by Zuri Day
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Shay’s head snapped around toward the sound.
Mere seconds of distraction. Just what the construction owner ordered. He pushed Diamond away from Shay while simultaneously reaching for the gun. His forward momentum caused the men to fall to the floor. Jackson tried to grab the weapon. Shay tried to fire it. They rolled and Jackson was on top. Diamond stood frozen, her eyes glued to Jackson’s hand wrapped around Shay’s hand, both gripping the gun. Call the police! But she couldn’t move. Jackson almost had the gun away from Shay. You’ve almost got it. Come on, baby!
They rolled again. Now Shay was on top.
Oh, no!
The battle was for the aim of the gun—Shay pushing it down toward Jackson’s head, Jackson forcing Shay’s arm to the sky.
Finally, Diamond remembered how to move her legs. She ran to the phone. But wait. Is that a set of golf clubs over in the corner? Acting on pure instinct, Diamond grabbed an iron and ran over to the fighting men. Jackson snatched the gun. A millisecond later Diamond channeled Tiger Woods and swung like she was trying to drop a hole in one from three hundred yards. Shay went down. Jackson jumped up and trained the gun on Shay. Even if his former homeboy had some fight left in him, he’d have to come to first.
Jackson rushed over to Diamond. “Baby.” He hugged her tight against him even as he kept one eye trained on the non-moving hump lying on the floor. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
Diamond couldn’t talk past the lump in her throat. She buried her head into Jackson’s chest, relishing the feel of him, the smell of him, the sound of his heartbeat.
Footsteps filled the silence. Dexter burst into the room. “Diamond!”
Donovan was right behind him. He took in the scene, most notably, Jackson and Diamond alive and well. The man on the floor, not so much. Shay moaned and Jackson immediately put Diamond behind him. He trained the gun on Shay’s head. “Don’t move.”
More footsteps. The police. “Hands up! Get down on the ground. Down on the ground!”
A second officer spoke up. “That’s Jackson Wright. He owns this place.”
The other officers looked around, confused.
“Him.” Jackson nodded toward Shay as he placed down the gun and leaned against his desk. The weight of what almost happened bore down on him, body and soul. “His name is Shay Thomas and he just tried to kill us. He’s the one you want.”
The police officers surrounded Shay and escorted him out of the building to the tune of his Miranda rights. Neither Jackson nor Diamond saw him leave. They only had eyes for each other.
Chapter 36
It was a little after midnight when the limousine carrying Jackson, Diamond, Dexter and Donovan turned into the grand entrance of the Drake Estate. In just twenty-four short hours the grounds had gone from a Thanksgiving haven to a winter wonderland. After four hours in a cramped police station, no one noticed. Rudolph with his red nose and his posse could have sideswiped them with Santa drinking Drake’s finest, and they wouldn’t have noticed. It had been one hell of a night.
“Baby,” Diamond said, in yet another attempt to shift away from Jackson. “I’m getting a crick in my neck.”
Jackson loosened his grip yet kept an arm around her shoulder. He’d barely been a hair’s breadth away from her since Shay was taken away in cuffs. As if she were a mirage, a puff of smoke that would disappear if he let her go.
“Parents are here,” Donovan said matter-of-factly when the front of their mansion came into view.
Dexter sighed. “Damn.”
“I told them not to end their vacation!” Diamond said, pounding her fist on the car’s soft leather.
“You know good and well Daddy wasn’t going to hear what he heard, and see what he probably saw on TV, and keep chilling in Cabo.”
They were bum-rushed as soon as they walked through the door.
“Diamond!” Genevieve rushed over to hug her daughter. Good luck while said jewel was glued to Jackson’s side.
“Baby girl,” Donald said, his voice gruff with emotion. He joined his wife and hugged his daughter, or tried to, anyway. But he actually hugged part of Diamond and all of Jackson’s arm. “Do you mind?”
Jackson released her. Reluctantly. He stepped away a full six inches, saw an opening and placed a hand on top of Diamond’s head. Yes, he did.
