Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Rules for Challenges

Pick Up Artist

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking

Summary: The Winchesters reluctantly agree to meet a 'city slicker hunter.' When it turns out that hunter is Cordelia Chase, things start to look up. Or do they? Light and funny.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Cordelia-Centered(Past Donor)CasFR18415,7421184,77221 Jul 1019 Jun 11Yes

Chapter 4

"No, you weren't imagining it." Reaching out, he carefully took her hand and sandwiched it between both of his. "From the first moment I saw you, and no, I don't mean the slap," he said, making a face as he recalled the time he and Dean agreed to meet with the 'city slicker hunter' as a favor to Bobby. "I mean after we talked, I knew. And after that, all our calls, you don't think I have a bunch of phone buddies, do you?" He shook his head. "After I got my head right, you were one of the first people I wanted to see, to talk to. I called, and now I know why you didn't take my calls. I got worried, even though Bobby said you were alive and kicking demon ass," he gave her a small smile. "But I had to see for myself."

A smile tugged at Cordy's mouth as she looked down to his hands enveloping hers. She knew it was probably out of their way to come here and he'd convinced Dean to come too. It meant a lot. She turned her hand over in his as she looked up at him through dark lashes. "I'm glad you came." Her mouth quirked and she touched his cheek. "There's just something really liberating about slapping you."

"Really?" He gave her hand a leery look. "Dean did say you have a mean right slap," he laughed. "Makes me afraid to find out about your right hook."

"Oh, yeah. The right slap is mean," Cordy said with a sage nod as her hand moved to his neck and lingered there. "But the right hook is a downright bitch. You don't want to mess with that..." she scooted a little closer, her body language giving him permission to do the same.

"I believe you," he said, swallowing hard when her fingertips danced over the sensitive skin under his jaw. He leaned in a little, his face only a few inches away from hers. "We could do a movie, or maybe go for a walk." The threat of a right hook kept him from mentioning dinner.
"Have you seen this neighborhood?" Cordy grinned, her fingers toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. "Not in the mood for a mugging, thanks."

She was wreaking havoc with his senses and if his alter ego hadn't behaved so badly, he'd be all over the invitation he saw in her eyes and body language. "Between you and Dennis, I think I'd feel quite safe. From the muggers, I mean," he clarified. His gaze dropped to her lips but he had the good sense to lift it back to her eyes.

Cordy chuckled. It was sweet how hard he was trying not be that guy that he'd been before. But she wasn't quite ready to let him off the hook completely. "Actually, you might be safer out there since Dennis is confined to the apartment. Like I said..." she inched closer until her lips ghosted next to his. "....he's very protective."

His hands automatically slipped up her arms. She was so close, he could feel her warm breaths on his face and drew in the scent of her tantalizing fragrance with each of his own breaths. "I see." Closing his eyes, he brushed his mouth against hers. God he'd forgotten how satin soft her lips were, and how one touch made him want a lot more than a chaste kiss. "Maybe if I offered to let you cuff me..." His eyes fluttered open, "I mean in a completely non-kinky way. Then he'd be less protective and I could get that kiss that I'm dying for," he admitted.

"Hmmm..." Cordy mused, her eyes rolling upward as if considering it. "Nope... I don't think that'd work..." she decided with a curt shake of her head. And then in a smooth movement, she unfolded her legs and pushed him back firmly against the couch as she swung her leg over his to straddle him. "I think you must be made to suffer." Her mouth pulled into a teasing grin as she slowly started unbuttoning his plaid shirt, mindful of her position in his lap and careful not to give him any direct contact.

Finding her practically on his lap, he couldn't help smiling. His hand went to her hip and when he felt her resist, he stopped trying to pull her down on top of him. Trying to sit still while she undid his shirt and moved over him, making him imagine what it would feel like to feel her weight on him, her chest pressed against his, her mouth sliding against his, he had an inkling of the torture she had in mind. "I can do suffering," he said, his other hand stroking her back, then playing with her hair. "If it's any consolation, I am suffering," he added a little shakily when she leaned in and his lips almost brushed against her throat.

