Summary: Jensen is on a business trip, Y/N is on a much-needed vacation. Though they both have plans for a quiet evening, whiskey and fate have a different idea.
Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Words: 7K
Warnings: Smut, Oral (giving), Drinking, NSFW, 18+ only
Square filled: Drunken Night5Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZl7UoKqELq
Originally posted by whiskeydean
The travel brochures had come in the mail over a week ago, but they still sat on the table, mocking you every time you walked by them. You had called the travel agent to cancel the request, now that there was no trip to plan, yet they came anyway. The feeling of disappointment over that fact alone was overwhelming. You slumped down into the kitchen chair and tossed the open envelope across the table. It was only a few weeks ago you started planning a weekend away. Sure, you could have researched it all online, but half the fun of planning your trip with your ex was sitting and looking through the brochures together. You sure as hell never thought that you’d be broken up by the time they arrived. But your ex was gone now. They were gone for good and honestly, it was for the best.
You had been doing fine until the stupid brochures showed up.
Peering at them from the corner of your eye, you felt enormously jealous of the people that got to go on vacation. You wanted to go. You wanted to spend a fun weekend somewhere that wasn’t home nor overly crowded, where you could just soak in the local atmosphere, no tourist traps, all while relaxing and just having some fun.
So, what if there was no one to go with. Your ex wasn’t exactly a good old time, wasn’t that one of the reasons things ended? Your eyes kept floating back to the brochures as your fingernails tapped anxiously against the top of your small kitchen table. You pulled your cell from your jeans pocket and dialed your best friend. A second opinion never hurt, and you could always rely on Jill to give it to you straight.
The call rang twice, and you heard the familiar tenor of her ‘work’ voice answer. Not wasting any time, you dove right in. “Hey, do you think I should go on this trip alone?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t you?” she replied without missing a beat, the sound of nails on the keyboard clacking away behind her. “I told you this when you kicked dumbass out. Go. Anyway. Hell, I’d go with you if I didn’t—”
“Yes, yes. I know. Saving the world one character at a time. Gotcha.”
“Bite me. But yes, if this deadline wasn’t looming I would be there. I promise you a trip to somewhere beachy and tropical in the Spring once this hellscape novel is finished. For now, go on the damn trip already!”
“Ok, fine.”
“I’m serious, Y/N. Go. Have some fun and then tell me all about it. Unfortunately, I gotta run, I got Chester locked up in a bad escape attempt and gotta figure out how to free him before Evie returns with the compass that will surely kill him… or not. Honestly, I haven’t decided yet.”
“This is why I love being friends with a writer. You always keep life interesting,” you chuckled and reached for the brochures. “I’ll let you go. I guess I have a trip to plan. Oh, and Jill? Don’t kill Chester. I need him to live to turn Evie back to good so they can finally be together.”
“Stop trying to push your ships on me, woman! Call me when you get back.”
With that, the call ended, and you began to sort through the few options that were in front of you. Throwing aside the ones your ex had asked for specifically, you focused on the two you’d really wanted to try out – Lynchburg, Tennessee, or St. Augustine, Florida. Pursuing through both, you realized St. Augustine was much better for a couple’s retreat, rather than a single trip. You only had three days, and a tour of the Jack Daniel’s Distillery and Lynchburg, Tennessee seemed like an adventure you could use right now.
Picking up your phone again, you made the call to the travel agent and told her to book you a weekend in Lynchburg, with all the top-notch amenities and transportation. You were going to enjoy every second of this trip even if it was by yourself.
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The following weekend, you found yourself standing in the lobby of a beautiful hotel only a stone’s throw from the Lynchburg town proper. Once you were checked into your room, you wanted to freshen up, change your clothes and head downstairs to get something to eat. After the world’s best shower, you put on your cutest, most casual outfit fixed your hair and makeup, and took one last look in the mirror.
Taking a deep breath, you felt your nerves start to rise and decided to give yourself a pep talk. “You look great, you’re going to have a great time, and no one will say anything to you about dining alone. If they do, you own it and just enjoy every second.” Giving your reflection your most confident smile, you left the room and went down to the restaurant.
