Page 9 of Dean (Unexpected #9)

CHAPTER NINE

AVERY

Ben’s acting weird and I think I know why. Well, I’m not completely certain, but I have a good idea. Mostly.

It could just be a conspiracy theory on my part, one that I conjured up when I saw how Cash and Ford look at him sometimes. And I could be totally wrong, but I think he’s getting some.

From someone.

Someone who knows Dean.

Or two someones. Like I said earlier, Ford and Cash are out to get him and I wonder if they know they’re both after the same guy. Or maybe they’re tag-teaming. And Ben, well shit, he’s got to feel guilty about it. Those are his dad’s best friends.

I mean, I sure as fuck would feel bad…mostly.

Probably not, honestly.

But then again, I have the moral compass of a demon, apparently.

I do want Ben to like me though. I really do. I don’t want him upset that I am crushing on his dad. The chances of Dean going for me are slim to none though, so there’s nothing really to worry about .

I just slept in his bed last night. Nothing else happened. Nothing ever will happen.

“Do you have any idea why Ben’s acting like that?” Dean asks, and I jump slightly. I was so deep in my thoughts that I missed his appearance in the office entirely.

“Nope. No clue. Not even a hint of a clue.”

Dean runs a hand over his face, his short stubble abrading his palm, making the most delicious sound. I want that sound between my thighs while he sucks my cock.

But I digress. That’s not why he’s in here.

“Hey, Dean, I know you’re worried, but ask him about it when you think he’s ready. He may need some space.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I think you can let him know you’re around if he needs to talk though. But don’t push it.”

He meets my gaze and rolls his lips between his teeth in thought. “Yeah, guess you’re right. I just worry, you know?”

“You’re a dad. Of course you do.”

I move toward him and his eyes sweep down to my legs, and I can’t help the dirty thoughts that filter through my brain once more. I can’t help it.

I really have no choice but to think them.

My hand lands on his chest, and Dean takes a deep breath. “Hey, have you eaten today?”

As if in response, his stomach rumbles. “No. Just those shitty eggs I made this morning.”

“All right, well, I packed us a lunch. Come on. You need to eat before your anxiety gives you an ulcer.”

He grumbles as I move toward the fridge and bend down, pulling the sack lunch out and then standing up straight.

As I do, Dean clears his throat, and I pretend not to notice how he adjusts himself slightly.

Was that because of me? I don’t fucking know. Probably not.

Oh god, but what if it was? What if he wants me too?

I can’t go there or it’ll end up with us in Vegas. Marriage by coercion .

“Here, I made us sandwiches.”

I lead him over to the desk and sit down next to him, setting the food on his lap.

He unwraps it and takes a small bite.

“Yeah, this is nice.” He leans back and swallows. My eyes track his Adam’s apple bobbing and I shift in my seat. I mean, that’s probably what he’d look like as he swallowed my cum.

Like just one big gulp.

I’d give him the best load. My very best.

“I don’t want to nag, but you should eat a little more and lay off the copious amounts of coffee you drink.”

He peers at me from the side of his eye. “That so?”

“Mhm. Remember? Bossy bitch?”

His lips quirk up and he takes another bite.

“Avery?” he says after a moment of quiet chewing.

“Hm?”

“If you want to fuck someone…or have a hookup…shit.” His words trail off, and I just sit completely still, waiting for him to explain. “I mean, if you want to hook up, I’d rather it not be at the house.”

My eyebrows rise. “And why are you talking about this now?”

He clears his throat and takes a sip of water. “Just wanted to put it out there since we’re roommates now.”

“Of course. I won’t bring a fuck to the house. Jesus, Dean. That would be so rude.”

“I just thought, last night when that guy brought you up the walkway…that maybe you two would…you know?”

“I wouldn’t do that. Not without talking to you first.”

“All right.”

He takes another bite and I do the same, letting those words sit between us. Why would it bother him so much if I brought home someone to fuck? Because he’s jealous? Or because the thought of hearing me take it up the ass grosses him out?