“Baby, we were so worried about you. The news said that the man was armed!” While Jackson’s clout had managed to keep Diamond’s name out of the story, all of the other details had somehow found their way onto “breaking news.”
Donald gave a final squeeze and stepped back. “The only thing that matters is that you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, Daddy.”
Warm and fuzzy left the room when Donald turned to Jackson. “You put my daughter in harm’s way. She could have lost her life tonight because of whatever you’re involved in.”
“Dad, no—”
“Baby, it’s all right,” Jackson said, pulling up to his full six foot five while looking Donald dead in the eye. “I want to talk to your father.”
“Good,” Donald said. Clearly, this wasn’t his first time at the rodeo. “We need to discuss this man-to-man.”
“I agree.” Jackson and Donald turned to leave the room.
Two strong men. Diamond envisioned another rumble. “Dad, wait.”
“Let them go,” Genevieve whispered. “They’ll be all right.”
Forty-five agonizing minutes later, Jackson rejoined Diamond, who was now alone in the great room. She rushed him as soon as he entered the room. “What happened? What did you say to my father?”
“I told him what happened.” He reached for her hand.
Diamond held back. “Where are we going?”
Jackson sighed, the weight of what had almost happened, what he’d almost lost, still pressing him down. “I also told him that we’d see everyone in the morning. I’m tired, love. But I need you with me. Let’s go home.”
The average person wouldn’t have noticed, but Jackson was still alert enough to discern the additions to security detail around his home: the camera attached to a phone pole a mile away and above his gate, a small red beam indicating a motion detector so sensitive that it would know when Molly Mosquito went to visit Nicholas Gnat. Once inside his estate, security was visible. Two guards were posted just inside the gate. Jackson knew that four more cased the perimeter of the ten-acre estate.
Diamond looked at the guards, and then at Jackson. “Is this necessary?”
Jackson shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But I’m not going to take a chance of you being endangered again. Got it?”
Diamond nodded.
They entered the sanctuary of Jackson’s home and immediately felt more peaceful. As beautiful as the Drake Estate was, there was something about being near the water, hearing the waves crash against the shore, that soothed and comforted like no other sound. Diamond took off her shoes and stifled a yawn.
“Tired, baby?”
“After subduing a killer, being grilled by the police and then, even worse, Genevieve, and now seeing that it is 3:00 a.m.?” Diamond channeled the dry sarcasm her mother was known for to perfection. “Yeah, a little bit.”
Jackson laughed, a sound that earlier in the evening he would have doubted he’d hear again. “I deserved that. I’m tired, too. But do you think you could take a shower with me?”
They entered the master suite, shed their clothes and were soon sitting on the marble bench in Jackson’s massive shower. Water poured over them as they sat hugging each other, thankful to do so, thankful to be alive. As exhausted as she was, Diamond would have thought herself incapable of getting excited for physical pleasure, but Jackson’s roaming hands were like a caffeine shot an
d within minutes he had her body humming like a bird.
He kissed her, softly, lovingly, on her temple—his favorite place besides his other favorite place—ear and cheek. One hand kneaded the back of her neck while the other sought and found an already taut nipple. He tweaked it, and at the same time he slanted his mouth over Diamond’s and demanded entry with his tongue. Soon the twirling and sucking began—hot, wet—as if tasting each other for the first time. Strong arms enveloped Diamond as Jackson, spurred on by the knowledge that he’d almost lost this piece of paradise, deepened the kiss. His tongue plunged to the depths of her mouth, seemingly to the depths of her soul. He hardened immediately and completely, his engorged shaft now tickling Diamond’s thighs.
She opened them, wanting him as much as he wanted her. Wanting to fill his width and length inside her, wanting him to stroke away the fear the day had brought and memories of what she’d almost lost. She wanted to be owned by him, claimed by him, branded by him. She circled her hand around his dick. “This,” she whispered into his mouth. “I want this.”
