Reaching For Emeralds

by Lacee Hightower

  The only complication that I dreaded more than anything was telling Joslyn. I’d wanted to be honest with her all along, but instead ended up doing just the opposite. Out of town the last two days, she was coming home tomorrow. My best friend, I prayed it would stay that way after everything I needed to tell her.

  “What sounds good? I was kinda thinking Chinese … or tacos,” Jana said, spreading on a thick layer of light pink lip gloss.

  “Either sounds perfect, though maybe not so great for the dress I planned on wearing to dinner tonight.” I sent Jackson a quick text.

  Just reminding you I have that bank dinner tonight at Culpepper’s. I was thinking that afterwards, maybe we could…play. I’m missing you. And I want to learn.

  Shoulder to shoulder, Jana and I left for lunch, my mood better than it had been for as long as I could remember. As much as guilt still filled me in a sense, I also felt that my dad might be okay with this. Rather than trying to decipher his final words after reading them a dozen times, I was finally realizing the fact that he was guilty as charged. Maybe one day, I’d understand the choices he made.

  “Does Moon Wok sound okay?” Jana asked, the dinging of my phone a sure sign of Jackson’s reply to my text ten minutes ago. My body shuddered at thoughts of mentioning the word ‘play’. I craved the burn of his hand or crop against my butt again. The strange sensation was erotic and sensual, something I could see becoming one of my favorite diversions.

  “We could also try to only eat soup and maybe an eggroll, but Jesus, the Spicy Mongolian Beef is calling my name.”

  “Sounds perfect,” I replied, reaching for my cell as we walked two blocks to the Chinese food restaurant, lunch secondary to what I was suddenly craving.

  Play you say? I can hardly wait, sweetheart. For now, imagine my mouth moving up your thigh. BTW, I also have a business dinner with Seth. It just so happens we’re going to Culpepper’s as well. His choice.

  His response made my stomach flutter as we reached the front entrance of the Asian food eatery all the bank employees raved above. Suddenly, I was nervous and fidgety. And turned on. I wasn’t sure I could get even one bite down.

  “My treat, ladies. I hear the Mongolian Beef is outstanding.” The gentleman behind us stared up at the large overhead menu, his eyes a deep dark-brown, almost black. He looked foreign. And wealthy.

  And way creepy.

  “Awesome. Thanks,” Jana said before I could refuse his offer.

  The aroma of spicy Chinese food suddenly seemed revolting and I didn’t quite know why. The man had simply paid for our lunch. He was nothing more than a gentleman attempting politeness, but the hair on my neck was standing by the simple sound of his voice.

  Why was I so edgy?

  ****

  I slammed on the brakes in the Culpepper parking lot, guaranteed to be the last employee to make an entrance. Why I’d chosen this particular day to test a never-used flat iron, three burns later, I finally got my hair to wave the way I’d intended. I didn’t do late. This was embarrassing. And downright rude.

  In the future, I’d stick to my old faithful, the dated flat iron that I’d definitely gotten a great bang for my buck when I paid only twenty-five dollars on Amazon over two years ago. Still working perfectly, despite all the sticky hair product residue on the barrel, it was a lot more user-friendly than the one I’d just attempted.

  Seconds from spewing whatever was left in my stomach from lunch, I tugged at the hem of my blue dress, smoothing everything out as I walked through the door of the upscale steak house, waiting on the guaranteed stares from co-workers I was still getting to know.

  “Layla, over here.” Jana’s voice cascaded through the large open room. “I saved you a seat.” I smiled and nervously waved at everybody. William’s stares were uncomfortable and not unnoticed by Jana. He didn’t even try hiding the way he looked down my torso while I stumbled to pull out my chair. Typical man.

  “He just checked you out big time,” Jana whispered in my ear. “You look hot in that dress.”

  “Oh, hush,” I answered. “He was probably wondering why I was late after he let us all go home early to get ready.”

  “Um huh,” she grinned.

  My nerves were on high speed as I crossed and uncrossed my legs, anticipating what I’d be doing a little later and trying to focus on the present situation instead of the evening planned with Jackson.

