Page 47 of It's Only Love

“You drive me crazy,” he whispered, his hot breath tickling her ear again. A soft moan escaped her and she pressed herself against him tighter, wishing they were alone. Dean placed the rest of his hand under her top and flattened his palm against her back, splaying his fingers and dabbling with her bra strap. So badly she wanted him to unhook her bra and move his hands round to cup her, stroking her nipples like he had before. She felt them tighten at the thought. She slid her hands up the back of his neck and into his hair, tugging the strands gently. He groaned and pressed his hips into her. She felt his arousal, hard, drawing another moan from her.

Suddenly, the sultry soundtrack stopped, loud applause filled her ears and all the heat disappeared. She opened her eyes to find Dean stood a foot away from her, clapping along with the audience. She looked around, breathing heavily with awareness, the whole audience was cheering, none of them looking at her. Christy stood there a moment and then began clapping along in her dazed state, her mind elsewhere.

“I need some air,” Dean rasped, and moved past her, not meeting her eyes. Christy was left on the dance floor alone, surrounded by the rest of the crowd. She looked around and saw Beau at the bar talking to a woman. Taylor stood at one end glaring down at him, but Dean was nowhere to be seen.

Did he go outside? Should she follow him? She didn’t understand what just happened. He hadn’t been a jerk like before, he just left without a backward glance. Did he not want to be around her after all? Before when this happened, they hadn’t spoken about it. But things were different now, they had developed a friendship, which she didn’t want to ruin. She wanted to make sure he was okay, so as Justine started a new song, Christy made her way towards the door in search of Dean.

*

Dean burst out of the bar, the humid air hitting him like a wall, suffocating him, the scent from the pine trees invading his nose. He took deep breaths, trying to get enough oxygen into his lungs. He walked down the steps and around the side of the bar for some privacy while he tried to pull himself together.

Once again, he ignored his own rules, and Taylor’s warning, and asked Christy to dance. Not an upbeat, friendly dance but a heated, sexy slow dance. What had he been thinking? He hadn’t been, he just wanted her in his arms, wanted to bury himself deep inside her and stay there forever. The thought scared him as much as it aroused him. He leaned against the wall of the bar and sighed deeply.

Their dance started out innocent enough, his intentions had been pure. But as soon as her soft, curvy body came up against his, his intentions changed to…impure. It turned passionate and seductive with the music, the way her hips swayed to the beat, brushing against him with each movement. It had taken all his willpower not to drag her away and fuck her right then. She made him feel aggressive with need, primitive, stripped down to raw, animalistic base instinct of want and need. He pictured her hot little body rubbing against him, her sharp inhalations and moans in his ears. He gripped his erection through his jeans and squeezed hard, needing relief.

He needed to get out of here, to go home and take a long, cold shower. He pushed himself away from the wall and dug in his pocket for the keys to his truck. He was fine to drive, he only had one beer and hadn’t yet drunk the one Christy had gotten him, guilt flaring at the waste of her precious money. He started to walk away but stopped when he heard footsteps.

“Dean?” Christy called, his heart pounded. He couldn’t see her when he was like this, he was too worked up and he would only do something he’d regret. He flattened himself against the wall of the bar and stayed quiet, waiting.

“Dean, are you out here?” she called again, but sounded further away this time. He held his breath, hoping she would leave, her footsteps sounding fainter as she moved away.

“I know you’re still here; I can see your truck,” she called, sounding worried. He stayed still and quiet, and after a while he couldn’t hear anything and thought she left. He let out the breath he had been holding.

“Dean? Were you hiding from me?” He jumped as her voice sounded right next to him. He turned and she stood in front of him. She had come around the other side of the building and doubled back, he sighed and saw a flash of hurt cross her face.

“Hey, Christy. Sorry, I just needed some air, that’s all,” he said, she took a step forward, the moonlight shining down on her face, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glittering.

“Did I do something wrong?” she frowned; he shook his head.

