Disclaimer: I don't own either Winchester boy...but I wouldn't mind renting them for a few days. Hehehehe
Author's Note: For my wonderful, dear, best friend, Miya, who wanted both the Winchester boys (and wouldn't mind a piece of Daddy W, too! Takes place sometime mid season 3.)
Miya, We've been friends for seven years and it has been some of the best times of my life, talking with you. You're my soul's twin. And though we have differing opinions on some things in life, we never let it get in the way of our friendship. As different as we are, we are still so similar. I love you, my kitty. Love, Mischief
Sam/OFC, Dean/OFC
Warnings: SMUT (Duh. That's how I roll) light bondage if you squint, spanking.
She heard the rumble of the engine coming down the street and smiled. 10:59 AM. They were early. No doubt Sam's doing. She brushed a strand of blue hair out of her face and checked her appearance in the hall mirror. At thirty, she knew she was a bit older than Dean, and a few years older than Sam, but she still appreciated her look. Dressed in the long broom skirt, corset hiding underneath a peasant blouse, and the crocheted shawl, she knew she was unlike anything they'd come up on so far in their hunts, but that was okay. She was confident in herself...and her wiles.
The tapping on the door knocked her out of her reverie and she hurried to greet her guests, shoving the dog out of the way with her foot. He was a nosy little brat, but he kept her company. The old house she lived in was lonely since her parent's death.
She opened the door and smiled. "Hello, fellas. How can I help you?"
Dean blinked and Sam offered a half smile. She was sure at Stanford, he'd seen people with different styles, even if he didn't hang out with them. Dean, however, she felt sure, wasn't quite sure what to do with her. She'd show him what he could do with her. Even the sex god could learn a thing or two…
Dean shook his head slightly and held out a badge. "FBI. We wanted to ask you…"
"About the werewolf attacks?"
Now it was Sam's turn to look surprised. "You, uh...excuse me?"
She smiled. "I didn't think I'd ever see a Winchester again. Come on in. I've got tea on, but there are beers in the fridge."
The men exchanged a look and she held up a hand. "Before you ask, no, I'm not psychic, I'm intuitive. I know you are Winchesters because your father saved me while he was on a hunt a few years back. And too, I have friends in low places."
Dean's eyebrow shot up. "That so? Well, you wanna tell us who the werewolf is? Save us some trouble?"
She laughed throatily. "And take all the fun out of your hunt? I wouldn't dream of it. Come in."
They followed her warily. She could sense their apprehension, so she added, "I promise, I'm normal, well, relatively, in any case. John saved me from a violent spirit. But I've teetered on the edge of the supernatural for years. I knew things I shouldn't, felt things…" she shook her head as she moved to the teapot. "Help yourselves. As I said, beer is in the fridge."
Dean didn't hesitate opening the old Frigidaire and grabbing a beer. Sam shot him a look and Dean shrugged. "What? Sounds on the up-and-up to me, and I'm parched. It was a long ass ride to get here."
She giggled. Oh, he was just as funny as she thought he would be. "I guess I should introduce myself. Miya Westridge."
"Westridge?" Sam inquired. "You were…"
She nodded. "Yeah. That's the ghost your dad saved me from."
Sam winced. "I'm sorry for your loss."
Dean inclined his head. "Dad told me about that case."
She shrugged. She had long since come to terms with her violent boyfriend's ghost. John had put it to bed, so to speak, a long time ago. She just wished the eldest Winchester had come to town before Michael had killed as many people as he had. Including her favorite barista. She still hadn't found anyone that made an espresso like Giovanni. "Life sucks. We deal with it."
Dean dropped into a kitchen chair, loosened his tie, and looked at her. "So, what's the deal? You knew we were coming?"
She nodded. "When the murders started happening, I wondered if it was another ghost. I used my contacts in the spirit world…"
"You worked a Ouija board," Dean spat.
"Don't judge me when you don't even know me," she chastised gently. "You come back to me after you've had your ex-boyfriend's spirit kill everyone you love because he couldn't handle a fucking breakup, then we'll talk!"
Dean grimaced and offered a soft, "Sorry."
