Friday October 3rd 2008
What: An Outing
Where: A Surprise Place in Danvers
Rating: R for coarse language
Dante didn't trust Dee. That didn't necessarily mean he didn't like her, but he didn't trust her. Therefore, he was unwilling to tell her much about himself. That didn't mean they couldn't hang out together, and he couldn't watch her get drunk and dance and writhe around in that sexy way she had. He had seen her dancing at the party in the tunnels, and he couldn't lie that she was deliciously appealing. All the right lady curves in all the right places. He imagined that she'd look even better all wet, which was the goal for the evening.
He didn't show up at seven like he said he would, because he wasn't one to satisfy anyone but himself. He didn't want her thinking that he was eager to appease to her. Heaven forbid. He was dressed as he usally was, a ripped pair of dusty jeans and some generic tee shirt that looked like it had been stolen from the goodwill store. (Truth be told, it had.) And his boots, worn in and dirty and fraying, that stomped through the hallways to Dee's room. He knew where it was because he'd read her file. He had also picked up a few more fun tidbits from there.
His large knuckles rapped on the door loudly, shaking it on its hinges. "Dezaray Liên," he shouted loudly, though in a very decent French accent. "Of Queens New York, get your friggin ass out here..."