More Than Darkness

See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer and Author's Notes.

Chapter 2

Salida did her best to keep her hair out of her eyes as Jeffrey rolled down his window. Once she could see unhindered, she asked, "So where are we off to? Straight to your hotel, or somewhere else?"

"Well, I was planning on heading back to my hotel, but I'm not a complete asshole. If you'd like to get some dinner first, I'm feeling generous."

"Yeah, especially since you didn't pay for our drinks, you cheap bastard," Salida's words were cold, but she was smirking. "Don't think I didn't catch that."

Jeffrey just shrugged.

Dinner. That could be interesting. And it would be nice to let him stew for awhile. "Well, since it looks like I'm going to be engaging in some rather strenuous activity in the near future, it might be a good idea to get a bite. You wouldn't want me to collapse halfway through the evening because I was famished, would you?" She attempted to look innocent and pitiful, sticking her bottom lip out slightly. Unfortunately, they were stopped at a stoplight, which meant Jeffrey had time to lean over and kiss her quickly, but with enough strength to make her gasp.

That'll teach her, he thought as he heard her gasp. Why the fuck did I have to suggest dinner? This has got to be Sands' fault somehow. Me and my fucking big mouth. "Fine, dinner it is then," he said, forcing down a sigh. "Anywhere in particular you'd like to go? I've got all of Sands' credit cards, so the sky's the fucking limit tonight."

"No, anyplace you want to go is fine. I seem to just be along for the ride tonight." Not that there would be another night . . . which was unfortunate. So unfortunate that Salida blinked and turned her head to look out the window. She was having fun, that was enough. She really needed to remember to live in the moment. People like her - if she was a person - didn't get more than that.

"Let's go back to the cage, Pinky." Salida liked cartoons and talked Tess into watching them when she could.

"To do what, Brain?" Pinky and the Brain was one of her favorites.

"What we do every night, Pinky."

"Try to take over the world," she muttered to the passing cars, sighing in dissatisfaction.

Jeffrey threw a glance at his passenger, before changing lanes suddenly enough to make the person in back of him honk in agitation. He flipped the other man the bird while asking Salida, "Do I need to add megalomania to the list of mental illnesses between the two of us?"

Salida shook her head, pasting a smile on her face before looking at him. "Only on the most personal level. One man at a time, as it were." She winked and blew him a kiss. I don't suppose you'd like to give in before I have to get the big guns out, would you?"

"I've already got my big gun," Jeffrey said with a smirk. "I'm sure the fucking hotel that Sands' has got us staying in has a restaurant, or five. And it'll be nice to have my room on hand should we decide to have desert elsewhere."

"Sounds like a plan." Putting her discontent out of her head, Salida rested her head against the back of her seat and asked, "How fast do you think you can get us there?"

***********

Salida paused just behind Jeffrey as they entered the lobby of the hotel he was staying at. The place of enormous, scarce on people, but filled with echoes at this time of night. It was going on ten now, and while that wasn't late, the lack of hustle and bustle made it seem that way. Jeffrey noticed she wasn't beside him, and turned to look at her. She just smiled distractedly, looking around at the high ceilings, marble floors and walls, and tried to block out the echoes.

"It's like a fucking tomb at this time of night isn't it? I don't like it. I'd rather it be filled with people than like this. It's fucking creepy," he admitted, looking around the large room. "Sands' apartment building is the same way. I think he chooses places that get like this to experience the solitude he can't get within his own head. And God, I sound like fucking sap. Let's go get something to eat before I make a fucking fool of myself." He paused in thought. "Fuck, I said that last bit out loud, didn't I? I guess it's too fucking late about the 'making myself look like a fool,' huh? I guess I'm not quite used to hearing my own voice aloud for a change. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah." Looking around with more discomfort, she said, "As much as I hate people at times, I think I need to get out of here. There's too much inspiration for the other little usupers in Tessa's head. Someplace that doesn't echo so much seems like a good idea at the moment." Despite her words, Salida didn't move from her spot, her eyes still moving around the lobby in a muted display of paranoia.

"Fuck, I don't want to even think about that. The two of us is plenty, thank you very fucking much. Let's go get something to eat. How about steak? I'm in the mood for something bloody that I can sink my teeth into," he said with a smirk, starting to head in the direction of one of the restaurants that he knew served steak within the hotel. He paused a moment as he noticed Salida wasn't behind him. "Salida?" he asked, turning around to look at her. "You coming?"

She turned to him as if surprised that he was speaking to her, then took a minute to process what he'd just said. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm coming." She slowly walked to his side, pausing again when she reached it. Looking around to make sure she wasn't about to be overheard, she said, "Although it's not very kind of you to make me take care of that. I thought it was your job to make sure I came."

Jeffrey let out a short bark of genuine laughter at that. "Forgive me, my lady," he said with a mock bow. "I would say that my life is yours, but I'm afraid you might take that a bit too literally, so I'll refrain. And don't you worry your pretty little head, sugarbutt. I'll have you coming until both of our respective other half's wake up as it were and wonder what the fuck is going on. It'll be fucking hilarious. But you wanted dinner so its dinner you're getting. Let's go." He led the way with her walking closely by his side to the Smith & Wollensky within the hotel, walking up to the maitre d's station.

"Can I help you sir?" the maitre d, a stuff-looking man dressed in a tuxedo asked.

"Two, in smoking," Jeffrey said, not caring to ask whether or not Salida smoked. Since she, or rather her other half, was a doctor-in-training, it wasn't likely, but he didn't care. He needed a fucking cigarette.

"There's a 30 minute wait sir," the maitre d' said stiffly.

