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High Profile (ShadowOfDesire and Catalyst)

The louder the noises that came from deep within her grew, the more intense his own movements became, his hand riding the wave that had become of her body as she bucked it up and down against him like a wild tide. Her hand around him had begun to grip him more tightly, working him harder, and eliciting more from within him as well. His breathing was changing as he found himself focused more now than ever on bringing her to the edge. His silvery eyes threatened to pierce through her with their increasingly seductive stare.

Faster.

"That's it...cum for me like the dirty fucking girl you are." he hissed, enjoying himself more with every desperate sound she made.

Her request for a name caught him off guard. And yet by that point, he was already far too enthralled in the overwhelming heat of her impending climax to deny her. "Fuck...It's Brian..." he groaned out. Suddenly, he propped himself up further and adjusted himself just enough to have full leverage over her, and to look directly into her eyes, breath falling against her as he pressed the palm of his hand against her sex, slipping two fingers back inside of her, and working her erratically, feverishly as she neared her edge. "Now fucking cum for me..!" he commanded her.
 
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Sofia couldn't stop herself even if she tried. Even if he hadn't ordered her to, overwhelmed her with his closeness, captured her with those eyes. Even if he'd not changed his position to fuck her even harder with his fingers. Her hips slammed up against his hand, ass bounced on the mattress beneath her from the force, and she came. She came all over his fingers, gushing into his hand, hard and fast. Her body seized and trembled, her tight cunt clamped down even tighter on him, and she moaned. But she didn't just moan. She moaned his name.

"Brian..." She moaned softly, low and husky, as though it was the only word in the world that mattered to her. He saw that spark of lust in her eyes as she gazed at him. Then her orgasm took full hold of her, and her eyes closed as she arched her back and cried out. The hand on his cock tightened and then stilled.

She fell back to the bed, shivering and twitching, whimpering as her thighs closed in about his fingers to stop the sweet, torturous assault. Her eyes fluttered open as she suddenly remembered her own duties and went back to stroking him, driving him toward his own orgasm. Her body continued to tremble, tiny aftershocks of pleasure rolling through her without warning, making her squirm.

"Your turn," she murmured, her fingers gliding up and down his shaft even faster.
 
That name from her lips just might have been the most alluring, most entrancing sound he'd heard in quite some time. He felt the exact moment that sent her over the edge, as her warm, wet cunt entrapped him, ensnared him, and drenched his hand in her burning liquid pleasure. He could not help but groan out himself as the sweet sounds of her body were coupled only by the sensual screams of a woman in utter ecstasy and his own ragged breathing in an otherwise silent room a half a mile up in the sky.

He didn't want to stop, he kept going until her thighs closed in about him and left him no other choice. Even then, he had more of a mind than ever to bend her over and take her right then and there. The way she writhed and wriggled in her state of bliss, and the rise and fall of those big perky breasts upon her chest as she breathed out raggedly, slowly coming down from her high. It was driving him wild, and now his cock was left aching more than ever before.

The hand that began to stroke his length made him draw in a breath, as he stared back into her eyes, equally lustful, and with even more intent. Slowly, he leaned back into the bed without a word, never taking his eyes off of her. His balls ached, craving more attention than even the well versed movements of her hand could provide. Either way, it would not be much longer before he found his own release.

His eyes fell halfway closed as he head tilted back into the mattress, and he gave himself little by little more into the sensations she was stirring up within him. The hand that was between her legs slowly slipped away, but not without deliberately brushing all along her along the way. They glistened with her juices, practically dripping from their tips as he brought them toward himself. The sweet, intoxicating smell was just the same as it had been earlier that day. Only now, he was looking directly at her as he brought them to his lips, and licked them clean of the mess she'd made, tasting her with the ghost of a grin creeping across his face.
 
Her thighs closed together tightly the moment his fingers pulled free, both with regret and relief, shivering as she watched him taste her. Disgusting, she thought. But so fucking hot. She really, really wanted to hate him for doing it to her. All of it. But the pleasurable sensations still coursed through her, and they didn't leave room for hate. Nor love. There was only lust and bliss and the drive to chase both wildly and blindly.

Curled again on her side, her hand continued to stroke him, though his cock was growing dry. On a whim, her hand lifted away and reached between her own legs, twitching as she brushed against her clit. Her fingers returned to him a moment later, now slick with her own lust and desire, aiding her hand as it slid up and down his length.

Faster she moved, deliberately rubbing along those most sensitive spots that she knew every man found pleasing. Her palm grazed the underside as she dipped again to fondle his balls, coating them in her own juices and rolling them about before she returned to his shaft. Pumping, harder, faster... her arm was beginning to burn. She wished her other was free so she could change off, but she had to make to and press on.

