Scarlett McLaggen (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} starlitscarlett) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} 20somethings,@ 2022-04-09 12:57:00 |
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| Entry tags: | c: scarlett mclaggen, d: 2028 04, ~ complete, Ω: rp |
RP: Not-So-High Stakes
Who: Scarlett and William (NPC)
What: Scarlett seduces one of the regular high rollers.
When: 9 April 2028
Where: Undisclosed underwater club/hotel
Warnings: NSFW
Completion Status: Complete
Penny’s games had always been a favorite of William’s when he was in town. She always had the best locations, the best players, and the most gorgeous women. Tonight was no different. They were being hosted underwater, in a gorgeous club that glowed with the light from the water that surrounded them all around.Penny had decked the room out with twinkling lights that were suspended in the air all around, golden chairs glittering in the light bouncing, with crystal glasses filled with dark liquors. He rather loved the theme tonight. It was causing the women delivering drinks, and flirting with the too drunk old men, to look even more enticing as they slipped in and out of the shadows cast by the large aquatic animals swimming around outside their happy bubble.
William had noticed the petite blonde woman the first game she had worked for their host. She had been the one at the door, large doll-like baby blues batting at him as he gave his name. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and cup her cheek, rub the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. She had looked so bloody innocent, but something in her smile said that maybe the look was practiced. Maybe, she had a naughty side. He rather hoped he’d get to find out.
It was that idea that had stayed with him each time he’d run into her. Tonight, as she danced in the shadows, and glittering gold, she was positively delicious. He found himself catching glances at her as she waited on them, smiling anytime they made eye contact. Maybe tonight would be the night he’d find out.
When William noticed her behind the bar, he excused himself from the table after his last hand turned out to be nothing. No amount of sleight of hand could fix that hand. Instead of sitting through another round, he took the opportunity to head over to the bar. “That hand was absolutely rubbish, I’m certain that red headed fellow is cheating,” he complained jovially, flashing that warm casual smile that opened so many doors for him. “Can I get an old fashioned, love?”
When Penny had first suggested she might have a job that would truly inspire Scarlett, she'd been slightly skeptical, but she had to give the other woman credit. In the nearly five months she'd been working for Penny, she'd not once considered skiving off one of these games. They were where the real money was at, after all, and she did love money. The high rollers Penny was able to draw to these games generally responded well to her, giving her rather impressive tips for the pretty smiles she sent their way, or perhaps for the way she flirted with her eyes. Either way, it was clear that these men saw the same thing in her that Penny had. Some of the women, too, not that she was interested.
Tonight she'd dressed up in a way that felt inspired by her boss. Something about the high-waisted trousers and heels seemed to bring out her confidence, and she didn't think it hid her assets at all, leaving enough skin to tantalize the high rollers.
"Redheads are sneaky, you've got to stay on your toes," she retorted wryly as William, one of her favorites of Penny's players, walked up to the bar. "Are you certain an old fashioned is your poison? You're not interested in something a bit more... modern?" The flirtation was automatic as much as it was the job. Perhaps that was why she was so good at it.
"What's that they say about blondes?" he mused aloud, flashing her a playful smirk.
Brows perked at her words, that chest rumbling laugh of his leaving him. "Something more modern? Are you calling me old?" he asked in a low teasing tone, doing his best fake offended hand to chest. Remembering what grandmother looked like when his brother had come out to the family, he thought he replicated her ridiculous look very well. He leaned against the bar, elbow on top. "Alright, I'll take something a bit more modern. What do you suggest, siren?"
"I hear we have more fun," she practically purred back to him, leaning her palms against the counter behind the bar, her cheeks dimpling just a bit.
Scarlett chuckled at his antics, even if she was rolling her eyes on the inside. She was, at least, well trained not to show those sorts of reactions. "Hardly. You've obviously barely hit thirty," she answered, her tone conveying a bit more than it should that thirty was, indeed, old. What could she say? She wasn't always fantastic at being good. "Hmm..." She studied him for a long moment, considering. "I think you're a Smokescreen kind of man."
With that declaration, she started making the drink: scotch, mint leaves, a bit of lime juice, syrup, and Green Chartreuse. It was a bit sour, tamed by the mint, and scotch was always a good choice, though perhaps she was a bit biased with her Scottish heritage. Once the drink was poured into a short glass with a single, large ice cube, she slid it over the counter to him.
Lord, those dimples were beautiful. Damned Penny's no touching rule, he wanted nothing more in than to take her. He'd settle for trying to get her number tonight. If he met her away from the club, that wasn't necessarily breaking Penny's rules. He wanted to see those dimples while his cock was in her mouth. Was it possible? God, he hoped so.
Brows perked curiously at the tone she used when saying thirty, as if it was some dirty word. Curiosity was halted when she said smokescreen. "Smokescreen?" he repeated it as a question, but she was already mixing. Did she see something there that wasn't? He'd show her wrong if she was implying he was hiding something. He had been thinking too much about it, because he had missed her pouring the drink. Thankfully, he'd pulled himself from his thoughts in time for the slide, taking a drink. "Mmmm, I concede. You've got better taste than me," he said with that boyish smile.