Jeffrey rolled his eyes, and had to fight down an urge to throttle the man. Instead, he reached over and handed the man a 50 dollar bill from Sands' wallet. "Will this be enough to get us a seat right now?"

The maitre d' looked at the bill in distaste for a mere moment before pocketing it and motioning another person over. "Seat these two in," he checked his book, "Table number 36." With that, he and Salida crossed the restaurant to their table.

When they arrived, Salida was more than pleased that their table was in a back corner, sitting in the midst of a pool of shadows. This was about as private as things could get. She sat in the seat the waiter pulled out for her, waiting until the man had set their menus down and departed, before scooting her chair a bit closer to Jeffrey's. "Fifty bucks buys a lot more than I thought it would," she mentioned, watching as Jeffrey pulled out a cigarette and lit it with the candle that was burning on the table.

Salida found herself staring at Jeffrey in the much the same way she observed discretions from inside Tess. Something had put him in a bad mood rather quickly. "Can I ask what's got you upset? Or should I simply keep my mouth shut?"

Jeffrey took another deep pull from his cigarette, thinking about what she had just asked him. "I don't fucking know sometimes, to tell you the truth. Sometimes I just feel an urge to kill someone. I told you I was psychotic. I wasn't lying. And it doesn't help matters that Sands' is a fucking sociopathic either. Although there's not much difference between the two. But don't worry. I'll be as cheery as a fucking daisy throughout the rest of the meal, savvy?"

"Well, I was just wondering if there was anything I could do to take your mind off it for a bit. It seems like it might be in my best interest." Salida was only half joking; she had no intention of ending up dead tonight. She'd fought too hard for that. "I bet I can come up with a topic of conversation that would take your mind off your current preoccupation."

"Oh?" Jeffrey asked with a lift of an eyebrow, snubbing the butt of his cigarette in the ashtray on the table before sticking another in his mouth, leaning over the candle's flame once more to light it, being careful to not catch his long hair on fire. That would certainly drive him straight into homicidal mania, of that, there was no doubt. "Well let's hear it then. I'm in the mood for distraction."

"All right then . . ." she waited until their waiter had brought them water, and taken their orders - steak for Sands, lemon-grilled chicken for her - before asking, "What do you think my ideal sexual encounter would be like?" She saw a smirk come over his face, and mentally gave a sigh of relief. "Include any fetishes or secret fantasies you think I might have, and then I'll do the same for you." She took a sip of her ice water. "And then, if we still have any food - or the self-control to linger - you can tell me exactly what you're planning to do to me once we leave the restaurant. How does that sound?"

For a moment all he could do was sit and stare at her in dumbfounded shock. "Nice distraction," he muttered under his breath. Holy fuck! he thought to himself before speaking. "I think you'd like to be in control. You're a man-eater, I can tell, and your "other" keeps you on a tight leash. I think you'd like to be in control for a change, and I supposed I could be convinced to let you. For a few rounds at least," he said with a smirk. "As for fetishes? I'm envisioning a delightful mixture of leather and silk, me tied to the bed and screaming for more, you riding me mercifully at full gallop not giving it." He paused a bit to take a deep breath, his pants growing even tighter at that envisioned image. "Of course, it could just be the sexual deviant talking here," the smirk on his face turned wicked. He took another drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out slowly through his nose, not taking his eyes off of hers.

"I've left you speechless. A good start to the evening's entertainments," Jeffrey acknowledged with a smirk. "And that's only in talking about it, my little vixen. Just wait til the actual doing. I bet I can make your voice return then," Jeffrey said with a swell of purely masculine pride.

That comment brought Salida back from the movie that was playing in her head. She still couldn't shake the effect that Jeffrey's words had had on her. Words were often all she had, and she found that his voice and tone and words were arousing her more than the sight of his body did. Swallowing hard, she took another sip of water to wet her suddenly dry mouth before commenting randomly, "I don't think I'm wearing the right intimate wear for this." She looked down at her clothing. "I'm not even sure I'm wearing the right thing for the restaurant."

Jeffrey looked at the watch at his wrist and shrugged. I'm willing to do a little shopping if you are," he said with a wink. "As for what you're wearing? The only reason I'm wearing this," he gestured to his tight black pants and red silk dress shirt, "is because it's what Sands wears. Actually he prefers all black, the monochromatic bastard," he muttered under his breath. "I had to fight for the red. And even then, I'd rather be wearing a pair of jeans and a crude t-shirt if it were up to me. But it's fucking not. So it doesn't matter to me what you're wearing. Go naked for all I care," Jeffrey gave her a wry look over his glass as he took a sip of water. "But you'd better not now, here's our food. Wait until afterwards," he said, setting his cigarette in the ashtray as his bloody rare filet mignon was placed in front of him, her lemon-grilled chicken placed in front of her.

Tess eyed the blood on his plate, shook her head, and cut daintily into her own food. "I don't think it's a matter of what I'm wearing, as much as it is that I now have this image of what you'd like me to be wearing." She tasted the chicken, pleased to find that it wasn't overdone, but was still juicy. "And I suppose that brings me to my part of our little conversation."

Jeffrey watched as she cut another piece, her cuts the precise movements of a surgeon. She looked at him for several moments before opening her mouth to speak again, clearly ordering her thoughts. "Well, from your vocabulary, I'd say that you're not a man who gets off by treating women gently. You like a woman who can keep up with you, who isn't afraid of mixing a bit of pain with her pleasure . . . but I also get the feeling that you like to be in control. She'd be dressed entirely in red - although, sexual deviant that you seem to be - you'd probably want her in something crotch less." Part of her was amazed that she was even doing this, much less that she was managing to do it with all the objectiveness of a doctor explaining a medical procedure. "And manipulator that you are, you'd probably like her to think she's got some sort of control before ripping that illusion away. And then, yes, you like to fuck. You like your sex hot, fast, sweaty, noisy, and perhaps with more than a simple 'little death' at the end - although I hope that's not the case tonight."

