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High Profile (ShadowOfDesire and Catalyst)

Sofia followed his direction in something of a daze, doing as he said without uttering a single word. She watched him, however, as he crafted their story together even tighter, giving the police more evidence to convict. Like Brian, she was wondering what else he'd touched and if he'd need to wipe down the entire apartment, though she couldn't fathom why they'd need to fingerprint her entire apartment. It still made her nervous, however. Would they want to go upstairs? And where would Brian be hiding?

She manipulated her phone via muscle memory, for her thoughts wouldn't quite work as desired just then. Her hand was still trembling when she pressed the numbers in sequence and put the call on speaker phone. The woman that immediately answered had that neutral tone that must have been taught to all emergency operators. Trying to hold back her tears at the woman's questions, she took a breath and sought Brian's gaze as she answered.

"I need help," she told the woman, the tremor in her voice completely real. It led to a barrage of questions, which Sofia answered as best she could, and reassurances that help was on the way. Sofia elected not to stay on the phone while the police came, insisting that she was safe for now and would be fine until they arrived. When she hung up, she slid the phone into her pocket.

"They're on the way," she said unnecessarily, but it was the best she could manage in that moment. "I should meet them at the door."
 
He knew what the call would entail all too well. He could not get rid of every shred of evidence of his existence, and trying would only take up far too much time. Instead, he'd had to settle for doing what he could. Fucking asshole... he thought disgustedly to himself as he glanced down at the limp body on the floor between them, seemingly as upset about the inconvenience to him as he was to the attack he'd just thwarted.

He listened intently to the entirety of her call, muscles tight, not budging so much as a fraction, one hand gripping at his chin with a finger over his own lips. The moment the operator answered, his time was limited. By the time she hung up, he had only minutes to make himself scarce. He could not wipe the fingerprints from every surface that may have been contaminated with his own. Doing so would only risk losing Brandon's own, and leaving investigators with more reason to suspect something further. All he could was a quick, cursory sweep of the surfaces he knew that he himself had touched after Brandon would have. And even that, he knew, would be cutting it close.

"Whatever you do, you do not let them go upstairs. Do you understand?" he approached her, staring into her eyes with deadly seriousness, and gravity words could not describe. "There is no reason for them to do so. He came in while you were downstairs. He forced you into the bedroom. Everything stayed down here."

His gaze searched hers fervently, seeking to ensure she'd taken his warning to heart. "No matter what they say, no matter what they ask you, no one else is here, no one else was here today, and they do not need to search upstairs." She might not have been a household name, but her father was surely well known enough that the police would not go against his daughter's wishes knowingly. At least, that's what he was forced to bank on.
 
She nodded mutely, dark eyes wide and somewhat unfocused. Swallowing, Sofia lifted her hand and the weight of the handcuff drew her attention. She frowned at it before letting it drop by her side again. The shrill sound of a siren pierced the night, growing closer with every passing heartbeat. Her throat tightened, a lump forming in her chest. Her heart started to pound once more with fear, though of a different sort. The tension in the room was thick and weighed heavily upon her. She moved to turn from the intensity of his gaze before a thought struck her. Blinking, she reached for his arm.

"Do you have the key to these with you?" Her wrist lifted, the metal cuff dangling again. "Plant it on him before you go. It'll be more convincing if they find it on him."

There was nothing else to be done or said. She'd have to fall back on her own social skills to get the police in and out as quickly as she could. She tossed a glance about the bedroom one last time, pausing only to snatch her dildo out of her luggage and stash it in one of her closet drawers. There was nothing else out in the open that could be embarrassing or damning, so she carefully stepped around her unconscious ex and moved into the front room to open the door of the police.

She didn't have long to wait. Their sirens cut off once they reached the building, though flashing blue and red lights bounced off the ceiling of her balcony. A minute or two later, the elevator dinged as it stopped at her floor. A pair of officers, one male and one female, rushed out along with a befuddled looking doorman. As soon as he caught sight of her and the state she was in, the man took an involuntary step backward and then another, inching back toward the elevator with the intention to run. Anger sparked in her eyes as she flung the door open wider, stepping out into the hall.

"Don't let him leave!" she shouted, an accusing finger pointing past the police. "He's part of it!"

The doorman turned pale and darted for the elevator, but the male officer caught him and slammed him against the wall before he could close the doors on them. A pair of cuffs snapped about the man's wrist an the officer marched him toward Sofia's apartment. The female officer gave her a pitying look and gestured for her to retreat back into her home so she could give them the entire story.
 
Shit. Good point.

Without a word, he corrected the small misstep that she'd brought to his attention, retrieving the keys to the cuffs, wiping them down with a cloth, and carefully tucking them into the back pocket of Brandon's pants, all the while fixating like the ears of a bloodhound upon the ever-approaching sirens. Sirens that were without a doubt coming for them.

