Strange Tides (unfinished)

[IX]: Just Another Tuesday

There's something about this boy that drives her a little crazy. It's in the way his eyes twinkle when he talks to her, and the little smile he gets when she giggles. It's in his smirk when she gasps and the way his fingers dance against her skin, teasing her and brushing feather-light over the inside of her thighs. She trembles at his touch and laughs and every single joke he whispers to her, not because they're funny but because she likes the way his breath feels on her ear. She's going to explode if she spends any more time with this boy.

Or maybe that's the alcohol talking.

"You see the one preening over there?" he says over the music of the club. Esme follows his eyes to a nervous-looking eagle harpy whose friends have left the table. "He looks like he got turned down by a pigeon."

A loud laugh escapes her before she can control it. She reins it in, but a few giggles take its place. The boy—Dillon?—leans in to press a kiss to her neck. He slides his hand up her leg at the same time and she gasps, not sure which sensation she likes better. She should tell him to just hurry up at invite her to his home already. She clenches her thighs and a chuckle fans her ear with his hot breath.

"You're impatient, aren't you?" he asks, rubbing circles on her thigh with his thumb. Oh, that's nice, too. How is she supposed to decide when it's all so good? "You'd think princesses would be good at waiting."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't mean to tell me you're actually fully invested in all those noble meetings, do you?"

Ah. Well, he's got her there. She smiles at him. "Momma taught me not to lie."

Dillon grins against her skin and slowly trails up her neck and her jaw with soft kisses. Esme gasps again and grabs his hand, holding it tight. He chuckles at her reaction and sends shivers up and down her spine. He dares to kiss her mouth, and slips his other hand around her waist when she kisses him back. Their lips dance in passionate and hollow performance, one that's been practiced way too often to be natural but still enjoyable.

"Are you going to take me out of here, or are you trying to take me right here?" Esme manages to breathe out when he pulls away.

"Let me see," he mumbles against her lips. "Taking you here does sound appealing."

"Too bad." She snakes an arm around his shoulders. "That's a privilege you need to earn."

"Are you telling me you want to go somewhere more private?"

Esme licks his lips. When has she ever done that? This must be the alcohol. "Show me where you live, hotshot."

"Your wish is my command, your highness," he says. Dillon slips an arm under her legs and arms and stands up, taking her with him. Esme squeals and wraps her arms around his neck.

People are watching as they leave the club.

People are always watching when guys make a scene like this.

This one better be worth it.

I wonder how Vivek is doing...

☼

He lives on the first level, in an apartment on the tenth floor. The moment the door closes behind them, he has Esme pushed up against the wall and his mouth on hers. Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe it's just the sexual tension she's been feeling but she can't get her hands off him. They roam from his hair to his back and the waistband of his pants. He stops her from getting too low too soon and kisses her neck and her collarbones and unbuttons her dress and slips it off her shoulders and carries her to the bed and continues until he gets all the little gasps and moans and arches of the back that he wants from her and he keeps going and he doesn't stop until they're both screaming and oh gods she did not make a mistake with this one...