Jeffrey sat calmly as he listened to her describe his sexual habits as if she were reading a page out of a medical textbook, every so often taking a bit of his rapidly diminishing steak. "All that, you say? Well fuck me. Have we met before? You seem to know me better than Sands does," he said with a wink. "Red is my favorite color, I won't deny it," he said, taking a piece of bread from the table and rolling it around in the blood and juices of the steak before eating it, missing Salida's slight grimace. "I wouldn't necessarily say that I'm a master manipulator, per se, but you're right about my love in being in control. I'll take my sex any way you're giving it, sugarbutt, i.e. "all of the above," and as for something more than a 'little death?' I wouldn't worry about that. I'm not quite psychotic enough to kill someone who intrigues me. I do have some restraint, whether you believe it or not. And you fucking have me hooked, Salida."

Salida, despite all her self-discipline and skill at hiding her emotions, blushed. Not just a dim glow, but a fiery red that even Jeffrey could see. She tilted her head to hide her face, softly commenting, "Golly, and here I was thinking that only psychiatrists and psychoanalysts found me interesting." The room was steadily growing warmer, and she found herself grateful that she'd taken off her jacket earlier; if she'd had to remove it now, it would have been a dead giveaway to what she was thinking.

The waiter came by to replenish their water glasses, giving Salida the time she needed to collect herself.

"Of course you're fucking interesting!" Jeffrey said with a roll of his eyes. "I won't bandy words with you, if you couldn't hold your own against me round for round like you have, I'd have either sent you packing-there are other less complicated women out there-or killed you," he said with a shrug. "But now, not only do I not want to kill you, which is such a new concept for me it's got my head spinning, but you've got me so fucking wound up that I'd fuck you right here in the restaurant if you'd let me. So how's that for interested?" he said, finishing his meal and lighting another cigarette, spitting out a bit of loose tobacco between his pursed lips onto the floor.

There were so many responses for that, but none that she could safely make. Instead she swiped his cigarette for a moment, talking a deep draw on it, keeping her eyes locked on his. Exhaling slowly, she murmured, "Looks like you're rubbing off on me."

Things were silent for several seconds while Salida pondered the fix she was in; she'd gone out for a cup of coffee, and had ended up meeting someone who was a good match for her . . . not that it'd last. Which was really too bad. Even with constant company, she got lonely because Tess didn't understand her. Jeffrey did. Get over it, she told herself. That's how the cookie crumbles.

Having composed herself, she looked back to her companion. "So, in the mood for more discussion? Or are we simply going to move on to body language? I'll be honest with you and tell you that your voice is a rather large turn-on for me. And I had a thought. You mentioned something earlier about being an exhibitionist." She looked around. "There seems to be a surplus of waiters around here. Why don't you have one of them go buy me something more comfortable to wear - you can tell him exactly what you want and I won't listen - we'll stay here and finish our conversation, and when he gets back, we can go upstairs? How does that sound for a plan?"

"Sounds pretty fucking good to me, vixen," he purred, the sight of her sitting there smoking the cigarette she had taken from his mouth turning him on. He turned his eyes to the room around him and caught one of the waiters buzzing around the place like bees on speed who looked like he wouldn't fucking fold on him when asked to get what he had in mind, and motioned him over.

"Can I help you sir?" the man asked, standing at their table.

Jeffrey looked him up and down before deciding that he had made a good choice. "Come here for a moment, I want to speak in your ear and I don't want my companion to hear, savvy?" He cast a glance to Salida who was watching the display, an amused look on her face.

"Alright sir," the waiter leaned over and Jeffrey whispered intentions into his ear before reaching into his wallet and handing him a handful of bills. The waiter cast a glance at Salida and then back to Jeffrey. "You lucky bastard," he muttered under his breath, before turning to complete Jeffrey's errand, laughing softly to himself.

Salida actually chuckled at the man's comment. "I'm not sure he was talking to you or to me," she said wryly, moving her chair over another few inches, snuffing out the cigarette she'd been unconsciously smoking.

Jeffrey crinkled up his nose in distaste at her comment, a look that Salida found somehow endearing coming from a quick-tongued psychopath. "So, what shall we talk about now while I wait for my...delivery?" he asked with a smirk, taking a drag on his cigarette.

"Well, I believe I asked to hear exactly what you were planning on doing to me for the next several hours. In explicit detail. But I'd settle for hearing something else." She cautiously reached out and traced a light pattern on the back of his hand, unsure whether he wanted to be touched or not, but needing to do something. They only had so many hours together. "It's up to you. I'm flexible. Literally and figuratively." She watched to see if he would catch her drift, thinking that perhaps he'd caught on, but not entirely sure. She didn't elaborate, but waited for him to make the next move. It wasn't as if she had a surplus of experience in this arena. She just talked a good game.

While Jeffrey didn't want to admit it to himself, he was more than willing to spend the next few minutes marveling on the sensation of her finger tracing mysterious patterns on the back of his hand. Before he could make some pathetic comment about it, he spit out a quip, his first line of defense, "Flexible, you say? Well golly, I'd be stupid of me not to test that out for myself, wouldn't it? As for what I'm going to you, in explicit detail, that's this," he snubbed his cigarette in the ash tray and didn't light another one as he looked directly at her. "First, I'm going to wait for my, excuse me, your present to arrive, and then I'm going to take you upstairs, not letting you see what it is until you've already opened it, intending to put it on. Then, since you're fucking right about me liking to be in control, I'll be the one tying you to the bed, teasing you as mercifully as you have been with your comments all night, and have you begging for me," he paused to stoke his chin in thought. "It'd be interesting to see if you're a screamer or not. I'm betting you are," he said with a smirk, "and I'm more than willing to test that bet. And when you think you're about to pass out from the exquisite torture of desire, only then will I give in, and I have a feeling it will be a moment to remember. For both of us. And that will only be the first round. Who wants to waste what little time we may have together with sleep? I certainly don't fucking want to."

