Chapter 13 - Tensions

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I'm so sorry if I killed many fangirls because of this gif ^^ Oh, and you could possible die a second time because of what happens next... I just about died writing this.
FANGIRL DISCRETION IS ADVISED 




Dean's POV

After running those three flights of stairs,  I decided I needed to cool off. I was going to go back to the lobby and ask for a room, so I could take a shower. But then, the lady at the front desk popped in my head, and I decided to not get a room. When I walked into the building, I remembered smelling chlorine, so I figured they had a pool.

I was on the first floor, and I had enough reasoning to think that the pool was here, and fortunately, I was right. The pool was located right next to the lobby, which I hate because the girl would have been able to watch me. But to my surprise, I saw a blonde man there. I'm thinking that her shift was over.

I texted Chloe to come and meet me here so we could talk privately. I was really surprised when she said she would meet me, after all the things that have happened. 

After putting my phone down on the table next to one of the many plastic chairs, I took my shirt off and threw it on the closest chair next to me. I slipped off my shoes and socks and neatly placed them on the floor at the foot of the chair I chose to throw my shirt on. Thinking I didn't want to ruin my new pair of jeans, I decided to take them off also, starting with my belt. I slide my jeans off, careful not to take off my boxers.

I didn't bring my suitcase in from my car, which has my swimming trunks, so this was kind of my last resort.

I walk to the edge of the pool and stick my foot in, testing the waters temperature. To my shock, the water is pretty warm. I take a deep breath, and dive in head first.

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Chloe's POV

I hug the white towel to my body as I walk down hallways and flights of stairs to the pool to meet Dean Ambrose. To be totally honest, I'm not so sure what to expect. He said that he wanted to talk about some important stuff with me, but Dean and I have different views about what it 'important'. I'm just hoping for the best. I hope everything goes okay, and maybe our relationship will go back to normal–if that's even possible.

I stop in front of the entrance of the pool. I take deep breaths, preparing myself of what could come ahead. 

I open the door, and instantly stop in my tracks. What I see before me, makes me drop my towel and tame a moan from deep inside my throat.

A half naked Dean–only wearing his boxers–dives straight into the pool, like he was made to swim. He stays under for moments, just swimming under the waters surface and blowing bubbles from his nose. I see him kick off the floor of the pool, making him shoot up. His head pops above water, and he whips his head to the side, moving his long, brown bangs out of his eyes. He turns around so that he facing me, but I don't think he notices me. He dives back under, keeping his hands out in front of him. His hands gently hit the wall from under the water. He bobs back up, his strong hands griping the edge of the pool. Once again, he whips his hair to the side. Now, I can see his beautiful blue eyes. His arms flex for a moment before he pulls himself out of the pool, making sure to do it in slow motion–maybe I'm just seeing it in slow motion. The water drips from his face and hair and into the concrete floor. He's standing at the edge of the pool, now, his boxers sticking to him like some kind of tight suit. They are also a little see through, making me feel a certain way, and struggling to tame another moan.

I can see everything. Every edge and curve, every scar and scratch. My hands itch to feel his imperfections. I need to feel his edges and dents on my fingertips.

His six pack stands out in the water and behind all the droplets. His arms flex once more, before he rakes through his dripping hair. I follow his happy-trial-line down the the rim of his boxers, once again, not able to help myself. They are so tight on him, hugging every little crevice and dent.

Let's just say water does wonders for men.

He looks up from the floor, and spots me–standing there like a complete idiot. I quickly pick up my towel and wrap it tightly around my body, not wanting him to have a chance to check me out like I just did to him. I take a deep breath, clearing all the images and thoughts of him from my mind.  

"You came," he says, his voice rough, sending chills down my spine.

I clear my throat. "Yeah, well, I had nothing else better to do." I look at the floor, not trusting my eyes to stay on his face.

"I didn't think you'd come," he says, taking steps closer to me.

I can see him in the corner of my eye now. Don't look, Chloe.

"Surprise!" I sarcastically yell, doing jazz hands.

"Why aren't you looking at me?" He asks, a little amusement in his voice.

"I am," I say, glancing at him, but not in the most appropriate place I should have.

"Ah," he chuckles, standing right in front of me. Now I can see his legs and the legs of his blue American Eagle boxers. "You're distracted by me."

I scoff, "Yeah, right."

"Then look at me," he demands, power strangling his word.

I taking a deep breath, I fold my arms and look straight into his blue swimming pools. "There. Happy?"

He smiles. "Yes, I am."

"Good." I roll my eyes.

"Why all the rudeness?" He asks, tilting his head.

Glaring at him, I say, "Just in case you didn't know, I'm still mad at you."

He rolls his shoulders, flexing his pecs and arms. "Oh, right. I forgot." 

I scoff at him. "What do you want to talk about or did you forget that too?"

"I remember, trust me I do. But before I do begin talking to you, I need to get something out of the way... Let's say for my safety."

"What is it, Ambrose?" I question, fixing my falling towel.

"Are you on your period? I mean, it makes sense if you are. You've been acting up lately–"

I slap him. "First off, you don't ask a girl that specific question, it's just rude," I spit at him, disgusted at what he just asked me. "Second of all, I've been acting up because of your sorry ass!" I yell, poking him in his still dripping wet chest.

He smirks. "I know, my ass is pretty good–"

"Oh, I'm not done!" I interrupt him. "Third of all, it doesn't look like I'll be staying." I turn sharply on my heels and begin walking out of the door, until a rough, wet hand grabs my elbow.

"I don't think you'll be going anywhere," he whispers, his warm breath hitting the back of my neck, making goosebumps crawl my skin.

"Let go of me," I say, sounding like a scared yet excited puppy.

"No," he says with so much power in his voice that I flinch. His hands move from my elbow to the rim of my towel. I quickly tighten my grip on the soft, white towel.

"Ah," he tisks me, "I don't think you want to do that." He pulls me into him, making me gulp. His front is to my back. So many things can happen right about now.

He tugs my hands off the towel, making it fall to the ground. "Now," he whispers deeply, "that's better." He quickly grabs my waist, and throws me into the pool before I can react.

Finally Finding Love •{Ambrose fanfic}•Wo Geschichten leben. Entdecke jetzt