On the way over, Jackson had planned a tender scene of seduction. Those plans flew out the window as his body, hot and shaking with wanting, took over his mind. He needed to be inside of this woman, now. Needed to be connected. Needed to belong. Obviously Diamond was thinking the same thing because she stood, positioned herself over his happy stick and slowly, oh…so…slowly, sank down on his heat. She groaned at how fully he filled her, even as her hips welcomed this awesome intrusion by swirling around and around as she rose up and down, over and again. She bent over, placed her hands on the floor, giving Jackson a bird’s-eye view of her backside. The position heightened both of their pleasures, and Jackson squeezed her sweet cheeks as he intensified the ride. It was a beautiful symphony—the water, the rhythm, the delicious friction. It was too much, it wasn’t enough. Jackson wanted, no, needed to be closer, deeper. With one final swat of her butt, he lifted her off him, stood and picked her up. Diamond’s legs immediately went around his waist, giving him unobstructed access to his destination. He placed her against the wall and, looking deep into her eyes with more love than Diamond thought possible from one being, sank into her yet again. His hips and tongue were a concerto as they matched rhythms: swirling, grinding, searching for the innermost of places, that place untouched by anyone else. That place that neither had ever felt before. He licked her neck, long, wet strokes, and the combination of that and the relentless pounding happening below was a decadent combination that made Diamond cry out with joy. Jackson moaned, burying himself to the hilt and leaning them both against the wall to catch their breaths.
But he wasn’t finished. He was just getting started.
Chapter 37
Still joined, he walked them over to one of the immense showerheads. “Hang on, baby,” he said, when they stood directly beneath it. She grabbed ahold of the showerhead, he placed her legs over his shoulder, and there, totally exposed and at his mercy, Diamond began the ride of her life. Grabbing her hips, Jackson took over, became the maestro of their lovemaking as yet again he yielded thrust after powerful thrust, rotating her hips in time to his rhythm. Mewling sounds came to Diamond’s ears. Belatedly, she realized it was she who was making them. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and let Jackson own her, brand her, love her with an intensity she’d never thought possible. They climaxed together.
“Jackson!”
“Diamond!”
He eased her down, sat her on the bench. Washed her. Kissed her. Hugged her.
And still, he hadn’t had enough of Diamond Drake.
After making quick work of his own shower, they walked into his suite. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
She realized she was starving.
“Come on. Let’s see if Chef left anything tasty downstairs.”
They raided the kitchen and soon returned to the master suite with Kobe roast beef sandwiches and a bottle of wine. When Diamond looked at the label she chided Jackson. “You’d better be glad you have mad lovemaking skills, otherwise you’d be in trouble for patronizing the competition!” Her words were only mildly serious; for the most part the neighboring vineyards were friendly and their wine up to snuff.
Jackson uncorked the bottle of 2010 Thornton Tempranillo and filled their glasses. They ate and recalled the evening.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been as frightened as when I rounded the corner and saw that gun to your head.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been as frightened as when I felt it at my head.”
“I’m so sorry, baby.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Jackson. I think that Shay Thomas has had it out for you a long time, maybe even when you thought he was your friend. The look of hate that I saw in his eyes…” Diamond shuddered. “I’ve never been that close to pure evil.”
Jackson smiled. “You held your own, though. I’ve been calling you a BAP but I had that shit twisted. Underneath those designer duds and painted nails was a ride-or-die chick.” Diamond swatted him playfully. Jackson laughed and took her in his arms. “My ride-or-die chick,” he whispered, as he placed kisses all over her face. “I love you, girl.”
Soon their hunger for each other replaced their need of food. They finished their glasses of wine. Jackson lit a fire in the marble fireplace that anchored the suite. Diamond lay down on the faux fur in front of it. She sighed in contentment as she watched Jackson walk around the room in all his naked glory. Michelangelo could not have sculpted a finer work of art. He lit candles, set his iPod to a selection of love songs and, once he felt he’d set a proper mood, joined Diamond in front of the roaring fire.