Scarlett didn't bother clarifying, believing that the drink would speak for itself. And that it did, she thought with a smile edging on smug once he'd tried it and reacted so positively. "An intriguing drink for an intriguing man," she said, and it wasn't just flirtation for the sake of impressive tips. She thought him quite attractive and intriguing, and she wondered absently if Penny had ever... sampled him. "I do enjoy helping to satisfy cravings one didn't even know one had," she added with a slow smirk, mischief dancing in her eyes.
While she appreciated Penny's rules, and the patrons' adherence to them, she couldn't deny she thought they'd have an awful lot of fun together. At least, he didn't seem like the sort who would go stupid and fall in love with her.
The glass was used to keep that smug smile from revealing itself to Scarlett, taking a second swig. He was getting to her, calling him an intriguing man. She was playing right into his game, good. Maybe he'd get her number before the night was done. "Is that so?" he asked, the glass now half full, sitting on the bar between the pair. That smirk, he wanted to touch that full lower lip with the pad of his thumb. He really abhorred that blasted rule. "What other cravings might I be having?" he asked, giving her bedroom eyes, hoping for a split second she might slip her number to him. He was allowed to take that, of that he was sure. It wasn't touching.
Her tongue flicked out to wet her full lips, the flirtation seeming to have ramped up a bit to the point she was certain he'd devour her right there on the bar if he were allowed. And what a thought that was! She wondered if she could charm him into breaking into this place sometime when it was closed, see how many different ways and on how many different surfaces he could take her. Her eyes raked down what she could see of his body from behind the bar before looking back into his eyes. "Me, obviously," she answered confidently as though it were obvious. "You're a man who craves what he can't have, and I am oh so delectable." It was, perhaps, naughty of her to flirt and tease him in this way, but it was fun, and it didn't feel dangerous in the least.
That look wasn't missed, it had him puffing his chest out in pride. He knew he looked good, so there was no doubt she had liked what she'd seen. He licked his own lips at her answer, flashing her a knowing smile. "You do look delectable," he repeated her words, though he did his best to make it sound as naughty as the thoughts racing through his mind. He was certain she looked breathtaking naked. Maybe he'd get to see that sooner than later. He was certain now however that he'd be seeing her outside of the games. She was interested, he'd hooked her.
"Tis a shame I'll never find out, as you say," he held up his half full glass, in a toast. "To seeing you tonight, in my dreams," he said.
Scarlet's eyebrows curved up a bit at that, wondering if he really was giving up that easy. "I was always taught to never say never," she quipped, hoping he wasn't really going to give up. The flirtation was fun, and she'd never been good at leaving it at just flirting. "Besides, I'm not sure your imagination can conjure..." Before she could finish the thought, another of the players came up to the bar, interrupting them without any preamble.
"Gin and tonic, thank you," the man said, his voice holding an upper class, cultured lilt. He was shorter than William, his hair buzzed short enough that Scarlett was certain it would be prickly to the touch. Prickly seemed to be the right word to describe him. She thought his name was Alastair, but he'd never seemed interesting enough for her to bother remembering it.
"Of course," she said with her most charming smile. An utterly fake smile, but she was so practiced at it that it came off genuine. She mixed the drink and passed it to him, not bothering him to give him the personalized treatment she'd given William. When Alastair wandered back off, she looked back at William, her lips twitching in amusement. "He's definitely a gin and tonic kind of man," she told him wryly.
Never say never, he mused, doing his best to keep the delicious smirk from his lips. He had her, of that he was sure now. He needed to reel her in, and damned he was certain he almost had when the human-hedgehog stepped up to the bar. He stood just behind him, flashing Scarlett a playful smile. He waited while the man walked away with his drink, laughing as he stepped back up to the bar. "I'll never order another gin and tonic so long as I live, if that's what you think a man who orders it looks like," he said with a low whistle, as if this were the worst insult he could imagine. William would bet he had a Napoleon complex to go along with those spikes.
"How about you? What sort of drink are you?" he asked, letting his eyes slide over her body. At least, what he could see of it from where he was on the other side of the bar.
At that low whistle, Scarlett merely gave him a slow smirk. Gin and tonic was such a lame, snooty fucking drink, though that might be the Scot in her. Definitely not the sort of thing William should be drinking, in her opinion. And she did put rather a lot of weight on her opinion.
"Me? Whiskey, straight up, no chaser," she answered honestly, seeing no reason to hide it. She loved whiskey, the smoky flavors and subtle burn of it. She especially loved expensive whiskey. Little surprise there, considering the number of times she'd snuck some from her parents' liquor cupboard. It wasn't like her dad would have bought the cheap stuff. "Does that surprise you?" she asked, wondering what he thought of her.
For some reason, it did surprise him. He hadn't expected her to name some fruity drink, or the traditional cranberry vodka. That was always a favorite with the women. Whiskey, straight up, no chaser? That... What the fuck did that say? He had no idea, but he gave a nod of his head. "I don't know what I expected you to say, but it wasn't that. What's that say about you?" he asked curiously, brazen and drunk enough to ask.
