A/N: I got the idea for this listening to Amanda Marshall's This Could Take All Night. It's a sexy song. The smoky quality of her voice combined with the lyrics speaks to me. There's a video on YouTube if you wanna get a feel for it.

Many thanks to pal stephaniew for putting up with me and my scatterbrained muse. Check out all the ways Dean and her OC heat things up! ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

This Could Take All Night

As they get out of the car at the motel, Sam pockets the keys. "So," he says without looking at his brother or Jo, "You two wanna..."

He shakes his head at the scene that meets his eyes. Barely out of the car, the pair are all over each other. Dean's fingers are entwined in his girlfriend's hair. Jo's hands are plastered to Dean's chest. He chuckles. "Get a room?" he finishes to himself.

"Dean?" He has to repeat his brother's name three more times before he gets a response.

"Yeah, Sammy?" the older Winchester replies. His eyes remain locked on Jo's face. Specifically, the kiss swollen lips he's in a hurry to get back to.

"I'm gonna go get a beer," he says.

"Sounds good," Dean answers with a casual nod. "I think we're gonna go to bed."

Jo laughs softly as his hands slip into the back pockets of her jeans and he pulls her close. "Night, Sam," she says with a smile.

Dean's lips are on hers again when they get to the room. He presses her against the door, grinding against the gentle curves of her body as he stabs the key at the lock.

She pushes back against him and flips their positions easily. Her lips take greedy purchase of his as she twists the plastic fob from his hands.

His fingers grope at her, staking claim on the flesh beneath the hem of her shirt and stealing across her lower back. He smirks against her lips as she manages to open the lock, spilling him backwards into the room. His arms wrap around her, pulling her with him. Turning, he slams the door behind them and pushes her against it.

She grabs his leather collar and tugs his mouth back to hers as his hand stretches out in vain search of the light switch. "Leave it," she demands, nipping at his lower lip. "I don't care about the light."

"I do," he growls, placing open mouthed kisses along her jaw. "I want to see you."

She pushes his jacket from his shoulders and it slaps heavily against the floor. She flips the lock into place, tossing the key of the table.

"All of you," his voice is husky and filled with desire. Twisting, he leans against the door and pushes her jacket off. He growls in frustration when it bunches at her wrists. They struggle to release her from its confines, tongues engaged in a desperate duel.

"Might be easier to manage if you were on your knees, Dean-O," she breathes.

His eyes twinkle wickedly, his lips turning upward in a cocky grin. He turns her back to the wall again, in his haste knocking over a table lamp. Her laughter is short lived as his mouth attaches to her throat, his fingers slipping to the buttons on her blouse. He's got her right where he wants her: trapped in the handcuffs of her sleeves.

"I love you in t-shirts," he growls, his voice is roughened with need. "But it drives me fucking crazy when you wear shirts with buttons," he tells her.

She leans her head back against the wall. As her shirt begins to part, his mouth burning her skin, she grins. Because this was exactly what she had planned. It was exactly how she wanted the evening to go. His tongue flickers into her navel and she feels her knees go weak.

Kneeling in front of her, he rests his forehead on her abdomen. Breathing her in, he feels her tremble as he yanks at her jacket. Once free, her hands twist into his hair. He pulls off her shoes, carelessly chucking them over his shoulder without pause to see what they might come in contact with. His hands fly to the fastenings on her jeans as his lips tease her belly.

The snick of the zipper is nearly her undoing. She feels the heat of his breath on her skin before his mouth makes contact. She bites her lower lip to keep from moaning, because she knows it will only serve to egg him on. To prolong the sensual torture. "Please," she murmurs as he draws the pants down her legs.

His mouth and tongue trace the line where her panties meet her hips. His head dips lower, his hands drift to the backs of her firm thighs. "Please what?" he asks as he removes the article. He bends to kiss her knee, his hands glide up her legs with the same heated caress as his mouth.

"Stop teasing me," Jo pleads on a gasp.

He traces over the red lace of her underwear, his fingers slipping beneath the edge. "What've I told you about wearing these?" he asks sternly.

She knew this pair was a particular favorite. He'd said many things about them. Much like the blouse, it was part of her strategy. Not that she needed buttons or sexy lingerie to get his attention.

"Mmm," he whispers against her skin as he continues to work her lower body. He looks up at her, his eyes burn into hers when they connect. Suddenly, he's on his feet, his body leaning against hers. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asks, sucking her lower lip between his as he cups her face. "How much you turn me on?"

She's drunk on passion, on the way her body fits against his. The feel of his hands as they glide over her torso beneath her open shirt is exhilarating. She shivers, but not because she's cold. Brown eyes cling to his. She's afraid to look away. Afraid to breathe and break the intimate spell. "I feel it," she says softly.

The fingers of one hand curl around her waist, while the other makes a bold move upward. It travels quickly through the valley of her breasts. Slips between the collar of her shirt and her throat. Settling in her thick hair, he uses it to propel her lips to his in a crushing kiss. Pulling back, he looks down into her eyes.

The intensity in the grey-green depths is haunting. It steals the air from her lungs. She waits for what seems like an eternity under his stare. Her eyes locked to his, she searches for answers.

His eyes soften and he rests his head against hers. "I love you," his breath is ragged. His words - the tone of his voice - strips her completely naked. "I know I don't say it often, but I..."