The place was crowded and slightly loud, but you were starving and didn’t feel like leaving hotel grounds for food. Once at the hostess stand, you surveyed the dining room and saw no open tables. To your right were at least fifteen to twenty people sitting around and waiting for a seat. When the hostess returned, she told you the only way you’d be eating in that restaurant would be to wait two hours or choose from the limited bar menu and eat there. You offered a polite thank you, sighed, and made your way to the bar.
There was one empty seat in the corner near where the waitstaff would pick up their table drink orders. It was a courtesy spot, and you were sure you’d receive a dirty look from each server that had to be courteous of your sitting there. But, it was the only seat, so you took it. Twenty minutes went by before a bartender even looked your way, and you were starting to regret taking the trip at all.
You finally caught his eye and he reluctantly walked over. “What can I get you?”
“A Jack and Coke, and a menu, please.”
He was instantly frustrated. “Lady, the bar menu is really small, and you’re better off waiting for a table. Bar food is backed up at least an hour.”
“Just the drink, please,” you mumbled and reached into your purse to slap down your money.
He put down the glass, took your bill, and made the change before jumping down the line to the next customer. The smell of the food was intoxicating. For a hotel restaurant, everything that passed by your nose was something you wanted to devour. The line by the door was growing instead of shrinking, so you were going to just finish your drink and go raid the mini-fridge in your room.
Fate had other plans.
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Jensen grabbed his phone from the end of the bed and saw the missed call from Jared. He knew without even reading the follow-up text that he was stuck in Austin and wouldn’t be making the trip. He wasn’t angry, Jared had his own business to take care of, not to mention a wife and kids. Jensen didn’t.
Throwing himself into opening a place of his own was the goal, and one of the steps he wanted to take was touring a variety of breweries before making big decisions on a business plan. The show took up most of his time, but much like his best friend, he needed something to help fill his other aspirations. Why not a brewery of his own?
He paused at the mirror before leaving his hotel room and cringed when he caught sight of himself. He was still wearing his frayed jeans from the day before, and the blue button-down dress's shirt looked like something he pulled from the back of his closet and wore for a week straight. He groaned and rubbed a hand over his two-week-old stubble.
“Dude, you look like shit,” he chastised his reflection. “Shower, maybe?” Glancing at his watch he saw the time and knew he’d miss his reservation downstairs if he took the time to freshen up. Though, he also knew they would keep it for him. Taking off the baseball cap, he flung it on the bed and decided to chance it and go shower but opted to leave the beard. It gave him better cover when out in public and that was something he was looking forward to that weekend, a bit of anonymity. It was a business trip, after all, not an event for the show.
Jensen showered and dressed in record time. Deciding simply on a pair of dark blue jeans, and a white button-down dress's shirt, with the sleeves, rolled up and his favorite pair of boots, he gave himself one last look in the mirror.
Satisfied with his appearance, he went to open the door and paused. Stepping back in front of the mirror, he looked again and forced a smile. “Eating alone is fine, man, relax. Nothing to get weird about. It’s just dinner then back to the room for a good night’s sleep and a busy day tomorrow. Just a quick side trip then back to business in Vancouver, where everything feels right with the world.”
With that, he straightened the collar of his shirt and headed down to the restaurant, fully prepared for a quiet meal in a dimly lit corner of a hotel bar.
But, as it usually goes… fate had other plans.
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You were just about to leave the bar when you saw an empty table hidden in the furthest corner of the room. Hanging back for another ten to fifteen minutes, you watched to see if anyone was going to be sat there. There was a small white sign on it that said, Reserved, but no one seemed to be walking towards it. Another ten minutes later, you decided to try and claim it as your own. After all, what was the worst that could happen?
As you approached the table, you turned your head casually over each shoulder and saw no one watching. Slipping into a chair that faced out towards the room, you smiled to yourself as you took one of the menus and started looking through the choices.
Just as you got to the entrees section, you heard a woman clear her throat and could feel her staring down at you.
“Excuse me, ma’am, this is not your table. This table was clearly marked reserved.”