Still panting, this time from the effort she was putting in to please him, she glanced from his cock to his face once again, watching him as she worked his shaft. Come, damnit. Fucking come already. She was stubborn enough that she wasn't going to stop, determined to make him shudder and moan like he'd made her do.
 
He was enjoying the feeling far too much to want it to stop, but as she reached between her legs, and returned to him with that sweet, slick essence around his length, he knew he was not going to last much longer, despite his best efforts.

He reached up and began to play at her tits once more, deliberately toying with her as his own hips bucked up with greater force, fucking her hand as she stroked him off. Ungh...those low, rough groans began to work their way up from his chest, his balls tightening as she cupped them in her slippery hands.

"Fuck..." he groaned aloud. "Just like that...harder..." he encouraged her onward, breathing harder and more shakily with each passing second. It was welling up within him more rapidly than he could take, and he felt every bit of pressure that yearned desperately to escape his cock. "Ooh fuck!"

He could not hold it in any longer. Suddenly, the hand that was at her breasts moved upward, and without a thought his fingers curled about her neck, exerting not enough pressure to cause her any harm or danger, but more than enough for her to feel his strong grip. He growled out deeply, the veins of his thick, rock hard cock throbbing and pulsating wildly in her hand until finally, he reached the point of no return.

There was no verbal warning. Only the increasing loud groans of euphoria as his hips rocked up and down into her hand, and the way he tilted his head all the way back and slammed his eyes shut as he finally exploded, shooting thick, hot ropes of ivory that burst forth from within him with incredible force. His seed spurted in the air, one after another, the majority of it landing upon his chest, and effectively soiling his black shirt, and some of it landing upon her hand.

His noises were like that of a wild animal, guttural, deep, and gruff, bellowing throughout the room. Even as he came down from his release, the air that escaped his throat carried along with it the gravel of unrivaled pleasure.
 
She pumped him until there was no more to give, until he'd stopped bucking, and fell still. Heedless of the sticky cum that coated her hand, or of where else he might shoot his load, she kept up her part of the bargain and pumped. The hand about her throat made her tremble, expecting him to squeeze the breath from her, but the pressure didn't increase and her hammering heart slowed. As soon as he'd collapsed, she stopped stroking him and slowly removed her hand. She drew her hand behind her and wiped his cum on her underwear since they were already soiled with her own lust and would need to be washed. She'd not notice a bit more wetness, anyhow.

Her arm finally collapsed against her side, tired and burning. She wasn't breathing as heavily as he, but she'd already experienced her climax and her body was slowly cooling. Closing her eyes, she took a few moments to recover, each ragged pant a bit softer until her breathing had normalized.

What did I just do? She couldn't really believe it. It was all too bizarre. She had to remind herself that she really hadn't had a choice. If she'd done nothing, he would have still jerked off and probably jizzed on her for good measure while she was asleep. At least now, she had one hand free and could probably convince him to free the other. A shiver rolled through her, and she swallowed thickly beneath the hand gripping her throat.

Finally, she opened her eyes to stare at him, a bit bewildered and somewhat embarrassed about what they'd done. What she'd done. And what she'd let him do to her. Her eyes fell to his shirt, dark stripes of cum marking it. Did he bring luggage for his stay? Like a damned hotel? The thought irked her to no end.

"I'm hungry as fuck," she announced out of the blue. After the events of the day, she was hungry and exhausted, in that order. "Can I go cleanup and get something to eat? Do you want something to eat?" Even more annoying that she had to ask him permission, but then he was the only way she'd be getting out of that bed.
 
Eventually, his hand did release its grip on her throat, trailing back down toward her breasts for good measure before falling at his side. The absence of her hand around his still pulsing shaft was a disappointment, but one that was bound to come eventually. He was left feeling satisfied, despite the urge deep within him to do so much more. The only things stronger at the moment were his hunger and his exhaustion, both of which needed tending to.

He watched her in silence as she wiped her hand clean, still looking her up and down. The fact that she'd just cum on his hand, and made him do the same with her own, if anything, had only served to inflate his already dangerously large ego. The grin that came across his lips as he examined her was all the more proof of that.

Her suggestion drew from him a quiet chuff, and a subtle shake of the head. Lifting his head to glance down at his shirt, he sighed heavily. "God damn it. Well, there goes that..." he muttered, sitting up on the edge of the bed bare-assed with his pants still down around his knees and looking back at her over his shoulder. His length had settled against his thigh in the process, still engorged from all the attention it had just been given, but slowly returning to rest.

