Page 50 of Dean

Or two someones. Like I said earlier, Ford and Cash are out to get him and I wonder if they know they’re both after the same guy. Or maybe they’re tag-teaming. And Ben, well shit, he’s got to feel guilty about it. Those are his dad’s best friends.

I mean, I sure as fuck would feel bad…mostly.

Probably not, honestly.

But then again, I have the moral compass of a demon, apparently.

I do want Ben to like me though. I really do. I don’t want him upset that I am crushing on his dad. The chances of Dean going for me are slim to none though, so there’s nothing really to worry about.

I just slept in his bed last night. Nothing else happened. Nothing ever will happen.

“Do you have any idea why Ben’s acting like that?” Dean asks, and I jump slightly. I was so deep in my thoughts that I missed his appearance in the office entirely.

“Nope. No clue. Not even a hint of a clue.”

Dean runs a hand over his face, his short stubble abrading his palm, making the most delicious sound. I want that sound between my thighs while he sucks my cock.

But I digress. That’s not why he’s in here.

“Hey, Dean, I know you’re worried, but ask him about it when you think he’s ready. He may need some space.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I think you can let him know you’re around if he needs to talk though. But don’t push it.”

He meets my gaze and rolls his lips between his teeth in thought. “Yeah, guess you’re right. I just worry, you know?”

“You’re a dad. Of course you do.”

I move toward him and his eyes sweep down to my legs, and I can’t help the dirty thoughts that filter through my brain once more. I can’t help it.

I really have no choice but to think them.

My hand lands on his chest, and Dean takes a deep breath. “Hey, have you eaten today?”

As if in response, his stomach rumbles. “No. Just those shitty eggs I made this morning.”

“All right, well, I packed us a lunch. Come on. You need to eat before your anxiety gives you an ulcer.”

He grumbles as I move toward the fridge and bend down, pulling the sack lunch out and then standing up straight.

As I do, Dean clears his throat, and I pretend not to notice how he adjusts himself slightly.

Was that because of me? I don’t fucking know. Probably not.

Oh god, but what if it was? What if he wants me too?

I can’t go there or it’ll end up with us in Vegas. Marriage by coercion.

“Here, I made us sandwiches.”

I lead him over to the desk and sit down next to him, setting the food on his lap.

He unwraps it and takes a small bite.

“Yeah, this is nice.” He leans back and swallows. My eyes track his Adam’s apple bobbing and I shift in my seat. I mean, that’s probably what he’d look like as he swallowed my cum.

Like just one big gulp.

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