Chapter 3 Part 1 - Still Alive But Barely Breathing.
A/N: Okie dokies people. I'm super sorry for how long this has taken but I've been soooo swamped with work that this has been chucked to the back of my mind. Anyway, here you go, tell me what you think!
Dude, Dean thought when he cracked his eyes open. What the hell happened last night? Did he inject alcohol into his bloodstream or something? Because his head was pounding like a group of hopped up howler monkeys had some bongo drums and were enjoying them a little too much for Dean’s liking, considering his present state. The moment he opened his eyes though, he snapped them shut again as light seared across his vision, slicing into his brain like a serrated knife.
Dean hissed in pain and rolled over, away from the brightness. When he attempted to sit up, the room spun and swirled before his eyes and a hand flew up, clasping his forehead as he fought the urge to vomit. When his stomach settled he moved again, slower this time, using the bed as leverage to get on his feet and he stood swaying by the side of the bed. It took him a moment to realise that he was only in his boxers, which meant someone must have put him to bed last night after...wait what did happen last night?
He racked his brain, thinking carefully about the last thing he could remember and pulling up a blank on all levels. So with a huff of annoyance Dean leant forwards, eyes shut against the head rush and fumbled in his duffle for a pair of jeans. Straightening again, Dean put a hand to his head, feeling hot and achy and sighed. He pulled his jeans on blearily and turned, hoping to grab a shower before he saw anyone.
So when he opened the door to his bedroom, all dishevelled and rumpled he prayed that he wouldn’t come face to face with an angry Sasquatch. His prayers were answered thankfully and he slipped quietly, albeit slowly into the bathroom across the hall. The door clicked softly shut and Dean didn’t even think to lock it, just turned to the shower, fumbling for the cold water tap and shucked his jeans and boxers off.
The water was cool and pleasant against his skin and Dean tilted his head back, eyes shut and let the water pound against his face as he leant an arm against the tiled wall. He stayed that way, motionless and quiet for a while longer and then, when he began to shiver, and the throbbing in his head reduced slightly, he twisted the hot water on and set about washing the grime of his forgotten escapades from last night off his skin.
He didn’t hear the door open.
*****
Jo looked up from her crossword when her mother walked into the room shaking her head.
“Hey Mom, what’s the matter,” she asked, placing her pen and paper down and jumping up to sit on the bar.
“I just can’t find any of the towels, hun, it’s okay I’m sure I put them somewhere-”
“Oh no, I put them in the guest bathroom. For Sam and Dean,” Jo replied, cutting her mother of mid thought. “You want me to go get some?”
“Yeah, hun, that’d be great, I’m just so swamped.” Ellen smiled, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her daughter’s ear. “Thanks,”
“S’okay,” Jo said and turned, heading for the spare bathroom. It didn’t really register in her mind that someone was using the shower until she was in the steam filled room itself.
She stopped dead in her tracks, letting the door swing shut and stared dumbly at non other than Dean Winchester, the man she had locked lips with the night before. And now here he was, stark naked in the shower, all smooth tan skin and rippling muscles. She watched through the fogged glass door of the shower as water sluiced down across his body and she followed the trail down, down, lower and lower. She watched as water ran down his chest, over his ribs, until it dipped lower, past his hips to - She pulled her gaze up quickly from the first hint of dark hair at the base of his hips and took a shuddering step back, hitting the door with a quiet thud and cringed, unable to move when Dean turned the shower off and fumbled for a towel.
He wrapped the blue fluffy towel around his slim hips and turned, stepping out of the shower all smooth skin, steaming from the heat of the water. He had his eyes closed; one hand kneading his forehead but something must have niggled at his hunter senses because Jo watched with dread as he dropped his hand quickly, shoulders tensing. Jo wished she could just die. Or slip very, very quietly and very, very quickly out of this room...which was getting increasingly warmer because. Hello! Practically naked Dean in front of her!!! Jo managed to think this in the time it took Dean to get out of the shower and realise there was someone in the room with him, which really said something about how nervous she really was...and more importantly how embarrassed she was. But when Dean opened his eyes, Jo had her back turned and was saying, ‘Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to I swear!”
“Jesus Jo, if you wanted to see me naked all you had to do was ask,” Dean drawled from behind her and Jo flushed right down to her toes.
