Angel of Redemption (62 page)

Kayla

“What are you doing?” I
giggle.

“
Shhh
.”

“I’m not gonna
shhh
. What are you doing?”

“I’m listening.”

“To what?”

“Your heartbeat.”

“Dean. My heartbeat is not down there.”

“Really? I could have sworn I felt a strange
pulsing from right here.” He drags his finger across my skin, making me squirm.

“You’re so weird. Put my foot down and come back
up here before I accidentally kick you in the face.”

It’s been a week since Dean and I made up, or
whatever it was we did. He
’s spent every night with me that he’s not
scheduled to be at Wyatt House, but we haven’t had sex. He’s teased and groped
a little, but I think he’s waiting for me to give him the go-ahead for more.

He spent the last two nights at Wyatt house but
showed up on my doorstep early this morning with coffee and croissants. We’ve
been lying on the couch ever since.

He crawls up my body, pausing when his mouth is
directly over the apex of my legs.

“Don’t even think about it,” I scold. “It’s the
middle of the day, and we’re on the couch. If Andy walks in here and finds you
with your face buried between my thighs, he’s gonna murder you.”

Dean grins, kisses me through the fabric of my
pants, and finishes his ascent. “I feel like I’m a teenager trying not to get
caught by your daddy.”

He kisses me deeply before flipping us over so I’m
on top of him. I cuddle against his body as his fingers trail through my hair.
I close my eyes and relish the feeling of his heart beating against my cheek.

I adore lazy Sunday afternoons. I like them even
more when I’m wrapped in the arms of the man I’m secretly, desperately in love
with.

My phone rings.

“Don’t answer it,” Dean says lifting his head.

I sit up and look at my screen.
“It’s
Andy.”

Dean groans.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“No! Really?”

“Shut up. So, we’re in Fargo.”

“Still?”

“Yeah. We were headed back, but my car died.”

“What do you mean, ‘died’?”

Dean sits up so that my side is against his
chest. One leg is straight out against the back of the couch, the other on the
floor.

“Who died?” he whispers in my ear. I shake my
head and hold up my finger.

“I don’t know. Sara’s uncle is taking a look at
it right now. Hopefully it won’t be a huge repair, but we’re going to stay another
night.”

“Okay,” I grunt because Dean has just taken my
finger into his mouth and is sucking on it.

“You okay?
” Andy asks.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine.”

Dean lets go of my finger and starts kissing up
my arm. He grabs my hand and places it on the crotch of his sweatpants. I begin
to rub him, smiling to myself as I feel him thrusting ever so slightly into me.
I
’m getting incredibly turned on. And with Andy telling me they aren’t
coming home anytime soon, I’m ready to end the sexual drought.

“I’ve called my office. I was supposed to have
three adjudications tomorrow, but Kerry’s covering for me. Sara left a message
for Kate. Can you make sure she gets it in the morning?”

“Yeah, sure.” My eyes roll back into my head when
Dean’s mouth reaches a pulse point on my neck. He bites down gently.

“Thanks. I don’t want to know what’s the matter
with you, do I?”

“No,” I respond.

Dean turns my hips so that my ass is directly
against him, forcing me to stop stroking him because the angle is too
uncomfortable. He slips his hands up my shirt and around, covering my breasts
and pulling the cups of my bra down.

“When do you think you’ll be back?”

“Assuming the car can be fixed, tomorrow
afternoon.”

Thumbs roll around my hardening nipples, sending
tiny shock waves straight down my body.

“Ahhhhh. Okaybecareful.”

“Yeah. You, too.
”

I don’t even say good-bye before hitting
END
and tossing my phone onto
the table. “What are you doing to me?” I gasp.

“Everything okay?” Dean asks.

I rest my head against his shoulder and close my
eyes. “Andy and Sara are stuck in Fargo at her parents
’ house.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” he breathes
seductively into my ear. “Does that mean I don’t have to worry about Daddy
interrupting me while I eat?”

“Are you that hungry?” I ask, running my hands up
and down his thighs.

“You have no idea.”

“Maybe I should get up and make you something,
then.
” If I thought I was going to get very far with my teasing, I was
wrong. Dean lets me stand up, but he’s right behind me, his arms around my
waist.

“Don’t play with me, woman,” he growls, turning
me to face the couch. “I’ve got everything I need, right here.” He pulls my
shirt over my head, tossing it to the side, then unsnaps my bra. It, too, falls
to the floor. My chest is heaving with raw need. I really want him. I feel Dean’s
hand flat against my back as he applies pressure.

“Is this okay?” he whispers in my ear.

I nod.
“This is more than okay.”

“Good. Then lean forward and put your hands out.”

I do as he tells me, gripping the back of the
couch. I don’t have to see him to know he’s taking off his own shirt, but I
peek anyway. A bare-chested Dean is always a sight to behold.

“Eyes forward, sweetheart.” He smirks. I grin,
bite down on my lip playfully, and turn back toward the couch. He kneels down,
and his fingers toy with the waistband of my pajama pants before slipping them
down my legs, and then I’m completely naked. I feel vulnerable, but not in a
bad way.

Dean doesn’t move, nor does he touch me
—not
at first, anyway. The anticipation is driving me crazy. Then his lips are at
the base of my spine, moving upward as he stands. He nips my skin softly and
then smoothes over it with his tongue.

“Dean?” I pant.

“Hmmm?”

“I really want you inside me.”

He freezes for a second. “Right here?”

“Right here,” I assure, pressing myself back into
him.

“Move over that way,” he says, pointing to the
couch. “On your hands and knees.
”

The couch shifts and I feel him behind me, his
hard cock against my backside, sliding between my legs, back and forth against
me. I close my eyes and enjoy the sensation.

