Slow Burn Part 49

"I don't know."

He doesn't flinch under my exploration of his injuries, but just stands there, staring at me like a big lost puppy. I release a chest-heaving sigh, and give his wrist a tug. "Come on. Let's find a bathroom, and get you cleaned up."

I lead him toward the game room bathroom, but just as I reach for the handle, the door opens and Ben steps out. He grins when he sees me, adjusting his s.h.i.+rt before I surprise him with a hug.

"I have to talk to you, but not right now," I tell him with a significant raise of my eyebrows.

"Yeah, sure. But, uh, I wouldn't go in there." Ben puts his arm across the doorway, blocking me. "I had some bad tacos for dinner."

He waves a hand around theatrically, but his efforts are spoiled when the door opens further to reveal Katerinka, the foreign exchange student. She appears startled to see us all standing there, and quickly slams the door shut. I give Ben a disgusted look. Bathroom s.e.x? Really? And with Katerinka?!

"That is not what it looks like," Ben says, smiling shamelessly. He clears his throat. "Use the bathroom upstairs. More privacy."

I smile my thanks, and pull Dean away. He allows me to, remaining silent behind me. I hope he doesn't pa.s.s out on me, not before I can get him cleaned up.

I've never been upstairs before, so I pause at the landing, unsure where to go. Dean takes the lead, placing a hand on the small of my back as he guides me to the first door on the left.

I take a second to admire the bronze and gold theme of the bathroom, with tile that looks like stones, and a tub that looks big enough to comfortably fit a family of four. I should be used to rich boys and their beautiful homes by now, but I can't help the stirrings of envy when I compare my bathroom to Ben's.

Shaking my head of that shallow thought, I turn back to Dean. He's leaning against the counter, watching me with a guarded expression. I find a clean washcloth in a linen closet, and run it under the warm water in the sink.

"Are you okay?" I ask as I clean the blood from his knuckles, as gently as possible. "These cuts don't look too bad, but we should...what's wrong?"

Dean suddenly shakes his head. He pulls away, running both hands through his wet dark hair, and locking them behind his head as he stares at me. The movement makes the muscles in his chest and arms bulge, and his damp s.h.i.+rt rides up in the front, revealing a sliver of his abs. My mouth goes dry. Given the circ.u.mstances, I should not be l.u.s.ting after him right now. But, d.a.m.n. Wet drunk Dean is hot.

"I thought you were gonna run," he says, letting out a humorless chuckle. "I was sure you'd never want to see me again."

I set the washcloth down on the sink, and turn back to him. "I thought about it," I admit. "That video was awful! I felt so violated. I can't believe someone was watching while we...I don't even want to think about it now."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Dean." I sigh deeply, and look up at him. "We need to talk."

He suddenly pulls me close, his hands on my hips. "Later," he says, lowering his head to mine.

"But-"

He swallows my words up with his kisses. Deep, pa.s.sionate ones that have me clinging to him like a life preserver. He turns us around so my back is against the counter. I entwine my arms around his neck and press my body closer to his. I can't get close enough, and it makes me growl in frustration.

"I need you, Juliet," Dean whispers, trailing kisses along my neck. His hands move under my skirt, sliding slowly up my thighs. "Right now."

"I..."

I pull back a little and look into his eyes, seeing the torment in them. The raw intensity of his desire is scary, yet thrilling. My body responds helplessly. But it's not the restless ache, or my own wild desire that has me reaching for him. This isn't about s.e.x as much as it is about comfort and need. I would do anything to drive out that look of pain and uncertainty lingering in his face.

Dean's hands are paused at my thighs, waiting for me to decide. "Okay," I say softly.

That's all he needs. His grips me under my thighs, and I'm lifted onto the counter with a forcefulness that has my nerves singing with excitement. He moves to stand between my legs, and cups my face in his hands.

"This is going to be fast and hard," Dean warns me, breathing hard.

I lick my lips very deliberately. "Just try to keep up with me."

His answering grin is so full of dark promise that I experience a tiny bit of maidenly terror. Eek. I should've kept my big mouth shut.

Despite his warning, Dean takes the time to make sure I'm ready for him. When he discovers that I'm all set, he seems to lose control. b.u.t.tons go flying and underwear is ripped-and I am so completely turned on that all I can think is "more, more, more!" I thought I would let him take charge, and hold on for dear life-but I find myself desperate to consume as much of him as possible...demanding, taking...begging. I want to hold on to these desperate lovely feelings, but Dean's got me hurtling to the edge at breakneck speed.

"You own me," he breathes in my ear, and with that one push, I go flying.

After, we stay joined together, trying to catch our breaths. My ears are ringing, and I can't see anything. I'm hoping these are temporary aftereffects, but if not...so totally worth it. Dean says something, but I don't catch it.