You closed the menu and chuckled nervously as you looked up at her. It wasn’t the same hostess you spoke to, but she was clearly annoyed as deeply as you were embarrassed.
“I—I’m so sorry,” you started and noticed a very good-looking man standing behind her. His arms were crossed over his chest, but he wasn’t angry or annoyed. In fact, you thought he looked amused.
He let the situation play out for a moment and spoke up. “No, no, she’s fine,” he said and gave you a wink, “she’s a friend. The last-minute change of plans I won’t be dining alone.”
“Oh my—I’m so sorry Mr. Ross,” she said to him then turned to you, “Please, accept my apologies, Miss.”
You played along, albeit nervously, but still went with his diversion. “Not a problem, honest mistake,” you said, waving her off.
She nodded, left the drink menu on the table, and quickly scurried off. You saw and watched nervously as the man pulled out his seat and joined you at the table. His eyes were bright in the dimly lit room and though they were fixed intently on you, it didn’t make you uncomfortable.
“I am so sorry for taking your table. I was just starving, and the place was so crowded, the bartender was a dick—”
“Whoa, whoa. It’s not a problem. Honest. Let’s just start with your name, and then tell me why the bartender was a dick.”
You snorted a laugh and sat forward in your seat, your hand stretched out across the table. “I’m Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/N, I’m Jensen,” he said with a smile. “I don’t have a dinner guest tonight, so you are more than welcome to share the table.”
“Are you sure? That’s not too weird, or anything?”
“No, I don’t mind at all. Besides, seems like maybe you’ve had a bit of a rough night. Waiting for a table when you’re hungry is the worst. Plus, a douchey bartender…” he sucked in air through his teeth and leaned back, picking up a menu, “if anything, this calls for some drinks.”
“Jensen, I couldn’t agree more.”
The drinks came first, then a round of appetizers and salads. By the time your entrees came, you were well into your third whiskey sour and he on his fourth straight up. The food was helping to maintain a level of intoxication that allowed you to be fun and less stiff than you’d normally be eating and conversing with a stranger, but still maintain your composure. The conversation was light and easy, nothing about work, relationships, or the meaning of life. He was fun to talk to and had one of the most radiant smiles you’d ever seen.
When the waitress put your entrees down, you and Jensen shared a look of disbelief at the size of the plate in front of you. She offered to refresh your drinks and before you could refuse, he said yes for both of you.
“I really shouldn’t,” you said once she left.
“Shouldn’t try and eat that massive meal, or have another drink?”
You consider it for a second. “Mmm, both.”
“Big day tomorrow?”
“Not terribly. I’m here on vacation, so it’s a relaxing day. Going to take a tour of the distillery at some point. Otherwise, some browsing downtown, museums, shopping.”
“By yourself?”
You nodded and poked at the food in front of you. “Enough about me. What brings you to town this weekend?”
“Work, kind of,” he said before shoveling a fork full of vegetables into his mouth.
“Kind of?”
“I’m thinking of opening a brewery back home in Texas with a buddy of mine. So, I’m here doing some recon. My buddy was supposed to join me, but he got held up, so it’s just me.”
“I’m sorry he couldn’t come, but I gotta say, that’s pretty cool. So, is that what you do? You’re a professional brewmaster? Bar connoisseur or something like that?” you asked playfully.
“Not even close,” Jensen replied and wiped his face with his napkin. “That’s a side business. My day job… well…” he shrugged again, trying to blow it off. But now you were curious about him and had just enough to drink to be brazen enough to nudge him about it.
“Come on, tell me. What’s your day job?”
He narrowed his eyes at you as if he was debating on sharing highly classified information with you that could change the world. “I’m just a director,” he relented and shrugged.
“Well damn, certainly didn’t expect you to say that,” you mused and leaned back when the waitress delivered the next round. “Anything I would know?”
“Probably not,” he chuckled, but it was more to himself. “Little things here and there on television. Nothing to write home about.”
“Ah, gotcha. I don’t watch much tv, but if you tell me what you directed, I’ll go find it online—”
“No, it's fine,” he said and raised his glass to yours. “Let’s just toast to getting to know new friends.”
