22
Jack awakens around 3 a.m. with a headache—though not as much of one as he expected—and a definite ache in another part of his anatomy. He gets up and takes some aspirin for his head, then gets into the shower and stands there for a long time. Afterward he feels better, but despite steadily cooling down the temperature of the water, his lower ache remains. All he can think of is Carter, and how she looked on that blanket in the grass; how it felt to make love to her. How can a dream feel so real? Another part of him—Jonah—refuses to admit that it was only a dream.
She startles herself awake calling out his name. Sam rolls over and looks at the clock. 4:15. She has spent much of the night immersed in fantasies. Or memories; she is not sure which. The part of her that is Thera vividly recalls making love to Jonah, although previously she had pushed those memories as far to the back of her mind as she could manage. That is no longer possible. The images are sharp and clear. The bunk where she and Jonah slept was hard and narrow, and they were in a barracks full of other workers; the only privacy was provided by blankets they hung from the upper rail and the careful deliberateness with which everyone ignored intimate activities. But comfort did not matter, nor did privacy, because they had each other.
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It is nearly 5:00 a.m. when he parks his truck on the street in front of Carter's house, and gets down and heads for her front door. There are lights on inside, but as he climbs the steps, they go out, and the front door opens and Sam comes out onto the porch. She stops with the door pulled half shut behind her, and he freezes with one foot on the top step and they stare at one another.
An eternity seems to pass as they stand there.
He moves first, and crosses the space between them swiftly; he brackets her head with his hands and leans down to claim her mouth with his. The kiss is deep and long and they are both fully immersed. He is exploring her mouth with his tongue, and sliding his hands down her back to cup her buttocks—firm and sweet and perfect in his hands—and pull her body tight against his erection. Her tongue plays with his, and one hand slips under his T-shirt and finds its way along the smooth hard muscles of his chest so her fingers can tease his hardened nipples; meanwhile her other hand caresses the back of his neck and pulls him closer. Without taking his lips from hers, he urges her backward into the hallway, kicking the door shut behind him. Pinning her against a nearby wall, he continues to ravish her mouth as he pushes one knee between her legs, which she opens to him, and lifts her up onto her toes. She is fumbling with the closure of his jeans, clumsy with need, and finally manages to free the stubborn metal button, and starts to work on the zipper, while he is pulling her tank top over her head, and reaching next for the waistband of her pants. Soon their clothes are in a puddle around their feet, and they are skin to skin, hard and tight, soft and yielding...
"Where…?" he demands in a strangled growl.
"Couch," she whispers, thick-voiced.
In the near-dark, still kissing, touching, teasing, caressing, they manage to make their way into her living room, to the thankfully huge, roomy couch, and they fall into the cushiony depths in a tangle of arms and legs, with groans and sighs of pleasure. She pushes him down on his back and straddles his hips, taking him in with one long motion, and then they are both lost in the sensations that rise from the heat of their joining—sensations that grow and expand and peak into an explosion of ecstasy.
"Where were you going?" Jack murmurs into her hair. They are enclosed in the depths of the couch, wrapped in each other's arms, floating…
"To find you," she says, smiling against his neck.
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23
Sometime later they move from the couch up to her bedroom. They snuggle for a while, and then she begins to tease and tickle him, avoiding his attempts to fondle her and pin her down—her tongue and hands are everywhere, finding sensitive places he doesn't know he has—until he is begging for mercy.
"Come on, Carter," he pleads, after a while. "I'm an old man! I can't take much more of this!"
"Old, my foot! You'll take whatever I want to give you, sir!" she declares, laughing, dodging the hand that is reaching for her breast.
"I don't think so!" He flips her onto her back and straddles her, shoving her hands above her head and holding them there. "Now what're you gonna do?"
She squirms and twists, giggling, but is unable to free herself. When he catches both her wrists in one of his hands and uses the other to torture one of her nipples, she adds squeaks to her repertoire.
"Carter! You're squealing like a girl!" he taunts, laughing. He leans down and claims the second nipple with his tongue. He finds the noises she makes in response to this extremely satisfying.
"Ooohh... J… Jack! ...not fair…"
"Say please, Carter," he croons.
"Please! Please, sir…" The rest is lost in her shrieks, as he quickly readjusts himself and slides down between her legs.
Yes, it is all so very satisfying…
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They sleep for a little while, held intimately in one another's arms, and awaken aroused and wanting. When she rises above him to bend down and kiss his cheek, his eyes, his mouth, her breasts molding themselves to his chest, one leg thrown damply across his belly, the love and desire he feels render him speechless, even as she whispers her own desires in his ear.
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Getting into the shower together may have been a mistake, he realizes—but, oh! such a pleasurable one, as they rub soap-slicked bodies against each other, with warm water cascading down over their heads—since balance is impaired and they must cling together to stay on their feet.
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Lying quietly in bed with her in his arms is the purest bliss—one hand cups a soft breast while the other draws her close and caresses the smooth skin of her back. Her head is on her shoulder, and now and then he feels it turn slightly so she can kiss his collarbone; one of her hands rests on the inside of his thigh and the other moves lazily across his jaw and plays with his ear. Gradually their movements slow until at last they grow still.
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