21. Chad
CHAPTER 21
Chad
I think I’m in the twilight zone.
But even as the thought crosses my mind, I can’t bring myself to pull away. I cling to Dean like he’s a lifeline. Maybe he is. His arms are still around me, his breath warm against the side of my neck, and somehow it feels like the only thing keeping me grounded. How did this happen? How did I let myself drop my walls around him again?
I thought with the taunting and smart remarks, I’d keep him at a distance. Make him too frustrated to get close, to break through. But I should’ve known better. He broke through my defenses when we were teens. Why would it be different now?
And that’s the problem, isn’t it?
My feelings for him... they never went away. All these years, no matter how hard I tried to bury them, they’ve been there, simmering beneath the surface. Always just out of reach but never fully gone. Because Dean is my scent match. The one I’m destined for, even if neither of us wants to admit it.
Even if we both fight it.
I breathe him in, and the undeniable truth hits me harder than ever. Dean’s musk—it stirs something deep inside me. It makes me forget why I was walking alone on the road to town. It makes me forget why this is a bad idea.
And this time when I pull back to look at him, I don’t wait for him to kiss me. My mouth crashes into his, teeth slightly bumping, causing a bite of pain for a moment before our tongues are dancing. My fingers run into his hair, tugging him closer at the same time I practically climb the console to get into his lap.
My pheromones fill the space, and he groans into my mouth. A desperate sound. My hands run down over his shoulders, down to the hem of his shirt before I’m breaking away from him long enough to yank it over his head. Then I tear mine off frantically and toss it to the side. I need to feel his skin against mine. He hits the recline on his seat and drags me back with him, taking my weight. Settling my legs on either side of his hips.
Is this happening? Fuck yes it is. I’ve dreamt of this. Tried to imagine what it would have been like if his dad didn’t show up that night. If betas didn’t separate us. But none of it compares to this.
His length’s so hard beneath me, his knot already threatening to expand. I rub against him, unabashedly, loving the friction our bodies make and the way his skin glides against mine. I want more.
My fingers go to the button of his jeans, and I pop it free, his zipper sliding down from the force of his dick alone. My stomach dips with anticipation. My own cock straining behind my jeans.
He breaks off our kiss with a gasp. “Wait,” he says, pausing my movements. “This isn’t what that was about, I wasn’t trying?—”
I grin down at him. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t want to fuck me?”
His hips lift up into me, and it gives me my answer without his following words. “It’s literally all I’ve been able to think about since you came back.”
Music to my ears.
Running my fingers along the band of his jeans, I tug at the material, my gaze steady on his. Letting him know without words that this is happening. His hands go to the button of my jeans and have it undone within seconds. He lifts me up and tugs my jeans and boxers down, leaning forward a bit to force them to my ankles. Then his fingers wrap around my cock, and I see stars.
Fuck. His touch. Slick leaks from my crown and ass.
He strokes up my length, gathering the slick on the tip of his finger before bringing it to his lips and groaning around the digit as he sucks it clean. And I almost lose it right then. The image of him beneath me, my slick on his tongue.
“Fuck you taste amazing,” he moans. His eyes are heavy lidded with pure lust.
Shifting slightly, I shove his jeans down, his dick bobbing up between us as he lifts his hips to let me push them further down.
I lean forward and kiss him again; he sucks at my lower lip, nipping slightly as I pull back to stroke him. He works me from root to tip, dripping my slick along his length and making a mess of my fingers, as they glide over his silky skin.
Using one hand, I lean over him, my other wrapped around him and guiding him between my legs. His swollen tip nudges my slick-coated ass before sliding in with ease. My legs shake, and I sink further onto him, stretching myself wide.
Our moans fill the small space, as lights from passing cars light up the interior for brief seconds. It makes everything more , the feelings and sensations, it’s almost too much .
If I thought him touching me was bliss, this right here is so much more. My entire body vibrates with pure need. I lower myself until I feel his knot bump against me, then I rock forward. His eyes drop shut, and he looks like he’s half in pain from the pleasure he’s giving me.
I nip along his collar bone, and he thrusts up into me, taking control, his hand around my cock tightening and dragging up at the same time, matching his motion. It doesn’t take much before he’s tensing beneath me, and I’m coming all over his stomach. And my teeth ache to sink into his neck and claim him as my own alpha.
The thought has me detaching from him—thank god he didn’t knot—and scrambling clumsily to my own seat. Pulling my jeans back on at the same time. I don’t dare look at him. I can’t see him like that. With my essence all over his stomach and dick. Everything I ever wanted as a teen.
I pop open his glove box looking for napkins or something to toss at him so he can clean himself up. But he hasn’t moved a muscle, and I can feel his eyes on me.
Grabbing a stack of tan napkins, I put them on the console between us.
“Chad…” he says softly, unmoving, “Look at me.”
My jaw works, and I inhale the dangerous mix of our scents. It clings to me, and I’m positive it will never be out of my lungs. And I’m not sure I want it to be.
“Chad,” he says again. This time when he moves, sits up, I can feel the shift in the air.
“Wow,” I breathe out the word slowly. I need to play this off. Before my entire world crumbles and I beg him for more than this right here. “You've really got a way of apologizing. And making an omega forget his worries.”
“Look at me damn it!” he demands, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down my spine.
Steadying myself, I paste on an easy smile before turning to look at him, but my breath catches in my lungs before slowly leaking out of me. His dark eyes settle on my face while mine travel over his still exposed skin.
“You don't get to do that,” he says, and for a moment, I'm not sure what he means. Until our eyes meet and hold. “Don’t act like this was nothing.”
The passion and determination shining from his eyes has me shifting uncomfortably. I swallow, my tongue darting out over my lips. It’s the hope that fills me that has me blurting out my next words.
“You can drop me off at the coffee shop.”
Something flashes across his face, it's akin to pain or frustration, but his jaw sets, and he grabs the napkins like they offend him and cleans himself off. Then tucks himself away and tugs on his shirt with almost mechanical movements. But I don't take the words back, I can't.