“Here here!” you said and touched your glass to his. As you both brought the glass to your lips, your eyes locked. The way his sharp green eyes dug into you, caused you to shift uncomfortably in your chair. He’d been friendly all night, but also very courteous and respectful. At that moment, though, you felt so much energy coming off him, it was hard not to be affected in any way.
“So, uh, Y/N… I don’t know if I should ask you or not, but how come you’re here alone?”
“Because I wanted a weekend getaway. Not too far to travel, but still somewhere different. And, the person I was planning to take—well—let’s just say that I am better off being here alone and without them in my life.”
“Their loss is my gain,” he mumbled with a smirk, then quickly tried to correct himself. “I just mean that I’m sorry that you had to deal with that, but you being here alone means I have the most enjoyable dinner companion I’ve had in a long time.” He winked and that cemented it. You didn’t think he was just handsome, he was sexy as hell.
A rush of heat filled your core as you quickly looked down at your plate. The whiskey and his compliments were making you feel a certain way; much bolder and more promiscuous than you normally would be. The more you stared at him from across the dimly lit table, the more you wanted to bring him back upstairs. The inner dialogue and argument had already started, about how wrong that is, and how stupid you would be to have a one-nighter with a stranger in a bar. Thankfully whatever was left of your logical side quickly shot it all to hell. For all you know, the guy is married or dating someone. OR, hey, here’s an idea, stupid. Maybe he’s just not that into you.
Shaking it off, you decided just to ask him. “Jensen, I want to ask you a question, but I don’t mean to be too forward.”
“Shoot.”
“Are you married, or dating—”
“No, I am neither of those things,” he smiled and laid down his fork. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I’ve had more than a few drinks and now I’m being nosey,” you giggled and took a small sip of your drink.
Jensen pushed his plate away and rested both elbows on the table, and laced his fingers together. “I don’t think I can eat another bite. You?”
“No,” you shook your head slightly and pushed yours away as well. “Honestly, some fresh air sounds amazing right now.”
“Yes ma’am, I agree with that,” he chuckled, his gaze firmly locked with yours. “Let me get the check, hit the restroom, and I’ll meet you out on the patio if you, uh, you know… wanna maybe have another drink and just…” he trailed off and shrugged, his expression a bit chased and unsure, but hopeful.
“Sounds perfect,” you smiled and reached into your purse for your card.
Jensen waved you off, “It’s already done, put it away.” He stood up from the table and came around to your chair. He pulled it out gently for you as you stood up and took your hand in his.
There was an actual electrical shock that jumped between your fingers when he touched you. Whether it was static from the carpet or just the energy between you, it was exciting. He was exciting. He lifted the back of your hand to his lips and left a lingering kiss there. “See you out there.”
As you watched him turn and exit through the rear door of the bar, you were scrambling through your purse for your cell phone. The minute it was in your hand and unlocked, you dialed Jill and prayed she was still awake.
“I love you, but you are becoming co-dependent,” she answered groggily.
“I know, I’m a dick, but I met someone. Help me.”
“Help you… how?”
“I don’t know… talk me out of this. Tell me I am being stupid.”
“I need details first.”
“Fine. We shared a table for dinner. He is sexy as hell and there were copious amounts of whiskey involved so far.”
“So far?”
“Yes,” you whispered loudly as you made your way through the restaurant and out towards the patio. “Now we finished dinner and are having more drinks outside and… oh my god…”
“What now?”
“This patio is beautiful. There are a fire pit and soft lighting, and it's empty of course. Live band in the piano bar that’s playing out here too… We are gonna sit out here alone and drink—” you could feel yourself suddenly nervous at the idea of him coming back out to meet you as your breathing became shallower.
“Ok, first of all, chill. Remember to breathe. You’re single now, right?”
“Yes.”
“Him?”
“Yes.”
“Then who fucking cares? Have FUN. Stop questioning everything and follow your instincts. Have another drink, get your flirt on, and if you wake up next to this guy in the morning, sneak a pic so I can live vicariously through you.”