That he would ask surprised her some, and it showed in the way her eyebrows curved upward. "Hmm, I don't know. Is it bad luck to psychoanalyze yourself based on your drink preference?" she joked lightly. "Good thing I believe in making my own luck. Which is probably what my drink preference says about me. No bullshit, just a smooth, satisfying burn. It might also say I've got a lot of control over my gag reflex," she added, one corner of her lips smirking. Though she thought people who had trouble shooting whiskey were rather pathetic, she did pride herself on her gag reflex.
There was no bullshit about Scarlett. That's definitely what that drink choice said about her. He wondered just what she could do for him, eventually. She had to have contacts, she worked with one of the most well connected witches he knew. He'd figure it out eventually, currently he was hoping she was right about that gag reflex. "Hopefully you're right about that reflex, and I could find out sometime. Over drinks?" he found that brazen streak was there to stay. Why not shoot his shot? He figured the worst that would happen is she said no. The best? Maybe he'd find out if she was honest about her gag reflex tonight, instead of days from now.
"I would never lie about that," she told him with exaggerated seriousness, though her lips twitched in a small sign of her amusement. "But sure, drinks. After the game?" she suggested. She wouldn't be able to leave before the game was over, as they all had their parts to play and she wanted the tips that were still to come, of course.
The games came to an end about an hour later, and Scarlett couldn't say just how much she'd earned in tips. Each time coins were passed to her, most often golden galleons, she slipped them into the pouch in her pocket which was magically linked to a safe at home. She would count her money after getting home tonight. Or perhaps in the morning. There was something she absolutely loved about not needing to count it right away, to have so much now that she could throw it around casually.
After her conversation with William, she'd taken a break to book a room in the hotel above the underground club, and when the game was over she leaned enticingly against the bar as she waited for William to approach her. "I was thinking we could take that drink upstairs," she told him, clearly implying that there was a room available to them.
William approached Scarlett after cashing out, having won the last hand of the night. He said his farewells to the friends he'd showed up with, having noticed the breath-taking blonde near the bar. There wasn't a chance he was leaving without her, and if he was understanding her right, they wouldn't be leaving at all.
"I'd love to," he told her with that charming smile of his. "Shall we?" he asked, offering up his elbow to her. "Which floor?" What drinks would be up in the room, he pondered for half a moment. He rather hoped there weren't any, and that the real treat was having her alone in a room. He wondered idly how she'd react if he slapped her ass, she did have such a tight little ass.
"The top floor," she answered, the 'of course' ringing through even though it was left unsaid. Pushing away from the bar, she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow, her other holding a bottle of whiskey she'd claimed. "We can take the lift up. I've already got the key." She'd considered taking him home or letting him take her home, but he wasn't Aldrich or any of the other men she'd brought home that she'd known well enough to feel comfortable doing so. William was a wild card, a high roller, and it was better that she not share her little safe haven with him.
The room wasn't as flashy as the underwater club below, but it was decked out in style with blacks, whites, greys, and bold reds and golds. The bed was huge, tucked away in an alcove away from the main part of the room, which had a large seating area with a telly, a small kitchen and bar with an intimate dining table. Crossing to the bar, Scarlett set the bottle of whiskey down, then turned to look at him. "The odds seem to have been in your favor tonight," she quipped, as if going somewhere private with her was clearly a prize he had won.
William followed her on to the lift, smirking smugly. She had already gotten a key for the top floor. He had made an impression. Good.
Her quip as she crossed over to the bar was cute, a chuckle leaving him as he followed her with a little skip in his step. He had unbuttoned the buttons on his suit jacket, letting it hang open. He hadn't removed it just yet, he rather liked the idea of having her take it off him. Her hands on his chest, unbuttoning each button of the shirt underneath. He definitely wanted her to undress him.
"It's because Lady Luck made my drinks all night," he explained, while producing his wand from his breast pocket, quickly calling two tumblers out for the pair. "Shall we toast to you, my lady?"
My lady. It had a certain ring to it, didn't it? Opening the bottle of whiskey with a soft pop, she poured them each two fingers of the amber liquid, passing one glass to him. "I suppose we should," she said, lifting her glass into the toast. After taking a sip of it--it wasn't the sort of whiskey one did shots of, as that would waste the exquisitely formulated flavors--she set the glass back down on the bar.
Stepping up to him, she unwittingly did precisely what he'd hoped, nudging the lapels of his jacket further apart and guiding the fabric over his broad shoulders. The heat was already beginning to pool between her legs, anticipating how that toned body would feel pressed against hers. "I don't think you need this anymore," she told him, and even with her high heels, she still had to tip her chin up to meet his gaze. His jacket gone, her fingers danced to the top of his shirt, undoing the buttons one by one. It would have been quick to do with magic, but there was a certain joy to be taken in doing it by hand.
William lifted his glass into the toast, taking his own sip from the tumbler. Then it seemed that luck was smiling on him again, she was granting his wish. His tumbler was set down next to hers, helping slip his jacket off. It was tossed over one of the bar stools tucked under the bar. Then she was close, so close that he could smell her perfume. He found himself placing an index finger under her chin, leaning in then to let his lips brush against hers. "Since you can read my mind, what am I thinking about now?" he whispered, his free hand coming down to rest on her hip. By just pressing himself against her, he was hoping to back her up against the bar.
