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She gave Adrian an easy out, but he didn’t take it. At first she thought he planned to make some irritating display of contemplation, but the way he thrust his hand so quickly away from his face and into his pocket suggested a moment of lapse instead. It was upon witness of such unlikely imperfection that Natalie decided to place her trust in allowing this connection to play itself out. It didn’t escape her that though he was blunt, he obfuscated any attempt at answering her question, of course. There was a chameleonic shine to him, and she had the sensation of being learned. While it suited him to do so, she suspected he would mould to whatever he thought she desired to see. She minded the ramifications of neither observation.
“You are tolerable,” she corrected. It was spoken with the cutting swipe of an insult, but the coyness of her attention softened the lie of it, probably because he was correct that she would prefer this arrogant charm over his bland niceties in the club. Adrian proved he had been listening at least; his accusations even hit upon some truths she was surprised he had understood. As he spoke Natalie gave him the stage, but beyond the slight curve of her lips she employed his own tactic against him, and committed to little. He could determine of her reaction what he wished.
He drew closer again, and she neither beckoned nor moved away. The desire she saw there was nothing new. It was why she’d never told Aaron who she was, and why when Jay had finally sought her out at the ball she had been disappointed to realise it was only to ask for her grandfather’s help securing his passage home. Her blood always amounted to more than her person; a fear that bit even when it turned out she was wrong. In Africa she’d shrugged the shackle of identity free for a time, and fought it off for longer since her return to Custody soil, but her situation now was vastly changed. And there were no illusions here.
She made Adrian close the entire distance, but he found reward when he did. Her kiss was not one of abeyance or capture, but neither did it taste of the sterility of a transaction. It tasted of want. His persistence unfurled something in her, but it was something she chose not to examine in the moment. The feeling pressed upon an old wound, but the flare of pain unburdened a release, like a breath she had not realised she’d been holding. Tumbling into bed with strangers was an old self-medicating vice; a connection she sought time and again when her world shattered upon rock bottom. Something relegated firmly to the past could not be broken or besmirched. She never looked back the morning after.
Some reckless part of her wanted to draw him back just to see if he’d follow; because he was crisp and clean and expensive, and the room around them cleaved in darkness and dust. Her touch traced the warm skin beneath his collar like a summons. But it was a restlessness that would burn before she was sure of his intentions. Or of her own.
It wasn’t demurity that ultimately kept her in check, though she’d certainly let him think it, but understanding of her own nature.
“Temptation’s half the battle won,” she teased. A hand softened the ruffled collar, and she did not move away from the embrace. Truth was there was a great depth of want in Natalie, and even she could not truly say to what end. But she was tired of the powerlessness of loss, and tired of being at the mercy of others. When her eyes met his again there was something harder there.
“This past year I have lost more than I care to recount. I don’t intend to be in a position to allow it to happen again.”
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Once liberated, much of his previous patience was now thinned by passion. He’d made his interest plain, and Natalie, well-balanced between enticing and teasing, expertly played the hard to get. Thus when her ardor turned receptive, Adrian scooped the small-framed woman into his arms with hungry response.
She tasted like cocktails and mint and smelled of perfume and luxury. Yet he wondered how much of the senses were hers and how much were an adopted projection of what she wanted others to see. The enigma of it all was enticing, and nothing frustrated Adrian more than the mystery he could not solve.
Her fingers found the curve of his collar, and his hands pressed the cage of her ribs in return. It was a passion that summoned them both, and Adrian let himself loose to the throes. The minutes were exquisite. The touch of skin unexplored promising new thrills. Lips grazed the hollow beneath her jaw, still clean shaven despite the hour, and relished in the hum of pleasure he might summon. He was mindful of the expensive dress as his palms pressed along her hips with all the appreciation of the flesh beneath.
The eventual break left him panting. The width of his chest’s movement revealed the depths with which he allowed himself freedom from self-contained rules and boundaries. The body did not lie, though a firm-jawed discipline usually kept lust at bay. If only to see what she would say, he paused. He had no idea what to expect. Such was the rarity at which he encountered someone he could not dance on marionette strings.
She spoke in riddles, and while this was another that he did not understand. Nor did he probe to find out more, wanting her to offer it rather than have him chase. Just like the kiss. He had asked for something, and she opened her vulnerability just enough to allow him a glimpse within. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. It was all he'd been wanting.
“You can’t lose something you don’t have to begin with,” he responded with just as much coy riddle. Maybe he was suggesting an alternative to the norm of relationships. He’d never once been saddled to a companion. He did not intend to offer commitment. Adrian was not a man that readily formed attachments - neither among business nor among women. Even his own parents were easily cast aside when the ties that bound them frayed. Attachment belied loss. One was not possible without the other. Suggesting as much did not give Adrian pause. And he would never again put himself in such a position.
