[JMM] 27.8.3 - Room Service
Feb. 11th, 2010 03:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
capturedworldsThe little cream colored dress she'd bought just for the night lay crumpled on the floor where it had fallen, slipping off as easily as one might have expected by looking at it, though far more easily than she'd intended to allow it to. His shirt was draped over her boots where she'd tossed it, as eager to bare his skin as he'd been hers, and the thought made her cheeks heat a little now with something more than the lingering afterglow that pulsed through her. She talked a good talk, sure, trying to keep up with her older brothers in appearing a woman of the world, but a lot of it was just that. Talk. Her eyes scanned the hotel room with a nervous edge to them, never having seen one quite this way, with a champagne fog still mixing with a sensual haze. Wriggling away from the strong arm that was wrapped around her waist, she sat up, careful to clutch the tangled sheets around her in some memory of modesty she'd discarded along with the dress.
"You need something, love?" Fingers traced down her spine as lazily as the voice of the man behind her wrapped itself around her, and she glanced back at him, swallowing before tossing him a careless smile.
"I was just going to grab a cigarette out of my purse," she told him.
Adam stretched and gave her the sort of smile she thought lions might give gazelles before they attacked, but he just got up and moved across the room to where her purse lay by the door, wearing his nudity with the same sort of confidence he'd worn the Armani suit she'd almost ripped the buttons off of earlier. He brought the bag back, handing it to her instead of rifling through it, and she pulled out the antique cigarette case she'd bought in a fit of whimsy one day.
"I didn't figure you for a smoker," he commented, even as he snagged his own lighter out of his pants pocket before stretching back out on the bed. "Aren't vegans supposed to be health freaks?"
Melissa let him light the cigarette, letting the scent of cloves fill the air. She shrugged, casting Adam a slightly embarrassed look. "We all have our vices."
"Aren't those illegal?" Adam asked, looking amused, even as he took the one she offered.
"So are Cuban cigars" she countered, one eyebrow arching. "Do you care?"
"Not really," he answered, leaning back and tugging her with him.
Melissa curled up against his side, trying not to think about how bizarre this whole situation was. She'd accepted his dinner invitation as much because Nathan forbade it as any genuine interest in the man, though he had amused her with his ridiculously overblown flirtation. Arthur was probably rolling in his grave, and she had to admit that had its appeal as well. The fact that the man himself was something of a mystery--one of them, but immortal, looking never more than his late twenties while carrying all those life experiences...well. What girl wouldn't be intrigued.
But intriguing or not, she'd meant to just let it end at dinner.
Dinner had flowed so well, however, she'd been unwilling to end it. Adam was a good conversationalist, able to spin tales of his life with a diffident sort of charm she found appealing, and never once did he mention business matters or how often their families found themselves on opposite sides in their endeavors. He didn't talk about their families at all, instead inquiring about her time in Europe, her art, her interest in theater, and sharing his own passions as well. They compared stories about London and Paris, laughed over the fact they both liked the same music and artists. He had a Kandinsky he offered to show her, and she shyly said she'd be willing to let him look at her portfolio.
Dinner led to dancing, dancing to bodies pressed close, the heat of his hands through the flimsy material of the dress as scorching as if he'd been sliding them over her bare skin. She let him kiss her, fitting herself against him, and when the taxi came, and he murmured something about a hotel rather than sending her home in it, she hadn't protested. Hell, she'd settled herself on his lap in the backseat, let him press her against the elevator walls once they'd made it to the hotel, had her fingers seeking skin before they were even through the door of the room, and now here they were, and she wasn't sure exactly when she'd decided this would be okay.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, his accent coloring his words as his fingers brushed over the frown that had gathered between her brows. "No second thoughts, I hope?"
"No," she half-lied, though it was hard to have regrets when his lips found her ear to nuzzle lightly, and the burn in her lungs married with the warmth elsewhere. "Not really, just..."
"You don't do things like this that often," he murmured, amusement in his tone.
Melissa shot him a look, mostly reproachful, though she couldn't say for what--assuming she wasn't a slut?
He chuckled. "Don't worry, darling. Your secret is safe with me. In point of fact, I'm honored you made an exception."
Melissa huffed a bit and settled down against him again, taking a long drag on her cigarette. "I don't know why I did," she finally confessed.
