Best Birthday Ever
It was an unspoken agreement between the pair that they take the long route in their journey back to the hotel. Not down the main-street as they had taken when leaving the bar, but the roads through the local neighborhood – the pretty ones, with those annoying trees lining the pavements and all that other homely kind of stuff.
As it was clearly a family neighborhood – Dean had even spotted a gnome in one garden, for Christ's sake – the streets were empty at this time of night, and he and Buffy found themselves walking down the center of the road with no interference from cars.
Dean's arm was slung casually around Buffy's shoulder, just like he'd seen other guys do to their girls, and hers was wrapped firmly around his waist. She was leaning against him and the intimacy of the situation made Dean glow inside, which was crazy because he'd always mocked the idiots who acted all coupley in public before. Maybe he'd been jealous? Nah. Far more likely it was just Buffy's influence that was making him feel like maybe this wasn't such a dumb thing to do after all.
He silently cursed himself for leaving his jacket behind at the bar. It wasn't cold, but he wished he had it so that he could offer to let her wear it. She'd look cute in something so huge for her and it seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do. And Buffy sorta made him want to act like a gentleman, in an 'I want to rip your clothes off and ravish you until you can't move,' kind of way.
He looked down at her face. She was staring at the ground and biting her lip, looking troubled, and Dean was pretty sure he knew why. Now that they weren't acting like crazed, lusty, hormone controlled teenagers and were actually able to think almost clearly again, the guilt was slowly starting to creep in. He knew that when Sam, and especially Faith, found out about what they'd done there was going to be trouble, but he was just too busy being insufferably happy right now to really give a rat's ass.
Dean's estimations on where Buffy's thoughts were at were pretty spot on. She was feeling guilty. Guilty about how what had just happened might hurt Faith, and guilty that no matter how guilty she felt she couldn't quite manage to tear herself away from Dean's embrace. She was simply content to hold him right now, just be close to him while they walked, and she was pretty sure he felt the same way too. She'd allow the real guilt to take over later.
She glanced up into his face, starting a little in surprise when she realized he was sporting a giant, shit eating grin. "What are you looking so cheery about?" she asked, her tone laced with amusement. The sound of her voice seemed almost alien to the pair of them, it being the first noise they'd made since leaving the cemetery.
He shrugged in reply and pulled her closer to him, kissing the top of her head. "Nothing much. Just...best birthday ever. Ya know, stuff."
Buffy felt her entire insides warm right up at his answer, and she smiled delightedly. "Really?"
Dean nodded, waggling his eyebrows up and down and grinning rakishly. He turned their bodies around to face each other and walked her backwards a couple of paces, onto the pavement and against one of those not quite so annoying anymore neighborhood trees. Angling his head down towards hers, he gave her what he had intended to be a quick kiss, but was soon something a whole lot more passionate. One of his hands buried themselves into her knotted hair, and the other grabbed a hold of her butt to pull her closer.
As Buffy's welcomed his tongue into her mouth, her own hands were making quick work of exploring every little inch of Dean that she could reach, and when he made that small moaning noise at the back of his throat when she ran her nails up the sides of his chest underneath his shirt, it made her tummy tingle deliciously.
Neither could get enough of the other, and both were very much willing to admit that, if only in their actions.
Another twenty minutes – and seven stops for smoochies and serious groping – later, they finally arrived back at the hotel. They were like a pair of giggling teenagers as they stumbled together into the darkened room, thankful that neither Faith nor Sam had arrived back from the bar just yet.
It was when Buffy switched on the light that the whole atmosphere changed. Now fully able to see one another, they stepped awkwardly into the center of the room, unintentionally keeping at least two feet apart. And the distance wasn't only physical, either. It was as if the bright, sudden light of the hotel room had brought things home to them abruptly, made their actions more real. Both opened and closed their mouths, desperate to find something to say to fill the embarrassing silence.
Buffy was finding that even though they'd swapped saliva and he'd been inside her not an hour before, she couldn't quite manage to look Dean in the eye. She felt bad, and she felt awkward in a way she hadn't felt since her first time with Angel. She was pretty sure that it was because what she and Dean had just done meant something, really meant something. She hadn't felt that in a long time. She gave herself a mental shake – she was being ridiculous! She wasn't a teenager anymore, she was a grown adult, and the least she could do was look into the eyes of the man she had just had sex with.
