by S. H. Kolee
"Despite giving the media what they want, I'm not going to let them dictate how we handle our relationship. We've had five years of breathing room. I plan on making up for lost time." Jackson's jaw tightened. "Unless you object to that."
I shook my head, not wanting him to misunderstand. "It's not that I don't want to spend time with you. It's just...our relationship was so intense five years ago. We spent practically every waking moment together. Actually, we spent every moment together, both awake and asleep. Maybe that was unhealthy." And maybe that was one of the reasons why you turned to Claire, I thought. Because you wanted something less intense.
"No," Jackson said implacably. "I'm not taking time apart because of some notion of what's healthy." Jackson raised an eyebrow self-deprecatingly. "As I've told you, I'm not exactly the model for healthy behavior. We'll stay at your place. Less ghosts."
I was exasperated at Jackson's autocratic demeanor again, but I had to admit that I wanted to spend the night together as well. I decided not to push it.
We finished dinner with crème brulee and bread pudding. I hadn't planned on ordering dessert but the waiter had insisted that it was on the house, compliments of the chef. Jackson didn't seem surprised by the offering, and I wondered if one just got used to the special treatment that came along with being famous.
When we exited the restaurant, Craig was in his normal stance by the SUV and I had to admit that it was nice never having to worry about catching a taxi or taking the subway.
"Do you need to stop by your apartment and pick up some clothes?"
"No, it's okay. I have a few things with me already." He nodded his head towards a black overnight bag behind us in the trunk.
"I guess you staying over was a foregone conclusion," I said with a smirk.
Jackson smiled at me seductively, raising his hand to cup the back of my head, kneading my scalp gently with his fingers. I shivered, feeling the sensation all the way down my spine. "I can be very convincing when I want to be."
My gaze shot to Craig in the driver's seat, but he was staring resolutely ahead, pretending not to hear anything. It didn't make me any less self-conscious. I was surprised when Jackson reached over to press a button and a tinted partition rose between the front and back seats. We were effectively closed off from the entire world since the windows on the sides were tinted as well.
"Well, that's convenient. Is there somewhere to put quarters in so that the backseat starts vibrating?"
Jackson's green eyes gleamed as he continued massaging my scalp. "No, but I can do my best to replicate the sensation with my mouth."
I laughed but I couldn't deny the clenching of my lower body in anticipation. "Behave! Even though Craig can't see us, I'm sure it's not soundproof back here. I would be too mortified to ever leave this car if he heard me panting back here."
Jackson's hand drifted down from my scalp to the small of my back, just above the crease of my buttocks. He massaged the area gently, rubbing one long finger between the crease, and I felt my hips involuntarily tilt towards him.
"For your sake, I hope we don't encounter too much traffic, because I plan on having you panting in a few moments, whether it's here in the backseat or in your apartment."
I swallowed as I glanced out the window, willing the traffic to clear. I had a feeling that if Jackson continued his caresses, I wouldn't care who heard me.
Chapter Nineteen
"That's disgusting," I said, wrinkling my nose as I watched Jackson slather a bagel with so much cream cheese that it was almost the same thickness as the bread. "I forgot how much cream cheese you put on your bagel. You might as well just eat it straight from the tub with a spoon."
Jackson paused from spreading the cream cheese on his bagel and looked pointedly at my chest. "I could think of something else I'd like to lick cream cheese off of," he said with a wicked gleam in his eye.
"You're incorrigible!" I laughed, surprised that I still felt a tingle in response to his words, considering I was worn out from our intense lovemaking last night. We had made it back to my apartment from Romero's in record time and I had a niggling worry that Craig had overheard us in the backseat, and as a result, had driven through the streets like Mario Andretti. I had blushed when I had bade him goodnight, but his expression had been blank when he had returned the sentiment.
