Love Left Behind (48 page)

I nodded distractedly
as Marc excused himself to make his rounds, disappearing into the crowd.
"What did you mean about Marc getting you out of a scrape in
Burbank?"

"We were doing a
charity event together in Burbank, and an overzealous fan was determined to
hide in the backseat of my car. My security was overwhelmed with the amount of
fans that showed up since the event was open to anyone who purchased a ticket.
Marc saw the woman sneak into the back of my car and escorted her out himself.
Turns out, she had duct tape and a knife on her."

"That's
insane!" I exclaimed, horrified that there were people that sick and
obsessed running loose. "What was she planning on doing?"

"Who knows?"
Jackson shrugged, looking unconcerned. "She couldn't explain the duct tape
and knife and claimed that she just wanted to meet me in person. She was a
small woman. Even if Marc hadn't seen her, nothing would have happened."

"You don't know
that," I said fiercely. The thought of some crazed fan attacking Jackson was
intolerable. "She could have taken you by surprise and hurt you before you
could stop her. I can't stand the thought of you being hurt by some deranged
fan. She was lucky I wasn't there."

Jackson smiled at me
tenderly, cupping the side of my neck and gently sweeping a thumb against my
jawline. "I'm glad I have such an impassioned protector." He leaned
down, kissing me softly as his arm tightened around me.

"I never thought
I'd live to see the day when Jackson Reynard participated in public displays of
affection."

We broke apart at the
mocking female voice and I glanced up at a willowy woman with shiny dark brown
hair tumbling down her back. I didn't recognize her but that didn't make her
any less gorgeous. Hazel cat-shaped eyes assessed me, and I didn't miss the
spark of malice in them.

"Leila,"
Jackson said, nodding in greeting. He didn't seem too excited to see her, his
eyes looking flat and dispassionate.

"Hello,
Jackson," she said in a lowered voice, as if they were the only two people
in the room. She reached out a perfectly manicured hand and grasped the lapel
of Jackson's jacket. "It's been a while."

Jackson looked grim as
he reached up and removed Leila's hand, dropping it as soon as he succeeded in
freeing his jacket from her grasp. "Yes, it's been a while. I scarcely
remember the last time we saw each other."

Leila pouted, but her
expression turned fuming when Jackson looked down at me with a sweet smile.
"Emma, this is Leila." Jackson turned back to Leila, his expression
hardening. "This is Emma, my girlfriend."

"Nice to meet you,
Leila," I said politely, but Leila was too busy boring holes into Jackson
with blazing eyes to respond.

"See you
around," Jackson said, clearly dismissing her. He guided me away and I
couldn't help cringing at Leila's furious expression.

"Is she an
ex-girlfriend or something? Is she going to start sending me dead kittens with
threatening letters?" I was trying to sound lighthearted, but I felt a
ball of insecurity starting to form in the pit of my stomach.

"I wouldn't call
her an ex-girlfriend." Jackson hesitated, looking reluctant to continue.
"We...spent some time together in the past."

I nodded, trying to
look blasé even though jealousy was coursing through me. "Is she an
actress? I don't recognize her."

"No, she's a model."

Of course she was.

Jackson and I spent
most of the night by the bar, not needing to mingle since everybody seemed to
come up to us. The night felt surreal as I tried to keep track of all the
celebrities I met, although I was beginning to realize that the bulk of them
seemed perfectly nice and normal. But I was dismayed by the amount of women
that came up to Jackson, seemingly unsettled when Jackson introduced me as his
girlfriend. I couldn't understand why they were so surprised since Jackson had
announced his feelings to the world. I wondered if it was because they didn't
want to believe it. None of them were as visibly hostile as Leila, but I could
feel their disappointment. I couldn't tell if these women were simply wishing
that they had a chance with Jackson, or if they were jealous because they had a
history with him. It was all a little too much to take in, and as a result, I
drank way too much, the French 75s going down like water.

"Shouldn't you be
pacing yourself?" Jackson looked concerned as I drained my latest glass.
Chloe Masters, dubbed America's sweetheart for all her charming roles in
romantic comedies, had just walked away after a last longing look at Jackson.

