Some Things Can't Be Undone--1/3 (complete)--SPN fic
Title:Some things Can't be Undone
Author:borgmama1of5
Summary: The story of Dean and Cassie that Sam never learned.
Wordcount: 15,900
Genre/pairing: Het--Dean/Cassie
Spoilers: None
Rating: R
Beta: sandymg who made this so much better with her contributions
Art: The two amazing banners graciously made by apieceofcake
Disclaimer: Playing in the Supernatural sandbox, not mine, no profit. Just love.
A/N: This was posted about a year ago on ff.net, but the fantastic banner made by apieceofcake made me want to share it again.
Some Things Can’t Be Undone
Yeah, Dean missed having Sam around to share the research.
But sometimes there were perks to being in the library by himself. Like today. 'Cause when the library was full of geek boys, Dean knew he was particularly noticeable. And the two girls over behind the reference counter were so checking him out.
Take that, Sam! he thought as he strolled over with a smirk.
“Hello ladies, I was wonderin’ if you could help me?”
“Sure,” one of them giggled. Bright blue eyes danced over him. Right. Perks.
Exactly two minutes to one Cassie pushed through the revolving door. Working part-time in the university library was ideal. Mid-semester was low-key as far as students needing a lot of assistance and during the down time she could work on her own research. She noted the handful of people sitting at the library tables and mentally rolled her eyes when she saw that Rowan was flirting with the student at the counter, but then she looked at the guy.
The first thing she registered was his physical grace. He inhabited every inch of his six-foot frame with confidence. Not like a jock, in an overpowering way, more feline. The second thing he exuded was awareness. Even slouched over the counter it seemed like he knew everything going on around him. She couldn't put her finger on what exactly made her think that, but she just knew no one ever snuck up on him. And okay, he had a cute butt. Not that he was wearing particularly tight jeans to accentuate it, but its muscular roundness was still noticeable.
He gestured at something, and Anne, standing slightly behind Rowan at the desk, blushed. It wouldn’t take much to make Anne turn pink, but Cassie almost stopped walking at the off-handed elegance of the fluid motion. His silver ring reflected the light, subtly masculine on his long, slender fingers.
He chuckled, a low, earthy sound, and turned his head toward at her as she approached. She forced herself to look head on into his green (okay, amazing green) eyes. She was pretty sure he was used to women swooning when he turned that heated look on them, but she wasn’t all women and she'd be damned if she was going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her visceral reaction
“Oh, Cassie, we were just going to take Dean here up to the historical texts section.”
Pathetic. They were already under the pretty boy’s spell. “Did you see his student I.D.?”
Rowan’s eyebrows shot up like Cassie had to be joking. Cassie didn’t give an inch.
“Well? You know the rules.”
He didn’t even pretend to look for it, and there was not a shred of embarrassment at being called out.
“ ’Fraid I don’t have it with me … Couldn’t I take a quick look, seein’s how I’m already here?”
He quirked his lips into a charming how-could-it-hurt-to-bend-the-rules-just-this-once half-grin. So he was cute … okay, hot … but he was not God’s gift to women no matter what he and probably most of the female population thought. And it was about time someone taught him that.
“Sorry, but without an I.D. you can’t go in that section.”
“Don’t suppose ‘pretty please’ would change your mind?” Damned if he wasn’t laughing at her refusing to fawn over him!
“Rules are rules, sorry.” She glared steadily at him. Over his shoulder Rowan shot her a disappointed look but she ignored her. Anne was looking down, biting her lower lip.
“Well, then, I guess I’ll come back tomorrow with my I.D. What time will you be here?”
“I’m always here in the afternoon,” she answered without thinking. Damn him.
“See ya tomorrow, then.” And he sauntered to the exit.
She faced her too-easily-influenced library mates. “You know the rules as well as I do, ladies. And they don’t get bent just because someone’s cute.”
Rowan fake-whispered as she poked Anne. “Hey, at least she acknowledged he was cute.”
Anne giggled, hand covering her mouth. “He was. Really cute.” And she blushed again.
Cassie deliberately ignored them and forced the good-looking stranger out of her mind as she moved behind the counter and started her afternoon’s paperwork.
The next day, Dean made a point of being at the Alden Library mid-morning. He had no trouble cajoling Anne and Rowan to let him into the restricted section, and he planned to be gone long before miss-stick-up-her-ass showed up.
