Chapter Twenty-four

Sansa supposed that it was an outdated notion that people made out during movies, but she couldn't help but want it to happen. She was summarily disappointed when it didn't. Jon did hold her hand though. And every once in a while he would lean over and kiss her temple.

Her stomach was full of butterflies. It was odd that she should feel these nerves with Jon. She kept telling herself – it's Jon. It's fucking Jon. And just when she thought she'd gotten herself under control, she would see him in her mind's eye and not see just Jon anymore, but this hot God she was so enamored with. How had she missed all this hotness for so long?

As they made their way out of the theater, hand-in-hand, they chit-chatted about the movie as they always did. Unlike in previous excursions to the movie and she'd just get in when they got to his car, Jon pushed her against the passenger side door and kissed her. He kissed her until she lost her breath. He pressed his forehead to hers. "I've been wanting to do that since we left the school."

Sansa bit her lip and boldly (though her hand shook a little), put her hand at the nape of his neck and gently caressed him there. He took a shuddering breath and leaned even further into her. "Sansa," he breathed.

"Do you like that?" she asked softly.

He rolled his hips against hers and her eyes went wide. He was hard. "What do you think?" he asked.

She smiled. "Jon?"

"Hmmm?"

"I want to…please you."

"You always please me, Sansa."

She snorted. "Now I know that's not true."

He laughed softly.

"I want you to teach me how to touch you…" she said. "I don't know how…"

"We can take our time," he said and cupped the side of her face. "There's no reason to rush. You're new at this and—" She sighed. He drew his head back. "What? What'd I say?"

"The 'you're new at this' bit—"

"Just for the record, I do not sound like that."

"When you've annoyed me, you do."

"Okay, what about that statement upset you so much?"

"It just made me feel like I'm some stupid, inexperienced kid," she whined. "Like you have to treat me with kid gloves or something because the virgin might cower in fear otherwise."

"Sansa, that's not how I meant it. It's just that taking any kind of relationship to the next level is a big deal. We just started dating."

She frowned. "Are you saying that you don't want to touch me then?"

"God, no. I want to touch you; but I don't want it to be some big race to the finish line. You're my girl and I want to do everything right with you."

She took comfort in that. Okay, a lot of comfort. She liked being his girl so far. No one would take better care of a girl than Jon, but when she thought about his past relationship with Val she imagined that they were all over each other from the get go. She was intrigued by a Jon that wanted and loved a girl so much he would have sex with her in the library.

She wanted to drive him batshit crazy like that, but with the promise that she'd stick around. Sansa didn't plan to go anywhere.

Her mind drifted to Jaime and how he had those other girls besides her. She wondered then if he had them because she wasn't putting out. She had been the inexperienced virgin cowering in fear with him. Or, maybe, she was just waiting for Jon and hadn't realized it yet. Maybe that was part of the reason she was so eager to start exploring.

"What are you thinking?" Jon asked as he rubbed her arms.

"I'm thinking we should go back to your room now."

He smiled. "Sounds good."

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Sansa and Jon sat together on his bed side-by-side and kissed. And kissed. And kissed some more. Sansa thought back to what Margaery had told her about how to turn Jon on. Could she do all of them in some kind of pattern? It was the neck, chest – specifically nippular area – his ass. Okay, she couldn't do the ass thing while he was currently on it, but maybe she could do the other two. Neck first or chest first though?

Margaery needed to draw her a diagram.

"Where are you?" Jon asked as he broke their kiss.

She reddened. She liked that he was so in tune with her that he knew when her mind had drifted. She looked at him under lashes and went for coy. "I was just thinking that I asked Margaery before you arrived tonight how to touch you to turn you on."

He looked intrigued. "Oh?"

"Yeah, and so in my head I was remembering what she told me and trying to figure out where to start."

"Anywhere, Sansa," he said, his voice a bit hoarse. "You can start anywhere."

"Well, she told me about the neck thing," she murmured and glided the tips of her fingers along the back of his neck. He shuddered and kissed her hard. "What else?" he whispered.

Lightly, she used scratched over his right nipple. He winced. Sansa deflated. "Too hard?" she asked.

"A little."

She sighed and pulled away from him. "Sorry."

"Come back here," he murmured and cupped the side of her face. He drew her in and kissed her slowly. "Was there anything else?" he asked softly against her lips.

"She told me to touch your ass, but you're kind of sitting on it, so…"

"Sansa, do you want to touch my ass?"

She smiled. "I kind of do."

"Why don't we lay down then?"

He pushed her back onto the bed and crawled half on top of her. "I like this part," she said quietly.

"Which part?" he asked as he ran his fingers through her hair that was splayed out onto his pillow.

"I like feeling your body against mine," she said. "I like the solidity of it. The comfort…I like how hard your body is against my softness."

