02-12-2014, 05:53 PM
Spectra could not recall any time before witnessing bewilderment drape itself across Hood's expression. A rush curled upward from her toes just thinking about it. He hadn't known it was her doing that sent the man to the cold and lonely sleep. Hood, who knew so much by a single glance, did not know her secret.
She might have told him had he asked, but apparently the thought never crossed his mind. Instead, he rummaged through the corpses, and identified the metal necklaces men of the military wore. To find them, Hood trod all through the mess. The scotch had thinned out the blood, but it was already congealing where it didn't seep into the floor. The excitement of earlier was displaced by no small measure of disgust. Killing was a dirty business ... literally.
Mention of police made her examine the remains of her dress, but even if Spectra were not disgusted by its state, there was nothing worth pulling over her shoulders anyway. What would she wear when the police arrived? With police came reporters, and with reporters came cameras. There was probably a robe somewhere, but the idea of a bath robe on the front page sickened her.
A valuable, hand made suit jacket that Hood had so neatly folded and placed aside before their fun began would be quite fitting. She could roll up the sleeves and button it at her naval. It'd hang just to the top of her thighs and show off the ridges and straps of her garter.
Suddenly he was holding her. The act caught Spectra by surprise. Was Hood feeling vulnerable? In need of some sort of comfort? Or was he simply hoping to savor one last moment before their lives were invaded by police and drama? She pat him on the back and sensed every rise and fall of his chest against hers.
"There are a hundred reasons they could be after me,"
she replied and peeked away from their hug, but did not release him to do so, he was simply too delicious to release at the moment, and flashed him a coy smirk. "Is there any reason they could be after you?"
She might have told him had he asked, but apparently the thought never crossed his mind. Instead, he rummaged through the corpses, and identified the metal necklaces men of the military wore. To find them, Hood trod all through the mess. The scotch had thinned out the blood, but it was already congealing where it didn't seep into the floor. The excitement of earlier was displaced by no small measure of disgust. Killing was a dirty business ... literally.
Mention of police made her examine the remains of her dress, but even if Spectra were not disgusted by its state, there was nothing worth pulling over her shoulders anyway. What would she wear when the police arrived? With police came reporters, and with reporters came cameras. There was probably a robe somewhere, but the idea of a bath robe on the front page sickened her.
A valuable, hand made suit jacket that Hood had so neatly folded and placed aside before their fun began would be quite fitting. She could roll up the sleeves and button it at her naval. It'd hang just to the top of her thighs and show off the ridges and straps of her garter.
Suddenly he was holding her. The act caught Spectra by surprise. Was Hood feeling vulnerable? In need of some sort of comfort? Or was he simply hoping to savor one last moment before their lives were invaded by police and drama? She pat him on the back and sensed every rise and fall of his chest against hers.
"There are a hundred reasons they could be after me,"
she replied and peeked away from their hug, but did not release him to do so, he was simply too delicious to release at the moment, and flashed him a coy smirk. "Is there any reason they could be after you?"