She rolled her eyes, shook her head, and blew out a breath. "Water under the bridge. Anyway, when I heard from one of the spirits I commune with, she told me it was a creature. I dove into a bit more...let's say 'magic' to figure out what it was. I was hoping you two would pick up the case, though I've heard Bobby Singer is quite well versed in hunting, as well as a few others…"
Dean nodded. "Bobby's one of the best. He's like a father to us now that Dad…" he clammed up and she couldn't help it as she walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry for your loss," she cooed. "I know how much it hurts to lose a family member. It seems to hurt worse when it is to something supernatural, doesn't it?"
"You know about Dad?" Sam questioned.
She bit her lip and nodded. "I cried for days when I found out. I...cared for him. He was a decent guy. Loved you boys, let me tell you. I got him a little drunk and he started telling stories about when you were younger…" She smiled. "He was a decent man. A hard man, yes, but decent."
"He was the greatest man we ever knew," Dean interjected.
She wasn't sure she would go that far, but she nodded again. "He died doing what meant the most to him...hunting a monster that was hurting someone he loved."
"He made a deal," Dean stated flatly.
She put a hand to his face. "And I am certain he didn't regret it. Do you?"
"Never," he whispered.
She wouldn't chance a glance at Sam. She knew he was still hurting over the fact Dean sold his soul for him. But that was what you would do for someone you loved. She didn't love anyone that much, well, not since her parents died. It must be nice to be on both ends of it, to know you are loved that much, and also, to love that purely.
She cleared her throat and walked away, coming back with a handful of newspaper clippings. "I gathered some information for you two." She sat it in front of Sam, who immediately dove into it with one hand, as the other, she noticed, was petting Thor's head. The Springer Spaniel was loving every minute of the attention from the new person. "I may not know who the werewolf is," she continued, "but I have a feeling I know where he will strike next."
Sam moved the papers around, looking intently at a few. "Sure you don't want to become a hunter? You've got the skills."
At that, she snorted. "I can shoot fine, my father saw to that. But the rest? No thank you. I'm perfectly content with my job at the library, my work with the animal shelter, my crocheting and my loom. No offense, but I'd rather not risk my neck."
"You don't look like any librarian I've ever seen," Dean commented.
She shot him a look. "Out of that whole thing, all you took away from it was the fact I am a librarian and I don't look the part? I'm offended," she teased.
"No! I don't...you're hot, okay? Kinda weird with the clothes and the hair, but I can get behind the hippie vibe. I just…"
Her eyebrow rose. "Librarian fetish? I'm surprised. I figured that would be Sam."
Sam snorted, but remained quiet. Oh, how she'd love to wipe that smug little smirk off his face. But one brother at a time…The corner of her mouth lifted. "I have glasses, too, Dean. I'd be glad to play naughty librarian with you...after the case is finished."
He cleared his throat. "That, ah, okay."
She chuckled. "Not used to women being this direct?"
He grabbed her then and squeezed her ass. "Not in their own house while my brother is sitting there pouring through information about a bunch of werewolf related murders."
She licked her lips. "Well, maybe if Sammy is a good boy, I'll take him for a spin, too. I'm not picky. I wouldn't mind going three for three with the Winchester boys." She turned then and sashayed out of the room.
As she walked out, she heard, "Three for three? Does that mean she and Dad…?" Her smile grew.
She invited them to stay at her house. She had plenty of room and they could spread out their research. As the morning turned into afternoon, she fixed them all a quick meal of some leftover stew. She had known she needed to fix a big pot, even days ago. They eagerly tore into the leftovers along with some bread she had made that morning, and for dessert, she had made a sweet potato pie, her sweet, southern grandmother's recipe using some of the fresh sweet potatoes she had grown in her garden.
But as the evening wore on, she could see Dean's eyes start to lose focus. She felt sure he had driven the whole way from wherever their last case had been, so she told him to go watch some TV and rest while she helped Sam try to figure out who the wolf was.
She usually kept her head down and heard a lot of gossip in her small town. She knew things about people. High school kids talked a lot and she overheard her fair share. Not to mention the married ladies in the book club. Her brain was a fountain of information they just had to tap into.
They worked through the night gathering the information they needed, (including a side trip to the clerk of court's office Dean had to break into to find the records they needed), and just as the sun was rising, they had a lead on their wolf.
