Dark Blue Dean/Jaimie
Title:
Fandom/Characters: Dark Blue/Dean Bendis and Jaimie Allen
Disclaimer: Not mine
Rating/Warnings: Mature Readers/Adult Content
Notes: How long has it been since I wrote fic? I don't even know. I've got a lot of bunnies for this fandom, though, so let's hope this is the first of many. Written off the cuff, and apparently my Dean isn't a big talker during sex XD. Comments/suggestions are welcome, especially since it is my first Dark Blue fic, and it's het!
Word Count 1140
The force of contact stung his palm, and radiated up his arm. He hadn't meant to hit her so hard, but the way she stumbled and fell back offered unexpected credibility to the roles they were playing, like he did this kind of thing all the time. He shook his hand out, and looked to the men for approval. He did not want to look at her, while she righted herself. He wanted to apologise, he wanted to feel sorry for what he'd just done, but the truth was he had to do it, to save both their asses. These low life scum bag thugs they were infiltrating had to believe the act; their lives depended on it, at this point.
After a tense moment, the thugs erupted in claps and cat calls of approval. Dean let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. He shifted, keeping his back stiff, his presence commanding. He said nothing to Jaimie, who tenderly touched her lip. He'd made her bleed, and he felt bad about that, but there was nothing to be done for it now, except try to save face. "You fellas mind if I take my old lady home, teach her some manners?" He could feel Jaimie glaring at him, but she knew he wa just keeping up appearances. And he was trying to remove the both of them from the situation, hoping above hope the thugs didn't demand a little more action.
"We could all teach her a lesson," Tito stepped forward. He was the head honcho, the meal ticket to the big man. Carter had said Maynard wanted Lorenzo bad, and he'd given Dean the green light to do what had to be done, to get the bastard. Tito was his way in, and he couldn't blow it.
The suggestion put him on thin ice. He had to be careful, to protect Jaimie without tipping Tito or his thugs off. He grinned, and shook his head. "Nah, man. You think I can't handle the bitch? She got a mouth on her, sure, but it's a damn fine mouth." He drove the point home with a lewd gesture at his crotch. "I'm a private man, T, you know that. Don't like to share my prize."
"Don't blame you," Tito said, giving Jaimie a hard look. He moved in close, to stand toe to toe with Dean. "You bring this bitch around here again, Dino, I'm not going to hold mhy boys back."
Dean kept a neutral face. "Not a problem, T." He stepped down, and jerked a hand at Jaimie. "Let's go, bitch." He tilted his head toward the door. He could feel Jaimie glaring at him as she walked behind him, but to her credit she kept up the submissive act through to the car, where she slid into the back seat. Dean turned the engine over, and glanced at Jaimie in the rearview as he backed up the jeep and spun the wheels out to get on the main road. "Look, I'm sorry I hit you."
"Spare me, Dean. You had to do it." Jaimie kept her gaze averted out the window. "I'd rather have a bruised lip, than a bullet in my head."
He had to give her credit for that. He shifted his gaze back to the road. This was not the kind of conversation to have without eye contact. Dean sighed, wondering if he even needed to say another word. He was a guy. He didn't know what the hell he was supposed to say, after punching a girl, no matter what the situation was.
Jaimie didn’t say anything either, and Dean was more than happy to drive in silence, even if it was tense and awkward. Silence was probably less awkward than the conversation would have been.
*********
Half an hour later, they were back at the office, and neither Ty nor Carter were around. Dean tossed his jacket over the back of a chair, and pulled his shir away from his chest to try to get some air circulating. Jaimie watched him, as if she were studying his every move. He stopped, and tilted his head at her. "What?"
She shook her head as she started toward him. He barely had time to react, before her hand connected with his jaw. He stepped back, but he was too late. He felt the throb of contact, and the heat of her mouth was like a whiskey chaser, pulling him in to a deeply passionate kiss. She whimpered, and he backed off, only to come at her again without mercy for her battered lip. His hand moved up to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair. He felt her hand caress the curve of his skull, fingers teased down to the tendons in his neck.
There was no tenderness in the way they undressed each other, clothes tossed aside in a careless heap. It was an age old dance, and both of them knew the steps. He grunted, as his right hand clawed at the top drawer of his dresser. When his blind search was unsuccessful, Jaimie nudged his hand out of the way, to reach in herself. They were both already sweating, and it was sheer will power that kept him from thrusting forward and up to breech her. He growled in frustration, but then she held up the condom, and ripped the packet open with her teeth.
She rolled it on to him with ease, obviously something she had done many times before. He didn't care what she'd done before, she was with him now. He thrust his fingers between her thighs, giving her a quick prep, before his hips angled in and he pushed past her resistence. He groaned, her tight heat throbbing around him. He sank deep, and guided her legs up to his waist, the wall at her back giving her the support she needed to grind down against him.
It didn't take long for the pent up feelings to bring them both to orgasm, gasping and groaning low and deep. Neither made much noise, as they found completion, and Dean gently let Jaimie's feet find the floor. He slipped into the bathroom to toss the soiled condom and clean himself up. He left the door open and didn't bother to turn on the light. He anticipated her coming to the door, and she didn't disappoint. He smiled, a rare true smile.
She stepped in, used a towel to clean herself, then walked out. It was his turn to stand in the door way. He said nothing as she dressed, though the way her hair curtained her face didn’t go unnoticed. She looked over to him and nodded, then slipped out without a word. Dean sighed, and flopped down on his bed, naked and sweating.
