by Zuri Day
They went inside. In a glance, Diamond took in the two-story ceiling, generous foyer, sparkling crystal chandelier and a double winding staircase that seemed straight out of a fairy tale. Her heels clicked against the smooth marble flooring as she followed Jackson into a formal living room. Luxury with a capital L oozed from every nook and cranny, and while the trappings were undoubtedly expensive, a homeyness somehow exuded, the kind that made you want to take off your shoes and stay awhile.
Jackson gave Diamond’s hand a final squeeze. “Make yourself at home.” Diamond observed his long, sure strides as he crossed the floor to the fireplace. After placing a few pieces of kindling on top of the larger logs already arranged, he pushed a button and within seconds a fire blazed in the hearth.
“Real wood,” Diamond said, as she continued to walk around and admire the room. “I like that.”
Jackson’s eyes narrowed as purposeful strides ate up the distance between them. “And I like this.”
Diamond closed her eyes for the kiss but instead felt strong, protective arms wrap themselves around her. For a moment, they simply stood there, feeling each others’ rapid heartbeat, breathing in a combination of woodsy and floral scents. Diamond could feel heat, but she wasn’t sure whether it emanated from his body or hers. The wetness? It was definitely her. She brought her arms to Jackson’s back, reveling in the broad expanse of manliness she felt there. His hands traveled, too, and soon they were kneading her shoulders.
“You’re so tight.”
Diamond rested her head against his shoulder and enjoyed his ministrations. “That feels good.”
He kissed her temple.
So does that.
And the top of her head.
And that. Just a kiss, she reminded herself. That’s all. Nothing more can happen.
Then he nipped her ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth, and Diamond got the distinct feeling that she’d be picking her car up in the morning.
Chapter 19
Diamond tightened her grip around Jackson’s waist—and just in time. Because Jackson lifted her head and claimed her mouth in a kiss so hot that she needed something to hold on to lest she keel straight over. His long, thick tongue sought and found territory unclaimed in the previous meeting. He massaged her head, neck and shoulders, his tongue massaging the inside of her mouth. Intending to take full advantage of the one-kiss-that’s-all-and-nothing-else-can-happen moment, Diamond shifted her head for better access, skimming her fingers along the small of his back before resting her hand on his firm, round butt. Her nipples hardened, begged for attention; her kitty throbbed intensely. If possible, she knew it would have audibly meowed. She broke the kiss, looked deep into Jackson’s eyes and was sure she conveyed this message: sorry, I can’t be with you again. Her telepathic signals must have been off because he promptly took her hand and headed to those beautiful double wrought-iron fixtures that Diamond would later dub the stairway to heaven.
Also later, Diamond would take her time and admire the ample landing, loft-style sitting room and bedrooms located on both sides of the hallway. Now she fixed her eyes on their obvious destination: a set of double doors at the end of the hall. Time to put on the breaks, Diamond. Speak now or forever hold your peace! Jackson opened the door. Diamond stifled a gasp. At any moment, she expected to see a choir of angels because this sure looked like paradise. Diamond eyed the custom-made king-size bed that rested on a large platform of cherry wood. It beckoned, but Jackson kept walking past the walk-in closet to another door that opened into the en suite bathroom. But really, that was too tame a word. This room was a virtual spa, complete with sauna, bidet and vessel sinks amid sparkling glass, hand-carved stone and a plant-filled water feature. A massive skylight revealed a scenic expanse of twinkling stars.
“Take off your clothes,” Jackson commanded, his voice low and husky. “I want to see you naked.”
Was she a dim-witted robot acting on command? Why was she reaching for the hem of her sleeveless tee and pulling it over her head when she should be saying, Thank you very much but could you please take me home? Jackson deftly unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, kissing her stomach and thighs as he helped rid her of them. Oh, that’s why. He watched as she unfastened her bra. It hit the ground. Her thong joined it.
“Better?” Diamond asked, her grin devilish and saucy.
“Indeed.” Jackson’s eyes never left Diamond’s as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt, pulled off his T-shirt and removed his slacks.
