A/N: This one was inspired by...a pair of blue jeans. I own several pairs of the brand of jeans referred to in this little story, and they do, in fact, say what you read below... :) As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to work it into a Dean/Sophia Passion Play moment! Please enjoy and don't forget to hit that little review button at the bottom! Reviews are love!

Special thanks to TLOGirl for her wonderful beta skills and always kind feedback and support! She's just started a new Winchester story where the boys travel to New Orleans and it's a goodie! Go have a look!

Disclaimer: Blah blah, yeah, yeah, we all know the drill.

Lucky

Sophia leans back into the wall, her fingers scrabbling to find purchase on the slick wallpaper. Dean kisses his way down her neck, unbuttoning the buttons on her shirt as he goes.

They had barely made it through the door before Dean had pushed her against the motel room wall, mouth greedy and demanding. He'd been tormenting her all afternoon. Every time he looked at her, it was with a heavy lidded, hungry gaze, desire clear in his glowing green eyes.

"Are you trying to kill me with all these buttons?" he growls, fumbling with the last ones as his fingers brush the skin of her stomach.

"You love it and you know it," she breathes. "Besides, you were making me crazy all afternoon with those looks."

He shifts his eyes up to hers, but his hands keep moving over her soft skin, pushing the shirt off her shoulders to the floor. "Oh yeah? What looks?"

He's doing it again. "That look," she mumbles as her breath hitches at the heat in his eyes. "The one that was stripping me naked and ravishing me against the nearest available surface."

Chuckling, he moves to undo the front clasp on her bra before pushing it away. Her knees buckle a little as his hands drift over her breasts. "Ravishing, huh? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" he murmurs against her mouth, chuckling again when she groans and shivers beneath his touch.

"It's a technical term," she manages to gasp before his mouth closes over hers again. She's just as hungry as he is and her hands slide around his head to tug him closer as her tongue duels with his.

Dean leans into her then, pressing her flat against the wall and trapping her with the weight of his body. His hands seem to be everywhere. Touching, stroking, rubbing. Driving her absolutely mad.

Arching her body into his, she rubs their hips together, turning up the heat even further. Their mouths continue to devour each other as their breathing becomes heavier. Sophia shoves her hands under his t-shirt, wanting to feel bare skin. She glides up his back, then down, dragging her fingers along his spine, making him shiver.

All too soon, he drags his mouth from hers and moves down her body. His mouth is scorching over her skin and her eyes slip closed, focusing on the warmth flowing through her. Dropping to his knees in front of her, his tongue flickers across her stomach as his hands slide over her hips.

She squirms against him, struggling to hold back the plea she wants to make. When he's in one of these moods, her begging only encourages him. She hears her zipper slide down and just barely bites back a moan of anticipation. When she hears his laugh, however, she looks down at him.

He looks up at her, eyebrow raised, then back down at her jeans, a wicked grin on his face. "Lucky you?"

She giggles, realizing he's reading the words on the zipper placket of her new jeans. "Flip it open," she suggests, her own wicked grin in place.

He does and laughs again. "Lucky me."

"So, Winchester, am I gonna get lucky or what?"

"Maybe," he growls, sliding the edges of the jeans down very slowly. His tongue skims along her waist, swirling in her belly button, making her gasp. "I haven't decided yet."

Releasing her death grip on the wall, she tangles her fingers in his short hair. If he's going to torment her, she's going to return the favor. "Have I mentioned how sexy it is to see you on your knees like that?"

"I'll bet," he replies with a snort, not really taking the bait and instead inching her jeans down over her hips. His hands slip inside to cup her bottom, arching her toward him. He flicks his tongue over her already damp panties, weakening her knees again. "Have I mentioned how much it turns me on that I can make you this wet and I've barely even started?"

She shudders, trying not to melt into a puddle on the floor. "I'm almost naked and we're just inside the door. You call that barely started?"

His voice is the dark and smoky growl he saves just for her. "Oh, baby, I can promise you this is just the beginning." He draws her jeans slowly down her legs, caressing each bit of newly exposed skin as he goes. Removing the jeans and her shoes, he turns his attention back her body.

Not able to truly touch him, Sophia again reaches for the wall and the door frame, curling her fingers around it. Anything to hang onto as his mouth and hands threaten to generate enough heat to consume her.

Rough hands stroke her from her knees to her thighs to her hips. A hot mouth follows in their wake, tongue tickling and teasing. Breath flutters across her overheated skin, making her shiver. A thumb worries its way under the edge of her panties and she sucks in a breath. But the thumb just skims the crease of her thigh, rubbing circles ever so close to her core, but never touching it.

"Dean, please..." Forgetting her promise to herself, she begs for more. She feels like she might lose her mind if he keeps tormenting her this way.

His purring laugh makes her look down at him, barely able to focus. His eyes are dark as they glance up at her before dropping back to where his fingers continue their slow, grazing movements. "Please, what, sweetheart? I thought you wanted to get lucky."

Before she find words to reply, he's easing her panties down her legs, tossing them to the side after she steps out of them. And then he's looking up at her again, eyes catching hers as his hands move between her thighs, nudging them apart.

"I want to taste you," he murmurs, thumbs back to their distracting circling, this time on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. "I've been thinking about it all day. That's what I was thinking about every time I looked at you."

Biting her lip, she tries to keep her gaze on him as his thumbs lazily, but deliberately, circle upward. "Yes," she breathes, "yes, I...please...Dean..." For all their banter earlier, coherent thought now seems completely beyond her as he gently urges her thighs further apart.