“And no, it’s not because I’m homophobic or some shit. So stop thinking that.”

My mouth opens and then slams shut.

“I just…I just don’t want to hear it. Not in my house. ”

“All right. You don’t need to explain, Dean. It’s your house. Your rules.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He takes another bite, and I sigh, my mind reeling. So he just doesn’t want to hear it. What does that mean? Does he not like the idea of me getting off around him because I’m a man? Or is it because he doesn’t want to hear me getting off with someone other than him? I let out a depressed exhale, and Dean stares at me.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Your mind goes a mile a minute so I know it’s not nothing. What is it?”

“Nothing, just still hungover is all.”

He doesn’t believe me but doesn’t call me out on my obvious lie. I mean, I’m hungover, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Before Dean can ask me anything else, I hear Ford calling up to him, and Dean sets his sandwich down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and disappears out of the office.

He looks…sad. I don’t know why, but I don’t like it.

I can’t help but follow him, curious about what Ford wanted. Cash and Ben aren’t around, but I do see a man in all black, his dark hair tucked behind his ears, chatting with Ford and Dean near the entrance. In his hand is a folder and his cell phone.

Grabbing a pad of paper to make any notes they may need, I move down and step up next to Dean.

The man’s eyes swivel to mine and then back to Ford and Dean.

“Avery, this is Whit. You spoke with him on the phone the other day about the dune buggy,” Dean says. “Whit, this is our administrative assistant.”

I lift my hand in a small wave. “Hi.”

Whit nods in acknowledgment. “Right, well, I was just—” Before he can continue, another man strides into the shop. He’s a big guy, wearing a beanie with hair peeking out from underneath. He has ripped jeans and a torn sweatshirt on.

“Hey, Whit! Shit, you’re on time, dude. Fucking always. ”

“Hi, Luke,” Whit says and then waves his hand toward the three of us. “Guys, this is Luke. He’s helping me with the specifications for this…vehicle. And he towed what we have so far.”

Whit holds out a folder and we all eye it.

“Show them. This shit is so cool. It’s like the Frankenstein of dune bugs, man,” Luke says with a grin.

Whit sighs and pulls a few sketches out. “It’s actually the monster, Frankenstein is the doctor, but it doesn’t matter. This is what we’d like. I just want to be clear: I do not want this. But I want Caleb to be safe. And to stop doing stupid shit, but that won’t happen so here we are.”

Luke snorts, and I can’t help but grin at how frazzled Whit looks right now. Apparently, he’s more safety-conscious than his partner. Which, by the looks of the monstrosity on paper is going to be some kind of death trap.

“Cool,” Ford says, holding the paper up. “You have the vehicle here?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately.”

“Fortunately,” Luke grins, slapping Whit on the back roughly. “We put as much together as we could but got a little stuck. Found pieces at my dad’s junkyard. Anyway, doesn’t matter. Caleb is going to shit his pants when he sees this.”

“I would prefer he didn’t,” Whit grumbles.

Laughs rumble out of Ford and Dean as we all make our way out to what appears to be a dune buggy, or what is left of it, attached to a large pickup truck. The guys walk around, talking animatedly about what they could do with it, looking at the drawings that have been sketched to show different ideas about how to make this even more dangerous. As they do, Whit moves toward me.

“You seem like the most reasonable one here. Is this a mistake?” he asks me, and I bite back a smile.

“Probably. But will it make him happy?”

“Immensely.” His cheeks flush, and I can see the love written on his face.

“I’d just make sure he has a good helmet and a good seatbelt. Oh, and a first-aid kit. Always have one of those.”

“Already have that. Luckily, Luke’s husband is a doctor. ”

“Oh, that’s handy.”

“You have no idea.”

His dark eyes meet mine just as the three men move up to us. “Can’t wait to work on this,” Dean says, holding out his hand, and Whit reluctantly shakes it.

“Thank you. Do you have an estimated date it can be done by? I’d love to have it to him as soon as possible.”

“We’ll get it done as fast as we can,” Ford interjects, and Dean nods.