More than a little breathlessly, Salida commented, "That's probably a good idea. No sleep that is. There's no telling who you might wake up with." It was a challenge not to climb on Jeffrey's lap right then and start making out, but Salida managed to control herself, although she did cross her legs rather tightly. "I hope you've taken my delicate skin into consideration. Or her delicate skin. I can talk her into ignoring a few bruises, but green bracelets around both her wrists might be a little hard. Even for me."

Inwardly she was thinking, Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god.

"Fuck, I had forgotten the waking up with another person part. It goes for you too, don't forget. And I don't find I like the idea of sharing you with that bastard Sands," Jeffrey said, clenching his hand into a fist tightly before releasing it, a vein popping out in his forehead for a brief second before he got himself under control again. "And about your, or her rather, delicate skin, don't worry vixen. I've already thought of that. Now if only that fucking waiter would get back, the real fun would begin." Wishing it didn't make it so, however, and the waiter was no where to be seen. Jeffrey sighed.

Salida agreed, wishing someone had included directions - or a rather large tip - if the waiter made this errand as speedy as possible. "Well, we've got some time to kill yet. I suppose you could ask me something if you wanted. Or I could ask another question." Out of habit, she reached out and played with some of the hot wax that was leaking from the candle at the center of the small table, her fingers darting close to the flame as she waited for Jeffrey to pick up the conversation again.

"Like playing with fire do we?" he commented on her fascination with the flame and the melted wax. "I've always thought fire was rather beautiful, actually. And smack me if I start sounding like one of the pathetic poets from the cafe tonight, but I've always thought it cleansing somehow. Beautiful destruction. It appeals to me," he said, running a hand through the flame slowly then looking down at his palm as if he expected to see a scorch mark there like in cartoons. What's your 'other' like? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I'm just curious. And yes, I'm aware what curiosity does, and don't call me kitty," he said narrowing his eyes in mock anger.

Salida laughed, and ran a hand through her hair, taking a deep breath and considering his question. She didn't mind talking about Tess - it was as natural as talking about a twin that just happened to share your body. "Tess, in a word, is repressed. She's uptight, she doesn't indulge in any way because she's scared of me, but she's scared of a lot of other things too. I suppose I understand, considering her upbringing, but it's so boring . . .day in and day out doing exactly what's expected of her." She looked at Jeffrey and laughed, a bit bitterly, "She's one of those women who you can just see growing into the old lady who lives alone at the end of the block, who's house scares small children, and who owns about fifty cats and talks to herself. Except she wouldn't be talking to herself, she'd be talking to me." Salida noticed that her hands were trembling, so she tucked them in her lap. "She's a good kid. She wants to live her own life, but doesn't know how to. And she won't listen to my advice."

"Fuck," Jeffrey whispered, for the first time in his existence feeling somewhat thankful for Sands. To go through life like that... he thought to himself with a small shudder. "I guess I consider myself lucky then. Sands, while he may not like me, tolerates me and at least listens to what I say if not follow it. I don't know where he'd be without me. Probably in some kind of fucking institution somewhere, raving at the walls. He didn't really need my help to get how he was. I just gave him that last...push. Although, I could be wrong. It's been known to happen every once and awhile. I'd try and talk to Tess, was it?" he waited for Salida to nod before continuing, "to get her try and understand where you're coming from, but that would probably scare her, wouldn't it. I've always detested the old adage "can't we all just get along?" but for schizophrenics it's more accurate. If Sands I didn't at co-exist in harmony, imperfect harmony, but harmony nonetheless, we would tear each other apart and we both know it. Maybe we could get Tess to come to believe the same?" he thought with a frown, not liking how he was feeling. He was beginning to care for this woman beyond what happened tonight, and that couldn't happen. He wasn't supposed to care. Was he? Fuck, he wasn't so sure any longer.

Salida smiled sadly. "Cool your jets, hot stuff. I appreciate the sentiment, but it won't happen. She's been raised with the belief that she needs to be absolutely perfect if she's going to have any worth at all. I represent nothing but failure to her. One of us needs to be in control, and maybe one day it'll be me. I'm getting closer. I'm here, aren't I? Years ago it I wouldn't have been." She patted his hand, and turned her face away. "Well, now that I've apparently depressed us both beyond imagining . . ."

"Well I know something that will make us both feel a hell of a lot better," Jeffrey said, inclining his chin in the direction of the door. "Behold, the return of the missing waiter. What do you say I pay and we get the hell out of here?" Jeffrey said with a smirk, accepting a black bag from the waiter and handing him another bill. He then rose from his seat, and through down enough cash for the bill and tip onto the table and offered Salida his hand to help her up. He could be a gentleman when he wanted to. Sometimes. On the way out he turned back to the waiter and thanked him heartily before turning to go, the waiter's eyes following the pair's every move. The man then sighed to himself and went back to work.

Salida wasn't quite sure about how she was supposed to act. Despite all the cheap romance novels and the occasional porn movie - yes, she was a terrible influence - she'd never dared do this before. But she was sure she could make sure Tess didn't wake, and she wanted this night. Perhaps the only one she'd ever get. Jeffrey had quickly let go of her hand, but it'd only moved to the small of her back and slipped under the short hem of her camisole top. She could feel slight calluses on the tips of his fingers and she shivered slightly, murmuring something about how she was cold, hoping that excuse would pass scrutiny. It's not bloody likely, but it's not like I've got anything to lose.