"Good," she smiled against his ear before she pulled back and finished removing his plaid shirt. When he reached for her blouse, he batted his hand away and waggled her finger at him to make it clear she was in charge. Her fingers skimmed across his abs as she started to lift his t-shirt over his head and when she got a glimpse of his muscular frame, she bit her lower lip. While she was still fully clothed, her eyes drifted over him and she gave him an appraising look. "Yes, I think this will do nicely," she said with a thoughtful nod, clearly intending to objectify him.

Tossing the t-shirt aside, she leaned back in as if to kiss him only to divert her lips to his neck at the last moment. The tip of her tongue trailed along the well-defined contour of his muscle until her mouth found a nice tender spot and she nipped him with her teeth. When he jerked in response, she rotated her hips to grind herself against his thigh. As her kisses traveled over his chest, it became increasingly difficult to resist nestling herself over his groin. Still, she continued her slow torture, but as her breaths came more unevenly, she was starting to wonder who she was really torturing.

He tried to keep a firm grip on himself, knowing this was a test he had to pass if he was to have a shot at exploring this thing that was between them. He'd violated her trust and he was damned lucky she was giving him a second chance instead of running from him. Didn't mean it was easy. Not when her every touch made him crave more. Made him want to pull her down on him, made him want to kiss her until they were both out of breath. His breaths were coming out harsher, his body responding more intensely each time she ground down on his thighs or clamped hers around his. As she trailed hot kisses down his bare chest, he rolled his head back and moaned softly. "Lemme kiss you," he pleaded, his hand clenching slightly on her hip.

His strained voice and ragged breaths brought a satisfied smile to Cordy's lips. She pulled back, her hands settling on his shoulders as she looked at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. "You want to kiss me?" she lifted her weight and came back down in a slow grind, finally sinking against him to wedge herself against his arousal. She drew in a sharp breath and her fingers dug into his shoulders as the overpowering sensation shot through her core, but she still held his gaze. "I don't know... do you think you've suffered enough?"

As white hot heat lanced through him, Sam couldn't help raising his hips to gain more pressure. Bringing both hands up, he cupped her face, his long fingers carding through her hair. Running the pad of his thumb over her lips, he fought for control. "I don't know if the fires of hell could burn hotter. Yeah. I think I've suffered enough. Want your lips on mine. Want to hold you tight. Want to go up in flames with you, if you'll let me," he said, his gaze meeting hers. He'd dreamed of this, wanted it bad for so long, too damned long.

Swept up in the swell of emotion, Cordy's expression turned serious and she nodded, unable to express in words how she felt about him. She needed this. She needed him. All at once she leaned forward and her mouth crashed against his in a smoldering kiss and even as she crushed her body against him, she felt like she couldn't get close enough. As their kiss intensified, Cordy's hips moved on their own, seeking more of the carnal sensations that were burning through her like an inferno.

"Bedroom. Now." She gasped out the demand as their mouths came together again and again.

Her demand sent blood surging to his already hard cock. Sliding his hands all the way through her long hair and down her back, molding her body to his, he stood up, lifting her a little higher so she could lock her legs around his waist. Welding his mouth to hers, he kissed her deeply, weaving his tongue in and out of her mouth, savoring her taste as he walked toward the bedroom.

When she bucked against him, the blood roared in his ears. Groaning thickly, he cradled her against him, the heat of her body seeping right through his clothes. He stumbled once, then pushed the bedroom door open. Breaking the kiss, he muttered, "Dennis, get out," then kicked the door shut behind him.

The way she moved against him was driving him nuts. Turning, he sat on the edge of the bed with her on his lap. "So good, so sweet," he whispered, one hand moving to the back of her head and tangling his fingers in her hair. Moving his mouth down to her throat, he kissed and licked her sensitive flesh, his other hand roaming surely over her body.

With a soft moan, Cordy arched into him, her thick mane of dark hair tumbling off her shoulders as she threw her head back. "Oh God. Sam..." she murmured as each touch ignited a new flame. She rocked forward again and claimed his mouth in another long kiss as she tried to slow things down, but her body wasn't cooperating. His words were sweet, but his actions were sending her over the deep end and she found herself tugging at his jeans even as she rode herself against him.

