When I turn around, Dean's right in front of me, holding up the towel. "And this?"
"You can just leave it anywhere," I say, sounding breathless.
It's a narrow kitchen and I'm backed against the counter with Dean mere inches away. If I wasn't scared to death to do it, I'd pull him down to me and kiss him. Just to see what it's like. I only kissed two guys before Chad and they were young and inexperienced. So was I. Then I met Chad and he was just as bad. Together we learned how to kiss but I always wondered what it'd be like to kiss someone who has enough experience to actually know what they're doing. If anyone has experience, it's Dean.
Chapter Nineteen
Brook
Dean's standing in front of me, still holding the towel, his eyes locked on mine. My heart's beating out of my chest as my head tries to figure why he hasn't moved, and why he hasn't set down the towel.
Finally, he reaches behind me, dropping the towel by the sink. I hold his gaze, breathing so hard I can hear each breath. His hand wraps around the side of my face and that's when I realize this is really happening. He's going to kiss me.
I close my eyes as his lips press against mine. I softly moan, then stiffen up, embarrassed because I didn't mean to do that. Dean either didn't notice or doesn't care as he continues to kiss me in a slow sensual way that has me practically shaking.
I reach up and grab his shirt because I feel like my legs are about to give out. Dean steps closer, his arm going around my waist, supporting me as I relax into his hold. I let go of his shirt and rest my hand on his chest. It's hard. Solid muscle.
My lips part and his tongue slides over mine, making me moan again. I didn't mean to, it just happened. I feel like I've lost all control of my body. It's reacting to a type of pleasure it's never known before, filled with sensations that are almost more than I can handle. I feel like I'm at the top of the rollercoaster again but one that's even higher. And it just keeps going, higher and higher.
Or maybe I'm the one going higher. Suddenly I'm in the air as Dean picks me up and sets me on the counter. Our eyes lock for just a second before his mouth is back on mine. His kisses are faster now and I grab the back of his neck, wanting more. Wanting to make sure he doesn't stop.
My legs are spread and I feel Dean's muscular body between them as he stands flush with the counter. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe he’s kissing me. I wanted to know what it'd be like to kiss him but I didn’t think it’d actually happen. Turns out, it's even better than I imagined.
Dean's hand drops to my thigh and my heart takes off again, waiting to see what he'll do next. His hand is huge and covers most of my leg, his fingers extending just below the ripped hem of my cutoffs. He slows his kisses to the pace he started with as his hand slides up my thigh, his fingers slipping under my shorts. He shoves my panties aside and rubs his fingers over my slick center, back and forth, over and over, driving me wild.
I break from the kiss to take a breath, then pull him back to me and kiss him, hard, as I lift my hips and lean back a little on the counter. I feel his mouth smile just slightly, before taking over the kiss, slowing it down as he slips a finger inside me. When he slips another in me, I gasp, breaking from his lips. He captures my mouth with another kiss, his fingers plunging deeper inside me, pumping in and out. His fingers are long and thick and almost feel like something else. Something of his I want, but probably shouldn't take since I'm not even dating him, and technically still have a boyfriend.
My body doesn't care about that. It wants more, even though it can barely handle what it's getting now. If what he's doing now feels this good, what would it feel like to have all of him? Imagining that shoots me over the top, pleasure bursting through my body, cascading down to my toes.
I fall back, hitting my head on the cabinet.
"You okay?" I hear Dean say as his hand gently cups the back of my head.
"I'm fine," I say, smiling at him, feeling like I'm drunk.
"Want me to help you down?"
"I'm not sure I can stand right now."
He chuckles. "Wrap your legs around me."
When I do, he picks me up off the counter and carries me to the couch, setting me down.
"I should probably get going," he says.
"Now? Are you sure?" I look down at his jeans and see them straining against his crotch.
"I should do some stuff at home. While Jake's gone. It's not very often I get the house to myself."
"What stuff do you have to do?" I glance down at his jeans. "Take a cold shower?"
He smiles. "Something like that."
I rise up from the couch and stand in front of him, holding onto his shirt because I still feel wobbly. "I could help you with that."
He shakes his head. "That's not why I came here."
"I know. And I'm not saying we'd have sex. But I could at least return the favor." I put my hand over the bulge in his jeans, noticing the thickness, slowly moving my hand down the length of it.
