Bela's golden skin gleamed, forest green eyes glittered with adrenaline, rosy color adorned glowing cheeks, and her glossy tawny hair tumbling in loose, casual curls over her bare shoulders and down to the small of her exposed back. She was clad in a fitted black silk and lace evening gown that swept the floor and dipped to her waspish waist from behind to reveal a slender back. A modest front was more than made up for by a clean slit in her skirt that revealed a flash of long, slim thigh.
She was all velvet skin, sleek curves atop long, lean legs, amber silk masquerading as hair, shimmering emerald eyes concealed by a swift down sweep of thick, lush ebony lashes that cast dramatic, elongated shadows down her high cheekbones. A slender neck led to graceful shoulders and toned arms, a subtle swell of breasts under her lacy midnight bodice, and miniscule waistline and hips, which was swiftly followed by a pair of legs designed to make a man sweat.
And damned if Dean wasn't starting to feel the telltale moisture along his palms.
Bela blinked slowly, shooting him a seductive little smirk form beneath her lashes and pressing the tip of her pink tongue against her scarlet top lip. She was darkly pleased by the way Dean's gaze jerked down, amused when she noted the slight irritation in his smoky eyes.
She raised her flute of pink champagne to her parted lips, never taking her glimmering eyes off his smoldering ones. Tipping her head to one side, causing her shimmering dark gold hair to cascade over one creamy shoulder and along the column of her neck and testing Dean's patience and control with every inch of satiny skin the silk strands brushed against, she locked her gaze with his. "So, enjoying the party?"
"It would be better with shots of whiskey and vodka instead of wine but overall, I'm glad I didn't miss it."
She lifted one slender shoulder, causing the thin black strap to slide a bit and Dean's mouth to water, and quirked the corner of her mouth into a half smile, half smirk. "I'm sure."
Dean swallowed hard, and determinedly kept his gaze on her amused emerald eyes. "I shouldn't have to attend one of these stupid banquets to talk to you."
His tone was irritated, but she sensed there was much, much more sizzling under the surface than mere annoyance at yanking on a suit. "You wanted an audience with me," she purred, raising her eyebrows questioningly at him. Her lips moved into a pout, irresistible and stunning and with no other purpose than making Dean's blood pressure rise. From his narrowed gaze, Bela would hazard a guess that it was working. "Something I can help you with, Dean?"
He stared at her. It was a ridiculous question for a beautiful woman, clad in skimpy black silk and stilettos, to ask of him, and especially since that woman was Bela Talbot, whom he was fairly certain was attempting to make his head explode.
"I need info on the sapphire talisman you stole three days ago," he replied bluntly once he found his voice. His gaze hardened on her smirking features, causing her to snag a couple of champagne flutes from a passing waiter.
"What makes you think I have-"
"Come on," Dean said impatiently. "I know you stole it, I just need to know where it is."
"Why?" She studied him carefully, her head tilted to the side. Her fingers were wrapped loosely along the stem of the flute, but her knuckles were white with tension.
Handsome he might be, but that didn't mean she was about to start giving away her hard earned (well, stolen, but that didn't mean that they weren't hers now) objects whenever he held out his hand and said the word.
"It's cursed, you know that. We need to trap an aswang in Louisiana, and we need the sapphire talisman to do it."
Bela cautiously lowered her voice, her glittering green eyes narrowed. Suddenly, she was all business. "It's currently going for twenty thousand dollars on the black market so unless you can top that-"
"Do you even know what an aswang is?"
The impatient lilt in his voice made her flinch and she set her flute down onto a long table on her left. "Keep your voice down," she hissed. "This is a banquet, not a diner, Dean. You may be wearing a suit, but that doesn't mean you can blow off all other sensibilities."
He opened his mouth to respond furiously when she ran a hand through her hair, artfully tousling the already wavy strands, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Keeping her eyes on his, she suggested, "Why don't you dance with me and tell me about it on the dance floor?"
"An aswang is a vampire-like creature," Dean informed her lowly, dipping her into a deep bend. As she came back up, he spun her away from him then back close to him. Her hips were pressed to his and in her heels, she was only two inches shorter than he was. "It's from the Philippines, western regions."
Her lips curled up as he twirled her around the dance floor and began to realize that she was having fun. "What's it doing in Louisiana," Bela returned evenly, her head thrown back dramatically in the beat to the music.
Dean placed his hands on either sides of her slim waist, and slowly spun around with her as the tempo of the music slowed momentarily. The piano tinkled melodramatically from the band, and a few strings of violin sang of a stunning, beautiful gypsy. With her bold emerald eyes, the elegant column of her neck, the arches of her brows, Dean could easily imagine Bela with delicate gold chains encircling her wrists, ankles, and neck while she whirled about to a violin. Shaking himself out of the image, Dean dipped her back in a graceful arch of her bare back.