By the time the sirens had ceased, Brian was nowhere to be found. He'd retreated upstairs, tactfully locking each of the bedroom doors, along with his own. A small gesture that would buy him at most enough time to draw his weapon and ready himself to fire upon the police, should they enter. But once more, it was the best he could do, given their current predicament. He braced himself, moving quietly, but quickly to prepare his weapon, to stow as much as he could away, and...

FUCK!

The cameras...

There were cameras all over this place. And her security team knew that all too well. The second that information came to light, the first thing they'd be searching for would be the recordings, to catch him in the act. The recordings that for the last several days, were being stored on his computer. The very same recordings with hours upon hours of incriminating footage of him to show...including the attack itself...

The footage was in his possession...he could delete it all, and disconnect the feeds from his computer...make it look as though they'd simply been disabled entirely... He could not, however, do anything to hide the fact that the system had been tampered with. The questions as to why, how, and by whom, would all still be there. As for the camera's themselves, and the justification for their being disabled...it was already too late. There was nothing he could do to communicate the problem to Sofia. The only thing he could do was hope that she too realized it before them, and could come up with something to convince them not to pry.

At that moment, for the first time in as long as he could remember, the control was not in his hands.
 
The officer sat the doorman down roughly on Sofia's couch before following her the few steps to the bedroom. They found Brandon where she'd left him, still unconscious and with his cock hanging out of his pants when they rolled him over to check his vitals and pat him down for weapons. She winced at the sight and turned away, her distress unfeigned. The female officer touched her gently on the shoulder, speaking in soft, soothing tones to comfort her.

"Why don't you just start from the beginning," she urged gently.

And Sofia did. She told them everything, about finding him cheating and leaving him in France, and the dozens of messages and texts he'd sent her. She told them about her request for privacy and the orders she issued to the front desk specifically about Brandon and not allowing him entry. She told them Brian's version of the incident, of Brandon's manhandling of her into the bedroom, failed attempt to lock her up, and attempted rape. Their struggle, and of the vase she'd managed to crack over his head. While she spoke, the female wrote down everything she said while the male took pictures of the scene, cuffed Brandon, and then stuffed his flaccid cock back into his pants.

It was the male officer that noticed the cameras. "We're going to need footage from those," he said, pointing to the ceiling.

Sofia glanced up and paled, realizing that the moment they started sifting through her security footage, Brian would be exposed. Her brows drew down into a scowl. "I don't have them active while I'm home," she snapped. "If I did, I'd gladly give you all the footage you wanted. I had those installed for when I'm off on vacation and don't intend to be back for a while. I turned them off when I got back from France."

"You sure they're off?" he asked skeptically. "I could take a look for you if you wanted, ma'am."

Sofia glared at him. "You think I'm too stupid to know how to work my own security system? I turned it off myself, so there's no point. Don't you have enough evidence here?!" She waved a hand, the cuff swinging wildly on her arm. "Can someone please get this off me?" Her tone had risen to near hysteria. Definitely not an act.

The female officer threw her partner a dirty look at causing Sofia further distress, but he merely shrugged and just shook his head. He began emptying Brandon's pockets, removing his phone, wallet, car keys, and one smaller key that went to the handcuffs. He handed it over and the female officer gently took Sofia's wrist and unlocked the cuff, holding it in her gloved fingers to bag it and the key, too.

"How does the doorman play into this?"

"Brandon was boasting that he had an arrangement with the doorman and the guy let him in. Yes, I want that in the report! He should be charged as an accessory at the very least and lose his job if he isn't going to end up jail."

The doorman, who'd been listening, decided it was high time he got the hell out before they hauled him off, though he didn't go through the front door. Instead, he pounded up the stairs to the upper floor, running for the emergency exit and fire escape.

"Hey! Get back here!" the male officer shouted. He pounded up the stairs after him with his partner a step behind, both giving chase.

Panic flooding her, Sofia dashed up after them, hoping that Brian had hidden himself well enough to go unnoticed.
 
Between the thick walls and solid floor that separated him, he may as well have been in a soundproof box, able to discern none of what was going on downstairs, and hearing only the faintest of rumblings. Normal speaking voices were far from intelligible, and any attempt he may have made to eavesdrop was to no avail. He did not dare to set foot outside of the bedroom, for concern of being spotted, nor did he even dare to take steps upon the floor, lest he be heard. And so instead, there he stayed. Nested behind the bed on the side furthest from the door, rifle in hand. Soon, he would be thankful that he'd made that decision.

The aggressive male voice was suddenly as clear as day, accompanying the storm of footsteps that grew closer and closer to him by the second. He froze in place, knowing unmistakably that they had made their way upstairs. Those footsteps stampeded toward his door, one set after the other, after the other. Whose? Brandon's? Had he woken up and tried to make a break for it? Hers? Was she taking them right to him? His hands gripped at his weapon, bracing it against himself, finger on the trigger, with a full clip loaded. He knew only one thing for certain. That he was not going to go down on this night. No matter what that meant.