“That’s not true! Shut up! I’m just here to collect some towels for Mom,” She replied haughtily, back still turned. She threw a hand out behind her and said, “Gimme some. And I’m not turning around because I don’t want to be traumatised for the rest of my life,” It has nothing to do with the fact that I’ll probably turn into a pile of goo if I see him partially naked again. Not at all.
“Sure, Jojo, I believe you,” He said, a smile evident in his voice, “But it’s okay, I’ve got pants on now,”
“Really?” Jo said doubtfully, because she wouldn’t put it past him to be just stood there wearing nothing at all.
“Really.” Dean replied.
There was a moments silence as Jo considered her possibilities and finally she said, “I don’t believe you.”
“Oh, for Christssake Jo, here,” He said, and shoved a handful of towels over her shoulder and shoved past her, his right hand kneading at his forehead again. She watched, bewildered as Dean strode into his and Sam’s bedroom, shutting the door without a seconds glance at her and Jo felt cold inside. What had he just forgotten last night? Pushed it from his memories because it - she was that bad? And then Jo felt angry, because this blatant dismissal was so uncalled for.
Dean jolted and spun around in shock as Jo stomped into the room letting the door close with a heavy thud. He had a t-shirt in his hands and was staring at Jo like she had just grown another head.
“What the hell is your problem?” Jo hissed, trying to stay quiet, because she didn’t want an audience for this conversation. Hell her mother didn’t even know, and she wanted it to stay that way.
Dean snorted, pulling his faded blue t-shirt over his head to settle, perfectly over the curve of his muscles. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific there, and can you stop shouting,”
“You know exactly what I mean! What happened last night! I still can’t believe you just made that decision for me-”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Dean said, holding his hands up, his face the picture of confused. “What the hell are you talking about? What decision did I make for you?” His eyebrows were quirked up in confusion.
“Are you trying to tell me you don’t remember because you drank too much goddamn WHISKEY?!”
“Shit, calm the hell down. I can’t even remember why I went out last night to get drunk when there’s a perfectly good bar down the hall, and now you’re shouting at me about a decision I ‘supposedly’ made for you and I can’t even remember!!!” Dean hissed back at her, eyes narrowed to slits.
“Please, are you trying to tell me you don’t remember kissing me last night?” Jo scoffed, folding her arms and rolling her eyes.
There was a beat of silence. Jo looked up then, embarrassed because Dean really didn’t remember.
“I kissed you?” He asked voice quiet.
There was another beat of silence. Jo dropped her arms and bit her lip, not meeting Dean’s eyes.
“Um, yeah.” Her face flushed hotly, hurt that Dean didn’t remember, and embarrassed because she had spoken so bluntly.
“Oh,” His face was open and a little stunned but, thankfully not nauseated at the concept.
“Yeah,”
The silence this time dragged.
Jo looked at her feet, her face red from embarrassment and not looking at Dean said, “Don’t worry about it, it was nothing. A mistake. Sorry, I’ll just-,”
She was turning to go, shame flooding through her when a hand, soft and hesitant touched her shoulder. She stopped, her hand reaching for the door knob and Dean turned her around. His face was tilted down to her level. He was biting his bottom lip, worrying at the pink flesh.
“What ever,” He said softly, eyes lowered, lashes kissing his cheeks. “What ever happened last night, it wasn’t a mistake.”
And then he kissed her, big, warm hands framing her face.
All that Jo could think, when Dean pulled away, was that the kiss hadn’t lasted long enough, so it wasn’t her fault that a tiny whimper escaped her mouth and she tried to follow his lips when he pulled away with a slick noise.
“Jo,” He said eyes wide and for some reason he looked panicked as if he finally remembered why he had gone out and gotten drunk last night. The hell if she knew why this couldn’t happen. “Jo I can’t, not now,” His breath sucked in fast and he took a step back away from her. Jo tilted her head to the side, confused and hurt but Dean had not said he didn’t feel the same way.
With a deep breath she stepped towards him, stepped into his space and felt the warmth radiating from him. She reached up to touch his face, to cup her fingers around his jaw and rub a drop of water from his cheek with her thumb. At the contact Dean shut his eyes, biting his already swollen bottom lip. He took another deep shuddering breath as Jo leaned up, tugging on his neck and kissed him.
This time the kiss was longer.
It wasn’t a drunken/high on-pain-meds fumbling kiss.