She yawned and stretched. "I've got a damn crick in my neck."
"Want me to massage it out for you?" Sam asked innocently.
She smiled. "That would be great. Could, ah, could we take it to the bedroom though? If I can lay down, I can relax a bit. I think we need a few hours of sleep before you go back out, don't you?"
He nodded. "Absolutely."
They both stood and she led him down the hall. A glance in the living room showed Dean passed out on the couch. Good. He needed more rest than what he'd gotten before he had to run do some breaking and entering. She led Sam into her room and shut the door, flipping the lock quietly.
He was looking around her room. This was her inner sanctum much more than the rest of the house. She had her grandmother's quilt on her bed, and books were stacked by the bedside. She also had a few of her toys laid out on the nightstand. Those, she wouldn't apologize for. While he looked, she slipped her shirt over her head and walked in front of him.
His eyes grew wide. She knew she had a more than ample bosom and it was pushed up gloriously by the corset. "Where do you want me?" she breathed.
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I...uh…"
She smiled and reached for his hand. "Sam, look, I meant what I said. I want to have sex with you. And your brother. Not at the same time, though, I wouldn't have a problem with it, but I digress. So if this makes you uncomfortable…"
"And Dad? Were you with him, too?"
She nodded. "I'm a sexual creature, Sam. I won't apologize for it. If this makes you uncomfortable, we can walk right back out of that door and call it a day. But if you want some nice, hard fucking? Let's go for it."
He made a sound in the back of his throat and she could see this was warring with his sense of propriety. She smirked. "Going once. Going twice…"
She was shoved onto the bed and let out a little squeal of excitement as his mouth moved to her chest. She grabbed his hair and pulled. "Fuck. Sam. Yes."
He pulled away and stood. He gave her a hint of a grin. "I saw how you looked at me. And I just want you to know, I'm not some innocent little virgin you can destroy."
Her smirk made a reappearance. "Is that so? Well then, show me what you've got."
He grasped her hands and pulled her back to a standing position. Her brows quirked in confusion only a moment before he sank to his knees and disappeared under her skirt. She felt his hands at her hips and then her underwear were down and off before his mouth fused with her core.
"Fuck!" she cried as his tongue thrust into her. His hands were massaging the globes of her ass and she was powerless. She couldn't grab him, couldn't do anything as he took her almost to the precipice before he backed off and slowly lapped at her, driving her crazy. "Sam…" she warned. That was when his teeth grabbed her clit and two fingers thrust into her, curling just so.
She felt her knees go weak as the orgasm ripped through her and she was panting when he finally pulled away, wiping his mouth with a smirk that rivaled his brother's.
"Was that good?" he inquired as he stood and pulled his shirt over his head.
She just nodded dumbly as he gently pushed her onto the bed. "Stay dressed," he commanded.
She sucked in a breath. No, this was no shy boy in the bedroom. He knew exactly what he was doing. She thanked the gods as he started unfastening his jeans and she watched him toe off his shoes and socks before he was gloriously naked before her.
He was slim, yes, built like a swimmer. Long and lean, with broad shoulders that hadn't quite filled out, a torso that just begged to be licked, long, long, long legs and then his cock. She licked her lips as she saw him give a little twitch in her direction. She managed to somehow pull her eyes back up to his and he chuckled. "You look like you want to eat me."
She was up on her knees like a shot, bending over the edge of the bed to take him in her mouth.
His huge hand massaged her scalp gently as she deep-throated him. He pulled away and she pouted, but only for a moment before he said, "On your back. Let me play with you while you suck me," and she almost came again.
She turned onto her back and looked back up at him. He reached for her corset and undid first one, then two, then three of the hooks, releasing her breasts. He moaned. "Beautiful," he muttered. He experimentally pinched first one, then the other nipple, and her deep groan seemed to be what he was looking for, because he smiled. "Oh yes. You like that, don't you?"
She swallowed. "What, uh, what all did you do in college, Sam?" She smirked and reached out to lick his shaft. "Did you experiment?"
He smiled. "More than you'd think," he responded, and the confession went straight to her clit.
