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Dean didn’t have to look up at him to know. Kimberly was wildfire between them.
“Fuck, man. I’m ready to beg at this point.” Sam had her hips in his big hands and pulled her into his furious pounding.
Yeah, Dean thought,Sam isn’t going to last much longer. Then Kimberly swallowed around his cock again, and he realized he wasn’t going to either. Aw, shit was right. Dean fumbled blindly for the showerhead Sam had dropped when they hit the floor. No way were they going over without her. With his focus divided on snagging the hose and her, Kimberly managed to wrest control again and wrapped her fingers around his shaft while her mouth did something to the head that had him seeing stars.
“Dean! Hurry up, man,” Sam grit out, and Dean pulled the hose close enough to grab the nozzle.
This time when the water hit her between the legs, there was no fighting it or holding back. Kimberly flew apart and screamed her orgasm around his cock. Dean felt his own climax like a tremor that turned into an earthquake and cracked open his soul. His shaft emptied into her mouth in jets that burst like gunfire, and she just kept lapping and sucking as Sam lost his mind in his own climax. His hard thrusts eventually, slowly eased, and as they did, so too did she.
Finally spent, Kimberly wilted to her rump and flopped back against Sam like a drowning victim. Dean looked at his partner and closest friend and thought he didn’t look to be in much better shape.
“What do you guys say to a couple of hours sleep, then we’ll have breakfast and plan where to go from there?”
Sam agreed wholeheartedly.
Kimberly just kinda snored a little, as if she was fine with just sleeping right where they lay. He and Sam shared a look over her drowsy head, and the tenderness he felt in that moment was something he didn’t have anything to equate it to. All he knew was that the two people who mattered most in the world to him were right there, and if they didn’t screw this up, they might just have the kind of magic here they only wrote about in fairy tales.
Dean paused a moment to consider what they’d just been doing and amended—adult fairy tales. Then they all got out, dried off, and piled into Dean’s—his was the biggest—bed. Kimberly was out before he turned off the light.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
When Kimberly awokefour hours later, she was alone in bed with Dean. She was lying on her side with her head buried in a pillow as soft as her dreams had been, and she cracked open one eye reluctantly. “Where’s Sam?” God, her voice sounded like she’d starred in an episode ofScream Queens.
Dean was on his side facing her, with his head resting on his bent elbow and his other hand lifting locks of her hair and letting it catch in the light.
“He got up about ten minutes ago,” Dean told her, his voice gruff too. It warmed her insides and curled her toes to hear it. “He’s probably in the kitchen by now. Sammy loves to cook.”
Kimberly smiled a little and nuzzled deeper into her pillow. “What about you?” She wanted to know. “Do you like to cook too?’
“I’m better at ordering takeout,” he admitted with a grimace, “but I can grill a mean steak and throw together a decent pot of chili in a pinch. I could do better, I know, but then again, why would I, when I got a Gordon Ramsey wannabe for a roommate?” Her slow, sleepy laugh earned her his pirate grin and made more of that warmth flow.
“I really like him.” Expression somber now, she gazed at Dean from her cloud of a pillow and her mass of exploding curls. “I really like you both. More than I should, more than is smart, and I don’t know what to do with these feelings.” Emotions swirled in her heart and leaked out of her eyes. “I know you said to compartmentalize. But how am I supposed to lock this away and keep it in only one small place in my head, when it’s filling up my whole heart? Dean, how do you do it? I don’t know if I—”
His lips cut off her words, and his kiss was all the reassurance she needed.
“When I talked about compartmentalizing things, I meant for you to find a way to put the case away. Not this. Not us.” He scooted closer, pulled her tight to his body, and stared into her face. “I’m afraid you’re not being honest with me right now though, Kimberly, and though it crosses boundaries I’m honor-bound to withhold, you obliterated those when you kissed me in my office. So out with it. I need your truth now. No evading; no hiding behind pretty euphemisms.”
She looked up at him, worried. “Okay, Dean. Sure, what am I not being honest about? What’d I miss?”
“Well, you lied to me.”
Kimberly frowned and gasped as if he just belched in her face. “I did not,” she insisted. “I wouldn’t ever do that to you.”
“You did,” Dean told her but softened it by kissing between her brows. “You’re lying to yourself as well.”
The corner of her mouth trembled as she fought being charmed by him and lost. “Is that right?” She wanted to know. “And what am I such a big liar about?”
“You lied when you said you liked me. You don’t like me, Kimberly.”
She lowered her lashes and tried to play it coy. “You’re right,” she said, deadpan. “I got that twisted. I really can’t stand you, is what I meant to say. In fact, now that you mention it, I find you utterly repellant.” She kissed his smiling mouth and scraped her nails lightly along his scalp. “Nope,” she told him with a sigh as she drew back, “don’t like you at all, actually.” The tenderness in his expression had her heart flopping around in her chest.
“Wanna know why I think you’re lying to me?” he asked, and she dared a peek at him through her lashes, holding her breath. He pushed up to brace on one arm, rolled her to her back with a hand on her shoulder, then brushed the hair from her face. “I’m hoping you’re lying to me, Kimberly, because I’m in love with you, and if you only liked me, well, that would… how would you say it? Suck?”
Kimberly couldn’t breathe as she let his words replay on a loop in her head. She lay there and remembered sweat-drenched nights full of dark fantasies, and sun-drenched afternoons full of sappy daydreams all starring the love of this man. Emotions threatened to choke her, and her chin trembled as she tried to hold back the flood that filled her.
The reality of this man’s love made her realize she had an extremely deficient imagination. Kimberly’s arms wrapped around his neck, and she pulled herself up to mesh her lips with his. Their tongues tangled as he pressed her back into the pillows with his body. When he slowly, softly, pulled back from the kiss, she stared up at him in dazed wonder. This fallen angel loved her.
Not just smart, he had a frickin’ PhD. Not just brave, he carried a badge for the FBI. Not just kind, but he was capable and generous with a gentleness that she had never encountered in a partner before. As for the sex? Never in her life had she experienced the highs this man—these men—had brought her.