"Fine." he said. "I could eat myself. Never got the chance to earlier, having to deal with you and your damn foot." he pointed out. He rose from the bed and turned to face her, his member dangling between his legs as he adjusted himself and pulled his underwear and his pants back up to his hips. The shirt, however, would have to go. He unbuttoned it rather carelessly and stripped it off, revealing to her the well defined, muscular body that lie beneath it. His chest and back rippled as he removed it and tossed it casually to the side to be dealt with later. He'd brought more than enough clothes with him, and the last thing on his mind was worrying about the state of his shirt.

He grabbed his blade and walked over to the other side of the bed, eyeing her even as he did so. Just as he touched the sharp edge to her remaining restraint, he shot her an intense stare. "I don't think I need to say it again..." he warned her without even so much as saying what the both of them knew he would. With a quick motion, he severed the rope and freed her wrist.
 
She contracted into herself, rubbing her wrist as he freed it, finally able to sit up without bending over in an awkward position. Drawing in a breath, her eyes roved over his naked torso, taking in the lines of his body and the muscles that rippled when he moved. Something within her quivered. Fuck, he's hot. Still a prick, but a hot one. She wanted to run her hands over his broad shoulders and defined chest, but that'd give him entirely new ideas.

"Truce," she said. Nodding at his warning, she slid to the edge of the bed and pulled her shirt down over her breasts. Hesitantly, she stood, putting weight on her injured foot. There was no lingering glass to dig into her flesh, which was a relief. It hurt, but it was a dull ache, not a sharp throbbing pain. "Thank you for my foot," she said, though she'd promised herself that he was really to blame for it. "I don't do well with blood... especially my own. Normally, I just get a bit dizzy." She felt slightly nauseated just talking about it, so she shook her head.

Without asking, she plucked his shirt from the floor where he'd so carelessly tossed it and took it with her as she headed downstairs. Whatever she was, however much a pain in the ass she was to him, she already showed signs of being a clean freak. The pain in her heel made her limp a trifle, but only a little. As she reached the lower level, she paused, seeing blood on the floor.

"Fuck," she muttered, realizing she'd have to clean it up.

Trying not to look at it too closely, she diverted toward her bedroom to get a change of clothes. Fresh panties for sure. Her shirt hadn't been soiled by their shared passion, but she definitely needed new underwear. She'd soaked through the ones she wore. Moving into her closet, she stripped off her underwear, regardless of whether he'd followed her or not. She was playing the game, so there was little sense in hiding behind anger and modesty now. So as she moved about the room, he had an eyeful of what he'd already witnessed in the shower -- her pert ass and bare sex, though her pussy glistened with the nectar he had all over his hand.
 
He nodded back at her in impassive agreement as he stepped away from the bed, leaving her to get her bearings at her own pace while he double checked all of his equipment. Sure enough, the bug that had been placed on Mr. DeSantos' car had not moved.

"Yeah, I kinda figured as much." he chuffed at the notion of her issues with blood. "Don't worry about it. Not like leaving you with a shard of glass or a hole in your foot would have done me any good." When she left the room, grabbing the shirt he'd just discarded, he silently scoffed. Between that and her earlier actions, he was beginning to put together just how hell-bent she seemed to be on keeping things neat, and he couldn't help but find it humorous, given her current situation.

Indeed, he had followed her into her room, leaning against the wall between the closet and the bedroom that gave him a full view into both rooms. They'd called a truce, but he still wasn't fully buying that she wouldn't try and escape if he gave her too much leeway.

Besides, despite having just done a lot more than simply looking, he was still not turning down any opportunity to do just that. She could call him a creeper if she wanted. He didn't mind. He'd still look regardless. Sure, it wasn't as though he hadn't had his fair share of opportunities for some eye candy, every now and then, but this, well...this was practically gourmet.

"Shame you have to put anything back on at all." he mocked as he watched her. "I gotta say...I can definitely see the appeal."
 
She shot him a look, not one of anger, but more of exasperation. He was an irritant that she couldn't rid herself of, and they both knew it. "You're a pig. I'm not going to be prancing around the house naked," she said, slipping on a new pair of panties. They were pink and patterned with darker pink roses. She tossed her soiled underwear into a hamper by the door and his shirt into the one beside it. "You gonna follow me to the toilet, as well?"

Huffing, she disappeared into the bathroom and angled into the separate water closet, not waiting on his reply before closing the door firmly behind her. She emerged a few moments later to wash and dry her hands. Her gaze shifted to herself in the mirror and then sought out his reflection. Pausing as she dried her hands, she glanced from him to the shower and her eyes narrowed. "Were you in my house when I was taking a shower? Were you spying on me even then?" It had been just before he'd grabbed her from the kitchen. Had he watched her bathe? She shuddered at the violation, a sickening feeling growing in her stomach. No wonder he was so casual about getting her naked. He'd already seen everything she had to offer. "Did it excite you? Did you touch yourself while you watched?"

