Love Left Behind (15 page)

Jackson traveled up my
body, placing light kisses along the way. When he took my nipple in his mouth
and tugged on it, I felt another sharp spike of desire. I had always enjoyed
sex well enough, but I never knew it could feel like this. I was insatiable.

Jackson reached my
mouth and kissed me deeply. I could taste myself on him and it was fiercely
erotic.

"Fuck me,
Jackson," I whispered against his mouth, my eyes fluttering closed.
"Fuck me hard."

"Emma,"
Jackson groaned hoarsely. He caught my chin and held my face still. "Look
at me."

I opened my eyes and my
breath caught. Jackson was looking down at me with not only desire, but with
something else. Something I didn't want to identify yet, but it gave me a surge
of happiness.

"I want you to
look at me when I slide into you. I want you to look at me while I fuck
you."

I nodded helplessly. At
that moment, I would have done anything Jackson had asked of me.

I felt the head of his
arousal nudging aside the folds of my wetness and I whimpered as I felt him stretching
me, filling me to the point of pain.

"You're mine,
Emma," Jackson bit out as he began to move inside me, his face tight as he
steadily increased the speed of his thrusts. "Say it."

"I'm yours,"
I sobbed mindlessly as each plunge pushed me closer to the brink.

Jackson grunted in
approval and then he seemed to lose control. I clung to him as he pumped into
me, thrusting so hard that I felt the head of his arousal slamming into the end
of me. I dug my nails into his back, trying to hold on as I felt ripples of
pleasure start to overtake my body.

I cried out as I came
and I heard Jackson yell out my name as he found his own release. In that
moment, I felt connected to Jackson like I had never felt connected to anyone
before. It made me giddy and anxious at the same time. Giddy because it felt so
good, anxious because it felt
too
good.

After both of us caught
our breath, Jackson rested his forehead against mine and I could feel beads of
sweat rolling down his face. He grinned at me weakly.

"I don't know if
we'll ever get around to slow and easy."

"I think I can
live with that," I replied with a rueful smile.

Jackson rolled over
onto his back, taking me with him so that I was on top of him, still intimately
connected. He suddenly got a grim look on his face.

"What's
wrong?" I asked.

"Shit. I forgot to
put on a condom. I'm sorry. I can't believe I was so careless."

"It's okay,"
I reassured him, although I was concerned that I hadn't even noticed. Hadn't
even cared. I had to be careful not to be too reckless, even if I was on birth
control. "I'm on the pill."

Jackson grinned.
"Good. That means I don't have to wear those damn things. It feels so much
better without it. And I have a clean bill of health."

"Me too," I
said, not volunteering the fact that I had only been with one other person.

"So that means
we're exclusive, right?"

I paused, surprised
that Jackson would bring that up after only a week. But I knew that was
absolutely what I wanted so I nodded.

Jackson raised his head
and gave me a soft kiss. "How did I get so lucky to find you?"

I smiled, pleasure
coursing through me at his words. "I guess you must have done something
good in your life."

"I must
have," Jackson agreed with a solemn smile.

It amazed me how primal
and forceful Jackson could be while we were making love, yet he could be so
sweet and gentle as well. I thought I could spend the rest of my life trying to
figure out Jackson Reynard.

We spent the rest of
the night in bed, talking easily and sharing deeper confidences. Jackson told
me about how hard it had been to grow up under his father's shadow. As loving
as his father was, Jackson always had the feeling that he hadn't measured up.
He told me about his grandmother who he had been extremely close to. She had
passed away while he was in college and she had left him a sizable inheritance,
which allowed him to pursue his acting career without having to worry about a
steady income.

I told Jackson about
how I had fallen apart when my father died. I had definitely been a daddy's
girl and it had been devastating to lose him. I told him about the good
memories too, like when my father used to take me out to lunch, just the two of
us. My father would listen to me chatter on about who liked whom in school and
who was my latest best friend while we ate burgers with milkshakes. It was the
little things that I remembered the most about my father.

