Author's Note: In working on another story, Feet of Clay, I created a character named Sophia. She's a legacy hunter, like the boys, and she meets the Winchesters during the course of a case. Dean and Sophia just clicked for me and I've written them a whole bunch of scenes that may or may not make it into other stories. Call it a teaser for what they might get up to later in Feet of Clay... Also, none of what I write here would have made it to paper without the inspiration and support of MaliBear'sBuddy. Thanks sweetie!

Charleston

Sophia's cell phone rings beside her. Glancing at the caller id, a slow smile spreads across her face. "Hey, handsome," she answers, her voice playful.

"Babe, where the hell are you?" Dean's rough voice demands.

She chuckles softly. "Just passing Savannah. Why?"

He growls. "I'll meet you in Charleston."

"Charleston? What for?" She sighs heavily. "We don't have another job do we?"

"No job, just you," he murmurs. "I'll send you the address."

Her stomach flips as the phone goes dead. Dean's not much for talking about his feelings, too chick flick, he says, but moments like this tell her everything she wants to know. His voice was practically vibrating with it. He needs her, wants her, misses her.

Her eyes flash and she coaxes a little more speed from the Mustang.

~~~SPN~~~

She pulls into the parking lot of the hotel. And yes, it's actually a hotel this time. She'd been surprised when the phone had vibrated with a text pointing to this location; this was much nicer than their usual accommodations. She approaches the room number he'd sent her, slightly apprehensive, her stomach dancing. She's only been gone for two days, but it feels more like two months since she's seen him. She knocks twice and the door flies open almost immediately.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, eyes drinking in the other. He looks even more devastatingly handsome than usual somehow. Maybe just because she's missed him so much. She takes in his dark grey t-shirt, fitting in all the right places, ratty blue jeans, and bare feet. He's got a day's worth of stubble and it only adds to the sexy image he presents.

Then without warning, she's in his arms and the door is slamming shut behind her. His lips are on hers - hot and demanding - and her body wraps around his like a second skin. She feels his hands slide up and down her back before tangling in her hair and a tiny moan escapes. Eventually he breaks the kiss to press open mouth kisses along her jaw to her ear.

"No more splitting up to cover more jobs," he whispers in her ear, voice husky and vibrating with equal parts emotion and passion.

She purrs, pressing closer to him. "Did you miss me?" she teases, her own voice low and smoky with desire.

His answer is a rough growl as he backs toward the bed, pulling her with him. "Missed you, worried about you, thought about you every fucking minute of every fucking hour," he murmurs, taking the hem of her tank top and pulling it up and off, before hauling her back against his chest, hands exploring the newly bared skin.

"You did?" she asks quietly, leaning back to look at him. His desire darkened eyes meet hers and he nods once before he unhooks her bra, tossing it to the floor. He sits on the edge of the bed, pulling her between his legs, placing hot, damp kisses across her breasts and stomach.

As he reaches for the snap on her cutoffs, she leans down to press a kiss on the top of his head as she strokes the back of his neck. "I missed you, too," she breathes. "It's like a piece of me is missing when you're not there."

He stops tormenting her with kisses to rest his head against her belly, wrapping his arms around her waist before releasing a long, shuddering sigh. "Exactly," he agrees, giving her a squeeze, "and I don't like it. It feels...wrong." After simply holding her for a brief moment, he goes back to unzipping her cut-offs, his mouth following the line of her panties as he drags the shorts down.

Her legs feel wobbly beneath her as she steps out of them, the heat of his mouth sending waves of fire all over her body. His warm hands follow up and down the backs of her thighs and over her bottom, drawing her ever closer. Unable to take any more torment from that amazing mouth, she kneels between his knees, tugging at his t-shirt. "Why are you still wearing all these clothes?" she teases, leaning in to kiss him before removing the shirt and pushing him back on the bed.

They both hiss at the skin to skin contact as she slides over him. His hands are tangling in her hair again as he drags her mouth back to his, tongue clashing with hers, his jean-clad leg sliding over hers, holding her in place as he explores her mouth. Both are breathing heavily when Sophia breaks the kiss to slide down over his muscular chest, dragging her tongue over his salty skin. She shivers when she hears his groan as her tongue flicks over his pebbled nipple.

She only gets as far as his flat stomach before he grabs her arms, pulling her up and flipping her underneath him. "I was just getting to the good part," she complains with a wicked grin.

He smirks. "You'll get the good part soon enough, babe," he murmurs, rocking against her, catching her soft moan with his mouth. He rests his forehead on hers, eyes meeting. Sliding his hand down her side, he finds her thigh, pulling it up over his hip, the roughness of the jeans against her soft inner thigh making her gasp, arching against him. "I need you with me," he murmurs, caressing her thigh, her hip, her bottom.

She bites her lip, reaching up to brush his check. She nods, shifting restlessly beneath him.

"And I want you," he rasps, lust and heat and passion dripping from his voice. "I want you so much I can't breathe, can't think about anything but being inside you, feeling you surround me, feeling you shudder under me..." He turns his head, kissing her palm, the inside of her wrist. She sucks in a breath, completely lost in how he makes her feel. He's still half clothed and she already feels like she's about to implode.

He moves to kiss her throat, tongue flicking against the pulse beating wildly there. His hands move up, skimming her waist, the sides of her breasts, before taking her wrists and pinning them over her head. "What do you want, Sophia?" he asks, scraping her earlobe with his teeth.

She moans, squirming against him, running her foot over his calf. "Dean..." she gasps, "please..."

"Please what?" he teases, his hot breath skimming her over ear. His chuckle turns to a sharp inhale when he feels her teeth on his shoulder. "Easy, baby," he mutters, leaning more heavily into her, kissing her jaw. "Tell me what you want, Sophia..."

She struggles to put together a coherent thought, but all she can manage is a soft, breathless, "You, Dean, always you, only you. All of you...everywhere...please..."

She whimpers when he pulls away, reaching for him. He chuckles darkly. "I'll be right back, babe."

She watches with half-lidded eyes as he strips down and slides on protection, admiring his hard body, wanting it back on hers, pressing into her, making that connection that's theirs, and theirs alone. It's only a few seconds until he's back over her and she's pulling him into her, but it feels like an eternity.

They both groan in satisfaction at the union, stilling for a moment to savor the sensations. Sophia wraps a leg around his hip, pulling him deeper, sighing his name. "Yes," she breathes, catching his gaze and holding it for a moment before her eyes drift shut as he starts to move.

He rocks against her, steady and unrelenting, slowly spinning them up. His mouth is everywhere, kissing her face, her jaw, her throat. His fingers tangle with hers as he pins one hand by her head. Sophia hears his voice, rough with passion, whispering her name, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of her world.

With a harsh cry, she goes spiraling over the top, one hand clutching at the sheets, the other squeezing his fingers so tightly her knuckles whiten. Seconds later, he groans her name before collapsing on top of her.

Sophia strokes his hair softly, enjoying his comforting weight and warmth. Her ragged breathing gradually slows. "Maybe I should go away more often if that's the kind of welcome home I get," she murmurs, satisfaction tinging her voice.

The observation earns her a fierce growl as Dean rolls to his side, pulling her with him, unable to relinquish the smallest bit of contact with her. "Not a chance, sweetheart," he rumbles, kissing her temple. "I don't intend to let you out of my sight again any time soon." He snickers. "In fact, I don't intend to let you out of this bed anytime soon."

Sophia giggles and snuggles closer, not any more inclined than he to separate. "Good thing I like Charleston..."