He'd been hard when he grabbed her, pressing his cock against her ass. Had that been because he'd seen her naked? She supposed she should have been flattered, but she couldn't excuse the violation. She hated him for that, and he knew it. Even despite what she'd done, what they'd done to each other, there was no affection in her eyes as she passed him.

Before leaving her closet, she pulled on a pair of shorts that matched her top, wanting another layer of clothing between them. Not that it would protect her if he wanted to strip her, but it gave her a little peace of mind that he wasn't staring at her though her panties. Removing a dark towel from the linen closet, she moved back into the living area. Rather than clean up the blood on the floor, she tossed the towel over it and the bit of glass from her foot so she wouldn't have to look or deal with it immediately.

"I'm making a sandwich. Do you want one or are you eating your own food?" She didn't want to serve him like she was his slave, but it was a small concession to make to be free.
 
Truly, he had half a mind to accept her facetious offer for no other reason than to piss her off. Alas, he wound up remaining leaned against the wall, rolling his eyes to himself as she nearly slammed that door. Such a nice girl, he huffed to himself sarcastically. He'd still been standing in that same spot when she returned and spotted him in the mirror, though, and at her realization, he offered little more than a half-cocked shrug and a faint upward tilt at the corner of his lips that confirmed her suspicion. "At the time, I was too focused on the fact that you weren't supposed to be here to do all that," he remarked. "But I did have to keep a close eye on you. You know...make sure I could get the drop on you." he tilted his head to one side. "and I may have watched a little extra carefully."

Once she'd made her way out of the closet and passed him, he pushed himself off the wall, following her out in a way that ironically enough was not entirely dissimilar to how he'd done so that afternoon. The key difference, besides his lack of a shirt, was that she was well aware now of the imposing presence behind her. He glanced down at the mess she'd chosen to cover with the towel, before leaning over the kitchen island, observing her as she made her way through it.

Of course, he could have simply eaten his own food. But where was the fun in that, when he could have her cater to him? Besides, he'd already stashed it away in the fridge, and rewarmed fish did not sound particularly appealing to him at that moment. "Sure, I'll take one. Maybe another beer too. Handed to me, preferably."

By now, he'd sat himself atop one of the barstools, leaning forward just slightly with his elbows and forearms resting on the countertop. If she had any desire to examine him, she may have at some point taken note of some of the markings upon his body; the tattoos on the left side of his chest, the center of his upper back, and his right bicep, along with a few rogue scars being among them.

He drank from the bottle once she'd given it to him, nonchalantly watching as she began to make their exceptionally late meals. "So trouble in paradise, huh?" he inquired suddenly on a whim of curiosity. "What happened? Boyfriend fuck some other broad or what?"
 
She handed him another import, a different brand than before, and pulled one out for herself, as well. Trying her best to ignore him while he stared at her, she gathered up the items she'd need for a couple of sandwiches and spread them out on the counter. He'd note that they were all healthier options, organic, or fancier options from other countries. No cheap white bread and fattening mayo in her fridge. Swiping a knife across a piece of whole grain bread to spread out a dollop of imported mustard, her jaw twitched at his question. She finally glanced up, though briefly, those dark eyes hard in her irritation.

"Yes, the bastard that he is. I found him fucking the girl that I thought was my best friend. They claimed they'd been drunk, that it was just a one time thing, but I'm not stupid. I grabbed his phone before he could and found all of the texts they'd been sending to one another. Sneaking behind my back for the past six months, fucking whenever they could, sending each other nudes. She's a whore. I hope his dick rots off."

If it were possible to aggressively make a sandwich, she was preforming the act right in front of him. She made on to her own liking, topped with greens that she violently ripped to pieces before slamming down the top piece of bread. Inhaling sharply, she waved a hand at the ingredients on the counter, silently asking which he'd like. There were a variety of sandwich meats, cheeses, and condiment options.

"Anyway, he's history. I left him in France to find his own fucking way back. I think he's forgotten that I pay for everything. He's gotten too accustomed to never having to shell out a time, to flying wherever he wants to go on a private plane, and having people cater to him wherever he goes. That ended the moment I caught him with his dick in her cunt." She smiled viciously. "They're going to have a hell of a bill presented to them before they leave, and the total is going to max out one or more of their credit cards."
 
"Ouch..." he muttered. "Well that fuckin' sucks. It's always the best friend, ain't it?" No wonder she'd come back so soon then. It wasn't a lack of information or a fuck-up at all. He recalled the name she'd mentioned when he first captured her. Brandon. He and this other girls' stupidity was indeed the primary reason she was stuck here, now.

Ditching your cheating boyfriend and your best friend, only to end up in the arms of an assassin...

Yikes.