That first brush of his lips against hers sent a shiver down her spine, and her back arched, pushing her chest against his, in response to it. She chuckled softly at his whispered question, amusement dancing in her eyes. "How much you'd love to have my lips around your cock?" she guessed, thinking it had to be clear to the both of them that she wasn't actually a mind reader. And it was what she was thinking, so she figured it counted for something.
Finishing the last button on his shirt, her hands slipped under the fabric, her palms sliding over the smooth ridges of his abs before pushing the shirt off his shoulders the way she'd done his jacket. And then she tugged firmly at his belt buckle, loosening it with quick, nimble fingers, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips.
"Blasted, woman. Only use your skills for evil, please," he begged her with a playful smirk, sliding out of his shirt. He wasn't about to stop her from getting him out of his pants, and he had no urge to free her from her clothes. There was something about her in that outfit, on her knees in front of him, that made his cock twitch in anticipation. He wanted her, he was going to fuck her on that bar, the bed, the balcony, any fucking surface he could find. He wanted to hear her moan, he wanted to bring her to the best orgasm of her life.
Only after he watched his cock disappear between those beautiful lips. His eyes watched her tongue flicking out to wet her lips, and it caused a low noise to slip from him. Merlin, he was going to wreck her.
As he spoke, she freed the belt, not bothering to pull it from the loops. Instead, she flicked the button of his trousers open then slid down the zipper. "I make no promises," she quipped lightly as she raked her fingernails down his bare chest before lowering to her knees. She worked his member free from his pants, not bothering to push his trousers down. There was something hot about sucking dick with the guy's trousers still on, though she'd never stopped to consider why that was.
Red lips, charmed so her lipstick wouldn't smudge, wrapped around the head of his cock, sucking lightly at first as her tongue swiped up the bead of precum from the tip. Her fingers gently guided his foreskin back, her mouth following, her blue eyes looking up at him as she put her mouth to work, proving that she, indeed, had amazing control over her gag reflex, even with his rather impressive size. The feel of him filling her mouth caused a phantom feeling of being full of him between her legs, and she knew she would be dripping wet by the time he fucked her there.
The blonde was so much better than he could have hoped for. She didn't even remove his pants, she just took charge, took his cock out, and much to his pleasure was so quick to put her lips around it.
She was bloody fantastic, those gorgeous eyes looking up at him, she was hot. It was such a turn on to feel himself hitting the back of her throat, it turned out the woman hadn't been fibbing about her gag reflex.
Without a warning, his hands came down to her hair, towards the back of her head. His own noises were low grunts, his hips bucking towards her mouth as she slid farther down his length. He wanted more, could she take more? He wanted to find out, with an evil little glint in his eye.
Sucking cock was one of her favorite things to do, something she made little secret of, and she prided herself on her skills. Her head bobbed over him, her throat relaxing as she took him deeper a little bit at a time, her hand working his shaft lower and lower as she went. Even the feel of his hand in her hair turned her on more, not minding in the least if he pulled it a bit. There was a thrill to be had in knowing she was driving a man wild enough to pull her hair while she was sucking him off.
What she didn't expect was for him to pull her hair hard enough that he kept her from moving her head, or for him to start fucking her mouth as if it were her pussy, his balls slapping her chin. Although her throat had already been relaxed, the brief moment of panic at his forcing control from her startled her, her throat tensing up. Her eyes started to water as her brain started to panic as though she wasn't able to breathe anymore.
Her mouth was so much better than he could have hoped. Then he felt it tighten around his cock, he could feel that orgasm getting ready to spill. If there was one thing he was always a gentleman about, it was that he never just came in a woman's mouth. He always gave them a warning first. "Fucken close, love," he warned, not even noticing that she was having issues. He had stilled his motions though so that if she didn't want him in her mouth, he wouldn't release early and cause more problems.
Before the panic could truly overwhelm her, he stilled and warned her he was close. Biting back a glare, she pulled her mouth away long enough to catch a breath or two before she went back to it. He'd just gotten caught up in the moment, she was sure. Some men didn't realize how their enthusiasm could be uncomfortable at times, and it wasn't as if she couldn't take it. She was good at this, damn it! Focusing more on the head of his cock now, her hand stroked over him firmly, confidently, and when he tensed, his hot seed spilling into her mouth, she swallowed him down. Her tongue swirled over him, lapping up every bit of his release, and when she released him, it swiped over her own lips, looking very much like the cat that caught the canary as she looked up at him from where she still knelt.
She hadn't moved away, instead she had stayed right where she was. Of course she did, he thought with a smug grin. His hand that had been in her hair had moved, reaching down to pull at her wrist, pulling her up towards him. "I do believe another toast is in order," he said, though he didn't bother to pick up one of the glasses. "To that fucken mouth of yours, it's good for more than being cheeky." William didn't kiss her on the lips however, his head dipped to kiss her neck. He didn't want to taste himself on her mouth, that definitely didn't sound enticing. Instead, he paid attention to a spot on her neck, just below her ear. "Naughty girl," he whispered, while slipping an arm around her waist.