Fandom/Characters: Dark Blue/Dean Bendis and Jaimie Allen
Disclaimer: Not mine
Rating/Warnings: Mature Readers/Adult Content
Notes: How long has it been since I wrote fic? I don't even know. I've got a lot of bunnies for this fandom, though, so let's hope this is the first of many. Written off the cuff, and apparently my Dean isn't a big talker during sex XD. Comments/suggestions are welcome, especially since it is my first Dark Blue fic, and it's het!
Word Count 1140
The force of contact stung his palm, and radiated up his arm. He hadn't meant to hit her so hard, but the way she stumbled and fell back offered unexpected credibility to the roles they were playing, like he did this kind of thing all the time. He shook his hand out, and looked to the men for approval. He did not want to look at her, while she righted herself. He wanted to apologise, he wanted to feel sorry for what he'd just done, but the truth was he had to do it, to save both their asses. These low life scum bag thugs they were infiltrating had to believe the act; their lives depended on it, at this point.
After a tense moment, the thugs erupted in claps and cat calls of approval. Dean let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. He shifted, keeping his back stiff, his presence commanding. He said nothing to Jaimie, who tenderly touched her lip. He'd made her bleed, and he felt bad about that, but there was nothing to be done for it now, except try to save face. "You fellas mind if I take my old lady home, teach her some manners?" He could feel Jaimie glaring at him, but she knew he wa just keeping up appearances. And he was trying to remove the both of them from the situation, hoping above hope the thugs didn't demand a little more action.
"We could all teach her a lesson," Tito stepped forward. He was the head honcho, the meal ticket to the big man. Carter had said Maynard wanted Lorenzo bad, and he'd given Dean the green light to do what had to be done, to get the bastard. Tito was his way in, and he couldn't blow it.
The suggestion put him on thin ice. He had to be careful, to protect Jaimie without tipping Tito or his thugs off. He grinned, and shook his head. "Nah, man. You think I can't handle the bitch? She got a mouth on her, sure, but it's a damn fine mouth." He drove the point home with a lewd gesture at his crotch. "I'm a private man, T, you know that. Don't like to share my prize."
"Don't blame you," Tito said, giving Jaimie a hard look. He moved in close, to stand toe to toe with Dean. "You bring this bitch around here again, Dino, I'm not going to hold mhy boys back."
Dean kept a neutral face. "Not a problem, T." He stepped down, and jerked a hand at Jaimie. "Let's go, bitch." He tilted his head toward the door. He could feel Jaimie glaring at him as she walked behind him, but to her credit she kept up the submissive act through to the car, where she slid into the back seat. Dean turned the engine over, and glanced at Jaimie in the rearview as he backed up the jeep and spun the wheels out to get on the main road. "Look, I'm sorry I hit you."
"Spare me, Dean. You had to do it." Jaimie kept her gaze averted out the window. "I'd rather have a bruised lip, than a bullet in my head."
He had to give her credit for that. He shifted his gaze back to the road. This was not the kind of conversation to have without eye contact. Dean sighed, wondering if he even needed to say another word. He was a guy. He didn't know what the hell he was supposed to say, after punching a girl, no matter what the situation was.
Jaimie didn’t say anything either, and Dean was more than happy to drive in silence, even if it was tense and awkward. Silence was probably less awkward than the conversation would have been.
*********
Half an hour later, they were back at the office, and neither Ty nor Carter were around. Dean tossed his jacket over the back of a chair, and pulled his shir away from his chest to try to get some air circulating. Jaimie watched him, as if she were studying his every move. He stopped, and tilted his head at her. "What?"
She shook her head as she started toward him. He barely had time to react, before her hand connected with his jaw. He stepped back, but he was too late. He felt the throb of contact, and the heat of her mouth was like a whiskey chaser, pulling him in to a deeply passionate kiss. She whimpered, and he backed off, only to come at her again without mercy for her battered lip. His hand moved up to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair. He felt her hand caress the curve of his skull, fingers teased down to the tendons in his neck.
There was no tenderness in the way they undressed each other, clothes tossed aside in a careless heap. It was an age old dance, and both of them knew the steps. He grunted, as his right hand clawed at the top drawer of his dresser. When his blind search was unsuccessful, Jaimie nudged his hand out of the way, to reach in herself. They were both already sweating, and it was sheer will power that kept him from thrusting forward and up to breech her. He growled in frustration, but then she held up the condom, and ripped the packet open with her teeth.
She rolled it on to him with ease, obviously something she had done many times before. He didn't care what she'd done before, she was with him now. He thrust his fingers between her thighs, giving her a quick prep, before his hips angled in and he pushed past her resistence. He groaned, her tight heat throbbing around him. He sank deep, and guided her legs up to his waist, the wall at her back giving her the support she needed to grind down against him.
It didn't take long for the pent up feelings to bring them both to orgasm, gasping and groaning low and deep. Neither made much noise, as they found completion, and Dean gently let Jaimie's feet find the floor. He slipped into the bathroom to toss the soiled condom and clean himself up. He left the door open and didn't bother to turn on the light. He anticipated her coming to the door, and she didn't disappoint. He smiled, a rare true smile.
She stepped in, used a towel to clean herself, then walked out. It was his turn to stand in the door way. He said nothing as she dressed, though the way her hair curtained her face didn’t go unnoticed. She looked over to him and nodded, then slipped out without a word. Dean sighed, and flopped down on his bed, naked and sweating.