Big Guns
by
Supernaturalgrl
PART ONE
It had been a long, slow day at The Mystic's Dream, the occult shop that Laney owned. She'd spent her time cleaning the shelves, making a new order, and doing a Tarot reading for herself. According to the cards, she was about to meet a gorgeous, mysterious man who would sweep her off her feet. Yeah, right she thought. She'd read for many people with great success over the years, but nothing the cards predicted for her ever panned out.
No customers had darkened the door at all, and certainly not the man promised by the Tarot. The shipment of merchandise she expected earlier in the morning had been delayed due to heavy fog at Seatac airport. She was about to give up the ghost and close early when the bell attached to the front door tinkled lively, signaling a visitor. Hoping for a customer instead of a curiosity seeker, she headed from her office to the front of the shop. As she entered the room, she stopped in her tracks at seeing the guy waiting at the counter. Never had she laid eyes on such a beautiful man. She was standing still, staring at him when he looked over at her and gave her a slow, sexy smile. Her breath hitched in her chest at this, and she thought Oh yeah, he know's he's got it.
The man looked Laney up and down appreciatively. Damn, she's beautiful! he thought. He much admired her pale skin and her beautiful red hair. I'd like to get some of that, he rambled on in his mind.
Willing her feet to move, she finally arrived at the counter and spoke in a small voice "Hi, how can I help you?", thinking at the same time Jesus, I'm acting like a big donkey schoolgirl!
"Well," he drawled, "I can think of a few ways you could help me, but what I need the most right now is a copy of Hunt's Encyclopaedia of Ancient and Obscure Demons." Another sexy smile punctuated the end of his sentence. Wow, look at her blush. Bet I could make a few more places on her blush...; his mind was working overdrive, and he couldn't figure out why he was so caught up in her. Sure, he'd had his share of women, and he could usually have any woman he wanted. But those situations were usually reserved for dim, smoky bars and late night backseat forays. He ordinarily didn't get tied up over someone in a freaking bookstore.
Now bright pink and almost breathless, Laney responded "I'm sorry, but that book is currently out of stock. I was expecting a couple in today, but my shipment was held up because of fog out at Seatac. I'll have it tomorrow if you'd like me to hold one for you," she offered.
"I really need it now," he said, obviously disappointed. "Damn! It's a gift for my brother, for his birthday." But I wouldn't mind coming back around tomorrow... he thought laciviously.
"Oh, I see. Is he into researching the occult?" Laney asked, nervously fingering her long, wavy red hair.
"Actually, uh, we both are. Kinda ties in with another area of our lives," he told her. "By the way, I'm Dean Winchester," he said, reaching to shake her hand.
She gave it to him, responding "Laney Remington. This is my shop."
"Remington and Winchester," Dean chuckled. "Coupla pistols, aren't we?"
Laney's blue-grey eyes twinkled back at him as she nodded, smiling brightly. "Except those companies only make rifles and shotguns," she said.
He raised his eyebrows. "You know guns, huh?"
"Yes. I'm descended from the founder of the Remington Arms Company. He was my Great Great Great Great Grandfather," she told him proudly.
He nodded appreciatively and said "Hey, that's pretty cool!" Damn, I could suck all day on her bottom lip he mused, beginning to sweat a little.
Changing the subject, Laney said "Listen, I have a copy of that book you want. I was holding it for someone. I haven't heard from him in a couple weeks, so I'd be happy to let you have it. I can replace it with one from the new order tomorrow."
"You'd do that?" asked Dean. "I'd really appreciate it. I've been trying to get it for a while now, and either no one carries it or it takes 2 weeks to get it."
"Absolutely," she told him. "Let me get it from the back."
Dean smiled that sexy-assed smile again, this time winking at her as well, causing her heart to skip several beats. He watched her go, thinking that he really wanted to get to know her.
As she walked to the back of the store, she wondered if she should feel like a dirty old lady. Although she didn't look her age, here she was, a 43 year old woman fawning over a man who was clearly at least ten years younger than she, if not more. Oh well, she thought to herself, I'm not dead, and what can it hurt to look?, all the while wishing she could touch him, too. Lean, tight muscled six-pack abs she just knew were hiding beneath the loose-fitting tee he was wearing, biceps that would feel strong about her, chiseled pecs that would jump when lightly touched with knowing fingers...oh, she could dream all day if she let herself.
She grabbed the book and headed back to the front. Dean was looking over some other tomes amongst the stacks.
"So Dean," she began. "What did you mean about study of the occult tying in with other areas of your life?"
He turned to look at her, all smouldering gaze and sex appeal.
"You know what? I'll tell you a little about it if you'll have dinner with me tonight," he said. Whoa, WTF, where the hell did that come from? he wondered. He didn't know why, but he found himself wanting to trust this woman. He found her engaging, beautiful, intelligent, graceful, and, of all things for someone so young, mature.
Laney hesitated for a moment. She couldn't believe this gorgeous young stallion was asking her out. Don't get ahead of yourself Laney--it's just a dinner invite. Probably just being nice to the old chick for giving him the book. "Yes, dinner would be nice," she found herself accepting. And some blistering hot, wild monkey sex afterwards!! she thought, blushing a deep crimson in the process.