We hadn't been able to make it to the bedroom, our passion making us rip off each other's clothing before we even made it to the living room. I didn't protest when Jackson pushed me into the kitchen and lifted me up onto the counter. I clutched the edge as he spread my legs apart and stood between them, giving him full access to my quivering arousal. He blew lightly on my aching cleft, making me clench my lower body in anticipation. I was confused when he abruptly stood up with a cool expression, as if he was no longer feeling the eruption of our passion, but his jutting erection was a dead giveaway of his arousal.
"I'm hungry. Do you have anything to eat?" he asked casually. I watched him in disbelief as he opened the refrigerator and then the freezer, as if he were looking for a midnight snack. I was naked, my arms leaning back and supporting my weight as I panted with arousal, my legs apart on the counter and my hips tilted up, completely exposed.
"What are you talking about?" I choked out, watching Jackson dig in the freezer. "We just had dinner. And we're, uh...kind of in the middle of something." My feet curled in frustration, my toes clenching together in need.
Jackson turned back from the freezer, holding a pint of vanilla ice cream. "I found something I want," he said as he closed the freezer and rummaged through my drawers, finding a spoon. My core flooded with warmth when he returned to me, pressing against the counter between my legs. He had a devilish glint in his eye as he took off the lid, dipping the spoon inside.
"Hmm," he said consideringly, as his gaze wandered down my heaving body. My panting seemed to have gotten louder and I couldn't control my breaths. "I know what would make this ice cream taste even better."
He slowly slid the back of the spoon against my collarbone, the metal icy cold from the ice cream melting on top. I shuddered as Jackson slowly glided the back of the spoon down my chest, leaving a cold trail on my hot skin. I held my breath when the spoon came closer to my aching nipple, the erect bud tightening as the metal spoon came tantalizing close. I whimpered when the back of the spoon finally slid against my rock hard peak, pushing against the nub, the cold sensation feeling searingly erotic. I watched as Jackson tipped the spoon, allowing the melting ice cream to dribble onto my breast.
"Jackson!" I cried out when he quickly took my taut nipple in his mouth, catching the ice cream and suckling hard. Jackson's hot mouth and the cold ice cream was an intoxicating mixture and I was helpless against it, pushing up my breast as I reveled in the feeling of Jackson's teeth tugging on my nipple. I felt as if I was going to explode with sensation as Jackson's warm tongue made a hot path down my stomach, licking up the drips of ice cream that had escaped.
"So sweet. You're so sweet," Jackson whispered. "I need more."
I wrapped my legs around Jackson and pushed my wet core against him, struggling to keep myself propped up on the counter, weak from desire.
"It's okay, sweetheart. Lay back. I have a lot more tasting to do." Jackson guided me to lie back on the counter, my legs still circled around him as he leaned forward against the counter, against the center of my arousal. He took another spoonful of ice cream and lavished the same attention to my other nipple, breathing harshly when I arched my back and mewled in pleasure. He then took his time dripping melted ice cream down my body and licking it up. Down my stomach and my belly button, working his way down to my epicenter of pleasure, my climax just on the brink of being unleashed. I couldn't believe how hot I was getting, watching him work his tongue on my body, the hot and cold sensations making me squirm and my toes curl. I didn't think I could take anymore when he unwrapped my legs around him, spreading them apart as far as they would go.
"Now what I'm really hu
ngry for," Jackson rasped, his eyes glittering. I sucked in a sharp breath when I felt the cold spoon against my engorged clit, the sensation on my most sensitive spot both pleasurable and painful. I watched transfixed as Jackson dipped his spoon into the container, filling it with melted ice cream.
"Jackson, please!" I cried out in a garbled voice as I felt it dripping on my clit and down the cleft of my already sopping slit, not sure what I was even asking for. It felt so erotic that I felt like I was going to go crazy, the cold liquid on my wet arousal making my muscles clench reflexively. Jackson lowered his head, sliding his tongue up my cleft, lapping up my wetness and the ice cream as if it was the best thing he had ever tasted. When his mouth latched onto my swollen clit and suckled hard, his tongue laving it up and down inside his mouth, I lost it and felt convulsions shudder through my lower body, keening out in pure pleasure.