"I believe my expected line here is 'because I'm irresistible,' but I suspect it's more to do with Nathan than me," he said quietly.
"No," she protested, sitting back up and shaking her head.
"Really?" Adam arched one eyebrow, looking politely disbelieving.
"I mean, I said I'd go out with you because of...well, at least partly because of him, sure, but I don't usually take...he's pissed enough about that. This would probably be assumed whether I'd done it or not."
"So why not go for it?" Adam sounded like he was guessing now, confusion flickering in his eyes.
"Not my style, not really," she murmured, shifting to settle her arm on her knees, hand supporting her head as she looked at him lying there looking like some debauched choirboy.
"Then what?" he asked, reaching out a hand to slide through her hair, winding a curl around his fingers.
Melissa was quiet for a long time. "You saw me," she finally said.
"No more than you did me," he said more seriously.
"That's my gift," she said with a shrug. "It's different."
"You were willing to look," Adam argued.
"I can't help but look," she protested. "And it's not the point..."
"It is," he insisted. "When someone looks so deep into you, the least I could do was look back."
Melissa felt herself smiling a little. "This can't go on, you know. Nathan would kill us both."
"I'm hard to kill," Adam murmured, tugging her back down to him so he could trace her lips with a fingertip. "And I can protect you, if you'll let me."
Melissa closed her eyes, pressing a kiss to his fingertip. It was a pretty fantasy and for a moment she let herself indulge in it. In the end, he wasn't offering her a way out, though, not when he was in this deeper than she was. Mobster's girlfriend from mobster's daughter wasn't really that much of a switch, and while he might run his organization in a more civilized fashion than Nathan, she had no illusions that it would be all that different. Less pain, perhaps, but he'd want to use her still, to have her gift under his thumb, to score a coup against Nathan, and Nathan...he'd go to war over the slight even if he didn't give a damn about her as a person. Worse still, he'd pull Peter into it, and there wasn't much she could do to protect him from Adam's stronghold across town.
"I can't," she murmured against his skin. "It wouldn't end well."
Adam's thumb traced her lower lip, even as his fingers urged her chin and gaze up to meet his. He meant it, she could tell, sincerity burning somewhere inside of him, but there was a resignation, as well, and he leaned in to kiss her with something like regret.
"Then let me call down for some more champagne, and let's make the most of tonight," he murmured against her lips.
With a slight ache she couldn't identify, Melissa nodded, pulling back and finishing her cigarette while he reached for the phone, then let herself get lost after in pretending what couldn't be was, if only for a little while.
"You need something, love?" Fingers traced down her spine as lazily as the voice of the man behind her wrapped itself around her, and she glanced back at him, swallowing before tossing him a careless smile.
"I was just going to grab a cigarette out of my purse," she told him.
Adam stretched and gave her the sort of smile she thought lions might give gazelles before they attacked, but he just got up and moved across the room to where her purse lay by the door, wearing his nudity with the same sort of confidence he'd worn the Armani suit she'd almost ripped the buttons off of earlier. He brought the bag back, handing it to her instead of rifling through it, and she pulled out the antique cigarette case she'd bought in a fit of whimsy one day.
"I didn't figure you for a smoker," he commented, even as he snagged his own lighter out of his pants pocket before stretching back out on the bed. "Aren't vegans supposed to be health freaks?"
Melissa let him light the cigarette, letting the scent of cloves fill the air. She shrugged, casting Adam a slightly embarrassed look. "We all have our vices."
"Aren't those illegal?" Adam asked, looking amused, even as he took the one she offered.
"So are Cuban cigars" she countered, one eyebrow arching. "Do you care?"
"Not really," he answered, leaning back and tugging her with him.
Melissa curled up against his side, trying not to think about how bizarre this whole situation was. She'd accepted his dinner invitation as much because Nathan forbade it as any genuine interest in the man, though he had amused her with his ridiculously overblown flirtation. Arthur was probably rolling in his grave, and she had to admit that had its appeal as well. The fact that the man himself was something of a mystery--one of them, but immortal, looking never more than his late twenties while carrying all those life experiences...well. What girl wouldn't be intrigued.
But intriguing or not, she'd meant to just let it end at dinner.