Scarlett's smirk was just a little smug as she stood up, her head tipping at the kiss to her neck. She didn't care that he didn't seem inclined to kiss her on the mouth. She didn't love tasting herself on her partner's lips, after all. "I'm so glad you've seen the light," she said cheekily, as if to emphasize the point of his comment. Her own arms lifted, hands twining behind his neck. "I'd love to show you just how naughty I can be," she said, her voice full of innuendo, as if sucking him off was the least of her skills.
And so, over the course of the night, she did, in several positions. And when morning came, and she woke to find he'd slipped out without waking her, she couldn't help smiling at the note left on a bit of hotel stationary.
William had noticed the petite blonde woman the first game she had worked for their host. She had been the one at the door, large doll-like baby blues batting at him as he gave his name. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and cup her cheek, rub the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. She had looked so bloody innocent, but something in her smile said that maybe the look was practiced. Maybe, she had a naughty side. He rather hoped he’d get to find out.
It was that idea that had stayed with him each time he’d run into her. Tonight, as she danced in the shadows, and glittering gold, she was positively delicious. He found himself catching glances at her as she waited on them, smiling anytime they made eye contact. Maybe tonight would be the night he’d find out.
When William noticed her behind the bar, he excused himself from the table after his last hand turned out to be nothing. No amount of sleight of hand could fix that hand. Instead of sitting through another round, he took the opportunity to head over to the bar. “That hand was absolutely rubbish, I’m certain that red headed fellow is cheating,” he complained jovially, flashing that warm casual smile that opened so many doors for him. “Can I get an old fashioned, love?”
When Penny had first suggested she might have a job that would truly inspire Scarlett, she'd been slightly skeptical, but she had to give the other woman credit. In the nearly five months she'd been working for Penny, she'd not once considered skiving off one of these games. They were where the real money was at, after all, and she did love money. The high rollers Penny was able to draw to these games generally responded well to her, giving her rather impressive tips for the pretty smiles she sent their way, or perhaps for the way she flirted with her eyes. Either way, it was clear that these men saw the same thing in her that Penny had. Some of the women, too, not that she was interested.
Tonight she'd dressed up in a way that felt inspired by her boss. Something about the high-waisted trousers and heels seemed to bring out her confidence, and she didn't think it hid her assets at all, leaving enough skin to tantalize the high rollers.
"Redheads are sneaky, you've got to stay on your toes," she retorted wryly as William, one of her favorites of Penny's players, walked up to the bar. "Are you certain an old fashioned is your poison? You're not interested in something a bit more... modern?" The flirtation was automatic as much as it was the job. Perhaps that was why she was so good at it.
"What's that they say about blondes?" he mused aloud, flashing her a playful smirk.
Brows perked at her words, that chest rumbling laugh of his leaving him. "Something more modern? Are you calling me old?" he asked in a low teasing tone, doing his best fake offended hand to chest. Remembering what grandmother looked like when his brother had come out to the family, he thought he replicated her ridiculous look very well. He leaned against the bar, elbow on top. "Alright, I'll take something a bit more modern. What do you suggest, siren?"
"I hear we have more fun," she practically purred back to him, leaning her palms against the counter behind the bar, her cheeks dimpling just a bit.
Scarlett chuckled at his antics, even if she was rolling her eyes on the inside. She was, at least, well trained not to show those sorts of reactions. "Hardly. You've obviously barely hit thirty," she answered, her tone conveying a bit more than it should that thirty was, indeed, old. What could she say? She wasn't always fantastic at being good. "Hmm..." She studied him for a long moment, considering. "I think you're a Smokescreen kind of man."
With that declaration, she started making the drink: scotch, mint leaves, a bit of lime juice, syrup, and Green Chartreuse. It was a bit sour, tamed by the mint, and scotch was always a good choice, though perhaps she was a bit biased with her Scottish heritage. Once the drink was poured into a short glass with a single, large ice cube, she slid it over the counter to him.
Lord, those dimples were beautiful. Damned Penny's no touching rule, he wanted nothing more in than to take her. He'd settle for trying to get her number tonight. If he met her away from the club, that wasn't necessarily breaking Penny's rules. He wanted to see those dimples while his cock was in her mouth. Was it possible? God, he hoped so.
Brows perked curiously at the tone she used when saying thirty, as if it was some dirty word. Curiosity was halted when she said smokescreen. "Smokescreen?" he repeated it as a question, but she was already mixing. Did she see something there that wasn't? He'd show her wrong if she was implying he was hiding something. He had been thinking too much about it, because he had missed her pouring the drink. Thankfully, he'd pulled himself from his thoughts in time for the slide, taking a drink. "Mmmm, I concede. You've got better taste than me," he said with that boyish smile.
Scarlett didn't bother clarifying, believing that the drink would speak for itself. And that it did, she thought with a smile edging on smug once he'd tried it and reacted so positively. "An intriguing drink for an intriguing man," she said, and it wasn't just flirtation for the sake of impressive tips. She thought him quite attractive and intriguing, and she wondered absently if Penny had ever... sampled him. "I do enjoy helping to satisfy cravings one didn't even know one had," she added with a slow smirk, mischief dancing in her eyes.
While she appreciated Penny's rules, and the patrons' adherence to them, she couldn't deny she thought they'd have an awful lot of fun together. At least, he didn't seem like the sort who would go stupid and fall in love with her.