Those footsteps raged on right past his door. The doorman frantically sprinted, slow though he might have been, toward the glass sliding door that led out onto the terrace, where the fire escape could be accessed. He fumbled with opening it, struggling to do so while inhibited by the cuffs that bound his wrists in front of him, for the briefest, yet costliest of moments. He'd managed to throw the door open but only got so far as a few steps out onto the stone before being tackled to the ground by the much quicker and more agile man behind him. With his female counterpart in tow, the pair were able to subdue him quickly, his last hope of getting away effectively crushed, and his body injured in the fall.

Brian's tension did not ease. If anything, he grew only tighter, the commotion of completely unknown origin leaving him to assume the worst. The police were dangerously close to him, now, and while a locked door stood between them, it would take little more than a moment of Sofia's cooperation to remove that barrier, and to all but ensure bloodshed.

"Owww! Fuck! You're hurting me! Please, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he heard an unfamiliar voice whine aloud; hysterical, practically pleading as though for his life. He knew nothing of Brandon's voice, outside of the few grunts that had escaped him as he struggled to free himself from his grasp. Still, he could not imagine that it was him he was hearing. His brow furrowed in confusion, as he struggled to discern what was going on on the other side of that wall.

"I didn't know! I didn't know! I wouldn't have let him up here if I knew...!"
 
Sofia's bare feet slapped against the marble as she quickly followed, heart thudding loudly against her chest. As they tackled the man, she threw a glance about the upper floor, but it was quiet and dark. Nevertheless, she planted herself in front of Brian's door, hovering while the police got the doorman under control. They dragged him to his feet, one on either side, and headed back for the stairs. Sofia stood, mouth slightly dry, but they passed by with only the barest look around the dark interior. The tension in her stomach eased slightly as she followed them back down.

"You didn't know, but you still helped someone commit a crime. However, if you tell us everything that happened, and what he offered you to get him access, we'll put in a good word for you."

Sofia's anger rose as they reached the lower level. The male officer took the doorman into the hallway while the female sat with Sofia. "I've got EMT on the way, okay? We need to get you checked out."

"I'm fine. Just banged up a bit," she insisted.

The paramedics arrived shortly after. One disappeared into her bedroom to check on Brandon. The other sat with Sofia on the couch, checking her vitals and bruises, though she was distracted the entire time, afraid someone was going to venture upstairs when she wasn't looking. The officer took pictures of Sofia, as well, cataloging the marks on her face and wrist where the cuff had bit into her skin. She removed it with the key she'd pulled out of Brandon's pocket and then bagged it for evidence. As predicted, they wanted her to accompany them to the hospital, but she declined.

The paramedics took Brandon out on a stretcher. He was still conscious and would probably remain so for a while longer. The crack on his skull had caused a huge lump beneath his hair. He deserves worse, she thought bitterly.

Two other officers had arrived in the meantime as backup and to take pictures of her room. Sofia rose with her phone and planted herself on the stairs to prevent anyone from straying. While she waited for them to finish up, she dialed up Mory and told him what had happened. He promised to contact Brandon's lawyer for her without her needing to ask, knowing that silence would be important for them both. After what seemed an eternity, the police finished up and left Sofia with a booklet that included her case number and information on her rights as a victim. They had her statement, photographs, and the cuffs as evidence. With the doorman's testimony and record of her request to building security a few days prior, they had all the information they needed on Brandon.

She didn't start crying until they'd vacated her apartment and she had the door securely closed and bolted behind them. She watched through the peephole until they boarded the elevators and then leaned her back against the door shakily. That sickening tension in her stomach eased to a small degree, leaving her slightly dizzy with relief. After a moment, she pushed off the door and headed upstairs, scratching softly on Brian's door.

"Everyone is gone," she said quietly.
 
The not knowing was the worst part of it all. Though the commotion was much clearer now than before, he still could only hear so much through the solid walls and the door that stood between him and the police outside of his self-made den. What he could pick up told him that the ruckus that had drawn them all upstairs had not been related to him at all, but to the unfamiliar voice that pleaded so desperately for his freedom. But as he heard and felt the footsteps begin to fade into quiet, growing further and further away from him, he finally allowed himself to exhale.

Yet even then, he did not move. For another hour at the least, according to his watch, he held fast in his position, taking not one step, making not one move that could possibly give anyone below a reason to investigate further. All the while, he could make out little more than the faint mumbles of different voices, the radio static of the officers, and the opening and closing of doors as people moved in and out. Slowly but surely, there seemed to be less of a heavy presence within the apartment, but with no way of truly knowing, he dared not take that chance. Not until he heard the soft scraping of her nails at the door, and her low, somber voice speaking out to him.