Athens, Ohio, was considered one of the ten most haunted cities in the US, according to the American Paranormal Society. Which was of no particular credibility at all. Except that John Winchester had come across something, somewhere, that spoke of a pentagram formed by five cemeteries within the city limits, the rumored center of which was on the Ohio University campus. And the disturbing fact that, spread out over a hundred-fifteen-year period, there had been series of deaths clustered around one group of buildings.
Dean wondered when his father had time to figure out a pattern spread out that long - for that matter, what had made him even think to look for one so complicated? And of course, Dad was being closemouthed about what he thought it was. Dean’s job was to determine which graveyards of the one-hundred-plus in the city would correlate to the pattern.
Tedious, yes. Dad had given him two starting cemeteries as most likely part of the design. Now Dean was cross-checking locations to find the other three points of the symbol. Most of what he was doing was playing with coordinates, and the university library had a three by five scale map of the city layout in 1874 that he was using for his attempts to make different cemeteries line up.
Yet the repetition of the task was actually soothing. Check the next cemetery’s location, line up his rulers, see where the other points fell, look for a burial ground around them, repeat. Dean was the only occupant of the second floor history room, and he hadn’t heard any sounds to indicate there was anyone else on this floor at all. He fell into a rhythm that he didn’t break until he heard the sound of high heels coming up the stairs. Shit, he’d been at this for over three hours. He straightened his back, stretched until his spine cracked.
“I need to see your I.D.”
Well, she certainly got to the point. Dean surveyed his nemesis through half-lidded eyes, smirking because he knew it would piss her off.
“Ya know, I still haven’t found it.”
“This section of the library is off-limits to anyone who’s not an Ohio U student or who doesn’t have written authorization from a faculty department head. And I doubt you have that, either.”
Shame such a good-looking babe was such a bitch … “Look, sister, I promise I’m not hurting anything. Just doing some research that requires a historically accurate map, which is this one right here.”
“Are you going to leave or do I have to call security?”
Dean had no doubt she would. Damn, he couldn’t recall ever running into such a hard-nosed protector of the library books before. At least not one under sixty, he amended. He just wanted to get this research over with. He wondered, with a pang, if Sammy’s puppy-dog eyes would work on her … But Sam wasn’t here, he was probably in the library at Stanford right now. So, time for another charm offensive.
He began to gather his notes and rulers from the glass-topped map table, all the while keeping his eyes on her. “It’s Cassie, right? I’m Dean, by the way.”
She said nothing, just kept watching him, her lips pursed tightly.
“So, from the way you take guarding these old books so personally, I’m guessing you’re what, a history major?”
He actually surprised an answer out of her. “No, journalism. Not that it’s any of your business,” she added.
“So what makes it so important that nobody disturb these books without a proper license? My dad taught me that libraries are fundamental to a free society, you know, so that anyone can look up information. You know, the public’s right to know. Free speech. All that good stuff. As a journalism major, I think you’d be on that side.” Dean didn’t expect to get so intense, but he didn’t like the way she was looking down her nose at him.
“These books are for the use of the students here.”
Dean had collected all his stuff, so he stepped toward the doorway Cassie was in front of. She immediately moved away.
“So,” and he really wanted to know how she would answer this, “what is the point of keeping all this,” he gestured at the shelves, “restricted to being used by just the students? Shouldn’t anybody be allowed to look at your books if they need to? Just because they can’t afford to go to your fancy college, they still might want to learn something.” Damn, he was too officially pissed to even pretend charming now.
She met his glare without flinching. “What is it you’re looking for?”
“Graveyards.” Shit, he hadn’t meant to say that. He embellished quickly. “Athens has over a hundred of ’em. I’m plotting their locations relative to each other.”
“Is this for some kind of project?”
“I, um, work for my dad. He hasn’t told me the details yet, just gave me the assignment.”
“So that’s what you’re doing with the map.”
“Yeah. He needs to know the locations of the cemeteries as they were originally, before some of the graves were relocated in the name of progress, ya know?”
“Is you father a historian?”
He smirked. “Something like that.”
She had big, dark eyes, and now that she wasn’t scowling at him, Dean thought she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen - her perfect skin was the same color as those fancy lattes Sam used to get once in a while, and if those weren’t the most kissable lips on the planet they were at least in the top ten, right next to Angelina Jolie’s. And he had the strangest desire to run his fingers through her mass of dark curls.
