, right this minute, I really, really want to throw another log on that fire and burn Mac’s letter. I realized last night that I don’t need his words to know that I’m a good person. The only people’s opinion of me that matters are sitting right here.”
Zoey shrugs and seems to come to an impasse. “I tend to forget that my heart and compassion comes from what you taught me, not what we were shown from Momma and Daddy. My ability to forgive works for me.”
Derrick wraps his arm around her shoulder and places a kiss on her head. It seems to give her the strength to finish what she has to say. “They weren’t good parents to you, or to me for that matter. But Daddy liked the attention he got when I was around, and that made things different for us.” Looking over at Sasha and then to me, she seems hesitant to proceed but does. “They were neglectful on the best of days, but when you got pregnant, they became enraged at you for being so, so impertinent.” She takes a breath before continuing. “‘How dare she sully the Applebee name,’” Zoey says in the perfect tone and timber of our mother. It’s so spot on I shiver. “Not the McEvoy name, the Applebee name.” Defeated, Zoey looks up at her husband and sighs. “Fuck it. Let’s burn the bitch.”
“Well, okay then. Mom? Let’s get this Nordic burial underway.”
Sasha’s words have everyone laughing and it isn’t until Jackson places the letter in my lap that I realize he had left my side. “It’s all you, Legs.” He reaches a hand out to me. The man who has brought so much light into my life, pulls me out of the darkened night once more. With a quick kiss to my forehead, he pats my ass, which I like, a lot, and walks over to the pit with me.
At my hesitation, Jackson whispers, “You got this, baby. We’re here for you.”
His words give me the strength to rid myself of the letter that has consumed me for the past twenty-four hours. If I’m honest with myself, it also gives me the courage to let go of all of the past hurt and anger I’ve been carrying around. Looking around the fire, I am grateful for the people surrounding it. Knowing that “family” has multiple meanings. Whether it is one created by blood, an emotional bond, or through friendship, family is what you make of it.
With a sense of peace that envelopes me, I look around at the people who make up my family. What we have created is the strongest of all because it is a combination of all three. We chose to be here for one another. We chose to fight for one another. The sudden and unexpected vision of Viggo Mortensen pops into my head and has me chuckling. I’m not talking the Viggo from Lord of the Rings. No, I’m talking about the sexy, controlling, Master Chief Viggo from G.I. Jane. Where he says, “We don’t leave a man behind.” Well we don’t leave any man behind. If one of us is hurt or tired, we let the others carry the load for a bit until we are able to carry it for ourselves once more.
With a glance to my girls and then Jackson, I know that I am not being left behind. The future is scary and uncertain, but with these strong, proud, kind and loving individuals in my life, I’m going to be just fine.
Taking a deep breath in through my nose, like I’ve been taught in my yoga classes, I envision the invisible line that links me to Mac, Jami, and even Brad. On my exhale, I toss the letter into the fire, and at the same time cut the line and the hold that they’ve had over me for years.
Feeling lighter, less angry at the world, and freer, I look to my champions in life. “Don’t the Nordics drink a toast to the dead?” I look over to Derrick. “I think I’m getting gipped here, Derrick.”
Getting to his feet, my brother-in-law says, “They were partial to vodka. I’m on it.”
“Oh, men after my own heart!”
Jackson
SIX WEEKS HAVE passed since the spiritual bonfire in Claire’s backyard and she freed herself of all the anger and guilt she has lived in. Despite the efforts of the players, the New York Giants did not make the post season after Wildcard weekend. Being crushed by the Green Bay Packers was expected but still a harsh lesson. There is still a lot of work that needs to be done with the defense, and Muldoon still struggled in his new position, but he got more comfortable as the season went on. I’m hopeful for next season, the upcoming draft, and the prospect of players coming up the ranks, as well as with Ian’s ability to lead the defense.
The end of the season brought an end to the only life Claire has ever known, and my girl continues to amaze me even more every day. With grace and style, she said her goodbyes to the team and walked away from one football world and right into another. As Co-Executive Director of the Coach’s Shadow Foundation, both she and Zoey are busy planning the third annual Coach’s Shadow Foundation Ball. Claire is thriving in her new position and I think that it’s working with Zoey that has Legs flexing her own inner strength. I also know that it’s the confidence she gained at knowing she is finally out from under the ever watchful and continuous eye of the world of professional football.
We haven’t seen much of Sasha in the past several weeks and Claire worries about her. I know that she is still stripping at Ian’s family’s joint, which makes me cringe and repeatedly want to drag her ass back home. Legs and I talked about calling her on it, but knowing that it would only push her girl even further into that environment, we have decided to just wait and see. At least that’s what Claire seems to think. Me, not so much. I have piggybacked into their security system and am receiving almost daily updates from Ian. As p
ossessive as he has become toward Sash, I know that nothing and no one will come to harm our girl.
Brad is still with the team, unfortunately. I still keep an eye on that one too, but he seemed to back off from Claire when she stood up to him back in September. But like he said, he doesn’t have to mess with her directly to get to her. And I can’t help but shake the niggling feeling that something is coming. I’ll continue to monitor everything the man does so that we aren’t caught unprepared. I may have to pull Suzie in and teach her some of my tricks. She’ll be tickled and I’ll get a little more sleep at night.
Claire and I have spent every night together, and my girl grows more and more comfortable with her sexuality. She still only shows that side of herself to me, and I am thankful for that. Remembering the other night puts a smile on my face. Claire let me tie her up for the first time, and just the thought of my girl spread eagle, facedown and panting has me rock hard. The sounds that escaped her while I teased her will forever be etched in my brain.
I didn’t push too hard this first time, just a light paddling, followed by gorging myself on her essence because she was drenched halfway down her thighs. I licked my way up her delectable legs and feasted. I was a man possessed and eating her pussy had me going insane. Still able to taste Claire on my tongue, she is an erotic combination of cinnamon and vanilla, has my balls drawing up inside me. Just thinking about her flavor makes my mouth water. A groan escapes me as I remember how her tight channel milked me as she gushed down my throat.
“Jack?” My shortened name from Claire gets my full attention. She only calls me that when she needs me. Christ, I love that about her.
Turning from the window on the sunporch, I am greeted with the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. Claire, holding my cuffs and wearing the prettiest black lace bra and panty set. I stalk toward my girl, and the vixen giggles and takes off toward the stairs.
Encroachment (Coach's Shadow Trilogy #2) Page 18