His hands fisted her breasts as his cock parted her lips. She eagerly sucked him as he fucked her mouth and she felt his hands all over her body. She felt him change his angle to brace himself with one hand on the bed as the other moved her skirt up, up, up her thighs until two fingers were once more thrust into her. She cried out around his cock as he worked her, adding another finger, moving just so until he hit her g-spot.
She saw stars as she continued to work him with her mouth and tongue until he pulled away. "I need in you," he told her and she was only too happy to oblige as she turned once more so her head was on the pillows.
He glanced at her nightstand where she had sat out a few condoms. His eyebrow shot up and she shrugged. "I told you I was intuitive."
He chuckled under his breath and grabbed one, ripping it open before sliding it down his cock.
She licked her lips. She'd had him in her mouth, but she just couldn't wait for him to fuck her senseless.
He came back to her and slid between her legs. "Are you ready?"
"God, yes," she moaned. He thrust and she felt her eyes roll back in her head. Bliss.
She woke an hour later, feeling more refreshed than she had in months. She slipped out of bed, showered quickly, and went to find Dean.
To her surprise, he was cooking breakfast. He smiled. "I hope you don't mind. I just figured you and Sam would be hungry. You sounded like you worked up quite an appetite." He didn't sound jealous, surprisingly, and she was once more impressed. The man would give up anything for his little brother, even a woman, wouldn't he?
She tapped his ass gently and stood on bare-footed tiptoe to whisper in his ear, "Trust me. I meant what I said. There's enough of me to go around."
His eyes widened. "I don't think..."
She smiled. She liked putting the usually over-confident ladies man off balance. "We'll see," she purred as she reached for the coffee pot and her favorite Hello Kitty mug.
He blinked and smiled. "You're nothing but trouble, are you?"
She winked. "You know it." She helped him plate the food, and by then, Sam was walking out if her bedroom. He blushed slightly but cleared his throat and sat. "Miya and I found the werewolf."
Dean's grin was wicked as he stated, "Pretty damn sure that wasn't the only thing you found this morning."
Sam started to open his mouth in response, but Dean just held up a hand. "Say no more. It's cool."
The two brothers shared a look, a nod, and Miya smiled once more into her coffee.
She bit her lip nervously. They'd been gone most of the afternoon and evening. She knew it wasn't her place to worry, but still, she couldn't help but worry about them. From what she could find, this werewolf wasn't one to fuck around with. A violent man as a mortal, Johnny Carpenter could only be worse as a wolf. He'd beaten his wife almost to death and threatened to kill her ailing mother if she told. Miya wished she had gotten wind of his wicked ways before he'd become a wolf. She would have handled it herself. She didn't like wife beaters or douchebags in general. She was sure she could have given him his just desserts. There was a reason Loki was her favorite god. HIs brand of mischief tended to be right up her alley.
The rumble of the Impala coming down the road relaxed her a fraction before she felt it...someone was hurt. One of the boys was hurt. Her mind quickly went from worst case scenario to best and she mentally listed a few of the herbs and linaments she might need.
Their heavy footfalls could be heard on the porch and she dashed to the door to throw it open. "Sam!" she cried.
"He's okay, just got clawed. No bites," Dean managed as he helped his brother into the room. Sam looked pale and as close to unconscious as he could get while still on his feet. "Can I…?"
She nodded. "Come. To the guest room. Lay him down on the bed." She led the way and pushed the quilt from the bed so Sam could lie down on the sheets. Dean helped him lay down and when he pulled away, Miya gasped. Sam's shirt was torn into ribbons. Deep gouges marked his chest and stomach.
"I can stitch him up," Dean stated. "Just let me…"
Miya shook her head. "No, I can do it."
"You know how to stitch up a wound?" he asked, surprised.
She put a hand on Sam's clammy forehead. Now that he was lying down, it seemed he'd finally passed out. "No. But I can do one better." She looked up at him and their eyes met. Dean's brows furrowed. "Do you trust me?" she questioned.
"Lady, I don't even know you."
Her eyes narrowed. "I can help him, but it's...unconventional, for you, in any case." She stood and walked to the dresser.
His jaw ticked. "What?"