"What?" I ask uncertainly.

"Are you okay?" he repeats.

"Yeah, I think so." I giggle weakly, playing with the black cord around his neck. Seeing him wear the necklace I got for him makes me smile all over.

"s.h.i.+t." Dean bows his head. When he looks back up, his face is serious. "I didn't use a condom."

"I know."

I give a little shrug. He knows I'm on the pill, and we've discussed our s.e.xual health and histories-and we both got clean bills of health from recent doctor visits. Also, it's the wrong time of month for me to get pregnant-I keep track with a handy app on my phone.

"I've never done it without a condom before," Dean says, watching my face carefully.

"Hm. How did it feel?"

He exhales a husky laugh. "f.u.c.king awesome."

Sober Dean would have never said that. I smile at him, shaking my head. But my amus.e.m.e.nt is short-lived when I take stock of myself. My bra is ripped in half, and most of the b.u.t.tons on my (wet) blouse are missing. I don't even know where my panties...oh, there's part of it, stuck to Dean's pant leg.

"I can't go out like this," I whisper, mortified.

"Sorry," he apologizes, not sounding sorry at all.

"Well, what am I gonna do? Do you have a jacket downstairs, or something?"

Dean opens his mouth to reply, but then glances down at me with a frown. He takes my right hand in his, holding it up to the light. "What the h.e.l.l happened to your hand?" he growls.

Oh, now that I see my bruised and swollen knuckles-it hurts! Taking my hand back, I wince. "I hit something," I say, repeating his words. "I'll explain later. Right now, I just want to get cleaned up."

Dean studies me for a few seconds, then gives a curt nod. "I'd offer you my s.h.i.+rt, but it's still pretty wet. Why don't you get cleaned up, and I'll ask Ben if you can borrow something?"

"Okay," I agree with a wince. "Be discreet!"

He smirks at me before slipping out the door. I lock it after him, then with just one longing look at the tub, I clean myself up as best as I can. I dump my bra and panties in the urn-like wastebasket, then throw a bunch of toilet paper over them to hide the evidence. I cannot believe I had bathroom s.e.x! I wait for the shame to hit me, but really, all I feel is a little embarra.s.sed. And very satisfied. In fact, I can't keep the grin off my face.

A soft knock on the door startles me out of my dirty thoughts. Clutching my blouse together with one hand, I cautiously open the door with the other, peeking my head out. I sigh in relief when I see Dean standing there.

I step aside to let him in, and he does, locking the door behind him. He hands me a s.h.i.+rt, long-sleeved, dark blue, and smelling like Ben's cologne. I take off my blouse and quickly slip into the s.h.i.+rt. It's long on me, but not too bad, and you can't tell I'm braless underneath. I still feel exposed, however, having nothing on under my skirt. Ben may be a very good friend, but I'm not about to ask him if I can borrow a pair of boxers. Ugh.

He's waiting for us in the hallway. I freeze, my face warming with embarra.s.sment when he gives me the exact same look I gave him when we caught him with Katerinka. He bursts out laughing at my guilty expression.

"Bad tacos?" he says with an impish smile.

"Must be an epidemic," I mutter sheepishly.

Dean looks impatient when Ben continues to chuckle. "What's up?" he asks, turning to him with his eyebrows raised.

Ben's laughter dies down, and he looks back and forth between the two of us. "Have either of you checked your phones recently? I'm guessing not."

"What-oh, s.h.i.+t." Both hands go over my mouth as the blood drains from my face. "She sent it, didn't she?"

It's happening. I think I'm going to be sick. I glance at Dean, who's looking down at me in concern. Numbly, I turn to Ben. "Can I see your phone?"

He hands it over, a strange look on his face. I look down at the screen, already open to a received video message from Kara. The subject reads, "Dirty s.l.u.t opens wide." My fingers are almost shaking too hard to push the play b.u.t.ton. I don't know why I need to watch it when I already know what's on it. I feel Dean's strong body against my back, steadying me. He puts his hands on my hips, and watches over my shoulder. Barely breathing, I tap the play b.u.t.ton.

The video starts in the bathroom, focusing on the s.p.a.ce through the cracked open door. It goes out of focus for a second, then comes back much sharper. Just like the video I watched, except- The screen goes black for a second, and then...

The scene changes. I blink in astonishment. Instead of Dean and I getting it on, there's Kara, sitting at a table and stuffing her face with a huge slice of pizza. The video is shaky, and kind of blurry, but you can definitely tell it's her...holy s.h.i.+t, she's a total pig! After she devours the slice in a record-breaking amount of time, she goes after another piece. There's pizza sauce all over her chin, on one cheek, and on her forehead.

My mouth open, I look up at Ben. "How...?"