It wasn’t chaste and too short.
It was everything she had thought it would be and nothing like it at the same time.
Dean’s lips were soft and warm, and Jo pressed forwards, leaning her body into the furnace that was his body and kissed him harder. She licked at his mouth, tasting his pink lips and tugging at his plush bottom lip wanting to get deeper, deeper into this man before her. She brought her other hand up to capture his face, to keep him with her and shuddered when Dean wound a hand into the hair at the nape of her neck. She breathed a sigh against his mouth and suddenly he pressed down against her, licking at her mouth.
And then he stopped suddenly.
She should have realised that it was too good to be true.
She should have realised he would pull away.
He used the hand wound in her locks to dislodge her lips from his and he looked pained.
When Dean pulled away, put his hands on the tops of her arms - like a brother would a sister - she flushed. This rejection, his rejection of her struck her hard and fast in the gut. She sniffed and blinked back tears and pulled out of his grip. It didn’t help that the expression on his face was anguished and pain-filled.
“Jo,” Dean said, fingers like brands against her skin. “Jo,” He said again, his voice rough and it told her a thousand things. And then he moved, dragging his hands to her face, tracing her brow and cheeks with calloused fingers, with devotion. She looked at him and he was flushed, eyes bright, fever-like with pupils blown wide and black leaving only a thin ring of evergreen to sparkle in the sun. Jo almost moaned when Dean wrapped his fingers into her hair again, this time to pull her to him. Dean smelt of soap and musk and he was perfect.
His lips were hot and slick as he licked his way into her mouth, pulling on her bottom lip and sucking on her tongue. Shock and pleasure thrummed through her as Dean pulled her, tugged her body until it was flush against his, and Dean was all hard lines and smooth, damp muscles. He looked wild. Wild and beautiful.
She touched him then, bringing her hands up to fist at the nape of his neck, to grip his bare shoulders and feel the muscle there, feel the power that pulsed through his body. And Dean groaned, sliding a big, warm palm down her spine to rest at the small of her back. His other hand gripped her leg, pulling her flush against him. But most importantly was the fact that Jo could taste him and Dean was kissing her, devouring her.
He was kissing her like he wanted to climb inside her.
He was kissing her like it was the end of the world and she was his salvation.
He was kissing her like he was saying goodbye.
*****
“Jo,” Dean said as he gripped her tightly, trying to ground himself because he couldn’t, he couldn’t, “Jo,” He repeated somewhat brokenly as he touched her face. He traced her brow, followed the curve of her cheeks. Then wrapped his fingers into her smooth, blonde hair and stared at her. He stared at her flushed face and slanted eyes framed with thick, dark lashes. Stared at her lips, at the way they parted when he leaned towards her, breathing her scent in.
Then before he could stop himself, Dean found himself kissing her. He licked at her mouth, at her cupids bow and bottom lip, relishing in the shudder that shook her body and pulled her against him, feeling her all soft curves and long lines. He couldn’t do this, but he had to, he had to because-
He was against the door and Jo was against him. He slanted his mouth over hers, and groaned into her mouth when she reached up to touch him. Jo’s fingers were hesitant as they fisted in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. They trembled when they gripped his bare shoulders and held on, and Dean could tell she was unsure if he meant this. So he touched her back, smoothing a hand down her spine to rest at the curve at the base of her back, just above the swell of her ass. His other hand gripped a leg and pulled her up flush against his hips so she could feel that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. And Jo gasped and shuddered, rocking her hips against his.
Dean gasped into her mouth, pulling away from those lips with a slick sound and latched onto her neck, licking and kissing and biting his way down to her collar bone under her strappy red top. She whimpered as he nibbled on the space where her neck met shoulder and sucked a bruise there.
“Dean,” she gasped, and her voice was rough and rung out, “Dean, oh god,” she fumbled to touch his face.
Dean closed his eyes at the touch of her fingers curving around his jaw, at the feel of her hot palms on his cheeks and thumbs stroking underneath his eyes. He looked up, through his eyelashes and licked his lips watching as she shuddered and tracked the movement of his tongue. So he did it again. He flicked his tongue out across his bottom lip and then sunk his teeth in.
This time it was Jo who devoured him. She licked over the plump fullness that was his bottom lip, sucking at it and biting down gently before pulling back and saying unevenly, “Dean,” Jo sighed as he kissed the corner of her mouth in response, “Dean, I need you,”
*****
End of Chapter 3 part 1
clicky here for the next bit!