She didn't answer save for grabbing a few bottles she kept in the room. This was where she did most of her healing, if she needed to. When she finally had what she needed, she turned back to him and stated, "I'm a witch."
"What?!"
She held up a hand. "I don't hurt anyone. Usually. But I'm a witch. It runs from my father's side, all the way back to before my ancestors boarded the boat for America. I don't work from demons, we've got real powers. Mine is in healing. I can fix him up, good as new, but I need to you to let me work."
"You can save him?"
She nodded.
"And we won't be indebted to a demon? I thought magic wasn't free."
She smiled. "It's free if I chose to give it. And I do." She bent and ran a hand down Sam's face. He was starting to get a fever already. That was never good. "To someone you've…" she cleared her throat. "Well, I suppose there was a reason it was Sam I was with last night. I can fix him up, not to worry."
He eyed her speculatively for a moment and she sighed. "I help him, he gets better. I don't help him? He'll eventually mend, but it will be tough. I can just stitch up his wounds, you can go steal some antibiotics and painkillers, be on your way, that's fine. But I know you well enough to realize, you would do anything for him. Have done anything for him. So? What's it going to be."
His jaw ticked once more. He blew a breath out of his nose. He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. "Fix him. But if you hurt him...well, let's just say you wouldn't be the first damn witch I ganked."
Her mouth pursed but she remained silent as she nodded and began her work.
It was another long night. She was going on an hour's worth of sleep and the spellwork always took it out of her, but finally, as night hit its darkest, she blew out a breath and stepped away from Sam's sleeping form. "There. He'll be better now. He just needs to sleep it off."
"Good," Dean bit out. It was the first word he'd spoken since he threatened her life. She watched him turn and storm out of the room.
"Oh no he doesn't," she muttered as she followed him. She heard the screen door slam and knew he'd gone out to his car.
She followed and stomped down the steps after him. He was digging through the trunk of the car. "Looking for a knife? A machete? A gun? Planning on killing me now that I've helped you?!"
"I'm thinking about it!" he yelled. He turned and pointed the etched chrome gun at her.
She crossed her arms in anger as she relaxed back ever so slightly. "Please. You're not going to kill me."
"Give me one good reason."
"Besides the fact I just saved Sam's life?"
They stood there a few moments, facing off before he eased his stance and tossed the gun back into the trunk. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey and downed a generous swallow before he tossed it to her.
She caught it and drank a sip, wincing at the burn. She sighed. "What do you want, Dean?"
"I don't…" he shook his head. "I don't know."
She screwed the cap back on the bottle and carried it over to him. He slammed the trunk shut and propped up against the side of the car. He took the bottle and drank again before he looked at her. "You don't look like a witch."
Her eyebrow rose as she leaned against the car as well. "Clearly you need to check your intuition, because it sucks."
He let out a belly laugh. "Yeah, guess you're right." He handed her the bottle back and she took it, drank from it, and passed it back.
She was more than a little tired now, but she knew she couldn't go to sleep yet. She was tired, yes, but she was also keyed up from their argument, and though the magic wore on her, it always sent a charge running through her. One she usually satiated with sex. She licked her lips as she looked over at him.
He was drinking again, and it was the first time in history she had ever been jealous of a bottle. The way his pillowy lips caressed the glass, the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, the tight grip his large hand had on the bottle…
She blinked and licked her lips once more. "What do you want?" she repeated softly into the night.
"You," he answered finally.
"All you have to do is ask."
"You and Sam…"
"...had a dalliance," she replied. "No more, no less." She walked in front of him and took the bottle from his hands, dropping it gently to the ground. "My brand of magic works better if I have a...physical connection to someone. I could perform magic for you, yes, but if we had touched, held hands, shared a moment of intimacy, it works better."
"Like a crossroads deal? You kiss a demon, you get your wish?"
She shook her head. "No. Not exactly, although, I suppose if you wanted to over simplify it, then yes, but that isn't what I do. I'm not asking for anything in return. I'm a familial witch. My gift runs through my veins. And while I could ask for payment, I don't, or at least, I didn't from you. I freely gave my gift to Sam, not because we had sex, but because I care about your cause. I may not go out and hunt monsters like you do, but I care. And that makes a difference."
"And this?" he asked, moving his hand back and forth between them. "Us?"