"Right there with you," he whispered, catching the hem of her blouse and pulling it up, over her head in a smooth motion. Pulling back a little, he let his gaze travel slowly down her body, sucking his breath in at the sight of the curves of her creamy breasts peeking out of her lacy bra, and lower, to her narrow waist and flat stomach. Putting his hand on her stomach, he splayed his fingers wide and almost reverently slid it slowly up her body. "Didn't expect pink," he said, lightly cupping her breast. "You're just full of surprises." Leaning in, he feathered kisses starting from her collar bone down to the edge of her bra, his tongue dipping into the valley between her breasts.

"Fuschia," she corrected on a ragged breath, her fingers entwining in his curls as he moved down her body. "Pink is so passé," she arched back to allow him all the access he wanted as she reveled in the sensations that coiled through her.

"Is it?" He hummed against her soft skin, his hands moving up and down her sides. "Not if you're wearing it." Putting his arm around her waist for support, he lowered his head and kissed a line down the center of her body, nipping her lightly when he reached her naval. Tipping his head back, he looked up at her, his fingers skimming the straps of her bra, then slowly pulling them down her over her shoulders. Shifting, he let her feel how damned hard he'd gotten. "Want you," he said, moving one hand to unclasp her bra.

"Oh God," she repeated as her brain seemed to be short-circuiting just then. She wanted him too, but the fact that he was able to take it slow, as torturous as it was, told her this wasn't just a fly-by-night. This was real. There was something between them and the journey to find out just what that was, was proving downright rapturous. She moved against him, the friction of their jeans driving her to the brink.

"Want you," she told him, her voice husky as she looked at him through half-lidded eyes.

It was all it took. He unsnapped her bra and got it off her, dropping it onto the bed. Arms around her and one hand cradling her head, he twisted around and lowered her to the bed, nuzzling her throat and brushing his lips over her nipple. Feeling it bead under his mouth, he made a soft sound, then sucked on it, rolling his tongue around to pleasure her. Looking up, he met her eyes. She looked flushed, her lips were slightly swollen, and she was reaching for him. "Dreamed of this," he said with a nod, before sliding his hands under her shoulders and easily pushing her up the bed so her legs were no longer dangling off. He was straddling her hips but now he inserted one knee between her thighs as he lowered slightly down over her, placing one hand over hers, their palms sliding together as he kissed her, tangling his tongue with hers, making his dream come true.

"Back to the cheesy lines are you?" Her quip was chased by a throttled groan as his knee pressed between her legs. If the line had come from anybody else, she would have thought it was just that -- but from Sam, she believed it. She believed it because she'd dreamed of this too... so many nights, even after she had written him off as a lecherous creep, she had always been safe with him in her dreams.

Her thighs clenched tightly around his leg and she moved against him, their bodies already setting a natural rhythm as he lavished her body. "Hmm... Boxers or briefs...?" her hand slipped down his chest, fingers tracing the contours of his muscles until she reached his jeans. With a nimble flick she had the button open and she pulled the zipper down until she could feel his shape through tightly stretched cotton. "Oooh, boxer-briefs. Tricky..." she grinned up at him, her eyes alight with passion.

He chuckled and shook his head. "You're going to have me laughing through sex, aren't--" Not even a superhero could have continued to talk with Cordelia Chase touching him like this. Biting his lower lip, he watched her hand move up and down inside his pants. "Oh... God..." he shuddered with pleasure, unsure how long he could continue to force himself to go slow. Every fiber in his being said to let go, to let this happen, to take what she was offering him. Then again, that was the part of him his soulless self had listened to, so maybe a little torture was good for the soul. Better than the alternative.

When she pulled her hand out, he pushed the jeans down to his thighs, rocked back and sat down to pull them off. A moment later, he was lowering himself over her, kissing her, and making his way down her throat and chest, worshiping every inch of her.

In the brief moment it took Sam to shuck his boots and jeans, Cordy took a few deep breaths, forcing herself to relax and not get too far ahead of herself. But then his lips were back on her and her entire body bowed in response to his touch, pebbled nipples hardening to stiff peaks as he rolled his tongue over her. Her hands fisted in his hair and she mewled with pleasure as he explored every curve and contour with exquisite care.

