I straightened my skirt as I took a seat at the bar. Playing dress up is about one of the only fun aspects of my job and I make the best if it, today I had role played an office temp. My tight black shirt and knee length grey pencil skirt was getting me a lot of stares in the dive bar I'd called into, but I didn't care. I'd had a bitch of a day, needed a drink and this place was the only bar within walking distance of the crappy motel I was currently residing at.

I was reading some news on my phone and three quarters of a way through my first vodka soda when a voice made me look up.

'You come here often?'

I looked up to see the man who had taken the free bar stool beside me. I laughed out loud. He was cheesy, but also hot. He pulled it off.

'No' I said, clicking my phone shut and looking over at him. 'But it's the only place that's within walking distance of that crappy motel next door and the bartender has a loose pour'

He laughed and nodded his head, extending a hand.

'Dean Winchester' he said with a grin and a smouldery look in his green eyes.

'Orla Connolly' I replied, shaking it. When my skin touched his a weird little zap went up my arm and my eyes widened as I watched his eyes do the same. After a second I dropped his hand and cleared my throat. He stared at me a second more before speaking.

'Another?'

I looked at him for a moment before nodding. I never allow myself to get picked up in bars, its not my thing but something about this guy was…something. I nodded and he turned to the bar, calling over the bartender as I appraised him out of the corner of my eye.

Older than me, mid thirties maybe. Dark blonde hair, longer on top, shorter on the sides, and pushed up. Square jaw, straight nose. Slight cleft on his chin. Tanned. Obviously tall, probably over 6ft. Well built, broad shoulders. Straight white teeth. Smelled like…gun powder and car oil? Something masculine. Jeans, boots, navy flannel shirt, grey t shirt. Sexy woodsman vibes. Maybe a truck driver or hunter – though unlikely my kind.

Once our drinks were paid for and made he turned to me again, clinking his fresh beer off my glass and winking at me with one of his sea coloured eyes in a way that made my stomach swoop.

'That accent' he said, still looking at me with that smouldery look in his eyes. ' Not American. Irish?'

I laughed and nodded. 'Good guess. Indeed.'

'Long way from home'

I shrugged. 'Work. I've lived here for a few years. You?'

He matched my shrug. 'Kansas. Passing through, have a friend who lives an hour from here. You here for long?'

'Two more days' I answered, feeling myself blush as his eyes swept me over.

A couple of hours later I was a bit tipsy. Dean Winchester was buying the drinks and he was generous. I was more than aware of the fact that he was trying to get lucky but honestly I didn't care. He was hot. And funny. And staying at the same motel as me, apparently with his brother. In the same room. More than a few sparks flew as we chatted and at last call when I picked up my bag and jacket, he stood and held out an arm.

'Let's get you home, Irish' he said with another stomach trembler of a wink. I hesitated for a second before slipping off my stool and taking it.

Arriving at my door I opened it and turned to him. He was watching me apprehensively, chewing on the inside of his lip as though he had something to say. I studied him for a second wondering if I was going to let myself have a one night stand with this guy who I'd spent the last few hours with, something I never did.

I decided to make an exception.

'Night cap?' I asked, watching his reaction. His eyes widened slightly and he nodded silently. I opened the door and invited him in, dropping my bag and jacket on the bed and pulling the two beers from the mini fridge.

He took it silently and watched me as I switched on a small lamp, hung my jacket by the door.

'Take a seat' I said, gesturing at the couch. He did, slowly and I stood in front of him watching him for a minute or so as he stared back at me.

Breaking all my own rules, I bent down and took his beer from his hands, placing it with mine on the small table. Hitched my skirt up and straddled him, his smell of gunpowder and leather making me light headed. I stared into his eyes for a second and leaned forward to kiss him, slowly at first and then harder. His lips on mine made an electrical storm start up in my head and his arms around me made me feel suddenly…safe. Which makes no sense, I thought, I don't even know this guy.

He slid his hands into my hair and made a noise deep in his throat as I shifted on his lap, standing up, removing my underwear and straddling him again. He let out a shallow breath of air as I kissed his jawline and neck, as though the tension had gone out of him. He took a sharp intake of air when I started to unbutton his jeans and kissed me harder.

Not long after I was crying out as he kissed my mouth. It didn't last long but holy shit it was proof of the saying 'quality beats quantity'. In under ten minutes he made my legs go weak, my head spin and my heart jump around in my chest like I was having a cardiac episode.

When it was over I breathed out into his neck and he moved his head, catching my mouth with his and kissing me again, making shivers go up my spine.

' Holy crap' he murmured, his hand tangled in my hair. I nodded and sat back. For a second he watched me and then kissed me again, slower this time and the electrical storm started up again. When he stopped I stood up and straightened my skirt.

'I gotta sleep' I said, my voice unsteady. He buttoned and zipped up, nodding his head. Once stood up he kissed me once more, sliding a hand around my waist and pulling me close before making for the door.

'I'm not leaving until the day after tomorrow' I said suddenly, surprisingly myself.

He turned to look at me and smiled. 'Guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow then, Irish. Same place same time?'

I nodded mutely and watched as he winked at me a last time and left the room.

Holy crap indeed.