Andrea Sanders, legendary hunter, is the kind of legend that only the brave and stupid dare to whisper about at night. After ditching the foster system at sixteen, she follows her father's footsteps into the only life she's ever known: hunting down...
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I woke up slowly the next morning, unsure as to why I felt so sore. Laying there a moment, it all suddenly came back in a flash and I sat up hastily, blankets and something heavier falling off of me before I realized I was naked as a newborn. Eyes wide, I gathered the blankets up to my chin, heart racing as I took in everything that had happened the night before.
Had Dean and I really—?
I glanced to my left and squeaked. The previously sleeping Dean suddenly scrunched his face into a frown at my noise. His broad shoulders were bare—save for the bright red scratches I seemed to have left on them—as he slept on his stomach, one arm outstretched toward me. Light streamed in through the cream colored curtains, brightening the room that was covered in clothing and weapons. My cheeks flushed red as memories of the night before flashed through my head.
Wow. Wow. Wow.
And I thought Lincoln was good.
Suddenly, Dean's outstretched arm began patting the blankets until it found my waist. "There you are." He mumbled into the pillow, eyes still shut. Gripping me tightly, I was suddenly yanked to him with another squeak. His arm encircled me and he burrowed his head into the crook of my neck with the scruff scratching me in a way that was by no means uncomfortable. "Mmm." He mumbled with a smile against my neck. "You smell like sex."
A laugh bubbled out of me. "Oh, shut up, Sparky, no one asked you." I ran my fingers through his hair with a shake of my head.
"Keep doing that and I might just keep you." He told me, kissing my neck and earning himself a thump on the back of his head. "Ow! Hey!"
Laughing, I kissed his forehead again. "What do you mean, 'might keep me', Winchester? You and Sam couldn't make it a week without me. It's a wonder you've lasted this long." He chuckled at my dramatics. "Nah. The way I see it, you're stuck with me."
Dean opened his green eyes, pulling back enough to look me in mine. "God, I hope so." The sincerity threw me for a loop. Blinking down at him, I couldn't help but smile at his words.
I didn't have any of my own that felt up for the task, so I just dropped a quick kiss on his pink lips. At least, I thought it was a quick kiss. Instead, he followed me as I went to pull away, not letting me break contact until my head was on the pillow and he was hovering over me, propping himself up by his arms. "Hi there." I said softly, rubbing a hand up and down his forearm in a lazy way as we held eye contact. There was no way I could deny all of the feelings swirling inside me anymore, but that doesn't mean I couldn't bottle them up and throw them away. Feelings weren't meant to be felt.
Right?
"Hi there, Mrs. Slade." He dropped his head down to kiss me again before pulling away slowly. "Did you know you look absolutely stunning with my marks all over you?" My eyes widened as I quickly covered my neck with a hand in embarrassment. "Come on, Bubbles!" He leaned down to trail kisses down my neck until I was forced to reveal the hickey and he could return to it. "Let a man admire his work." His words vibrated against my skin, causing yet another sound to fall out of me that I had never known I could produce. His voice became a growl. "Oh, don't I just love those little noises you make." I shivered beneath his touch as he began to find each and every mark he had already made, peppering my skin with a feather light touch that contradicted all of his actions from the previous night. He kept getting lower and lower until I yanked the covers up to my chin. "Hey, now." Dean pulled back in surprise, eyeing me curiously. "What did I do?"