He wasn’t going to start now, but sharing an evening (or night) with a dynamic, maddening, interesting woman was not the worst way to spend time. Though as soon as he said it, a flicker of doubt flushed his gaze, foolishly wondered if she meant the school — or him.
He did not desire to give her the chance to clarify. There was unlikely to be anywhere to realistically retire, and despite the victory of the moment, Adrian wasn’t so desperate to conquer to take her in the dust and filth. He was content to enjoy himself in the moment and see where things landed - there was still the return drive to the city.
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The passion surprised her, maybe because she had been expecting something tame and careful; something that tested its footing before it revealed its nature. But he was sure of himself. His hands trailed anticipation, and branded her with warmth where they retreated. Afterwards, Natalie watched the heavy rise and fall of his chest for a long moment before her pale eyes lifted to his. She’d teased him so slyly about temptation precisely because she recognised it was a double-edged sword – and she was tempted for all the obvious reasons. But it wasn’t sign of his arousal that shivered her through with desire then; it was the iron-clad evidence of his self-control. The carnality of what it so neatly hid.
And how he waited.
Adrian had misunderstood her words, though it didn’t matter, and she felt no inclination to unravel that puzzle laid between them.
She’d been talking about accumulation of power; about why she intended to stay in a city she had made sure he understood she disliked. For while Natalie might use what advantages were born to her in pursuit of something meaningful, and do so ruthlessly, she was not naturally inclined to hoard or brandish power for its own sake. She’d been running from it her entire life. But her motivations now all coalesced upon a single point of light in the darkness – and in that, her heart had drowned too deep, and she already had everything to lose. It was why she was in Moscow at all, not escaped to some distant corner of the world to tame the restlessness of ghosts old and new, and do so in stubborn anonymity.
Her tone was hard not because it protected something fragile inside, and certainly not to inspire comfort for her losses or share fear of future ones, but because it was an indomitable fusion of promise and threat.
The brief flash of his own hesitancy, quickly swallowed by patience, suggested he had already second-guessed himself, but he was wrong in that too. Whatever he had thought she meant, his response landed on firm ground. Natalie might spy the hairline insecurities in his foundations, but she had no desire to worry at his flaws. She had no reason to. He was a fortress of a man, in more ways than one, and she wanted the refuge. “I’m not so delicate you can’t say it plain. You’re not reading me wrong,” she said, smirking as a thumb smoothed the line of smudged lipstick from her mouth. Briefly she wondered what had cut him so badly he reacted that way, or if it was perhaps just natural. He’d mentioned an estranged family, but some people were just like that; walled off bastions, even in times of peace. It didn’t matter to her either way. She wasn’t laying siege to a heart.
“You want me,” she told him, repurposing his own words, though it was expressed with rather more seduction than his cocky charm. The husky remnants of lust was still in her voice; she was well aware of it. Adrian could find a bedmate anywhere, as could she, if either of them chose. A throwaway passion; satiation of a moment. Natalie was well acquainted – in fact she’d been ruminating it only moments before, knowing the dalliance would burn any interest she had in Adrian’s investment after. She would cut the connection before he had the chance to. But if he had been right about one thing, it was that she didn’t want what she could get from anyone. “I’m tempted, I’ll admit…”
She was teasing him, blatant now, because she knew he was not going to clarify his intentions; that he wanted her to do it for them. She had no issue with obliging. In the club she had dismissed his reservedness as uninteresting and timid. But a peek at the joints between his armour told her otherwise. She’d wager Adrian was used to getting exactly what he wanted. So was Natalie.
“I like you,” she said, “and it will never be more than that.” There was no sentimentality to the way she said it, just the sensuality of silk across steel, and a gaze pale as distant starlight. No explanation, of course. Barely any space separated them, but she closed it until there was only a promise of heat. “I want you.” The whisper curled into the shell of his ear. Nothing but her breath touched, and if she was agonisingly close, it was not in invitation but anticipation. She wasn’t talking about just once. “I want whatever this connection is, for as long as it lasts. But I won’t be distracted by it.”
The cool rush of space opened between them as she withdrew. Her expression was impenetrable, but for the way the lingering hint of her smirk deepened to something quite wicked.
“You can think about it.”