“And we’ll make it as safe as possible,” I add. “Very safe. Roll cage to die for. Very strong seatbelts.”

Everyone turns to look at me, but I just roll my eyes and Dean finally gets the hint. “Yeah, safe. Of course. Don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Thank you,” Whit says as Luke works on undoing the hitch and trailer, and Ford gets ready to drive the dune buggy off the back of it.

“Fucking cool!” Ford shouts with a grin and then without waiting for the trailer to lower, revs the engine and pulls right off the back. The front tires hit with a slap and the entire trailer shifts noisily.

Whit sighs as he watches this, and I nudge him with my elbow. “I’ll make sure it’s fine. I promise.”

“Thank you. But this is my life now. I’ve come to terms with it.”

I snort a small laugh, and he grins at me. “I have to get back to work. But again, thank you for monitoring them.”

“Always.”

Just as I say this, Luke meanders up and slaps Whit on the back again. Whit doesn’t even flinch. Must be used to it.

“All right, future lawyer man. Let’s get you back to your place of work…studying or some shit.”

“Don’t say a word about this, Luke. I want this to be a surprise.”

“Pfft. I’m like a locked box.”

Whit rolls his eyes and the two of them walk to the truck, leaving the trailer behind. Ford has already pulled the dune buggy into the shop, leaving Dean and me to walk back inside. As we do, Ben and Cash appear, Ben looking a little nervous and Cash looking as if he could rip the world apart .

Probably has something to do with that poorly concealed hickey on Ben’s neck.

Shit. That’s not good. Seems my conspiracy theories aren’t just theories anymore.

And if Cash’s behavior is any indication, he wasn’t the one to put it there. I eye Ford and then Dean.

Well, hell.

“Come on, Dean,” I say, putting my arm through his. “We have lunch to finish.”

And hopefully this will give Ben a chance to clean this mess up without anyone noticing. And by anyone, I mean Dean.

When we get home, Dean leaves to talk to Ben, who left work early. I know he’s worried about his son, and I know he needs to check in. It’s been bothering him all day. So, I stay in the house to get things ready for dinner while he makes his way over to the garage apartment just a few yards away.

I’m in the middle of marinating some chicken when the doorbell rings.

Quickly, I wash my hands and move toward it, pulling it open to see a police officer standing there. My stomach immediately clenches and I feel my body grow warm with nerves.

“Oh,” I say, my voice coming out a little strained.

The man meets my eyes. “I’m looking for Avery Mitchell.”

“That’s me.”

I tug on my braid as the officer takes me in. Probably shouldn’t have worn my romper with the cute little rainbows on it today, but I saw the way Dean eyed my body in it and I couldn’t help myself.

“I’m following up on an incident reported by a Nick Duerte.”

I bite my bottom lip and nod. “Is this about the assault?” I point to my fading bruise and then the police officer’s eyes narrow. I want him to know that it’s more than what Nick says it is. I can play just as dumb as he can.

“No, it’s about the report of a theft. ”

I peer over the officer’s shoulder as Dean makes his way toward us, his steps quick and assured. The cop turns around slightly and steps out of the way as Dean moves up next to me, his hand immediately going around my waist.

And honestly, some of the fear dissipates. I’m not doing this on my own. I’m not alone.

For the first time in my life I feel like someone has my back.

What the fuck does that say about my parents?

“What’s going on?” he asks no one in particular.

“Oh, this lovely cop here is asking about Nick. The same Nick who is saying I stole his drug money.”

The cop pulls out a notebook, and I wave my hand in front of me slightly. “I don’t know if it really was drug money, but it was hidden under his mattress and he’s very shady in general. But no, before you ask, I didn’t take it.”

“Actually, you should be here because Nick assaulted Avery,” Dean pipes up, but I stop him with a hand to his chest. I can feel the angry thump of his heart under my palm and I nearly faint with excitement at how strong he is.

God, how am I not supposed to fall in love with him?

And I really shouldn’t be getting horny in front of this cop.