Okay, so maybe she'd just build up to it, starting with his boots. And his jeans. His very, very mud scuffed jeans. And his very, very mud scuffed t-shirt. In fact, he was mud scuffed all over, and Buffy blushed when she realized she must look just as bad.
"So I'm gonna go take a shower," she announced, finally breaking that unbearable silence.
Dean nodded, and watched as she stepped over to the bathroom door. She paused for a moment, before turning to face him, the ghost of a seductive smile brightening up her face. "Wanna join me?"
He was across the room in two strides. "Man, this birthday just keeps on getting better and better," was his excited reply as he scooped up a squealing Buffy into his arms and walked her into the bathroom.
Dean laughed as she playfully swatted at his arms, insanely glad that the tension that had creeped up on them so easily not moments ago had been so quickly batted away.
Depositing Buffy to perch herself uncomfortably on the sink, he moved over and pulled back the shower curtain, switching it on so as to give it time to heat up. When he turned back, Buffy was watching him and biting her lip alluringly. He smirked and moved over to her, his movements quick and swift like a predator.
"This time I get to undress you properly," he said, beaming. "Baby-girl, you have no idea how long I've dreamed of doing exactly that."
"I hope that's not where the dream ended."
"Oh, hell no!"
Saying nothing else and never taking her eyes off of Dean's, Buffy slid off her jacket and tossed it to the floor, before reaching her arms up into the air.
It was an unspoken request, and Dean certainly didn't need any help understanding. Stepping in between her parted legs, he slipped his fingers underneath the bottom of her shirt and slid them up the soft skin of her waist, pulling the shirt up along with them. He took his time, reveling in the feeling of finally being able to touch her without having to pretend to knock into her or whatever other flimsy excuses he'd come up with in the past.
Once her shirt was off and discarded who knew where, he knelt down before her, his mouth at the perfect height to place a gentle kiss on her bellybutton. He slowly lifted himself up, leaving a trail of sweet kisses over her abdomen until he reached her bra. With a wicked grin, he reached one hand behind Buffy's back and had the material unclasped in less than a second.
"Impressive," purred Buffy, beckoning him closer after shaking the garment off.
"Sweetheart, you have no idea."
Wrapping her legs around his waist and using them to pull him closer, Buffy dragged up Dean's own t-shirt over his head, baring his oh so yummy chest. She ran her nails lightly over his stomach and was pleased when he leaned his head back and closed his eyes in pleasure. Loosening her legs, she unclasped his jeans – glad that this time there was no belt to struggle with – and giggled charmingly when he wiggled his butt to make them fall down.
Right then, Dean decided that that was his most favorite sound in the whole world, and that he'd act like a freakin' clown every day for the rest of his life to keep on making her laugh like that if he had to. Only...not right now, 'cause he was tryna sex her up.
So off came his boots and socks, quickly followed by jeans and underwear until he was standing gloriously and unabashedly naked in front of her.
He loved the way she bit her lip as she watched him, loved the way she took her time taking him all in from top to bottom, loved the way that this time they actually had a chance to take everything in, really get to know one another, inside and out.
Before Buffy's very own eyes, Dean grew bigger as he once again began to harden under her scrutinizing gaze.
"Lift your left leg," Dean demanded, once Buffy had looked her fill – for now.
She did as she was told and lifted her left leg up into the air, allowing Dean to take a hold of her foot in one hand and pull off her shoe. He lifted the leg higher – entranced to find out she was just as flexible as he had imagined, he'd certainly be making good use of that later – and placed a soft kiss on her ankle. They repeated their actions with her right leg and Dean was joyfully able to pull off her jeans.
"Commando!" he breathed, letting out a low, appreciative whistle.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "In case you've forgotten, I was wearing underwear until somebody ripped it to pieces."
"Oh yeah." He smirked as he remembered their earlier actions in the cemetery, and looked down to where he'd kicked off his jeans. Her ripped panties were sticking out of his back pocket.
"You're a freak of nature," Buffy observed dryly when she spotted them.
With a low growl, Dean swooped forwards and gathered Buffy up into his arms, moving them both over towards the shower. It was difficult to climb in while they were so consumed by the kissing, but somehow he managed it.
Neither of them felt the warm spray of water as Dean pushed her back against the tiled wall as he kissed her, both too busy exploring each others naked bodies with their hands to notice that they were getting soaked.
Eventually, Buffy came to her senses – or at least partially – and pushed Dean away so that there was a little space between them. "We need to actually shower before I turn into a giant prune," she panted. "Lusty, sexy time can come later."
