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“What are the chances?” the man across the bar asks as soon as she sits down. He’s grinning as he pours her a glass of red currant rum.
“Mmm, well I do work just across the street. So, I’m sure they’re fairly high. Would you like me to run the numbers?” She replies with a smirk as she brings the glass to her lips. His eyes track the movement. He starts to reply but his name is called from the other end of the bar.
Hermione’s gaze follows him as he makes his way to the other patron. At one point lingering on his arse. As soon as she realises what she’s doing, her eyes dart away finding a rather interesting spot along the back wall. What is she thinking? Dean is her friend. In the past year or so since she opened her consulting office across the street, they have become quite good friends. She shouldn’t be ogling one of her friends.
“Are you stopping by on Saturday?” She’s so shocked at where her mind had just gone that she almost misses his question. Saturday? She lifts a brow, hoping her cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. He shakes his head before sending a smirk in her direction.
“The first is next week. Neville’s taking over for Sprout, remember?” She nods her head. She had been quite proud of him when he told her the news. If anyone can get kids interested in screaming Mandrakes and Bouncing Bulbs, it will be Neville. She just hadn’t realised how close September was sneaking up on them, though. “Well, Hannah wants to send him off with a bang.”
Her eyes go wide and her reply is immediate. “You can’t let Seamus man the bar.” He chuckles as he wandlessly moves the glasses to the shelf behind him.
“Trust me, that’s never happening again.” The last time Seamus had served drinks The Flaming Lion had almost lived up to its name. “But he has planned the entertainment. You’ve been warned.” He says with a cheeky grin. Anytime Seamus is in charge of anything a warning is definitely needed.
She brings her glass to her lips taking the last sip and again she notices Dean’s eyes following the movement. But as soon as her eyes catch his, he looks away, finding some task to do on the other side of the bar. Strange. But she shakes away his peculiar behaviour and sets the coins down for her drink. She calls his name and says her goodbyes before making her way to the exit.
“Maybe we can finally have that nightcap.” He calls out as she’s halfway to the door. Her brow scrunches as she turns back to him. Only he’s already moved on to another patron. She shakes her head, trying to clear the not-so-friend-like thoughts that just invaded her head.
The few drinks she’s had help calm her nerves, a bit at least. She’s been distracted by him all night. Fortunately, her friends haven’t noticed. Unfortunately, they share said friends, so he stops by their table with increasing frequency.
At first, she thought nothing of it. But with each trip, he ends up closer and closer to her. Soon enough, his hands start to make an appearance. On her anyway. Only the brush of his thumbs against her back as he leans against her chair. His fingers playing with her hair as he walks past. His hand lingering just above her arse as he walks her back from the bar. Little touches that give cadence to her theory.
Her theory that her good friend, Dean, has been flirting with her. She’s not sure how she just noticed it. She blames Harry for rubbing his oblivious nature onto her.
He’s wordlessly waving his wand, lifting the chairs onto the tables, when she walks back into the pub. She just watches him. Something she does far too much of, but now that she’s noticed she can’t seem to stop. She’s still leering when he finally notices her.
“Missing something?” He’s dangling her purse from one finger. A solid reason for her to go back inside without drawing attention to herself.
“Actually, I was hoping to get that nightcap.” His brows pull together for a second before he pulls two chairs off the nearest table. She has a moment to psych herself up as he makes his way to the bar. He comes back with her red currant rum and his firewhiskey.
He’s still standing, watching as she brings the glass to her lips. A drip slips down her lip as she takes a sip. In a second, his thumb is there collecting the liquid and pushing it back into her mouth. There’s a question in his eyes as it rests there. She answers by sucking it into her mouth.
It sets them both into motion. She’s up in a second, her hands grabbing his shoulders. He kisses her hard and fast as if he can’t wait a moment longer to get his mouth on her. His hands drop to her thighs and lift her onto the table.
She’s panting as he pushes open her thighs. Literally panting for him. She would be embarrassed if she couldn’t see the clear effect she has on him, too. His pupils are blown wide. Lust pouring from him as his eyes never leave his hands, which are slowly, torturously creeping up her thighs. A skirt was definitely the right choice for her plans tonight.
He’s so close to where she wants him to be. He must be punishing her. Why else would he drag this out? His thumbs drag along her inner thighs. Up and down. Up and down. Each time getting closer and closer to her knickers.
“Please, Dean.” It comes out as more of a whine.
“Please, what?” The rumble of his voice sends a shiver through her. Her thighs clench, but he’s quick to force them back apart. His fingers pull at the lace. She’s left hanging as he lets it snap back into place instead of pulling them off altogether.
“Godric, just touch me already.” He only chuckles at her desperation.
“Funny, I thought I was touching you already.” His hands start to retreat from where she wants them. She’s quick to stop him. Her hands land on top of his. She slowly drags them to where she wants them, torturing them both.