She squirmed and rocked against him and she could feel how slick she was beneath her jeans. The way he moved with her, she felt like she was going go soaring into oblivion before they even got to the good part. But that was just the thing... it was all so good. It was hard to imagine how he could possible make her feel any better.

"Sam... Jesus. You're killing me..." she panted. Her fingers clawed at his bare back and she managed to hook him with her leg so she could pull his hips within reach. In a deliberate move, hand slipped below the waistband of his briefs and she gripped his cock with a firm fist. Her lips pulled into a playful grin and she looked up at him. "See what you've done? You've forced me to take matters into my own hands..." Instead of stroking him, she used her newfound leverage to guide him off to the side, forcing him to flip onto his back.

When Sam was right where she wanted him, Cordy let go of him and levered up. Kicking off her shoes, she started to shimmy out of her jeans. "Uh... 'lil help here?" she arched an expectant brow.

"Don't have to ask twice," he said, sitting up and curling his fingers over the waistline of her jeans at her hips and tugging first one side, then the other. "Dangerous curves," he teased, kissing her hip and moving his mouth down as he pushed the material all the way to her knees. Curling one arm around her waist, he pulled her close, "I really should check them thoroughly," he said, and did just that. He kissed, and licked and stroked his way down her body, nipping her when she didn't expect it. But even as he played with her, his need ratcheted up.

"Pants off, now," he said, pushing her down on her back and grabbing a hold of her jeans near her hems. In one, strong tug, he had them off her and was crawling up her body. He stroked her smooth thigh, squeezed it, and moved higher, his fingers slipping into her underwear as he covered her body with his again, and kissed her.

Cordy's gasp was cut short by a smoldering kiss that made her toes curl. She parted her legs and moaned into his mouth as she felt his steely length settle against her core, pushing the boundaries of the thin slips of fabric that separated them. Her hands smoothed over his muscular frame, running over his shoulder blades until she gripped the back of his neck, her tongue dueling with his with a promise of what was to come. Her legs wrapped around his hips and she bucked against him with increasing insistence.

He rocked harder against her, his mouth moving over hers, kissing her until they were both breathless. He couldn't get enough of her, of her taste, of the sounds she made for him, the way she held him and met him thrust for thrust. They moved in sync, as if they'd been loving each other forever. He broke the kiss and levered upright with the intention of shedding the rest of their clothing, only to be smacked in the forehead with something that fell onto Cordy's belly.

Startled, Cordy looked down to see the small foil square of a condom. Her head jerked sideways and she saw her nightstand drawer was open. "Geez Dennis! I was getting there. Get out!" she shouted before turning an apologetic look to Sam. When the bedroom door opened and closed her head fell back and she let out a breathless laugh.

"Agree with the sentiment, hate the delivery. Next time we're doing this in an iron reinforced room," he declared, exchanging a wry look with her. If he hadn't been so far gone, he might have had a lot more to say as he efficiently tore the foil packet and rolled the condom on.

When he kneeled between her legs, he knew she was ready for him. Gripping her hips, he lifted her up so her thighs bracketed his hips. He was aching to be inside her, and when their eyes met and locked, he knew it was mutual. He started to push inside, groaning as he was slowly sheathed inside her. She was so tight and hot and felt so damned good around him, just like he'd known she would.

Running his hand over her flat, slightly moist abs, he started to rock his hips. Each thrust sent jolts of electric heat through him, making him crazy for another hit, and another. "You're all sorts of incredible," he whispered hoarsely, tilting his head back and watching her intensely through heavy lidded eyes.

Her muscles tightened around him and she smiled when she drew a gasp from him. "Thank you, pilates," she said on a breathy laugh.

"Is that some Latin dude whose ass I should be kicking," he started to tease.

She let out a sharp laugh and redoubled her efforts. Her heels locked around him and she bucked her hips. Plunging deeper into her depths, he knocked her into a heightened state of arousal that had her entire body thrumming with new notes.