  “Now that we’re all here and settled, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for making this day what it is.” William held up his wine glass and we all responded with a toast. Fifteen minutes passed before he finished his speech of appreciation. I guess I should have respected the fact that he cared enough to spend this kind of money on monthly get-togethers just to keep everyone’s spirits high, as he called it.

  Tonight, I couldn’t care less.

  All I wanted to be appreciating right now was the long, thick-veined cock between Jackson Shipman’s equally hard legs, along with his mesmerizing eyes and miraculous-working hands and tongue.

  Two ladies approached forty-five minutes later, carrying large trays of food and serving plate after plate of juicy steaks and gigantic, butter-flowing baked potatoes.

  “Prime Rib, medium?” I nodded as the young lady placed my food in front of me.

  “Dig in, everyone. Let’s enjoy some of the finest steak Dallas, Texas has to offer.” William took another long drink of wine, winking at me.

  “Your boss wants to fuck you.”

  Sweet Jesus! My napkin fell from my lips to my lap as Jackson’s voice filled my ears. I spun around to meet the beautiful, but angry stare of my kinky, beautiful bastard.

  “Hi.” I moved my napkin to the side of my plate, twenty-eight wide eyes focusing on me … and the District Attorney.

  “William Ward.” William was immediately standing beside an angry-looking Jackson, offering him a polite handshake. “It’s nice to see you, Mr. Shipman. I wasn’t aware you and Layla were acquainted.”

  Holy hell. This was uncomfortable.

  “Likewise, William. I also wasn’t aware that you had your eyes on my girlfriend.”

  Jesus Jackson!

  I gulped back a strangled breath, which was suddenly way too rapid. William returned to his chair, his gaze going from Jackson, straight back to me, along with every other set of wide eyes at the table.

  “Pardon us for a few minutes.” Jackson’s eyes blazed. “I just need a quick word with Layla.” He held out his hand, helping me from my chair.

  Jesus! And Mary!

  “Of course,” William said.

  “What the hell, Jackson? I work with these people.” My gut twisted, staring up at an obviously upset Jackson as we walked outside the restaurant. Fortunately the outdoor seating was empty, considering Jackson’s angry temperament.

  “The man wants what belongs to me.”

  “Jackson, William is my boss. Nothing more.”

  “Boss or Prince of England, he still wants between your legs. And that’s unacceptable.”

  “Why are you acting like this? I’m so embarrassed now. I barely know these people.”

  He dipped his head between my breasts, his breath short-winded. “I’ve never been so miserable in my life, Layla. For fuck’s sake, I can’t even do my job.”

  “Why are you miserable? What’s happened?” I threaded my fingers through the edges of his hair, leaning over and kissing his now sweat-beaded forehead.

  “Something has happened, Layla.” For what seemed like long minutes, a tense stillness choked the conversation. His brown eyes were weighty and biting. He lifted his hands and placed them on top of mine. “You, Layla. You’ve happened. These feelings… I don’t know what to do with them. I’m growing to need you … and this. Can’t we just please get out of here?”

  “Jackson, I can’t just leave. William spends a lot of money on these gatherings. He expects us here.”

  “Do you think I give a fuck about his money? Or his expectations? He wants you.
And he doesn’t get that privilege, sweetheart,” he snapped. His demeanor was back to his normal controlling self, his angry jaw tensing.

  “What makes you think he wants me?” I slid my arms around his waist, my fingers trailing down over the curve of his rock-hard ass.

  “I’m a man, Layla. I know when someone wants to fuck you,” he breathed. He reached for my cheeks, tilting my head back. “And I can assure you that your boss indeed wants inside you.”

  “You’re silly. And I have to get back in there Jackson. I need my job.” I stood on my tip toes, giving him a quick kiss and lingering against his lips. “Give me thirty minutes to finish up,” I whispered. “We can be naked in a little over an hour.” I smiled and gave him another quick kiss, feeling the light twitch of his growing erection.