He still had his weapon in one hand, pointing downward toward the floor when he opened up the door for her. She'd likely gotten the idea already that he was well-armed, but this was a far cry from the small, easily concealed handgun she'd seen with him before. His laser-focused, steely gray gaze met her with scrutiny, examining her from head to toe, and peering back into her own eyes knowingly. After a moment, he backed away, allowing her the decision of whether to enter the room, or stay where she was as he moved to put away his arms. He did not say a word to her.

Some modicum of trust in her had been forced by the nature of their predicament. He'd been forced to leave her downstairs in a room full of police and paramedics, with her cell-phone in her hand. No matter how cautious, how meticulous he was, his hands had been tied during that time. Ultimately, he had no way of stopping her from alerting someone to his presence or calling out to someone for help at some point in the last two hours she'd been away from him. In truth, she could have left the apartment with them altogether.

She had done none of those things; or at least, not yet. Not to his knowledge. Surely, if she'd mentioned his presence to the police, they'd have already been on him. Instead, they'd only taken Brandon. Him, and whatever third party had tried to escape. She'd not gone with them for questioning, nor had she seemingly told them anything that immediately sounded their alarms. While he could easily analyze a thousand possible scenarios, both feasible and farfetched, and try to convince himself that she'd somehow reached out for help in some fashion, none of it would do him any good now. The only thing he could do was be prepared for whatever came next.

"Anything I should know about?" he asked of her finally.
 
Sofia didn't know why she didn't rat him out. Perhaps because she knew that it would turn into a blood bath? Perhaps because she knew that if they didn't kill him, she'd undoubtedly be dead. Keeping his trust meant that she might have a chance. Or... it might have been that she simply didn't want to see him hurt or hauled away. If not for him, Brandon would have surely...

Uncharacteristically quiet, Sofia followed him into the room while he put away his rifle. She sat down on the bed, following him with her eyes, watching him always. He was still dangerous, even more so now that she'd seen what he could do, but she didn't see that danger reflected at her. Not just now. Not yet.

"They bought the story and the doorman is singing like a bird. Brandon paid him to get inside. They want footage from the apartment, but I told them that I don't have the cameras active when I'm home, so there's nothing to pull. They didn't like it, but they can't do anything about it. I also called Mory about the lawyer and that's being taken care of. With luck, it'll all be swept under the rug and kept quiet. I'm not going to the hospital, so there's no chance of people snapping pictures. I think... I think we're covered for now. They said they'll call if they need anything else."

She reached out to touch his arm, hand sliding down to his hand, which she gave a gentle tug to draw him near. Her eyes lifted to his face as she stood, trembling inside though not now out of fear. "Thank you... for saving me. If you hadn't come back when you did, he would have done something much, much worse." She shuddered, swallowing the lump of emotion rising in her throat. "I don't want to go back downstairs right now. Can we stay here?"
 
The doorman. He thought to himself in a moment of realization. So that must have been who they chased up the stairs...Good. If he's the one who let Brandon up here, then that means they have an outside witness. That bodes much better for her than just her word against his... Someone else who knew that Brandon was here, looking for her, but had no idea that I ever even existed. That bodes better for me...

There were still plenty of reservations to be had, but from what she was telling him, things were going about as well as could be expected. Though he offered no outright verbal acknowledgment, the news had eased his tension, if only the slightest bit.

It was her touch, though, that truly stole his attention. He glimpsed down at her hand as it sought out his own, and it was with a slight twinge of confusion that he followed her guidance, stepping closer toward her. His head tilted down to allow him to meet her gaze. Of all the things he'd expected to hear from her in the aftermath of her ordeal, however, a thank you was far from the top of the list.

Whether it was fear, sadness, or pain in her voice that strained her as she spoke up; whether a mixture of the three or some other feeling entirely, her distress was palpable. Though his initial concern had been for his own safety and the security of his mission, there was no denying that he had indeed saved her from her estranged lover's assault. Whether it was out of an instinct for himself or for her did not change that. Now, he found himself staring quietly back at her, not offering her any outright comfort, and yet not pushing her away, either.

"Sure..." he answered finally with a subtle nod. "Sure...yeah, we can stay up here." His eyes roved subconsciously downward back to where she'd still held his hand. "He isn't going to be an issue anymore. Not now, at least."
 
"No, he won't," she murmured in agreement.

Realizing how long she'd let that casual touch linger, she released his hand slowly and reluctantly and took a step back until her legs hit the bed. Still watching him, she curled one leg beneath her as she sat, patting the mattress beside her. "Lay with me?" she asked. He might not be the sort to comfort her overtly, but his presence was enough to calm her. Unless he decided to kill her then and there, which she doubted he'd consider because it would complicate his life even more, he was a deterrent to danger rather than a danger himself.

Scooting back on the bed, she stretched out on the covers, drawing one of the pillows beneath her to rest her head. Her eyes remained on him, however, watching him through the semi-darkness with only the outside lights of the city illuminating the room. She tried to put all thoughts of Brandon from her head, but the image of Brian wrestling him to the ground continued to play in her mind. There was such a strength in him that she'd not recognized. It was easy for him to throw her about, for she weighed so little, but he'd taken down a fully grown man with only minimal struggle... and left him alive and breathing. That took skill and control. She imagined that's how he lived his life, as well... with skill and control.
 