They soon reached the elevator after passing through the cavernous lobby. She hadn't even noticed the echoes this time, having been so pleasantly distracted. They didn't have to wait long for an elevator, and Jeffrey quickly ushered her in, hitting the 'close' button before anyone could join them.

The elevator door slid shut, and Jeffrey pressed Salida against one of the walls. It was a long way up to the top floor where Sands' suite was, and he planned to make the most of it. Stroking her naked back gently underneath her shirt with one hand, he captured her mouth with his in a searing kiss, putting all the passion he currently felt into it, and he was rewarded when she gasped, and her hands moved to stroke his own back. He took advantage of the gasp and slipped his tongue into her mouth and their tongues began warring for dominance, each of them gaining and losing the preverbal high ground time and time again. Jeffrey moved his other hand to her chest and began caressing a nipple through her thin shirt in delicate circles.

Deciding now was as good a time as any to show her hand - since he planned on being in control for at least the first part of the night - Salida quickly reversed their positions, slamming him back against the wall, her hands grabbing his and squeezing hard. She wasn't going to last long if he continued his teasing, and she didn't necessarily want to suffer any longer than she had to. He growled and fought to break her hold, but she just squeezed tighter, yielding when he turned them again. As she was pressed into the wall by his rapidly hardening body, she rose up on her toes, trying to get some leverage to rub her body against his. She'd been playing with fire earlier, but it was nothing like this. Her entire body, ever inch of her skin burned like she had a really bad rash. She itched for the feeling of his weight on hers, and moaned when he forced a leg between hers, finally giving up on the kiss and letting him do as he pleased.

God, Jeffrey thought he was going to lose it when she had switched positions on him, flattening him against the wall like she had. And the look in her eyes, pure determination and passion combining into something indefinable, he was a bit angry for himself at letting the growl slip from the incredibly tight rein he had on his control right now, but he hadn't been able to help it. I bet she probably liked it too, the little vixen, he thought to himself, reclaiming her mouth in a kiss, his leg forced between her own, bringing them even closer. He could feel the warmth emanating from her skin, so this time didn't tease. When she had rubbed herself against him he had nearly through caution to the wind and taken her right then and there on the elevator floor, so he knew she must be feeling something of the same. And he was fucking determined to get into the hotel room for God's sake. Fortunately, they were both saved further torture when the elevator dinged to announce their floor and the door opened slowly to reveal an old woman in a walker who took in their positions, rapid breathing and flushed faces and turned and went to one of the other elevators without a word.

Jeffrey grabbed Salida's hand and practically dragged her out of the elevator and to Sands' front door, frantically digging into the pocket of his pants for the key card which he slammed into the lock and wrenched the unlocked door open, entering the suite.

Salida expected Jeffrey to start up his seduction again - if seduction was the right word, and she was relatively sure it wasn't - but he didn't. He stood in the dark of the living area, staring at her as he tried to catch his breath. She took the opportunity to do the same, fighting not to pant as she simply stood in front of him, waiting for some sort of instruction. Instruction that came when he thrust the bag he was somehow still holding at her.

She took it, and looked around, wondering where she was supposed to change, jumping when he spoke to her. "I want to see you open your present." His voice was rough, low, demanding, and still a bit breathless.

She shivered, but nodded, opening the bag.

Salida reached into the bag and pulled out a deep red, the same red of his shirt, she noticed, scrap of lingerie, which was revealing but surprisingly tasteful. She raised an eyebrow at him but he only shrugged and said, "It's red, which I like, and it's not like it's going to be on you for very long, which I also like."

Salida just shook her head and felt that the bag still had some weight in it. She looked in it and couldn't help but gasp. "Dear God, what did you have that man do? Buy out an S&M store?"

"Well, I told him to pick out a few "fun" things, leaving it to his discretion. I actually have no idea just what he got. I just told him nothing too overt, and nothing that would leave too many marks in the morning," he said with a wink.

With a bit of misgiving, Salida took the lingerie, and handed the bag back to Jeffrey. "I assume you'll be wanting these?"

"Not as much as I want you." He winked at her, his eyes moving over her frame, undressing her where she stood.

She endured a few moments of that, before murmuring, "I'll just go change then."

Before he could object, Salida went down the short hallway and entered the bathroom, locking the door behind her, making no attempt to muffle the noise. Then, with just a few second thoughts, she stripped off her top and her jeans, looking doubtfully at her panties. Tess didn't buy expensive underwear, and these were starting to look a bit on the ratty side . . . not a look that went well with the handful of practically sheer silk and lace she held. With a shrug of her shoulders, she shucked the underwear and dropped the lingerie over her head.

Turning to look in the mirror, she took in her appearance. All the workouts and Tessa's limited diet had been for some good after all - Salida was suddenly grateful for that. The deep red color brought out the darker color of her skin, the neckline of the sheathe dipped precariously between her breasts while still keeping everything covered - or at least veiled - and the hem stopped mid-thigh. It was almost modest when compared to some things that could have been chosen for her, and she was grateful for that as well.

The only thing that she was dissatisfied with was her hair. It looked rather windblown from the ride to the hotel. Looking around the rather luxurious bathroom, she spotted a brush lying on the counter. She picked it up and ran it through her hair, smiling as it shown in the lights. Then she grabbed a washcloth and ran it under some warm water, washing the light cover of make-up off her face. She did a last minute check of her breath, before leaving the room.

