You glanced up at the source of the voice only to stare into bright, green eyes.
"Dean?" You exclaimed in shock, and stood up out of your chair. Facing him you stare into his emerald eyes. After a moment you realized where you were, and turned to address the client and your boss, "I'm sorry, could you just excuse me one moment." You smiled at the client, who nodded as your boss looked on confused.
You pulled Dean aside to the bar in the upscale, Manhattan restaurant. "What are you doing?" You asked incredulously.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm not stalking you. I'm here with an old friend of mine…"
"Well, I'm here with a client," you interrupted, "One I need to get back to."
Dean laughed and glanced down at his hands, you noticed how full his eyelashes were, and suddenly couldn't take you eyes off him, "Yeah, of course, you should get back to the meeting."
You turned to walk away muttering something like,"See you around". But Dean grabbed your arm, "Hey one thing though, maybe…. maybe we should meet up later, you know, gets some drinks…"
"I don't think so…" You started.
"Just one drink, with me, tonight," he pleaded.
You sighed, Dean was the kind of guy you stayed away from, but there was something about him… something you couldn't ignore.
"Alright," you huffed, and grabbed a napkin from the bar, and asked a passing waiter for a pen. You scribbled down your number, and slid it over to Dean, who was grinning proudly.
"I have to go now." You said starting to turn away from him.
"Yeah, see you soon, Y/N." He said after you glancing down at your phone number.
The entire meeting was a sham. You could feel Dean's gaze as you talked strategy with the client. At one point you made the mistake of glancing over at him which caused you to become flushed at his sly wink.
The meeting ended and you rushed out of the restaurant, not wanting to attract the unnerving attention of Dean. Your meetings were done for the day, and you went back to you hotel room to settle in and watch some Real Housewives of some city. After pulling yourself out of you TV induced coma you ordered some take out. Halfway through your meal your phone sounded off. Some unknown number, but you answered it anyways.
"Hello?" You asked suspiciously.
"Hi, this Dean, from the plane." The voice said from the other side.
You smirked, he was nothing but persistent, "Hi, Dean," You said politely.
"So, I was wondering," he began, "if maybe you would like to get a drink with me… tonight?"
"Uh, yeah… I guess." You replied.
"Sounds good, I'll pick you up at 8 then?" He asked politely.
You agreed on the time and gave him the address of your hotel. Promising you'd have a good time with him, Dean said goodbye, and after the phone conversation you began to feel nervous. You tried laughing the nerves away, but it didn't help. Why were you even nervous, it was just drinks, yet there was something undeniable about Dean.
Before you knew it it was 8 o'clock, and you got a call from Dean letting you know he was down in the lobby. You met him in the lobby, and noticed how good he looked in a suit.
"Hey!" Dean cried when he saw you,
"Hi," you said quietly averting your eyes, hoping he didn't catch you staring.
"C'mon, I got a cab waiting outside." He led you outside, opened the door to the cab, and let you slide in.
Once in the cab he directed the driver to the bar.
"So, where are we going?" You asked breaking the silence.
"The best bar in the Upper East Side, you'll love it." He chuckled.
You got the feeling that this is where he took all of the people he flirted with on planes, but it didn't matter. You were excited just to be near him. He sent your blood pumping, and you couldn't figure out why you liked him so much.
At the bar Dean ordered a whiskey from himself and a martini for you. A few drinks later you were starting to feel a buzz, and the conversation turned to a flirtatious nature. Noting the time, you mentioned heading back to your hotel.
Dean led you outside and hailed a cab. He wrapped his arm around your waist, and your blood started racing. He helped you into the cab, and got in himself. Suddenly he was so close. You could smell the alcohol on him. You looked into his green eyes and the whole world was gone. All that mattered was Dean. How close he was. How he leaned in. How his lips gently brushed yours.
The cab screeched to a halt, and you were both jerked back into the reality of New York City. You looked into his eyes, and not wanting to leave his side you asked in a low voice, "Wanna come up?"
Dean nodded and payed the driver. You both got out of the cab and made your way into the hotel. In the elevator Dean's arm snaked around your waist pulling you closer to him. Once the elevator doors opened you broke free of his grasp and led him to your room.
Once in the room you threw your coat on the small couch, and headed for the kitchenette. "Do you want some coffee or something?" You asked.
Dean grabbed you and pulled you close to him, "Or something…" He whispered in your ear.
Your lips met again this time with so much intensity you had to sit down. On the couch Dean knotted his fingers in your hair, kissing you with ferocity. After what seemed like an eternity of kissing you adjusted your bodies to lay down on the couch. Dean's body hovered over yours as he began kissing down your neck, reveling in the pleasure. Instantly, you came to your senses and sat up.
"Y/N, what's wrong?" He asked in a gruff voice.
"Nothing…" You trailed off
Dean sensed your uneasiness stood up immediately, "I'm sorry," he said "I'll see myself out."
He grabbed his coat and waved awkwardly as he backed out of the door. You sat on the couch, head reeling from what happened, and fought the urge to run after him. What was wrong with you? Why were you so hooked on this guy you just met? Would you ever see him again?