She swipes her fingers over his lips. She doesn't need the words to know. She feels it in his touch. In the way he looks at her. He kisses her fingertips and she makes her move. Advancing on him, she guides him toward the bed with tango-like precision. Her eyes hold his until their gaze is broken by the removal of his t-shirt. She kisses his jaw, her hands mapping the contours of his chest. Her breath tickles his shoulder as he pushes her shirt down. His hands slide up her back and her tongue flickers over his pulse point. "Hey, Dean?" her thumb brushes over his nipple.

"Hmm?" he mumbles, his mind focusing on her hands.

She smirks, relishing in the affect she has on him. With shining eyes, she looks up. "Shut your cake hole and kiss me."

He turns her to the bed and places a knee beside her. He drags her to his chest and when her arms go around his neck, he lowers her to the sheets. He kisses her again - her forehead, her eyelids, the tip of her nose. His lips brush over her chin and her collarbone.

Her nails rake over his shoulders and his back. She sighs as he rains kisses hotly over her chest, arching under him and into his wandering hands.

He takes advantage and removes her bra, tossing it to the floor. Their mouths meet again and he inhales sharply at the feel of her flesh against his own. It's not a new sensation, but tonight it's different. More intimate, as if that were possible. He knows her body better than he knows his own. He knows all the little pleasure points. The places where she likes to be nibbled, kissed and licked. And he'll hit every last one of them tonight.

She gropes for his belt only to be pushed back into the bed. He holds her wrists above her. Kissing her deeply, he touches her. He carries her right to the edge. He captures her mouth before stopping to hover over her. "This could take all night," he warns. He feels the laughter and watches as a smile spread across her delicate features.

She stretches to pluck at his lips. "I'd like to see you try to get out of bed before I'm done with you," she chides, squirming closer in effort to force him onto his back.

He grins and gives in. "You know I like it when you're on top," he husks, his tone dripping with desire.

She shoves him playfully, her lips brushing over his in a feather-light caress. "You're insatiable," she teases.

He strokes the hair from her face and sweeps it behind her ear. He drags her lips to his. "It's not my fault that I have a smokin' hot girlfriend," he voices.

And she's beneath him again, putty under his skilled hands. She whimpers when he takes down her panties. "You have too many clothes on," she whines. She moans when his mouth and tongue tease her. His torture is short lived when she squirms from his hold and pushes him into the bed.

She straddles him. Her hands plucking furiously at his belt. She looks down at the devilish way his lips turn up, his eyebrows raising above smoldering eyes. She leans forward, dragging her breasts along his chest tauntingly as she makes her way to his mouth. The glide of his fingers on her back as she comes to rest over him makes them both sigh.

His tongue explores her mouth as his hands drift southward cupping every curve they can reach, feeling the heat between them reaching temperatures close to hell's inferno. "God, baby," he moans, his fingers tangling roughly into her hair. Everything about her is soft - her hair, her skin - and he longs to lose himself in her. To feel the freedom of everything she offers. Her body. Her heart.

She smiles wickedly as she pulls away. She mimics the move he used on her earlier, kissing him all over. She tugs his pants and boxer briefs off quickly and flings them over her shoulder. His skin is warm and slightly salty. Everything about him is hard - his body, the shell he uses to protect himself - but she knows he's soft in the middle. Knows that he can be trusted with her heart. She gives herself freely, opening up to him in ways she never has with anyone else.

He watches her like a tiger tracking prey. He licks his lips as she comes closer. He wonders if she sees it coming when he strikes - rolling her beneath him in a move that nearly sends them toppling to the floor. He sucks in a breath when she touches him, her eyes dance as she watches his face contort.

"Enough," he growls, his mouth crushing hers.

Jo knows she's won. That she's broken him the same way he's broken her. With lust. With desire. But, most of all, with love. The weight of his body should be oppressive, but it's comforting. The power he has over her should make her afraid, but it doesn't. When she feels as though she couldn't possibly be more empty without him, he fills her. He takes her to heights she didn't know her body could climb with every single thrust.

He shifts so that he's beneath her, the motion driving him deeper. Sitting up, he pulls her legs round his waist before brushing her hair out of her face and giving her a blistering kiss. "Told you I like it when you're on top," he utters as her fingers press into his back. He imparts sucking kisses along her shoulder, delighting in the music of the little moans and purrs that escape her.

"Oh, God!" she exclaims.

Meeting her passion-glazed eyes, he watches hers roll back as she's rocked by her orgasm. He feels it ripple through her body. "I love you," he whispers. Normally, he wouldn't say it in bed but as she leans against him, her body clenching around his, it just feels right. And it sends her spiraling over the edge all over again. He rubs soothing circles on her back as he rocks gently in and out with tender friction. He feels his own climax building.

She sighs when he lays her back on the bed. Moans as he trails his fingers delicately over her body. And cries out again as he carries them that much closer to the edge. He kisses her, measuring his every move, calculating the right moment.

She clutches at the damp skin of his back, pulling him into her. She licks at the tiny beads of sweat on his shoulder. Finally, she brings a leg up to surround his waist, guiding him to hit all of her sweet spots as he quickens his pace.

He feels his muscles ache as he works to hold back, trying to prolong the sweet agony as long as possible. He's done for when Jo shudders beneath him and calls out his name. With a few quick strokes, he collapses above her quivering and spent.

"Mmm," he chuckles softly as he tries to push himself off of her. "I've got to be crushing you..."

She tilts her lips up to his, stealing a kiss before curling into his side. "Don't go too far," she whispers sleepily. "Before you know it, it'll be time for round two."

He kisses her forehead, a deep laugh vibrating in his chest. "And you called me insatiable..."

Jo strokes her fingers over his abs. "Well," she says thoughtfully, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth. "I seem to remember being promised this could take all night."