"What are you thinking about?" Jackson asked. He had finished his plate and was lying down on the blanket, his arm folded behind his head as a pillow.
"I'm thinking about all the hours I'll have to put in the gym after all the food I've been eating." I set my empty plate down and stretched out my legs. "I'm stuffed."
Jackson hooked his finger in the belt loop of my jeans and pulled me closer to him. I lay down next to him, nestling my head in the warm area between his chin and shoulder as he wrapped his arm around me. I breathed in his scent and gave him a quick kiss on his neck, wrapping an arm around his waist. He responded by kissing me on the top of my head and I thought I would burst with happiness.
Time passed by as we lay contentedly, not talking, simply just enjoying the day and the closeness of each other. The light breeze teased us but I felt warm from Jackson's body nestled against mine.
"Emma?" Jackson said softly after a while, breaking the silence.
"Hmm?"
"In case I forget to tell you, this has been one of the best weeks of my life."
I lifted my head and saw Jackson watching me, his face serious. My face broke out in a wide smile at his words.
"I wish I could say the feeling's mutual, but it's not." Jackson's face darkened and I instantly regretted my bad joke. I quickly added, "This hasn't been one of the best weeks of my life. It's been the best week of my life."
Jackson's face cleared and then he got a devious look on his face. "Toying with me, I see. You'll have to be punished."
Jackson swooped in, tickling me, and I shrieked in protest.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I exclaimed breathlessly through my laughter. "I won't do it again!"
Jackson stopped tickling me as he hovered over me, his eyes dancing with merriment. "You're lucky you're so beautiful. I'd forgive you anything."
I caught my breath from laughing so hard and gazed up at him. He traced the outline of my lips with his thumb, his eyes darkening. He leaned down and grazed my lips with his, the soft touch setting sparks of desire through me.
Jackson winked at me as he lay back down on his back, pulling me next to him so we were nestled against each other again. "You're also lucky we're in public, otherwise you'd be naked right now."
"Then I think we should go back to your place now."
Jackson grinned and we got up, quickly packing up our picnic basket. I couldn't believe how my body could constantly crave him, with no more provocation than a simple kiss. But I decided to just enjoy it instead of questioning it. I was riding high on feelings and emotions.
Before we left the park, we walked over to the John Lennon memorial. It was a large circular mosaic on the ground made up of black and white stones and my chest felt tight when I saw the word spelled out in the middle: Imagine. Memories of my father rushed through me as I felt conflicting emotions. I grieved the fact that I would never share this with my father, that we would never stand here together and look upon this poignant tribute to his favorite musician. But a part of me, the part that believed in something more than myself, that believed in things beyond what we could see and touch, felt that my father was here with me.
My father would often say, "Emma, you and I are two of a kind. We're practical and sensible but we're also dreamers. Don't forget that part of you. There's nothing wrong with being sensible, but dreams are what make you fly. And you're destined to touch the sky."
Memories of my father's belief in me had given me the strength necessary to leave behind my life in D.C., to leave a life that I knew would slowly drain me of my dreams. I never would have been standing at this memorial if it hadn't been for my father. It was only fitting that I felt him so strongly here.
Jackson didn't say a word, he just wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. I rested my head against his chest, my arm around his waist, and we just stood there silently, gazing at the word Imagine.
After a few moments, he leaned down to kiss the top of my head. "How are you feeling?"
"Happy and sad," I answered honestly. "I'm sad that my father isn't standing here next to me, but I'm happy that I got to see this. I know my father is still a part of me, so in a way we're still seeing it together even though he's not here physically."
I looked up at Jackson, my heart full of an emotion I didn't want to put a label on yet. "Thank you for bringing me here."
Jackson leaned down and brushed my lips with his own. "I'm just glad that I could share this moment with you."
I leaned in closer to him, tightening my arms around him. "I'm ready to go home now."
Jackson and I spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening at his apartment. This time we succeeded in making love slowly and it was infinitely poignant and soul stirring as we worshipped each other's bodies. I felt emotionally exposed and bare looking into Jackson's eyes as he gazed back at me, slowly and exquisitely sinking his body into mine. But I reveled in my vulnerability, in my willingness to open myself up completely to Jackson, because I could see all my desires and emotions reflected back to me in Jackson's eyes.
Afterwards, we ate Chinese food out of takeout cartons and watched bad sitcoms, laughing even though the jokes were cheesy because it felt effortless to be happy in that moment. When it was time for Jackson's play, I went along, sitting in the front row and enraptured by his performance again, clapping until my hands tingled when he came out for his bow.
Claire had plans with friends after the play so we were saved from having to make excuses for not going out with her. We went back to Jackson's apartment and made love again, but we were no longer slow and gentle but frenzied and greedy. Jackson held my hands above my head, pinning them against the pillow and holding me in place as he slammed into me until I cried out as waves of pleasure rippled through my body.
I looked up after my climax and saw his jaw clenched as he stilled himself so that I could feel every spasm of my orgasm. My next words surprised me, I had never been so brazen in my life, but I could tell I took Jackson completely off guard.
"I want you to come in my mouth."
Jackson sucked in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring as I felt his erection jerk inside of me at my words.
"Christ, Emma," Jackson said hoarsely. "Are you trying to kill me?"
I sat up, feeling him slip out of me, and kneeled before him. I took hold of the root of his erection and licked the engorged head, looking up at him at the same time. Jackson groaned, his body shuddering in pleasure.
"I like tasting myself on you. I can't wait until you come in my mouth and I can taste us together."