Placing several books on the counter, Dean said "So, what do I owe you?"
She began to add up his selections, noticing that he had some serious volumes in the mix: World Compendium of Exorcism Rituals; Protection Charms, Spells, Sigils & Amulets; and Warner's Guide to Healing Supernatural Injuries and Maladies.
"Ok, your total comes to $407.26," she told him, expecting that he'd remove a couple books to lower the bill.
But he didn't flinch at the cost. He opened his wallet and started to hand her a MasterCard in the name of Chris Warren, but decided that probably wouldn't do since he'd already told her his real name. Well, that and the fact that he didn't want to steal from her. He knew the credit card company wouldn't pay her charges when they discovered that the card was bogus. What the fuck? he thought. He'd never been compelled to worry about something like this in the past. But he liked her, and couldn't cotton to ripping her off. So he handed her a ten and the four hundreds he'd picked up shooting darts in a local dive the previous night.
"So, how does eight o'clock sound?" Dean asked her.
"That'd be great," she responded, handing back his change. "I live above the shop, so you can pick me up here."
"It's a date," he smiled, winking a beautiful moss green eye at her, causing her to shiver slightly. Then he touched her hand and said "It was very nice to meet you, Laney Remington. I'll see you at eight." And with that, he took his books and left.
Four hours later, Laney waited in the dim security light at the front of the shop. It was quarter past eight, and so far, not one car had been down the street. Typical she thought. It didn't really surprise her that she'd been stood up. It was the story of her life. Men would ask but never show up or even call to explain why they blew her off. The few who had shown over the years were terrible, each date a total disaster. One man, a preacher come to find out, proselytized and barked fire and brimstone at her throughout dinner after finding out that she owned an occult shop. He told her that she'd spend eternity in hell for owning such a place, peddling black magic and evil. She'd called him an arrogant, narrow-minded, pompous dick and stormed out. That was the last date she went on, more than three years past now.
Sighing heavily, she decided to give up and go back to her apartment above the store. Just before she turned to leave, however, she noticed a flash of headlights and heard the deep rumble of an engine. A black car stopped in front of her shop. Her heart beat wildly when she saw Dean get out and head to her door. He was wearing all black--smooth black Doc Martens, black jeans that hugged ALL the right places, a black turtleneck that accentuated the gorgeous pecs she'd imagined, and an old black leather jacket. She got wet just looking at him, and found it very difficult to catch her breath.
He smiled at her through the glass, eyes twinkling, and she smiled shyly back. She quickly unlocked the door and stepped outside. He took the keys and locked up for her.
Dean gazed at her admiringly, taking in her pale creamy skin encased in a pale pink mini dress and matching wrap, her ample breasts peeking over the scoop neck. He noticed that she wore matching sandals that laced up her legs with ribbon. He imagined those legs wrapped tight around him as he buried himself deep within her. Hell! he thought. Let's not get ahead of ourselves... She'd painted her toe- and fingernails a slightly deeper shade of pink for contrast, and wore the same shade on her full pouty lips, lips that he imagined were soft and velvety, submissive and demanding. Damn, girl! he thought, hardening at the vision before him, his lustful thoughts helping him along. "You look beautiful," he told Laney, stepping in and kissing her cheek.
"Thank you," she responded breathlessly, drinking in his scent, comprised of a natural muskiness mixed with Dolce and Gabanna cologne.
"Shall we go?" he asked, holding out his arm to escort her to the car.
She nodded at him, thinking she could completely lose herself in those beautiful green eyes. Get a grip, Laney! she told herself. He is in no way interested in you like that. She could hope, though. Even if that hope came to naught, at least she'd have a nice evening listening to the sound of his sexy voice, which was like liquid dark chocolate laced with rum, and staring into his smouldering green eyes, smelling his scent, lusting after his heavenly body. If that was all she could have, she'd take it. It would make for a nice memory on her death bed.
"Oh wow, Dean!" she exclaimed when she really looked at his car. "A 1967 Impala--oh, it's beautiful! My uncle had one when I was a girl. I always loved that car! He let me drive it on some special occasions during my senior year in high school," she told him.
"This is my baby," Dean smiled, opening the door for her and helping her inside.
When Dean got in, he said "I don't live in Seattle, so I'm not familiar with much here. Where do you recommend we go for dinner?"
"Hmmm," mused Laney thoughtfully. "What do you like? I'm up for anything, Italian, Mexican, seafood? Any of those sound appealing?" she asked.
"Well, I was hoping for a place that wasn't bright and noisy, that way we can talk," he said. TALK? What has gotten into you Dean? he admonished himself. He was used to "wham, bam, thank you ma'am", then hitting the road. This girl, this WOMAN, had him under some kind of spell. "Christo," he whispered toward her. Nothing happened.
"The best place for conversation would be Antonio's Casa Venezia. They have wonderful food as well, and the atmosphere is very relaxed."
"Sounds perfect sweetheart, tell me how to get there."
TBC