His left hand up her waist and under her top. And his right between her legs right against her knickers. Which are soaking. She would be embarrassed if he didn’t groan as soon as his fingers touched the wet material.
Finally, some of his control slips away. She counts it as a victory when he fists the lace and yanks it away from her body.
“Fuck, Hermione.” His head falls against her chest. He’s breathing heavily and so is she. His fingers move through her slick, still not going where she needs. It’s infuriating and intense. She’s not sure if she wants it to end or to see how long she can endure his torture.
Just as she’s about to beg for more, one of his fingers slips inside of her pussy. Her head falls back with a gasp. She tightens around him, needing more. He mumbles a curse into her neck. At the same time his lips start moving across her neck, his finger starts to move.
“You’re sucking me right in.” He whispers into her ear. She grinds into him as he pushes another finger in. It’s a tighter fit, but gods does it feel good. Her hips start to move with his fingers. That feeling is starting to build up inside of her.
She begins to grow impatient. She lifts her hand into his hair and pulls his lips to hers. When her tongue pushes against his, another piece of his restraint cracks away. He grabs her jaw and licks into her mouth. It’s hot and raw and obscene, and it makes her want him even more.
Her hand travels down his chest only slowing when she reaches his belt buckle. He pulls away and they both watch as she pulls out his cock. She strokes him once and is enthralled by the sight of it. His tip is leaking, and she can’t stop herself from collecting it with her thumb and bringing it to her mouth.
Finally, that breaks him. She would like to say it was a part of her plan, but she’s just as hot and bothered as he is. He pulls her to the edge of the table before lining his cock up. He pushes through her folds, covering his cock in her slick.
She whimpers at the feeling of his tip inside of her. He stills inside of her. “No, no. Keep going.” She whines.
“Hermione,” he moans as her heels dig into his arse, forcing him deeper inside of her. “Just give me a minute.” He shifts, holding the backs of her thighs in a tight grip. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. Just give me a second.” Only his words have the opposite effect. Now she needs him to move all the more.
She’s burning for him. His cock stretches her open perfectly. She knows as soon as he moves, she’ll be writhing for him. She clenches at just the thought. His mumbled curses vibrate across her jaw. And she finds she needs to hear more of them. The thought of him falling apart just for her sends another thread of desire through her.
“Dean.” She looks down at him with a whisper. His eyes dart up to her at the sound of his name. His eyes are almost completely black. Only a small sliver of brown persists. The sight is just as tantalising as the rest of him. He’s clenching his jaw as if it’s taking everything in him to hold himself back. Well, she can’t have that. “I really need you to fuck me.”
He groans before huffing out a breath. He slowly drags himself out of her until only the tip remains. Some of the lust clears from his face as he stares her down. “Are you sure, Hermione?” His hands gentle and his thumbs caress the tops of her thighs. “Please be sure.” He whispers as he leans his head against her.
She’s barely nodding before he’s thrusting back into her. The drag of his cock rubs her in all the right places.
“Is that good, baby?” She moans at the sound of his lust-filled words. She’s right on the edge when his thumb pushes harder against her clit. Her head falls back with a gasp. Dean loses any sense of control he had. His hips slam against her. The sound of it fills the room. The punishing pace he sets sends her into another orgasm.
He finishes inside of her with a groan. Just the feel of his hot cum is almost enough to set her off again. She squeezes around him. He hisses at the motion.
Once the lust has cleared and her brain starts to turn back on, she realises what she has done. She never once thought that she would be here. Naked, splayed out on a table in the middle of Dean Thomas’ bar. The fact that his cum is dripping out of her is enough to send her into a panic.
“I should go.” She mumbles as she puts her top back on. He tries to convince her otherwise, but she’s practically running out as he calls her name.
She almost lets her nerves get the best of her. She lingers outside The Flaming Lion much longer than what she would call acceptable. While last night had been … honestly the best sex of her life, but she had left so awkwardly.
She’s so busy pacing, contemplating if she should actually go in, that the door opening takes her by surprise.
“What are the chances?” He leans against the doorway with a rag in his hand and his wand sticking out of his back pocket. He’s smiling at her with one brow quirked.
“Well, I’m pretty close with the owner.” She replies in a hopeful tone.
“How close?” He’s teasing her. A good side that last night hadn’t ruined the friendship they have built.
“Well, I have it on pretty good authority he’s pretty great in bed.” He looks through his lashes with a small smile. “And he’s hopefully free for a date next week?”
He looks to the side with a grin. He pushes off from the door jam. Two of his fingers pull at her belt loops. Her hands press against his chest as she goes toward him willingly. His hand settles against her neck pulling her even further into him.
It’s strange how much she has come to crave him in such a short amount of time. But she does. So when his nose brushes against hers, she doesn’t give herself even a second to doubt herself. Her lips push up against his.
He’s grinning against her lips as his hands dive into her hair. They’re barely kissing as a smile soon takes over her face, too. “I’ll take that as a yes?”