Page 81 of Just Ten Seconds

The cold rain against my warm skin is like a christening in November. I lean back with open arms to savor the wetness, lifting my head to the sky.

Dean is standing before me, soaked. His eyes are midnight, the signal of a new day. And from the way he’s looking at me, I would think something amazing is about to begin.

And maybe it has.

Maybe this is the reason I’m still alive.

A laugh rumbles out of my throat. I don’t know why I’m laughing. It could be because I’ve finally reached the tenth level of crazy, or maybe, just maybe, I’m finally starting to let go.

To my surprise, Dean laughs too. It’s as deep as a roar and comes right from his gut. I’ve heard him laugh but never like this. Never like he’s young and free and truly enjoying the moment.

When the heavens open up to an unbearable purge, we scramble back inside and quickly close the door, surprised that the weather changed so quickly even though it was expected.

My back is to the wall as my shoulders heave with my breaths. My pulse is rapid, and my chest is expanding with every gasp.

Dean runs his hand through his hair, pushing back the droplets. It’s so reminiscent of the first day we met when he stormed into the café with Amanda in his arms, looking for someone to help him. I had no idea he’d be the one to save me.

I didn’t expect him to walk into my life, and now that he’s here, I don’t know where I’d be without him. He’s charming and funny. A protector and guiding force.

And so damn handsome that I just can’t keep my eyes off of him.

He notices this too, because those midnight-blue eyes turn black as coal.

My chest throbs with my racing pulse. My wet hair is sending chills throughout my body as we stand here, facing each other. I meet his gaze, and something about the certainty of his expression sends a shudder through me.

It’s like a game of chicken. A silent dare to one another, waiting for the other to make the first move.

I bite my lip and let out the slightest of moans.

He loses.

With two quick steps, Dean is upon me, his lips crashing against mine as his fingers weave in my hair. I waste no time in wrapping my arms around his neck and give in to his kiss.

This kiss is not like one I’ve ever had before, like I’ve dreamed of. It’s steeped in passion and holds the promise of something genuine. Something real.

His hands lower to my hips, digging in to pull me close. I let my hands roam up his face, feeling the scruff of his jaw and savoring the roughness as his mouth moves down my neck.

His hands rest under my backside and lift me off the floor. I wrap my legs around him as he carries me to the bed, breaking our kiss to set me on the bed, leaving me breathless and waiting for more.

Dean falls to his knees and lays his forehead against my inner thigh. His back rises with jagged breaths.

“You’re not ready,” he says into my leg.

“I’m not,” I confirm, laying my hand on his head and feeling the silkiness of his hair. “But I want it anyway.”

His head pops up, his brows curved down and mouth parted.

I lean forward and place my lips against his. “I want you.” My voice is barely a whisper.

“I’m yours.” His voice is low and seductive.

With a shaky hand, I pull the zipper of my top. His pupils dilate as I pull the top off my shoulders. A groan sounds from his throat as his eyes roam over my swollen breasts busting out of my satin bra. With the deepest of breaths, I look deep into Dean’s eyes and remove the clasp of my bra, exposing myself to him.

“Meu Deus, tu és perfeita,” he says. “Quero enterrar-me dentro de ti e nunca mais sair.”

He grabs me by the back of the knees and yanks me into him. When my core rubs against his erection, I let out a whimper.

Our mouths are tangled again. My hands are under his shirt, gliding over his stomach. He breaks our kiss to remove his shirt. I lean back to take him in.