[[you can assume she would head back to the car]]
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She was right. He did want her. The desire flushed his cheeks and gave steady weight to the rise and fall of his chest, but he reaction of the body was soon contained, packaged away safely so that it could not be used against him. Adrian’s convictions would see him through to the end of an age such as its strength. He allowed himself the indulgence of a woman and all that came with it on a partially regular basis. He had no want for company, and he had no interest in more than a passing interlude. He was the one to leave before falling asleep. He did not call again. He did not give pursuit where it was clearly a lost cause (rare as that was). There was no giving away of hearts nor threat of losing his focus, but for all his creed, Adrian was still a man.
He wanted Natalie because she walked a line of rejection and enticement. He enjoyed the game while it lasted, but was ready to move on to other playable fields if she did not so much as make a small advance. He wanted her to come to him, and she when she did, she found a receptive partner. She had to give a little to get something back, and in Adrian, she would find that the return would be more than she ever expected (as partners or lovers).
Her whispered confession rent a pleasant chill down his spine. Like ice dousing hot stone with steam. He did not grab her shoulders as his thoughts tempted him to do. Nor did he snatch the back of her neck and push his tongue greedily into her mouth. He did not move much at all but to allow her freedom to explore what she found so desirable, and there was much to enjoy, but while she did, the memory of her fingers pressing the small of his back and the heat of her nails tracking his scalp remained fresh for his enjoyment. Just as he found pleasure in her, she clearly felt the same for him. The remnants of her lipstick was smoothed away, but her cheeks were still flushed with the grazing of his cheek. That was the most thrilling of all.
She laid careful rules that might as well have been writ by Adrian’s own hand. It was a rare woman that separated business from pleasure, willing to cut the latter loose at the first threat of a rising storm. He would do the same; he had done the same. He was no chivalrous hero. He was predictably selfish, and any honor he had was only extended as far as it served his interests.
“Hm,” was his only murmur of a response as she peered one last time into the shadows of his eyes. Even his response was contained thoughtfulness now that their moment was bottled back up. He remained behind after she departed.
The little ball of light hovering above was Adrian’s companion in her absence. He craned his neck upward to study it, wondering how long it would persist now that its maker was gone. She had conjured it so easily. Meanwhile, alone, Adrian let his eyes close while he tried to sense the feeling that came infuriatingly rarely, but he soon found the serenity of closed eyes to be a meaningless exercise, and instead opted to stare straight into the darkness. Shadows swayed with the soft pulses of the orb above, and it was into their taunting dance that he reached out. The barest of sparks flickered in the intervening space, but as soon as it seemed he gripped the power hiding within the shadow it was gone completely. His jaw locked tight, frustrated again, and he vowed to make progress on this helplessness at first chance.
His gaze studied the orb once more. Now that Natalie was gone, its power seemed to be fading, a sad remnant hanging on for life, but the hue was enough to give him one more opportunity to study their surroundings. The building really was in terrible shape. If it was going to function as a place of safety for the daughters of Moscow’s powerful, it would need fully transformed. The leverage they could wield over untold circles was infinite. Combined with Adrian’s unique ability to influence others through their dreams, he could get quite creative with expansions in the future. He scrubbed his chin thoughtfully one last time, but unlike before, he had no audience to stop the stupid habit.
He pulled out a wallet and used the time to take some interior scans for future renderings, and on the return walk to the car, he had the information sent to his designers for initial drafts.
He slid into the back seat, wallet tucked away by then, and regarded Natalie.
“I want 50% of whatever this becomes,” he said, nodding toward the window. The offer was generous, but fair in his consideration.
He slid nearer then, thoughts shifting to the other half of their deal. If there was a driver to the car, he was undisturbed by the presence of a employee as witness to their building tension toward intimacy. The drink of his gaze fell to the pale stem of her legs, then. The hem of her dress lay short over the top of her thighs. It was there that he placed his palm, grazing with agonizing anticipation upward from her knee.
This time, his husky whisper was laid upon her ear. “I can’t promise to not distract you, but I can promise you will enjoy it,” he said just as he touched his lips to curve of her neck and closed what remaining distance existed between them.
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Cool air prickled her skin when she exited, dousing some of the heat conjured by the man left inside and depositing a shiver in its wake. Beyond, she discovered the car’s headlights were off, the engine dead, and only empty shadows blanketed the grass and trees of the surrounding land. Gravel crushed underfoot, and Natalie summoned a trail of light enough to see by. When she approached it illuminated a post-it note stuck to the driver’s side window. It was of an inane smiley face scrawled in black ink. She crumbled it and let herself back in.
Toma returned moments later. Their gazes met in the rearview mirror, but Natalie’s broke away just as quickly, disinterested with the judgement. The engine shuddered awake, and the headlamps returned, picking out the edges of the property in ghostly detail.