She looked up and down the hallway, trying to discover where Jeffrey had gotten to. There was a glow in the living area from a lamp, but there was also a glow coming from what she thought was the bedroom. "Jeffrey?"

Jeffrey had stood there for a long moment after she had left, feeling pissed off and frustrated. But he thought understood why she had left, so his anger had dissipated without a word, leaving him feeling frustrated beyond belief. He heard his name being called softly and called back, "I'm in here!" He was glad he had had the foresight to ask the waiter to pick up a few candles while he was out. He had scattered them randomly around the room after dismantling the smoke detector, using his lighter to light them quickly and efficiently in the little time he had before Salida returned. He was lighting the last of them when she entered the room with a gasp.

"How?" she managed to ask, her voice soft as not to spoil the mood the candles created. Jeffrey turned to the sound of her voice and nearly dropped his lighter upon seeing her, his mouth drying to the point where speech was an impossibility.

He took a deep breath, set his lighter back on a nearby table, and cleared his throat before speaking. "You didn't check the entire bag. If you had, you might have noticed the wealth of candles in the bottom. What can I say? I guess there's a bit of a sappy romantic in me after all," he said, trying to sound nonchalant when in fact he was about an inch away from ripping his own clothes off and ravishing her long into the night.

Salida noticed the way he was staring at her, and bit a lip, looking at the floor for a moment before regaining her equilibrium. She wasn't going to act like a wallflower, and she wasn't going to hide behind her hair. Her confidence and her mouth had gotten her into this, and unless she wanted to admit to almost criminal amounts of bravado, she needed to remember where her spine was. "Don't tell me you're going to make me call you 'master,' but cause that's only going to happen in your dreams." She raised her face, making sure she didn't make the words sound like a challenge, because that really was something that would never happen, and she didn't want to frustrate the both of them.

"Now there's a thought," Jeffrey muttered to himself. "No, I wouldn't make you do that. In fact, nothing will happen here except straight sex, if that's what you want. I'll admit I don't even know what some of that stuff our helpful waiter got for us is for, and I'm not entirely sure I want to. Well, at least not with someone who didn't trust me completely. And you don't, do you?" he didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "Smart girl. Either way my crafty little vixen, but whatever you choose, make it soon or I think I will spontaneously combust," he said with a short laugh, not entirely joking.

Salida looked at him consideringly for several moments, her head tilted to one side and her eyes unreadable. Inside she was melting, his willingness to go along with what she wanted was something she'd never really experienced before.

"Do you promise not to try to kill me?" He rolled his eyes, but nodded. Nodding her head in response, Salida took a deep breath, and went and rummaged through the bag, pulling out two silk scarves. She held them out to him and murmured, "We should be safe with these." Meeting his eyes, she said, "I stand by my bets."

"That's good to know," Jeffrey smirked, unbelievably pleased she had chosen something from the bag. He walked across the room to her, stopping in front of her and delighting in the feeling of running his hands over her silk and lace covered form.

"You seem to be a little over dressed," Salida said, handing him the scarves.

"Would you like me to do something about it, my little vixen? Or would you?" he asked, holding the scarves in one hand.

"Well, I think the entire point of tonight was what you wanted . . . unless this is the point where you make me think I have some control?"

Jeffrey looked from her, to the scarves in his hands, and back to her again, debating. While it was true he did love being in control, some part of him was screaming to give it over to her, at least for a little while. He wanted to see her above him, her hair slicked back with sweat, moving up and down on him furiously, and that image alone was enough to make him consider. "I'm willing to compromise," he said, handing her the scarves. "I'm even willing to give up some of my control for a little while. But if I decide to change my mind at the last second, I'll let you know. Can you dig it? That way, you get your control, I get mine."

Salida blinked at him for a moment, and fought to keep from pouting. She'd almost been looking forward to him tying her to the bed and then making her squirm. However, the chance to get him out of his clothes was too good to pass up. And who knows? If I'm too aggressive, he may still follow through.

Setting the scarves on the bedside table, within easy reach of either of them, Salida ran a finger down the front of Jeffrey's shirt, noticing his shiver. The shirt was untucked, and while she could simply unbutton it . . . that didn't hold the appeal that other options did.

"Hold on to your hat, junior," she muttered, right before ripping his shirt open. The sound of scattering buttons reminded her of rain, but she ignored it, watching as the still buttoned cuffs trapped Jeffrey's hands at his sides. With a rather evil smirk, she shoved on his shoulders, watching as he fell back on the bed, wrestling to free his hands.

Before he could, however, she was on him, her lips ruthlessly coming down on his. She sucked, nipped, bit, and teased, all while keeping most of her body from touching his. Maybe if I goad him enough . . . . Her lips abruptly left his, traveling to his ear, and biting the lobe there before she whispered, "I thought you were going to make me pay for teasing you, Jeffrey, and yet, you're giving me the chance to do exactly that."

She straightened, and found his arousal with her hands, pressing down just hard enough to make him gape. "I thought you were going to make me scream." She moved her hand and straddled his hips, moving with him as he bucked, trying to get closer to her and trying to free his hands. "Are you all talk, Jeffrey?"

"Why you dirty little vixen," Jeffrey said, finally managing to free his hands and flip her over so he was kneeling in between her spread legs. "I do not like my games being turned around on me, savvy? That was a dirty little trick, but you should be happy to know that it worked," he said with a shake of his head, grabbing the scarves in one hand, her wrists in another. "I'm going to enjoy making you pay for that," he growled, his voice thick with arousal as he single-handedly tied both of her wrists securely to the wide headboard. Once she was tied fast, he removed the last scraps of his shirt, looking at them in his hands. He had liked the shirt, but it had met a decent end. He threw the torn shirt over the edge of the bed and leaned over her, his arousal pressing firmly on her stomach. Bracing himself on his hands on either side of her, he used his nose to move aside the top of her lingerie, kissing the bare skin as it was exposed, causing Salida to gasp as he went.