Mr. Happy swayed from side to side like a massive pendulum. Two more seconds of staring and Diamond may have been hypnotized. But she had better ideas for that work of art. All afternoon she’d thought of how it would taste in her mouth. This was right after the thoughts that they’d never be together again. She took a step, wrapped her fingers around his magic shaft and noted that her fingers could not touch. Day-um! Had it grown some more? She licked her lips and bent her head…
“No, not yet,” Jackson whispered. He moved away, and Diamond felt as bereft as Tom Hanks in Castaway, as if she were floating on a single plank in the midst of an ocean and her volleyball had suddenly floated away.
“Come here.”
She walked to the tub. She looked down into a mass of tiny bubbles, surprised because she hadn’t seen him pour bubble bath.
“Get in.”
The silkiness of Jackson’s voice made further questions unnecessary. At this point, Jackson could have told her to paddle a blow-up raft to Catalina Island, and if he was the promise on the other side, she would have been a rowing sister. She sat down in the midst of the bubbles, and right away it was as if a thousand tiny fingers were massaging her skin; from head to toe, she felt the sensations. She closed her eyes and let out an audible sigh. Now there was no doubt. This was heaven.
After a moment, she felt a touch on her arm. Jackson directed her forward and then slipped in behind her. He pulled her back against his chest, wrapped his arms around her and, for a moment, they simply enjoyed the bliss of design’s next level from the Jacuzzi…the bubble massage. His hands began to roam her body. Diamond’s legs immediately parted in silent invitation. He chuckled, and she would have felt chagrin had it not been for the fact that instead of her nana it was her nipples he wanted. He tweaked one and then the other as he placed feathery kisses along her neck. While still rolling a springy nub between his fingers, he took the other hand and found Diamond’s treasure. He slid a finger along her silky folds, and Diamond almost exploded right then. She spread her legs, but he continued to tease—barely rubbing her nub with the tip of his finger, while increasing the pressure on her achy breast. The feeling of his hands on her skin and the stimulating bubbles was ecstasy enough, but then, without warning, he buried his tongue in her ear and his finger inside her. Diamond cried out in surprise at the spasm that signaled the first of several orgasms she would have this night.
Before she could stop trembling, Jackson stepped out of the tub, lifted her into his arms and strode into the bedroom. Without thought of value, he laid her still-wet body on top of the raw silk comforter and climbed onto the bed. He stared at her, and Diamond’s body reacted to his fervent gaze. Incredibly, though she’d just experienced release, her nipples hardened and her muscles tightened. Would she ever get enough of this guy?
Obviously Jackson didn’t think so. Because after a few seconds of lightly running his fingers all over her body, he whispered a simple command: “Spread your legs.”
Diamond obeyed.
“Wider.”
Diamond swallowed, closed her eyes and followed instructions. There was an excruciating moment where nothing happened, and she imagined Jackson staring down at her. This turned her on even more. Then she felt a burst of air on her exposed flesh, followed by quick, short licks of tongue. She moaned and blindly reached for his head, wanting—no, needing—to
feel the pressure of him flush against her, inside her, everywhere. He complied, lapping, nibbling, tasting her over and again. Diamond relished the assault, but figuring what was good for the goose was equally so for the gander, she rolled over, got on her knees and issued a command of her own. “Lie back.”
Jackson’s obedience was accompanied by a slow, easy smile. He put his hands behind his head, watching Diamond’s every move. She clasped his ample manhood, massaged it from base to tip. She ran a thumbnail along his sac. He hissed. Now it was Diamond’s turn for the knowing chuckle. Ah, yes. Wetting her lips, she leaned down and kissed the tip before taking in as much of him as possible. She used her tongue to worship at his sizable shrine, following the path of his vein like a GPS, caressing his shaft as if it were a Smithsonian contender. She took him into her mouth and sucked. Hard. Jackson’s intake of breath was immediate, followed by a deep moan.