Her request struck him as nothing short of unusual, for her, especially given her previous attitude toward him - and yet, it was understandable all the same. She'd been through a lot, tonight, as had he. And truth be told, she had no source of comfort to turn to. Amidst the chaos, the time had blown by like the golden South Beach sands on a strong gust of wind, and half of the night had already gone. She'd made all the calls she feasibly could until morning, and not only had she lost one of her best friends and her boyfriend in one fell swoop, the latter proved to be someone far worse than she could have ever imagined.

He had no obligation to her; he could have brushed her off and continued to go about himself and his business. But even as callous and cold an individual as he was, he was still not one to kick a defenseless woman while she was down. Besides, the night was wearing on, and he'd long since started to feel the tug of gravity weighing down more heavily on his already tense being than before. What he offered her did not amount to much more than a few small, but unmistakable nods of his head.

He turned his attention back toward his things, stowing his weapon away in its rather innocuous-looking case and sliding it back into the closet. As he closed the doors behind it, he made sure to shut and lock the bedroom door, as well. He stripped away his shirt as he rounded the bed, tossing it into a heap on the chair at the far corner of the room. The same one she'd become rather familiar with once before. He did not bother with his pants, nor much of anything else, however, moving only to remove his watch before climbing into the bed beside her.

She was not afraid of him, in that moment, that much was clear. She was looking to him for that comfort she could not get elsewhere. Yet while it may not have boded well for the intimidating light in which she'd been seeing him up until that point, he did not look to deny her.
 
He was all the comfort she had in that moment, and the only person that could make her feel safe. That irony wasn't lost on her, for their circumstances made it clear that she shouldn't trust him in the slightest. Despite the callousness he'd showed on occasion, she'd seen a measure of concern within him, as well. Perhaps not for her, perhaps only for his own safety and well being, but he'd demonstrated some level of feeling whether he knew it or not. She banked on that subconscious care, hoping he'd allow her a small measure of comfort. When he silently capitulated to her request, her body relaxed as the knot of worry in her stomach trickled away.

She gave him his own space as he climbed into bed, allowing him to settle before moving close, which she did so without reservation or hesitation. Her slender body pressed against his side as she snuggled close, resting one arm on his naked torso. She pillowed her head in the crook of his arm, all but bullying him into holding her. He could push her away, of course, but would he want to? Would her closeness bother him enough to make him move?

Sofia didn't really give him the chance to regret his decision, for she had more than comfort on her mind. She wanted him, desired him. Perhaps he might have threatened to do what Brandon had put into practice, but he'd never followed through with the act. She respected him for that, and felt the need to show him how she felt. It wasn't love, it was pure lust, and the fiery Latina had that in abundance. As her fingers began a teasing trail along his skin, she tilted her head a fraction to kiss his neck, his jaw, and work her way to his ear. She didn't speak immediately, but she did draw his earlobe into her mouth to suckle softly.
 
However strange he may have thought it that she was so eager to approach him, the warmth that radiated from her petite body was not entirely unwelcomed. He was never much one for cuddling, to be sure, or closeness of any sort, really, but that was far more a mental barrier than a physical one.

Nevertheless, even if the slightest thought of denying her had lingered anywhere beneath the surface, it was quickly quelled. Soon he felt those delicate, distracting movements of her fingertips against his body, her nails gently brushing over him, and her warm breath at the crux of his neck. As if independent of any real thought, he tilted his head subconsciously to one side ever-so-slightly, giving her further access to the skin she so readily teased. Her lips were soft, plush against him, leaving behind the phantom feeling of warmth and a faint, almost undetectable shine of saliva in the wake of her kisses.

By the time she'd gotten to his ear, his eyes had already fallen closed, his breathing slowing as the tension in his body seemed to relax by some small margin under her attention. The arm she'd nestled herself into wrapped itself around her back, not forcing her closer, but resting against her in accepting fashion, his hand finding a place to settle over the side of her ribcage. A low, deep hum resonated within his chest, quiet enough that had she not been so close to him already, she may not have even heard it at all.

He still had not said a word, but the language of his body was conveying an acceptance of her presence the closer she drew, and an unmistakable approval of her actions.
 
He hadn't pushed her way or denied her, so Sofia continued her slow and languid exploration. She'd already had his cock in her mouth, of course, so it wasn't about discovering his body for the first time. No, this was about pleasing him as a show of thanks for what he'd done. It was a twisted act, to be sure, but Sofia felt herself twisting inside simply by being with him. He was dangerous, like an elusive shadow creature that haunted her dreams, but she embraced that darkness and let it fill her up. The first step had been offering to hire him to rough up her ex. The second was the thrill she felt when she'd seen him destroy Brandon. She shouldn't have enjoyed Brandon's pain, but it was satisfying to know that he was going to be screwed up for a while yet. Perhaps he'd think twice about trying to get back at her again.

