Thursdays in Savannah

by Olivia Gaines

  “My senses are on overload right now. You, using big words, stimulating my brain,” he told her as he gently tore open the condom wrapper. “Dinner smells absolutely delicious, stimulating my belly and reminding me of how hungry I am.” He held the condom in one hand while pulling down his underwear to free his erection with the other

  “Then there is you, lighting up every sense in me. I can smell you. Your scent is filling my nostrils, exciting my brain, and letting me know that you are ready for some coital pretzeling.”

  Savannah smiled at him as she held the sheathed readiness in her hands. “So what would you like to eat first?” she asked with a wicked smile. The answer was already known as she turned and walked toward the stairs, her ass firm and moving like cat stalking an unsuspecting prey. Jesse followed behind her with his wand pointed at her as if to cast a fairytale spell.

  Jesse climbed the stairs behind her. “That is a dumb ass question.” The stairwell was as far as they got as Savannah’s forearms rested on two stairs ahead of her and her knees rested two stairs below. Jesse was behind with his face planted deep within her vertical smile. It was almost embarrassing for Savannah. Her mind had been anticipating his arrival all day, causing her to be so worked up that all it took was a few strokes of his tongue and she was starting her ascent. By the time Jesse took the nub of flesh into his mouth and suckled, she was calling his name.

  “Not yet, Baby, not yet,” he pleaded with her.

  “It feels so damned good and I have been waiting for you all day,” she whispered into the wood of the stairs. “Now Jesse, now, please right now.”

  It was a good thing that Jesse had braced his hand against the banister. As he inserted the beginning of his intention, Savannah thrust her hips backward, sucking him into the vortex of her love. The force of her orgasm pulled him along for the ride as he pumped furiously, emptying two weeks of backed up fantasies about being with this woman.

  “Savannah,” he whispered her name, resting his head on her shoulders. The words he wanted to say were stuck in his throat. Whoever he was would have this. He would come home to those beautiful dinners, have a packed lunch every day, and get to wake up next to this woman.

  He hated that idea.

  He hated feeling like he was on borrowed time. He hated sharing her.

  But, she was not his.

  He had nine months to make a change in the landscape. The next step was to plant some kudzu. If he was going to take care of the weeding, he may as well take over maintaining the whole damned yard.

  In the darkness of the bedroom, the glow from the alarm clock revealed the time. It was five thirty and the alarm would ring in another half hour. It was too bad Jesse’s body was already awake, craving Savannah’s attention. He wasn’t a pig and he wouldn’t fondle her in her sleep to wake her so that she could take care of what he needed. She would be awake soon. He could wait.

  The clock now read 5:37. Only seven minutes had passed and he was having a mental conversation with the blue veined throbber that was screaming for release. I can’t believe how hard my junk is right now. His only thought was her.

  He needed to be inside of that body; that sweet, luscious, giving body that loved the feel of him when he entered her private palace. The feel of her surrounding him, warm, delicate, and hungry made him grow even harder. How her body gripped him so tightly each time he entered her and she responded to him, coming undone in his arms. A man could get used to that. The feel of her breasts against the hairs on his chest, her firm thighs locked around his hips, thrusting upward. The sound in the back of her throat as her orgasm built and those eyes....

  Jesse liked to make love to her with the lights on so he could gaze into those deep brown pools. He loved watching her pupils dilate when he would give her long strokes during her orgasm, driving her crazy.

  5:45.

  He would not make it another 15 minutes. He was so hungry for her, he wanted to roll her onto her back and mount her like a prized stallion, rutting until the hardness eased off. His fingers ran across her abdomen. He wanted to slide his hand lower into that sweet valley of delight and get his fingers wet. She tasted so fucking good, like ambrosia with extra cream.

  “Savannah,” he whispered in her ear. “I need you.”

  Her long legs rubbed against his as she stirred in the darkness. 5:47.

  It had only been 10 minutes.