You laughed and felt yourself begin to calm down. Taking in a deep breath, you exhaled slowly. “Thank you, I’m just nervous. I haven’t… ever in my life, do something like this.”
“I know, but now you are out living your life so you will have these new experiences. Stop worrying and just go with it. But, be safe, and bail if you feel uncomfortable at any time. Also, seriously, I need a text in the morning so I know you’re alive.”
“Ok, you got it.”
“Go have sex. I’m going back to bed now, seething with jealousy and pretending that this old man of mine is a sexy stranger I bet in a bar. Byyeeee.”
“Night,” you fake groaned, and shook your head, but kept your phone in hand and opened the text messages to her name just in case you needed more reassurance. You sat in one of the rockers and thought about the stranger who suddenly became your dinner date.
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“Will you just calm down you idiot,” Jensen again chastised his reflection, but this time in the mirror in the men’s restroom. He stopped speaking out loud when two other guys came in and continued washing his hands while holding an inner palaver.
She doesn’t know who you are, man, and she still seems into you. I mean, it feels like it. It’s been a while since you’ve met anyone that didn’t just want you for being Dean or because of the show. Just take it slow, talk, have a few drinks… see how it goes. But don’t be stupid. Be careful.
He turned off the faucet and grabbed the paper towel to dry his hands. As his fingers twirled the towel around, he couldn’t stop thinking about the girl on the patio. He’d never had an encounter like this before, and he found himself really turned on by it. Sure, she was beautiful, but it was more than that. It was the way her eyes narrowed when she laughed, the way she nervously tucked and untucked the hair behind her ear. It was the way her face lit up when she was talking about something she enjoyed or how she watched him talk about the same things.
Jensen tossed the towel into the garbage can, and slowly exited the bathroom. He could see her out there, pacing around talking to someone on the phone and just hung back a moment. He saw her laugh and felt a slight tug at his heart. He liked her. A lot.
“Dammit,” he mumbled to himself when the realization hit. Then, somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard the same inner voice growl, Just be careful, you stupid sonofabitch.
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Still fiddling nervously with your phone, you greeted him with a large grin when he stepped back out onto the patio. Right behind him was your waitress, carrying a tray with a bottle of Gentleman Jack and two glass tumblers with ice.
“Phoning a friend?” he asked curiously as he sat on the rocker beside you. The waitress smiled as she placed the bottle and glasses on the table between the rockers, before leaving and closing the doors behind her.
“Actually, yeah,” you replied with a nervous snicker, “she’s sorta my go-to for everything. I’m sure she’s one hundred percent sick of me right now, but—”
“Buuut?” his eyes were shimmering impishly as he went about pouring you each a drink.
“But… I—I shouldn’t call her again,” you replied nervously and put your phone back into your pocket. “She’s on deadline and I’ve called her like a dozen times in the last few days alone. If I call her again, she may write me into her novels, just to kill me off.”
“She’s a writer? What’s her name, maybe I’ve heard of her,” he sat back against the plush cushion and sipped at his whiskey.
“Well, she writes under two names. S.N. Scott and Willow Bainbridge.”
“Why two names?”
“She’s a really diverse author, but when you become successful in one genre they tend to pigeonhole you to that. She wanted to branch out, hence the two names.”
“Bainbridge… that’s actually familiar,” Jensen groaned slightly, reaching for a memory that was just out of reach. He remembered what he wanted, and his face flushed red at the recollection. “I do know her… she’s, uh, effective.”
Now you were the one smiling impishly. “Which did you read?”
“Long Cool Summer,” he mumbled and immediately brought the whiskey to his lips to hide the embarrassing smirk he wore.
“One of my favorites. Especially the scene on the beach…” you raised your own glass in a salute before taking a drink, and feeling your face flush, too. “I’m sort of surprised, didn’t think many guys read her softer stuff… Sci-fi, sure, but Long Cool Summer?”
“Hey, I’m a softie at heart, alright? Besides, my sister left it at my place and I had nothing to read. And yeah, that beach scene…. Oof,” he fanned himself and laughed uncomfortably. “That can give a guy some ideas.”