Dean pouted. "But I was planning on getting you all dirty in lusty, sexy time. If we do it later we'll just have to shower all over again."
"I'm okay with that."
"Stubborn woman."
"Horny man."
Dean chuckled and shook his head, placing his hands on her shoulders and squeezing them affectionately. "Sorry, I'm being too...It's just...now that I've got you, now that you're mine, I can't seem get enough of you."
The girl inside of Buffy melted like ice-cream in a microwave. She moved forwards and stood up on her tiptoes to place a grateful kiss on his lips, quickly stepping out of the way again when Dean tried to make it passionate once more. Before he could come after her, she picked up her shampoo and pointed it at him.
"No!" she asserted sternly, whilst trying not to giggle at the sullen expression on his face.
Dean, never one to waste an opportunity, snatched the bottle out of her fingers, waggling his eyebrows suggestively when she looked at him in confusion. He poured some out into his hands and lathered it up before stepping forwards and joining Buffy under the spray. He gestured for her to turn around, and began to massage the shampoo into her wet hair once she'd complied.
Buffy closed her eyes and leaned her head back into his hands at the relaxing sensations.
As he continued to wash her hair, little soapy bubbles left her head and traveled in trails down her neck, curling over her shoulders and making their way down her body. He grinned as he leaned his head over her shoulder to watch, especially enjoying the way the bubbles curved over her breasts. His hands left her hair to rub the bubbles into the soft mounds, getting them soapy and wet and everything he'd ever fantasized about. Ever.
He heard her breath hitch as he rubbed his thumbs over her hardened nipples, and he did it again just to drive her crazy. But when she tried to turn around and move closer to him, Dean stopped his ministrations and held her in place.
"Ah ah ah!" he said teasingly, holding up a solitary finger in front of her and moving it back and forth and beaming when he realized how infuriated that it made her. "Shower first, lusty time later. Remember?"
Buffy shook her head in bemusement. "Asshole."
Chuckling, Dean moved her back into the spray – ignoring his own highly aroused state – and gently rinsed the suds from her hair. He repeated all of his movements with the conditioner before getting to the bit he was most highly anticipating. His cock hardened as he picked up her fruity smelling body wash, the thought of being able to get her body all slippery and shiny and actually being able to touch it making him feel almost dizzy with excitement.
Man, was God on his side or what!
Lathering up the gel in his hands, he moved up behind her and pressed their bodies together, back to chest, and he reached around her to begin rubbing it over her skin. He glided his hands up over her thighs, her stomach, her breasts, her shoulders, and then back down again, fully enjoying feeling her turn into a quivering wreck beneath his very fingertips. As she rested her head back against his shoulder, he slowly moved his fingers towards her inner thighs, creeping them upwards until they were ghosting over the lips of her hot center, sliding them up and down just enough to drive her wild, but not enough to satisfy her. When she moaned and once again tried to move closer, he stopped her just like he had before.
Buffy was pretty sure that if her limbs weren't feeling so much like jelly right at that moment she would have surely killed him. Maimed the idiot, at least.
When it came around to her turn to wash Dean, she decided with no uncertainty that she would be getting her revenge. After washing his hair and rinsing it and being told that in no way was she putting that girly conditioner crap on his hair, even if she was hot, she began to lather him up with his 'manly' shower gel – her fruity smelling body wash being another big no. She ran her hands over the hard lines of his chest, and then pressed her own wet body up against his, making sure that he could feel her breasts as she rubbed them shamelessly against him. As she continued to soap him up, she smirked in the knowledge that she was affecting him just as much as he had affected her – if the way his penis was straining upwards in the air was anything to go by.
Time to get her own back.
After washing away the suds that covered him, Buffy made sure that he was looking at her face and slowly licked her lips before dropping down to her knees before him, earning herself a nice, loud gulp. Smiling innocently, she took his hot member into her hand, moving her firm grip up and down the length and placing a kiss on the tip of it.
"Oh dear God," Dean moaned, feeling himself swell even more.
"Nope," she replied, licking off a drop of pre-cum and smacking her lips together. "Just Buffy." And then she took him into her mouth.
He was big. She'd been able to tell that much when he'd been inside her, and when she'd been staring at hm, but she hadn't realized just how big he was until she was straining her mouth around him. She had to work just to take him all in, but was very glad she did once she heard the pleasured 'guhahhh' noise he made when he touched the back of her throat.