This time, their lovemaking was slow, deliberate, the way Jackson had originally intended. He turned his body so that his head was at her toes and then he lovingly sucked one into his mouth. Who knew that making love to one’s feet could be so stimulating? Diamond found out, and soon she’d scooted her body down to where her mouth was in line with one of her favorite parts of Jackson’s body. She wet her lips and took in as much of his burgeoning erection as possible. Jackson’s groan was low and deep as she licked and sucked, nibbled and tasted. Not one to be outdone, Jackson spread her legs and dove headfirst into her wetness. He tickled her nub with his tongue, flicked it into life until it was a pebbled hardness between her legs. He licked her thoroughly, everywhere, in every way. They used their bodies to communicate the love that words alone could not convey. As the vestiges of dawn streaked across the sky in orange, pink and purple hues, Jackson once again plunged deep inside her, stroking her into yet another frenzy. He was insatiable. He was a beast! Diamond matched him stroke for stroke, loving every minute. She felt him wholly inside her, as if touching her very soul. She felt his love not only in body, but in spirit. This time, as she cried out, tears of happiness rolled down her face.
“You all right, baby?” He reached for a couple nearby pillows and, still lying on the fur, cuddled Diamond spoon-style in his arms.
“I’m perfect,” Diamond answered. “I never thought I could feel this way.” She turned to look at him, her eyes wide and searching. “Is this real, baby? Or is this a dream?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, playfully flicking her nose with his finger. “But if it is, then please don’t wake me up.”
And that’s how Diamond went to sleep: sated, naked, and in Jackson’s arms. As soon as he was sure she slept soundly, Jackson got up and went online, searching for the perfect thank-you gift for Diamond saving his life. An hour later he’d found what he was looking for and, after a series of phone calls, was ensured that a delivery would be made the following morning at the place of his instruction.
The next day, Jackson and Diamond arrived at the Drake Estate in time for Saturday brunch. On a self-prescribed vacation from cooking for the holidays, Genevieve had called upon David and Mary’s chef to prepare
for the festivities. The table was laden with brunch favorites: pecan waffles, eggs Benedict, home-style potatoes and breakfast meats. Pitchers of mimosas completed the menu, made with fresh-squeezed orange juice and a Drake sparkling chardonnay. The only thing more plentiful than the food was the laughter. At their bequest, Jackson and Diamond had shared the details of their hazardous adventure as Papa Dee, David Jr., Mary, Donald, Genevieve, Donovan and Dexter looked on.
“Your daughter is gangster,” Jackson said to Donald, as he reached for another strip of crispy bacon. “She handled that nine-iron like a pro!”
“Glad to see those golf lessons counted for something,” Donald grumbled.
“Y’all don’t know nothing ’bout gangster,” Papa Dee said, his ninety-eight-year-old eyes twinkling with laughter and life. “Did I tell you about the time when I was twenty and I outran Al Capone and his gang?”
“No, Dad,” David Jr. said, “but I think we’re getting ready to hear the tale.”
Just then, Jackson received a phone call. “I’m sorry, but this is business,” he said upon rising. “I’ll make it as brief as possible.”
It was almost fifteen minutes before Jackson returned. Diamond’s eyes asked the obvious—where have you been?
“Later” was the one-word response Jackson whispered in her ear.
As brunch neared its end, Donald stood. “I’d like to propose a toast. I’d like to once again thank God that Jackson and Diamond are safe. And I’d like to say cheers to the new Drake posse!”
Laughter abounded amid the cheers.
Jackson stood. “I’d like to propose a toast, also, if I may.” The room quieted. “Yesterday when I saw the gun against Diamond’s head, my life flashed before my eyes. Because in that moment I realized just how much she meant to me and how much I didn’t want to lose her. In the short time I’ve known all of you, and for the first time since my adoptive parents died, I’ve felt the bond of family. I want to thank you for welcoming me into your home and your lives, and if Diamond will have me, I’d like to become a part of this family forever.” Jackson got down on one knee. “This is the business I was handling just now, baby. Dealing with the contact who dropped off this package.”
