Paradise City

Two hours of sleep.

After I dropped James off at the airport, I came home and made myself dinner, and caught up on The Mindy Project. I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up two hours later. It was still early. I shut off the TV and sent James a quick message, letting him know to call or text whenever he touched down in Tennessee. I was only a little worried, and kept repeating to myself that everything was going to be fine and he'd land safely.

My legs hung over the foot of the bed.

I thought for a moment about what I was going to do with my night. I wasn't tired anymore, I was sick of reading and watching TV, and my apartment felt tragically empty now that James was gone. I stood up and made my way to the kitchen, rummaging through my cupboards, looking for something to munch on. Nothing seemed to catch my attention, though.

I caught a glimpse of my front door as I headed back towards my bedroom. I would've thought that Dean would have tried to come talk to me by now, but I hadn't seen him since earlier.

Talk to him, I heard James' voice in the back of my head.

I trudged into the bathroom, making sure I didn't have eyeliner and mascara lines all over my face; I totally did. After taking a wet washrag to my face, I stared at my reflection in the mirror; what in the world did Dean or anyone see in me?

This can wait until tomorrow, I told myself as I stood outside his door. It couldn't. What if he left tomorrow morning while I was sleeping? Another month of pretending to be mad, and snarky comments, and two minute phone calls. I couldn't keep that up.

My fist hit the door a few times, and a part of me hoped that he wasn't even home. As soon as I heard his heavy footsteps on the other side, I wanted to make a bolt for the elevator or my apartment, or something.

He looked less than thrilled to see me when he swung the door open. I, on the other hand, felt my heart quicken. He looked good; grey sweats, long sleeved t-shirt that fitted his arms beautifully, and a scruffy face. I could feel my hands itching to wrap themselves around his neck, but I quickly squashed the feeling.

"You know that guy you saw today? That was James." I didn't know what else to say. "You would have known that if you weren't being such an assho-"

I was cut short when he took one step forward and closed the space between us, ducking his head to meet my lips. For a split second I wanted him to whisk me away to his bedroom, where we could just fuck all of our problems away and forget that anything ever happened. But I was here because there was a problem that needed to be fixed, and it wasn't just going to be forgotten or go away by having some make up sex.

My hands pushed his chest, slowly easing him away from my lips.

"Don't." He whispered softly.

"I have to." I replied even softer.

I took a step around him into his dimly lit living room, and heard the door click shut behind me. Dean grabbed my hand and pulled me down on the couch next to him. As I thought of everything I had wanted to say to him, he laced his fingers with mine and kissed the tips of my fingers.

"Stop that, I can't think." I said, pulling my hand from his. "Why didn't you tell me what you told Seth and Roman?"

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know, Callie."

"You can't say 'I don't know', that's not an answer." I replied.

He sighed again. "I didn't want you to take it the wrong way. I didn't want to say 'Callie, we're having too much sex' or 'can we not have sex tonight', because I felt like you would think I meant something like 'I don't want to have sex with you ever again', because I do." He scratched the back of his neck. "I feel like an asshole, okay? I'm sorry. Sometimes I do stupid shit."

"Like sleep with someone else a few days after we have a fight?" I asked.

"I made a mistake. I make a lot of them. I don't know how to deal with things, and before I met you that was how I always dealt with my problems. I'd go find some random woman, get drunk, and take my mind off of whatever was bothering me." He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what to tell you other than I'm sorry and I fuckin' care about you more than I want to admit. I'm not a relationship guy. I never have been. I think my longest relationship was just under a couple months. I have no idea what I'm doing here, but I want to do it with you. I don't want you to be with anyone else, just me."

I let his words sink in, ruminating on every word. "Dean-"

"I know that I hurt you. Trust me, Callie, I never intended to. I don't think, sometimes." He paused. "And I know that you're scared. You're afraid of getting close to someone because you don't want to lose them. But you want to be with me, just as much as I want to be with you, and I think that you just need to take a chance."

How could I argue with him? He was right. I did want to be with him, and I believed him when he said that he wanted to be with me. There was nothing left to say. I simply nodded my head, and moved to straddle his waist. My lips met his in a delicate kiss, as every feeling I had been holding back came out front and center.

"For the record," he said against my lips. "I wasn't using you to claim your 'naive girl virginity'. I liked you way before that ever happened."

"You heard my conversation with James?" I asked, looking deep into those beautiful eyes.

"Thin walls, remember? He seems like a cool kid. He definitely cares about you, and he's in my corner, so I like him. When's he coming back?"

I shook my head and pressed a finger to his lips. "I don't want to talk."

