Thank you all so much for the reviews! They really help me out and give me motivation-keep them coming. Please let me know where you would like to see the story go... I know where I want it too, but I want to make sure I don't disappoint. We are finally getting into the "M" part, and I hope y'all enjoy. A
Again, all the glory goes to George R.R. Martin...He made the toy, I'm just playing with them!
Sandor
Sandor didn't have to ask Sansa Stark if she was nervous about spending the next four nights in his company, it was Wednesday night and Jory wouldn't be back until Sunday, he knew she was nervous. It had been five minutes and she was still bumbling around with the keys to the front door. The act mixed with Sandor's own nervousness about being alone in the house with her had him on edge.
"Buggering hell, Little Bird. It's not a fucking jigsaw puzzle, its a goddamned door," he said to Sansa, with more venom than he would have liked. "Give me those."
Sandor angrily reached in for the keys with his left hand. Sansa, at the same time, turned to hand them over in defeat causing Sandor's left hand to unceremoniously land atop her right hip and her chest to collide with his.
"Ouch"
"Seven hells, girl, can't you watch where you're going?" is what came out of Sandor's mouth as he brought his right hand around to the small of her back to steady her, but it was not one of the seven hells that entered his mind. Frozen with fear, he was able to hold Sansa Stark in his arms for a few seconds, just long enough to realize who he'd be sharing a roof with for the next few nights.
When she had gathered her things at the Monteleone, Sansa had promptly changed into a baggy Tennessee Titans shirt and Nike running shorts with flip flops. It was the first time Sandor had seen her in something that he could pronounce. And while her casual attire hid what he'd been staring at earlier, having her this close reminded him of what he was missing. Sansa, by the feel of it, had not put a bra on when she changed and now her perfectly round, perky breast were slammed into his abdomen. The placement of his right arm allowed Sandor to feel Sansa's tight back muscles and note that the curvy ass was definitely not exaggerated by her dress. Deep breath, let her go before she can feel your excitement.
"I'm sorry," Sansa said as she looked up at Sandor, her anxiety obviously only intensified by the proximity. "I've never used these keys before…and…well…um…It's quite nerve racking to unlock a door when someone is giving you looks that could kill."
Sandor, still reeling from the feel of Sansa Stark pressed into him, molding to his body like it's perfectly made twin, returned her gaze and leaned down to her ear.
"You should be used to a man's looks by now, Little Bird. But I'd be more afraid of how men were looking at you earlier than how I am now."
Before Sansa had time to react to his words, Sandor had already stepped inside.
Sansa
He doesn't look at me like the other men were? Sansa thought as she started unpacking her bags in her new room. He must not find me attractive. Sure, thinking back on it, Sansa had felt the Hound staring at her, but everyone time she would catch him, he had the same angry look in his eyes that he always wore, and while, yes she was a virgin, Sansa Stark knew that many of the other men in the room tonight had been looking at her with lusty eyes. I even saw it on Robert Baratheon's face before he realized who I was. Sick.
Sansa was actually quite good at reading people. Often times when she met people they thought she was too courteous, which was indicative of her not having anything to really add to the conversations. But Sansa knew better. It was actually more work being courteous, because you had to pay attention to what people would want to hear. And Sansa knew she was good at making people feel welcomed. Except for the guy I currently have in my home.
It was almost midnight and Sansa hadn't seen the Hound since they'd walked through the door nearly two hours ago. He threw her stuff in her room, went to the other bedroom, and slammed the door. Pity, Sansa said to herself. I would like a little company on my first night, even if it is Sandor Clegane, and he does hate me.
Sansa decided that if she wanted to talk to Sandor Clegane, she would have to anger him. He only talks to me when he's angry, and at this point, I'd take an angry Hound over no hound at all. To be honest with herself, Sansa wasn't afraid of him. She knew that he wouldn't hurt her because the Baratheons would kill him. She'd lived with older brothers before and had seen her father's anger on a few rare occasions, so she wouldn't back down from a spat. And after tonight, she knew he wasn't attracted to her…although she definitely found him appealing in a very bad boy/masculine way. What have I got to lose? He can't be any ruder to me than he already is. So Sansa, who had been quietly unpacking placed her iPod in her iHome, turned on Taylor Swift, and blared the music as loud as it would go.
Sandor
What. The. Fuck.
Nothing was working, for the past ten minutes, he'd tried putting a towel under the door, shoving his head under a pillow, and even setting up the noise maker app on his phone, but nothing was working! Why does the guest bedroom have to be across the damn hall from hers? It was already hard enough for him to stop himself from going in there, throwing her on the bed, and recreating the sensations that had gone through his body out on the porch not only two hours earlier, but no, now he had a reason to storm into his, after further review, not-so-llittle bird's room. And by God, a hound with a reason was dangerous.
Sansa
Grrrr…I've played "You Belong with Me," "Should've Said No," and "Mine," as loud as I could and he's still not coming in here. I thought guys HATED Taylor Swift? The anger was bubbling inside Sansa as "Picture to Burn" started to play. It wasn't so much that she wanted the Hound in her room, as that she wanted someone to share her first night at her first place with. Even Arya would provide better company than him. Sansa let out a long sigh and was about ready to give up when her door swung open.
When Sansa saw the look in Sandor Clegane's eyes, she was momentarily grateful that she'd opted for the king bed as it only put a bigger obstacle between them. Sandor looked at her briefly, almost shaking with ire, went to her bedside, pulled out her iPhone, and threw it into the hamper across the room by her closet door.