“No, darlin’. I just needed a minute,” he rasped. He could see her chest rising and falling, her skin shimmering like a pearl in the moonlight. He watched as she swiped her tongue over her bottom lip and he fought back a moan, fisting his hands to keep from reaching for her.

“Then what is it?” she asked, stepping towards him and he took a step back. Worried that if she got too close, he would grab hold of her and not let go until they were both satisfied. She looked confused and reached out to him.

“Don’t touch me right now, darlin’, I’m begging you.”

“But, why, what’s going on?” she cried. He made a move to go back to the bar, back to being around other people, feeling it was the safest option.

“Dean! We’re friends, you can talk to me, what’s wrong?” she called after him, and he caved. He turned angrily and stalked back to her, grabbing her by the arms and shoving her roughly against the wall of the bar, pinning her with his pelvis. He meant to scare her a little, to make her leave him alone and then he would apologize later when he was under control. But as he pressed his arousal into her, he saw her eyes flare with heat, and she looked anything but scared.

“That’s what’s wrong, darlin’, you wanted to know, now you know,” he growled, and pushed himself away from her. Angry at himself for lashing out and behaving so badly, but he needed her gone. She was silent as she stared at him.

“Did I do that to you?” she asked tentatively, and the hope in her voice made his cock pulse hard in his jeans. He gave her a sharp nod, not trusting himself to speak, she nibbled her plump bottom lip nervously.

“The boner killer?” Her words weren’t angry, just inquisitive. He felt pain lance through him at the memory of his stupid, hurtful, and ridiculously untrue words.

“You know I didn’t mean it,” he said fiercely. He apologized so many times, but he would keep apologizing until the day he died if that’s what she needed. She nodded slowly and relief coursed through him.

“Do you want me to do something about it?”

His heart thudded in his chest as her words registered. She was offering the release he so desperately needed, the release he was craving. He closed his eyes as he fought against the tide of passion fizzing through his veins. He needed to get out of here, Taylor’s words playing through his mind, he needed to leave Christy alone, now. He tried to step around her, but she moved to block his way, damnit why was she doing this to him? If he couldn’t do this nicely it was time she met Mr. Bad Guy. He shoved her against the wall of the bar again, baring his teeth at her, menace layering his expression. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling deeply, licking a path from her neck to her ear lobe.

“Do you want to be fucked, Christy?” he rumbled, threat coating his words. She surprised him again though and instead of shoving him away in disgust she gripped his shoulders tight and gasped. He couldn’t move, couldn’t look at her, scared to see the arousal that was surely on her face. Scared she would want this as much as he did and scared because if she did, there was no way in hell he could hold back. Her grip loosened on his shoulders and she pushed him back slightly. He finally stared down into her eyes, the luminous pools clashing defiantly with his.

“Do you?” she demanded softly. He choked on the air leaving his lungs. She turned the tables on him, shocking him again. He couldn’t move as he stared at her, like he was seeing her for the first time. Truly seeing her. He should’ve known she would be a vixen, should never have tried to play this game with her, he was out of his depth. He should have gone straight home, but as he stared down, their eyes holding each other, he realized she was dropping down to her knees. Holy shit was she going to…he thought he was going to explode just at the thought. No way could he let her do this, he opened his mouth to tell her to stop, feeling ashamed of himself and his behavior, but she rubbed her hand firmly over his aching length and his eyes rolled back into his head.

He was weak, he admitted it. She rubbed her hand over him a few more times, and he watched her, his breath sawing in and out of his lungs. She unzipped his jeans and reached inside, gripping him in her hot palm. Grasping the hot, hard length of his cock and pulling it free from his pants. He looked down at her, the seductive angel, on her knees, ready to take him into her mouth, his greatest fantasy. But, he still had some decency left. He gritted his teeth as her warm breath caressed over him.

“Christy, you don’t have to do that,” he huffed out, starting to pull away from her but she tightened her grip, stopping him from moving. She looked up at him, moonlight and arousal glowing in her eyes. She gripped the base tightly and she flicked her tongue over the head of his cock, watching him the whole time.

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