A/N: Had a whole class period that was an hour and a half long, was bored and it was a free homework period anyways, so I wrote this. I realized that I've read so many fantastic fan fictions, but I could never find one that described Dean to a perfect nail, so I thought I'd give a go at it. And I honestly have to say I am pleased with this little turn of events. Enjoy! :)
I never really could explain things well, and when the question my friend always asked about whenever I met a guy, came popping into my head, I knew I had to pay close attention to the next one I came across. Here I was, in a library, just reading on books that held potential and yet didn't quite keep my focus as I stared around the room for lurkers. There was the dedicated researched, the honor student, the lonely, the shy, but never would I have expected a person like him to be here.
"Okay Ashley, your question will finally be answered," I muttered under my breath. My book slowly dropped to the table along with my elbow that landed next to it, resting my head on the palm of my hand as my hair curtained me. I pretended to be really into the novel, while I managed to watch him from a far.
The way he walked into the room, commanding the atmosphere to his will and I knew he led a life that said he did this often; never on purpose, but just enough to wonder what else he could control. He had knowledge of self and a sense of alert with every step, like was waiting for something bad to happen or jump out at him. The man took long bow legged strides, squaring his shoulders, hands swinging freely by his side, yet holding tension.
Oh god, his hands…big, soft, and full of promise. He had talent within them, but he didn't need anyone to tell him that.
Soon my gaze dropped lower, taking in the small far away sounds of the biker boots planting and unearthing themselves from the carpet. Never really understood why people had foot fetishes, but I think I might be getting a clue as to how they could find it interesting. Past the jean clad legs came his torso.
Layer upon layer of shirts creased and smoothed out, instantly with each movement. The layers though, left much to the imagination, filling my mind with images of well-toned abs and pecks that passed my mental inspection. If only the possibility to reach underneath and trace the mountainous sin slowly with my fingertips and palms. One word could describe the feel…craftsmanship.
Arms made of steel, round muscled perfection, enough to take control when needed, and the words "Army Strong" finally held more meaning to me. He was built like a warrior ready for battle, body used as a weapon and obstacle. My eyes shifted back down to his hands, for some reason they caught my heart in my chest, but those calloused hands were made for hard work and tantalizing one at the slightest touch.
Before I could analyze any other part of him, he disappeared behind a bookshelf. I cursed mentally at the cruel tall piece of wood, but figured maybe it could be used to my advantage. I stood up, closing my book to head down the aisle over from the one he was in; of course my book didn't belong down this area, but what people don't know, won't hurt them.
When I saw a glimpse of material from a shirt that I recognized him wearing, I removed some books about chin height for a man his size; my guess was six foot and boy did it hit right on the dot with that assumption. I found myself staring at his lips, law line and nose, and found them intricate and well defined. Jaw line strong and masculine, cutting through the soft, slightly stubble skin that looked to be carved like a statue. God, to feel the light prickle upon my cheek, neck, hand…body, that sensory detail would be mind boggling and numbing.
Next came the lips…I didn't realize I was moving farther down, not tearing away from the sight, not daring to miss a blip, as I removed bunches of books after the other to keep him in view. Lips were plump, pink and poised; women's lips that carried the appeal and hunger of a man. No doubt they'd be soft and gentle, yet harsh and promising at the same time. What lay beyond the exterior certainly drew one's mind crazy and desperate for a taste.
I didn't have time to stop it from slipping, but at least I managed to stifle the moan emitting from my throat by closing my mouth. Who knows what could've happened if I let that out full blast. Man, Ashley should've told me how studying a man in this depth was like sex, because I wasn't sure I could onto my silent ninja mode I had going on any longer.
Not knowing when you've reached the end of your camouflage, can be quite embarrassing, and when I yelped, running into the man I felt physically drawn to, all information I had gathered about him had vanished. Fort Knox was empty.
"Sorry, he apologized, words rolling from his mouth and tongue like silk, but my attention was no longer there. They had drifted upwards, onto the nose broken too many times to count, and into the pool of green orb ponds staring back at my blue.
Emotions, hardships, lust, pain, and so much more poured from those eyes he carried. I could almost feel and experience everything he had felt, or was feeling at the contact we held. It was like he was giving me a skyscraper image through clear windows to his soul, and I knew for a fact that he wasn't aware of it happening. What had this man gone through?
I reverted back to the present and a grin reached, no, masked, the green, bringing forth that empowering lust, want, and need as he scanned my appearance. I never thought myself so much of an interest to him, or a person of his suaveness, but the grin spoke silent volumes saying that I was.
"No, I should be apologizing," I began, "I wasn't paying attention."
"Are you sure about that?" he asked, cocking his eyebrow and twisting his lips into a grin that drove me nearly breathless.
Suddenly, I realized that I wasn't being as "ninja" as I thought I was, and that he had known that I was ogling him from the very moment he set foot into the place.
"Yeah," I stuttered. Great, not only was he going to see I was lying, but I hugely affected by him.
"How about this…I'll buy you are a beer and that will be apology enough," he suggested. Immediately, I was hooked. Sure, a one-night stand might occur, but this was a memory that I was definitely not going to forget with this heavenly creature standing before me.
That weekend, I met up with Ashley at the town coffee shop, discussing my whole week and then meeting a particular guy.
"So, what was he like?" Ashley asked.
"How come you assume that we had sex?" I asked back, answering her question with a question.
"I'm not just talking about the sex, I am asking about what he looked like also," she replied.
"Dean was great, and good looking."
"Yeah, but what was he like?" she whined pleading for more than that.
Should I tell her? Do I even want to spoil the perfect bubble of that evening? Nah.
~Fini
Author End Note: Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it till the very last drop as if it were hot chocolate or coffee. Mmmm…coffee…Lol. Thanks again for reading and please review.
Tori