Whispers in the Dark Ch. 04

Savannah was still wearing her jeans, which clung uncomfortably from being soaked, and were now feeling like quite a nuisance. She had no desire to move from Jackson's lap and the touch of his hands, but she had to if she wanted more than those touches. Savannah struggled from his lap and stood. He reached out, catching hold of her jeans and unfastening them. It was Jackson who pulled them most of the way down before she kicked them aside.

"You are beautiful," Jackson murmured, sliding a hand up between her thighs.

She gasped as his fingers slid beneath her panties. Savannah was already getting wet from his kisses and fondling, and his fingers sliding up inside her just made her more wet. She bit her lip, tilting her head back and pressing her hips into the motion of his hand. Jackson reached up with his other hand, tugging at the ties on either side of her panties. They fell away and he slid his fingers from her, only to pull her down into his lap.

Shaking with anticipation, Savannah braced her hands on his shoulders. She shifted, tucking her knees at either side of his thighs and pushing against the chair to lift herself. It was actually easy. Jackson's hands settled on her hips, guiding them. She felt the press of him against her thigh, hard and hot. Savannah lowered herself onto him, moaning softly with each inch that entered her.

Her mouth settled over his. Jackson's hands cupped her ass, helping her push upward. She felt his hips shift up into hers when she slid back down. He had to be strong, to do that in this chair, and that thought made her shiver in delight. Savannah laughed softly as he pushed his hips up again, bouncing her. She leaned into him, pushing up with her knees to ride him.

The control was hers. She began moving slowly, curiously, relishing the sweet friction the movement caused. Jackson's hands wandered as she moved, running over her hips, sides, belly and breasts. His mouth traveled from hers, down her neck, over her shoulders, and down to her breasts. Savannah arched her back, pressing against his mouth as it closed around one of her nipples.

"Come on, Savannah," Jackson murmured against her breast, his teeth nipping lightly. "Let out that fire you've got in you. I know what you want to do, baby, so do it."

She buried her fingers in his hair, holding his mouth against her breasts. Jackson didn't seem to mind in the least. He closed his arms around her, his mouth working hungrily at her nipples. Savannah rose and fell, riding his length with increasing pace. Each time she felt him hit deep inside her she moaned softly. Jackson murmured against her skin, words of encouragement that dared her and teased her.

She arched her back and threw her head back. Savannah could feel his hips lifting, pushing into her. She let the feeling rush through her, let it build the tension inside her until it drove her over the edge. As she came she cried out and shuddered, her body tightening around him. Jackson let out a soft groan, burying his face between her breasts. Savannah felt him come deep inside her.

Panting, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, she sank against him. Jackson went limp in the chair, his arms around her, breathing heavily. Oh my god, Savannah thought, resting her head on his shoulder. Never, ever, ever have I…done something like that… It wasn't just that she hardly knew Jackson. It just wasn't like her to have sex like that. Heck, it wasn't like her to have sex at all.

"Damn," Jackson said, his voice husky. "Well…damn. I think that's a first for me…"

"What?" Savannah asked, lifting her head slightly.

"I've never had sex on a basket chair," Jackson explained. She

could hear the smile in his voice.

"It's called a papasan chair," Savannah told him.

"I'll never remember that," Jackson said quietly. "So I think I'll just remember this night as the night I had sex with a fiery red head in a basket chair."

Savannah laughed. "Great. Are you going to be telling this story at the next meeting?"

"Fuck no," Jackson grumbled. "I ain't sharing this with no one, baby."

Despite his somewhat grumpy tone of voice, his words sent a thrill to her. So it wasn't just her, then; there had been something more here than sex. Oh, it wasn't love at first sight, or some similar silly notion. Savannah just felt like she could connect with Jackson given the chance. If it was just a meaningless, casual fling, wouldn't he be itching to tell the story at the next meeting?

"To be honest with you," Jackson said. "This isn't like me. I mean, well, I won't say I haven't had some one night stands and such but…ah, I can't explain."

"Then stop trying," Savannah told him. "Can you reach that blanket on the couch? I'm cold."

Jackson shifted beneath her and reached out, grabbing the throw blanket off the couch. He wrapped it around her, then closed his arms around her and held her close. He was still inside her, but Savannah really didn't feel like moving at the moment. And he certainly seemed to be in no hurry. His hand ran lazily up and down her back, and the other was tangled in her hair.

"But you know," Jackson said suddenly. "I won't mind in the least if you feel like, you know, bragging a little…"

Savannah giggled. She pressed her face against his shoulder and sighed. Maybe she would have to tell Anna, at least. Although her friend might not even believe her. I hardly believe me, she thought, yawning and snuggling up to Jackson. Ah, hell…I'll worry about it tomorrow. Savannah relaxed, soothed by the motion of his hand along her back, and allowed herself to drift off to sleep.