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Jean shines his flashlight around the dusty crawlspace, not seeing anything interesting. There are cobwebs everywhere, and Jean would bet no one has been in these walls for at least a decade.
“Fuck,” Jean says, as he turns a corner and stops. “Dead end. It’s too narrow to go any further.”
Sasha presses against his side, peeking her head around his chest. “Let me see.”
Sasha starts to push her way through. There’s not much room for her to squeeze past, and she gets stuck after only a step.
Jean can feel her ass pressed against his crotch.
“Should’ve cleaned the pipes,” Jean groans to himself, staring at the ceiling as he wills himself not to get a boner.
“What?” Sasha asks, pausing her squirming to look at him in confusion.
“I said I wish the pipes were cleaner,” Jean says, a little louder.
Sasha stares for a second before realization hits.
“Ugh, gross Jean,” and then she’s forcing her way past him, rubbing her pert ass against his now very interested dick.
Jean lets out a groan as Sasha finally slips free on the other side of him.
“I can fit, I’ll go ahead,” Sasha says, stepping into the narrower passage.
“What, alone?!”
“I’ll be fine,” Sasha says with a huff, stepping further into the darkness.
Jean wants to call her back. This is his least favorite part of being a hunter. Having to separate from his partners in dangerous situations.
He can only be thankful that Connie has already finished inspecting the attic, and is waiting safely in the lobby.
Jean listens to Sasha’s footsteps become more distant as he tries not to think about her body against his. He’s shared a bed with her plenty of times while on the road, but it’s not like they cuddle.
Sasha’s body pressed against his sent a thrill down his spine, and he still feels the arousal low in his belly. He reaches for the feeling, imagining Sasha’s ass against him, her back pressed against his front.
Jean’s eyes snap open as he realizes the sound of Sasha’s footsteps have disappeared completely.
“Sasha?” Jean calls out.
There’s no response. Shit.