She swallowed to see whether or not he liked it.
He most certainly did.
Grinning around him, she sucked in her cheeks as she pulled back.
Dean could hardly see around the fog that seemed to have taken over him. Hell, he could barely even manage to keep on standing up as he was lost in the feel of Buffy's mouth. He threw one arm back blindly until it hit the cold tiles of the wall and attempted to use it to steady himself. The other he rested on top of Buffy's wet hair.
While her mouth was busy, Buffy ran her hands up and down his thighs. She hadn't meant to make this real, to make this last. She'd just been intending to tease him a little, just like he'd done with her. Drive him crazy and then stop before the big finale. But now she was finding that she was liking it way too much to want to stop.
Stupid Dean and his stupid, alluring penis.
It wasn't long before she felt him about ready to come, and she increased the speed of her movements to help him along. When he tried to pull out of her mouth, she grabbed a hold of his butt cheeks and dug her nails in to keep him where he was.
Unable to hold back any longer, Dean spilled his load into her mouth, leaning back against the wall as she swallowed it and released him.
"Mm," Buffy said with a breathy little moan. "Tasty."
The fog was finally beginning to clear from Dean's mind, and he looked down at her in utter amazement, his chest heaving from large pants. "You," he began, reaching down to pull her up by the arms and into his embrace. "are absofreakinlutely, unbelievably awesome!"
"I know," she answered teasingly. "It's kind of a thing."
They washed themselves down again before climbing out of the shower, and Dean wasted no time at all in scooping her up into his arms once more. He banged out of the bathroom and headed straight over towards one of the beds, dropping Buffy down onto it. She landed with an 'oomph!' and a look of surprise, and Dean stopped a moment to appreciate her glistening body before licking his lips and pouncing on top of her.
"Dean!" Buffy squealed, laughing as he attacked her neck with little nibbles. "We can't do this yet! We haven't dried off, the bed will get all wet!"
"I'm gonna get you all wet," he growled, kissing her fiercely and making her forget all about how ruined the sheets would be once they'd finished.
Moving away from her mouth, Dean kissed her cheek and then went back down to her neck, biting her shoulder and placing a trail of open mouthed kisses down the column of her throat and onto her collar bone. He licked a straight line down to her breasts with the tip of his tongue, pulling away and watching with pleasure as her nipples hardened under his heated gaze.
"Sweet holy hell, you're...perfect," he breathed, before leaning down to take a hard nipple into his mouth.
Dean reached a hand over to her other breast, determined that they get equal attention. When he bit down on one and pinched the other, Buffy bucked her body up towards his and moaned. His girl clearly liked it rough.
Once he was satisfied that he'd spent enough time on her breasts – and effectively turned her into a pile of gooey mush – Dean began to move down Buffy's body once more, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake as he made his way towards his goal.
Finally crouched down between her legs, he pushed apart her knees – with absolutely no protest from their owner. She was trembling with desire and he could see that she was already coated in her own juices.
Parting her lips with his fingers, he dived in and licked a straight line from hole to clit.
"Ungh yeah!" she choked out, her body tingling all over already.
Delicious, Dean observed. She was completely fucking delicious. Although it stood to reason, really, so it didn't come as that much of a surprise. Everything else about her was perfect, so it only made sense that she'd be perfect down here too.
As he sucked on her clit, he mused over the fact that he'd never enjoyed going down on a girl more than he was doing right now, and Dean Winchester was a big fan of oral sex. Let it be said that no woman had ever been left unsatisfied. He slid two fingers into her and curled them upwards as he began to pump them in and out, absolutely adoring those little squealy sounds she was making and the way that she was grabbing a hold of his hair in an effort to push him closer.
"More," she gasped.
Dean happily complied, adding another finger and moving them in and out of her even faster.
She thrashed underneath him, and he was finding it difficult to keep her still. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to use his spare hand to hold her hips down or relieve his own throbbing ache. But when she let out a deep, throaty moan that was just as sexy as damned hell, he found his decision made for him, and he reached a hand down to pump at his rapidly hardening – for the third time, what the hell was she doing to him? – dick.
It was when he bit down on her clit that Buffy began to come, furiously, unable to control her own movements as she bucked her hips up into his face. Dean stopped pleasuring himself so that he could wrap an arm around her butt to steady her while he lapped up the rest of her juices.
Whilst Buffy slowly drifted back down to earth, Dean once again climbed up her body, positioning himself on his hands and knees above her.