I replaced my finger with my lips, and Dean stood up off of the couch, holding me tightly to him. No words needed to be said for what was going to happen next. He laid me down on his bed as softly as he could, and ran his hands up my sides underneath my tank top. His hands were cold, but his lips were warm against my neck. He pulled the shirt over my head and tossed it on the floor.

My shorts were off in seconds.

Dean just watched me for a second. I bit my lip a little nervously, wondering why he was stopping. I hadn't felt him in months. Even though I wanted that more than anything right now, if he decided that he wanted to savor this moment in another way, I would respect that. He dropped his head to the side, and teased his index finger around one of my nipples; hardening it under his touch.

"What?" I asked him, not meaning to sound as whiny as I did.

He had that look in his eyes again. I could see the lust and desire; but I felt like behind that look, there may have been admiration and possibly love. Dean shook his head, but his eyes never left mine. Not even when his hands began to trace lines down my stomach, stopping just above the elastic band of my underwear. I lifted my hips, allowing him to slide the fabric down my thighs.

His lips were on mine again in an instant, and they moved together so beautifully. My nails dug into his biceps. He had one hand squeezing my breasts, and the other rested on my hip. I arched my back. My body wasn't able to control how much it missed the feeling of him. His warm skin bearing down on mine and it felt like heaven.

Dean pulled his hand from my hip and began to tease my pussy. He let out a low moan upon feeling how wet I was for him already. My eyes rolled back, as a whimper escaped my lips. I placed my hand on his, guiding it, rubbing circles around my clit. He slid in a finger, and then two, pulling his mouth away from me to watch the way my body reacted to him. His hand left my breast and lightly pushed down on my throat, holding me in place as he finger-fucked me.

I began bucking my hips to his motions, and he knew I was close. He removed his fingers, hurriedly sliding them into his mouth, before wetting the tip of his cock. He held my legs together, holding them up in the air. I couldn't see it, but I could feel the tip of his cock pressing against my entrance. The sensation made my heart race. I watched him watching me as I pinched and pulled at my hard nipples, waiting for him to finally bury himself inside of me.

He didn't take his time. Dean immediately began moving his hips quickly into mine, holding onto my legs tightly with each thrust. My breasts bounced with the rhythm. I grasped on to them, squeezing them tightly as Dean quickened the pace. He let go of my legs, letting them fall to either side of him, and replaced his mouth on my lips.

His hands gripped the sheets beneath me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me.

"Fuck, Callie." He moaned.

Hearing him say my name sparked a hot feeling in my core, and I knew I was headed for the edge once more. He pulled at my earlobe with his teeth, sucking on it lightly. His breath tickled and I resisted the urge to giggle, instead I bit down on his shoulder. He let out another deep groan and slowed down his movements to a much deeper fuck. With each slow thrust, I could feel him rubbing against my cervix. I cursed his name, clawing at his skin. It was that intense, pleasurable pain that I had missed so much.

My breath was heavy. I pressed my mouth into his shoulder, causing it to muffle my loud moans. I could feel my hair sticking to the sweat on my forehead. It was a cold sweat; the overhead fan sent a cool breeze over our bodies, only adding to the many different sensations I was feeling. I sucked at Dean's collarbone as his body moved over mine. His arms began to shake, causing him to drop down to his elbows, and wrap his arms around me completely.

Having him this close, having him in my arms, I could never let him go.

"Cum for me, Callie."

I tried to say 'yes', but it only sounded like another loud moan. He didn't need to say another word as I let myself go. I felt like a balloon that had been filled with too much water and had finally burst.

"Fuck!" He growled, picking up his speed for the few seconds he had before he hit his climax.

He slowed down drastically, riding out his pleasure. My legs shook as the wave fizzled down to my curled toes. Our chests were heaving as we tried to catch our breath. A thick smell of sex and sweat and that vanilla candle he was burning filled the room. I smiled up at him, he was wrapping the sheets around his waist.

Dean let out a deep breath and then smiled at me. I went to pull the sheet over my shivering, naked frame, but he stopped me. I looked at him, clearly confused.

"I'm taking a mental picture."

I rolled my eyes and pulled the sheet over me anyways, turning on my side. He laid beside me, pulling me closer to him. I laced his fingers with mine, silently sending out a prayer that it would be like this from now on; no arguments, no silent treatment, no drama. Make up sex is great, but I never wanted to have to have it again.

Dean pressed his lips to my shoulder. "You're not going to lose me, Callie. I'm not going anywhere. Not unless you tell me to."

I smiled, though he couldn't see it. "You won't have to worry about that."