“He did. He punched me, and I left. I didn’t even get all my things. Dean here helped me grab it the next day. We didn’t enter the apartment, it was all thrown outside. And I don’t have his money.”

The cop scribbles this all down and then meets my gaze. “Why didn’t you report the assault?”

“I didn’t want any trouble. I just wanted to get away. I just want him to forget I exist.”

I peer over at Dean, who looks murderous.

“And anyway, Nick has been harassing me.” When Dean glowers at me, I add, “I might have been getting suspicious phone calls from different unknown numbers.”

“What?” Dean grinds out. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I don’t really know if it’s him. But it is suspicious. It’s gotten worse after Linc made an appearance at work.”

“And who is Linc?” the officer asks .

“He’s the other roommate. He saw it all happen. He came by to warn me that you’d be showing up to investigate.”

The cop nods and puts the notebook away. “All right. This isn’t what was reported. So I’ll make a note of all of it. You may need to come down for more questioning, but I have everything I need at the moment. If anything else happens, please call the direct line to me and we can get it handled.” He hands me a business card and Dean takes it, stuffing it in his pocket.

“Thank you, Officer,” Dean says, his hand landing on mine and squeezing gently. My heart pitter-patters in my chest, a mix of anxiety and relief that this is over. I should have known Nick would pull this shit. He always had the most shifty eyes.

When the door closes, I sag into him and let out a shaky breath.

“I’m not made for jail,” I whisper, Dean’s hands rubbing across my back.

“You’re not going to jail, Avery. I promise. That shithead, Nick, will be the one behind bars…or in a grave,” he whispers, and I let out a small laugh.

“God, Dean. Stop being so hot with the murder talk. Please don’t kill anyone. This will all go away eventually. Nick doesn’t have the best follow through.”

Dean doesn’t seem so sure, so he just continues to hold me. And fiddlesticks, it feels good to have him touch me like this, to comfort me.

I’m not alone.

“You should tell me if you get any more suspicious calls. I want to know about these things.”

My heart thrums with love. “Yeah, okay. I’ll try to remember.”

“You better.”

I roll my eyes and then take a step away from him. “How was Ben, by the way? Is he doing okay?”

Dean sighs. “I don’t know. Something’s up with him, but he’s not willing to talk about it. I don’t want to push, like you said, but I also want him to know that he can talk to me about anything.”

“You’re such a good dad. ”

“Yeah, well, I try to do the best I can. Just want him to know that nothing he could say would make me not love him.”

My eyes tear up slightly and I sniffle.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

I swipe at my eyes and waggle my hands around my face. “Nothing, just wish I had someone like you growing up. I wish my sister had that…”

“She did. She had you.”

“Oh god, don’t say that…it’s making me emotional. Because I left her, Dean. I left her there, but I had to. It was either that or some kind of creepy camp where they’d try to turn me not gay… Well, anyway…you don’t need to hear about that.”

“You can talk to me about anything anytime.”

I sniffle loudly, feeling flustered by the cop showing up and now talking about my sister.

“I just feel guilty, you know? Leaving her. I hope she doesn’t resent me.”

“I doubt she does.”

I nod and swallow roughly. “Okay, enough about that. I know I was starting dinner, but can we come back to it? I think I’d really like you to take me for that ride you promised me now. I’d love to clear my head for a bit. And there’s nothing like feeling like I’m going to fly off a speeding bike to help me with that.”

Dean’s hands cup my cheeks, his thumbs smoothing across my skin. And I can’t help the flutter in my eyelashes.

“Dean,” I whisper and his eyes slash down to my lips before moving away, his hands falling from me slowly.

“All right. Get something warmer on and we’ll go. Dinner can wait.”

I wake up in a sweat, a terrible dream plaguing my mind. God, I hate nightmares. I don’t have them often, which is surprising given my toxic home life growing up, but I had one just now.

Damn Nick. Why can’t he just leave me alone? He got what he wanted. I’m gone and now he’s harassing me with police officers ?

No wonder I had a dream I was being pulled away from Dean and locked in a cell.

