A/N: I had so much fun with The Bet, I wanted to turn the tables and give Jo a win. Love in this Tub inadvertently gave Jo something to hold over Dean...which meant she had a reward coming her way. A reward I am hoping y'all think reads as well as it did in my head...
I'm not sure what else I can come up with, but I'd love to add a few more one-shots to what I'm gonna call the Competitive 'Verse. Thoughts? Suggestions? Interest?
I say it a lot, but not nearly enough. I love stephaniew for her willingness to help me work out all the little details. Especially when she does it before her caffeine's had a chance to set in on Sunday morning. She's so good to me...be good to her and check out her stories? You won't be sorry!
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.
The Bet, Part II
"Aww, come on, Jo," Dean whines after hearing the terms of his punishment.
Jo leans against the counter and smirks at him. Biting her lip, she raises her eyebrow. "A bet's a bet, Dean-O," she gloats.
"You really want me to..." he starts, eyes wide as he grips his beer. The look on her face says she serious. It tells him that he's not gonna win this fight. Certainly not after he did it to her.
Jo pulls out her iPod and scrolls until she finds the song she's picked out. She taunts him. "What's it gonna be, Dean? You aren't gonna welsh on me, are you?"
Dean gulps. "What's the song?"
Jo hits play and lays the device on the counter beside her. She laughs as Dean's face falls when the tones of Cherry Pie hit his ears.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me..." he says. "Warrant? You want me to strip to Warrant?"
"Yep," she answers, popping the 'p' as she boosts herself up to sit on the surface behind her. "Time's a wastin', Dean-O..." she teases, eyes wide as an innocent smile spreads over her face. "You wouldn't want me to have to start it again, would you?"
"Stupid hair metal," he mumbles under his breath as his hips start to move. He makes a show of inching up his shirt and rippling his abs. He feels like a douchebag...then she giggles and he can't help but smile. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad...
Well, swingin' on the front porch, swingin' on the lawn. Swingin' where we want 'cause there ain't nobody home. Swingin' to the left and swingin' to the right. I think about baseball, swing all night, yeah. Yeah, yeah. Swingin' in the living room. Swingin' in the kitchen. Most folks don't 'cause they're too busy bitchin'.
He thinks about things he'll be swinging upstairs as he pulls his shirt over his head. Leaning back, he flexes and gestures to his body. Moving to Jo, he grabs her hand, sucking two of her fingers into his mouth before trailing them down his chest.
Swingin' in there 'cause She wanted me to feed her So I mixed up the batter and she licked the beater. I scream, you scream we all scream for her. Don't even try 'cause you can't ignore her. She's my cherry pie. Cool drink of water such a sweet surprise. Tastes so good make a grown man cry. Sweet cherry pie. Oh yeah.
Dean makes a rather awkward pirouette as he tugs off his boots and throws them unceremoniously over his shoulders. He gives Jo an eyebrow wiggle as he reaches for his belt, unbuckling it. He yanks it from the belt loops with epic flourish, shimmying with it behind his back before wrapping it around Jo and pulling her to the edge of the counter.
She's my cherry pie. Put a smile on your face ten miles wide. Looks so good bring a tear to your eye. Sweet cherry pie, yeah.
The shocked expression on her face gives him a mile wide grin. His mouth falls heavily against hers in a deep kiss. She rewards him with a breathy pant and he really gets into it. Pulling away in the nick of time, he pounds the air with closed fists to Swingin' to the drums. On swingin' to guitar, his leg becomes the instrument, nearly kicking her in the process.
Swingin' to the bass in the back of my car. Ain't got money. Ain't got no gas. But we'll get where we're goin' if we swing real fast. I scream, you scream. We all scream for her. Don't even try 'cause. You can't ignore her.
Jo laughs. Hard. She can't remember the last time she witnessed something this silly. And make no mistake, Dean dancing clumsily around her mother's kitchen while stripping was a hell of a show.
She's my cherry pie. Cool drink of water such a sweet surprise. Tastes so good make a grown man cry. Sweet cherry pie. Oh yeah. She's my cherry pie. Put a smile on your face ten miles wide. Looks so good bring a tear to your eye. Sweet cherry pie, yeah. Pie.
Dean feels himself stiffening. This should not be turning him on, especially not with his girlfriend laughing at him. But, dammit, it was. Giving her a show. Making her smile. Watching her let go and have fun. She was light. Free. That inner sweetness - the glow beneath the tomboy exterior - was shining now...and he couldn't get enough of it.
Swing it! All night long, swing it! Swingin' in the bathroom. Swingin' on the floor. Swingin' so hard we forgot to lock the door. In walks her daddy standin' six foot four. He said you ain't gonna swing with my daughter no more.
As he drops his pants, kicking free of them, all Dean can think about now are the dirty things he and Jo have done. Making out like teenagers with her mother asleep in the same room. Getting hot and heavy in the back seat of the Impala after telling Sam they were going for take-out. The edge of the tub...the very thing that had put him in the position he was in now. Dancing. For her.
"Nice moves!" comes the familiar drawl. "Carry on," he offers. "Don't mind me at all..." He hurries to the fridge and grabs a sandwich and a beer. "Do you're thing...it's clear y'all are havin' a good time." Ash does a half cabbage patch move and scuttles out of the room.
Dean stops, but Jo shakes her head. She hops down off the counter and teases her fingers in the waistband of his boxers. "Uh-uh, big guy," she clucks. "You aren't done yet..."
The naked lust and excitement in her eyes are enough. They speak of a bigger prize, a larger payoff. What could be the harm? It wasn't like anyone else was around...right?
She's my cherry pie. Cool drink of water such a sweet surprise. Tastes so good make a grown man cry. Sweet cherry pie. Oh yeah.
Dean rotates his hips and bends over, dropping his drawers. Jo whistles and gives him a little clap as he continues his little dance.
She's my cherry pie. Put a smile on your face ten miles wide. Looks so good bring a tear to your eye. Sweet cherry pie. Sweet cherry pie. Swing it!
"Yeah, dude," Sam says, shaking his head with a laugh. "'Cause seeing that side of you once wasn't enough..."
Dean shrugs and pulls his shorts back up. "Pudding?"