N. Walters - Jackson’s Jewel

Reaching into his back pocket, he drew out a scrap of fabric and stared at it. The fragile purple garment was already torn beyond repair, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to toss out her ruined panties. Instead, like a lovesick fool, he’d folded them and tucked them in his jeans pocket. It was like having a piece of her with him all day.

Boy, he had it bad!

Sighing, he shoved Emerald’s panties back into his pocket. Already it was hard to imagine the farm without her here. And that was the problem.

Resuming his walk, he kept one eye open for photo opportunities as his thoughts wandered. He knew himself well enough to know that Emerald was special. He’d never wanted a woman the way he wanted her. Last night had been incredible. His cock stirred. He’d taken her twice within the span of an hour and he could have taken her again. The only thing that had stopped him was that Emerald was tired and sore. It had been enough for him to tuck her into his arms and have her sleep with him.

He’d never spent an entire night with a woman before. Usually they’d gone back to her place and he’d left long before dawn. When he was younger, he’d made out in his truck. But never before had he taken a woman in his own bed, in his home. He’d kept his liaisons private from his home life. Now he wanted to do the opposite.

Deep down, he wanted Emerald to love the place so much that she’d never want to leave. Hell, he wanted her to love him. He rubbed his chest with his free hand. His heart ached even as his loins tightened. He was very much afraid he was already in love with her. And that could only lead to heartache. For as much as he wanted her to stay, he knew that she’d have to leave. She was a city girl with a career. She had too much talent not to use it.

A twittering sound interrupted his thoughts and he glanced to his right. He managed to get a shot of a crow sitting on the limb of a dead birch tree before the bird took flight again. When he reached the edge of the meadow, he stopped and crouched down low. Wildflowers were in bloom and several bees and butterflies were flitting from flower to flower.

Patiently he waited and managed to get about a dozen shots that had potential. He wouldn’t know until he got them developed, and that took a while as he always sent them away to get them done. No one in town knew about his sideline business, and that was fine by him. He was a private man and saw no reason for everyone to know his business. And part of him couldn’t believe the prices that some folks were willing to pay for his photos.

It had been a while since he’d taken part of a day and just indulged himself in his second passion. Yes, he loved the farm, felt the call of the rich earth in his blood, but photography had fed a part of his soul that had almost dried up before he’d discovered this hobby. It had started about a year before Erin had married and he’d taken to it like a duck to water, reading every book he could find on the subject and experimenting. It had come so easily to him, it was almost as if he’d done it before and was just remembering how. He had an eye for framing a shot. At least that’s what the gallery owner who’d contacted him had told him.

He’d needed this time to himself. Time to think. Time to just wallow in the farm and in nature without having to work. On a working farm there were really no days off, especially this time of year, but he’d needed to recharge his batteries. Last night had given him a lot to ponder.

He was realistic enough to know that Emerald wouldn’t stay forever. He could step back and put some distance between them or he could take advantage of the time that she was here. Those memories would have to last him a lifetime, because as sure as he was standing here, he knew he’d never feel the same way about any other woman as he felt about Emerald. There was something about her that made him wanted to grab her tight and yell mine.

It was probably too late to pull back from her, and there was no way he was letting her leave until he knew the threat to her was over. His hands tightened into fists and he swore as the expensive camera in his hand protested. He forced himself to relax, but it wasn’t easy.

He realized that he’d already made up his mind. There really was no choice. He’d take whatever Emerald would give him and cherish their time together. When it was over, he’d find the strength somewhere inside him to let her go.

Swiping the sweat from his brow, he decided that he needed to cool off before he went home. He was close enough to the old swimming hole to take a quick dip. Then he’d head home and maybe sweet-talk Emerald into a quick afternoon romp between the sheets.

The swimming hole was technically on Abel’s land, but they’d all used it as kids and teenagers. Jackson hadn’t been here in about a dozen years. He shook his head. Where the hell had the time gone? His life had become too much about work and survival and less about living. Somehow, having Emerald around was bringing him back to life again.

He had her to thank for that, even though it would hurt like hell when she left. But there was no going back, and truthfully, he didn’t want to. It felt good to be really alive again.

The splash of water caught his attention and he crept forward. If his sister and her husband were fooling around at the pond, he didn’t want to interrupt them. As he reached the edge of the trees, he raised the camera and peered through the telephoto lens for a better view. Nobody used this place much anymore as it was on private property. But maybe a few of the teenagers that Erin had hired were taking a break. Although at two in the afternoon, that wasn’t likely.

There was only one person. Jackson could barely make out the top of a head as it disappeared beneath the water. He waited patiently and was rewarded a few moments later when she reappeared. It was definitely a woman. She was naked from the waist up and he saw her perfectly. Recognition made his heart skip a beat.

Emerald was skinny-dipping.

Like a water nymph, she stood waist-deep in the pond and slicked her wet hair out of her face. She was wearing no makeup, her skin glistening in the afternoon heat. He swallowed and focused his lens, getting a closer shot. His fingers longed to take a photo, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t without her permission. This was one picture he’d never share with anyone, but he’d give almost anything to have one for his private collection. Something that he could hold and look at long after she was gone.

