Love Left Behind (45 page)

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.

"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 hungry 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 wondering 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.