Before you could retort, the music from the piano bar came streaming out onto the patio. It wasn’t just any song, it was a cover of Jeff Healey’s Angel Eyes, further creating an ambiance that enhanced the mood that was developing between you. There was a moment of awkward silence, which Jensen felt too, but instead of giving in to it, he decided to change it.
Jensen gulped down the rest of his drink, placed the glass on the table, and reached out a hand to you. “Come on.”
You gave in without question, and let him pull you into a loose embrace, one arm around your waist, the other still holding your hand and resting it against his chest.
“I’m not a great dancer,” you mumbled, trying to move with him. “I’m all left feet.”
Leaning down to your ear, he whispered, “Guess it’s a good thing I’m all right feet.”
You snorted a laugh, and when you saw his expression again, you melted a little at the dreamy smile he wore as he gazed down at you. The awkward silence grew again, but Jensen staved it off as he began to sing along with the song.
His voice was too much to handle. It was rich and smooth, yet still gritty and full of emotion as he shifted between singing and humming along. You caught sight of him, his eyes were closed, and he was lost in the moment with you. With each step, he would tighten his grip around your waist; with each verse, his lips were close to your ear and you wanted nothing more than to just give in and kiss him first.
“Jensen,” you rasped, not wanting to break the spell, but had the need to know where this was all heading.
“Hmmm?”
“Why did you invite me to join you? Why are we out here now, dancing like two kids at the prom? We don’t know each other. I’m just some random girl who tried to steal your reserved table.”
He didn’t stop dancing with you, but he did finally open his eyes. “I didn’t want to eat alone, and I got the impression from your attempted takeover that you’d be a fun company. As for this… I just didn’t want the night to be over.”
“Me either. I have to say though, the whiskey’s made me brave. I wouldn’t normally…” you trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence without making things more awkward.
“Spend the night with a guy you don’t know?”
“Yeah, exactly.”
“We can just enjoy the company and the music, there are no expectations here, Y/N. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like you, but I’ll happily walk you back to your room, and say goodnight with a handshake if that’s where this goes. Is that why you called your friend?”
“Mhm, she usually gives it to me straight, helps me sort things out.”
“And what was her recommendation?” he asked, the reflection of the flickering lanterns caught in his eyes, making them twinkle with goldish-green illumination. You didn’t realize how easily you could get lost in them until now.
“She said to stop thinking so much and enjoy the evening.”
“I like this friend,” he mused with a smirk.
The music faded and transitioned into something more modern and slightly obnoxious. Your bodies stopped swaying with the music, but his arms didn’t let you go right away. Your gaze lingered longer than it should have and there was no doubt about his intentions.
“You wanna get out of here or…?”
“Or, what?” you asked, your voice cracking with nerves.
“Call it a night.”
“I don’t want that at all,” you smiled but could feel yourself needing another whiskey. “I’d love another drink, but, maybe we can go upstairs?”
“God, yes,” he growled, finally letting you go and grabbing the bottle of whiskey. You went to grab the glasses, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the doors. “Leave ‘em, I got more upstairs.”
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You were giggling all the way through the bar and into the hallway near the lobby as Jensen relentlessly guided you through the swarms of people. Once you made it to the elevator bank, his arm was firmly around your shoulders and his fingers were impatiently tapping against your skin while you waited for the elevator. When the doors opened, he pulled you inside causing you to trip and nearly fall face first. Thankfully he caught you just in time and had his own little burst of drunk laughter as the doors slid closed.
“Are we too drunk for this?” he asked, helping you to be steady on your feet.
“I’m not,” you said, no longer caring about what people would think. You liked him. You wanted him, and you wanted this to happen. His lips were too enticing to wait for the elevator to reach its destination, so you reached up and kissed him.
They were just as full and soft as they looked all night long, and once you started, it was hard to stop. Given how much whiskey had been consumed, you were amazed at your own restraint when it came to how softly he was kissing you. It wasn’t as if he were trying to be gentle or chased, but slower and with more intention. He wanted to savor every second but was nearly unable to hold himself back. You followed his lead and found that you loved simply kissing him. It made the excitement of what lay ahead even more enticing.
