[ well he is a patient man, despite appearances and reputation, and he knows when to retreat. and when to tease, which he does now. he speaks rationally, his face devoid of smile but for the hint in his eyes. ] Excuse me for being courteous. [ he's s-so offended only not at all. ] One would assume the basic tenants of hygiene be prioritized.
You so better not be calling me unhygienic. [ she feigns indignation, her eyes narrowing again as she uses her wagging finger to poke at his chest.] I happen to be a very clean person--[ teasing still, she moves to push off his chest, trying to untangle their bodies.] Thank-you-very-much.
[ he is hers to situate, and even before she attempts, he moves himself off her by the slight nudge of her finger. as for her argument: most type-a personalities do endeavor to be clean, if not primped.
his leans on his elbow as he rolls off her, his expression predictably smarmy. ] With your attention to meticulous and exhaustive detail, I would expect no less. [ his head cocks just slightly. ] And you smell pretty.
I smell like sex-- [ she corrects him, wrinkling her nose and moving to sit up now that she is no longer in his embrace. her hands run over her arms before she starts to edge her way off the bed, stretching a little as she does.] I'm guessing you don't have a spare dress laying around here, do you? [ if he did, she might feel a tiny bit jealous.]
[ sex, yes. but also like caroline, and whatever assortment of products she has picked up to use here. he meant it as an offhand comment, but it is true: he is drawn to her scent in both a familiar and primal way. he doesn't argue, but he does watch her find her feet, still lounged unmoving from his side.
and he raises his brow at her question. and doesn't answer, instead smirking just so (and very purposefully) before getting up to stride over to his closet. he finds a soft sweater and some briefs that will do just fine and walks over to present them. ]
[ the answer is, unsurprisingly, no. he doesn't have a dress. and when he climbs off the bed with a grace she has to pretend she doesn't notice, he finds her a sweater and briefs to offer. taking them with a grateful nod, she realizes he's the reason she doesn't have anything to wear and she should probably be more cross with him.
but she isn't.
so she pulls the sweater on over her head, then steps into the briefs, looking, undoubtedly ridiculous in them both. the elastic keeps the briefs on her hips and she moves to pull her messy curls from beneath the collar of the sweater.] I look ridiculous.
[ the answer to the underlying question could be yes, but he certainly has the prerogative not to share that information, whatever she suspects. though whatever she suspects or deduces matters little to him considering he has no qualms either way: let her trust her own wits. (whether or not she has been drawn to others before him or after him, she has been drawn to him: and it means something deeper than a passing cuddle or rump.)
he watches her dress just as silently and with a serene smile, waiting for the inevitability. it happens watching the hem of his sweater hit around her thighs, his lips parting at the sight. his darkening eyes travel from her pale knees to her hips, to the peaks of her breasts caressed to small points under the garment. what she looks is beautiful, surrounded by him, marked by him, and wearing it well. his hands reach for her waist, to slip about her as he steps forward and pulls her close. just as his cock stirs and he presses his nearly flushed face to the side of hers, his voice a baritone. ] I believe your heels would complete the look.
[ she knows the cliche, about how men get turned on seeing women in their clothes. tyler used to really relish in it too. but somehow it surprises her to see such an expression on klaus's face. after a thousand years, it had to get a little boring, right?
no, it seems not. he draws her close and whispers low enough in her ear that she actually shivers, her eyes fluttering before she lets out a startled laugh.] Yes, then I'll completely stupid.
[ there are reasons for cliches. predictability doesn't preclude interest, and certainly not in the sight of caroline, swimming in his clothes. perhaps the only thing that surprises him is the ferocity of this interest, for there is little rational thought to comment on the lure of her body against his, and the shiver she makes. his hands rub long caresses over her sides, her bottom, her back, and slowly, over and over, pressing her closer with each turn. ] Or good enough to eat.