Her fingertips were teasing, roving over his chest and down his defined stomach, straying toward the waistband of his pants without slipping beneath. Her hand skimmed his ribcage, up his arm to his shoulder, and then gently caressed the stubble at his jaw. She took hold of his chin in a slightly firmer grip to hold his head to the side while she nipped at the tender flesh of his neck with her teeth. Again, her warm breath spilled over his skin and swirled at his ear as she pressed her lips close to whisper.

"Take off your pants and roll over on your stomach," she murmured softly.
 
Her gossamer touch as she explored his body brought him an internal, tingling sense of physical pleasure that he could not possibly deny. As her fingertips ran over the shallow divets between his well-defined abs and over his chest, minuscule bumps began to rise upon his skin, an uncontrollable reaction, even if he'd bothered to try and suppress them. Even his face responded positively to her attention, though the fleeting, slightly sharp sensation of her tantalizing little bite at his neck overpowered it all.

Her words were soft, carried on her breath like a warm breeze that fell upon his ear. His eyes flitted back open as she spoke them, a look of subtle perplexment within them. He tilted his head toward her, meeting her in the silence. What is she getting at? he pondered internally, unsure of what ideas were swirling behind those dark portals. Is this her way of thanking me? Or is she fucking with me again?

Whatever it was, if it was an offer meant to feel half as good as what she'd already started to do, then he had no intention of refusing it.

He reached down and undid his pants, slipping them off of his legs one by one, and dropping them in a heap at the bedside. He paused to survey her for a moment, but did not show any reluctance to turn himself over, lying face down on the comfortable mattress, the cool sheets contrasting against his warm skin. His arms came up toward the pillow, forearms folded about one another, and his face resting atop them, turned to one side so that he could see her.

"What is this?" he asked her curiously.
 
As soon as he lay back down, she slid one leg over to straddle his waist, and placed both hands on the solid muscles of his back. Her fingers began to knead, driving away the stress and strain of his fight with Brandon, soothing aching muscles, and working free the knots of tension he carried. She worked methodically, moving from the small of his back, up both sides of his spine to caress his shoulders. Her thumbs dug into the tightness of his neck and worked upward into the base of his skull. Slowly, she continued to massage, her hands strong despite their delicate appearance.

She didn't answer him immediately, too busy thinking about the question. The truth was she didn't rightly know why she felt the need to please him in some manner. Was it gratitude and relief that drove her? A truce of sorts? Or was she repaying her promise of payment? He had roughed up Brandon, after all, and he'd set the terms of that particular contract.

Despite all of the possibilities, however, the one that never crossed her mind was trying to be nice to him to get in his good graces. They were beyond that, and she knew a seduction wouldn't work. He was far too wise and experienced to fall prey to such things. He might play along, watch her throw herself at him, but he'd never let himself be swayed by her opinion simply because he found her attractive. He'd already made that perfectly clear.

Eventually she decided and leaned to murmur in his ear. "Call it a show of thanks for what you did for me."
 
His back was not an entirely blank canvas, as she'd seen before, and was now witnessing up close. His broad shoulders tapered off well into his waist, toned and well-defined muscles just beneath the surface. Aside from the large tattoo that filled out much of the space between his shoulder blades, there was no shortage of small scratches and scars, standing out in contrast to his skin, not unlike those at his chest. While none were particularly gruesome, and most very nearly blended in, unless under close scrutiny, together they told of a man who'd been involved in more than his fair share of fights, and did not escape them all completely unscathed.

As her slender fingers roamed, she would have felt the slight differences in their texture. But it seemed she had no qualms about them, as her actions, if nothing else, became increasingly clear. What was running through her mind was all but a mystery to him, but he was not one to turn down the attention she was offering. His muscles slowly but surely gave way beneath her touch, the tension fading from them little by little. She certainly was good with her hands. He'd experienced that now in more ways than one.

A slight smile crossed his lips as she finally breathed an answer against his skin. "Well, if that's the case..." he muttered lowly as he tilted his head to the opposite side. "Then I suppose you're welcome." he half-way whispered, lending himself to the relaxation and the enjoyment she seemed intent on providing him.
 
She didn't balk at touching him, nor caressing any of his scars. If anything, they made him even more interesting to her. The tattoo, as well, but she'd always had a thing for guys with ink. After working up and down his back a few times, she slid her body off and turned to face his feet. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his rear, massaging in the same manner, and then began to work down to his muscular thighs and calves. Yet again, she saw how toned he was and the strength in those muscles. It was pleasurable to feel the tension melting away beneath her hands, knowing that she was putting him into a relaxed state. It was the least she could do... but it wasn't the only thing she'd be gifting him with that night.