When Adrian slid back in beside her, Natalie watched him in turn. The neatness of her expression betrayed little, though maybe the fact her gaze followed to the window as he gestured revealed a modicum of her surprise. By his general denigration she’d assumed the question of his investment in her school did not remain on the table. It had certainly not been a requisite to her other proposal. Should he make the mistake of presuming she exchanged her body for such favours he would come to regret the blunder, but nothing suggested he would be so foolish. In regards to her virtue or her feelings perhaps, either of which she imagined he cared little, but certainly not with the management of his own finances. There were far cheaper ways to bed a woman.
As a business deal, it was a shit one. To give away that much equity on the whim of a chance meeting, and with a man she barely knew anything about. But Natalie was reckless with the keys of her kingdom. Half of nothing was nothing, and as he so eloquently put it to her, she couldn’t lose something she’d never had in the first place. Ultimately he offered something she realised she wanted. That wasn’t money, or even power. Fifty percent wasn’t a price to be extorted, it was a promise.
When his lips grazed her throat, she made a sound that might have been pleasure or consideration. “I have no objections to an equal partnership,” she told him.
The warmth of his palm against her bare skin tingled all the heat upwards, and she was caught in the thought of how smooth his jaw was against her neck. Adrian teased with agonising slowness. She shifted inwards to him in curious invitation, allowing the roam of whatever he chose if he was bold enough. Her fingers tangled in the dark hair at the nape of his neck as the pleasure shivered anticipation through her. She didn’t stop him. There was a privacy screen, but she didn’t reach to engage it. Toma should have the moment she realised what was going on, but of course she didn’t. She just drove.
Natalie didn’t stop Adrian from pausing long enough to give her driver the instruction of their destination, nor commented on the fact he took the liberty, but she did draw his mouth back to hers before he’d barely finished speaking. She cared little for explanations of chivalry, if that’s really what it even was; she certainly had no interest in disturbing the veneer enough to discover the truth. But though she wanted nothing of his life or his commitment outside of their arrangements, while he was with her she would demand every scrap of his attention, and every ounce of his focus. That wasn’t negotiable.
For now she made Adrian set the boundary between them. Natalie denied him nothing he was not first prepared to take, but she pushed him to take it before she took in turn. She could have told him she was no lady, as appearances and name might both suggest she was, but she preferred he make the discovery for himself -- to preserve the thrill of being learned so thoroughly as she imagined he would try. There was satisfaction in tugging the neat shirt loose of his belt, and in the flex and tension of the muscles underneath. The cold flash of the expensive timepiece on his wrist made her gasp when it grazed her skin in turn. His hands weren’t shy and they played true to the foundations of his promise. There was a dangerous intoxication for Natalie in that knowledge. But she did not seek satiation. She did not get lost in him. It was a ravening hunger that returned his attentions, and she did not hold back on its effects or its passions, even as she held back on its design.
She had no desire for him to lose control. It was the intensity she craved. The deliberate freedoms he allowed himself, and those he did not.
Some time later the purr of the engine finally stopped, though it was a moment or two before she consented to notice that they’d arrived. Natalie was in no great rush to peel herself away. She was already certain he would pause to see what she would do next. Her head pressed back against the seat.
“You’re going to make me wait,” she accused as though scandalised, but there was a sharp curve to the edge of her lips, and her pale gaze was anything but outraged, for bedded deep in the ice was an incendiary tease. He wasn’t getting an invitation inside. Her apartment was impersonal; a place to rest, and not a home, but it was still an intimacy she was not prepared to give. The lust remained unbroken. Natalie did not disguise the rise and fall of her chest. She did not disguise the way her gaze took him very thoroughly in, or the places it lingered on the way back up to his eyes. Temptation fired her blood hot, and she was not sure to which end; to finally demand and collect from him the satisfaction she desired, in whatever way she chose, or to kneel between his thighs until the chains of his self-control shattered. She wanted to see him undone. Though not simply that; she wanted to be given the key to that undoing.
But when she leaned in, it was not to touch him. Nor was it to engage his attention once more, in entreaty or in demand. She did not package her desire neatly away; it was there, hot and heavy and wanting, but she knew he would not reach out this time to close the distance. “Then I’ll wait,” she promised. That wicked hint of smile returned while she allowed him time to decipher exactly what she meant. She adjusted the line of her dress, and ran her fingers through the tousled gold of her hair. If he pulled her back into him she wouldn't resist. She wasn’t sure she was capable, and she almost hoped he’d try. But if it would burn brightly in the satisfaction of a moment, she knew also it wasn’t truly what she wanted from him.
He didn’t stop her, though. She clicked open the door and was gone, without goodbye.