She continued to look at him without speaking. Dean had stopped moving toward the door. If there was ever a moment for a puppy-dog look, this was it. Channel Sammy. He tilted his chin down slightly, widened his eyes, and put just the hint of a smile on his lips.
Damn. Cassie knew she was being played, she knew it and she was going to let him get away with it. Because … he looked like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar whose mother always let him have one when she caught him. Irresistible. Besides, a little bit of her did have to agree that the general principal behind libraries was to share knowledge, not hoard it. So just this once she was going to bend the rules. And it had nothing to do with his pretty-enough-to-be-a-model face or the remarkable eyelashes above those brilliant eyes.
“How long would it take you to finish?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. Couple of days, probably.”
Why was she even considering this? Except …
“I shouldn’t be doing this.” Sigh. “Go ahead, you can stay.”
The grin he gave her was impossibly smug … and adorable. “Better be careful, once you start breaking rules it can become a habit. And … thanks.”
Cassie worked very hard at not thinking about the non-student in the restricted section during her shift, with mixed success. Since Anne was working as well, Cassie started her research for her “Journalism Ethics” paper. She had finally gotten absorbed in the article about Daniel Ellsworth when footsteps approaching the checkout counter disturbed her. She looked up and there he was.
“I’m gonna call it a day. Wanted to say thanks again for bending the rules.” There was a twinkle in his eyes as he said this. “You back here tomorrow?”
She did not think about the impulse that had her push back her chair and walk over to him.
“Yes, I’m here every afternoon.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Cassie.” His gaze lingered on her an extra minute, before he turned toward the exit. As he went through the door she realized that now he was making no noise on the marble floor.
After two more afternoons staring at that damn map, Dean was no closer to having an answer for his father or to getting Cassie to smile at him. Losing his touch. Friday night in a college town, she probably already had a date. Or maybe not … as beautiful as she was, she definitely gave off the vibe of ‘serious about school,’ so she was probably gonna go home and hit the books. Good match for Sam … After six, make that seven not that he kept track months, he should be over missing his brother by now. It was probably being stuck in this damn college library all week that made the little ache when his mind accidentally thought of him. Sam was good, Sam was safe, Sam was living normal.
The library closed early on Fridays, at six instead of ten, and he wasn’t gonna make a spectacular breakthrough any more tonight. Might as well pack it in. He arched his shoulders back to stretch out the tension, threw everything in the backpack, and clattered down the stairs. Always liked to give the girl warning he was coming. Didn’t think she was the kind who liked surprises.
The main floor had about a dozen students lounging at the tables, which was unusual. Probably starting term paper time. After a cursory glance, he walked over to where Cassie was checking out a pile of books for a girl wearing a red tee-shirt and a denim miniskirt. Nice legs. One of the other student workers - couldn’t remember her name -- was doing the same for a skinny guy with long greasy hair.
Dean leaned against the smooth countertop, relaxed, waiting for Cassie to finish.
The strangled grunt, scrape of chair legs, and immediate thud broke the respectable quiet. Dean’s head whipped around to identify the threat. There. A body was lying on the floor next to one of the tables in the middle of the reading area. He could see it thrashing, there was a repetitive banging of limbs hitting the chair.
As the rest of the room had their frozen moment, Dean stepped over, already assessing what was going on. Kneeling down beside the young man who, eyes shut, was stiffly vibrating, Dean went through and discarded a dozen possibilities. He’d seen something like this before … a seizure, an epileptic fit. A girl he and Dad had rescued from a rawhead, she’d collapsed like this afterward and they’d taken care of her till she came out of it.
Dean pushed the chair away, kid was gonna have bruises enough from hitting the hard floor. Must have just slid out of his seat. Not restraining the jerking limbs, Dean slid out of his denim jacket and folded it into a pillow to put under the guy’s head. What else? Just loosen the clothing around the neck, then wait till he comes out of it.
By now there was a circle of bystanders, all watching him. Useless civilians … “Somebody call 911?”
A flurry of movement as several cell phones popped open, then they all looked at each other to see who was going to make the call. As everyone stopped, Cassie spoke out. “Already on the way.”
Dean nodded ‘good girl’ in her direction and then focused back on the student who had stopped flailing and was attempting to sit up.
