Paloma tuts and flicks his nose with those toes he's been salivating over, making her question whether to hide her stockings in the clutch now that one is damp (and smells like semen).
Her instep drags down the side of his lovely throat. "Suits you," she tells him huskily.
Affords them a chance to calm down. Paloma needs time to squelch her appetite in every aspect. Closing her eyes to experience only the orchestra's practiced notes anchors her to the present, where Jekyll has the whole of his blood and she doesn't open him. Doesn't open her cunt to him and damn the music.
A quick hand signal to indicate their volume stay low.
"Twenty years ago I was that gullible," she murmurs, eyeing him sideways. He cuts a catching figure and it's easy to remember how little convincing he'd need to straight up leave... "Your eyes, Henry. Hyde."
It's a good thing she corrects herself, because the grimace he makes upon hearing Henry is almost dangerous in itself. "That's the way they are, I don't fucking know why, a chemical reaction or some shit. Either way, I'm not Henry, how difficult is that to understand?"
Her hackles raise at the insult, particularly given the good deed she's just done. When he sounds like any other man, she contemplates leaving alone. It doesn't seem as if Henry will come out to play for the foreseeable future.
Perhaps a frosty cold shoulder will reveal her interest in being barked at.
He rolls his eyes, but hangs over the edge of the seat to get her attention again. "Look, your little boy toy's still floating around in here, he's the one that gives a flying fuck about science. I'm here, that's all I know or care about."
Except he realises he hasn't yet kissed her, and he wants to.
A flying fuck about science, art-- the thing they dressed to the nines for-- and not being caught out mid-coitus. She assumes?
Hyde is successful in diverting her attention right where he wants it. Partly reassured, her lips purse. "Boy toy? What's that make you to me, young man?" Such a shame a mouth this kissable keeps playing with him.
"I guess I wouldn't mind being that either." His smirk and quirked brow say plenty. "I'll be your pet, scold me when I'm bad, reward me when I'm good, and take care of my needs..."
He wins a piggish snort, not disbelieving but very doubtful he could make her sweat unless she wills it to happen. Where DID an ego this massive come out of? Nowhere sunny.
"Of course, I'm a lord, I'll give you anything!" He laughs, before adding, "Well, Jekyll is. But who's got access to his bank account?" That's Hyde, it him.
Impossible to deter him with reular grade sarcasm.
"I'm not an escort," she informs him blandly. "But I can recommend you a service, if you want to throw your money around." Wait a minute. Lord? He said lord, didn't he? Nervous Henry Jekyll?
He scoffs, "Like hell, you think I need to pay? ...Jekyll might appreciate it though." While he's held a sarcastic tone, that part is different, mocking, but without sarcasm. "Then again, he probably frequents it already!"
Paloma drums her fingers over her knee, counts to ten, and smiles vaguely.
"Yet somehow Henry is the one who took me out tonight. Who knows if I'd have said 'yes' if you were asking, Hyde? With all your money." Her head sways to the Mozart.
"It's hardly a matter of necessity, even if he's a bumbling fool, at least he's handsome, right? Besides some people like you go for that, apparently." He shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head. It's not like he cares to take someone on a date anyway. "You should know your boyfriend likes whores."
The music. She's here because Jekyll offered peaceful companionship and uninterrupted music. Hyde ensures that she has neither.
Suddenly her melancholy slam into Paloma, hard. Why stay when they've both had what they wanted and nothing worth keeping is left behind? She dips for the clutch beside her chair and stands with what dignity she can muster with sticky inner thighs. Hyde is given a tight nod, disappointed eyes, and a view of her retreating ass.
"Hey--" Well that gets him to actually care. Immediately he leaps up to follow, raising his voice once they've made it out the lobby doors. "You're just gonna leave without saying anything now?!"
He grabs her by the elbow to try to make her stop. And he does intend to make her, judging by the force he uses.
Hearing his quickened footsteps, she speeds up enough to have made him work to catch up without moving faster than a jog. Pretty nimble for a wide-hipped woman in heels.
The night has a heat that coulf never rival California on its weakest day. Speaking of weak, he's yanked along by the momentum of her 'walk' until she remembers to cool it with feats of strength. Paloma stops as abruptly as she left, a bored valet eyeing the altercation.
"No, I'm not done!" He grumbles, though finally he notices that strength, and so his eyebrows raise. "Are you just going to run off or what?! I thought we were going to walk in the park."
Oh. She can tell the valet has his finger on a button as he stares at them in consternation. After all, who's going to leave an expensive show early unless it's serious? Going slowly, Paloma plucks Hyde's fingers off of her elbow, one at a time.
Her brow furrows, and the ugly Beast stirs. "Replay what you said back to yourself and ask me again if I'm leaving!"
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Her instep drags down the side of his lovely throat. "Suits you," she tells him huskily.
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Once he pulls his pants back up, he slinks into his chair, not bothering to be anything but disheveled.
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"What're you on?" Her voice is too casual.
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It hasn't really occured to him to explain what's going on. And even when she asks, it still doesn't.
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God. What on earth?
She licks her lips. "What are you taking?"
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"This is just the way I am, is that so surprising?" She hasn't even seen anything yet, geez.
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"Twenty years ago I was that gullible," she murmurs, eyeing him sideways. He cuts a catching figure and it's easy to remember how little convincing he'd need to straight up leave... "Your eyes, Henry. Hyde."
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Perhaps a frosty cold shoulder will reveal her interest in being barked at.
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Except he realises he hasn't yet kissed her, and he wants to.
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Hyde is successful in diverting her attention right where he wants it. Partly reassured, her lips purse. "Boy toy? What's that make you to me, young man?" Such a shame a mouth this kissable keeps playing with him.
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Paloma looks away from his smugness, mulling it over. If ever this was an unwise liaison before...
"And you'd keep me warm?"
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"Oh, you've got money! Well, in that case!"
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"I'm not an escort," she informs him blandly. "But I can recommend you a service, if you want to throw your money around." Wait a minute. Lord? He said lord, didn't he? Nervous Henry Jekyll?
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"Yet somehow Henry is the one who took me out tonight. Who knows if I'd have said 'yes' if you were asking, Hyde? With all your money." Her head sways to the Mozart.
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Suddenly her melancholy slam into Paloma, hard. Why stay when they've both had what they wanted and nothing worth keeping is left behind? She dips for the clutch beside her chair and stands with what dignity she can muster with sticky inner thighs. Hyde is given a tight nod, disappointed eyes, and a view of her retreating ass.
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He grabs her by the elbow to try to make her stop. And he does intend to make her, judging by the force he uses.
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The night has a heat that coulf never rival California on its weakest day. Speaking of weak, he's yanked along by the momentum of her 'walk' until she remembers to cool it with feats of strength. Paloma stops as abruptly as she left, a bored valet eyeing the altercation.
She looks at his hand. "Take that off of me."
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Her brow furrows, and the ugly Beast stirs. "Replay what you said back to yourself and ask me again if I'm leaving!"
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