  “Now go,” I said teasingly. “I’ll be with you every night in only a few short days. Just think. You’ll get to see me and my bed hair every morning. Be around me when I have cramps and become demonic. I may even be forced to send you out for a tampon run. You may not like living with me after you’ve been around me when I’m hormonal,” I teased.

  He moaned against my mouth, his satisfying sigh making me want to ignore this whole dinner and crawl up against his warm body for hours. “Fucking hell, Lay. That only makes me harder. I want nothing more than to take you over this table and fuck you senseless in front of everybody so they’ll know you’re mine and you walk away sore and wet with my release between your legs when you return to William.”

  “Go enjoy your dinner, Jackson. I’ll see you soon,” I whispered.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jackson

  I woke to an empty glass and bottle of scotch as I lay stretched out on my bed. The clock showed 9:30.

  Fucking hell!

  Where was she? She said an hour. Nearly two had passed. Lying down for a short rest to clear my head, no idea it would evolve into an actual nap. I spent the next few minutes taking a quick shower and dressing in nothing but black sweats, my anxiety building by the minute.

  Was she okay?

  Dread filled me as I thought of Agli and his earlier threat.

  Remember, Mr. DA. An eye for an eye.

  Goddammit, I needed to know she was safe. I needed her here beside me.

  Nearly ten o’clock, I was pacing the floor, holding onto my cell phone like it was a lifeline, fighting the urge to call her again. Reaching in the refrigerator for a bottle of water, the garage door opened.

  Thank Christ!

  “Hi,” she smiled, happy as a fucking clam on crack. Her cheerful voice only pissed me off more, my palm itching to redden her ass. Or worse.

  “How was the dinner? It was obviously enjoyable. It’s ten fucking o’clock, Layla.” She was still smiling, but I could see the instant mood change in her eyes.

  “I know. I hurried. Time just got away from me, Jackson.”

  “Really? Time just got away? Or maybe your boss wouldn’t get away? Which is it, princess?” Jesus, I was spitting bullets. Thankful she was safe and sound, I was still mad as fuck. Her wormy boss wanted his dick inside her and I couldn’t shake off the anger at the thought of that. Plus, she was supposed to be here well over an hour ago. Lack of communication wasn’t an option.

  Her eyes were wide and anxious. “Jackson.” She traced my jawline with her finger, knowing damn well how angry I was. “I’m sorry I’m late, but I’m here now, baby. I just didn’t want to be rude. Can’t we just have a nice evening like we planned?”

  A nice evening? Really? Right now all I wanted was my hand against her ass, watching it turn a bright shade of pink.

  “So you think you want to play, Layla? You’re still anxious to learn how a true alpha reacts when his woman has deceived him? Lied to him, and generally pissed him off by flaunting her body in that damn dress in front of a man that clearly wants to unload in her pussy? Are you sure about that?” Her eyes were lost in thought. Baffled, as if she didn’t understand where my anger stemmed from.

  She’d motherfucking learn. My heart couldn’t take being that scared again.

  “Okay … yes, Jackson.” She blinked, distress in her eyes.

  “I was worried, Layla. Out of my goddamn mind. You don’t understand.”

  My throat closed up. What I needed, what I wanted to say were words I couldn’t speak. She didn’t understand. She had no idea the pictures playing in my head when she wasn’t responding. She could have had the respect to send a quick text if she was going to be late. Wasn’t that what people did out of utter respect?

  Where was her fucking courtesy?

  Was this how high her opinion was of me?

  Her eyes dropped. “I’m really sorry, Jackson. I’ll be more considerate in the future. Now, can we just try and have that nice evening?”

  Nice? I wasn’t sure if what I had planned could be considered nice. “Of course, Layla,” I answered, reaching for her hand and hoping like hell I could erase the mental image of the fucker William’s eyes roaming across her ass.

  Her lips parted, her tongue brushing her full, luscious lower lip. No longer having a playroom like I’d once had, due to two young boys in my life that meant way more, for a moment my imagination ran wild with how I’d react if I did.

  ****

  The minute we walked through the bedroom, Layla turned to face me, her expression guarded.