At the first long swipe of his tongue, her eyes slam shut and she gasps, her hips jerking toward him. It's all she can do to keep her feet as her bones seem to melt under his deft stroking. Struggling for breath, her fingers tighten on the door frame. For a crazy, incoherent second, she wonders if she might pull it apart. The thought disappears almost instantly as Dean's hot mouth continues to devour her and she squirms, whether to avoid the torture or submit to it, she can't really tell.

She feels his hand slide up the back of her leg, urging it up over her shoulder, opening her even wider to his slick tongue. "Oh, God..." she moans heavily, her remaining knee weakening as she rocks against him. "Mmmm, so close...don't stop..."

Her back arches as one finger slips inside her, then two. She vaguely hears him murmuring her name, calling to her as his fingers coax her ever closer to a climax. Her hands tighten almost painfully on the door frame as she rolls her hips, finding a rhythm. Her breath comes in halting pants as wordless, keening sounds escape her.

The orgasm hits her like a freight train and she cries out his name as she arches her back, shuddering.

Dean's on his feet quickly, his arms circling her, holding her up. He presses soft kisses along her jaw as she pries her fingers from the wooden door frame. With a soft sigh, she loops her arms over his broad shoulders and buries her face in his neck.

His mouth drifts to her ear, his breath uneven. "You feelin' lucky yet, babe?"

She snickers and straightens, pushing him back. "Not even close," she says, continuing to push him back toward the bed. "Didn't you say something about this being just the beginning?"

The sexy grin he gives her sends heat flooding through her again. Stepping close, she reaches for the hem on his shirt, dragging it over his head. Ignoring the generous expanse of bare chest in front of her, she undoes his jeans, pulling them down then giving him a shove to make him sit on the edge of the bed.

Sophia kneels to unlace his boots, smacking him when he makes a comment about seeing her on her knees now. She makes quick work of the boots and the denim before climbing over him. He scoots back on the bed, his hands roaming over her hips and thighs, that naughty grin still on his lips.

"Whatcha got in mind, baby?" he asks, his voice practically smoldering now.

"Gonna have to wait and see," she purrs, running her hands over his shoulders and down his chest. She settles her hips against his, biting her lip as his hardness grinds against her still hypersensitive core. "But you're not gonna have to wait long."

Leaning down, her mouth finds his, hot and slow. Her hands drift to his waist as she leisurely explores his mouth. She feels his hands cupping her bottom and rolls her hips against his, forcing a groan from him.

She breaks the kiss and starts to move down over him. Nipping. Licking. Sucking. His skin is warm and slightly salty. She finds one lightly pebbled nipple and swirls her tongue around it. A soft purr rumbles in his chest, making her smile as she continues her attentions. Teeth join the tongue, scraping over the responsive skin.

Dean shifts under her, his hands tensing on her ribs, only to lose their grip as she slides further down. Her tongue is hot on his stomach, drawing teasing little circles as she strokes him through his boxer briefs. "God, baby..."

Another little smile drifts over her face. She whispers a breath over him through the now tight cotton. "Have I told you how much it turns me on that I can make you this hard?" she murmurs, turning his earlier words back on him.

A hissed breath answers her. "And you've barely started," he manages, his fingers digging into the sheets.

She chuckles and starts to ease down his underwear, exposing him to her avid gaze. The cotton briefs are quickly disposed of on the floor by the bed. Stroking him gently, fingers teasing, she settles between his thighs. Leaning over him, she lets her lips drift over the velvety smoothness, and feels him jerk beneath her.

Her hands drift to his hips, holding him in place as her mouth caresses him. He seems to grow even harder under her tongue and his heavy groans tell her she's doing something right. She wants him wild. She wants him shuddering with need. She wants him calling her name.

Dean's hips rock unevenly. "Sophia," he moans, his eyes closed, his voice hoarse with want. "Baby, please, I'm gonna..."

She slows her pace, then moves to kiss her way back up his body. He's breathing hard now, struggling for control. His eyes flutter open as she kisses him softly and she grins at him.

"You are trying to kill me," he mumbles, reaching for her.

"Not until I'm done with you."

He gasps a half laugh as she grinds against him. "I'll die a happy man, then."

Her eyes meet his, catching and holding his gaze as she takes him inside her. She bites her lip, struggling to keep her eyes open. God, he feels amazing. So hard. And she's so slick and tight around him, the pleasure rides right on the edge of painful.

Hands on her hips, he urges her to move, his head flung back. "Ahhhh, Sophia," he groans, surging into her. "God, you feel so good...so hot..."

Rocking slowly, she finds a rhythm. One unhurried enough to make it last, but fast enough to satisfy. Her fingers flex against his chest and her eyes drift closed. Heat flows through her like lava, sinking between her legs.

"Dean," she whispers, her thighs tense around his hips.

Responding to something he hears in her voice, he sits up, his mouth crushing down over hers as his hands slide over her bottom. "Sophia." His voice is still rough, still smoky. It sends a flash of desire down her spine, arching her against him.

Tongues tangle. Kisses are only half completed and punctuated by harsh breath and shuddering moans. Hands grasp and knead. Stroke and tease.

Sophia tangles her hands in his short hair, her hips losing their rhythm as she approaches her climax. She pants his name, hears her own in return. "Yes, yes, yes, yes."

"Now, baby, now," he gasps.

Her cry mingles with his as she tumbles over the edge, her body rippling, clenching around him as he finds his own orgasm.

Dean flops back against the pillows, pulling her with him. She sprawls over him, bonelessly, breathing hard. He strokes her back, long and slow, soothing her.

"Wow." He exhales softly.

"That's one word for it," she says with a giggle.

He rolls her under him, and kisses her senseless. "So," he says, cocky smirk firmly back in place, "feelin' lucky now, sweetheart?"

She laughs and snuggles into him, one leg slipping between his. "Luckiest woman in the world, babe. Luckiest woman in the world."