  “Savannah baby, wake up,” he said again as he reached for the nightstand to grab some protection. She stirred again, pushing her ass against his erection. Fuck, I’m not going to make it if she does that again.

  Jesse reached for the nightlight and clicked it on. Savannah moaned as she stretched out on her back.

  Jesse was sweating. “Baby, please wake up. I can’t hold on much longer, please, wake up.”

  Savannah turned to face him, eyes heavy with sleep. “Jesse, what’s wrong?” He grabbed her hand and slipped it under the covers.

  “My junk is harder than Fox News on the President. I need you so bad, please wake up and help me.”

  Her hand held him and stroked him a few times. Jesse didn’t want her hand. Anxious fingers tugged at her panties, pulling them down her thighs, over her knees, across her ankles and tossing them on the floor. He slipped between her thighs and buried his face, licking, lapping, and moistening.

  Savannah moved against his mouth, moaning and gyrating her hips. “Yes, Jesse. Yes, that feels so good.”

  Enough. He had enough. Like an animal, he crawled up the bed, lifted her hips from the mattress, aiming, throbbing, and needing her. He pressed forward as he thrust into her. “Aarrrrhhhh,” he growled as he thrust even harder.

  He whispered into her ear, “I can’t get enough of you Savannah.” He kissed her neck. “No matter how much you give, it never seems to be enough.” He thrust harder, feeling her tighten around him. “So good, Savannah, this is so damn good.”

  She clawed at his back as he unleashed his desire upon her, squeezing her thighs, pulling at her hips to meet his thrusts. She cried out his name.

  The alarm clock sounded as Jesse reached his climax, grunting out her name. His breathing was ragged and labored as he lay atop her, holding on to her body, still inside of her, not wanting to come out.

  Addicted to something that is not mine to keep.

  Jesse Orison grimaced at the anguish of what he was experiencing. He wanted her for his own.

  Chapter Eleven

  Savannah chose to wear a simple lemon chiffon dress with a high satin pink waist to the engagement party. Judging by the reaction of Darwin’s family, you would have thought she had walked in wearing a thong and a smile. It was April. Spring had arrived, it was an attractive dress and it made Savannah feel pretty, which showed as her skin glowed and her eyes shimmered. Many of the men in the room shared the sentiment and Darwin was displeased that she had drawn so much attention to herself. Mrs. Finney made a snarky comment that Savannah did not appreciate. It left a sour taste in her mouth, which she soon found a reason to regurgitate.

  “My dear, you look like lemon frosting on a baby shower cake. Whatever made you think that dress, in that color, was a good idea?” Mrs. Finney asked Savannah while she looked down her beakish nose.

  Savannah’s time with Jesse and the freedom to express herself in the bedroom was spilling over into her everyday life. She was no longer afraid of Mrs. Finney. Each day, she was becoming less afraid to live from paycheck to paycheck. It had served her well for the past five years. Hell, one or two more would be worth it versus having to deal with that insipid woman. Her mother had taught her when she was asked a question that she should be polite and give her answer.

  “It is no worse of a concept than having a bunch of doves shitting all over my wedding guests. Yet, you seemed to think that having them is a good idea, so we are even. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said as she walked off to talk to Cassiopeia. Maybe she misunderstood the polite part. Savannah fully comprehended that if she didn’t gain some control
over Mrs. Finney, there would be no means of reeling that woman in once the children were born.

  Savannah went back to enjoying the party.

  The guests were all lovely. The few friends that Savannah and Darwin had in common were there to wish them well, but Savannah would rather be home playing chess with the handyman. She had left her car at Darwin’s, leaving the ride back to his place filled with thick tension in the air. Mrs. Finney had complained about her mouth and the dress. Darwin was torn. He wanted to make love to her, but she only wanted the evening to be over. This was not fair to either of them. What are you doing, Savannah?

