His Secret, Her Mistake

Chapter Seven

'The Taste'

His lips land on hers, soft at first, but she doesn't stop him. The voice of guilt that was living rent free in her brain, had moved out. When he realises she's kissing him back, the soft kiss turns hard. Desperate. Wanting. Needing.

Their lips grasp at each other, as though they both have the last remaining oxygen on the Earth. It gets faster, harder, filled with desire and passion. His large hands grasp the back of her neck as he pulls her even further into the kiss, she nearly moans into his mouth, their tongues dancing with each other.

He pulls away, gently biting her lip as he does. Her knees now weak, vision blurred and makeup smudged. Struggling to catch her breath, she looks up at him, his eyes are heavy with want. Want of her.

"Well..." She tries to say something but her mind has wandered off, along with the thought of her marriage.

"Fuck, Nica. I didn't think an innocent woman like you would kiss like that." Dean rubs his jaw, contemplating ripping her clothes off in the street.

"I'm not innocent." Veronica retorts, looking up at him through her lashes. Her blue eyes now darker, also with desire.

The sexual tension lingers as they look at each other for what feels like a century. Not moving. Not speaking.

At this point, she didn't know what she going to do until her phone buzzed, bringing her back into a sense of reality. John text.

"I have to go." She stumbles her words out, stepping back trying to put some space between their dangerously close bodies. She can feel him against her leg, hard and ready.

"Nica..." Dean tries to persuade her with a smile, but she turns instantly walking away.

He rushes after her, refusing to not finish what he started. He had to.

"Let's get a hotel room." He tries to whisper in her ear but she's nearly jogging at this point.

"I can't! I shouldn't have kissed you. I don't know what got over me but I have to stop seeing you! This is it Dean." Her tone is sharp, but her eyes are pleading at him, as if they were saying their own language. Stop me, she thought. Cursing herself for even thinking that, she tried to walk faster.

In one quick swoop, he lifts her over his shoulder as though she weighed nothing at all.

"Dean! Put me down!" Veronica tries to wiggle free, but his strength meant she was fighting a losing battle.

"Do you really want me to?" He asks, his hand firmly cupping her ass as he holds her.

She pauses for a second. Hesitating.

"Yes." She doesn't sound convincing, but he listens, gently placing her feet back on solid ground.

"Fuck!" Veronica exclaims, wiping her smudged lipstick onto her hand.

"What do I tell John?" She turns to Dean, as if he could help her.

"We're getting a divorce, I'm moving out, I hate you..." He jokes, teasing, even though she is not in the mood to be teased.

"I'm serious. Fuck off Dean. I don't want to see your fucking face again!" She yells, passers-by on the street turning to watch, before storming off.

"John." Dean grumbles under his breath. He's so pissed off at that man always ruining what could be, and getting in the way. He deserved Veronica. Not John. What good was John anyway if one kiss from him could sway her that much? She needed a man, she needed Dean. 

"I've been called into work baby." Veronica lies through the phone to John, kicking herself for taking one step forward and then a thousand back. At this point, she wasn't sure if divorce was off the table. How could she be running around like a tart, with another man, while married? John changed for me though, she thinks to herself. Getting more and more wound up. 

She wanted John to become the husband she dreamt of. She pleaded him, she fought with him for years trying to get to the point they've just reached. It took another man for the final push to get him there. And now he's there, so is Dean. Always seemingly around the next corner. Was it karma? Or was it what she wanted?

Grabbing fistfuls of her hair, she drops onto a bench, staring down at her feet. What the hell was she supposed to do now? She can't go home, she doesn't actually have work, and she cannot, repeat, cannot go back to Dean. Who is probably lurking behind a tree waiting for her again.

As if she already knew, she lifts her head looking across the street, at a watchful Dean. Of course he wouldn't actually listen and go away.

"Dean?" Veronica yells over the street. Tears welling in her eyes as he saunters over, looking as casual as ever. As if that kiss didn't just move the Earth, Sun and Moon.

"You're a confusing lady." He says calmly, perching down next to her, lighting a cigarette.

"Can I have one?" She sighs, leaning back, hand extended waiting for the offer.

"Sure..." He looks at her quizzically. 

"I didn't peg you for a smoker." He watches her light up, it was weirdly attractive on her.

"I'm not. Well, I quit before John, so I technically was." She explains, still looking down, swirling the smoke in her mouth as if it was the medicine to her issues.

Dean's anger grew as he watched her. She was so small, sad and strong. He knew she wanted him, not John. But she wasn't brave enough to end it.

"Why not leave him?" Dean asks, stubbing his cig on the ground.

"It's not like we don't love each other. We just got to the point where it felt like a happy marriage." She truthfully vents, despite Dean being the last person she should speak to about this.

The word 'love' infuriated Dean more. He doesn't want to think of her loving another man, or being with one that isn't him. 

John had to go...