Dude, Dean thought when he cracked his eyes open. What the hell happened last night? Did he inject alcohol into his bloodstream or something? Because his head was pounding like a group of hopped up howler monkeys had some bongo drums and were enjoying them a little too much for Dean’s liking, considering his present state. The moment he opened his eyes though, he snapped them shut again as light seared across his vision, slicing into his brain like a serrated knife.
Dean hissed in pain and rolled over, away from the brightness. When he attempted to sit up, the room spun and swirled before his eyes and a hand flew up, clasping his forehead as he fought the urge to vomit. When his stomach settled he moved again, slower this time, using the bed as leverage to get on his feet and he stood swaying by the side of the bed. It took him a moment to realise that he was only in his boxers, which meant someone must have put him to bed last night after...wait what did happen last night?
He racked his brain, thinking carefully about the last thing he could remember and pulling up a blank on all levels. So with a huff of annoyance Dean leant forwards, eyes shut against the head rush and fumbled in his duffle for a pair of jeans. Straightening again, Dean put a hand to his head, feeling hot and achy and sighed. He pulled his jeans on blearily and turned, hoping to grab a shower before he saw anyone.
So when he opened the door to his bedroom, all dishevelled and rumpled he prayed that he wouldn’t come face to face with an angry Sasquatch. His prayers were answered thankfully and he slipped quietly, albeit slowly into the bathroom across the hall. The door clicked softly shut and Dean didn’t even think to lock it, just turned to the shower, fumbling for the cold water tap and shucked his jeans and boxers off.
The water was cool and pleasant against his skin and Dean tilted his head back, eyes shut and let the water pound against his face as he leant an arm against the tiled wall. He stayed that way, motionless and quiet for a while longer and then, when he began to shiver, and the throbbing in his head reduced slightly, he twisted the hot water on and set about washing the grime of his forgotten escapades from last night off his skin.
He didn’t hear the door open.
*****
Jo looked up from her crossword when her mother walked into the room shaking her head.
“Hey Mom, what’s the matter,” she asked, placing her pen and paper down and jumping up to sit on the bar.
“I just can’t find any of the towels, hun, it’s okay I’m sure I put them somewhere-”
“Oh no, I put them in the guest bathroom. For Sam and Dean,” Jo replied, cutting her mother of mid thought. “You want me to go get some?”
“Yeah, hun, that’d be great, I’m just so swamped.” Ellen smiled, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her daughter’s ear. “Thanks,”
“S’okay,” Jo said and turned, heading for the spare bathroom. It didn’t really register in her mind that someone was using the shower until she was in the steam filled room itself.
She stopped dead in her tracks, letting the door swing shut and stared dumbly at non other than Dean Winchester, the man she had locked lips with the night before. And now here he was, stark naked in the shower, all smooth tan skin and rippling muscles. She watched through the fogged glass door of the shower as water sluiced down across his body and she followed the trail down, down, lower and lower. She watched as water ran down his chest, over his ribs, until it dipped lower, past his hips to - She pulled her gaze up quickly from the first hint of dark hair at the base of his hips and took a shuddering step back, hitting the door with a quiet thud and cringed, unable to move when Dean turned the shower off and fumbled for a towel.
He wrapped the blue fluffy towel around his slim hips and turned, stepping out of the shower all smooth skin, steaming from the heat of the water. He had his eyes closed; one hand kneading his forehead but something must have niggled at his hunter senses because Jo watched with dread as he dropped his hand quickly, shoulders tensing. Jo wished she could just die. Or slip very, very quietly and very, very quickly out of this room...which was getting increasingly warmer because. Hello! Practically naked Dean in front of her!!! Jo managed to think this in the time it took Dean to get out of the shower and realise there was someone in the room with him, which really said something about how nervous she really was...and more importantly how embarrassed she was. But when Dean opened his eyes, Jo had her back turned and was saying, ‘Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to I swear!”
“Jesus Jo, if you wanted to see me naked all you had to do was ask,” Dean drawled from behind her and Jo flushed right down to her toes.
“That’s not true! Shut up! I’m just here to collect some towels for Mom,” She replied haughtily, back still turned. She threw a hand out behind her and said, “Gimme some. And I’m not turning around because I don’t want to be traumatised for the rest of my life,” It has nothing to do with the fact that I’ll probably turn into a pile of goo if I see him partially naked again. Not at all.