Dinner had flowed so well, however, she'd been unwilling to end it. Adam was a good conversationalist, able to spin tales of his life with a diffident sort of charm she found appealing, and never once did he mention business matters or how often their families found themselves on opposite sides in their endeavors. He didn't talk about their families at all, instead inquiring about her time in Europe, her art, her interest in theater, and sharing his own passions as well. They compared stories about London and Paris, laughed over the fact they both liked the same music and artists. He had a Kandinsky he offered to show her, and she shyly said she'd be willing to let him look at her portfolio.
Dinner led to dancing, dancing to bodies pressed close, the heat of his hands through the flimsy material of the dress as scorching as if he'd been sliding them over her bare skin. She let him kiss her, fitting herself against him, and when the taxi came, and he murmured something about a hotel rather than sending her home in it, she hadn't protested. Hell, she'd settled herself on his lap in the backseat, let him press her against the elevator walls once they'd made it to the hotel, had her fingers seeking skin before they were even through the door of the room, and now here they were, and she wasn't sure exactly when she'd decided this would be okay.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, his accent coloring his words as his fingers brushed over the frown that had gathered between her brows. "No second thoughts, I hope?"
"No," she half-lied, though it was hard to have regrets when his lips found her ear to nuzzle lightly, and the burn in her lungs married with the warmth elsewhere. "Not really, just..."
"You don't do things like this that often," he murmured, amusement in his tone.
Melissa shot him a look, mostly reproachful, though she couldn't say for what--assuming she wasn't a slut?
He chuckled. "Don't worry, darling. Your secret is safe with me. In point of fact, I'm honored you made an exception."
Melissa huffed a bit and settled down against him again, taking a long drag on her cigarette. "I don't know why I did," she finally confessed.
"I believe my expected line here is 'because I'm irresistible,' but I suspect it's more to do with Nathan than me," he said quietly.
"No," she protested, sitting back up and shaking her head.
"Really?" Adam arched one eyebrow, looking politely disbelieving.
"I mean, I said I'd go out with you because of...well, at least partly because of him, sure, but I don't usually take...he's pissed enough about that. This would probably be assumed whether I'd done it or not."
"So why not go for it?" Adam sounded like he was guessing now, confusion flickering in his eyes.
"Not my style, not really," she murmured, shifting to settle her arm on her knees, hand supporting her head as she looked at him lying there looking like some debauched choirboy.
"Then what?" he asked, reaching out a hand to slide through her hair, winding a curl around his fingers.
Melissa was quiet for a long time. "You saw me," she finally said.
"No more than you did me," he said more seriously.
"That's my gift," she said with a shrug. "It's different."
"You were willing to look," Adam argued.
"I can't help but look," she protested. "And it's not the point..."
"It is," he insisted. "When someone looks so deep into you, the least I could do was look back."
Melissa felt herself smiling a little. "This can't go on, you know. Nathan would kill us both."
"I'm hard to kill," Adam murmured, tugging her back down to him so he could trace her lips with a fingertip. "And I can protect you, if you'll let me."
Melissa closed her eyes, pressing a kiss to his fingertip. It was a pretty fantasy and for a moment she let herself indulge in it. In the end, he wasn't offering her a way out, though, not when he was in this deeper than she was. Mobster's girlfriend from mobster's daughter wasn't really that much of a switch, and while he might run his organization in a more civilized fashion than Nathan, she had no illusions that it would be all that different. Less pain, perhaps, but he'd want to use her still, to have her gift under his thumb, to score a coup against Nathan, and Nathan...he'd go to war over the slight even if he didn't give a damn about her as a person. Worse still, he'd pull Peter into it, and there wasn't much she could do to protect him from Adam's stronghold across town.
"I can't," she murmured against his skin. "It wouldn't end well."
Adam's thumb traced her lower lip, even as his fingers urged her chin and gaze up to meet his. He meant it, she could tell, sincerity burning somewhere inside of him, but there was a resignation, as well, and he leaned in to kiss her with something like regret.
"Then let me call down for some more champagne, and let's make the most of tonight," he murmured against her lips.
With a slight ache she couldn't identify, Melissa nodded, pulling back and finishing her cigarette while he reached for the phone, then let herself get lost after in pretending what couldn't be was, if only for a little while.
