Skylar's Pregnant!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My Naught Dream

MY BAD PEOPLE HIS EYES ARE GREEN NOT BLUE. UH... OOPS!

I had called in sick today for work, because I just didn't feel like going. Before I went to bed Bliss called and asked if was all right. I told her I was. Jack came by to check up on me and then gave me a kiss goodnight. Ollie didn't call or come over, looks like he was still pissed about this whole thing. Well then screw him. When I went to bed Mother was still not back yet and I was starting to get very worried. She called and said that she was coming home very late and to go to bed and that I have school in the morning. When I went to bed I had the strangest dream. I was in a bathtub, the room was warm and misty, the black marble tub full of bubbles. White candles encircled the head and foot of the tub were glowing everywhere. The petals of two dozen red roses floating on the surface of the water. Jack was standing in front of the tub with only a pear of jeans on. He knelt down and trailed his fingers in the water. He wiped his wet fingers across his chest, down along his belly. His fingers played with the line of dark hair that vanished into his pants. He kissed me lightly, a brush of lips, but even that small movement made my stomach do a complete back flip. I gasped and pushed him away. He fell into the tub, going completely under, only his feet sticking out. He landed on my naked body, and I gave a him a small yep in surprise. He shook his head and laughed. The sound filled the room, played along my skin like a hand.

"God, how can I be so clumsy?" Jack said. I stared up at him. He stood there, knee deep in bubble bath. He was soaking wet and should have been ridiculous, but he wasn't. He was beautiful.

"Trust me sweetheart, you everything but clumsy." I said softly. He gave me an evil grin. He knelt in the water. The bubbles covered his waist, so he looked naked. He moved towards me. The water sloshed and curled around my naked body. He stayed kneeling, still showing me that evil little grin of his. The feel of him in the water, that close, made my heart beat faster. And I looked down and blushed.

"Really, than what am I?" Slowly, I raised my face. He placed a hand on the tub edge, one arm on either side of me, bringing his chest dangerously close to my face.

"Arrogant, kind, loving, trusting, loyal, fearless, careless at times, and dangerously sexy." I whispered. I touched hands to his waist, tentative, as if it should burn, but it didn't. I glanced up at his face and knew that there was something close to lust on my own face. I kept my eyes on his face as I moved my mouth towards his stomach. I ran my tongue over his skin, a quick, tentative movement. He sighed, eyes fluttering shut, body almost sagging. I pressed my mouth against his skin, drinking the water off of him. I couldn't reach his chest. I moved to my knees, hands steadying me against his slender waist. The air was cool against my naked breasts. Kneeling had bared them. His fingertips brushed my shoulders, sliding down the wet skin. I shivered and glanced up. The look on his face caught my breath in my throat. Tenderness, need, amazement.

"You are so beautiful, my petite fleur." With was in French petite little flower. Well, who know he could speak French? He put his fingertips to my lips before I could protest. "You are beautiful. On this I do not lie."

"I'd be careful Jack, this little flower is still very deadly." he laughed. His fingers moved across my lips, down my chin. He slid his hands to my

shoulders, down my back, in slow, teasing lines. His hands stopped on either

side of my waist, mirroring my hands on his own waist.

"Now what?" My voice was a little breathless.

"Whatever you like, my deadly petite fleur." I massaged my hands against his waist, feeling the flesh underneath, feeling him under my hands. I spread my hands wide, splaying my fingers tense against his skin, dragging my hands up his ribs. He kneaded his fingers into my waist, pressing his hands against my ribs. He inched his hands upward along my sides. Strong fingers pressed into my skin just enough to make me sigh. He stopped with his thumbs below my breasts. His touch was feather light, almost not touching at all. But that one small brush of his skin against my breasts made my body react, tightening, nipples hardening. My body wanted him. Wanted him so badly that my skin felt large and aching with the thought of it. My own hands were pressed against his chest. I realized that he was still mirroring me, waiting for me to move. I stared up into his face. I searched that beauty, those amazing blue eyes of his. Dear God they were beautiful. I slid my hands up his chest, fingers brushing across his nipples. I stared at his face while I did it, heart pounding in my throat, breath coming too fast. His hands slid upward, cupping my breasts. The touch of his hands made me gasp. He scooted lower in the water, still touching me. He bent over my breasts and laid a gentle kiss on them. He licked the water off my skin, lips working gently. I shuddered and had to steady myself on his bare shoulders. I caught sight of us in the mirrors. I watched his mouth close over my breast, felt him take me into his mouth as far as he could. Fangs pressed against my breast. For a second I thought they would sink into my flesh, draw blood in a fine hot line, but he drew back. He dropped to all fours in the water, which made me taller, allowed me to look down into his face. There was no uncertainty in his face now. His eyes were still lovely, still human, but there was a knowledge in them now, a growing darkness. Sex, for want of a better word, but that look in a man's eyes is too primitive for vocabulary. It's the darkness we all have inside of us, peeking out. That part of us that we trap in our dreams and deny in daylight hours. He stayed crouched in the water with that feral light in his eyes, and I went to him. I kissed him, light, a brush of lips. I flicked my tongue along his lips and he opened his mouth for me. I cupped his face between my hands and kissed him, tasted him, explored him. He came up out of the water with a sound between a moan and a cry. His arms locked behind my back and he rolled us in the water like a shark. We came up gasping. He pushed away from me to lean against the far edge of the tub. I was breathing so hard I was trembling. My pulse thudded at the back of my throat. I could taste it on my tongue, almost roll the beating pulse in my mouth like candy. I realized it wasn't just my heart I was hearing. It was Jack's, too. Jack's body pulsed in time to mine. It was like he was riding my pulse, my blood. I felt his need, and it wasn't just sex, but for the first rime, I understood it wasn't just the blood, either. It was all of me. He wanted to warm himself in my body, like holding hands to a flame, gathering my warmth, my life, to him. I felt his stillness, a depth of quiet that nothing living could touch, like a still pool of water hidden away in the dark. In one crystalline moment, I realized that, for me, this was part of the attraction: I wanted to plunge my hands into his stillness, into that quiet place of death. I wanted to embrace it, confront it, conquer it. I wanted to fill him up with a burning wash of life, and I knew in that moment that I could do it, but only at the price of drinking in some of that still, dark water. He stood then, and I think it was to get read of the pants he was still wearing. I knelt at his feet, running my hands up the soaked cloth of his jeans. I dug my nails lightly into the cloth over his thighs and stared up at him. My face was dangerously close to places I had never touched before, not even with my hands. This close, I couldn't help noticing that he was stretched hard and firm under the tight, heavy cloth. I had a terrible urge to lay my cheek over his groin. I ran my hand lightly over him, barely touching. That small touch brought a soft groan from him. He stared down at me like a drowning man.