Once his thighs and calves and even his feet had been thoroughly massaged, she slid completely off his body and trailed her fingers back up his side. Her breasts bushed against his arm as she leaned forward to nibble at his neck "Now turn over and let me get your front," she whispered hotly in his ear. One of her hands slid past those scars to his ass and grabbed a handful of muscle, giving it a teasing squeeze.
 
He could see her image only vaguely in his periphery without craning his neck around; a movement which at that particular moment, he felt no inclination to make. When he felt her body slide away from his, he was not immediately certain what she was doing, though the answer soon came, along with a slight twinge of surprise, as the weight of her body returned and her touch was once more upon him. Well, someone sure is getting a little more comfortable with me, isn't she? Her hands practically groped at his toned, muscular hind end. Can't say I blame her, he chortled silently. It is a pretty nice ass, isn't it?

Save for the slight groans of approval that accompanied the release of a few small knots and kinks in his muscles that gave way beneath her fingers, he lay in relative silence, closing his eyes comfortably to rest, as though he were on the table of some high-class spa, rather than a bed in a highrise Miami penthouse. One luxury over another. Neither a bad place to be.

As wonderful as her surprisingly skilled hands had felt roving about, that light, warm breath against his neck greeted him once more with an entirely different breed of pleasure. Between her alluring, airy tone, the feeling of her lips and teeth against his flesh, and her hand eagerly grabbing at his ass, he would have to have been a fool not to have a strong sense of what direction she was going in, now. How far she'd go, he could not say. But he was absolutely not going to be the one to stop her.

He rolled over slowly, eyes fixating on her once more as she came into view. She had a clear view of him, now, as he lay back on his back. Easily the most complete and unimpeded one she'd had yet. Not unlike his back, his chest and body were flecked with some evidence of conflicts and injuries of ambiguous origin. The most prominent of any stood out over his left peck, though it had been covered in large part by the relatively fresh ink that covered that side of his chest. His upper arm on that side, too, was heavily inked. His abs became momentarily more defined each time he exhaled, leading down to the cock she'd gotten more than acquainted with already. Though not yet erect, it was clear that her attention had not gone entirely unnoticed down below. If she gave half the attention she'd been giving him thus far, it would not take long for that to change.

He looked her over, not so much curiously anymore, but impatiently patient. Roving over her from her face to her chest, and down the curves of her slender body, as if following a path. Simply waiting, giving her, for once, the freedom to continue as she pleased.
 
Sofia inhaled deeply as he changed positions, letting her eyes rove over his muscular torso even as he took in her figure. She reached out to caress his chest, her hand drifting teasingly down to his stomach, though strayed no further. One silken leg slid across his abdomen as she resumed her place atop him, hands resting between her thighs. Her fingers began to move once more, kneading his flesh, massaging as they explored his body. Bending down, she began to kiss every scar she could find, soft lips whispering over his flesh. Her tongue grazed his nipple as she passed, then flicked out as she reached his neck. Strong hands worked at any remaining tension in his shoulders and down to his arms while she bent over him. A soft nuzzle at his jaw pushed his head to the side to give her access to his neck. She nipped at the sensitive flesh there and then drew his earlobe into her mouth to suckle for a moment. Then, looming over him, she caught his chin in her hand and held him as she bent to kiss him.

Initially, it was a light kiss, meant to tease rather than provide satisfaction, but Sofia couldn't help herself. Her lips parted, tongue snaking out to invade his mouth, wanting to taste him. The weight atop him shifted, pressing closer to his chest, her warmth seeking his. He could feel the heat between her thighs as she lowered herself to his lap, grinding gently, searching for the erection that she knew would be swift in coming. Her tongue sought to twine with his and draw it into her mouth, suckling, tasting, wanting more of him. A soft moan rolled through her slender form as her sex began to throb with need. How was it that just his kiss made her horny?

Sofia didn't question it. She simply let herself be swept away by it and indulged in the feel of him against her, the toned flesh beneath her hands, and the sweetness of his mouth upon her tongue. Her hips rolled teasingly, urging him toward those feelings already coursing through her, that desperate need that woke at the touch of his body. She had no idea where he'd been that evening, and could have easily been fucking strippers for all she knew, but she really didn't care who he'd been with or why. She wanted him, and unless he rejected her (which didn't seem likely), she was going to have all of him.
 
Whatever he'd been thinking about before, she'd done an impeccable job of distracting him. The only thing he was focused on now, was her. The touch of her hands, the warmth of her body, even the light tickle of her hair falling over him, framing her face as she roamed his body with her lips. His chest rose and fell steadily beneath her the further upward she ventured, until she'd found his neck. He was eager to allow her to suckle and kiss at his skin once more, but the initial kiss that followed caught him by surprise.