  “Do you trust me?” I asked, leaning over and kissing her, her hands against my chest that seemed to be shaking.

  “Yes, of course I trust you, Jackson.”

  I reached for her hair, pushing it over her shoulder as I eased the zipper to the blue dress I’d bought, knowing how beautiful she’d look in it. Her skin felt like silk, her breath shifting as I lowered the straps to her lacy, ivory-colored bra, running my hands over her pebbled nipples.

  “Umm,” she whimpered, her head falling against her shoulder so tenderly while her soft hair brushed my rough hands. God, she was so beautiful. So graceful and feminine in everything she did.

  “You’re stunning, Layla. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

  “I just want to please you,” she whispered. “It’s all I’ve thought about all day.”

  “And please me you will, sweetheart.”

  She blinked up at me and nodded, my cock stirring to life. Deep in my gut I knew she wasn’t fucking around with her boss. This had nothing to do with him, but everything to do with the one person I couldn’t control. Carlos Agli. Tonight would be about control and mastery, something I wasn’t asking, but demanding.

  “Drop to your knees, sweetheart.”

  Her head dropped as she knelt at my knees, her long dark hair falling over her shoulders. I slipped out of my sweats.

  “Look at me, Layla.” Quick to lift her head without qualm, her eyes widened as I pumped my rigid shaft in front of her.

  “Take me in your mouth.”

  She opened, taking me between her delicate hands as I slid the wide head of my bobbing dick between her lips. Swirling her tongue down the length of my shaft, I tugged at her hair, urging her to take me deeper.

  “Jesus. Feels good, baby.” My head fell back as she fondled me, my hands tugging even tighter at the thick waves of her hair. I gave her a small grunt of approval, pushing deeper, quickening my pace. “Take me all the way, Layla.” I knew she couldn’t, yet she widened her mouth, allowing me to slide in deeper. Her eyes filled with tears as I bumped the back of her throat, but she kept going, leaving her pretty eyes on mine. I backed off a little, stroking the soft tresses of her hair.

  “Never scare me like that again.” I thrust again as she swallowed, wrestling to take me deeper. “No more bullshit, Layla. Tell me you understand.” She nodded, her mouth wide around me as saliva crept from the sides of her lips. She tipped her head back, her green, watery eyes gazing up at me like a perfect angel. My balls tightened as I unloaded in her mouth.

  “Christ,” I murmured, her hand still pumping my emptying shaft.

  “I hope I d
id that okay, Jackson.” She wiped the back of her wrist over her swollen lips.

  “Better than okay, sweetheart. You’re a natural.”

  She shrugged. “A natural? What does that mean exactly?”

  “It just means you’re compliant. Submissive.” I slid my hand up her arm, stopping at her shoulder before leaning over and kissing the delicate curve of her soft neck. “Next, I’m going to spank you and then fuck you hard like our first time.”

  Silent, she only whimpered, shivering from the low temperature in the bedroom, or fear, or quite possibly both. I walked toward the oversized armoire, opening the top door and removing a ten-inch, custom-made, beaded squid whip. The strands were made of a thin PVC molded into a beaded pattern, which was more severe than the flat version. It would definitely sting, but it wasn’t extreme unless a person made it that way, and I had no intentions of hurting her. I never would.

  Her eyes changed as she glanced at the whip. I wanted nothing more than to wipe away the small look of fear and just hold her and make long, tender love. But she’d scared me in a way I’d never experienced. She needed to understand that wasn’t acceptable.

  I took her hips and brought her in close, running my hands down the front of her thighs and then back up the inside and over her slick folds. I sucked in a long breath, her essence the sweetest of candy.

  “You know I’ll never give you more than you can take. I’ll also never let another man touch you, Layla. That includes your boss.” For a long minute, I stared at her. Her eyes, her breasts, the long length of her body, the feelings I had for this woman bringing out emotions of caring, protecting, shielding and maybe something deeper.

  “Now … come here, baby.” I brought her against me and kissed her, my dick swelling again as she moaned against my lips. “Just tell me to stop, Lay. If you want this to end, you know you only have to say the word. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered.