Chapter 9:
"This is a really nice condo," Brenna stated taking in the living space. "I pictured you as a grungy bachelor pad kind of guy."
Dean walked back into the living room from his bedroom, "Really? I don't give off that overly sophisticated vibe. I'm a little hurt," he joked.
Brenna rolled her eyes. "You take longer to get ready than I do. Maybe you really are more of a woman."
Dean put his hands on his hips. "Alright, alright. Let's go."
Brenna followed Dean back to the truck where they rode in silence. It seemed like such a shame when Brenna's phone ran after Dean had parked. She just stared down at her phone like it was going to sprout legs and walk away.
Dean could tell by her expression and silence exactly who was calling. Without thinking he grabbed her phone, answering it, "Yeah."
"Who the fuck is this? Where's Bren?" Dillon's voice dripped with venom.
"You kiss your mama with that mouth?" Dean smirked. "Stop calling Brenna. If you come within a ten mile radius of her, I will rip you apart limb from limb. Don't fuck with her," then Dean simply hung up.
Brenna wasn't sure what to say or feel. She wanted him to stay out of it. He'd probably just made the whole situation all the worse. She was grateful that he apparently cared a little, but she didn't want Dean tangled in the dangerous situation in which she found herself.
Dean handed her phone back to her, "We're gonna stop by Sprint and change your number while we're out today." He gave her no room to disagree. It was a statement, not a question.
Brenna looked at Dean, "If he wasn't pissed before, he is now." She looked melancholic, "You have probably just made this so much worse for me."
Before Bren could open the truck door, Dean grabbed her arm, "I don't care if you don't want me involved, I'm not gonna let him get to you. And don't try to talk me out of it. Your whole 'strictly professional' relationship thing with me is out the window. We slept together, in every sense of the word. Ain't no goin' back now, darlin'."
Despite her previous objections, Brenna found a small bit of relief to no longer being alone in her situation. She still had no words, so she quickly reached across the console and pulled Dean into a hug. She held on tight, pouring every feeling she had into it.
Dean was a little taken aback. It was seconds that felt like minutes before he attempted to pat her back. It reminded Brenna of a child being forced to hug an old person—awkward and forced. So, she let go and continued the task of leaving the vehicle. Dean followed her into the furniture store.
Brenna hadn't been looking forward to shopping for furniture. She was never very fond of shopping at all. But shopping with Dean was way more entertaining than she could have imagined. He had a quip for everything. He'd insisted on personally trying out every piece of furniture in the store. As much as she should have been annoyed that he was wasting so much time, it had been fun. They'd both located every item they needed except mattresses—those were last.
Brenna was glad to get in on the testing for that particular piece of furniture. She refused to live with an uncomfortable mattress. They had laid on every single one, finally stopping to lay on the last one and talk about which one was the best.
"I like this one," Brenna was quite comfy on the memory foam that was supposed to stay cooler at all times.
Dean smirked rolling over next to Bren. "We should see how it would feel rolling around on this puppy." He pulled Brenna into him, "Just in case I decide to stay over.
Brenna laughed and smacked his chest. "You've got your own place here now, why you crashing at mine?"
Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he rolled and pulled Bren with him. "You know you can't get enough of me."
They both laughed as a store associate walked by, clearing their throat at the suggestive behavior. Brenna took that as her cue to roll off of the bed walk toward the counter to pay for her purchases and set-up delivery. Unfortunately for Brenna, but fortunately for Dean, their purchases could not be delivered to their respective homes until the following day.
"You know, if you hadn't insisted on lounging on every, single thing in there, we would have been done sooner and I may have gotten my insanely comfortable bed this evening. Now, I'm stuck with another night on the mattress," Brenna cocked her eyebrow as they pulled the truck into Roman's driveway.
Dean smirked at her, "I'll just keep you company again. I know how to take your mind off of the lumpy mattress," he stated suggestively.
"At least I got everything else I needed," she said staring at the unbelievably full truck bed that housed bags upon bags of stuff for her house and food. "If you help me carry all this stuff inside, I'll cook dinner for you?" She tried giving him her best sweet face.
"Better get desert too," he stated grabbing an armful of stuff.
Brenna smiled and followed suit. Together it only took four trips to get everything inside…mostly because Dean was a beast and muscled way more than any human should on each trip. All of the items for the house had been unceremoniously dumped in the living room, she couldn't do shit with them until the following day anyway.
The groceries had been placed on the kitchen island. She wouldn't be home much, so she didn't buy much, but she had the makings for lasagna and set about making the dish as Dean left to return the keys to Roman.
After she got the lasagna in the oven and tidied up, Brenna whipped up some brownies before setting them to cook in the second part of her double oven. Brenna assumed Dean had been catching up with the guys for a while because he came back in when the food was cooling on the stove and Brenna was cutting the brownies.
Dean leaned the island and watched as she floated around the kitchen—she was in the zone. It was as though this was her own little world. Dean was pulled from his musings when she plated the lasagna and set his in front of him with a bottle of water. "It's kind of awkward eating here with nowhere to sit. Sorry," She stated while jumping up onto the counter with her plate in hand.
Dean settled with waist leaning back against the counter beside her. He took one bite of the food and swore she missed her calling as a chef. He moaned and closed his eyes. "Damn it, woman." He opened his eyes and stared at her, "Where did you learn to cook like this."
Brenna grinned, "I'm a southern woman. I better know how to cook."
Dean nodded, "When we leave Tampa the day after tomorrow, WWE got us a new bus. You might need to cook every night to help with our wellness."
Brenna chuckled, "I will, but not because of that lame ass excuse. I really like cooking. If I hadn't wanted to be a doctor so badly, I would have been a chef."
Dean had three helpings before he spied the brownies on the stove. Brenna laughed when he put 5 on a plate and dug into it. She grabbed one as well and ate it before placing their used plates and utensils in the trash.
Brenna took her spot back on the counter. "Thanks for your help today, Dean," she said softly, placing her hand on his shoulder.
Dean felt the electricity from the contact. He turned his body to settle between her legs as she sat on the counter. His hands settled on her hips. He didn't move any farther, trying to gage if she wanted him as bad as he wanted her.
Brenna bit her lip when she saw her lust mirrored in his stare. She knew it was a bad idea, but she wanted him too badly to care. Her hormones won the battle over her head. She moved one had to the back of his head, pushing her fingers into his hair. That was her leverage to pull his face to hers. It wasn't long before they had melted into one another, tongues battling for dominance. The only pulled apart for moments here and there to pull off another article of clothing.
When they'd both shed ever article, Dean pushed Brenna to lay back over the breakfast bar. He let his hands roam her body, caressing all of her most private areas, before he leaned in and placed a kiss on her inner thigh. Brenna gasped at the contact. She knew he knew what he was doing. He's pulled her most body-convulsing orgasm out of her once before with his mouth.
Dean wasted no time in nipping her bud and sucking it into his mouth. Brenna was writhing against the marble countertop. Dean was doing things with his tongue that Brenna had never guessed could be done, and it wasn't long before she screamed his name as she came, gripping his hair in one hand and the edge of the bar in the other.
She ran her hand gingerly through the hair she had been gripping once she came down from her high. Dean smirked up at her as she slowly sat up. He wasn't expecting her to hop down off the counter and push him back against the counter top. She kissed his with a ferocity in her eyes that he'd never seen from her. She kissed down his jaw, nipping the flesh beneath his ear…he shuddered. She kissed down his chest, biting his nipple before licking the flesh. She kissed back up to his shoulder, looking into his eyes as her hand gripped his shaft. Dean had never gasped at intimate contact before, it was his second nature. But when Brenna looked at him with lust0filled, half-lidded eyes and stroked his dick with mild force, that's exactly what he did.
Dean ran a hand through her dark brown hair as she kneeled before him, but had to pull it away to grip the countertop when she not-so-gently began sucking him into her mouth. She wasn't a tease for sure. When she went for the gold, she went all-in, and Dean was fully enjoying her approach until he felt too close to the edge to let her continue.
Dean grasped her by the shoulders pulling her to her feet fast before spinning her around and bending her over the counter. He pushed one of her knees to rest beside her, opening her up to him. Dean rubbed his dick along her slit. "Fuck, you're so wet, Bren."
Brenna didn't reply, she simply pushed her hips backwards, engulfing the tip of him in her tight body. Dean groaned. He knew she was tight, but he swore she was tighter than last time. He had to pause after pushing himself all the way into her pussy. If he moved too quickly, he would come too soon. Brenna was ready to explode. She moaned loudly and cursed as he began to move, "Fuck, Dean!"
That was all the encouragement Dean needed to pick up his pace and begin fucking her. It was mere minutes before they both were teetering on the edge of bliss. Brenna's hips were moving back to meet his with every thrust. When Brenna sat up, one leg still propped on the counter, so that her back was against his chest, Dean took the opportunity to suck the skin beneath her ear. Brenna was ready to come undone as she laid her head against his shoulder. She turned her head slightly and whispered in his ear, "Come for me, Dean." And they did, simultaneously.
Dean leaned against Brenna's back as they waited to regain their strength and wits. If dean would have tried to move any farther, he feared his legs would give out beneath him.
After minutes that felt like hours Brenna turned around, giving Dean a soft, but passionate kiss before she pulled his shirt over her head and walked toward the mattress.
Dean took a moment to regain his bearings before pulling on his boxer briefs and climbing onto the mattress next to her. He didn't try to overthink anything. He simply pulled her body back into his and they settled in for a deep sleep.