“Ohhhhhh,” I moan loudly as he pushes into me
without warning. He groans, holding me in place as I adjust to his size, which
doesn’t take long. I love that he can read my body so well. He speeds up and
slows down without waiting for me to tell him, which is good since I seem to
have completely lost my ability to speak.

“Do you like it this way?” he asks, his hips
slapping against my ass roughly. I can
’t answer. I’m too busy gasping
for breath. All I can do is nod. My arms are shaking with the force he’s
putting into fucking me. After a few more thrusts, he withdraws, pulling me
back so that I’m essentially sitting in his lap.

“I really like that position,” he says, his voice
gravelly. “I like this one, too. But I want to see your face when you come. It’s
been way too long.” His hand snakes down between my legs. “Tell me how you want
it. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

I’m having a hard time concentrating. He’s
stimulating several areas at once with his fingers, his mouth, his smell. I
feel like I’m high.

“Kayla? Tell me what you want,” he demands. I
turn around and wrap my legs around him. He smirks, guiding his cock back
inside me. “Good girl,” he whispers. “Come on, sweetheart, give it to me.”

“You feel so good,” I pant, rocking my entire body
into him. “Oh my God.
” His hands are on my hips, helping me slide his
cock in and out. He’s watching me. Watching me lose my battle to keep my orgasm
at bay. “I’m…I’m gonna come. I can’t… Oh, shit.” I start trembling as it hits
me full force.

“That’s it, baby,” Dean says, gripping me harder
and moving his hips upward faster. “Let it go. You’re so fucking beautiful.
”
He guides me through effortlessly, letting me slow down to a near stop. I catch
my breath and grin lazily. I realize he hasn’t come yet and begin to move
again.

“Hold on, sweetheart. Lie back.” We switch
positions so that he’s on top of me again. “Can I get a little rough?” he asks,
his eyes bright. I love seeing him like this—so excited. I grab the back
of his head and yank his mouth down to mine, biting his lip.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckles and pushes
back into me gently. When I look at him in question, a mischievous smile
appears. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips. He’s torturing me on purpose.
He knows I’m anticipating what he’s promised. His hand slides up underneath my
knee and slowly hitches my leg up, placing my calf on his shoulder. And then he
begins to pound me. It’s so good. I can feel the pressure building again.

“You gonna come again?”

“Yes,” I whimper. “Don’t stop.”

“Tell me when, sweetheart.”

“Dean!”

He’s thrusting into me so hard and fast at this
point that I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be able to walk, but I couldn’t
care less. I clench around him and, with a final thrust, he’s there with me.

Dean’s back arches, his dick pulses. There’s
something so primal about this moment. I close my eyes and bite my cheek
because I’m so close to telling him I love him and I know he’s not ready to
hear that. I’m not sure he’ll ever be ready to hear it, but that doesn’t stop
me from feeling it.

He takes a few deep breaths. “That was fucking
incredible. Are you okay?” I nod without opening my eyes. “Kayla?”

“I’m fine. Oh, God, I’m more than fine. Jesus
Christ.”

Dean laughs and pulls out of me before standing. “I’ll
be right back.” He comes back with a wet towel and a blanket. “I found this in
the closet, is it okay?”

“Yeah.” I nod.

He hands me the towel, and I clean myself up.
When I’m done, Dean wraps us both in the blanket. It’s warm and soft and so
comfortable. I’m still in his arms—he’s not going anywhere—and I
honestly can’t remember the last time I was happier. Dean falls asleep first,
but next to his heavy rhythmic breathing, I don’t stand a chance.

* * *

Later that evening after
taking a long, hot shower, Dean takes me out for sushi.

“Try this,” I say, holding up a piece of squid
with my chopsticks.

Dean’s nose wrinkles, and he shakes his head. “No.”

“Aw, come on. It’s good.” I laugh.

“Nuh-uh. I’m gonna stick with my chicken fried
rice,” he says, taking a gigantic bite of his own dinner.

“How is it possible that a big, tough guy like
you is afraid to eat a little raw fish?”

“That’s not a fish,” he protests, pointing his
fork at me. I roll my eyes and shove the squid into my mouth.

“What about this one?”

“What is it?” He looks at my tuna warily.

“Why don’t you try it, and then I’ll tell you?”

“Stop trying to feed me raw fish. It’s gross.”

“You sound like Logan,” I snicker.

“You tried to make him eat that shit, too?”

I scoff. “Yeah, right. How’s he doing? Any
better?”

I saw Logan last week, after Dean told me he
might be thinking about bolting with his girlfriend. Logan vehemently denied it
and got really pissed at me when I started asking questions. He screamed and
yelled about his
“fucking privacy” before storming out. Emily said she
got a similar reaction when she tried to talk to him a few days before. Matty,
who was also in the room, just shrugged, saying he didn’t know anything.

Matty seems to be getting more and more
comfortable with the prospect of Logan leaving care. He’s obviously not happy
about it, but Rebecca, his school counselor, has been meeting with him twice a
week for an hour during study hall. I think it’s helping.

Dean shrugs and takes a drink of Sapporo. “His
car’s done.”

“Oh. Uh, cool. Is he driving it?”

Dean shakes his head. “He’s picking it up on
Tuesday. Santiago is going to take him to get it inspected and registered under
his name, and then it’s his responsibility.”

“He can do that if he’s not eighteen yet?”

“Apparently. As long as he has a legal driver
’s
license, he can register a car in his name without a parent or guardian. He
doesn’t have any payments to make, so it’s not a problem.”

“Are you really okay with that?” I ask, raising
an eyebrow.

“I told Santiago it was fine.”

“That’s not what I asked,” I say, calling him
out.

He takes a breath through his nose. “We sat down
and had a chat last night when he asked me. I told him the basics about the
accident and how I got all fucked up.”