I took another bite of the hearty stew, enjoying just sitting next to Dean. I felt like I was floating on air, my nerves frazzled and excited. It's just Dean, I told myself, but that was the problem. I had tried to ignore it, but today's kiss had hammered it home. I still loved him. He made me feel safe and warm, yet adventurous and exciting all at the same time. I peeked a glance over at him as he blew on his soup, his mouth making a perfect, kissable circle. I wondered if I made him feel the same way.
Before I knew it, I was scraping the bottom of the bowl. I looked down at it, surprised. I hadn't even realized I was hungry. It was the first time I had finished a meal all week. Dean looked over and grinned at my empty bowl.
"Looks like you liked it." Pride at his cooking rippled through his voice. I smiled. It had been fantastic. "Do you want some more? I have plenty."
"Maybe in a little bit. I can't believe I ate all of it. It was wonderful." I handed him my bowl and he grinned at my praise. He sauntered into the kitchen and I had to focus to keep from watching his perfect ass. The pajama pants did nothing to hide that it was as muscular as the rest of his body.
"Can I get you a drink?" he called from the kitchen.
"Um, sure. What do you have?" I asked, stretching my arms out above my head. The soft leather creaked as I stood up and followed him to the kitchen.
He was standing in his pantry, frowning at a bottle in his hands. He turned and held it up for me to see. "It looks like all I have is this champagne," he apologized. "I haven't been home for a while, and this is all I have." I noticed the repetition. He sounded a little nervous.
I took the bottle and looked at the label. It was definitely something left over from a wedding or even a New Year's Eve party, but it still sounded good. I handed it back and smiled. "Works for me."
With deliberate fingers, he unwrapped the foil and twisted the thin metal holding the cork. I jumped when the cork flew out into his waiting kitchen towel. He laughed gently and grinned at my surprise.
"Glasses are in that cabinet there," he said, gesturing with his head to one of the wooden doors. I opened it to find a neat row of glassware, and pulled out two slender glasses and set them on the counter next to him. He poured the bubbling golden liquid, and we each picked one up.
"What should we toast to?" Dean asked. He raised his glass, stopping just short of tapping mine.
"To old friends," I answered. He smiled at the similarity to our first toast with champagne.
"To old friends," he said softly, and we clinked our glasses and took a sip. I closed my eyes and was transported back in time, back to the night I met Dean. The champagne even tasted the same.
Dean was so close to me that I could feel his body heat radiating toward me. His head bent slightly so he leaned over me, the two of us almost pressed together in the small kitchen. My heart pounded in my chest, a light-headed happiness filling me up like a cup. Every fiber of my being prayed he would just lean forward a little bit more, just enough for our lips to touch. I rose onto my toes, straining to bridge the distance between us, to kiss him again.
He stepped back, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Rachel, we can't..." He looked at me, his eyes full of desire but pleading with me, as if they just wanted me to understand.
I set the glass down, smoothing my hair into it's normal tight bun, finding a spare hair-tie in my pocket. He was being the responsible one. He was the one making sure we didn't do something we were going to regret later. I hung my head, a blush searing through my cheeks.
"I'm sorry, Dean. I shouldn't have come." I turned and headed toward the door, biting my lip to keep the emotions bottled up. I could let them out once I was in the car, but I didn't want him to see me break. "Thank you for the lovely dinner."
I was two steps away from the door when his hand caught my wrist. He pulled gently, spinning me into his chest and wrapping his arms around me. His lips pressed into mine, full of need and want. I opened my mouth, his tongue slipping in and finding mine. He tasted better than anything I could have imagined.
Dean's body pressed into mine, his muscles hard and flexed as he held me to him, his gentle hands holding the back of my neck and pulling me into him. I moaned softly, the years of wanting him surging to the surface.
"Please don't go," he whispered as we both stopped to breathe. Our foreheads were pressed together, and we both took big, unsteady breaths. I couldn't have left if I wanted to. "Never leave again."
I kissed him again, wrapping my arm around his neck as he wrapped his arms around my waist. It was a hungry, desperate kiss, full of years of lost desire. I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anything in my life. And he was right there, kissing me back, asking me to stay. I felt a tear trickle down my cheek, but it was one of pure joy.
My hand went to the bottom of his shirt and pulled upward. I had wanted to touch those muscles from the moment he had opened the door. He casually raised it over his head and flung it to the floor. His blue eyes twinkled in the light of the kitchen as I ran my fingers across his flesh. He let his head fall back with a low moan. I leaned forward and kissed his hardening n**ples, tasting them like candy. His skin was delicious.
Without warning, Dean scooped me up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, drinking him in as he carried me to the bedroom. His muscles were hard and strong underneath me, and he never struggled with my weight, moving across the room as though I were light as a feather.
He set me down carefully on the tall bed, never letting the kiss between us stop. My fingers ran up and down his arms and back, desperate to touch every inch of his skin. He broke free of my kiss, pulling back and looking me over as I lay on his bed. He smiled appreciatively.
