N. Walters: Jackson’s Jewel

She felt his right thigh flex and then the swing began to move. Emerald wrapped her hands around his neck, twining her fingers together as Jackson clasped her hips in his hands and began to guide her.

As the swing moved forward, he dragged her close. As the swing drew back, he held her away from him, his cock sliding out until only the head remained inside. This time when the swing came forward, he drove back in hard and deep. Emerald cried out as fire shot from her core to flood the rest of her body.

She began to work with Jackson, catching the rhythm, anticipating each swing. Using his right foot, he kept the swing moving at a slow and steady pace. Emerald writhed in his arms, panting and moaning as desire spiraled higher and higher within her.

A light sheen of perspiration covered her body and Jackson’s shoulders were slick beneath her hands as she stroked them. She felt the familiar contractions begin deep in her womb. Her inner muscles flexing and relaxing. Getting tighter. Tighter.

Jackson slipped one of his hands between her legs and stroked her swollen clitoris. That was all it took to drive her over the edge. Her hips jerked, slamming forward, driving him deep and hard. Contractions rippled through her core, squeezing his cock tight.

She felt the flood of his seed as it filled her, the hot jets of semen pumping through his shaft and into her body. Her inner muscles tightened around him, wringing moans from both of them. Aftershocks were still pulsing through her when she collapsed forward.

Jackson’s strong arms came around her. There was almost a desperate feel in the way he held her so tight that she could barely breathe. Wrapped in each other’s arms, neither of them spoke. As the minutes ticked by, Emerald could feel the closeness slipping away and she didn’t know what to do to hold it.

Knowing she couldn’t stay like this forever, she slowly pushed herself upright. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as the move made his still semi-erect cock flex within her.

Jackson swore and eased himself from her. “We didn’t use a condom.” His voice was flat.

Flustered now that the heat of passion was past, Emerald grabbed the edges of her dress together and began to button them. “It’s okay. I’m on the Pill and I’ve never had sex without a condom before so you don’t have to worry about disease.” She fastened several buttons, not looking at him. It was cowardly, but she didn’t want to face him until she was covered again.

“I’m clean too. I’ve never had sex without a condom. I knew it felt too damn good.”

She stopped what she was doing and scrambled out of his lap. His hands tightened briefly and for a split second she thought he might pull her back into his lap. But the moment passed and he let her go.

His eyes tracked down her body as she stood and she realized that the bottom of her dress was still askew, revealing her damp, glistening pubic hair. Twitching the dress closed, she fastened a few more of buttons, ignoring the one that was missing near the bottom. When she looked back at him, he’d just finished fastening his jeans. She felt hot, sticky and uncomfortable, but Jackson barely had a hair out of place. Leaning back against the swing with his shirt off, he appeared cool and composed.

“There’s nothing for you to worry about.” The heat from his eyes had faded, replaced by the cool, closed expression he’d had when she’d first arrived. “So where does this leave us?” She locked her knees and fisted her hands in her skirt to hide their trembling.

His eyes narrowed as he pushed out of the swing. She took a step back. A muscle twitched beneath his eye as he stared at her. “Right where we started.” He bent down and snagged his T-shirt, turning it right side out before pulling it back over his head. “It was fun, Emerald. It was great. But we both know that your life isn’t here on this farm. Your work, your life is in New York.”

Emerald felt curiously detached as she watched him, a peculiar numbness coming over her. Her heart felt as if it had shattered into little pieces. He wasn’t going to ask her to stay. Didn’t want her to stay. She’d gone into this knowing there were no promises or guarantees, but God how it hurt.

It wasn’t his fault that she’d fallen in love with him, but he didn’t love her. Like he’d said, they’re both adults and they had a good time together. Now it was over. She wouldn’t make a scene even if it killed her. He’d saved her life for heaven’s sake. The least she could do was get out of his life and let him rebuild what her coming had shattered.

“I’ll pack my things and go.”

Jackson nodded. “That’s probably for the best.” He opened his mouth as if he might say more, but closed it again. The muscles in his jaw were tight and his hands were fisted as he stalked away from her. He stopped at the bottom of the steps and for a second she hoped and prayed that he might turn around and come back to her. One word from him and she was ready to admit that she loved him and wanted to stay.

Tension surrounded them. Emerald could almost feel an invisible thread between them, holding them together. Then it snapped as Jackson thumped down the steps and hurried across the yard. He didn’t look back.

She watched him until he disappeared from sight, swallowed up by the orchard. Tears filled her eyes, slowly overflowing and trailing down her cheeks. Swiping at them, she shuffled into the house. The room she’d stayed in had escaped most of the damage from the kitchen fire, but it had been cleaned and aired. Emerald yanked her bag out of the closet and began to stuff her clothing into it. It didn’t take her long. Her laptop was gone, destroyed in the explosion, but she’d get another. She still had her sketchbook with all her original drawings and ideas. Not that she’d ever forget the farm or the man who lived here.

Dragging her bags out to her car, she threw them into the trunk and slammed it shut. She went into the house one last time and walked through it. Standing in the doorway to Jackson’s room, she stared at the chair where he’d held her so tenderly while he’d fed her. Her eyes strayed to the bed and her feet moved forward as if some unseen force were propelling her.

She sat down on the bed and inhaled, dragging Jackson’s unique outdoorsy scent into her lungs. A shirt was tossed onto the end of the bed and she picked it up, bringing it to her nose and sniffing. It smelled like him. Standing, she tucked the shirt beneath her arm and left. Her bare feet made no sound on the stairs as she padded down to the main floor. She ignored the fresh, new kitchen as she strode through it, didn’t stop to admire the brand-new maple trestle table situated in the center of the room. Tears pricked her eyes, but she wiped them away.

She was alive and her stalker had been caught. That was all that mattered. She’d shared an incredible few weeks with an exceptional man and now it was over. It was time to move on with her life.

Tilting her chin up, she walked out of the farmhouse and closed the door behind her. Stopping long enough to snag her sandals, she hurried to her car without looking at the porch swing. Emerald slid into the front seat of her car, shut the door and turned on the ignition in one smooth motion. She backed the car away from the house and headed down the road, refusing to look in the rearview mirror as she drove away.

Jackson watched from the edge of the tree line as Emerald left the house for the last time and got into her car. His fingers dug into the trunk of the tree to keep from running to her and dragging her back inside. He didn’t want her to go, but he had no right to keep her here.

Their relationship had been intense because of the circumstances that had brought them together. But he knew that her life was not here. She was a city girl, reared in a famous family. Her family and her career were in New York. He was a farm boy through and through and could never be happy anywhere else.