She pushed a long breath out of pursed lips, smiling giddily as she pulled him down for a long, lingering kiss. "You're really good at that." The longer they kissed, the more she could taste herself on his tongue. Instead of repelling her, it only fueled her desire for Dean even more.
He lowered himself down on top of her, and she could feel his hard erection pressing into her stomach. In one swift movement, she had rolled them over so that their positions were reversed and she was sitting on top of him.
"My turn to take control," she declared, smiling coquettishly.
Dean's eyes shined with excitement. "Go ahead, beautiful, go right ahead."
She leaned up onto her knees and took a hold of his penis, rubbing it up and down her sex in slow, sensuous movements. Watching Buffy pleasure herself with his own dick was just about the hottest thing he'd ever seen – and here was a man who'd watched a lot of porn on a long, lonely hunt – and if he didn't get inside her right the fuck now he was going to explode into itty bitty pieces. And that would probably kill the mood.
Grabbing a hold of her hips, he shifted her forwards a little and bucked up, hoping she'd get the hint.
She did, and with a sly smile, she raised her body up and slid herself down onto his shaft, enveloping him in her wonderful warmth. Resting her hands on his thighs behind her, forcing her breasts to thrust outwards, she slowly began to move up and down. There was nothing she liked more than being in control, and the fact that Dean seemed to be enjoying it so much made her feel all the more sexy. Her movements became quicker and shallower, and she alternated between them and the deeper ones.
Dean grasped a tight hold of her waist, lifting his hips up to meet her for every hard thrust, urging her on eagerly – not that she needed any encouragement. Man, she looked so good up there, bouncing away on top of him as if her life depended on it.
But as much as he was enjoying watching her, he was feeling her absence, even now. He needed to be closer to her, needed to be touching every inch of her body with his. He wanted to be near her. He always wanted to be near her, from now on especially.
He sat up and wrapped his arms around her back, and he could feel Buffy's gasp like a little gust of wind on his shoulder as his movement brought him deeper inside her. After only a second, she regained her control carried on moving up and down.
Her body was higher now, and her breasts were perfectly aligned with Dean's face. He took advantage of this to take a pink nipple into his mouth and bite down.
It was ironic, really, that Buffy's biggest weakness was being bitten, and it only proved how skilled a lover Dean really was that he had already figured that out. She soon found her release, digging her nails into his shoulders and throwing her head back as she yelled out hoarsely.
Dean rolled them over gently and pinned her down underneath him. He paused for a moment, one hand on either side of her head, and looked down at her. Though her eyes were still slightly glazed, she looked right back up at him, and he felt something indescribable pass through him, which he filed away for later thought when he wasn't quite so busy with other more important matters. He leaned down and placed a kiss on her lips, before he began to move in and out of her again. His thrusts were hard and deep, and with Buffy's inner muscles still clenching around him, it wasn't long before he was joining her in sweet bliss, his eyes locked on to hers the whole time. He cried out as he came, pressing his damp forehead against hers as he felt his energy draining away.
Still entwined, he collapsed, half next to her and half on top of her, and they lay together for some time, panting and waiting for their heartbeats to get back to normal.
Dean, with a thoughtful look adorning his face, pulled her silently into his arms, mulling over what he suspected had just happened.
He was pretty sure that he'd just made love to Buffy, in a big kinda way. He gulped audibly and blinked as he tried to understand what that meant. He wondered if she'd noticed, or whether it had just been simple sex to her. He didn't quite understand it, but he did know that although he'd had sex with more woman than he'd had hot dinners, he'd never quite done that with them before.
She snuggled into his chest and gave a content little sigh, and Dean decided that he didn't really need to understand it right now. What mattered was that she was here, with him. Just like she should be.
A little while later, Buffy lifted up her head to rest her chin on Dean's chest. After glancing over at the clock on the bedside table, she looked back over at him and smiled dreamily. "You know," she started. "It's still early. I wouldn't be offended if you wanted to head back to the bar. There's still a couple of hours left of your birthday to celebrate."
Smiling affectionately, Dean finally pulled out of her so that he could lean down and pull up the sheet to cover their naked bodies. Buffy pouted at the loss of contact, and snuggled closer to him once he had lain back down.
"Nah," he replied eventually. "I like the idea of staying here with you and having extra naked time more."
"And here I thought that you couldn't get to sleep without the dulling consummation of your regular one or six beers," she teased, pinching his chest playfully.
