Page 9 of Saved By the Lumberjack
"You're awake?"
Ivy's emerald eyes peer up at me through dusty blonde lashes.
"Yeah," I answer her, letting my fingers drop from the strand of hair I've been playing with to the hint of bare skin where the neck of the shirt has slid off her shoulder.
"You didn't have to stay here, you should have shoved me over so you could get up."
Then she feels it, my hard dick pressing into her stomach as she shifts and rolls to sit up.
Ivy's eyes go wide with comprehension as the press of her against me has me closing my eyes on an oath.
"I really didn't want to," I confess.
Chapter Five
Ivy
The dream starts to slip away from me and even though I try, I can't chase it back into sleep. Consciousness threatens even though I try to ignore it.
I don't want to wake up. Not when my dreams have been filled with more Jake than scared nights spent hiding.
As those dream fade, I slowly become aware that I'm still on Jake's big leather sofa. I remember leaning up against the back, listening to him tell me about his work while I stared at his face, memorizing every feature.
Now I'm sprawled out on the cushions, my thighs against the soft leather in a way that doesn't exactly stick, but doesn't exactly not. Soft cotton cages me in on both side and more cotton cushions the side of my face.
Nothing under the fabric, however, is soft.
Blinking a few times and letting my surroundings come into focus, I realize I'm wrapped up in the hard muscles of Jake's legs, his arms folded around me, the steady rise and fall of his chest under my head.
It doesn't take long to realize he's awake too. One of his hands lazily spins a lock of my hair around his fingers. It's acomforting sensation that makes me want to snuggle back to his chest and lay in his arms forever.
But I feel guilty for making him my personal pillow when he probably has better things to do than lay here waiting for me to catch up on lost sleep.
Then I shift, turning slightly so I can look up at him-- and feel something else hard digging in to my stomach under his sweatpants.
"Oh." Is the only thing I have to say when he tells me he didn't want to move me.
He closes his eyes briefly and utters a four letter word under his breath when I move again.
"Um, I don't know what I'm supposed to do?"
The thing is, I don't want to move off of him. I want to move closer to him. I want to feel that hard length pressed against more than just my belly.
But I don't know if he's really hard for me, or if it's just a thing that happens sometimes.
Jake's eyes open, fixing on mine. The olive-gray tint of his irises looks more hazel and much darker as he tightens his jaw and swallows hard.
"You're not supposed to do anything, Ivy. You had a rough couple of days-- I don't want to pressure you...but Idowant you."
As if to punctuate his meaning, I feel his dick surge reflexively against me.
"But--" My voice falters slightly, unsure how this goes. "I want you too."
"Fuck, Ivy, you're so perfect."
The hand that had been playing with my hair cups my face. I don't make Jake do all the work for our first kiss, I move toward him, eagerly meeting him half way until our mouths collide and our tongues tangle.
The couch is big, but it's not big enough for both of us now that we're making out.