She shrugged and gave him a soft smirk. "Another dalliance."
"You know it's weird, you being with all three of us."
She shrugged again. "Like I told Sam, I'm a sexual creature, Dean. Don't hate me for that. If you don't want me, all you have to do is say 'no' and I'll step off."
"I didn't say that," he countered.
She looked down a moment before she got to her knees before him. She wished they were somewhere other than her gravel driveway, but then, the stones biting into her knees through the thin fabric of her skirt gave her a jolt of excitement as well.
She looked up at him from under her lashes as her hands touched him over his jeans. "Do you want me?" she whispered. "Do you want this?"
He took in a deep breath and nodded mutely.
That was all the encouragement she needed as she quickly unfastened his jeans and went to work.
His hands rubbed her hair gently, tangling ever so slightly in her short curls. She gave him a tentative lick before she all but swallowed him whole.
His flavor was different than Sam's, but still just as delicious. His cock was built like him, thick, and though it was not quite as long as Sam's, he made up for it in girth. She couldn't wait for him to fuck her with it.
She took her time sucking him almost to the edge before she backed off and took him back up. She was more than willing to swallow him but he pushed her off of him with a growl. He hauled her to her feet and in a move that surprised and thrilled her, bent her over the hood of the car.
She gasped out a breath as his hands went to hers, pulling them up over her head to rest on the cool hood. "Keep those there," he ordered and she felt another tingle lance its way through her. She swallowed hard as she felt his hands move to lift her skirt and she heard a ri-i-i-i-p as her panties were torn off of her. Suddenly his breath was against her ear as he stated, "Hope you don't mind. I like to keep souvenirs," and she almost came from the thought.
He stepped away from her and she felt the cool air on her ass. She briefly wondered what she looked like, bent over, ass out on display, against the gorgeous car and she smiled a little. She had wanted to have sex in the car, but she supposed on it would work just as well.
She jumped as his broad hand slapped her rear. "What the hell?" she couldn't help but to ask. She glanced over her shoulder at him and he was smirking.
"You seem like the kind of person that likes a spanking."
Her mouth fell open. "Really? I didn't expect that from you, Dean. I thought you'd be...gentler."
He was back on her in an instant, his hands roaming as he whispered in her ear, "But you don't want gentle tonight, do you, Miya? You want me to fuck you against my car, don't you? Want me to do all sorts of nasty things to you, don't you?"
"Yes," she panted.
He moved away again and growled, "Don't move. You move, I jack off while you watch. And you get nothing."
She contemplated moving, just to watch him. She bet he was glorious as he fucked himself, but greed won out. She needed him in her. Now. So she remained still.
She felt the heat of him move closer and this time, she was prepared as he slapped her ass. "Are you a bad girl?"
"Yes!" she cried.
Smack. "You lied to me."
"I'm sorry."
Smack. "No, you're not."
"No, I'm not," she responded. She wouldn't be sorry for any of this. Even when she was a hundred, she would relive this night in her mind.
Once more, his hand struck her ass, but then it stayed and began massaging. She moaned at the sensation as she felt his other hand reach between her legs to fondle her clit. "What do you like?" he asked her.
"Anything," she cried. "Everything. Just...please!"
His hand moved a bit quicker as he took her almost to the edge...and stopped.
She let out a growl of frustration as he pulled away. It seemed as though he was gone forever before he slapped her ass one more time, and slid into her only a moment later.
"Fuck!" she cried out as she clenched around him, her orgasm rocketing through her. She had never felt so alive. The cool September air rushing around them, the feel of the cold metal, warming to her touch against her cheek, the feel of his huge hands everywhere on her, pinching, grabbing, squeezing, massaging, his legs against hers as he thrust over and over again…
He reached and grabbed her hands, forcing them behind her back and again, she felt that thrill run through her as he tugged, lifting her slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts and she cried out as she came again.
He left her hands behind her as his own hands traveled to the front of her body to fondle her breasts. He tugged and they both spilled out of the top of her corset. "Look at you," he panted as he thrust. "You're wrecked for me. You need this, don't you? Need my cock in you, don't you?"
"Yes!" she screamed. "Fuck me!"