[ she scoffs softly before she glances up at him, feeling heat radiating off of him as much as she feels his desire. she pulls back to look at him, gently trying to pull herself from his embrace before it's harder to want to head home. smirking, her hands slide down his arms to grab at his hands.]
Careful, you don't want to rip your own sweater, I'm sure.
Spoken as if the plan isn't to keep it mostly on for the duration. [ he is smirking as well, the smile devilish. he lets her retreat, find his hands. they curl around hers, maneuver in such a way it is all too easy to bring them behind her back, to step gracefully against her yet again, to feel her arched to him in a way that makes him melt, just a little. his mouth presses to hers, full and sweet and heated, the last causing the kiss linger. but he pulls back, releases a hand to find her hip. ] Perhaps you should take that shower. You might be less irresistible through a wall.
[ she rolls her eyes at him, good naturedly, wanting to move to pull down the sweater more but he captured her hands to hold, pulled her towards him once again. and of course, he kissed her, so obviously trying to coax her into melting him but she remained steadfast, determined to leave eventually, soon. hopefully.
laughing a little at his words, she shakes her head.] You're impossible.
[ that seems to be her overall opinion: that he's impossible. and it is also true he is stalling, as much for the simple pleasure of it and the intention of letting her know she is still wanted, as it is opportunity. his smile grows, all amusement and wickedness, and he releases her entirely but for a pinching of the fabric of his sweater between two fingers, just at her belly button. he stretches the fabric to him, not enough to tug, but the display is surely enough to prove her point.
he raises his brow playfully. stay or go; she knows his preferences. ]
[ caroline is usually not so impulsive, but she cannot help but lean in to press a quick kiss to his lips once he releases her completely. she knows what he wants, what he'd prefer her do but she remains as steadfast as she can, trying to maneuver around him now, to go out and find her shoes to complete the ridiculous look she is sporting.]
[ he accepts the affection readily, smiling in its wake as she slips by him. he's smiling because he's pleased and at his leisure, and after such a long, satisfying afternoon. the buzz and turmoil of his churning thoughts are occupying the back of his mind in her presence, and it's genuine: the ease in his step as he follows her to the couches, picks up his phone as she searches away, and calls the company in answer. ]
Yes, I need a car in the North District... [ and while he's over there, he might as well find his pants. ]
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his leans on his elbow as he rolls off her, his expression predictably smarmy. ] With your attention to meticulous and exhaustive detail, I would expect no less. [ his head cocks just slightly. ] And you smell pretty.
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and he raises his brow at her question. and doesn't answer, instead smirking just so (and very purposefully) before getting up to stride over to his closet. he finds a soft sweater and some briefs that will do just fine and walks over to present them. ]
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but she isn't.
so she pulls the sweater on over her head, then steps into the briefs, looking, undoubtedly ridiculous in them both. the elastic keeps the briefs on her hips and she moves to pull her messy curls from beneath the collar of the sweater.] I look ridiculous.
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he watches her dress just as silently and with a serene smile, waiting for the inevitability. it happens watching the hem of his sweater hit around her thighs, his lips parting at the sight. his darkening eyes travel from her pale knees to her hips, to the peaks of her breasts caressed to small points under the garment. what she looks is beautiful, surrounded by him, marked by him, and wearing it well. his hands reach for her waist, to slip about her as he steps forward and pulls her close. just as his cock stirs and he presses his nearly flushed face to the side of hers, his voice a baritone. ] I believe your heels would complete the look.
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no, it seems not. he draws her close and whispers low enough in her ear that she actually shivers, her eyes fluttering before she lets out a startled laugh.] Yes, then I'll completely stupid.
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Careful, you don't want to rip your own sweater, I'm sure.
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laughing a little at his words, she shakes her head.] You're impossible.
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he raises his brow playfully. stay or go; she knows his preferences. ]
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Do you know the number to the cab company?
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Yes, I need a car in the North District... [ and while he's over there, he might as well find his pants. ]