Beads of water caressed her skin like a lover’s touch. One poised on the edge of her nipple and he longed to lick it away. Her breasts were very sensitive. He loved to draw those pouty nipples into his mouth and suckle.

His jeans were uncomfortably tight, but he didn’t move, totally enthralled by the picture she made in the lens. She laughed as she fell back into the water, disappearing below it, only to reappear a few seconds later. When she dove deep, her long legs briefly appeared and then were gone. Jackson wondered if she was wearing panties or if she was totally naked.

His hand went to his back pocket where her pale purple panties resided. He drew them out and held them to his cheek, sniffing them. They smelled like her—hot and spicy with a touch of floral. The real thing was only a handful of steps away.

Returning the panties to his pocket, he hesitated. Should he leave her alone or join her? He already felt like a damn voyeur watching her through the lens of his camera. She surfaced again, slicking back her hair. In spite of the cooling water, her skin appeared flushed. Her hands rested lightly on her belly and then slowly slid upward.

Jackson gulped air into his lungs as her fingers hesitated just below her breasts. “Higher, baby,” he whispered. His cock was throbbing, but he ignored it. There was no way he could take his eyes off her as he waited to see what she’d do. “Touch yourself,” he murmured, encouraging her even though she couldn’t hear him.

Her hands cupped her breasts and gently squeezed. “Oh, yeah. That’s it, sweetheart.” His testicles tightened and he barely swallowed a groan. He was in agony, but he couldn’t stop watching Emerald. She was beautiful, so natural, like a goddess of nature as she rubbed her fingers across her puckered nipples. Her head was thrown back and her hair hung in wet tendrils, clinging to her back and shoulders. Her long neck was exposed to his hungry view and her back was arched, pushing her breasts upward.

Her arm grazed the side of her breast as her hand slipped across her collarbone and throat. Her head turned slightly away from him. His finger pressed down automatically on the shutter.

The noise sounded loud in the silence of the day and he took a step backward, stepping on a twig. The snap echoed across the clearing. Emerald gasped and sank beneath the water. Swearing under his breath, Jackson sauntered forward, or at least tried to. His gait was as stiff as his erection.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was shrill as she glared at him. “You frightened the life out of me.”

“I’m sorry.” He really was repentant, but she looked so damn adorable when she was angry, he couldn’t really be sorry he’d seen her, only that he’d frightened her.

Her eyes went unerringly to the camera that now hung from his neck. “You were taking pictures?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged.

She stared at him, searching his face. “Did you take any of me?”

He didn’t even think about lying to her. “I never meant to, but I couldn’t resist taking one. It’s nothing that I’d ever show anyone else,” he quickly reassured her. “But with the play of light on the water and you turned slightly away, you looked like a mystical nymph rising from the depths. The way the shot is framed, your identity is protected.”

Emerald stared at him, then at the camera that he’d automatically grasped in his hands. “You’re a serious photographer, aren’t you?”

He looked down at his feet and then out over the water before giving one single nod.

“Why does it bother you to admit that?” Water rippled and his head snapped up. She’d stood in the water and pulled her hair forward to cover her breasts. Her skin was sun-kissed, her dark brown eyes were deep pools of desire. Before he’d realized what he was doing, he’d raised the camera, adjusted the lens and snapped several shots.

He swore and lowered the camera. “I’m sorry.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Talk to me.” Her soft voice soothed some of the tension from him. He felt his shoulders relaxing even as the ache in his groin intensified.

“No one knows, okay?” He kicked at the dirt and sighed. “It started as a hobby, but now I’m selling some in a gallery in New York.”

“Really?” She appeared delighted.

“Yeah.”

“But why doesn’t anyone else know?” She seemed perplexed.

“I’m a farmer, damn it.” He tugged the camera strap over his head and laid the camera carefully on Emerald’s clothing, which was folded neatly and placed on a rock in the shade.

“That doesn’t mean that you can’t be an artist too.”

Jackson shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it. I have something more important to ask you.” He took a step closer.

“Okay.”

Sweat rolled down his spine as he walked to the edge of the water. “Are you wearing panties or are you naked?”

Emerald stared at Jackson. He was self-conscious about his photography even though she could tell it meant a lot to him. She was no expert, but that camera he was using was no cheap piece of equipment. He’d sunk serious bucks into it, and for a man like Jackson, that meant that he was deadly serious about it.

She wanted to talk more about his artistic career, but one look at his closed-off expression told her that wouldn’t be happening. Not now. That didn’t mean that she wouldn’t pursue it later though. She could be tenacious when she wanted something.

He took a step closer to the water, the intensity in his blue eyes scorching her bare flesh even hotter than the sun was already doing. She licked her lips in anticipation. Jackson had too much responsibility and he’d had it for far too long. He needed to play and she was just the woman to make that happen.

Batting her eyelashes at him, she smiled coyly. “Why don’t you come in and find out?”

The corners of his mouth kicked up in a slow grin. “I think that I will.” He ripped his white T-shirt over his head and tossed it next to her pile of clothing. “How did you find out about the swimming hole?” He unlaced his boots and pulled them off one at a time, dropping them to the ground near his feet. His socks followed.