When the haze cleared, Jackson was standing between my legs again and gazing at me with glittering eyes. He leaned down and kissed me softly and thoroughly and I tasted myself and the vanilla ice cream on his tongue. It was so erotic that I felt a last convulsion shudder through me.
"I love the taste of you," Jackson whispered against my mouth. "You're even sweeter than ice cream."
"Jackson," I groaned, his words making me tremble. I could feel the stickiness of the residual ice cream between our bodies, and I found it incredibly carnal. The ice cream was then forgotten, melting on the counter, as Jackson hooked his hands behind my knees and lifted my legs, giving him easy access to my slickened center. His control had been amazing while he had been teasing me with the ice cream, but it slipped as the head of his erection pushed through my sensitive folds and he slammed into me, guttural noises tearing from his throat as he consumed me, thrusting into me over and over again until I felt my response building. We both climaxed violently, Jackson holding my hips in place as he shot into me and I flexed convulsively around his shaft.
After the last of our climaxes left our bodies and we caught our breath, Jackson smiled at me ruefully as he looked down at the floor. We had knocked over the container of ice cream in our frenzied coupling, and ice cream was now dripping down the cabinets and all over the floor.
Even though it had been a pain to clean up the sticky mess, Jackson's suggestive comment this morning about the cream cheese made me forget the effort it had taken to clean the kitchen. Instead, I remembered how much fun it had been to clean each other in the shower afterwards.
But I resisted the urge to act on Jackson's invitation. I was nervous about the party tonight and wanted to spend the day shopping, determined to find a dress that would make Jackson proud to have me on his arm. I was surprised when he said he would join me. The Jackson of five years ago often went shopping with me, holding my bags and leering playfully as I modeled the clothes I tried on for him. But I didn't expect the Jackson of today to want to do something as monotonous as shopping. Regardless, I was happy to accept his offer to accompany me and we were finishing up bagels we had ordered in before we hit the stores.
Jackson shrugged when I didn't bite at his invitation with the cream cheese. "We can always save it for next time. At least we don't have to worry about it melting and making a mess."
I laughed, even though I felt my cheeks warming. I could be so wanton and illicit with Jackson in the heat of passion, but sometimes in the light of day, it still dumbfounded me how raw I could get with Jackson in the haze of arousal.
"I didn't know you were so into food and sex."
Jackson gave me a half-smile, looking irresistible as a shaft of morning light coming in through the window made his dark brown hair shine with golden highlights. His green eyes looked brilliant against the backdrop of his tanned skin, his dimples peeking out at me. Jackson's muscled forearms looked strong and powerful as he rested them on the breakfast table, leaning towards me. My heart felt too full, as if it was going to burst with happiness and relief. I never thought I would feel this way again, that I would be sitting across from Jackson feeling fulfilled and desired.
"Me neither. I'm learning that I'm into anything that involves you."
I lifted up my hand, brushing a lock of his hair back that had fallen onto his forehead. Jackson caught my hand in his, lowering it and turning his head to kiss my palm softly.
"I'm happy our ending was different from Hubbell and Katie's," he said quietly. My heart fluttered from his reference to The Way We Were, not realizing that my gesture mirrored the ending of the movie until Jackson mentioned it. "It would kill me if I had to walk away from you because of my own stupid mistakes."
I smiled at Jackson tenderly, my love for him surging through me. "We got to rewrite our ending. Maybe we should be thanking Candace for being a scheming liar."
Jackson smiled ruefully. "I don't know if I would go that far, but it did bring us together, which I'm grateful for. Now that we're back together, I can't remember how I lived life without you."
I smiled sweetly at Jackson but then caught sight of the clock on the wall behind him. I stood up, grabbing our coffee cups. "I'd love to stay here all day gazing into each other's eyes and waxing poetic about our relationship, but I have some shopping to do."
Jackson grinned, slapping me lightly on the behind. "Brat. That's what I get for trying to be romantic." Nevertheless, he stood and picked up our plates, following me into the kitchen. "Where do you want to go shopping?"