"This is a party.
Loosen up." The room looked a bit hazy and I knew I was overindulging, but
I didn't know how else to deal with the questions battering inside my head
about Jackson and all these women.

Jackson frowned and
shook his head at a waiter that was passing by with a tray full of drinks. The
waiter obliged and changed direction mid-stride, avoiding me completely.

"Are you kidding
me?" I protested. "I'm old enough to know when I've had enough to
drink."

Jackson's frown
deepened. "Is something bothering you?"

"What could be
bothering me?" I was well aware of my scathing tone but I couldn't stop
myself. "I'm at a fancy party with my famous boyfriend, who apparently has
truckloads of women lusting after him." The corners of my lips turned
down, as the alcohol coursing through my veins made me much bolder than normal.
"Have you slept with all of them?"

Jackson's face hardened
and he leaned down so his mouth was next to my ear. "This isn't the place
to talk about this."

I leaned my head back,
my bravado not flinching under his displeased gaze. "Why not? Afraid to
answer my question?"

Jackson's mouth
tightened but he didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed my arm and I tried to keep
up as he dragged me through the lounge. I smiled, trying to feign enjoyment as
heads turned to look at us. The last thing I wanted was tomorrow's gossip rags
to be dissecting a fight between us. I was expecting Jackson to pull me outside
so I was surprised when he led me onto the dance floor. It was now full of
writhing bodies, as the frantic beat of an electronica song vibrated through
the dance floor.

"I don't want to
dance."

Jackson pulled me close
so the front of our bodies were plastered together, his hands pushing against
the small of my back so that we were intimately entwined.

The music slowed to a
heavier beat, hypnotic and slow as Jackson ignored my protest. He lowered his
head, his lips brushing against my ear as one hand drifted up to stroke my
back. I felt powerless as I swayed with him, the scent of him filling my senses
as the warmth of his body enveloped me. My hands that had been fisted against
his chest relaxed and I slid them up around his neck.

"I'm sorry."
I was mortified by my behavior. Jackson hadn't done anything wrong. I was just
letting my insecurities get in the way. It was hard to be in a room full of
beautiful women and have half of them lusting after your boyfriend. It didn't
help that the majority of these beautiful women were famous and rich. "I
just can't stand the thought of you with all those other women."

"I know,
sweetheart. I know, because I feel the same way when I think of you with
another man."

We let the music wash
over us, our bodies molded together as Jackson's lips traveled from my ear to
my neck. I shivered when his lips grazed the sensitive curve of my neck,
kissing me openmouthed while his tongue tasted me. It was warm on the dance
floor with all the bodies, but they gave us a sense of privacy since it was
hard to see anything through the mass of people. I could feel the ridge of
Jackson's arousal pressing against me and warmth flooded between my legs in
response.

"We need to get
out of here. Otherwise we're going to have an audience while I spread your legs
and fuck you."

It was hard to take in
a full breath at Jackson's words, so I just nodded, feeling the same need
burning inside of me. We broke apart as Jackson took my hand, guiding me
through the crowd. We caught sight of Marc as we navigated through the lounge
and Jackson stopped to speak to him.

"Hey, Marc. We're
leaving. I'll talk to you later."

"No problem. You
actually stayed longer than I thought you would." Marc turned to me with a
bright smile. "It was great meeting you, Emma. Let me know if you ever
need help keeping Jackson in line."

"I will," I
replied with a smile. "It was nice meeting you too."

Craig appeared like
magic when we stepped outside onto the sidewalk. I was wondering how he knew
when to pull up with the SUV when I saw that Jackson was holding his cell
phone. Craig ushered us into the SUV as the remaining press took pictures of us
leaving.

Jackson immediately
raised the partition when we got into the car. "Did you call Craig to tell
him to pull up in front? I didn't even see you use your phone."

"I texted him. We
have a few codes that we use to communicate quickly through texts. It's faster
and we don't have to worry about people overhearing us."