The glass was used to keep that smug smile from revealing itself to Scarlett, taking a second swig. He was getting to her, calling him an intriguing man. She was playing right into his game, good. Maybe he'd get her number before the night was done. "Is that so?" he asked, the glass now half full, sitting on the bar between the pair. That smirk, he wanted to touch that full lower lip with the pad of his thumb. He really abhorred that blasted rule. "What other cravings might I be having?" he asked, giving her bedroom eyes, hoping for a split second she might slip her number to him. He was allowed to take that, of that he was sure. It wasn't touching.
Her tongue flicked out to wet her full lips, the flirtation seeming to have ramped up a bit to the point she was certain he'd devour her right there on the bar if he were allowed. And what a thought that was! She wondered if she could charm him into breaking into this place sometime when it was closed, see how many different ways and on how many different surfaces he could take her. Her eyes raked down what she could see of his body from behind the bar before looking back into his eyes. "Me, obviously," she answered confidently as though it were obvious. "You're a man who craves what he can't have, and I am oh so delectable." It was, perhaps, naughty of her to flirt and tease him in this way, but it was fun, and it didn't feel dangerous in the least.
That look wasn't missed, it had him puffing his chest out in pride. He knew he looked good, so there was no doubt she had liked what she'd seen. He licked his own lips at her answer, flashing her a knowing smile. "You do look delectable," he repeated her words, though he did his best to make it sound as naughty as the thoughts racing through his mind. He was certain she looked breathtaking naked. Maybe he'd get to see that sooner than later. He was certain now however that he'd be seeing her outside of the games. She was interested, he'd hooked her.
"Tis a shame I'll never find out, as you say," he held up his half full glass, in a toast. "To seeing you tonight, in my dreams," he said.
Scarlet's eyebrows curved up a bit at that, wondering if he really was giving up that easy. "I was always taught to never say never," she quipped, hoping he wasn't really going to give up. The flirtation was fun, and she'd never been good at leaving it at just flirting. "Besides, I'm not sure your imagination can conjure..." Before she could finish the thought, another of the players came up to the bar, interrupting them without any preamble.
"Gin and tonic, thank you," the man said, his voice holding an upper class, cultured lilt. He was shorter than William, his hair buzzed short enough that Scarlett was certain it would be prickly to the touch. Prickly seemed to be the right word to describe him. She thought his name was Alastair, but he'd never seemed interesting enough for her to bother remembering it.
"Of course," she said with her most charming smile. An utterly fake smile, but she was so practiced at it that it came off genuine. She mixed the drink and passed it to him, not bothering him to give him the personalized treatment she'd given William. When Alastair wandered back off, she looked back at William, her lips twitching in amusement. "He's definitely a gin and tonic kind of man," she told him wryly.
Never say never, he mused, doing his best to keep the delicious smirk from his lips. He had her, of that he was sure now. He needed to reel her in, and damned he was certain he almost had when the human-hedgehog stepped up to the bar. He stood just behind him, flashing Scarlett a playful smile. He waited while the man walked away with his drink, laughing as he stepped back up to the bar. "I'll never order another gin and tonic so long as I live, if that's what you think a man who orders it looks like," he said with a low whistle, as if this were the worst insult he could imagine. William would bet he had a Napoleon complex to go along with those spikes.
"How about you? What sort of drink are you?" he asked, letting his eyes slide over her body. At least, what he could see of it from where he was on the other side of the bar.
At that low whistle, Scarlett merely gave him a slow smirk. Gin and tonic was such a lame, snooty fucking drink, though that might be the Scot in her. Definitely not the sort of thing William should be drinking, in her opinion. And she did put rather a lot of weight on her opinion.
"Me? Whiskey, straight up, no chaser," she answered honestly, seeing no reason to hide it. She loved whiskey, the smoky flavors and subtle burn of it. She especially loved expensive whiskey. Little surprise there, considering the number of times she'd snuck some from her parents' liquor cupboard. It wasn't like her dad would have bought the cheap stuff. "Does that surprise you?" she asked, wondering what he thought of her.
For some reason, it did surprise him. He hadn't expected her to name some fruity drink, or the traditional cranberry vodka. That was always a favorite with the women. Whiskey, straight up, no chaser? That... What the fuck did that say? He had no idea, but he gave a nod of his head. "I don't know what I expected you to say, but it wasn't that. What's that say about you?" he asked curiously, brazen and drunk enough to ask.
That he would ask surprised her some, and it showed in the way her eyebrows curved upward. "Hmm, I don't know. Is it bad luck to psychoanalyze yourself based on your drink preference?" she joked lightly. "Good thing I believe in making my own luck. Which is probably what my drink preference says about me. No bullshit, just a smooth, satisfying burn. It might also say I've got a lot of control over my gag reflex," she added, one corner of her lips smirking. Though she thought people who had trouble shooting whiskey were rather pathetic, she did pride herself on her gag reflex.
