moritat | there is always another au

Then thankfully she hasn't inched any further in to actually corner him on this couch.

"I feel the same about the history of art. It's saved my life, I can say that much." And no more, because she swiftly changes focus. "How did you end up funding us?"

"Your own personal medicine!" He beams at her. "Well, we have English and European artists on display plenty around here, but so little from the Americas. I thought some diversity would be nice to see, and educational, not simply the same few well known paintings on rotation. I do things at the gallery already, so it wasn't much of a stretch to set this up."

"Mm, you made everything possible!"

A larger audience, a spacious gallery, advertisement in the right ear, and so on. Money makes the art world go round. Paloma nods enthusiastically along with their shared ideals. It brings them closer. Literally. They're probably inches away from touching lips... and hers are so plush and inviting.

"I would like to think I helped, at least!" He's not so sure about making everything possible though, that's a bit too much credit. "All I really did was set it rolling."

Her lips are extremely tempting. And he's a weenie. But the more he looks at her, the more he's drawn to her lips, until finally he goes for it.

He, uh, lubricated the gravy train.

Seeing as Paloma was sort of hoping intensely for another chance to kiss him, she's very quick on the uptake. She stretches herself up and into him, opening up for a leisurely repeat of what the car kiss had become. Her unclaimed hand rests above his knee to balance in an otherwise precarious half-seat. "Mmhmm," she hums agreeably. Rather agreeably.

Yeah, that's pretty agreeable. And he feels much the same about it. It's easy to get carried away, when she's so agreeable. His fingers curl around hers, and his lap is certainly open for sitting. The other hand brushes back her hair, and eventually manages to tangle itself in.

She ought to be ashamed of herself, years-long drought or none. Macking on her boss's investor and patron like a cat in heat-- like his brother--

Paloma feels a massive lurch of heat between her thighs and, mumbling something about truffles in guilty confession, sort of tumbles onto Jekyll. She straddles his knee and manages not to rock or grind on it, tempting as it may be. "I ordered something expensive," she says thickly.

Yeah Paloma, don't be like Hyde, disgusting.

It's not like he's much better. He might not be so much of the aggressor as Paloma is, he's not the one getting into her lap, but he's not innocent in this either. "Is that a guilty confession?" He laughs, bumping his nose into hers. "That's fine, I would have given a daily limit if I minded."

Don't call her an aggressor! Call her-- desperado. Makes sitting on his knee like he's her sugar daddy more attractive.

She holds onto his hand tenaciously, worried someone (either) might become sensible again if released. His fingers curling through her hair have Paloma positively melting, snapping up kiss after tiny kiss. Who's to stop them? Food service won't arrive for another half hour at least...!

"But," mmmmm, "I asked for truffle. Isn't it more than a plane ticket for just... one... meal?" Her pauses are punctuated with heavy and heavier kisses.

He laughs, "Oh, truffles? That's really living the high life!" But he goes in for a kiss, hers might be heavy, but his is soft, quick, and sweet. "But I think having done such excellent work, indulgence has been well earned!

I mean, please don't order it for every meal or I'll be bankrupt sooner than later, but it's really no problem once in a while." Actually even eating truffles for every meal probably wouldn't catch up to his daily earnings, so...

He stokes her guilty anxieties and calms them in one continuous gesture. It doesn't cross her mind that he might exaggerate for comedic effect.

"Oh!" Shall Paloma apologize again! She runs her palm up his sweater vest, marveling at the volume of her attraction to him. Guess nerds are in. "Watch out for my boss."

"Oh? Will she be buying up all the caviar and truffles in London?" He nuzzles her cheek with his nose once he realises he's been staring at her eyes too long. "I suppose I should allow it and not play favourites, although I do have a favourite..."

Understandable. Paloma's are a rich shade of bottomless browned amber.

Her breath catches, skin prickling all the way down her spine. Pretty words she's never heard and has no defense against. "You do? Have-- have I met them?" She squirms to adjust on his leg, sending a sweet jolt up from her...