“Easy there. Just roll on your side a minute.” Dean put a hand on the guy’s shoulder to help him shift. “You’re in the library. I think you maybe had a seizure. Ever happen before?”
“Uh, yeah, I, uh …”
“Don’t try to talk, paramedics are on their way. Just relax, I’m stayin’ with you.”
The kid was probably the same age as Sam, couldn’t have been any older with that baby-smooth chin. He mumbled something but stayed still.
The ambulance was there in moments, and the crowd dispersed as the emergency workers took over. Dean quickly told them what he’d seen and done, then backed away to let them do their job. He found himself standing next to Cassie.
“You knew what to do.”
“Seen it before. And you were fast with the call for help.”
“Done it before.” And she finally smiled. It transformed her face from beautiful but stern into totally alive. Dean was transfixed at the change. Like the real person had been hiding behind a mask.
“What time do you blow this place?” His words came out without thought.
“Twenty minutes.” Dean could see the moment she decided to dare fraternizing with the enemy.
“We could grab a bite to eat after I lock up.”
“I’ll wait right here.”
***
Cassie leaned against the closed door. Get a grip, girl, she told herself. Her skin was tingling and they hadn’t even touched, let alone shared a good night kiss. God help her when they did. No, he’d walked her to the dorms and they’d stood almost touching and when he’d bent his head down she’d been sure he was going to do it - but he’d stopped and said instead, “I’d like to see you again.” And she’d fallen into the depths of those eyes and nodded and finally managed, “I’d like that, too.”
He’d smiled at this - why did she think it was a victory smile? - and said, “Tomorrow afternoon?” and she’d nodded, and he held open the lobby door for her before silently leaving.
Cassie couldn’t decide which to do first, give herself a stern talking-to or collapse and try to figure out why this guy was giving her reckless ideas. It wasn’t like she was an innocent … It was time to remember why emotional attachments were a bad idea. She couldn’t let herself get sucked in. She needed to remember her mom’s advice:
“Don’t give all your passion to a man, Cassie. It doesn’t work. Keep it for yourself, for what you want to do with your life.”
Yes, she needed to make a sign with those words to read every day. Even if he did make her dizzy.
***
“What have you found out?”
Dean ran his hand through his hair the next morning. As always, the motel wall had a myriad of bits of paper taped to it, and it was time for Dean to contribute. Dad was not gonna like how long this was taking. There were just too many damn cemeteries. Dean pulled out his notes.
“If we start with Simms and Hanning, like you said, I’ve narrowed it down to two possible configurations. Could be these three to finish the pentagram,” he pointed, “or these.”
“Both sets make Wilson Hall the center?”
“Yeah. The last death in that area was a suicide there in 1976 - least it was reported as a suicide - room 428. The college eventually sealed that room off because every student assigned to it afterward moved out because of ‘weird manifestations.’ ”
Surprisingly, his dad did not start laying into him for not having answers yet. “So you’ve got it narrowed down to these six. I’ve come up with some names. If we can connect any of these to your graveyards that might be all we need.”
The paper he handed Dean had about fifteen names. Two of them he recognized immediately, one, the name of a campus building, the other had come up in connection with Hanning cemetery.
“I’ve got a lead to follow up on a piece of the Simms family estate, some journals that ended up in San Antonio. Gonna take almost two days to get down there, I’m leaving in the morning. I want you to work the names angle.” John started to walk to the motel bathroom, then added, “Take a look at the dorm room. Easier for you to be on campus than me, maybe there’ll be something there.”
“Sure. Would help if I had a clue what I’m looking for, though, Dad.” Dean kept his tone light, although he was feeling more than a little irritated at his dad’s habit of parceling out facts like they were diamonds. He got a dark look despite the effort at casualness, but he wasn’t a grunt in the army, even if Dad thought so, and he answered the glower thrown at him with steady eyes.
Still, Dean was startled when, after staring at him for a moment, his dad handed Dean the leather journal containing, as far as Dean knew, every scrap of supernatural knowledge John had collected in nearly twenty years.
“The green bookmark. Everything I’ve got so far.”
***
In all honesty, Dean’d had no expectations for the afternoon. He half figured Cassie wouldn’t even be in the dorm when he gave his name to the student manning the front desk, but he covered his surprise with a blatant grin of appreciation for the short pink skirt and sleek tank top she was wearing when she came off the elevator. Well, more for the way the clothes accentuated her alluring curves and long legs.