Salida's eyes screwed shut as the itch of arousal she'd been feeling earlier erupted into flame on her skin and in her belly, her head suddenly lightheaded and her lungs frozen. She had to grin because her plan had worked, and she wasn't dead or injured, and Jeffrey was, oh god, he was planting the lightest kisses she could imagine over her skin. It was just enough to fuel the flames, but not enough to give her any relief. She couldn't help it. Hating herself for it, she arched her back as she cried out, desperate for more.

Hearing Salida cry out only emboldened Jeffrey more as he continued to cover every inch of skin that he could find with light kisses, circling around her breast as if her nipple were the center of a target, and he had notoriously bad aim. He knew what she wanted of him and he wasn't going to give it to her. She had asked for this, and now she was getting what she deserved. He wanted to see her squirm. He wanted to see her writhe beneath him, and only then, when he'd decided she'd paid enough, would he give in to her. He looked up from his kissing with a smirk to see that she was pulling at her bound wrists. He was lucky they were of the softest silk money could buy, or she'd create her own bruises on her wrists with no help from him. He then lifted the hem of her lingerie up and began to continue his kissing exploration over the rest of her body, each kiss being the like the gentle flap of butterfly wings on her warm body.

"Por Dios!" Salida gasped, her eyes shut so tightly that sparks of color were floating across her vision. "Tu es malo," she groaned, trying to pull her legs up to her chest and turn on her side, anything to escape the torture she'd asked for. Jeffrey didn't let her, his hands roughly grabbing her legs and pinning them to the bed.

"What was that, vixen? I'm sorry, I don't speak Spanish," Jeffrey said with a smirk, lying through his teeth before continuing to lay gentle kisses between her breasts, on her stomach, moving lower and lower with a snail's pace. As a matter of fact he and Sands both spoke quite a few languages, but he didn't want her to know that. And it was more fun for him to have her explain her words as if he didn't understand; one more bit of torture.

"Bite me," she said with a bit of heat. "That's a load of crap. You knew my name meant sunrise -" She cried out as he indeed bit her, retaliation for her comment.

"Naughty, vixen. You must watch your language." Jeffrey placed a gentle kiss over the small bite, sucking on it, and generally lavishing attention on it until she shifted, either in discomfort or need - he'd take either one. "Now, let's pretend I can't think that much when all my blood is in my groin. What did you just say?"

"I said you're evil," she murmured as his hands started stroking up and down the length of her legs. Raising her head a bit, she looked down into his face and asked, "Talk to me?"

"My clever little vixen," he said with a smirk. "Do you have any idea how much this turns me on? To see your body trying to shy away from the exquisite torture I'm lavishing upon it? To see you writhe beneath me, completely in my control? You are correct," he said with another barrage of kisses. "I do like being in control. In fact, I love it. I would love to make you scream, to through caution and propriety to the wind and scream my name begging me for more. I would love to see you come by the urging of my gentle kisses alone. I want to see your eyes hazed in a thick curtain desire as you stare longingly at me, your breath coming in quick gasps, your body radiating heat like a star. I want to see you pull at your bonds, unable to get free until I choose to let you go. How about that, my vixen?" he said, laying more kisses even more slowly than before on her heated body. "Was that enough talk? Mis listos poco vixen. Mis hermosos poco vixen."

My clever little vixen. My beautiful little vixen. She nodded weakly, hearing his words run through her head like a broken record. He was so close to getting his wish. She cried out when he nipped at her belly button, barely biting back impassioned pleas. She could do this, she could wait him out, or at least last longer than this . . . .

"I didn't hear you, vixen. Was that enough talk?"

Shaking her head, trying to clear some space for speech amidst the tangled sensations of pleasure clamoring for attention in her head, Salida managed to say, "I guess that depends."

"Depends on what, sugarbutt?" Jeffrey watched in amusement as he placed more light kisses on Salida's hip, amused at the effort she was putting into stringing words together to answer him. Most women would give up; his vixen strove to stand up to him even now.

"How quickly you want this to be over." Her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips

"What would you say if I told you I wanted to make this last all night long?" Jeffrey asked, trailing kisses along the edge of her hip, his nose tickled by the hair between her legs.

"I'd ask you to simply kill me now," she murmured, fighting to keep still. "Besides, I don't think you can last that long." Her muscles wanted to twitch and jerk and jump . . . anything to move Jeffrey's mouth. Anything to satisfy the roar of her blood in her ears and veins. It was too much. "Please, Jeffrey," she managed to choke out through the pressure building in her throat.

Please, Jeffrey. That was what he had been waiting for. She was right; he wouldn't be able to last like this all night. He could feel his senses dulling, coherent thought becoming impossible. Nearly the only thing that mattered was what was lying in wait beneath him. The only thought that was currently playing itself through his brain was a chant; Take her, you damn fool! Take her! repeated over and over again. He didn't know if it was from Sands, or merely his subconscious screaming at him, but it didn't matter. He would heed its advice. He looked down at Salida, saw her body quivering with need, his own body echoing hers in its own desires, and placed his throbbing length at her entrance. She gasped to feel him, and opened her eyes wide, locking her gaze to his. He looked at her for a long moment, before plunging himself to the hilt in her warm and willing body.

Salida looked up at him out of wide eyes, her body paralyzed for a moment along with her vocal chords. Her mouth was wide open in a parody of a scream, as she struggled with her body to breathe. With Tessa's body. With Tess-the-repressed's body.