Oh, oh. Playtime was over, and Jackson was now in command. He reached for a condom and shielded himself. He lifted her to her knees, got behind her and, after using his tongue in ways that Diamond could only have imagined, poised himself for entry. He made them one with a single body-tingling, mind-boggling powerful stroke. Up. Down. In. Out. Oh…so…slowly. His thrusts were powerful, purposeful, as if to brand her very soul. Diamond grabbed fistfuls of comforter, matching him thrust for vigorous thrust. They loved, then slept and loved some more. And as streaks of orange and purple announced the dawn, Jackson was loving her still.
Chapter 20
Monday morning arrived, and Diamond was as chipper as the birds that trilled outside her bedroom window. She’d spent the weekend with Jackson, not picking up her car from the restaurant until last night, after Jackson begrudgingly drove her away from their lair of love. Unable to keep her mind on work—or anything else but Jackson for the past seventy-two hours—she rose from her desk and walked to the window. Yes, indeed, today was a beautiful day.
A light tap and then Kathleen stepped into Diamond’s office. “Good morning, Diamond. You’re here early.” Diamond turned, Kathleen took in the glow on her face, and the mother of five immediately knew how it had gotten there. Heck, the late, great Ray Charles could have seen the glow. The astronauts parked at the moon’s space station could have seen that glow. “Enjoy your weekend?”
“It was okay,” Diamond said, trying for a tone of major disinterest.
She was trying so hard that Kathleen almost suggested adding a yawn for effect.
Diamond returned to her desk. “How was yours?”
“Oh, the usual. Sex all weekend—swinging from chandeliers, hitting high notes, just another forty-eight in the Fitzgerald household.” Diamond smirked. “Okay, since you want the PG version, I went with Carol and the grands to Old Town—costumes, haunted houses, too much candy, the works.”
“You didn’t dress up.”
Kathleen looked genuinely chagrined. “Why, of course I did, me lady. Dressed up as an Irish maid, I did,” she announced in a respectable brogue. “Then went home and showed Bernie my lucky charms.”
“Ha!”
“But we were both too tired to do much more than look.”
Both ladies laughed and then got down to Drake Wines business. “Oh, one more thing,” Diamond said, wrapping up. “I have a meeting with Jackson Wright at two.”
“Another one?” Kathleen asked innocently. “He was just here on Thursday.”
Diamond knew Kathleen was fishing, but she didn’t take the bait. “Yes, and with the expedited schedule, we’ll probably be joined at the hip for the next two weeks.” Diamond thought of ways they’d been joined last weekend and felt herself grow warm. “That’s it, Kat. Please hold my calls for the next hour.”
A crush of meetings and an hour-long phone call with the writer doing the O Magazine story helped time fly by. Before she knew it, two o’clock arrived. It had been less than twenty-four hours since his scorching kiss in the restaurant parking lot, but her stomach flip-flopped at the thought of seeing Jackson. He made her feel all gooey and girly inside, and today she’d swapped her more businesslike attire for a decidedly feminine look. When Kathleen announced his arrival, Diamond made one final adjustment to her apparel, quickly checked herself in the mirror and was out the door.
“You look good enough to eat,” Jackson said once they were buckled in the cart and heading toward the grapevines.
And you bless a pair of jeans like nobody’s business. “I’m at work, and the trees have eyes. Behave.”
Jackson admired her openly. “You smell good. And I like the dress. What color would you call that…pink? Rose?”
“It contains both,” Diamond answered, warmed by the flattery. Flattery would indeed get Jackson everywhere he’d already been.
“I like it.”
“Thanks.”
There was a companionable silence and then he said, “Did your parents mention anything about us?”
“No, but Mom called to tell me what time dinner was being served and to make sure I’d be there.”
“Dex talked?”
“I don’t know. But even if he didn’t, my mom could make money on a psychic hotline. ‘Staying with friends,’” Diamond said, making air quotes, “doesn’t exactly qualify as an explanation for a weekend away from the Drake Estate.”
“But you’re a grown woman. She keeps tabs on you like that?”