My last thought before
drifting off to sleep was that my father would have liked Jackson.

"What do you want
to do today?" Jackson asked. We had slept in and were now lazily drinking
coffee and eating bagels that Jackson had run out to get. I was amazed at how
comfortable I felt around him. I couldn't believe how strong our passion was,
yet I felt completely at ease lounging on the couch, my legs stretched out with
my feet on Jackson's lap.

"It's a gorgeous
day. Maybe we can go to Central Park."

Jackson's eyes lit up.
"A picnic!" He leaned down and gently lifted my leg, kissing my
ankle. "How did I find someone so smart and beautiful?"

I giggled, feeling like
I was floating on clouds of pure happiness. "The picnic was your
idea."

Jackson grinned at me.
"That's right. How did you find someone so smart?"

I burst out laughing.
"Just lucky, I guess. You forgot the beautiful part."

Jackson gave me a mock
frown. "It's not manly to say I'm beautiful."

I sat up and folded my
legs under me, kneeling next to Jackson and giving him a quick kiss.
"Okay. You're not beautiful. You're ruggedly handsome in the most
masculine way possible."

Jackson grabbed me,
pulling me so that I was sitting on his lap. "That's better. Now you get
your reward."

Jackson cradled the
back of my head with one hand, leaning down to caress my lips with his own. The
kiss was gentle and slow as he languidly explored my mouth with his lips and tongue,
playfully nipping at my bottom lip and sucking it gently into his mouth.

The kiss stirred desire
but another emotion as well. Jackson Reynard would be easy to fall in love
with. Despite my fears of what the future would hold, I decided to grab onto
this happiness for as long as it lasted.

Jackson pulled back,
gently brushing my hair back from my forehead and smiling at me with such
sweetness that my heart squeezed.

"Can we drop by my
apartment first?" I asked, a little breathlessly. "I need to take a
shower and change."

"Sure, but why
don't you just bring some stuff back here and shower? That way, you'll have
your toiletries and clothes for tomorrow."

"Maybe I should
stay at my apartment tonight. You have your show later too. We can just meet up
tomorrow for Nathan's art show."

Jackson frowned.
"Don't you want to stay over?" He sounded so vulnerable that my heart
melted, but I didn't think it was a good idea to spend so much time together. I
didn't want Jackson to get burned out of my company.

"I do, but don't
you think we're going a little too fast? It might be good to pace
ourselves."

Jackson look
displeased. "Who's to say we're going too fast? If it feels right, it
feels right. I want you in my bed when I go to sleep and I want to wake up next
to you. I don't care whether it's too fast according to some arbitrary dating
rule." He paused, looking uncertain for the first time since I had met
him. "Unless you're saying this is too fast for you. I guess I just
assumed that you wanted to stay here as much I wanted you to. If this is too
fast for you..."

Jackson trailed off,
his lips pressed together as he searched my face. His uncertainty made me
realize that Jackson was feeling just as vulnerable as I was.

I gave Jackson a quick
kiss and smiled at him, his candor making it easy for me to be honest as well.
"It's not too fast for me. It's just a little scary knowing how much time
I want to spend with you. I don't want us to get burned out by going too
fast."

Jackson smiled, looking
relieved. "I wouldn't worry about that. I have a feeling it's going to
take a while for me to get enough of you. A lifetime might be long enough,
although I doubt it."

My heart actually
physically ached from his words, the sweetness so overpowering that it was
almost painful. But I just smiled at him.

"Well, I can't
refute that kind of logic."

We made the quick trip
to my apartment where I gathered my toiletries and enough clothes to last me
the weekend. Claire's keys were on the kitchen counter so I knew she was home,
although she must have still been asleep in her bedroom because she didn't stir
while we were there.

We went back to
Jackson's apartment where we quickly showered and got ready for the park. We
stopped off at Dean & Deluca's to buy a pre-made picnic basket full of goodies.
We took a cab uptown and Jackson navigated us to a beautiful area of Central
Park where the rolling lawn was already scattered with plenty of people who had
the same idea as us.