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He watched her walk away until she disappeared inside the building beyond. The car pulled out into traffic after that, and Adrian was satisfied with his awareness of Natalie’s home, and was content to let it roll behind him. It took a few deep breaths to settle himself. To catch his breath. The body was slow to respond, but Adrian’s willpower won in the end. He hadn’t asked to follow her inside. Nor did he particularly expect an invitation. Either way, he was content. If anything, he might have been disappointed if she relinquished so easily. A task for another night.
Before they journeyed far, he swiped his address with a command from the wallet so it could populate the driver’s control panel. The motion led his gaze to settle on the mirror, but only part of the driver’s face was visible.
He smirked at himself, then. Realizing his disarray. As he was zipping his pants, he commented on the situation.
“I hope you’re paid well,” he said. She would have witnessed quite the show, he thought, closing the buttons on the shirt that Natalie had opened.
“The job has its perks,” she responded, gaze flicking briefly into mirror to meet his. Adrian smiled to himself. Some people were into that.
“I bet it does,” he responded.
He could still feel the slick of her makeup against his cheeks, but it was nothing that couldn’t be wiped away. Although he imagined the traces of lipstick on his collar was not so easily hidden. It wasn’t the first time, but that was a problem for his future self. The ride back to Moscow was decidedly more pleasant than the initial delivery to the country. The time passed quicker, but Adrain felt plucked from his affairs for too long. He opened more command modules on the Wallet to check statuses while they drove.
“How long have you worked for her?” he added without looking up. Responding to a message that had been waiting longer than he liked.
She answered almost before he was finished speaking. “You’re assuming I work for her,” she said.
Adrian murmured his interest, which by this point was quite piqued. Although he was still focused on work at the moment, he understood that Natalie should be able to pay those bills. So either the driver was randomly assigned by a larger company, or someone planted her. Or perhaps to watch him?
“Then who do you work for?”
She tsked. “Dear one, I could not possibly say. Secrets are quite safe with me,” her voice trailed, and he caught her glimpse in the mirror. He held it for as long as she was able. The directness led him to believe there were certain secrets that he would take a personal interest in withholding. His hand flexed subconsciously, imagining the sad sparks his fingers had attempted to create.
He nodded in understanding. All these years and not a soul was aware. Then one evening with Natalie and he’d lowered his defenses to let that particular secret slip free. It was a good lesson for the future. Natalie couldn’t distract him so much again.
“Sounds like quite the burden,” he said off-handedly. Wondering what it would take to make sure that secret did not get out.
She laughed at that. “Has the blood quite returned to your head? I would have assumed you'd value discretion?”
She had a point about being clear-headed. Another lesson, but this time, it was Adrian who was fast to respond. “I value information,” he said. She would hear the smirk in his voice. Then his shifted in his seat and peered around the edge toward the front.
“Like what your name is?” he said, testing the waters with a bit of charm that won over so many before her.
She didn’t seem interested in the bait, but she found something worthwhile to share something in return.
“Then you know it rarely comes for free, but you may have this one as a gift, Adrian Kane. My name is Toma,” she said.
Adrian nodded. So she knew all about him, then. That was fine. He didn’t hide, and it was a matter of time before the reciprocal was true. Someone cloaked in secrets like her was unlikely to share their birth name, but he didn’t care. Toma was enough to give him what he needed to find out the rest.
The car rolled into the valet’s lane at the hotel he called home. He touched the handle, but before opening, he looked back at her. His appearance was rearranged by then, though his hair not quite as perfect as before the ride.
“Pleasure to meet you, Toma. I imagine I'll see more of you?"
“Don't imagine too hard,” she responded, laughter bubbling up. Adrian chuckled to himself as he emerged upon the sidewalk. The valet closed the door behind him, but Adrian was already walking inside before it departed.
While he walked toward the elevator, targeting his office and a clean shirt in the closet inside, his manager joined him at the left and his personal assistant flanked his right.
The hotel had some immediate needs. Adrian made sure they were handled by the time they climbed into the elevator.
“I couldn’t reach you, so your appointment this evening was rescheduled.”
Adrian nodded. He could meet the consultant another night.
His priority instead was on the Rod of Dominion. “That’s fine. I want to meet Jay Carpenter immediately. Find him.”
The assistant cringed.
“Actually…”
Adrian frowned, sharply turning toward him. “What?”
“He’s gone out,” he said. Tapping away at a screen, which was turned to reveal the lobby footage.
Adrian’s disapproval flared when he realized with who, but it was quickly reigned in. The Dominion would be back soon enough, but Adrian’s patience was running thin.
[[Written with permission.]]
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