“Sure, Jojo, I believe you,” He said, a smile evident in his voice, “But it’s okay, I’ve got pants on now,”
“Really?” Jo said doubtfully, because she wouldn’t put it past him to be just stood there wearing nothing at all.
“Really.” Dean replied.
There was a moments silence as Jo considered her possibilities and finally she said, “I don’t believe you.”
“Oh, for Christssake Jo, here,” He said, and shoved a handful of towels over her shoulder and shoved past her, his right hand kneading at his forehead again. She watched, bewildered as Dean strode into his and Sam’s bedroom, shutting the door without a seconds glance at her and Jo felt cold inside. What had he just forgotten last night? Pushed it from his memories because it - she was that bad? And then Jo felt angry, because this blatant dismissal was so uncalled for.
Dean jolted and spun around in shock as Jo stomped into the room letting the door close with a heavy thud. He had a t-shirt in his hands and was staring at Jo like she had just grown another head.
“What the hell is your problem?” Jo hissed, trying to stay quiet, because she didn’t want an audience for this conversation. Hell her mother didn’t even know, and she wanted it to stay that way.
Dean snorted, pulling his faded blue t-shirt over his head to settle, perfectly over the curve of his muscles. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific there, and can you stop shouting,”
“You know exactly what I mean! What happened last night! I still can’t believe you just made that decision for me-”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Dean said, holding his hands up, his face the picture of confused. “What the hell are you talking about? What decision did I make for you?” His eyebrows were quirked up in confusion.
“Are you trying to tell me you don’t remember because you drank too much goddamn WHISKEY?!”
“Shit, calm the hell down. I can’t even remember why I went out last night to get drunk when there’s a perfectly good bar down the hall, and now you’re shouting at me about a decision I ‘supposedly’ made for you and I can’t even remember!!!” Dean hissed back at her, eyes narrowed to slits.
“Please, are you trying to tell me you don’t remember kissing me last night?” Jo scoffed, folding her arms and rolling her eyes.
There was a beat of silence. Jo looked up then, embarrassed because Dean really didn’t remember.
“I kissed you?” He asked voice quiet.
There was another beat of silence. Jo dropped her arms and bit her lip, not meeting Dean’s eyes.
“Um, yeah.” Her face flushed hotly, hurt that Dean didn’t remember, and embarrassed because she had spoken so bluntly.
“Oh,” His face was open and a little stunned but, thankfully not nauseated at the concept.
“Yeah,”
The silence this time dragged.
Jo looked at her feet, her face red from embarrassment and not looking at Dean said, “Don’t worry about it, it was nothing. A mistake. Sorry, I’ll just-,”
She was turning to go, shame flooding through her when a hand, soft and hesitant touched her shoulder. She stopped, her hand reaching for the door knob and Dean turned her around. His face was tilted down to her level. He was biting his bottom lip, worrying at the pink flesh.
“What ever,” He said softly, eyes lowered, lashes kissing his cheeks. “What ever happened last night, it wasn’t a mistake.”
And then he kissed her, big, warm hands framing her face.
All that Jo could think, when Dean pulled away, was that the kiss hadn’t lasted long enough, so it wasn’t her fault that a tiny whimper escaped her mouth and she tried to follow his lips when he pulled away with a slick noise.
“Jo,” He said eyes wide and for some reason he looked panicked as if he finally remembered why he had gone out and gotten drunk last night. The hell if she knew why this couldn’t happen. “Jo I can’t, not now,” His breath sucked in fast and he took a step back away from her. Jo tilted her head to the side, confused and hurt but Dean had not said he didn’t feel the same way.
With a deep breath she stepped towards him, stepped into his space and felt the warmth radiating from him. She reached up to touch his face, to cup her fingers around his jaw and rub a drop of water from his cheek with her thumb. At the contact Dean shut his eyes, biting his already swollen bottom lip. He took another deep shuddering breath as Jo leaned up, tugging on his neck and kissed him.
This time the kiss was longer.
It wasn’t a drunken/high on-pain-meds fumbling kiss.
It wasn’t chaste and too short.
It was everything she had thought it would be and nothing like it at the same time.