He pulled out and turned her so she was facing him. His mouth dove to her chest, biting, nipping, sucking, as he reached for her ass to sit her on the hood before he plunged back into her.
She grabbed his neck, his shoulders, anywhere she could find purchase as he continued the torturous assault on her breasts. He wrapped her legs around his waist as he bent her back as far as he dared, and she sensed what he needed as she put her arms down so she could rest on her elbows. She had never had her tits worshiped in quite such a way as he sat inside her, waiting, twitching every now and again, driving her mad with want and need. She needed him to move. Needed...more.
She whined and he pulled his head up to smirk at her. "Don't worry. I'm not done. I just needed to give these gorgeous titties some love and attention."
"Fine. Smother yourself in them later, after you get me off again," she growled.
He laughed and pulled her mouth to his for a gentle kiss. It was the first time their lips had touched.
She sighed as they caressed her own. She had wondered if they would be as soft as she dreamed, and they were. Like two pillows massaging her gently, she felt, in this moment, cherished. His hand on her chin, his lips on hers, being connected to him not only by lips, but by sex, she felt tears prick her eyes.
He pulled away and smiled as his hands dove to her hips, pulling her toward him as he once more began thrusting.
She gasped out a breath at the change of pace and held onto his forearms as he pounded into her. She knew he had to be close and she felt her own orgasm approaching as his fingers once more moved to toy with her clit. He pinched, rolled, and rubbed until… "Holy fucking shit!" she cried as she came. He followed only moments behind her.
She fell back against the hood, sated and spent. "My gods…" she murmured. His head had traveled to her breasts and she felt his hot breath on her skin as he tried to regulate his breathing.
She chuckled lightly as she ran a hand through his short hair. "Thank you," she told him.
He lifted his head and smiled almost bashfully at her. "Uh...you're welcome."
She giggled and he straightened, pulled away, and removed the condom she hadn't even thought to ask him about. He reached into the car and pulled out a few napkins from a fast-food joint. He balled the condom in one and handed her a few. "Here?" he offered.
She giggled again. "Thanks, but I think I'll take a shower, call it a night. The other guest bedroom is made up for you."
"Don't want me sleeping with you?" he asked, and he almost sounded hurt.
She reached up and took his face in her hand. "I didn't want it to be weird. I'd love for you to sleep with me, Dean."
He smiled softly. "That shower big enough for the two of us?"
She gave him a wicked grin. "Let's go find out."
She woke before he did the next morning, and she dressed quickly before she went to go check on her patient. Sam was perfectly healed and appeared to just be sleeping, so she left to put on some coffee. Dean was waiting for her with her favorite cup already filled with the nectar of the gods.
She took a sip and hummed in appreciation as it flowed down into her belly. "That's the ticket. Thank you."
He winked and set to making breakfast. As with the morning before, they were plating the food and just sitting down when Sam walked out. "Do I want to know how I'm better already?"
She smiled over the rim of her cup. "I'm just that good," she told him.
The soft June winds blew her hair into her face as she stared out over the ocean. The move to Maine hadn't been planned, but it had been good for her. She had needed this change of pace, and Dean's stack of credit cards he'd left had certainly helped her realize her dream to move out of the town so many bad things had happened to her in.
She hadn't heard from Sam or Dean again. Hadn't planned on it. It had been years since she'd seen either of them. Oh, she had scryed and checked in on them a few times, not liking what she had seen, but she couldn't interfer. That wasn't part of the plan. No, she couldn't help them in any way. It was a shame, she wished she could. But she had made a promise. And that promise was walking up to her now.
"Mama? Can Jackson spend the night with us after my birthday party tomorrow?"
She smiled at her son. Today was his sixth birthday. With light brown hair and green eyes, she would never be exactly sure which of the brothers was his father, but it didn't really matter. She had a gift to care for, to nurture into the next generation of hunters. And that was what she was planning on doing. "Sure, Henry. Go ahead and ask his mom. I'm sure she'll be fine with it."
"Okay! Thanks!" he gushed as he wrapped his arms around her. She hugged him for all she was worth and then watched him run off to his friend on the playground with a smile. No, she would never regret her time with the Winchester boys. Besides, a deal was a deal.