There was no bullshit about Scarlett. That's definitely what that drink choice said about her. He wondered just what she could do for him, eventually. She had to have contacts, she worked with one of the most well connected witches he knew. He'd figure it out eventually, currently he was hoping she was right about that gag reflex. "Hopefully you're right about that reflex, and I could find out sometime. Over drinks?" he found that brazen streak was there to stay. Why not shoot his shot? He figured the worst that would happen is she said no. The best? Maybe he'd find out if she was honest about her gag reflex tonight, instead of days from now.
"I would never lie about that," she told him with exaggerated seriousness, though her lips twitched in a small sign of her amusement. "But sure, drinks. After the game?" she suggested. She wouldn't be able to leave before the game was over, as they all had their parts to play and she wanted the tips that were still to come, of course.
The games came to an end about an hour later, and Scarlett couldn't say just how much she'd earned in tips. Each time coins were passed to her, most often golden galleons, she slipped them into the pouch in her pocket which was magically linked to a safe at home. She would count her money after getting home tonight. Or perhaps in the morning. There was something she absolutely loved about not needing to count it right away, to have so much now that she could throw it around casually.
After her conversation with William, she'd taken a break to book a room in the hotel above the underground club, and when the game was over she leaned enticingly against the bar as she waited for William to approach her. "I was thinking we could take that drink upstairs," she told him, clearly implying that there was a room available to them.
William approached Scarlett after cashing out, having won the last hand of the night. He said his farewells to the friends he'd showed up with, having noticed the breath-taking blonde near the bar. There wasn't a chance he was leaving without her, and if he was understanding her right, they wouldn't be leaving at all.
"I'd love to," he told her with that charming smile of his. "Shall we?" he asked, offering up his elbow to her. "Which floor?" What drinks would be up in the room, he pondered for half a moment. He rather hoped there weren't any, and that the real treat was having her alone in a room. He wondered idly how she'd react if he slapped her ass, she did have such a tight little ass.
"The top floor," she answered, the 'of course' ringing through even though it was left unsaid. Pushing away from the bar, she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow, her other holding a bottle of whiskey she'd claimed. "We can take the lift up. I've already got the key." She'd considered taking him home or letting him take her home, but he wasn't Aldrich or any of the other men she'd brought home that she'd known well enough to feel comfortable doing so. William was a wild card, a high roller, and it was better that she not share her little safe haven with him.
The room wasn't as flashy as the underwater club below, but it was decked out in style with blacks, whites, greys, and bold reds and golds. The bed was huge, tucked away in an alcove away from the main part of the room, which had a large seating area with a telly, a small kitchen and bar with an intimate dining table. Crossing to the bar, Scarlett set the bottle of whiskey down, then turned to look at him. "The odds seem to have been in your favor tonight," she quipped, as if going somewhere private with her was clearly a prize he had won.
William followed her on to the lift, smirking smugly. She had already gotten a key for the top floor. He had made an impression. Good.
Her quip as she crossed over to the bar was cute, a chuckle leaving him as he followed her with a little skip in his step. He had unbuttoned the buttons on his suit jacket, letting it hang open. He hadn't removed it just yet, he rather liked the idea of having her take it off him. Her hands on his chest, unbuttoning each button of the shirt underneath. He definitely wanted her to undress him.
"It's because Lady Luck made my drinks all night," he explained, while producing his wand from his breast pocket, quickly calling two tumblers out for the pair. "Shall we toast to you, my lady?"
My lady. It had a certain ring to it, didn't it? Opening the bottle of whiskey with a soft pop, she poured them each two fingers of the amber liquid, passing one glass to him. "I suppose we should," she said, lifting her glass into the toast. After taking a sip of it--it wasn't the sort of whiskey one did shots of, as that would waste the exquisitely formulated flavors--she set the glass back down on the bar.
Stepping up to him, she unwittingly did precisely what he'd hoped, nudging the lapels of his jacket further apart and guiding the fabric over his broad shoulders. The heat was already beginning to pool between her legs, anticipating how that toned body would feel pressed against hers. "I don't think you need this anymore," she told him, and even with her high heels, she still had to tip her chin up to meet his gaze. His jacket gone, her fingers danced to the top of his shirt, undoing the buttons one by one. It would have been quick to do with magic, but there was a certain joy to be taken in doing it by hand.
William lifted his glass into the toast, taking his own sip from the tumbler. Then it seemed that luck was smiling on him again, she was granting his wish. His tumbler was set down next to hers, helping slip his jacket off. It was tossed over one of the bar stools tucked under the bar. Then she was close, so close that he could smell her perfume. He found himself placing an index finger under her chin, leaning in then to let his lips brush against hers. "Since you can read my mind, what am I thinking about now?" he whispered, his free hand coming down to rest on her hip. By just pressing himself against her, he was hoping to back her up against the bar.
That first brush of his lips against hers sent a shiver down her spine, and her back arched, pushing her chest against his, in response to it. She chuckled softly at his whispered question, amusement dancing in her eyes. "How much you'd love to have my lips around your cock?" she guessed, thinking it had to be clear to the both of them that she wasn't actually a mind reader. And it was what she was thinking, so she figured it counted for something.
Finishing the last button on his shirt, her hands slipped under the fabric, her palms sliding over the smooth ridges of his abs before pushing the shirt off his shoulders the way she'd done his jacket. And then she tugged firmly at his belt buckle, loosening it with quick, nimble fingers, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips.