Dean’s lips were soft and warm, and Jo pressed forwards, leaning her body into the furnace that was his body and kissed him harder. She licked at his mouth, tasting his pink lips and tugging at his plush bottom lip wanting to get deeper, deeper into this man before her. She brought her other hand up to capture his face, to keep him with her and shuddered when Dean wound a hand into the hair at the nape of her neck. She breathed a sigh against his mouth and suddenly he pressed down against her, licking at her mouth.
And then he stopped suddenly.
She should have realised that it was too good to be true.
She should have realised he would pull away.
He used the hand wound in her locks to dislodge her lips from his and he looked pained.
When Dean pulled away, put his hands on the tops of her arms - like a brother would a sister - she flushed. This rejection, his rejection of her struck her hard and fast in the gut. She sniffed and blinked back tears and pulled out of his grip. It didn’t help that the expression on his face was anguished and pain-filled.
“Jo,” Dean said, fingers like brands against her skin. “Jo,” He said again, his voice rough and it told her a thousand things. And then he moved, dragging his hands to her face, tracing her brow and cheeks with calloused fingers, with devotion. She looked at him and he was flushed, eyes bright, fever-like with pupils blown wide and black leaving only a thin ring of evergreen to sparkle in the sun. Jo almost moaned when Dean wrapped his fingers into her hair again, this time to pull her to him. Dean smelt of soap and musk and he was perfect.
His lips were hot and slick as he licked his way into her mouth, pulling on her bottom lip and sucking on her tongue. Shock and pleasure thrummed through her as Dean pulled her, tugged her body until it was flush against his, and Dean was all hard lines and smooth, damp muscles. He looked wild. Wild and beautiful.
She touched him then, bringing her hands up to fist at the nape of his neck, to grip his bare shoulders and feel the muscle there, feel the power that pulsed through his body. And Dean groaned, sliding a big, warm palm down her spine to rest at the small of her back. His other hand gripped her leg, pulling her flush against him. But most importantly was the fact that Jo could taste him and Dean was kissing her, devouring her.
He was kissing her like he wanted to climb inside her.
He was kissing her like it was the end of the world and she was his salvation.
He was kissing her like he was saying goodbye.
*****
“Jo,” Dean said as he gripped her tightly, trying to ground himself because he couldn’t, he couldn’t, “Jo,” He repeated somewhat brokenly as he touched her face. He traced her brow, followed the curve of her cheeks. Then wrapped his fingers into her smooth, blonde hair and stared at her. He stared at her flushed face and slanted eyes framed with thick, dark lashes. Stared at her lips, at the way they parted when he leaned towards her, breathing her scent in.
Then before he could stop himself, Dean found himself kissing her. He licked at her mouth, at her cupids bow and bottom lip, relishing in the shudder that shook her body and pulled her against him, feeling her all soft curves and long lines. He couldn’t do this, but he had to, he had to because-
He was against the door and Jo was against him. He slanted his mouth over hers, and groaned into her mouth when she reached up to touch him. Jo’s fingers were hesitant as they fisted in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. They trembled when they gripped his bare shoulders and held on, and Dean could tell she was unsure if he meant this. So he touched her back, smoothing a hand down her spine to rest at the curve at the base of her back, just above the swell of her ass. His other hand gripped a leg and pulled her up flush against his hips so she could feel that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. And Jo gasped and shuddered, rocking her hips against his.
Dean gasped into her mouth, pulling away from those lips with a slick sound and latched onto her neck, licking and kissing and biting his way down to her collar bone under her strappy red top. She whimpered as he nibbled on the space where her neck met shoulder and sucked a bruise there.
“Dean,” she gasped, and her voice was rough and rung out, “Dean, oh god,” she fumbled to touch his face.
Dean closed his eyes at the touch of her fingers curving around his jaw, at the feel of her hot palms on his cheeks and thumbs stroking underneath his eyes. He looked up, through his eyelashes and licked his lips watching as she shuddered and tracked the movement of his tongue. So he did it again. He flicked his tongue out across his bottom lip and then sunk his teeth in.
This time it was Jo who devoured him. She licked over the plump fullness that was his bottom lip, sucking at it and biting down gently before pulling back and saying unevenly, “Dean,” Jo sighed as he kissed the corner of her mouth in response, “Dean, I need you,”
*****
End of Chapter 3 part 1
clicky here for the next bit!