by S. H. Kolee
"Are you ready?" Jackson asked, studying my face. I put on a bright smile, determined to enjoy tonight.
"I'm ready."
Craig was waiting beside the car and he jumped to grab the door as Jackson opened it. Jackson stepped out first and turned around to offer his hand. I took it gratefully as cameras started going off like crazy and photographers started yelling out our names.
"Jackson! Emma! Over here!"
"Emma, give me a smile!"
"Jackson, does this mean you and Emma are back together?"
"Emma, what did Jackson do to win you back?"
Jackson guided me past the photographers with a relaxed smile but I could feel the tension radiating from his body. I couldn't imagine enduring these personal questions and rabid attention for years, and I understood why Jackson got sick and tired of it. But I knew he was making an effort to play along with the press because of our situation.
"Gentlemen," he said smoothly with a wide smile, "I'm happy to report that Emma is giving me another chance and we're back together."
"Emma!" A man with a protruding potbelly leaned close to me, a camera clutched in his hands. He was so close that I could smell the odor of garlic on his warm breath. "How does it feel to be with one of Hollywood's leading men? Is dating Jackson Reynard a dream come true? Are you intimidated by all the leading ladies he's been with?"
Jackson frowned and made a move towards the man, but I stopped Jackson with a hand on his arm. I turned back to the man, wanting to dismiss him but not able to ignore his questions. "Dating Jackson Reynard is a dream come true, but I believed that five years ago, when we first met and he was still making a name for himself. I'm dating the man, not the image, and Jackson has always been a man to be in awe of. As for other women he's dated, all I care about is today. And today Jackson is with me."
Jackson pulled me close, away from the questioning man, and tipped my chin up with his forefinger, planting a hard kiss on my lips. I was aware of dozens of flashes going off, the crowd in a frenzy over our open affection.
Jackson grinned at me when he pulled back and I rolled my eyes at his smug expression. "Was that necessary?"
"I've decided that I'm going to enjoy myself at the party. That means I'm going to kiss you whenever and wherever the mood strikes me. And the mood seems to strike me an awful lot. It's not my fault you're irresistible."
I was mollified by Jackson's answer and let him guide me past more shouted questions that I ignored. We had to stand in front of a backdrop that Jackson called a step and repeat, posing together for photographers that were yelling our names and asking us to look in their direction. I spotted quite a few celebrities making their way to the step and repeat, and even though I wasn't usually overly excited by fame, it was undeniably thrilling to see these people in real life.
It was a relief when we passed through security and entered the cavernous lounge. It was dimly light with house music pumping through the sound system, although it was subdued enough that you could have a conversation. Hydra was separated into two sections, the first section being much more sedate with sleek sofas and low tables where people were congregating. An impressive bar made out of glass and chrome snaked along the wall of the entire section, manned by several bartenders that were attending to the guests' needs. The second part was more like a club, with a dance floor flashing with strobe lights and a DJ on a platform. There were a few dancers already gyrating on the dance floor, although most of the guests had opted to mingle in the lounge.
"Jackson!" I heard someone call out. We both turned towards the voice and I saw Marc Bradley striding towards us. I couldn't help blinking when I saw him up close. Marc was devastatingly handsome with a shock of blond hair and startling blue eyes. I could imagine him playing the archangel Gabriel with his chiseled features and charming smile. Presently, he was slapping Jackson on the shoulder, looking more human than angelic. "Thanks for coming. I know you hate these types of things."
Jackson quirked his mouth, not denying it. "I owe you one for getting me out of that scrape in Burbank." He wrapped his arm around my waist and glanced down at me. "Emma, this is Marc."
Marc's eyes lit up as he turned to me. "Emma, nice to meet you." I was flummoxed when he gave me a sly wink. I couldn't believe Marc Bradley was winking at me. "I've been reading a lot about you these days. I never thought I'd see Jackson falling all over himself because of a woman."
I smiled and accepted Marc's greeting of a kiss on both cheeks. "I wouldn't go as far as that, but I appreciate the sentiment."
Marc raised an eyebrow. "Don't be so quick to dismiss it. There are a lot of women wondering what you have that they don't, since they weren't able to snare Jackson."
"Marc," Jackson warned, with a slight shake of his head. Marc looked chastened and covered it up with a broad smile.
"Never mind about that. We need to get you two drinks." Marc caught the attention of a waiter carrying a tray of drinks and handed one to each of us. I took a tentative sip as Marc explained it was a French 75, the house specialty cocktail, made from gin, sugar, lemon juice and champagne. It was a dangerous drink, so delicious that you forgot it contained alcohol.
"What made you decide to open up a lounge?" I asked for lack of a better question.
"I've always wanted a place where I could hang out with my friends. A buddy and I opened up a lounge a year ago in L.A. and it's doing really well, so we decided to branch out into New York." Marc smiled wryly. "I tried to get Jackson to invest in Hydra since he spends so much time in New York, but he said he didn't want to shell out money just to have a place to hang out. He thinks that actors opening up bars and restaurants are acts of frivolous indulgence. Even though I told him the returns would be through the roof."
Jackson smiled drily. "I don't remember giving that explanation. In fact, I don't remember giving an explanation at all. I believe my exact words were, 'Hell no.'"
"I'm an actor. I can glean a lot of meaning out of two words."
I watched the interplay between Jackson and Marc, fascinated by this glimpse into Jackson's world. Even though I had tried to steer clear of any news of Jackson throughout the years, it was difficult to block out everything. I had seen pictures of him with female celebrities draped on his arm, rumors about who he was dating and who he was sleeping with. I had tried to block these things from my mind since Jackson and I had rekindled our relationship, not wanting the past to affect our present. However, with Marc's mention of all the women jealous of my relationship with Jackson, questions came rushing to the forefront of my mind. I wondered how many women Jackson had dated during the years we had been apart, if he had been serious about anyone. Despite his insistence that he hadn't been able to forget me, I didn't really believe that meant he didn't routinely have a warm body next to him in bed.
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. Thos
e 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."