All at once, Dean had rolled them over and was back crouching over her, his lips nuzzling at her throat. "Don't need beer," was his muffled answer into her skin. "I'm drunk already, drunk on Buffyness. And I like it!"
Giggling freely, she reached her hands up to his cheeks to pull him in for another kiss.
They both paused when they heard a noise outside the door.
"Oh crap," was mumbled, from what sounded suspiciously like Sam. There was a shuffle, and a jangle of keys clearly being dropped on the floor.
Buffy and Dean looked at each other with wide, horrified eyes for one short moment, before Buffy quickly whipped out of bed and across to the bathroom, banging the door closed behind her. She moved so fast, in fact, that she was nothing more to Dean than a wild blur.
Moving almost as fleetingly as Buffy had, Dean jumped over to where a pair of his jeans lay and yanked them on before flopping back down onto the bed, arranging himself into a casual position just in time for a drunk Sam to enter the room.
"Couldn't get my key to work," Sam blurted, swaying slightly. "Think the lock shrunk while we were out. Oh, here's your jacket, by the way. You left it behind. Stupid."
Dean let out a sigh of relief – they had gotten away with it! Sam was obviously very inebriated – if his insane rambles were anything to go by – which would make acting like nothing had happened a lot easier. A sober Sam would have known there was something going on immediately.
"Where've you been, anyway?" Sam demanded, as he stumbled over to one of the chairs. "It's like, your birthday and you vanished, ya know? And then Faith told all these girls that it was my birthday and they kept on buying me shots which I had to drink! Do you know what that's like, Dean?"
"Awesome?"
"Well...yeah...but that's not the point."
"What is the point?"
"Uh...the point is...is..." He scrunched his face up whilst trying to remember. "Aha! The point is...where'd you go?"
"Uh...me and Buffy ran into a pack of vamps. Things got messy so we came back here to clean up."
Dean thanked his lucky stars for the fact that he'd been able to come up with that so quick – it had kinda been true, anyway – and that Sam was so intoxicated. He was usually pretty good in figuring out when his big brother was lying to him. Instead he simply nodded his head and yawned.
"I'm beat," he divulged. "Think I'll get ready to hit the sack."
"Fine," Dean replied. "Wait a second, where's Faith at?"
"Oh, she's just behind me. She was flirting with the desk guy so I went on ahead."
"Sounds about right."
Buffy leaned her back against the bathroom door, only a towel covering her naked body. Her scared, heavy pants had only just began to calm down, but her heart was still beating furiously away. She couldn't believe Sam had almost just walked in on them! What if he had seen them? What would he think? Oh boy...
This was one helluva reality boost, that was for sure.
God, what the frick had they been thinking? What the frick had she been thinking?
Dean belonged to Faith.
He was Faith's man and that was that, and Buffy had just...well she had just done a whole bunch of seriously naughty things with her best friends guy, and that was just so wrong.
And yes, maybe Dean and Faith weren't technically together anymore – if together is what they had been in the first place – but Faith had met him first, plain and simple. She had staked her claim, and Buffy had just pulled it out and thrown it to the moon.
She was going to hell, and she totally deserved it.
Taking a deep breath and reprimanding herself for being so cowardly and hiding in the bathroom, she slipped on her pajamas, glad that she'd been too lazy to tidy them away this morning, and let herself back into the bedroom.
She glanced over at Sam, who smiled cheerily at her and waved, and then at Dean, who gave a small shake of his head, which Buffy assumed meant that Sam didn't know anything. She sighed gratefully.
"I was just telling Sam about those vamps we dusted," Dean explained, eying her meaningfully. "And how that was the reason we didn't make it back to the bar."
"Oh...uh...yeah, sure," she replied, catching on to what he was trying to tell her. "Night full of vampy killing goodness. Can't sleep without it. And talking of sleep," She feigned a large yawn. "I'm exhausted. I'm gonna get into bed."
Dean tried his best to catch her eye again, but his efforts were futile. She was avoiding his gaze, and he suspected it had a whole lot to do with how bad she was feeling right now. He got it, he really did. He felt bad too. But he also felt like every single thing they'd done together throughout the night had been...right, and he was damned sure that he wasn't about to give up on them now. Nor would he let her try, either.
She'd touched him tonight, and he didn't just mean physically. She'd changed him, altered his mind, his soul, his heart. She was all around him, under his skin, in his blood...and he liked it.
No chance on earth was he about to let her go, not without a fight.