"Blasted, woman. Only use your skills for evil, please," he begged her with a playful smirk, sliding out of his shirt. He wasn't about to stop her from getting him out of his pants, and he had no urge to free her from her clothes. There was something about her in that outfit, on her knees in front of him, that made his cock twitch in anticipation. He wanted her, he was going to fuck her on that bar, the bed, the balcony, any fucking surface he could find. He wanted to hear her moan, he wanted to bring her to the best orgasm of her life.
Only after he watched his cock disappear between those beautiful lips. His eyes watched her tongue flicking out to wet her lips, and it caused a low noise to slip from him. Merlin, he was going to wreck her.
As he spoke, she freed the belt, not bothering to pull it from the loops. Instead, she flicked the button of his trousers open then slid down the zipper. "I make no promises," she quipped lightly as she raked her fingernails down his bare chest before lowering to her knees. She worked his member free from his pants, not bothering to push his trousers down. There was something hot about sucking dick with the guy's trousers still on, though she'd never stopped to consider why that was.
Red lips, charmed so her lipstick wouldn't smudge, wrapped around the head of his cock, sucking lightly at first as her tongue swiped up the bead of precum from the tip. Her fingers gently guided his foreskin back, her mouth following, her blue eyes looking up at him as she put her mouth to work, proving that she, indeed, had amazing control over her gag reflex, even with his rather impressive size. The feel of him filling her mouth caused a phantom feeling of being full of him between her legs, and she knew she would be dripping wet by the time he fucked her there.
The blonde was so much better than he could have hoped for. She didn't even remove his pants, she just took charge, took his cock out, and much to his pleasure was so quick to put her lips around it.
She was bloody fantastic, those gorgeous eyes looking up at him, she was hot. It was such a turn on to feel himself hitting the back of her throat, it turned out the woman hadn't been fibbing about her gag reflex.
Without a warning, his hands came down to her hair, towards the back of her head. His own noises were low grunts, his hips bucking towards her mouth as she slid farther down his length. He wanted more, could she take more? He wanted to find out, with an evil little glint in his eye.
Sucking cock was one of her favorite things to do, something she made little secret of, and she prided herself on her skills. Her head bobbed over him, her throat relaxing as she took him deeper a little bit at a time, her hand working his shaft lower and lower as she went. Even the feel of his hand in her hair turned her on more, not minding in the least if he pulled it a bit. There was a thrill to be had in knowing she was driving a man wild enough to pull her hair while she was sucking him off.
What she didn't expect was for him to pull her hair hard enough that he kept her from moving her head, or for him to start fucking her mouth as if it were her pussy, his balls slapping her chin. Although her throat had already been relaxed, the brief moment of panic at his forcing control from her startled her, her throat tensing up. Her eyes started to water as her brain started to panic as though she wasn't able to breathe anymore.
Her mouth was so much better than he could have hoped. Then he felt it tighten around his cock, he could feel that orgasm getting ready to spill. If there was one thing he was always a gentleman about, it was that he never just came in a woman's mouth. He always gave them a warning first. "Fucken close, love," he warned, not even noticing that she was having issues. He had stilled his motions though so that if she didn't want him in her mouth, he wouldn't release early and cause more problems.
Before the panic could truly overwhelm her, he stilled and warned her he was close. Biting back a glare, she pulled her mouth away long enough to catch a breath or two before she went back to it. He'd just gotten caught up in the moment, she was sure. Some men didn't realize how their enthusiasm could be uncomfortable at times, and it wasn't as if she couldn't take it. She was good at this, damn it! Focusing more on the head of his cock now, her hand stroked over him firmly, confidently, and when he tensed, his hot seed spilling into her mouth, she swallowed him down. Her tongue swirled over him, lapping up every bit of his release, and when she released him, it swiped over her own lips, looking very much like the cat that caught the canary as she looked up at him from where she still knelt.
She hadn't moved away, instead she had stayed right where she was. Of course she did, he thought with a smug grin. His hand that had been in her hair had moved, reaching down to pull at her wrist, pulling her up towards him. "I do believe another toast is in order," he said, though he didn't bother to pick up one of the glasses. "To that fucken mouth of yours, it's good for more than being cheeky." William didn't kiss her on the lips however, his head dipped to kiss her neck. He didn't want to taste himself on her mouth, that definitely didn't sound enticing. Instead, he paid attention to a spot on her neck, just below her ear. "Naughty girl," he whispered, while slipping an arm around her waist.
Scarlett's smirk was just a little smug as she stood up, her head tipping at the kiss to her neck. She didn't care that he didn't seem inclined to kiss her on the mouth. She didn't love tasting herself on her partner's lips, after all. "I'm so glad you've seen the light," she said cheekily, as if to emphasize the point of his comment. Her own arms lifted, hands twining behind his neck. "I'd love to show you just how naughty I can be," she said, her voice full of innuendo, as if sucking him off was the least of her skills.
And so, over the course of the night, she did, in several positions. And when morning came, and she woke to find he'd slipped out without waking her, she couldn't help smiling at the note left on a bit of hotel stationary.
Until next time, naughty girl.
x William