Surprise, that was, only for a moment. Because as she returned to his lips a second time, he welcomed her, his own lips parting, his own warm, waiting muscle greetings her from the moment she slipped it his way. He felt her adjusting her body atop him, felt her thighs sliding down lower over his hips. Felt his cock twitch as she brushed over it, exactly as she'd intended. It was growing stiffer, filling with warm, rushing blood, little by little. He kissed her back with a desire that matched her own, his hand at last coming up and running through her long, dark hair, its silky smooth strands getting caught between his fingers and being brushed back as he reached around and wrapped his strong hand around the back of her neck. He held her that way, taking his turn in exploring her with his tongue.

The gentle rocking of her hips did not go unnoticed. Soon, it was met with the response of his own, swaying upward in kind, trapping his ever-growing length between their bodies. His left arm moved, hand seeking out her waist, finding a strip of bare skin at her midriff and gliding his fingers upward beneath the fabric of her top. He broke their kiss and opened those piercing gray eyes to meet her own, as he tugged the bottom hem of her shirt upward, first with one hand, and then with both, making it clear what he wanted without a word, and slowly pulling it off of her.
 
Breathless as he released her from the kiss, Sofia sat up slightly as he pulled at her shirt. The thin cotton fabric dragged over her dusky skin and past her full breasts. As it gathered about her neck, she helped him to pull it off and tossed it onto the floor. She'd put on a bra before the police had come, pink lace, and her cleavage strained against the fabric.

Reaching behind her, she unhooked the strap and the tension in the fabric ceased as she drew the straps down one arm and then the other. Pulling the garment off, she tossed it to the side, as well, freeing her beautiful round breasts completely. Her nipples hadn't yet hardened within the darker circles. Leaning forward again, she brought those mounds within easy reach of his hands and mouth as she bent to nibble at his ear once more.

His erection didn't go unnoticed. Lowering her hips, she pressed her heated sex against his, moaning softly in his ear as she ground against him, shivering each time his cock rubbed against her throbbing clit through the fabric. Soon, she'd have that cock inside her, but she was enjoying the tease for now, and knew he was doing the same. As with him, she'd not yet uttered a single word. They both knew where this was going, and talking wasn't at all necessary.
 
The bra she'd been wearing had pushed her breasts up and together so perfectly, his eyes were immediately drawn to the deep, tantalizing crease that had been formed between them. But compared to what he knew lie just beneath that enticing layer of lace, even that paled in comparison. There was anticipation rampant in his gaze as he watched her undress them. So full, and so perky, that even without the support, they barely fell so much as an inch upon her chest. Those dark little nubs of flesh practically stared back at him, begging to be touched. And who was he to deny them the attention?

As he felt her hot breath pour out over his ear, his hand independently made a move toward her, fingers brushing down over her collarbone and seeking out one of those inviting mounds, until it ran over her nipple, and he could cup her fullness in his grasp. He explored it thoroughly, tracing its shape with his palm. Circling its most sensitive point with an intentionally teasing, light touch. As he felt it begin to grow taut, he took it between his finger and this thumb, squeezing it. Brushing his fingertips back and forth over it, all the while knowing exactly what the attention was doing to her.

His dick may have been aching for more already, but even the rhythmic grinding of her fully covered crotch had an impressive effect on him, eliciting a few low sounds of his own, and an only just barely noticeable heavier quality to his breath. His attention was split between the feeling of her youthful, full breast in his hand, the hot pressure and friction of her hips atop his stiffening member, and the warm embrace of her mouth upon his ear and his neck that he was enjoying far more than he had anticipated. Her movements had brought her own neck within inches of his face, and she'd no doubt be feeling his breath, as well. Even if she hadn't, he would make sure that she did as he tilted his head forward and planted his lips to her neck, sampling her only once before taking her soft skin between his teeth, gliding with his tongue and sucking on her wantingly.
 
The attention to her breasts rewarded him with a soft moan as her nipples contracted and tightened. She shivered at he pinched down on that hard point, tongue pausing for a moment in exploration as the sweet jolt of lust flowed from her nipples to her aching sex. Another sound of pleasure came from her throat when his teeth found her neck, causing goosebumps to appear upon her flesh. She repaid his attentions with her own, licking and nipping from his earlobe down to his neck and to his shoulder.

Finally, she reluctantly broke away from his mouth and hands, crawling backwards down his body. She tasted him as she went, lips and tongue and teeth sampling his flesh, lathing his skin and caressing softly. When she'd straddled his legs and found herself at his waist, her eyes lifted briefly to his and smirked. Her teeth found the waistband of his underwear and dragged it downward as she backed away, pulling them down his thighs until his cock burst free.

She released his underwear and nuzzled that shaft, burying her face against the base of his cock to flick her tongue over his balls. Inhaling sharply, filling her nose with his scent, she licked up his cock from base to tip and swirled her tongue over his head. He disappeared between her lips a moment later, a slow bob taking her partially down the shaft where her tongue could tease him. A rumbling moan of contentment from her throat vibrated through them both.
 
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