It was one of those heady early spring days where the pleasure of not needing to layer shirts under a jacket - not needing a jacket at all, at least while the sun was out - contributed to the lazy energy that inspired their leisurely walk around the university.
“So, a journalist, huh. Like Barbara Walters?”
“Good Lord, no. Not T.V. I want to work for a newspaper. Investigative reporter. There are too many things that the average person doesn’t realize go on - corruption, fraud, crime - what really is happening around them. If it’s out in the open there’s a chance to fight it!”
“You really think people care? They really want to know the truth?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I dunno, I think most people just want to live their life and not be bothered … It’s easier to pretend everything’s okay when you don’t know stuff.”
“But without accurate information the public is handicapped. Policy gets made that only benefits those with the right connections. Or justice gets applied based on who you know, not what you actually did.”
“And libraries are only available to paying students?”
“Touché.” A quick smile flashed across her face. “I can’t really argue the point. Information should be free.”
Dean was surprised by Cassie’s sudden admission, and wasn’t expecting the subject to jump to him.
“So what kind of work do you do?”
Dean fell back on the usual generality. “I work for m’dad.”
“What does he do? You said you’re doing some historical research for him.”
“He takes on … different projects. We move around a lot …”
“Just you and your dad?”
“Yeah. M’ brother, too.” He paused. “Until last fall when he … went away to college.”
“Where does he go?”
“Stanford.” A beat. “Full ride.”
It was gratifying how Cassie looked at that. Never got to brag about his little brother, how much he’d done to get that scholarship. Behind Dad’s back. Behind his back. But had there really been any other option for Sam?
“He must be pretty smart. What about you?”
“Me?”
When he didn’t continue, Cassie elaborated. “Have you gone to college?”
“Oh, nah. Not me.”
“Why not? You seem to know your way around a library.” She laughed. “Especially the restricted section.”
“Yeah, well, I do my own thing.”
“So is most of your research historical?”
Dean tipped his head as he searched for the right words. He wanted Cassie to understand, a little, that what he and his dad did mattered. “ ‘S’not exactly that … It’s … Connecting things. Looking for patterns that other people don’t see. Like, say, local legends about a … haunted house. “ He continued, feeling like he was edging close to a fine line of what was safe to talk about.
Cassie was clearly listening to the nuances of what he was saying, so Dean kept going.
“There’s a reason … something happened originally, maybe a really long time ago, that has caused the story to be out there. It gets altered, maybe ... Probably. But legends, myths, stories about creatures … They don’t come out of nowhere.” They’re real, he wanted to add. But didn’t. Even though Dean inexplicably wanted to know if Cassie would believe him. If she’d trust he wasn’t a total nutcase.
“Ghost stories? You investigate ghost stories?”
Sigh. She didn’t exactly sound derisive. More like skeptical. “It’s complicated. A little like that, I guess you could say.”
“And somebody pays you to do that?”
Not so much, Dean thought. No, we live on credit card fraud and hustling and the occasional legit odd job …
“Mmmm.”
It occurred to Dean this was a perfect opportunity to pump Cassie about the campus stories relating to the deaths, the sealed dorm room … Except, he didn’t want to. If he couldn’t talk openly with her about what he was doing, he didn’t want to make her just another source to be played for information.
Dad would ask, he thought. Dad wouldn’t understand why Dean didn’t want to. Maybe Sam would?
Time to take control of this conversation.
“So where’d you grow up?”
“Missouri. Cape Girardeau. What about you?” So much for that gambit.
“Born in Lawrence, Kansas. But travelled all over as a kid.”
“With your dad and your brother? Your mom?”
“Mom died when I was four. A fire.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She paused. Looked down, then met his eyes. Hers glowed warm, like dark chocolate. “You must be pretty close with your brother? I always wanted to have a sibling, someone to take my folks’ attention off of me some of the time, you know?”
My dad paid more attention to the monsters he hunted than to either of us … Dean pushed distracting thoughts away and allowed his hand to lightly bump along Cassie’s. She instantly twined her fingers into his. Dean could swear the sun got a little brighter at that.
“Sammy and me did everything together, pretty much. Our dad, um, travelled a lot, for work, so it was just the two of us a lot of the time.” He stopped, caught his breath. Wasn’t used to talking about himself. He thought about what he could share. “Dad’s an ex-Marine and he taught us all the physical training.” Dean unconsciously grinned. “I used to sorta pull my punches with Sam until he hit this growth spurt around sixteen and shot up like a tree. Then he took to lording it over me that he was taller. I could still kick his ass, though. Mostly, anyway.” His smile widened at that. He’d admit a little bit of satisfaction when Sam was good enough to fight him to a draw. And once in a while come out on top. ’Cause it meant Dean’d taught him right.
The chime of a popsicle vendor’s pushcart interrupted. That was too tempting to resist, and they claimed a sun-warmed bench to savor the cold sweetness. Dean was finding it hard to fully appreciate the creamy chocolate mint he was trying to eat because he kept being distracted by the delicate stripes Cassie was licking along her green kiwi-lime popsicle. A sticky chocolate drip landed on his jeans.
The chocolate almost matched Cassie’s bare shoulder.
More tacky drips on his leg. Dean devoted the next minutes to seriously attacking what was still attached to the wooden stick. Cassie focused on hers as well, although in a more dainty fashion.
Finished, Dean flipped the licked-clean stick into the trash. Cassie repeated the gesture a moment later, and they stood up to resume walking. After a moment he slipped his hand from Cassie’s fingers to her waist, snugging her to him so their hips touched as they walked
Things progressed very differently than Dean would have predicted from his first encounter with Cassie just five days ago. The longer they continued their aimless walking, the more Cassie relaxed against him. Until they were standing in a little garden area with a small three-tiered fountain and Dean impulsively slid his hand from Cassie’s waist to the back of her head, into those luxurious black waves, and angled his head to kiss her. He half-expected to get slapped but she surprised him with only a second’s hesitation before she parted her lips.
He felt the goose bumps on her arms. And saw the little swell of her nipples through her shirt.
“Gonna get chilly when the sun goes down.”
She looked like a woman about to take a crazy dare, but only said, “We’re not far from my dorm. Let’s walk back, I can get a sweater, and then we can … eat?”
He tempted fate with one more kiss. This time she wrapped both her hands around the back of his neck and fingered the short hair there as she pressed against his body. When they finally pulled apart he murmured, “Sounds like a plan to me.”
They each had a beer with dinner, and the enthusiasm with which Cassie drank straight from the bottle was at odds with the refined image she’d projected up till now. Then she surprised him by asking if he wanted to play a game of pool when the table in the back opened up. Dean was more interested in watching Cassie lean over the table and line up her shots than in paying attention to his own playing, but the score was close enough for him to be able to say honestly, “You play a good game.”
“My dad taught me.”
“Well, then, we finally have something in common.”
“Besides thinking you’re the hottest guy on campus and you aren’t even a student?”
“Now that is the most complimentary insult I’ve ever heard,” Dean smirked, and planted another long kiss on those willing lips. Back in the parking lot, standing next to the Impala, they pressed together and mutually stroked each other’s back until their hands were meandering lower and finally Dean asked with a gasp, “D’you wanna come back with me?”
***
He thumbed a little harder and she twisted against his hand. Working around the elastic of her panties was an exhilarating challenge, one Dean was decidedly winning even as his back was pressed against the motel room door. Cassie was hungrily tasting his mouth with her tongue, her hot little moans exploding upon his lips. Her warm hands had worked under his tee-shirt, her long fingers stroking sensuously along his ribs.
Dean pulled her head even closer, fingers in her thick curls, to better explore the feel of her lush lips against the fullness of his own. She pushed frantically against him with little jerks of her hips until with an intense gasp she went rigid and her fingernails accidently stabbed hard enough for Dean to give a little grunt of his own.
When her breathing slowed to a pant and the tension of her body relaxed a little he slid his fingers out of her. Her eyes were enormous black pupils as she tilted her head away from him.
Now Cassie’s fingers moved to undo his fly and Dean involuntarily shuddered as she massaged his cock through his boxers.
“Take off your shirt,” she whispered.
He obliged then murmured in her ear, “You, too.” He reached around, unhooked her bra, cupped his hands on her firm breasts and felt the hard little buds of her nipples. She responded by pushing at the waistband of his pants.
“I think we need to get horizontal.”