He groaned and kissed her hungrily. "Oh, I'm hard all right," he muttered and she giggled. Then, as they continued to kiss, Sansa let her hand wander down his side and then, finally over his ass.

He bucked into her and gasped. "Christ."

"Did I do something wrong again?" she asked and froze.

"No, sweetling, no. That was – I liked it. A lot."

She smiled victoriously. Jon laughed. And then he nuzzled the side of her face. "Just for the record – nothing we do here is wrong."

"Oh, I could think of a few things that would be wrong," she said.

He laughed. "Okay, some things yes, but I don't want you to be afraid to experiment with me." He grinned at her mischievously. "My body is yours to do with what you will."

"Your body is a wonderland," Sansa sang softly.

"Okay, I just found the first wrong thing," he said. "Your singing is welcome anytime, but not John Mayer."

She laughed. "Noted."

He kissed her again and then pulled back until just their foreheads were touching. "Maybe you could tell me how you'd like to be touched?" he asked.

"Surprise me," she whispered.

She almost laughed with how he didn't waste any time slipping his hand under shirt. He lay his palm flat on her belly and Sansa felt a tremble go through her. "I love your hands," she whispered.

"Yeah?" he murmured and began to slide his hand up her the center of her body. He stopped when his hand covered her bra-covered breast. "What else do you love?"

She rubbed against him. "More, Jon."

"Is the clasp on the front or back?" he breathed.

"Front," she replied breathlessly.

He undid it deftly and Sansa put it out of her mind that he had practice doing that. All thought left her head anyway when the pad of his thumb passed over her nipple. Once. Twice. Three times. It hardened and Sansa gripped the back of his hair and pulled him down to kiss him. She arched up and his hand cupped her breast as she flicked his thumb back and forth. Tongues met, teeth clashed. He groaned. She groaned. She was vaguely aware of her hips moving restlessly against him. He gripped her breast roughly. Then he tore his mouth away and buried his face in her neck, breathing hard. His hand slackened around her breast and drifted down her side. Sansa was breathing heavy too and she was now aware that her leg was up over his hip. She'd been dry-humping him.

"So I think that's a good start," he said against her skin. He was hard against her thigh.

She laughed. "Yeah, I think so." Though she wondered why they didn't do more. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him how long it took for him and Val to sleep together, but then she decided that perhaps it was best she not know that. Not yet anyway.

"I better get you back," he said, but he didn't move.

Sansa smiled at the ceiling. "I suppose you'd better."

But neither of them moved for a long time.

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Before bed that night, and after telling Margaery all about it, Sansa crawled into bed and pulled her laptop on her lap to check her e-mail. She paused when she saw an email back from Jaime. But, he had promised to give her information about what classes to take so there was nothing to feel guilty about. This is what she told herself anyway.

She read over the bit about what classes to take and which professors to avoid and which groups to join a few times before deciding she'd be better off saving the email for future use. The next part of his email had to do with what was to happen to him now:

I don't have an answer for what will happen now. I am to join therapy and group counseling for sex addiction. I promised my brother I would seek help, but I'm not entirely sold that that's my problem. I think, dear Sansa, that I just became disillusioned with life. My ex-wife wrung me dry. She took every part of happiness from me and I felt lose, old, and alone.

I won't lie and I won't sugarcoat it – I like sex. I like it a lot, but I think between the thighs of all those young girls, and especially with you, I was looking for a fountain of youth. I was looking for someone to restore the hope I used to have and had lost.

I know what I did was wrong, but I swear I wasn't just being a pervert. I was chasing the promise that tomorrow I would wake up that idealistic young man I used to be before my ex-wife sucked it out of me. Maybe I'll find it in other ways now. What do you think – should I take up jogging? I hear runner's highs are pretty awesome.

Tell me, darling, has Jon declared himself yet?

Yours,

Jaime

Sansa's brow furrowed. What did he mean by "and especially with you"? He hadn't even really gotten between her thighs.

She let the mouse hover over the reply button and she contemplated continuing this correspondence. If Jon knew…yikes. But there was nothing going on here. Her eyes were wide open as far as Jaime Lannister was concerned. It wasn't as though he had any shot in getting in her pants now – and she was pretty sure that he didn't want to be doing that anymore anyway.

She clicked Reply.

What do you mean by 'and especially with you'? Are you trying to say that I'm not the same as the others because I'm pretty sure the only thing that made me different was that you never actually got 'in' my pants?

And yes, Jon has declared himself. I suppose in some twisted way I have you to thank for that.

She didn't bother to sign in. She sent it off and put her laptop away. She wasn't doing anything wrong. It wasn't as though they were flirting. Perhaps she would tell Jon about it…

Then she thought of how angry Jon got when Jaime was just mentioned and decided maybe not. And no matter what Jaime wrote back in the next e-mail she would not reply back.

Pleased by that she shut her eyes and relived her night with Jon until she fell asleep. It took a while.