Asshole.

I swallow, my throat clicking, and drag myself out of bed to grab a glass of water. When I make it to the kitchen, I see Dean standing there, clad in only his boxers, his phone in his hand like he’s texting someone.

Oh heaven, help me. I went from a nightmare straight into the best dream ever.

He could not look any sexier than he does now, all rumpled and tired. He looks like he just got done having sex.

I can vividly imagine what he smells like right now because I’ve been pressed up against him. I’ve smelled him far too many times.

“Avery,” he says, a little surprised to see me at three in the morning as I stumble toward the cabinets. I fumble through a few dishes, searching for the damn water glasses.

“Thirsty,” I say with a dry mouth, and I try to avoid staring at him. Oh my god, but look at those thighs.

I want to ride one of them. I’m not greedy. I’d be okay with just one. I’d just hump it until I came.

I’m so easy. And it would make me feel so much better about everything. It would really take my mind off all of it.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You’re shaking,” he says as he moves up to me and gently takes the water glass from me. He fills it with water and then hands it back, his eyes dropping to the jersey I’m wearing.

His jersey. Again.

Oh, crap. Honestly, I forgot I had it on. How fucking embarrassing. But after the ride and dinner, I put it on because I wanted to be close to him in some way.

It made me feel better.

“Oh god,” I groan and then chug the water, hoping I just drown. Is that a thing? We should make it a thing.

“Like I said, I don’t mind you wearing it and you look good in it,” he says lowly, and oh fuck, there goes my dick.

It’s getting all excited that he noticed me.

It’s in a perpetual state of arousal .

He really should stop saying these sexy things to me. He has no idea what they do to me.

“Thank you,” I say and then set my water glass on the counter. “Uh, why are you up?”

“Never really sleep well,” he replies and then takes a step closer to me, his phone set down on the counter. “Why are you awake?”

“Bad dream,” I mutter, and he reaches out and touches my chin. He’s killing me slowly with these gestures. He doesn’t know what he does to me when he touches me like that.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks, and yes, hell yes, I do. I want to throw myself into his arms and let him hold me for the rest of the night, but instead, I just shrug. Because clinging to him is no way to win this man over.

I think it would just scare him away.

But then again, he did let me sleep in his bed, and I woke up plastered next to him. I’m so damn confused. It’s too early in the morning for this. My mind can’t comprehend it.

“Come here,” he says and pulls me into that strong chest.

I don’t even resist, just flop onto him, like a dead fish. Very unsexy, but I can’t help it.

“I think I’ve lost the ability to move. I’m just completely petrified.”

“You need assistance to a couch?”

“Please.”

He lets out a chuckle and then hefts me up into his arms and walks me to the couch. I gasp and cling to him like a koala, trying to ignore the fact that I’m naked under this jersey, and just go with it. He doesn’t seem to mind his hands on my ass. And they are. They’re cradling it like a baby.

I’d so let him baby it.

Oh god, don’t think that. Do. Not. Think. That.

He sits down on the couch with me straddling him. This is one hundred percent inappropriate, but I’m doing it anyway. I deserve it after the week I’ve had. I really do.

And honestly, I just love how he smells. I love how he feels against me, so big and strong and capable .

I never want to leave. I want to feel safe forever. I want him to make all the bad dreams and bad people disappear.

“Go on. Tell me about this bad dream,” he says, his hand rubbing up and down my back, soothing me.

“Nothing too crazy, just reliving the punch to my face, I think. I haven’t really dealt with those emotions yet.”

He’s silent a moment and then says, “You never did tell me what happened that night.”

“Not much to tell,” I say and then sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll tell you, but I don’t want you to overreact. You murmuring about murdering people is making me nervous and this isn’t the first time I’ve been punched or bullied.”

When he doesn’t say anything, I lean back and meet his gaze in the shadows. “Promise me, Dean. You won’t do anything if I tell you what happened?”

He stares carefully at me and then inclines his chin. “Fine.”

I narrow my eyes at him and then decide that he must be telling the truth. And really, I’ll feel better if I talk about it. I want to tell him, to let him comfort me.

“So after college, I moved in with those assholes because the rent was cheap and they seemed…fine. Mostly. And they minded their own business, left me alone, and I did my own thing, and it was fine. But then that night Nick saw something he didn’t like and he freaked out. It’s…I cannot believe this is even an issue these days.”

“What issue?” Dean asks.

His brows are pinched in concern, and I glance away. “Well, it took me a long time to come to terms with what I like…that it isn’t wrong…even when my parents never liked it. Hated it even…”

Sneaking a look at him, his brow furrows even deeper. Oh damn, he’s so cute.

“What do you like?” he asks, and I sigh, closing my eyes.

“I like…well, you probably already know, but I like feminine things. Skirts, dresses, high heels, lipstick…”

I peek one eyelid open and Dean’s still staring at me.

“I do know that. Is that why your roommate punched you?” he asks, his voice low like he’s growing angry over it .

“Um, well, he didn’t understand when he saw me all dressed up…he got nervous and upset. I…” I wet my lips. “I kind of understand…it was a shock to him. I hadn’t given them any indication of it before. I kept it private for a long time. I mean, even I was afraid to accept myself for so many years…”

Dean reaches up and clasps my jaw gently, forcing my gaze to his. “Why don’t you wear any of that to work? I’ve never seen you wear this stuff. You’ve talked about it, but only since you moved in.” His voice grows gruff and he lets out a shaky breath, looking distraught. “Are you afraid of us?”

A loud laugh escapes me, but when I realize he’s not being funny, I bite my bottom lip.

“I honestly didn’t know what kind of people you were when I first started. I mean, look at you.”

Dean huffs, and I continue, “I get that it’s not…conventional. And that a lot of people wouldn’t understand it. I don’t want to drive away business. The men and women who come to you for work…they may not like it.”

His grip tightens a little, not hurting, but making my chest pinch all the same.

“You wear whatever the fuck you want, Avery. If that’s skirts and high heels and lipstick, then so fucking be it. My customers can deal or they can fuck right off.”

Oh god, I could kiss him. Why does the most perfect man have to be straight? I’d straight-up marry his ass. Literally, I’d make do with just one of his body parts. I’d take it straight to the alter.

“I don’t know, Dean. I don’t want to make anyone feel weird…”

He presses his forehead against mine, those lips so impossibly close.

“You be you, Avery. Don’t let those fuckers tell you to change.”

Oh, sweet Jesus. My entire body is trembling, and I lean forward, wanting to close the gap between us, press my lips to his, and hold him against me. I want to taste him, devour him.

I want every part of him. I always have and I always will.

But he moves away before I can. He sets me on the couch cushion next to him and then stands up. He runs a hand through his hair and my eyes travel down his heaving chest to his straining cock.

Oh god. Is he… is he hard ?

“I’m gonna…” He nods toward the hallway and then he’s gone. That fine ass disappears from view, and I’m left sitting here, my heart hammering against my chest and my own cock rigid.

What was that? What the fuck was that?

He held me. He touched me. I sat on his lap.

He got hard. He left.

What’s he doing in that bedroom? I want to go in there and interrupt. I want to beg him to let me join in. But I don’t. I don’t know what to do with myself. But I’m surely gonna pick apart everything that happened over the last ten minutes. Straight men don’t just pick up other men and cradle them, do they? I don’t fucking know.

I stare down at my bare thighs and bite at my bottom lip.

“You wear whatever the fuck you want.”

Oh god. He’s too perfect. He’s just the man for me. He always will be, even if he never chooses to be with me.

With wobbly legs, I make my way to my room, shutting and locking the door. I flop down on the bed and stare up at the ceiling, my mind already reeling with what it all means, the possibilities.

Maybe tomorrow, if I feel confident, I’ll wear a modest skirt to work. Just to see if Dean really means what he says.

Maybe it’s time to start being me out in the open.

Maybe it’s finally time to show the world who I really am.

And to see what Dean really thinks.