"I suppose that depends on your definition, but you do know her very well, better than anyone else could!" The silliness of both playing at it being a mystery, and of the flirting in the first place, is almost overwhelming. He shines with a bright smile and brighter cheeks. Brighter still for her position on him.

A challenging exercise with her jeans on; she stops while she's ahead, but the thin material of his pants surely can't hide Paloma's heat from him. If it burns her, it scorches Jekyll. And the naughtiness of it is the best part. They shouldn't be doing this.

"I don't think I can handle the competition," she whispers into his smile.

"You have nothing at all to worry about!" He blushes all the more. But it turns into something closer to fear when he notices the heat coming from her, and worse from him. He has to give himself a talking to. Don't get a goddamn boner. Nothing's happening here it's fine, it's good, keep it together, don't weird her out.

Trouble is, the longer they go without attacking eachother's faces, the more likely it is she'll look down. So of course the solution to keeping her from noticing his growing chub is to go in for more kisses, and not to stop. Unfortunately this also worsens the situation.

If she hasn't slid the rest of the way into his lap, they're fine. If she... doesn't...

She ends up slung sideways with both arms looped behind his neck, urging Jekyll to dip slightly for the joy of it. The hardness on her left thigh is hardly a blip on her radar with his genius distraction. True brilliance. Only she hasn't thought it through given the distribution of weight, how gravity weighs them down over the cushions.

It's getting a little out of hand maybe. By the time he finds himself over top of her, it's definitely gone too far.

Luckily a gentle knock at the door saves them, and makes him jump about ten feet in the air off of her back into his own space. Personal space.

How long had they taken to make out? When did she start feeling for the zipper, button, whatever keeping his pants up? Well, not long enough for her hand to make it lower than his navel.

The lost time leaves Paloma spaced out and glazed over, chest heaving in a disgraceful pant. Her legs, spread wide, complete the picture of pretty and devauched. Croaking, "I'll... I'll get," and stumbling to open up before anyone gets suspicious.

The delivery boy is servile, silent perfection. He leaves the steaming platter and Jekyll's ice cream behind, closing the door on the room with its electrified air.

It gives him a moment to rearrange himself, to tug that sweater vest down and maybe take some attention away from his dick. He should probably just dump that ice cream down his pants.

"I hope you enjoy it...!" It's all he manages to croak out, too embarrassed to meet her eyes.

What she'd enjoy more than the fucking truffles is Jekyll touching her sweet spots. A polite guest, she keeps the wild demand to herself.

This time she's careful to sit with enough space between them for Jesus. "Mhmm," she says with a pronounced rasp. The smell of flavorful meat isn't helping to banish the bad ho thoughts. "God, I hope he doesn't think I'm a hooker!"

He's having much the same thought, jumping between "I hope she doesn't think I'm trying to treat her like a hooker" and "I hope she doesn't think I'm disgusting and pushy". Room for Jesus is good though. It helps.

He'll just take that ice cream and reprimand himself for ordering something so silly, but enjoy it nonetheless. "She's out quite late, huh..." Guess they're all alone..........

Ice cream did seem a bizarre choice. Someone who kisses like that is entitled to eccentricity.

Paloma mutely relishes her first experience with truffle in any form. The pause gets a tad lengthy, a lil awkward. She swallows. "Edward did say, umm, drinks on the house."

Oh, God, what if they're banging.

"Oh, I see, then she's taking full advantage of that I suppose." Shit, if she was liable to appear any moment they'd be safe from themselves.

"I, um, I do have patients tomorrow..." Maybe he should go. Not that he wants to, but it would be wise, wouldn't it?

The sooner he leaves, the sooner she can finger herself to sleep!!

Positive her nipples are going to poke out of her top and spear the filet mignon, stabbing another incredible portion, she nods grimly. "I have..."

Well. "I have dinner..."

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cagedinflesh - 2017-08-05 12:46 (UTC) - Expand