  Had Darwin done anything to earn this treatment? All of this was her fault and her doing, coupled with a dose of bad judgment. Jesse should not be in her life and he damned well didn’t belong in her bed. She had to break it off before it became more serious. Yet, she felt like a fanatic when I came to Jesse. The smell of him. The feel of him inside of her. His ability to make her come undone each time he entered her.

  It was the choice she had made. Darwin was going to be her husband. However, as she lay under him, listening to his misguided attempts at pleasuring her, the timing of the whole scenario was incredulous. The night she got engaged to Darwin was the same night that Jesse showed up to rescue her from a failed attempt by a man who wanted her as a notch in his belt. Was that what was happening between her and Darwin as well? Was Jesse rescuing her from a failed attempt at having a happy life?

  Imagining a lifetime of lying under Darwin and pretending to enjoy his lovemaking took some work. This man barely knew where the little man in the boat lived, whereas Jesse could drive up, sending him paddling and sending her through multiple levels of orgasms.

  Darwin was just going to have to be taught how to please her body.

  A weird feeling came over Jesse as he sat at the table listening to his mother prattle on about wanting to remodel the kitchen. It had been remodeled three times in his 34 years of life and he asked his parents if they had thought about living somewhere smaller. His mother reacted as if she had been scalded and his father gave him a stern, disapproving look. Nothing was tamping down the unsettled feeling roaming through his belly giving him gas. Something was off.

  He jumped up from the table, startling both of his parents and scaring the wits out of his 4-year-old cousin. It was his cousin Bart’s son, whom his mother Ruth brought over to rub in her children’s faces and remind them of how it felt to be grandchild-less.

  Jesse grabbed his phone and checked it for messages. The feeling would not go away. Something urged him to call or text, but he opted instead for a cool glass of water and some deep breathing. Savannah was planning to dump him. He just knew it.

  “Son, are you okay? You act like you saw a ghost or something,” his father said with a look of concern on his face.

  “I’m all right Dad. I just need to think some things through.” He took his glass of water and headed out to the patio. This was his childhood home. He grew up here and loved coming over for dinner once a week. His parents were getting older and were dealing with many changes in their lives. Jesse was also struggling to come to terms with some of the changes in his.

  Since meeting Savannah, Jesse’s train of thought about where his life was going had switched tracks. As the eldest son, he was being groomed to take over the family business. It never entered his mind to do anything other than work construction. When he was five years old, he had learned to wield a hammer. Like his father and his father before him, they were construction workers. They were men who used their hands for a living. A piece of wood in his hands could be molded into anything from a piece of furniture to a toy.

  When had things moved to the point of me becoming some woman’s plaything?

  Sadness filled him as the epiphany flashed across his face. He had been happier in the past three months with her than he had been in the past five years. Behind her closed door, they were both free to relax and enjoy each other. If he was able to change her mindset of his role in her world, he could increase the possibility of becoming something more to her. Thoughts soared through his head as he mentally cataloged each room of her condo. There had to be something that could connect them together. He set his glass on the small patio table he had constructed in a high school shop class. The tables! The tables would be the connection.

  Jesse walked back in the house with a smile on his face. He had a plan to become more than just her maintenance man. There were other things in her life that he could also tighten up and repair. However, the first thing he had to fix was his role in her life.

  Chapter Twelve

  May

  Savannah watched Jesse as he eyed one of the end tables she had made. One of the screws had not seated properly, which made the second table a bit wobbly. He went to his tool box, grabbed a few items and corrected the screws. The old holes were sealed with wood putty leaving the table to stand strong.

  “Thank you,” she said coyly. “I made those tables.”

  Jesse nodded. “I was wondering, Savannah, since I am here once a week, is there a bigger project you would like to start that maybe I could lend you a hand with?” It was the perfect bait and switch. He showed her the creeping ivy, and he just needed her to think it was a good idea to plant it.

  Her eyes were wide. “You would be willing to do something like that with me?”

  “Sure,” he said as he sipped on the perfectly brewed and sweetened decaf iced tea. “I mean, we need to work on something to justify me coming over here every week with a tool box.”