Jackson spread out a
blanket that he had brought from his apartment and we made ourselves
comfortable.

"There's so much
food in here," I said as I rummaged through the basket. "Way too much
for two people."

Jackson patted his flat
stomach. "I can eat my weight in food."

"I guess it's a
good thing you work out all the time," I replied drily.

Jackson grinned as he
pulled out a bottle of white wine from the basket, deftly opening it with the
wine opener. "And here I thought you liked me for my winning
personality."

"Where'd you get
that idea? I just like you for your body." I couldn't suppress a smile as
I watched Jackson pouring the wine into two plastic cups. He handed me one with
a grin.

"Here's to us
liking each other's bodies."

"I'll drink to
that." I took a sip of the wine and sighed contentedly, looking around us
and watching people who were similarly enjoying a lazy day outside. It was warm
but with a light teasing breeze that kept it from being too hot. I looked back
at Jackson who was busy opening packages of crackers and different cheeses and
spreads. A week ago, I had been on a train to New York, nervous about my new
life and wondering if I would be happy here. Now I was stretched out on a
blanket in Central Park, having a gorgeous man pay singular attention to me. My
job was going well and I liked my roommate. Life was good.

Jackson glanced up,
catching me watching him, but instead of being embarrassed, I smiled at him.

"A girl could get
used to this. A beautiful day, a picnic in the park, wine with cheese and
crackers. Very smooth, Mr. Reynard, very smooth."

Jackson winked at me
and handed me a plate full of crackers, cheese and prosciutto. He had also
opened up various containers of tapenades, hummus and olives. With Jackson
constantly feeding me, I had a feeling that I would need to use that new gym
membership of mine.

"I aim to
please," Jackson said with a smile. He started eating his own plate of
food as he relaxed on the blanket, his legs stretched out in front of him. His
green t-shirt made his eyes seem even brighter and the breeze lightly ruffled
his dark brown hair. He looked comfortable and relaxed and I had to suppress
the urge to drop my plate and satiate my appetite with him instead.

"This part of
Central Park is beautiful," I commented as I started in on my own plate.

"It's called
Strawberry Fields in memory of John Lennon. There's a little memorial that we
can visit afterwards."

"My dad was a huge
Beatles fan. He would always listen to them while making pancakes on Sunday
mornings, his specialty. I used to love sitting at the kitchen table while he
cooked. We would sing along and argue about who was the better songwriter; John
Lennon or Paul McCartney."

Jackson smiled at me.
"Who was your dad a fan of?"

"John Lennon. His
favorite song was
Imagine
, but I
argued that it didn't count because he wrote it after the Beatles broke up, and
we were comparing their songwriting skills during the Beatles era."

"I think you'll
like the memorial then."

"I like anything
that reminds me of my father. It was a long time before I could let myself
remember the happy memories. I thought it was easier not thinking about him at
all, but I realized it hurt more than letting myself remember the good times,
no matter how much it made me miss him."

Jackson took my hand in
his, softly stroking my palm with his thumb. "I like hearing you talk
about your dad. Your face lights up and you get a faraway look in your eyes,
like you're seeing him in your mind. It makes me feel like I can see him
too."

"I like telling
you about him. It's been a while since I've had someone to share my memories
with. My father's death was really hard on my mother and she hates talking
about him. I know it's because she loved him so much and was devastated by his
death. It's her coping mechanism, but it's hard to not be able to ever bring
him up around her."

I didn't add that Sean
had shared her coping mechanism. He had seemed to think that not making me
think about my father would help me get over his death. Even almost nine years
after his death, Sean had been careful not to bring up my father. As if he
thought I would crumble with grief. He hadn't realized that I needed to talk
about my father. I needed to remember his life, not his death. My father had
lived forty-one vibrant years. That's what I needed to celebrate.

Jackson replaced his
stroking thumb with his lips, kissing my palm softly. "I'm here whenever
you want to talk about him."