He glanced fleetingly over the myriad of options she presented to him. The sheer volume of choices one person could have at their own personal was absurd to him. Her fridge was practically an entire sandwich shop full of ingredients, all of them of the over-priced, organic, all-natural, grass-fed, baptized by the holy father and God only knows what else varieties. It would have been enough to make any average person roll their eyes. Expensive tastes...that's for sure. Him, on the other hand, he was a simple man. Especially when it came to food. "Just ham and cheese." he said to her. "I don't care which cheese. Surprise me. Just no moldy blue shit."

One thing he had to acknowledge, though, cracking his own small smirk as he listened to her story, was that while that attitude of hers may have pissed him off to no end, she was not one to take bullshit. Seemingly, she hadn't just cried about being fucked over. She actively got them back for it. "Sounds like it was pretty God damn well deserved to me." he endorsed, sipping from his beer. "I've heard of kicking them out and taking back your shit, but leaving someone in a completely different country to fend for themselves? That's on an entirely different level..." he paused, chuckling. "...I like it."
 
She smirked at his praise. "They should have thought about that before fucking with me. They've got their passports and some cash. They'll just have to fly coach, is all. And their flight back will take three times longer than normal. It's the little things in life that bring me joy." Actually, she wasn't sure what brought her joy. Not any more. She loved having fans, loved that they slobbered over her pictures, but that connection was a shallow one. She had no deeper connections. No true friends. Just people that worked for her and were paid to do what she wanted.

Her smile faltered a touch as she finished his sandwich -- she'd made him a smoked ham and Swiss with spicy mustard -- and slid it across the counter to him. She began packing up the food before she turned to her own, tidying up as she always did. She wasn't certain why she hated messes, but she couldn't stand having anything out of place. Perhaps it was the only thing she could really control in her life. Before joining him, she pulled a bag of chips from the pantry. Just a plain bag of ordinary greasy potato chips, which she ripped open and dumped out a handful on her plate. She left them on the counter in case he wanted some and planted herself on one of the stools, leaving one as a buffer between them.

Sitting sideways, so she could watch him, she snacked on her chips. "So... can I ask you about your work? Not specifics... not if you can't tell me about it, but just in general? Are you a spy? An assassin? You work for the mob or something?" Everything she knew she'd gotten from the movies, of course, so she had no realistic basis for what he'd possibly be doing in her house. Watching someone, she'd gathered, but for what purpose?
 
"Oh no, not coach! Anything but that!" he teased, feigning horror. "I bet seein' their faces when they got stuck with the bills woulda been pretty damn priceless, though." By the time she'd finished making his sandwich, he was eagerly awaiting it. Watching as she made it had only increased his appetite, and it was looking good. The plate had barely come to a stop before he was taking a massive bite out of it. Only then had he realized how hungry he'd actually been. For everything he'd seen thus far, he was rather surprised when he saw the bag of plain chips she'd pulled out. If anything, he was expecting her to be the Veggie Straws or Kale Chips type...the thought alone was offputting. He was far from complaining, though, reaching in and taking a handful for himself while she settled herself in.

"Hmph...didn't anyone ever teach you not to mention the mob around people you don't know? If the answer would have been yes, you'd have just gotten yourself in even more trouble than you already are." He spoke halfway in jest, and glanced her way as he crunched down on a chip. "Guess that means you're lucky it ain't." As he turned his head to look at her more fully, he subconsciously raised his brow. "No, and I'd venture to say if 'the mob' knows who I am, they probably don't exactly care for me."

It was only a matter of time before she inquired as to who...what exactly he was once again. He knew that. But deciding how much to tell her, that was another matter. "I don't work for anybody. Well...not really." he shrugged. "People hire me to do some...'things' for them, so I guess you could call it that. But I'm the one who controls when and how those things get done." he took another bite of his sandwich and washed it down with a long swig of his beer. "Take my word for it, the less you know about what those 'things' are, the better. Especially about these things, in particular. Curiosity killed the cat, ya know."

He had a hunch that answer wouldn't quite satisfy her. In truth, it was not as though he'd be able to hide the nature of his work very long. Not while simultaneously having to keep her in his own line of sight. Who exactly was he planning to protect with his vaguery, at this point, anyway? Her, or himself?
 
"Nobody ever admits to being in the mob," she said with a sigh. "Most won't even admit that there is a mob. I don't know why men think that we're so stupid and unobservant." She'd cut her sandwich in half along the diagonal and finally picked it up to start eating at the pointed end. "My father is like that. Thinks that I'm pretty and empty-headed. Maybe he's right. Or maybe he's just an asshole." She shrugged one shoulder.

As she reached for her beer, she eyed him, gaze lingering on his bare torso and his tattoos. She didn't comment on them, however. While she appreciated his muscular form, she definitely didn't want to give him any other ideas. He had enough of those on his own. Even so, it was difficult to look away from his half-naked body. She couldn't get the vision of him looming over her out of her head.

