Where we grew up and eventually fell in love with each other, even though we didn’t acknowledge it.
Today as I sit in his car that I’ve been traveling in for the past five days, I have more than the mere thought.
I have more than the fantasy.
I’m in New York and my dream is sitting right next to me, holding my hand on his thigh. His fingers are wrapped around mine in a tight grip.
A really, really tight grip.
But I think that’s me. I think I’m the one crushing his large, strong hand with my tiny one.
Maybe because even though my dreams have come true and Dean is here with me, I’m not comfortable as I normally would be.
I don’t feel the same liquid warmth spreading through my veins at the sight of my home. In fact, I’m cold and jittery and I know it’s not because I’m in New York where winter actually is winter.
“Hey.”
Dean’s voice echoes in the interior of his car and I look away from my home.
“Hey,” I whisper to him, studying his face.
His beautiful face with royal features. A stunning structure of bones. A magnificent work of lines and peaks and valleys.
“You okay?” he asks in that deep voice of his.
Deep and made of thick honey, I think.
It was powerful before—it has always been powerful, if I really think about it—but its power has become almost cosmic since last night.
Since he used that voice while he was inside of me.
I clench my thighs. “Yes.”
He isn’t convinced. His eyes flick over my features like he’s trying to figure out all my secrets.
That’s the thing though. I don’t have any, not from him.
Not anymore. Especially not after last night.
Dean traces the curve of my cheek with his finger. “Does it hurt still?”
I’m probably going all red right now. He can probably watch it happen, my skin turning pink right under his digit that he’s using to draw circles on my cheek.
The knowledge of it is reflected in his glinting eyes. They’re both intense and sort of smiling at the same time.
I shake my head because my voice is failing me.
“No?”
“No,” I whisper, my fingers tightening their grip even more around his hand. “I just…”
“You just what?”
“I just feel it,” I reply, squirming in my seat and clenching my thighs again, which he notices.
I lower my eyes then because his have become full with images of last night and this morning.
Not that we had sex this morning. Dean wouldn’t. He thought I was too sore, which was correct but that didn’t mean that I wanted him to refrain.
I’ve already fucked up and had you twice last night, Tiny. You need time to recover.
That’s what he told me, that he had me. It made me squirm the same way I’m squirming now, like I’m something to eat up, something to sink his teeth into and devour.
After that comment of his, I declared that I’d recovered. That he could check it if he wanted and he did check it. He went down and his examination turned into something really erotic with tongue and lips and maybe even his teeth on me.
After he fed on me, it was my turn. Not to feed on him though, but to feed on the meds. He ran out and got me pain medication. And since he’s so familiar with my anti-depressants, he knew which brand of pain medication to buy.
As I said before, it’s not as if there are any secrets between us.
So it’s weird that I’m acting this way, shy and jittery. Maybe it’s because we’re at the end of the journey. Our solitude is over. Now comes the reality of telling my parents, of being a couple in front of them.
I can’t give it any more thought than this because Dean is demanding my attention.
“Hey, eyes up here, Tiny,” he orders, the finger that was lingering on my cheek now at my chin, and he lifts my face.
When our eyes meet, he turns in his seat and shifts closer.
“Feel what?” he repeats his question from before, looking down at me.
“You. I feel you,” I whisper.
His cheekbones flush and he cups my cheek. Well, cupping is gentle. He grabs it. His palm opens up and his fingers grasp my jaw in a possessive hold.
A hold that kills my shyness piece by piece. A hold that makes me wish that we were back at that motel room, tangled up in sheets and in each other.
“Yeah? You feel me?”
His thready, rough voice vibrates in my belly, in my core that’s become slick just from remembering the way he both made love to me and fucked me.
“Yes,” I reply.
“What do you feel?”
“That you’re inside of me. That you’re still there.”
That’s when he lets go of my hand that was joined with him on his thigh and grabs my other cheek too.
His thumbs make a circle around my throat as his fingers bury themselves in my hair. “Inside of you, yeah. That’s where I am. That’s where I’ll always be, you understand? I’ll fuck you so many times, in so many different ways, that you’ll always feel me. You’re mine now.”
I fist his sweater as I feel a trickle of my wetness ooze out of my core at his words. “Yeah.”
“Say it. Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, Dean.”
“You’ve always been mine.”
“Always.”
His mouth tugs up but not in a humorous smile. It’s a tight, brimming with regret. “I’ve just been too stupid to see it.”
I let go of his sweater and rub the corner of his mouth. “It’s okay. You see it now.”
He frowns, his features bunching up into intense lines. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” I go to say something else, but he stops me. “Tell me you know that I’ll do anything for you.”
My heart hurts.
It squeezes itself and I feel an ache in my chest. People always say that love hurts but maybe it’s not a bad thing.
Maybe sometimes love hurts because the man you love loves you back.
He not only loves you back, he loves you so much that you can see that love take a physical shape in the way he holds you and looks at you.
The way he breaks himself open for you.
Sometimes love hurts because it’s bursting at the seams.
“I know. I’ve always known, Dean.” I lick my lips. “You’ve always protected me. You know what my mom calls you sometimes?”
“What?”
“Fallon Whisperer.”
He swallows thickly, his eyes rimmed with emotions.
“You’re my whisperer, Dean. You’re my protector. And you know what else?”
“What?”
“My mom, when she talks about Dad, she says that she was born for him. She was born to love him. And I feel the same. About you. I feel like I was born for you too. I was born to love you and I’ll do anything for you. And I know that you’ll do anything for me because you were born for me too.”