"Oh." I
didn't know what else to say as I looked at Jackson warily. Now that the haze
of passion had cleared, I was wondering if we were going to get into an
argument about my earlier comments. Jackson's jaw looked hard as he turned
towards me, his eyes piercing.

"Do you want to
repeat those questions that you asked me earlier?"

I hesitated, not liking
the expression on his face. I had been hoping that he would be too turned on to
talk about my earlier outburst but I wasn't so lucky. "You can't blame me
for wondering. Those women were practically throwing themselves at you, but in
a very familiar way."

"I can understand
the feeling. I think the only way to resolve this is for both of us to be
forthcoming about what we've been doing while we've been apart."

This was starting to
feel dangerous. Jackson's tension was palpable and I didn't think it was a good
idea to start muddling the present with the past.

"I should have
never brought it up. Let's just forget about it."

"It's too late for
that. Now I can't stop thinking about who you've been with."

"Does it matter?
We're together now."

The determined look on
Jackson's face was unsettling.

"Emma, it will
exorcise some demons for me. I've spent the last five years imagining you with
Sean. Now that I know you weren't together, I'm left wondering what the hell
you were doing while we were apart. And my imagination isn't being kind."

I sighed, knowing that
Jackson's stubbornness wouldn't let the subject drop. I cursed myself for
letting my jealousy mixed with alcohol get me in this uncomfortable spot.
"Let's at least wait until we get back to my apartment."

We rode the rest of the
way to my place in silence. Our earlier desire had vanished, replaced with a
tension that grew as we got closer to my apartment. Jackson's grim expression
didn't make things any better.

The silence continued
as we rode up the elevator and walked to my apartment door. I took a deep
breath after I had unlocked the door and stepped inside, turning to face
Jackson.

"Jackson, I'm
sorry for letting my jealousy get the best of me tonight. Please, let's just
forget about it and enjoy the rest of the night." I raised a hand to
caress his cheek. Jackson's jaw tightened and a muscle started twitching in his
cheek as if he were gritting his teeth.

"Emma, I need to
know."

I dropped my hand as
irritation started to rise. "Why? Why do you need to know? If I'm willing
to drop whatever you did while we were apart, why can't you?" I didn't add
the fact that I was also actively trying to forget what Jackson had done to me
while we were together. "I don't think it's a good idea to talk about past
relationships."

Jackson grasped my
arms. "So there have been past relationships."

I made a sound of
frustration, pushing at his shoulders so that I could put some distance between
us, but it was like a fly batting against a mountain. Jackson's mouth tightened
as he pinned me with his gaze. "I need to know everything about you, Emma.
It's driving me crazy not knowing whether you've been with other men while
we've been apart."

"When did you get
this controlling?" It wasn't a rhetorical question. I genuinely wanted to
know what had happened to Jackson to make him so tyrannical at times. It was as
if the old sweet Jackson had been melded with a new Jackson that needed to control
everything.

"I've spent a lot
of years feeling out of control. I swore that if I ever got you back, I
wouldn't let anything come between us. And right now, the idea of you with
other men is definitely coming between us."

"What do you want
me to say?" I cried out, reaching my breaking point. "That I was a
nun and never let another man touch me? I guess then it's safe to say that you
were celibate all these years. Admirable, considering how many pictures I saw
of you with women draped all over you!"

Jackson's expression
was grim as his eyes bored into me. "Fine, I'll go first. Have I fucked
other women? I have. It's pretty easy when everyone is eager to spread their
legs for me. I took what was offered, although not nearly as much as I could
have. But the real question is, who was I thinking about when I was fucking
those other women? I was imagining your face, your body, pretending that it was
you. It was the only way I could get off. Do you know how many times I've had a
woman slap me because I called her Emma in the middle of sex? It's even worse
when the woman is so desperate to bed me that she doesn't care that I call her
by the wrong name."

Revulsion swept through
me as tears welled in my eyes. What had happened to my beautiful Jackson that
was so full of love and light? He had been replaced with a man that had no
problem telling me how he had fucked me by proxy.