Jeffrey smirked when Salida screamed in an excellent example of delayed reaction, and started to move, being none too careful. He was surprised when her legs came up to clamp around his waist with surprising strength, stilling his movements. "Oh god, not yet." And when she started vehemently cursing, her eyes closed and two solitary tears left matching trails down the sides of her face, he became somewhat concerned.

"Salida?"

"Yes," she gasped, cursing herself for being seven kinds of idiot, not to mention blinded by lust. "I'm here. It's just that . . . that . . . that ice queen wasn't broken in yet. At all." It hadn't hurt badly, but it'd been a major surprise.

For a long minute, Jeffrey remained still, not entirely understanding what was happening. Then it dawned on him. "You, you're a," he paused to collect his thoughts, his body wanting to begin a rhythm again, but he forced himself to remain still. "You're a virgin?"

"Well, not anymore," Salida said, a bit of her confidence returning to her. "Trust me, it was as big a surprise to me as it was to you."

"Well fuck me sideways . . . later," he said with a smirk. "After all your big talk," he shook his head ruefully. "Oh, I'm going to have fun with you, little girl," he said with a wink, and resumed his thrusts, being no more gentle now that he knew than he had been. It seemed as if nothing had changed, but by the continued smirk through the haze of desire on his face, Salida knew everything had.

The feeling of sudden and strange invasion faded as Jeffrey started moving again. Within moments, all Salida could think about was the renewed sensation of pleasure and total submission that had increased ten-fold since he'd entered her. Any considerations of complications this had added to an already mind numbing situation were going to have to wait until later . . . much, much later. Salida had the feeling she'd be paying for this for years to come, but first she wanted to make sure she did enough to earn the penalty.

With that decided, she let go of anything but the feel of Jeffrey's body in, on, around, and above hers. If Tess hadn't woken when she'd been 'deflowered', then she wasn't going to wake up at all. Which was good news, considering the alarming sounds starting to emerge from Salida's throat. Cries, groans, moans, and pleas. "Touch me harder," she gasped, trying to move with Jeffrey even as she tried to move her legs further up his body.

"As the lady requests," Jeffrey said, his smirk now a bit mocking. "But first things first. While having you in bondage is certainly fun for awhile, it makes certain things . . . difficult." He leaned over her and quickly undid the scarves that tied to her wrists. Once her wrists were free he pulled her up on his lap, deepening his thrusts enough to make them both groan in combined pleasure. He thrust into her a few times in this position before moving her back to lie on the bed where she had been before. Still thrusting within her, he reached his left hand up to finger her left nipple, pinching at it lightly. His other hand moved southerly, as he began to manipulate her clit as he thrust into her.

Salida fought to keep her eyes open, fought to watch Jeffrey as he labored over her, trying to match the intense gaze he'd fixed on her face. She should have known he was the type to enjoy watching the fruits of his labor, so to speak, and she wanted to match that . . . but it was so hard to keep her eyes open. They kept drifting closed as he thrust into her hard enough to make sharp groans escape her throat. When he occasionally gifted her with a particularly hard pinch, her eyes would pop open again, only to send her nearer to the rapidly approaching peak when the mingled sensations of his hands on her body and his body inside hers became too much to process separately. Every nerve ending in her body was connected, every single touch set off a thousand others. She wasn't going to last much longer.

She struggled to move closer to him, propping herself up on her elbows as her feet planted solidly on the mattress to give her enough leverage to add to the friction they were creating. If they'd been two matches, they would have gone up in smoke long before, in a single bright blaze . . . god how she wanted that.

God he was fucking getting close. Jeffrey didn't think Salida was even aware of the sharp cries that were escaping her throat every time their hips met, but he certainly was. He wasn't even entirely sure just what her combination of sounds and movements was doing to him, but he could feel his arousal building. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer at this pace, but he wanted to see her come before he let himself go. It was a matter of male pride, dammit. Deflowering a virgin was one thing, and he was indeed proud of that accomplishment, but all that pride would vanish within an instant if she managed to hold out longer than he did. "Are you getting close, my vixen? Can you feel your arousal building until you think you're going to explode from the force of it? Open your eyes for me," he instructed, smiling when her eyes snapped open and locked onto his. "Are you close? Tell me the truth. Does every movement of my body," he enunciated this with a few hard thrusts, "bring you closer to your release? Tell me, mis hermosos poco vixen. Tell me."

"Yesss . . ." she hissed. "I'm so close. Please, just harder. I need to be closer to you," she begged, her voice breathless and unsteady. Her legs slipped down to his waist, limiting his movements to short, hard thrusts, and grinding circular movements of his hips. Her eyes slipped closed again as she concentrated on finding release, feeling it come closer when he pulled her tight against his body. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, arms trapped between their bodies as he held her immobile. She cried out in frustration, now so close, but just not there.

Then Jeffrey bent his head to kiss the hollow behind her ear. She heard his growl as his own release grew closer, and she thought she heard words. Mine. This single word, whether she'd really heard it or not, was enough to slingshot her over the edge of any sense she was used to; her entire body froze, except for the muscles cramping deep inside her. It was almost like a Charlie horse, except a thousands times better. She suddenly felt Jeffrey redouble his efforts, and that was all it took. Left with no other recourse, she threw back her head and screamed, the sound dying into a harsh whimper as she ran out of air.

The thought, I knew she was a screamer, slipped across Jeffrey's brain before the pulling of her inner muscles upon him brought him to his own release with a curious mixture of a grunt, a growl, and a sigh that he could not believe came from his own throat. He kept thrusting into her until he was spent and then he looked at her blissed face, taking a moment to catch his breath before asking, "Was it good for you?" with a smirk.