"Hey! That's my iPhone. You don't throw an iPhone across the room!" Sansa huffed out. Although she thought it had more to do with seeing a shirtless Sandor Clegane than the state of her phone. She'd gladly go out and buy a new phone if it meant seeing him shirtless again. He. Was. Ripped. Ugh… Sansa thought, he has a warrior's body. He reminds me of Russell Crowe in Gladiator but younger and scarier. Sandor's abdominal muscles were taut, and he had that delicious V shape that girls fawn over. I doubt Joffrey looks like that with his shirt off... His biceps are as big as my thighs.
"You don't blare your shitty teenage music at midnight as long as I am here," Sandor bellowed back at her.
Ugh…he was infuriating
"YOU don't tell me what to do as long as you're here," Sansa replied with equal fervor as she met Sandor, who was striding over toward her, in the middle of the room.
Sansa took a hard gulp as they almost collided, mere inches from each other. He won't hurt me. He will just yell and then calm down. THEN maybe we can clear the air and these next few days won't be miserable and full of tension.
"Huh," Sandor nearly grunted out. "Look, little girl, don't push me. You might have had almost every man there tonight falling all over you, but I don't take orders from spoiled little girls. Never have, never will."
Sansa hated being called a little girl. It was what Robb and Jon called her when they were talking to some of their friends that showed interest in her to make them stop, and it was what her mother and father called her right before they told her she couldn't do something. Sandor Clegane was not her brother, and he was certainly not her parent!
Sansa poked her finger in the middle of his big, scary chest and looked him straight into the eyes.
Sandor
She shouldn't be touching me was all Sandor Clegane could think about with Sansa's finger poking in his chest. Well that's not ALL he was thinking about. She shouldn't be touching me, and why the FUCK is she touching me? Sandor Clegane didn't go around barking at people for no reason. He WANTED people to be afraid of him, with the exception of an occasional stripper, but he always fucked in the dark anyway. So, why wasn't Sansa Stark afraid of him?
"I am not a little girl," Sansa hissed at Sandor. "And trust me I know...that I might have had almost every man looking at me tonight but that you would never look at me like that. God forbid Sandor Clegane looked at me with something besides contempt."
And then it clicked….. Sansa Stark wasn't afraid of him because she knew that he couldn't hurt her because of his boss and…She thinks I'm not attracted to her. The situation was too ironic for Sandor to maintain his anger, and he suddenly began to laugh.
"What's so funny," Sansa said removing her finger from his chest and placing both of her now balled fists onto her side, though she did noticeably relax.
"That's it, Little Bird?" he could hardly get out between his laughs. "You think I'm NOT attracted to you?"
"Well..uhh…I guess I haven't really thought about it."
"Ha," Sandor replied. "You obviously have are you wouldn't be spouting off instances when you THINK I've proven I'm not."
At this point Sandor had stopped laughing and was slowly stalking toward Sansa.
"I mean…ugh…I've just noticed that you don't look at me like other boys do," Sansa said matching Sandor's steps forward with her backwards steps.
"Good that you've noticed," Sandor replied. "And I'm not going to start."
"You're not going to start looking at me?" Sansa peeped as she neared her closet door.
"Oh no, I'm going to start looking at you," Sandor managed to get out as he heard Sansa's back press up against the wood.
"I don't understand."
"Ha," Sandor bellowed. "Of course you don't understand…that's the most honest thing you've said tonight."
Sansa, confused by the last part of the statement, just looked at Sandor Clegane as she realized she had nowhere to go.
"But let me spell it out for you. I'm not going to look at you 'like other boys do,' because I'm not, in case you haven't noticed…a boy." At this statement Sandor noticed Sansa's eyes get round and her breathing start to increase, but her shock didn't stop him from continuing. "I'm a man. And you need to remember that these next four nights. You need to remember that as you prance around in your little shorts. Remember it as you blare you're music, knowing that I'm just across the hall giving me a reason to come to your room. And remember it when you start poking your finger in my chest a mere few feet from your bed."
"I…I…didn't," was all Sansa could get out as she stared deep into the Hounds eyes, licking her lips.
"Yes, you did," Sandor said placing a hand on either side of Sansa's head and leaning in towards her, chests slightly touching. You may have the Baratheons and the rest of New Orleans fooled into thinking you're a stupid Little Bird, and you may even act like it sometimes, but I've done my research. I know you're here on a full ride."
"Well then," Sansa said regaining some of her composure. "If you've done your research, then you know I'm not the type of woman to lure men into their bedroom."
"Ha," Sandor scoffed. "You aren't the type of woman to lure a man in here and fuck him, Little Bird. I know that, but you did none the less. And next time, you do," Sandor paused, leaning down to her ear for the second time tonight, lowering his voice to a raspy whisper, "I won't be leaving. I'm not the type of dog to walk out on a tasty looking bone. Do you understand?"
Sansa gulped and nodded in response.
"Good," Sandor announced before turning around and walking out of the room.
Sansa
It felt like forever before Sansa could move herself away from he closet door and into her bed. He is attracted to me, she thought as the nuzzled into her pillow. And he is a man. Sansa wasn't quite sure what to do with the situation. She knew she should probably stay away from him, there was no doubt he was dangerous. But she also knew that she couldn't stay away from him-he was Joff's bodyguard. Well he's mine until Sunday.
What Sansa also knew was that her body had never reacted like that to someones touch before. As Sandor's chest barely touched hers during the exchange, she felt a shock go through her body and heat in her core. Sansa had never felt that electricity, not with Theon when he had first kissed her at 15. And not with Joffrey as they danced tonight. The ache that had bloomed below her waist made her want to wrap her legs around Sandor and end the tension all together. But she couldn't. She'd heard stories from Jeyne (her best friend from home), and she'd thought about it enough, after all she was 18, but Sansa Stark, Nashville's princess couldn't be that forward with a man. And to be honest with herself, she wouldn't know what to do from there if it ever got to that point.
But, Sansa whispered to herself as sleep started to claim her, I wouldn't mind learning from Sandor.