She nodded without speaking and they moved over to the closest bed. Bodies still together Dean snagged the spread and sheet with one hand and tugged them down. Kicking off his boots while continuing to keep Cassie pressed against him was tricky, but he managed. He fished the condom from his back pocket before losing the rest of his clothes.
Then she was naked before him, legs eagerly apart, and Dean was ready to feel the hot pleasure of sliding into her.
“Wait,” Cassie suddenly spoke and when Dean paused she pushed his chest. “Lay back.”
Positioned above, she teased him into her. Dean groaned at the sensation. She shifted, tiny wriggles that sent thrilling shocks through him. Then she started to move, riding up and down bringing his hand to her mouth and tasting his fingers and he reached up and pulled her down and buried his hands in those curls that had been driving him crazy since the moment he’d first seen her. She brought her lips down for a kiss and their mouths followed the motion of their bodies as he sucked on her tongue and brushed his hands up and down her supple skin.
He gripped her hips and moved her to his rhythm as he thrust harder and quicker. She gyrated on top of him, until she whimpered and clasped her knees tight to him and shuddered and suddenly he needed her on her back and she rolled with him and his climax was searing and intense and enervating as he murmured her name.
Their mouths scorched back together, but Dean wanted to bring Cassie to that out-of-control moment again, and the second his heartbeat settled somewhere around normal he started licking along the line of her chin, then down her neck to her curves, gently tugging her nipples with his teeth, kissing down to the neat triangle of wiry hair, then tonguing against her sweet spot. He probed harder in response to her uncontrolled moans, until she held his head down and cried, “Don’t stop!” over and over until she cried his name and arched and went limp again.
They lay relaxed together for a bit, until Cassie looked at him with a challenge in her sex-blown eyes, and she straddled him once more. It was her turn to mark him with her mouth, beginning with his left earlobe and making a path all the way down to his cock. She licked its length and then, with mouth and hands, sent Dean back into bliss once more.
***
The sun woke her, which wasn’t all that unusual because she liked mornings and her curtains provided privacy but let in plenty of light. Except her curtains weren’t McDonald’s orange with yellow crescent moons. Oh god.
She shifted under the weight of the arm across her stomach.
He stirred, and relaxed green eyes met hers. “Mornin’ darlin’.”
What the hell had she done? She had made a huge, tremendous mistake. She had … they had … and she’d spent the night? In this … motel room?
Cassie pulled the blanket tightly around herself and sat erect quickly. A snorted “hey” responded to her sudden move.
She made the mistake of looking over at Dean. She’d yanked the covers off him. He lay seductively in all his … oh God. His eyes roved over her, unmistakably asking if she was ready to go again.
Okay, Cassie, get a grip. So she’d fallen under his charm and had a few drinks and that led to a little making out …and then a lot more ... Images swirled. Her body tingled. Desire grappled with self preservation. Because this was a mistake of epic proportions.
“C’mon back. ‘S chilly without you.”
You could say many things about this room right now. Chilly? Not so much. Felt like 110 degrees. “I … I … need to go …”
Dean’s eyes lost all playfulness with a blink. His languid smile straightened into a line. He swung away from her, stood up and pulled on his boxers and jeans with a smooth, practiced motion. She remembered suddenly how they’d come off. All frantic and groping and … she swallowed. How was it that now he was practically fully dressed while she was wearing nothing but a blanket the neon colors of a Happy Meals toy.
He disappeared into the bathroom. “Wouldn’t want to keep you.”
There was no denying the edge to his voice. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. Why did he care if she was leaving? He got what he wanted. She quickly found her discarded clothes. She shivered at the unasked-for memory of relentless pleasure as she stepped into her panties.
Finally, she was mercifully dressed. As she waited for him to exit the bathroom so she could use it, Cassie noted the patchwork of torn newspapers and scraps of writing taped above the scarred dresser. She wanted to see what they were, but she heard the water turn off in the bathroom.
Dean came out, passed by her without saying a word, and grabbed his tee-shirt from the floor.
Back straight, she stepped into the bathroom so she could at least use her finger to brush her teeth. She wouldn’t have showered here anyway, but looking around the dismal bathroom she thought, he stayed here?
She washed her face and hands and used the corner of a thin towel to dry them. Her hair wasn’t as much a tangle as she’d feared … he had corded his fingers through it for a long time when they’d finally relaxed together. Kinda like he couldn’t get enough of it.