Ben's dark eyes are dancing with smug amus.e.m.e.nt, and he's grinning his a.s.s off. "Don't question genius. But you can name your firstborn after me as payment."

Dean and I exchange stunned, laughing looks. "You switched the video instead of erasing it," Dean says, the corners of his eyes crinkling up in amus.e.m.e.nt. "Sneaky son of a b.i.t.c.h."

"What I did was a little trickier than that, since I wanted to keep some of the original footage in the beginning." Ben gestures to himself proudly. "d.a.m.n, it's good to be me. Now I wish I hadn't thrown out my wand and fairy G.o.dmother badge."

Chuckling, Dean slaps him on the back. "I owe you, man."

"Nah, I've been looking to get that b.i.t.c.h back." His face darkens. "She gave Arianna a lot of s.h.i.+t last year."

"Thank you!"

I spring forward and throw my arms around his neck. "Seriously, Ben, I will definitely name my firstborn after you. You. Are. Awesome!"

"Don't I know it." He disentangles himself from my arms. "But thank me in private-not when the big guy is staring daggers at me."

I shoot a quick glance at Dean, who's looking a little cranky. I'm too relieved to care. Smiling, I turn back to Ben. "You're gonna need to erase our s.e.x video from your private collection, though."

He scowls at me. "Am I not allowed to have any fun?" Dean smacks the back of his head, and he flinches. "Okay, okay! I'll erase it!"

I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of me. Dean and I leave Ben's without saying goodbye to the other guys (the no underwear thing has me really self-conscious). Dean looks really tired. I shyly offer to take care of him at my house, but he doesn't want me driving that far at night.

"Go to my house," he says, letting his head fall back on the headrest of the pa.s.senger seat. "Stay with me tonight."

"Oh...um..."

"No one's home," he rea.s.sures me, keeping his eyes closed. "And I want you in my bed."

I quickly look away so he doesn't see my little grimace. I'm going to have to sleep all night on his horrible rock bed? Well, I guess it's worth it as long as he's there. I'll just sleep mostly on top of him.

I text my mom to let her know that I'll be at Dean's for the night. A few minutes later, she sends me a reply, saying to do what I want. So...great.

As soon as we get to his house, I make a beeline for his room, and for the shower. We take one together, too tired to do anything more than kiss. Then Dean falls into bed, naked and exhausted. As soon as I lie down next to him, he pa.s.ses out. It takes me a few minutes to get comfortable, but being in his arms again is the best kind of heaven.

I stare up at the stars on his ceiling until I eventually surrender to the weight of my eyelids.

Chapter 53.

Dean wakes me up at about ten the next morning with a box of pastries from my favorite bakery-and a bag of stuff from my house!

"When did you get all this?!" I exclaim, happily digging through my bag. Yay, underwear! And he even remembered my deodorant and my lotion! G.o.d, I love him.

"Just got back," he says, throwing his keys on his desk. "Your mom wasn't there."

I'm already heading toward the bathroom, a blanket wrapped around me and my bag slung over one shoulder. "That's probably for the best," I say without turning around. "I'm going to jump in the shower."

"Then we'll talk."

"Then we'll talk," I agree.

After a quick (for me) shower, I'm ready to tell Dean about my little talk with Kara. He remains expressionless throughout my recounting, but then his lips twitch when I get to the part about punching her. Maybe I'm a little too detailed, but it's the part I remember most fondly.

And from the look on his face, I think he's enjoying the mental image.

"Are you sure about this?"

Dean shuts the engine, and turns to me with a searching look. We're in the parking lot of the police station-and I really wish I hadn't had so many pastries this morning. They're firmly wedged in my throat right now, about to make a second appearance. d.a.m.n, why do I have to be a cryer and a puker?

"Yeah," I say finally, staring down at the flash drive in my hand. "Let's just get this over with."

Dean opens his door, but before he gets out, he grabs my hand, and gives it a rea.s.suring squeeze. I smile shakily. We can do this.

I realize that at some point we'd have to call our parents in, but I didn't expect it to be so soon. Dean's father doesn't answer, but Mom comes rus.h.i.+ng down when she finds out I'm at the police station, and not at school.

It's horrible-but not as bad as I feared. Instead of being annoyed and ashamed of me, Mom shocks me by crying, and giving me a comforting hug. At first, she sits stiffly, and won't even look in Dean's direction. But as we talk with the detectives, and I explain everything Dean went through to protect me, she starts shooting him speculative looks. I think I detect a hint of warmth in her eyes. At least, I'm hoping.

I don't know if it's good thing that the detectives are football fans, and treat Dean like the favorite son, clapping him on the back, and talking to him like they know him. I guess it takes the focus off of me, and Dean takes their over-enthusiasm in stride.