Wisely, she didn't press him any further on his work. She'd likely see enough of it while he was a guest within her home. However, she was curious if she'd be forced to lay around and watch him while he continued working. "Are you done with your job for the night, then? I thought... if you are... maybe we should discuss sleeping arrangements and how this is going to work between us." She took another bite, giving him a speculative look, wondering if he'd already thought about it or come up with a plan.

She cocked her head, lifting her eyes to the corner of the ceiling. "Did you disable my security cameras?"
 
He offered her an alternate sort of shrug of his own, gesturing with his own head in a brief tilt to the side and a slight downward curl of the lips. Maybe.

Her eyes upon him did not go unnoticed; but if she was not going to call attention to it, then neither was he. His own gaze was more than happy to examine her at any given moment, and he had no qualms in allowing her to do the same, confident in his appearance almost as much as he was in his own skills. Instead, his attention had returned purely to his meal until she called it away once more.

The look he shot her when she mentioned the cameras gave her the answer before he'd even had a chance. "You didn't seriously think I'd leave a live security feed of the very place I was going to be, a direct line of sight to my identity, go uninterrupted, now, did you?" he grinned. "You don't know the half of the planning that went into choosing this place. Security cameras, guards, the apartment staff...about the only thing that wasn't accounted for...was you."

"But, now that you're here, I have no choice but to account for you. And as for the sleeping, well..." he leaned back in his seat against the stool's iron back. "There's nothing more I can do tonight. But while you might not like it, I'm sure you can understand with your possibly-not-so-empty-head why it wouldn't exactly be in my best interests for me to allow you to sleep in your own space with nothing to keep you from trying to run away. That being said...I think that leaves us with two, rather predictable options..." he paused, taking another bite of his food and bracing his arm against the back of the stool, facing her.

"Either I let you have your bed of choice, and I tie you to it like before, block your door, and still probably sleep closeby, just for good measure..." he continued. "or...you sleep with me." neither of those options, he was sure, would appeal to her. "If you're nice about it, I'll even allow you to choose." he remarked as he reached for his beer.
 
She paused, mid-bite, and stared at him. After a moment, she finally took that bite and chewed thoughtfully, still watching him closely. Her elbow rested on the counter as she considered his options.

"Well, I was going to suggest two things. First, assuming that you'd disabled the cameras, you could turn them back on so you could use them to keep an eye on me during the day when you're busy. That way we aren't always together, especially when you're working, and you'll always be able to see where I am and what I'm doing. They backup to the server, but you can turn off that feature so none of the footage is saved. Of course, you probably know that, being an expert and all."

"Secondly, I'm not keen to sleep tied up. It isn't comfortable, and if I have to pee in the middle of the night, I'd have to wake you up and get you to untie me, and you'd probably be cranky about it, and then I'd be cranky about it. I don't think either of us wants that."

"My bed is the biggest and the most comfortable, which we could share without annoying one another. There's only one door in or out besides the bathroom, which doesn't have another door attached. You could lock the outer door, secure it however you like, and there's no where I could go without you knowing about it."

She continue to eye him, lips slightly pursed. "I bet you're a light sleeper. You aren't prone to violence if woken unexpectedly, are you? I mean, I'm not going to get shot or stabbed or something because you have a nightmare, right?"
 
He had dug back into his own just the same as she began to speak, following a bite that took nearly half of what remained of his sandwich with a couple more chips and a swig of beer. He'd done so fully expecting her to become annoyed at best with the options that had been provided to her, waiting to hear some ridiculous excuse or reasoning why she didn't need to be watched so closely, and mentally preparing himself to deal with exactly that. Yet she hadn't done any of that that. Far from, in fact. He stopped in his tracks when she made her suggestion about the cameras, his hand wrapped around the bottle he'd pressed to his lips.

Slowly, he pulled it away, lowering it back down onto the counter as his eyes fixated upon her. His brow was furrowed, to the point of a single wrinkle standing out in the middle of his forehead. He glimpsed up at the camera, and then back at her, meeting her eyes. One was cocked upward as he studied her, licking his lips subconsciously. He straightened up in his seat, and his gaze scrutinized her from her head to her toes and back again. Did she just..?

I hadn't thought of that...he realized. Though he did not say it outwardly, she may well have been able to deduce as much from his ponderous expression. Huh...maybe she isn't so stupid, after all...

In the end, he didn't address the comment at all, too concerned with wondering why she would choose to offer him such an idea, and wondering why he hadn't thought of it himself. She continued to surprise him as she relented without a fight to his choices, and made hers known.