The elevator stopped on the top floor, and a soft bell rang when the doors slid open. There was no one standing on the other side, which was good for Jensen given his current situation. The moment you reached his hotel room door, he gently pressed against your chest with his free hand and held out the whiskey bottle. “Hold this for a second.”
You took the bottle, but never took your eyes off him, nor him from you. He started sifting through his pockets looking for the key card but came up empty at first. “It's here, I swear it is,” he laughed, then just stopped looking for it. He leaned in to kiss you again placing both hands on either side of you trapping you against the door. Pressing his body against you, you reached around with your one free hand to his back jeans pocket. He felt your hand slip into it and smile through his kiss. “That impatient, huh?”
You laughed and shook your head. “No, ya drunk, it’s the only pocket you didn’t check.” You slid the keycard from the back pocket and held it out to him.
“Beautiful and smart as a whip, even while intoxicated. I think I hit the jackpot,” he teased and raised a suggestive brow at you.
Jensen opened the door and let you in first. You placed the bottle down on the counter near the small kitchenette in his suite. You wandered around for a minute, taking in the view he had from his room, while he emptied his wallet and cell phone out of his pockets.
“Wow,” you whispered breathlessly, taking in the view of the moonlit river that stretched out in the distance.
Jensen came up from behind you and snaked his arms around your waist, gently caressing your abdomen as he began kissing your neck in the same slow-burning way he did in the elevator.
Your eyes fluttered shut, and you rolled out your neck to give him better access, which elicited a guttural reaction from deep in his chest. His fingers began pulling at your shirt, cautiously tugging at the material, freeing it from where it was snagged on the hem, and exposing your flesh to his hands. That was the spark that ignited the fumes in the air, leaving you unable to turn back.
“Jesus Christ,” you mewed as you felt his teeth grazing against your ear.
“Are you sure you wanna stay?” he asked, his voice was rough and full of hope that you were going to say yes. His lips hovered over you until he heard your answer.
“More than anything,” you whispered, and turned in his arms to face him.
“Still want that drink?”
“Nope, I have something else in mind now,” you gave him a knowing look, and playfully pushed him back towards the bed.
He found the edge and sat down, watching you intently. As you walked towards him, you began to slowly remove your clothes, leaving on only your bra and underwear. Jensen sat up and when you were within reach, he ran his hands down your nearly naked sides and drew you in, kissing you just above the hem of your silky bottoms. His hands moved around to your back and slowly moved down the soft swell of your ass. He tried to pull down the fabric, but you stopped him.
“Not yet,” you purred lifting his chin up to look at you. “Not yet.”
You knelt down before him and quickly freed him of his boots and jeans. You could see the length of him through his boxers and roughly ran your hand up the length of his rock-hard shaft, adding just the slightest bit of pressure. Jensen moaned and laid back on the bed with his eyes squeezed shut. You gingerly slid down his boxers, adding them to the discarded pile, and grabbed his cock with both hands.
He moaned again, and you could tell he was holding back from making you take him into your mouth. You loved that he was showing restraint and not giving in to his primal instincts, but you also wanted him to be rough. The idea of him taking control was turning you on more and more. You kissed the tip of his dick and teased him there with your tongue. You felt his hands tangled in your hair, and as he gently nudged you to go further.
You wrapped your lips around him and methodically began sliding your mouth up and down the length of cock; his breathing becoming more pronounced the longer you went on. After a couple of minutes, he couldn’t take the wait anymore. He sat up on the bed and grabbed your face with his hands. Jensen kissed you deeply before pulling you on top of him and running his hand across your breasts.
“Take it off,” he demanded through gritted teeth as he began to unbutton his shirt.
“Yes, sir,” you purred and unhooked your bar then slipped off your silky pink underwear. You stood before him, completely nude and alternated between feeling vulnerable and sexy.
Jensen took your hand and guided you onto the bed, his eyes on you the entire time. “You’re so God-damned beautiful,” he mused, and he pulled you down, so you were straddling his lap. His hand slipped between your thighs and against the warmth of your clit. The sensation elicited a euphoric whimper as he went further into your folds, letting his fingers explore every inch of you.