"More," she challenged, lifting her gaze to his, brown eyes darkened with lust.

The single demand filled him with unbridled need. Gripping her hips, he pulled part way out. Eyes locked with hers, he thrust his hips hard, burying himself deep inside her and biting his lip at the intensity of the sensations that swept through him. Giving her a slight nod, he started to move again, quick shallow strokes alternating with long hard thrusts that had the headboard hitting the wall. He tried to be careful with her but quickly learned she would have none of that, that she wouldn't let him hold back at all.

"Cor..." he groaned, the last of his control slipping when she used her legs to drag him closer, deeper insider her. Leaning forward, he grabbed the edge of the headboard with one hand and used it for leverage, pushing and pulling on it, speeding up when she started to writhe. He dropped down as far as he could, kissing her throat and chest, tasting honey and salt on his lips when he straightened and focused on her face.

She felt slow explosions go off inside her, like pyrotechnics igniting in a controlled implosion. “Sam... Oh God. Jesus. Sam...” she panted out his name, her arms wrapping around him, fingers gripping his shoulder blades to hold on as long as she could. “SamSamSam... don’t stop. Oh God. Please. Don’t ever stop,” her demands dissolved into frantic moans that joined his in a chorus of primal need.

The chain reaction started deep inside her core, sending shock waves of euphoria rippling throughout her body, down to the soles of her feet and out to her fingertips, overtaking her consciousness and carrying it along for the ride.

"Whatever you want, whatever you need," he answered, riding her harder, fighting with everything he had to stay on the very edge for as long as he could. His world narrowed to her and to the pressure building low in his belly. The sounds coming from him got louder and punctuated each deep thrust. He used every trick he knew to keep from coming, and then she would squeeze her inner muscles around him and the urge to finish would grip him. It was only her whispered demands and his deep desire to please her that kept him from releasing.

Time seemed to stop still. His skin felt damp, as did hers. Tortured sounds left both of them, hers driving him once more to the brink. "Cordy..." he put his hand on her stomach and pressed down each time he thrust inside her, his thumb gliding over her slickness, trying to drive her over the edge. "Please... please..."

There was no more holding back. Their bodies moved together, hot and slick like steam from a volcano ready to blow. All at once, Cordy's hips canted upward and her head threw back as she came apart, shattering into oblivion in a riot of sensations. Her body seized around him and she cried out, "Yes. Oh God, yesyesyes now-oh-God now!

"Oh God, yes," Sam echoed, gripping her hips and rocking into her harder, eyes squeezing shut, the veins in his neck bulging as he drove them home. He came hard inside her, shouting her name, straining to get closer even when it was impossible. "So. Damned. Good." Lowering her onto the bed, he collapsed on top of her, never pulling out as he sought out her sweet mouth and kissed her, silently thanking her for giving herself, this, to him, after everything. Running his fingers through her now tangled hair, he savored every moment she gave him.

"Amazing would be an understatement," he declared, breaking the kiss and lifting up onto his elbows so he could look down into her face. His breaths still came harshly, his heart beats were out of control, but his body relaxed against hers, their legs tangling.

Cordy's arms and legs clenched tightly as a final, shuddering aftershock rolled through her. When her muscles finally released, she felt like rubber, barely able to muster the energy to reach up and caress his face as she looked at him with complete wonder, her breast still heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. "Wow," her voice cracked on a hoarse whisper which caused her to erupt in a giggle, her mouth pulling into a wide smile. "I like a man who can follow instructions..." she pulled him into a long, lingering kiss, not ready to disengage their entangled bodies just yet.

Sam gave her a broad smile. "Follow instructions, huh? I--"

"Apparently can't follow instruction. Your cell phone is off." When Sam's and Cordelia's head whipped around toward him, Castiel gave a belated, "hello."

"Castiel?!" Cordy blurted when her eyes fell to the intruder in the tan trench coat. "What the hell are you doing here?" She asked using Sam's naked body as a shield. "I told you, I'm off the clock these days!"

"You know him?" Sam asked, fully expecting Castiel to disappear in light of the fact he'd caught them in bed. He should have known better. Almost in unison with Cordy, he yelled at the angel, "Get out!"