When he brought her back up, he was pleased to notice the flush staining her high cheekbones, and the curve of her lips. He pressed her close to him, feeling the pounding of her heart, the shallow intake of breath. "Eating the corpses of a local cemetery apparently."
"Charming," she returned breathlessly, her hips swaying subtly as she raised their joined hands and spun them both under the arch.
"Not really. It's described as a witch with leathery wings and sharp fangs."
"Vampire?"
Dean shook his head and let her rest her head against his chest for a second while the music slowed to a soothing beat, the piano pounding out a few last notes before finally giving way to the violin. "It's vampire-like but it doesn't suck blood. It's also described as looking like a bat, dog, or snake." Her warm breath ghosted across his jaw line as she looked up, and he felt a searing pang of heat slide through his gut at the look she sent him through her fringe of long lashes. To distract himself, he continued, "It follows its victims at night. Supposedly it walks with its feet facing backwards."
Another song came on, slower than the first, and Bela smiled up at him. It sliced cleanly through his defenses and Dean felt his pulse scramble under her amused pleasure in the simple dance. "Shall we?"
Bela accepted, as he had predicted, and they began to sway in time to a classic, aging waltz. "Where did you learn to dance, Dean?"
He laughed, and the rumble sounded through his chest, where she pressed a hand. "Years ago, for a job not so different from the one."
Her heart leapt to her throat, and she struggled to keep her voice even. "What, how many gorgeous, charming, intelligent female thieves do you know?"
Dean suppressed a laugh at her tone, and wondered if she knew how cute she was when she was jealous. "I meant," he continued, lowering his mouth to her ear, "I meant a banquet, Lugosi."
His breath was warm along the top of her ear and she thought she could feel his lips on her skin. Forcing a laugh, she tilted her glance up, channeling her embarrassment into being amiably nonchalant. With a calculatedly careless, Bela tossed her head back, her chin angled high. "Of course you did. Tell me more about the aswang," she purred.
He decided to let that one slide and replied, "They replace the corpses with a banana tree carving that resembles the deceased they just consumed. Fun stuff."
"They're dead, Dean. They don't need saving."
"No," he agreed amicably. "But the people who they eat while they're still alive do need saving."
Bela held back a sigh, pouting again. This time, however, was considerably less calculated and for some reason, a lot more appealing. Dean tried to ignore the fact, and avoided looking at her mouth, which was a tell in itself. "Alright," she conceded. "It's lousy that they're going to die. I mean it. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to give up twenty thousand dollars worth of cursed sapphire just to spare-"
She was cut off abruptly as Dean tugged on her wrists, pulling her towards the long stretch of dark hallways and away from the party. "What the hell do you think you're doing," she demanded in shock as he finally let go of her once they were a few yards down the hallway. The hallway was freezing and in her skimpy backless silk dress with the slit up the thigh, her skin had erupted in chills.
She yanked her wrist away from Dean's hand angrily as he wrenched open a random door. He led her to a couch in the corner of the room, flicking on a tiny lamp with his free hand. The light was sketchy at best; it wouldn't even be visible from the hallway.
Perfect.
He locked the door carelessly, and wrapped his arms around her, breathed in the scent of her hair. Honey and raspberries.
He trailed kisses along the curve of her neck, his hands resting lightly on her waist. Dean dropped kisses on her eyelids, which had fluttered shut, whispered secrets in her wild mane of silk, purred against the creamy skin of her throat. Bela's back arched involuntarily, and she fisted her hands in his hair, eyes gleaming in the near dark.
Then stammered, "Wait. Wait."
Dean paused, his head drifting up from her collarbones where he had placing feather light kisses. "Mmm?"
Her lips parted, but no sound came out. "I don't think this is a good idea," she said finally, the words leaving her in a rush.
"Any particular reason," he asked silkily, his fingers moving up to massage the knots in her upper back.
"I – oh – I mean," she heaved a deep breath then blew out the air from her lips just as heavily. "Dean, stop."
He gazed down at her, nose to nose. Her eyes were wide and a whirlwind of emotion. "If you tell me not to kiss you, I won't," Dean told her steadily. "As it is, I'll settle for a nod."
Swallowing hard, Bela moved her head up barely two inches. An amused smirk lit up Dean's face. "Okay, Lugosi."
And then she surprised him, because she kissed him.
If he had to describe it, Dean would probably have called it magic or some shit. Sparks and fireworks and need and hunger and desire and-
That's when she opened her mouth and his mind shut off completely.
A/N: I'd love to get feedback on this! I notice that it's the same people who read or favorite without reviewing so be sure to tell me what you think. Please let me know if you think someone is out of character and suggestions or prompts for another fic are always welcome. I may not accept all of them, but if they fit into my ship and I have both the time and inclination, I will try to get to them! Thanks.