"Let's try Bloomingdale's first. We can work our way downtown if I don't find anything there."
"Why don't we just go to Fifth Avenue? All the stores are on one street so we don't have to run around the city. My assistant can call for private appointments, if you want. She knows more about that kind of stuff than I do."
I raised an eyebrow at Jackson. "Since when do you have an assistant?"
Jackson quirked his mouth, looking slightly abashed. "Unfortunately it comes with the territory. Marcie hired one without even telling me years ago, and I didn't have the heart to fire her. But Sherry, my assistant, doesn't get to do much. I usually don't even have her travel with me so she's twiddling her thumbs back in L.A. Calling stores and setting up appointments would give her something to do."
"Thanks for the offer, but I think my landlord would prefer me paying my rent this month, and I have a feeling that shopping in stores that take private appointments might be out of my price range."
"I'm buying your dress," Jackson said, frowning. His brows were furrowed together and I had a feeling that we were about to have a battle of wills.
"Jackson," I said, placing my hand on his arm to gentle my words. "I appreciate the offer, but I can afford to buy my own dress."
Jackson's frown became even more pronounced. "I didn't say you couldn't afford to buy your own dress. I said that I'm buying the dress for you. You're the one doing me a favor by coming with me tonight." Jackson's expression grew fiercer as he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close. "Besides, we're together now. If I want to buy my woman a dress, I'm damn well going to buy her a dress."
"I just-" I hesitated, trying to choose words that wouldn't offend Jackson, but I couldn't forget the dozens of articles I had read accusing me of being a gold-digger. "I don't want you to think that you have to shower me with gifts. I don't want you for your money."
"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that, otherwise I'm going to be seriously angry that you would ever think I would believe that. Don't start believing the crap they write in that trash they call magazines." Jackson increased the pressure of his arm, pushing me closer so that I had to tip my head back to keep eye contact with him. He looked grim as he gazed down at me. "I'm buying you a dress because you belong to me. If I want to spend money on you, that's my prerogative. You're mine and I take care of what's mine."
Jackson's possessive forcefulness took my breath away and I felt equal parts frustrated and pleased. It thrilled me to hear Jackson say I belonged to him, but another part of me wondered if this kind of attachment was unhealthy. I couldn't help won
dering if the co-dependency in our prior relationship had pushed him towards Claire. I forced the thought from my mind, not wanting to depress myself. I just decided to let it go today and let Jackson have his way. I was hoping that we had a lifetime together to negotiate the terms of our relationship.
"Okay," I relented. "But no private appointments. Let's just shop like we're normal people." On that note, I glanced at his outfit. He was wearing his standard casual outfit, jeans and a well-worn t-shirt, but I frowned at his bare head. "Shouldn't you wear a cap? Do you have sunglasses with you? Everyone will recognize you."
Jackson leaned down and gave me a quick kiss, obviously pleased that I had capitulated. "I don't care if people recognize me. I'm tired of living my life hiding behind baseball caps and sunglasses. I'm shopping with my girlfriend today and I don't care who sees it. You forget I'm not the only one who will be recognized now."
My pulse quickened at Jackson's use of the term girlfriend and I decided if Jackson was okay with being recognized, I was fine with it as well. Besides, if I wanted a future with Jackson, I had to get used to him being a public figure. I doubted people would actually recognize me on my own, but standing next to Jackson was a dead giveaway.
Craig was waiting for us downstairs and I couldn't help feeling bad that he had to spend so much of his time just waiting around to see where our whims took us. He double-parked when we got to the shopping district of Fifth Avenue, taking his usual position of leaning against the side of the car looking foreboding. I felt sorry for the police officer that would try to give him a ticket.
Even though I insisted on no private appointments, Jackson had still called Sherry for advice about which stores to go to. Apparently, she was a clotheshorse with impeccable taste and I couldn't help but wonder what she looked like. I pushed the unwelcome feeling of jealousy aside. I was going to trust Jackson until he gave me a reason to be suspicious.