03-08-2014, 10:39 AM
Spectra ducked swiftly into the car, but not before flashing the onlookers a glimpse of thigh. By now the excitement had worn to ordinary impatience, a sentiment not helped by traffic delays.
The leather beneath her was cold against her legs. The seat warmers had not had a chance to make the welcome cozy and restful, so she wondered whether Hood kept the car nearby in wait should he have sudden need to call upon it. As she wondered about many of the plans constantly churning in the back of his mind, what else was being planned behind the glass-like focus of his façade?
As the seat gradually warmed, Spectra undid the button and folded back the panels of his suit jacket. Her stomach was bare, and moved subtly with every deep breath she took. She was looking out the window, watching the faceless piles of people pass them by. The district sidewalks were busy despite the hour, and behind tinted windows, she witnessed their passage with blasé interest.
Bored, as the scent of blood and flush of adrenaline had faded, she pulled a knee up beneath her, and twisted to face Hood with an elbow perched between the seat and a backturned wrist placed against her cheek. Her hair fell as dark rivulets down the sides of her neck, and their ends tickled the curves of cleavage otherwise hidden by his jacket.
"You keep a home, here?"
She asked as cynicism laced the contours of her accent like powdered cocaine streaked on the edge of glass. "'Home is where the heart is,' they say."
She placed a fingertip against his chest and with it trailed out the shape of a heart.
"¿Y dónde está tu corazón?"
-And where is your heart, she asked, peering deep beyond the reflection of herself in his eyes as though she saw straight through him.
"I thought you did not have a heart,"
she added. A slight smile of approval upturned the corners of her mouth. She would be disappointed to learn otherwise. Soullessness was one of his best attributes.
The leather beneath her was cold against her legs. The seat warmers had not had a chance to make the welcome cozy and restful, so she wondered whether Hood kept the car nearby in wait should he have sudden need to call upon it. As she wondered about many of the plans constantly churning in the back of his mind, what else was being planned behind the glass-like focus of his façade?
As the seat gradually warmed, Spectra undid the button and folded back the panels of his suit jacket. Her stomach was bare, and moved subtly with every deep breath she took. She was looking out the window, watching the faceless piles of people pass them by. The district sidewalks were busy despite the hour, and behind tinted windows, she witnessed their passage with blasé interest.
Bored, as the scent of blood and flush of adrenaline had faded, she pulled a knee up beneath her, and twisted to face Hood with an elbow perched between the seat and a backturned wrist placed against her cheek. Her hair fell as dark rivulets down the sides of her neck, and their ends tickled the curves of cleavage otherwise hidden by his jacket.
"You keep a home, here?"
She asked as cynicism laced the contours of her accent like powdered cocaine streaked on the edge of glass. "'Home is where the heart is,' they say."
She placed a fingertip against his chest and with it trailed out the shape of a heart.
"¿Y dónde está tu corazón?"
-And where is your heart, she asked, peering deep beyond the reflection of herself in his eyes as though she saw straight through him.
"I thought you did not have a heart,"
she added. A slight smile of approval upturned the corners of her mouth. She would be disappointed to learn otherwise. Soullessness was one of his best attributes.