As you slowly swayed on top of him, he had your nipple between his tongue and teeth, and the fingers of his other hand firmly gripped into the flesh on your hip. It had been a long time since anyone had touched you the way he was, and with each flick of his finger, you felt more desperate to have all of him.
You bent your head down to his neck, and traced the outside of his ear with your tongue, grazing your teeth along the lobe, and purred “I want you… I don’t care how, I don’t care how rough, but I need you to fuck me, now.”
“Whiskey really does something to ya? Huh?” he teased.
“You have no idea…”
Taking it upon yourself, you sat up on his lap and re-positioned yourself over him, sliding back down and allowing him to slowly thrust up into you. You both gripped the other tighter as the sensation of his cock filled you.
“Holy… fuck, Jens—”
He growled and began to move faster into you while his hand was pulling your hair forcing your head back. The mild bit of discomfort from it only added to your lust and made you want to scream for him. He wanted you to scream for him.
Without warning, he quickly stood up and flipped you over on the bed face first, grabbed your hips, and raised them up. Lining himself up, he entered you again sharply, followed by hard and quick thrusts. He slid in and out of you with such ease and with every pass you felt yourself closer to climax. The sound of skin on skin, filled the room, along with both of your murmurs of more, harder, baby… please.
He pulled you up, so your back was against him. Jensen reached around you with both arms, one hand on your clit massaging it gently as his other hand played with your nipple. His breath was ragged and hot on your neck, both of you covered in a thin layer of sweat and wreaking of whiskey.
He moaned your name in quiet whispers as he fucked into you, and when his movements became erratic, you knew he was close, and you were unable to hold back any more.
“Fuuuuck! Christ… Jensen… oh my—GOD,” you cried out, unable to hold back.
A guttural growl permeated his lips when he heard you call out his name, and when he felt your walls flutter around him he withdrew quickly knowing he was going to cum. His lips clamped down on your shoulder, muffling his scream as his release coated the comforter beneath you. He gripped you tight against his chest, lingering that way even after he was done.
The two of you were melded together, breathing and just enjoying the moments after an intense shared experience. When you finally felt him peel away, you were more than a little disappointed. He felt so good against your skin, thankfully, he didn’t go far.
“Are you alright?” he asked softly, running a finger along the slick lines of your collarbone.
“Yes,” you sighed, feeling completely satisfied at that moment. “You?”
Jensen snorted a laugh, “Yeah, I’m good. You are a force of nature, woman.”
He moved off the bed, and once you did as well, he tossed aside the soiled layer of bedding and pulled back the sheets for you to lay down. “Care to stay for a while?” he asked, nodding towards the pillows. “I don’t hate the sound of a second performance, after a little rest and maybe some minibar snacks.”
You giggled as you crawled into the king-size bed. “Snacks? Didn’t you just eat a massive steak downstairs? Not to mention a bottle of whiskey?”
Jensen laid down beside you and pulled the covers up just to your hips. His fingers traced down your shoulders and around the curves of your breasts. “What can I say? I worked up an appetite.”
“Well then, if you want to ride this ride again, I guess maybe you should have some snacks,” you teased and wiggled your eyebrows. “Certainly want you to have all your strength.”
“Oh, I’ll have a snack alright. Get over here,” he growled playfully and rolled over on top of you. Instead of immediately enacting the second performance (of which there would be many acts that night) he paused, just hovering over you.
“It was the singing, wasn’t it? Wasn’t the whiskey at all. I got you with the song, right?”
You rolled your eyes and smacked his arm. He ignored you and started singing again but more animated and cornier than before.
“You’re as smooth, as Tennessee Whiskey…. You’re as sweet as strawberry wine…” he sang, squeezing his eyes tight, and singing out of tune.
“No… oh my God, stop it!” you laughed and though you pretended to be tortured by it, you found yourself loving every second you spent with him.
You didn’t want the night to end. You didn’t want the morning to come and spoil everything. But yet, somewhere deep inside, you knew it would. Somehow.
Fate always has a different plan.
ns 172.70.131.168da2
and then Add to home screen.