I smiled as I watched him unroll the condom onto his fully erect penis. As he crawled back onto my body, I let him know just how I felt about his responsibility by spreading my legs even wider. I knew I was extremely wet; I had wanted this all night.
He entered my temple slowly, and I wrapped my arms around him as he filled me. He slowly pumped into me as he looked in my eyes, obviously searching for a sign that I was enjoying myself. I searched his face, biting my lip and writhing under his solid body.
I watched his biceps flex as he moved his body back and forth. His pecs hardened as he positioned himself for maximum pleasure. I even stole a glance behind him, watching that ass of his as he moved up and down, undulating like a snake. Everything about Dean turned me on, and when those piercing blue eyes met mine, I felt like I could melt there in his arms.
Suddenly, he grabbed my hips in his hands and rolled to one side. The bed was big enough that there was no way we could fall off, but I still screamed as I felt the butterflies in my stomach. Dean stayed within me as he rolled, and soon I was on top of him. I leaned up, intending to give him a show, but his strong hands went to my shoulders, pulling me back down on top of him.
He began to thrust upwards into me, and I was trapped against his muscular chest. He moved into me quickly, a grimace forming on his face. He started slowing down, as if he didn't want this to be over yet. He seemed to relax a little bit, as if he was backing away from his orgasm, and he let go of me so that I could take charge. I arched my back, grinding against him, giving him the most pleasure that I could.
The grimace returned, but he didn't try to stop me. Instead, he grabbed my hips and moved at my tempo. I watched as a light sheen of sweat formed on his skin. He locked eyes with me, and then he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. His strong hands gripped me even harder, and I knew I'd have a couple of bruises. I didn't care. I cried out louder than ever as I felt him jerk under me, finally finding release.
A few moments later, I stopped grinding. I felt myself falling onto his sweaty chest, putting my ear against it and listening to his racing heartbeat. His breathing returned to normal, and soon his heart rate slowed as well. I laid there, enjoying the feeling of this strong man underneath me. He pulled out of me, quickly tying the condom up and throwing it to the floor. His hands immediately returned to my back, his fingernails rubbing up and down my spine. Every touch from him sent tingles through me.
I raised my head from its place on his chest, and looked him in the eye. I had been in this position before, and I'd always felt embarrassed, like I should get dressed quickly. Not this time, though. This time, I felt like this was where I belonged. I felt like it was right.
Dean must have felt right too. "Hey, Rachel."
"Hey, Dean," I quickly said back to him.
"Would you go surfing with me tomorrow morning? The swells are supposed to be amazing on this coast," he said, sounding a little sheepish.
I smiled at him. "You mean you don't want this to be a one-night stand?" I asked.
He shrugged, then threw on a cocky grin. "I mean, I'm here for another few days, and I like you just fine."
I rolled my eyes. "I guess I'm around for a few days as well, and I like you just fine too."
He smiled and closed his eyes. "Good." Like tons of other men, it seemed like he was about to roll over and fall asleep.
I rolled off of his muscular body and snuggled up next to him, using his arm as a pillow. "Since I'm going to be surfing so early in the morning, I might as well spend the night here," I said.
"Might as well," he said. Then, he really surprised me. He turned toward me and gave me a kiss on the top of my head. A man had never done that to me.
We were both completely spent, totally sweaty, and closer than either of us had ever been with another person.
Chapter 5
Present Day
Half of a turkey sandwich stared up at me, daring me to eat it, but I just couldn't find the appetite. I had eaten the first half, and had even enjoyed it, but my aching heart was taking up all the space in my body and I just didn't have room to fit the sandwich. I pushed the food away, the plate making a soft grating noise along the wood table.
The Saunders family portrait stared out at me from across the table. It was one from when the two boys were young. Dean stood next to his father, his hair neat and eyes bright. Robbie, his younger brother, sat on his mother's knee. Despite the outward calm of the picture, I remembered running around trying to catch Robbie to make his hair lay flat for the picture. He had run around the studio like a wild child, eventually tripping and scraping his knee. I could see the edge of the bandage poking out from beneath his shorts.
The table vibrated. I looked askance at the plate, wondering if I had angered the turkey sandwich gods by not eating it; I hadn't pushed it that hard when the tabled buzzed again. Shaking my head at my thoughts, I picked up my phone and the table stopped humming. It was a number I didn't recognize, but that was common enough with my work phone.
"Rachel Weber, how may I help you?"
"Hi Rachel. It's Robbie. I, uh... I need you to come get me." Robbie's voice crackled over the line. His words slurred together just enough that I knew he had been drinking. I sighed. When Robbie was on land, he was always drinking. Some days I was glad he was on his boat just because I knew that meant he was sober. Robbie had a strict rule that he never, ever sailed drunk.
"All right. Where are you? I'll send a car." If I knew Robbie, he was at the bar by the marina in a small town a couple of hours north of the Saunders' mansion. I had picked him up there more than once, to the point where the owner knew my car on sight.
Robbie stayed silent for a moment. "I'm actually gonna need you to come get me. Not just send a car." Uh-oh. This wasn't going to be an easy bar-run.
"Where are you, Robbie?" I managed to keep my voice even. Getting angry with him never worked. It was because I ke
pt calm that he trusted me. There was a reason he never called his mother or brother to get him. It meant several three-o'clock in the morning phone calls, but at least that also meant that he always told me the truth.
"Winchester..." Robbie said. "in the county jail."