"God, you're beautiful," he whispered. He blinked as though he hadn't actually intended to say it out loud. I was glad for the dark in the room as a satisfied blush flared across my cheeks.
"Even now?" I asked quietly. I knew I wasn't the girl I had been twenty years ago, and part of me was afraid he would see only the changes.
He leaned forward, his eyes dark and full of barely contained lust. "Especially now."
His hands went to the top button of my dress shirt. His lips twitched up to one side in a cocky grin as he slowly unbuttoned, moving down to the next as soon as it was free. He leaned forward, kissing the newly revealed skin, savoring it. With every kiss, the spark of desire burned brighter within me. At the rate I was going, I was going to be a raging inferno of lust by the time he got my shirt off.
With delicious slowness, he worked his way to the last button, opening the shirt and running his fingers along my skin. A low moan of pure want escaped my lips. With every touch, every look he was igniting flames along my nerves.
His fingers traced lazy circles across my stomach, slowly creeping lower and lower to the band of my pants. The button opened easily, and I lifted my h*ps as he tugged gently on my pants. He continued with his policy of kissing every inch of skin bared to him, his tongue grazing the soft flesh of my thigh down to my calves.
I leaned my head back into the pillow, losing myself to the sensation. His teeth nibbled on the tender fold of my knee, his breath hot on my exposed skin. I lay on the bed, bare but for my panties, bra, and open shirt. Every touch sent a thrill straight into the core of my body.
Dean worked his way back up my legs, his soft kisses tickling the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I sat up, taking his chin in my fingers and bringing him in to kiss my mouth. I needed his kiss. His fingers slipped the shirt from my shoulders, and he escaped my hungry mouth to kiss their bare tops. I moaned, tangling my fingers in his short hair.
One graceful finger slid along the length of my bra strap, tracing the lacy fabric down across the tops of my br**sts. I was breathing hard, my chest rising and falling with his finger. A shiver of anticipation rolled through me.
He leaned forward and kissed the top of my right breast. My heart fluttered in my chest, the primal ache growing harder to resist. I wanted his body so badly I could taste it, but I didn't want to stop. His every touch was a drug, and I was hooked.
Dean's warm hand caressed my side, tracing the bra to the back clasp. He struggled with it for a moment, finally making a frustrated noise as the clasp refused to yield. He looked up at me, his disappointment and insurmountable need pouring over me. My breath caught at his gaze, the sheer volume of desire catching me off guard.
I giggled, twisting my hands behind me to do it myself. I felt the wire release, and slowly, I lowered the lacy fabric. I bit my lip, watching Dean's face as the fabric fell away. His eyes dilated and his mouth opened in wordless appreciation. His eyes met mine, dark and hungry. I was vibrating with want for him.
With that perfect half-smile, he reached past my ear, snagging the hair-band holding my hair. My hair fell from the makeshift bun in dark waves around my shoulders. Dean hissed with appreciation, making me feel like the most beautiful creature on the face of the earth.
"So damn beautiful," he murmured. His mouth found my breast, gently pushing me back onto the pillow with his hand. His tongue strummed the pink flesh like a guitar string, sending beautiful vibrations through my body. I pressed his head into my chest, arching my back to give him better access.
A jolt of pleasure surged through me as his fingers found my pleasure center. He made slow circles on the outside of my light pink panties, revving my internal engines to full power. I lost all sense of time and space. The only thing that existed was Dean and my pleasure. It wasn't long before the sheer intensity of the fire burning within me overcame all my senses. Ecstasy rolled through me in waves, pure bliss washing through every fiber of my being.
When I could breathe again, I reached for him. I didn't want to wait any longer. I craved him. I needed him. I had needed him for so long and I didn't have to wait any longer. I clawed at his pants, desperate to have him. He laughed as he wiggled free, showing me that he didn't have anything on underneath. No wonder his ass had looked so good.
He stood before, bathed in soft moonlight. He moved to the nightstand, fishing a small square packet from a corner drawer and hastily putting it on. He didn't want to wait any longer either.
He was between my legs in less than a moment, his masculine scent heady and intoxicating. I could feel his massive manhood pressing against me, seeking entrance, and as we made eye contact, he entered.
My body sang with pleasure. I cried out his name, feeling the two of us finally joining as one. We were no longer separate or alone. We were together. I gripped the headboard, feeling my knuckles go white as he delved deeply into me. My back arched with every thrust, wanting to take him ever deeper inside of me.
Our eyes never left one another. His winter-blue eyes peered into my soul, the two of us speaking volumes without words. He kissed me softly, his lips gentle yet insistent for more. My body was on fire for his touch, the ache unbearable. I wrapped my legs around him, and with all my strength rolled to the side.
He made a surprised growl, but grinned as he saw me straddle him. He moved his hands to the headboard, groaning softly as I began to writhe up and down, sliding and enjoying every inch of him. His face contorted into a mask of pleasure, his arms tensing as I found a rhythm.