  Savannah was thinking she liked playing with his tools, but it would be cool to build that headboard for the guest room. “I really wanted to build a headboard for the guest bed.” She told him how she truly wanted to build a frame for the bed with at least six storage drawers underneath to maximize the space.

  Jesse asked for a piece of paper. Together, they drew up a sketch of what she wanted. He knew that one night a week was not going to get it built in a timely manner. He would need to come over on Saturdays as well. Savannah was skeptical, but he would need some time to get the plans made. In return he asked for a favor.

  “Can you make meatloaf?” he asked.

  Savannah thought it was a weird question. “Yes, I can.”

  Jesse’s face went all soft as he told her how every other Tuesday his mother would make meatloaf. On Wednesday his dad would have a meatloaf sandwich for his lunch. “I would love a meatloaf sandwich in my lunch bag, as well as some sour cream mashed potatoes with gravy and green beans for dinner.”

  His eyes were sparkling. Savannah found herself wanting to please him. “I could do that next week for you. I leave for New York on Monday, but I’ll be back on Thursday morning.”

  Jesse rose to find his pants. He located his wallet and pulled out a $100 bill and gave it to her. “This should cover anything you need to buy.”

  “Jesse, it does not cost a hundred dollars to make meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”

  He perked up. “Ooooh, add some crusty rolls and some grape Kool-Aid to the list.”

  Grape Kool-Aid? Did this gigantic grown man just ask me to make some grape Kool-Aid?

  “Jesse, what you have requested will not take all of this.” She looked down at the bill. He opened his wallet and pulled out a fifty and handed that to her and she handed back the hundred.

  “No keep them both, use it to stock up the pantry or buy something special you like to eat.”

  He was so different. Jesse found ways to give her money without her ever having to ask. Darwin, on the other hand, would take her to get what she needed. Stop it. These men were very different. Comparing the two was unfair.

  “Savannah, I am looking forward to building something with you,” he told her as he watched her face reason through whatever was filling her head.

  “Building something with me?” she repeated, uncertain of what he meant.

  “I would like it to be a life, but I will take what I can get. If we start with a bed,
we are at least starting.”

  “I like that bed idea.” She smiled at him. “I like your tool too.” She was being brazen, but she didn’t care. Her body loved this man’s touch and shamefully, so did she.

  “Tonight, Savannah, I want to show you how I make love.” He pulled her close and lifted her into his arms. He was slow moving up the stairs as he whispered loving words into her ear. Call it what you will, Savannah just wanted him. So much for her plans to end it.

  On a Monday afternoon, Savannah boarded a plane to JFK for a quick shopping trip in New York for her wedding dress. The excitement of visiting the Big Apple waned when she arrived at the airport to see Cassiopeia in line beside her soon to be mother-in-law. Her mother, Emurial, had ridden with her and held her tongue when she saw Darwin’s mother. It was with a smile that she hugged her soon to be in-laws as they chatted briefly about their plans when they arrived in New York.

  What plans? Who needed a plan? All Savannah wanted to do was see an off Broadway show, have dinner at B. Smith’s, and hit Kleinfeld’s for a dress. Darwin had provided her with a prepaid credit card with a limit of $1,500. She had to shop smart. The money she had saved for the dress, added to what he gave her, limited her options.

  Although she had not asked, Jesse slipped a few bills in her wallet along with a note that said, “Just in case.” This was the money she was going to use to take her mother to see a show with and then treat her to dinner. All of her in-laws plans went awry.

  Savannah knew exactly which dress she wanted. It had always been her fantasy to wear a cream-colored sheathed lace gown with an illusion neckline and capped sleeves. She knew the designer and the budget, but she just didn’t know how difficult Mrs. Finney could be. After trying on fifteen dresses, Savannah’s nerves were worn thin. Her mother, on the other hand, was showing amazing restraint and patience. The final gown was the one that Savannah loved. It was in her price range, required no alterations, and could be shipped to her home for no cost.