Andi King didn't know how to play nice, because quite frankly, she didn't like people. She was a loner and that was how she liked it. Especially with a sadistic demon dead set on destroying her and anyone she got close to.
But that all changes when...
"I'll be the loaded gun, the only one that I will ever need."
Not Afraid to Die by Written by Wolves
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The silence was everything to me. It was better than any white noise, crickets on the farm, music on the radio, or even the sound of children's laughter. It was soothing, and it was safe, and my favorite time to enjoy it was the earliest part of the morning on a day off when you were still in bed, soaking up the last bit of comfort that surrounded you because you knew that you had nothing but time.
This morning was not one of those mornings.
No, this morning would have been so much better if it hadn't been for the sound of Dean's peaceful breathing in my ear. I'm sure any other girl would have loved to have awoken with their body pressed firmly into his, their legs intertwined and his arms wrapped tightly around you, but me - I'd much rather wake up with a severed horse head at my feet.
The more I tried pulling away from him, the firmer his grip got. He groaned softly and held me tight as I tried to pull his hands off of me, but with an aggravated huff, I leaned back into my pillows as I debated tossing him off the bed.
I glanced down between our tight bodies, and my stomach flipped as his shirt rode up to his stomach, leaving my eyes to follow the perfectly defined v all the way down to his tight-fitted briefs.
"Are you checking me out?" He asked.
I dropped the sheer and glared up at him. His eyes still closed, and a slight grin pulled at the corner of his mouth as he basked in my uncomfortableness.
"What the hell are you doing in my bed Dean?"
His eyes fluttered open, and he pulled his hands away from my waists, instantly rubbing away the sleepiness. He stretched his arms up, his biceps lexing a way into my soul, and sat up slowly as his tired gaze fell on me.
"You okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be okay?"
He narrowed his eyes. "You don't remember anything about last night?"
I groaned loudly, not remembering much. There was my computer, a bar, a tattooed guy, and then Dean walking into the hotel room with more beer.
"You freaked the hell out last night," he said, getting yo and making his way to the coffee pot.
I nodded, not denying his words. There was a reason I usually drank myself into a slumber, and the look on his face had only proved I was a little more screwed up than I wished he had realized, and I instantly felt uncomfortable under his gaze.
"What?" I snapped at him. "It was just a nightmare. We all get them, whether you want to admit it or not."
Dean looked me over one last time before walking over and handing me a steaming cup of coffee. I blew on it gently until it was cool enough to sip and downed it, desperate for the pick me up.