And there was the catch. Didn’t goddamn feel like a one-night-stand.
Cassie stood stock still when she emerged from the bathroom as Dean’s gaze traveled from staring out the window to her, locking those impossibly green eyes on her face. She decided she wasn’t going to give an inch. “Well. I should go. I’ll, uh, call a cab from the office.”
Dean looked away first, but only for a moment. When he looked again she couldn’t read his eyes. “You wanna let me know why I feel like you should set some money down on the table before you go?”
“Do all your women pay you afterward?” she snapped.
“No. It just looks like I’m something you’re trying to scrape off your shoe the morning after.”
She’d heard lots of qualities to his smooth voice. Teasing. Snarky. Annoyed. Even a little angry. This sounded a lot like hurt. Maybe she just needed to explain. “Dean. It’s not like that. This was just a mistake.”
“Right. Because there’s no way someone like me is anywhere near good enough for someone like you.”
“I didn’t mean …”
“What did you mean, Cassie? Because I was certainly good enough last night for you.”
Her temper flared. She’d been trying to leave without an awkward scene, but … “It was good, okay? …You were good ... But … this was just a bad idea … a really bad idea.”
“For you, maybe. Not for me.”
His eyes caught and held hers. And she knew she ought to run without looking back. But there was something … need … and vulnerability … She forced herself to choose her words carefully, he had to understand that there couldn’t be more. Couldn’t happen again. “Dean. You’re not letting me explain. I know it was mutual. You know, between us. But that doesn’t … look, you said yourself you’re just here for a short while. Won’t be staying long. Your life isn’t … I’ve got school and my job in the library, and the career I want … There isn’t time for … entanglements.” Especially entanglements with men who are all wrong.
Her mother’s voice warned, Don’t give all your passion away. Yeah, well, she’d given an awful lot away last night. Now she needed to pull it back.
A harsh laugh broke the silence. “Bullshit.”
“What?”
“You heard me. This isn’t about work or school. It’s about you being scared.”
“Of you? Don’t flatter yourself.” How did he manage to piss her off when she was trying to let him down easy?
Dean walked around her, circling like a prowling cat and she pulled back into herself a little, wondering why she was still here. Still listening to him.
“I get it now. The prim and proper vibe you give off. All ‘follow the rules’ unapproachable ice queen. Scares all the little college boys away, doesn’t it? Let’s you keep yourself nice and safe in your bubble of books and newspapers. Not gonna make much of journalist, though, if you’re afraid to get a little dirty now and then.” He stopped and the drop dead smile was back in place. “Last night we got ourselves a little dirty. For real. An’ you’re still in one piece, darlin.’ ”
Every nerve ending bristled. “You don’t have any idea about me. I have goals, plans for my future.”
That wiped the smirk off his face. “And you think I don’t …Where do you get off thinking you’re better than me? I may not have the schooling you have but I know things you couldn’t even-” He stopped abruptly and clenched his jaw.
Cassie knew she was a reserved person. She held her feelings tight to protect herself. But she wasn’t cruel. “Dean. I … I didn’t mean …” What did she mean? “You have to know this,” she pointed between them, “can’t mean anything.”
Again that unreadable look crossed his face. A subdued stare met her eyes. “Yeah. Sure. ’Course you’re right.”
He stood very still. He didn’t move toward her yet wouldn’t stop staring at her. The tension fluttered around and between them like a butterfly looking for a place to land. Finally, she took a step toward the door. Wasn’t there supposed to be relief that he’d agreed with her? The next words left her lips before she could censor them. “Will you be coming back to the library for any more research?”
Dean didn’t answer at first. She thought the answer had to be no. He’d say he was done. “Depends.” Cassie turned from the door and faced him. “You still gonna let me use the restricted section?”
She searched for teasing. If it had been there, if his eyes had sparkled with his usual snarky glint, she’d have been able to tease back and leave and be done with him. Be able to go back to before it started. Before she’d felt his strong heartbeat beneath her fingers and lips.
His eyes burned steady and serious. And waiting for her answer.
“Yes,” she answered on an exhale.
Dean still didn’t smile. But the light was back in his eyes as he said firmly, “Let me drive you home.”
***
Part Two: http://borgmama1of5.livejournal.com/58750.html
Part Three: http://borgmama1of5.livejournal.com/59098.html