The door to the room opened, and Sam added, "you too! Dammit, it's way too crowded in here. Cas... dude, that means leave, and take the ghost with you."

"You know him?" Cordy cocked her head to look back at Sam before looking over his shoulder at Cas who had turned his back, but then was awkwardly turning toward the door as if unsure of what he was expected to do under the circumstances. If the Powers that Be had sent one of their head messengers, she guessed it had to be something important. She reached for the covers to drag them over Sam's bare ass - though he was pretty damn cute when he blushed. "Cas? Is the bat phone going off? What's the skinny?"

"I don't know any bat phone but Sam's phone should have been going off, as you put it. As for anything skinny... I didn't notice."

"Don't encourage him," Sam told her. "Can you ... you know, leave the room? I'm butt naked and--" He let out a sigh of relief when Cas disappeared and the door to the living room slammed shut.

"If you're almost done fornicating, I need to speak with you," came Castiel's voice from the other side of the door.

"We're not--" Sam was embarrassed, but when he saw amusement glinting in her eyes, he started to laugh as he started to get up. "It's not worth wasting my breath, he'll never change. Be right out, Cas," he said a little louder.

Cordy turned on her side and propped herself up with her elbow as Sam shifted off her. "So I thought you dealt with Angels, not Messengers..." she pushed her hair back off her face and flipped it over her shoulder. "How do you know Cas?"

"What messengers? Cas is an angel. Wings and all. Did I just let his secret slip?" He swung his legs off the bed and grabbed his jeans. Standing up, he pulled them on, and looked down at her, and apology forming on his lips.

"Messenger of the Powers that Be," she said as if that was explanation enough. "I told you I worked for them for a time - higher being and all. But I was more like an intern -- Cas was the top dog." She thought about it for a minute, watching as Sam dressed. "Angel, huh? I guess that makes sense if you're going to put it in Christian terms," she shrugged. It didn't really matter what you called them. In the end, humans were all pawns on a chessboard to the Powers... God... whatever.

"Cas was the only one who seemed to understand my position when things got out of control for me up there." Cordy reached up from the bed while he was still shirtless and pulled Sam back down so she could feel his broad shoulders as she looked into his eyes. She remembered Sam really had nothing good to say about the Angels when they first met. "He's one of the good ones... you know that, right?"

"Except for his sense of timing," Sam nodded. He ran his knuckles down the side of her face and looked at her earnestly. "I really don't want to leave right now. Dinner. Movies. I want it all," he said. "Not just..." he gave a one shouldered shrug.

"I know," she nodded her understanding. And she meant it. "But you know, when an Angel calls..." she shrugged. "What can you do when you're in the world saving business? At least you're not blowing me off for some lame accounting job like the last guy I tried to date. It didn't work out well for him," she grinned.

"Is it scary that I believe you?" Chuckling, he leaned in and stole a kiss. Seeing his shirt wasn't in the room, he headed for the door and then turned. "I'll call you." He didn't add a request that she take his calls. "Soon."

"You better," she said, her smile belying the warning in her voice. When the door shut, she fell back into her pillow still grinning.

The instant he was in the living room, his shirt flew through the air toward him. He tried to snatch it, but Dennis held it so that he could put his arms up, and the ghost pulled it down over his head. Next his over shirt smacked him in the head. "Ah... Cordy, I think you have a jealous ghost on your hands," he said. "Iron... next time, I'm definitely bringing..." He felt Castiel's hand on his shoulder, and something was shoved in his hand just as they disappeared.


"Sam, thank God. I was worried you were getting slapped to death, or something," Dean said, his gaze moving to the boxer shorts in Sam's hand. "Emphasis on the something."

"No, he was simply fornicating," Cas told Dean.

"Will you please stop saying that word?"

Laughing at his brother's exasperation, Dean added fuel to the fire. "Come on, you can tell us all 'bout your adventures in fornicating. We got a long drive."

Looking between the two men, Sam strode to the door of the motel room, tossing his shorts into the wastepaper basket on his way out.


The End

You have reached the end of "Pick Up Artist". This story is complete.

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking