Sauntering slowly into the kitchen, I let my eyes trail around. Every movement was just a bit too slow, just this side of scary smooth. Turning back to him, I sized Dean up like he was a piece of meat to a starving man. Then I licked my lips.

"Thirsty," I purred. Sitting up on the counter, crossing my legs. "Aren't you going to offer me something?" Every word out of my mouth was seduction. I was so hungry, wanted so badly to just shove him against the wall and take him. Every second we danced around the inevitable was agony.

Some corner of my brain was freaking out, but that part of me didn't matter. Dean was a big boy. In every good way. He could take care of himself. Hopefully he could take care of me, too.