Hot and Burning

[Nesrin Aziz]

He made her smile, and obviously she didn’t answer that question, because aside from anything she said incidentally revealing she had some familiarity with morning-after etiquette, it just wasn't that usual a response. The heady sparks of a one-night stand rarely translated to anything significant next-day, and most guys (or girls) only went through the motions, else there was a more clandestine reason for a swift exit, like a wedding ring. Unless Nesrin wanted something from them, she never minded those brief glimpses into another’s life, or the eventual parting. But then Eddie – in his posh suit, drinking alone at a prestige nightclub bar – wasn’t the usual sort she’d go for. Which was to say, he’d actually looked like a nice guy.

“Breakfast in Egypt is a feast. Fuul and aish beladi,” she said, laughing a little at his very Western list of offerings. He might know what those were, depending on where he’d toured, but doubtful he had the sorts of ingredients necessary to hand. Not that she minded in the slightest; she was curious about him more than the contents of his pantry. “Perhaps I’ll treat you some time. But I want to know what you like, Eddie. Make us your favourite?”

She couldn’t tell from his answer how long he was planning to stay in Moscow, and she didn’t press. Everything in Nesrin’s life was temporary, and if he was only in the city exploring options, perhaps that was ultimately a good thing.

His returned teasing coaxed a flirtatious look, amused. She came closer, sliding her coffee next to the sink behind him as she leaned into him gently. “While you’re thinking about it, I have another favour to ask.” She didn’t divest him of his mug, but she did take his free hand and slide it over the top of her thigh, trailing the bare curves to cup her hip hidden under the shirt. She watched his expression as she did it, wanting to see her effect on him, a sly smile on her lips. “I might also need to borrow some pants,” she confided in a whisper.

She kissed him then, prey to the trap of her own temptation. It was deeper than the one he’d given her before he’d passed her the coffee, yet wasn’t the heated seduction of last night – it was something softer, more like a question she asked herself. When she pulled away, the smile was genuine but unapologetic, as she let him remember about that breakfast.

[Edwin]

Eddie was drawn in by her. It was the only way to explain it. Mostly he had a feeling that whatever this was that was happening was a one time deal - a thought that came to him simply because he had never experienced a one night stand before, but even so, there seemed to be something here. He intrigued her or she intrigued him - or perhaps a bit of both.

Her mention of Egypt revealed more of his guest. He had assumed she was Middle Eastern based off of looks, but that could mean she came from any one of a dozen places. Now that his brain wasn’t focused primarily on protecting her or getting to know every inch of her body, he was able to find those slight details that were easy to miss, unless you were looking for them.

Once again, they were in close proximity. Eddie did not resist when she took his hand and guided it up her thigh and towards her hip, confirming what he knew; she was literally wearing only his shirt. His look was not one of surprise, but of arousal, tempered slightly with a chuckle at her request for pants. His laugh ended as she kissed him, not with the passionate need they had shared kisses the night before, but more gentle.

Eddie smiled as the kiss ended. ”I think you’re a bad influence on me,” he said to her in jest. ”Of course, you can borrow whatever you like, just know I’m going to enjoy the show as you head back to the room to get it.” he gave her a grin. His mind wasn’t currently on breakfast. Last night had been meant for a distraction. The distraction continued.

[Nesrin Aziz]

His kiss gave her butterflies, and it was the sweetest feeling. That was the source of her smile when she pulled away, the answer to her silent question. Eddie’s hand was warm against her skin, not roaming despite the liberties he could have taken – and by the enticed way he looked down at her, it wasn’t simply that he wasn’t thinking about it. A mischievous look flashed for his jest, a truth she didn’t care to hide. Eddie didn’t even know her real name, but despite it there was little else of her veiled away, not least how much of a flirtatious tease she was. She slipped her fingers along his waistband. “And if the pants I want to borrow are these ones?”

She wanted to draw him into her again then, to feel a bit more of that tentative captivation, even if it was only kissing innocently by his kitchen sink. It made her wary in equal measure to the way it also made her feel a little breathless. In Nesrin’s experience good things never lasted; they ended up hurting eventually, or they had a catch – so she didn't really trust them. And Eddie felt suspiciously like a good thing. Yet at the same time he sounded uncommitted to Moscow, and he'd talked about Manifesto being a distraction when she’d pulled him onto the dancefloor. That alone tempted at her – something with a natural expiration had far less risk. And she always liked the thrill of new things.

She grinned as she withdrew, looking him up and down with the same appreciation as she knew he’d watch her in return. A few backward steps teased, twisting the end of a loose curl, before she turned, and disappeared back into his bedroom to find those pants.