"Well..." he paused briefly, "it sounds like we have a plan, then. Your bed it is...seems like you've already given it some thought yourself, hmm? I'm impressed that you didn't have more to say about it than that."

"I am a very light sleeper," he emphasized. "But so long as you don't do anything stupid, like say, try to get ahold of my weapon or attack me, I think you'll be just fine. I typically don't kill before I've had my coffee." he quipped darkly.
 
"Noted," she said, eyeing him. "I don't know how to use a gun anyhow. I'd probably shoot myself by accident." Not surprising given her lifestyle. "I'm a light sleeper, too. The slightest thing wakes me up. Like a hand on my ass or some creep jerking off in the room." She eyed him and smirked.

"I also don't get up early. I prefer to stay up late and sleep in, unless I have to be somewhere for a shoot. If you want breakfast, the fridge is stocked. Coffee, too. The good shit. Freshly ground. I don't do instant."

She finished off her sandwich and wiped her mouth. "I did give it some thought because it is important to find some way to coexist. You aren't leaving. I can't leave. So we've got to get along somehow. I know you can do whatever the hell you want to me, but that'd be exhausting for us both. I don't want to piss you off again, so the best way is to find some sort of compromise."

"If I protest something, it's because it is stupid. Or ridiculous. Or outrageous. You don't have to act so surprised that I might come up with a good idea." She chuckled.
 
"Mmm...Touché." he remarked, stifling back a laugh as he turned his attention back toward polishing off his own meal, as well. Though not like you being awake would have stopped me. he added mentally while shooting her a side-eyed glance. "Good. The less I have to deal with you that early in the morning, the better."

She raised valid points, though he may not have been so quick to admit that aloud. The last thing he'd expected given their violent initial interactions was for her to now be so level-headed. In the back of his mind, he was still pretty certain she was up to something, but he wasn't sure what. That she'd actually given him an idea on how to keep tabs on her had only thrown him off further. Maybe cumming actually did the bitch some good. He humored himself with the thought. More than likely, though, he figured the fear of getting herself killed may well have had a bit more to do with it.

With his plate cleaned, he reached for his bottle, looking back at her. "Not so much that you came up with a good idea," he remarked, "but the fact that you actually suggested it to me. Keep doing that, and I just might get the wrong idea." He gave her a wicked grin as he took the last, deep swig of his beer.

"Whatever the case, I'm pretty fucking exhausted, right about now, myself," he said after a moment of quiet. "You at least had a nice little nap. I haven't had that same luxury, and I've got some calls to make in the morning."
 
"Mmm...Touché." he remarked, stifling back a laugh as he turned his attention back toward polishing off his own meal, as well. Though not like you being awake would have stopped me. he added mentally while shooting her a side-eyed glance. "Good. The less I have to deal with you that early in the morning, the better."

She raised valid points, though he may not have been so quick to admit that aloud. The last thing he'd expected given their violent initial interactions was for her to now be so level-headed. In the back of his mind, he was still pretty certain she was up to something, but he wasn't sure what. That she'd actually given him an idea on how to keep tabs on her had only thrown him off further. Maybe cumming actually did the bitch some good. He humored himself with the thought. More than likely, though, he figured the fear of getting herself killed may well have had a bit more to do with it.

With his plate cleaned, he reached for his bottle, looking back at her. "Not so much that you came up with a good idea," he remarked, "but the fact that you actually suggested it to me. Keep doing that, and I just might get the wrong idea." He gave her a wicked grin as he took the last, deep swig of his beer.

"Whatever the case, I'm pretty fucking exhausted, right about now, myself," he said after a moment of quiet. "You at least had a nice little nap. I haven't had that same luxury, and I've got some calls to make in the morning."
 
"If you want me to keep fighting tooth and nail to get free, I will, though I don't know what good that will do. If I escape, would you really leave me alive? Or would you track me down and kill me and my family just for good measure? See, I can't trust you not to do that, so... I'm going to try to be as... hospitable as I can. Within reason." She offered him a flat stare, making certain he'd heard that last part. She'd noticed that he had a tendency to pick out what he wanted to hear so he could tease her about it. "And cameras are better than being restrained twenty-four-seven, so I think it'll work out better for us."

Long enough for me to come up with a plan to get rid of you for good. Long enough to get a message to her father, who knew some very dangerous people that might be able to deal with the dangerous man sitting beside her.

She finished off the last of her beer and slipped from her stool to clean up, taking both of their plates to put in the dishwasher, clipping and putting away the chips, and tossing their glass beer bottles into the recycling bin in the pantry. Having access to the kitchen meant having access to a dozen different kitchen knives, but she'd never be able to get one fast enough to use it. Not before he'd grabbed her, gutted her, or put a bullet in her head. After washing up, she turned to study him, eyes sliding down his bare chest again.