“Not exactly. But my staying out all weekend is unusual behavior.” Actually, unheard of would have been a better description. The two other dates she’d had since being dumped by Benjamin had been most forgettable, a fact that she hadn’t withheld from the household. So the fact that she’d spent the weekend out and on news of such was as quiet as a church mouse…well…that was something that wouldn’t get by Mrs. Genevieve Drake—not on any day of the week.
They reached the easternmost tip of the vine field, and away from work and prying eyes, Diamond removed the short-waist white jacket, revealing her halter dress beneath. Jackson immediately took advantage and placed a soft, wet kiss on her bare shoulder.
“Do I have to wear this jacket and bake in the heat? Or will you act right?”
“Baby,” he said, eyeing her behind and licking his lips, “I am acting right.”
Diamond ignored him. “In the journey of wine from grape to glass,” she said as if narrating a PBS special, “this—” making a sweeping motion across the mass acreage “—is where it all begins. The plots are sectioned off by type of grape—barbera, cabernet franc, cabernet sauvignon, sauvignon blanc, chardonnay, chenin blanc and merlot.” Jackson ran a finger down her arm. She swatted it away. “We also grow a few lesser known or less popular varieties such as pinot noir and its clone, pinot gris, Grenache, Shiraz, Viognier and Zinfandel.”
They walked down a row where plump, dark grape clusters swung from the vine. Jackson stopped. “Which grape is this?”
“That’s the Nebbiolo,” Diamond said. “Like you, a bad boy.” Jackson’s brow cocked in question. “Notoriously hard to grow and tame. Along with tannic and tarry qualities, it has a chocolaty taste.”
“Hum, like me indeed.” Diamond swatted his shoulder. “So now you think I’m vain, huh?”
“I prefer cocky.” Too late Diamond realized the double entendre.
“I know you do,” Jackson said, his smile rivaling the sun that shone overhead. “You preferred it all weekend long.”
“Whatever.” Though the sudden reddened hue of Diamond’s skin showed that she knew exactly of what he spoke.
Jackson rubbed his finger across the grape’s firm skin. “Can I eat one?”
“Sure.” Diamond reached into her pocket and pulled out a type of Swiss knife. “Here, let me.” She snipped off a small cluster. “I have water in the cart.”
“What do you have to do…wash off the in
secticides and pesticides you spray on this crop?”
“Our wines are organic, thank you very much. We use only natural pesticides to keep the bugs away. This is just to remove the dirt.”
Jackson popped a grape into his mouth. “God made dirt, so dirt don’t hurt.”
Diamond laughed. She hadn’t heard that saying since grade school. “You’re silly.”
“Or there’s another one…what’s a little dirt among friends. Baby, these are sweet. Here, taste one.” Diamond reached for the grape, but Jackson pulled back. “Open that sweet mouth of yours.” She did, and when taking the grape, Diamond’s lips brushed against Jackson’s fingers. Just like that, the smoldering sparks became flames.
“I’m hot, too,” Jackson said, pulling the shirt he wore over his head to reveal hard, rippling muscles.
Diamond could stare at his chest all day and never get enough. She could do many things with Jackson all day and never get enough. Even his tattoo wasn’t a deterrent. Normally, Diamond didn’t like them, but on him it was one of the sexiest things she’d ever seen, especially when outlining it with her tongue.
“Here, have another one.”
Jackson placed the grape between his teeth and leaned forward. It was probably a futile battle to resist him, not to mention a day late and a dollar short; nonetheless, she played hard to get. She pulled a grape from the cluster in his hand and plopped it into her mouth. “Delicious.”
“Really? Let me taste it.”
And before she could protest further, there was chest against breast and tongue in mouth. The taste of grapes mixed with desire was a potent combination, and as crazy as the notion was, Diamond wanted to be taken there, on the spot, between two rows of “bad boy” grapes. Fortunately, there were one or two vestiges of sanity left, and she used them to form her next five words: “Let’s go to Papa Dee’s.”