"Do you have something to sleep in? Or you just sleep nude?" That was always a possibility and one that couldn't help but warm her cheeks. She covered by glancing down at her wrists, rubbing them gently. The pattern where the rope had bitten into her skin was still there, though beginning to fade. The soreness in her arms was easing, as well. I really need to get back into yoga.

Tipping her head back toward the bedroom, she retreated to the lavish master suite, leaving him to lock up and make whatever measures he thought necessary to keep her secure for the night. While he was busy with that, she went to the bathroom to brush and floss.
 
"Smart." he acknowledged simply. She wasn't wrong. Just the fact that she'd stumbled upon him alone had put her life in danger. Whether or not he'd even be able to leave her alive once all of this was said and done was already a difficult decision he would ultimately have to make for himself. Her status made the idea of simply disposing of her far more problematic than it otherwise would have been, and the same would only go doubly-so for her parents.

He remained at the island bar, looking over it as he watched her clean up. Within reason, huh? And where exactly is that line? He wondered. "Underwear," he answered her without missing a beat, looking down at her wrists as she did the same. "Though I can be convinced to leave those out, as well." he prodded mockingly, leaving her with that image as she made her way out of the room.

With her gone, he spent a moment surveying the room; the cameras, the doorways, all the little nooks, and halls that led away from the primary space. With a little thought, he was confident he would be able to secure the main entrance. He'd already interrupted the camera signals for her apartment and the halls that led up to it. So redirecting those feeds would not be an incredibly daunting task, either. He knew of the emergency exit on the second-floor terrace, as well, but it would be a tough order for her to reach it without him finding and catching her in the act. Her presence was going to be bothersome, there was no doubt in his mind. It was another variable that needed to be kept under control, and a loose end that would have to be tied up in one way - or the other - before all was said and done. Neither of those thoughts pleased him. Truthfully, though, so long as he played his own cards right, he found, she should be hard-pressed to find a way out. And he was beginning to think she may have realized that, as well.

In the process of planning out his next moves, he noticed the mess that had been left behind on the floor, covered with the towel she'd lain atop it. He glanced back over his shoulder at the doorway to her room. I wonder how long before she realizes I found her phone while she was passed out. He exhaled through his nose, smiling slightly.

He wiped the floor down with the towel she'd set there, disposing of the piece of glass that had pierced her and cleaning away any major visible evidence of blood from the marble. It was far from a meticulous job, but given how squeamish she apparently had been around blood, and how hesitant she was to even so much as look at it hours after the fact, he figured she wouldn't exactly have a strong base for critiquing his method of cleaning, in that regard. Once that was done, he too turned his focus toward getting himself cleaned up and soon retired into the bedroom to join her.
 
She'd snorted at his teasing, but didn't comment. When he reached her bedroom, she'd finished her nightly routine and was pulling throw pillows from the bed and piling them on the floor. Her bedding wasn't a mass of lace and girlish pink. It was a deep blue ombré , like where the ocean met the sky. It seemed to be the theme of her room, which stood in contrast to the stark marble flooring. Her rugs were neutral, but the accents were all reminiscent of the beach, the water, and the brightness of a sunny day. Clean, crisp, and perfect. She folded down the thicker comforter. The sheets beneath were a pale blue and high thread count, making them softer than any bed in a luxury hotel. She liked her comforts and had money to spend on them. Why not indulge in the things that brought her a bit of happiness?

There were four fluffy pillows on the bed. She tossed one sideways upon the bed, left one at the head, and the other two were his to sort out. The bedside table on either side held lamps and outlets for charging devices, but she'd not yet gone looking for her phone. She'd turned it off for a reason, and didn't want to bother with it just then. From the other things on his side of the bed, it'd been clear that her boyfriend had slept there on more than one occasion. He'd left his watch behind, a diamond-accented Rolex, and a few self-care products. He had his own section in the closet, as well, and in her bathroom. While they hadn't officially been living together, he slept there more often than not, and had made himself comfortable in her house.

Sofia was already determined to clean house the following day, purging herself of all his junk and leaving it with the doorman to pick up. Her uninvited house guest proved problematic with that second part, but she'd cross that bridge when she reached it. Or perhaps not. If Brian didn't have a reason to come knocking, it'd save them both the trouble and stress. At this point, Sofia really didn't care if the assassin put a bullet in her ex-boyfriend's head. She was still unbelievably pissed.

She yawned as she climbed between the sheets and snuggled into her bed, unbound and comfortable. Head on one pillow, leg thrown over the other as she rested on her side. Despite her nap, she was still tired, but she watched him as he moved about her room. Watched to see what he'd do to contain her. Not that she'd be foolish enough to attempt escape that night. No, not yet. He was still on his guard.

"I hope you don't snore," she finally commented.
 
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