wolfsdaughter (wolfsdaughter) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2021-02-01 16:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | echo bishop, mo byrne |
For A Good Time, Call
Who: Echo Bishop, Moira Byrnes
Where: Las Vegas
What: Opposites attracting
Rating: High for language, smuttiness and (possibly?) casual sex
The weekends tended to be a long awaited respite for Mo but this one had been filled with endless work transitioning herself into a partner of her firm. She was admittedly very excited and extremely exhausted. Her heart had brought her to a small after hours bar in the heart of the city. She couldn’t help but dress up to the nines. A soft silk blouse under a blazer and a short sequin skirt called to her when she dressed up for her mirror. As she entered she scanned the room for someone interesting, someone she hadn’t met over and over in the bar scenes.
She settled on finding a spot at the bar to do recon. “Gin and tonic.” She said to the bartender, no pleasantries: just an order. As the drink came she laid down her platinum card and rested her elbow against the bar as she sipped her drink gingerly. “Sunday nights aren’t exactly thriving here, huh?” She muttered to herself. The bigger crowds tended to disperse around 2am.
Echo was badly out of sorts when Nesryn left. She put the sketchbook in the bottom drawer of the dresser, then put the folded laundry on top of it before closing it with a noise that bordered on a slam. She didn’t know what she’d expected to happen, but it hadn’t been that.
At loose ends for the rest of the day, she topped off the truck’s gas tank and headed up the highway to the city, which she hadn’t gotten a look at. Gambling didn’t interest her much, but she’d been doing some internet searches for other things to occupy her. And she could use the distraction.
Vegas offered a different underlying vibe than Searchlight, and she ended up making a day of it. The Strip turned out to be almost beautiful at night, the layer of grime washed off by the bright neon of the clubs and casinos. Now that it was December, the sunlight was thin, but the full moon wasn’t due for a week or so. If nothing else, she could sleep in the truck. She’d done it before.
The bar was called Dino’s, and the greeter looked at her dusty boots and Star Wars T shirt with disdain, but she’d thrown on a black suit jacket over it, and the combination of formal and casual convinced him she was either part of the local art crowd or an aspiring screenwriter. The werewolf took a place at the bar and ordered two tequila shooters. Then a third. She didn’t usually overindulge, but as a distraction, this would work.
Mo watched with interest as a gorgeous woman entered who looked a little worse for wear. She’d been down that road one too many times and a part of her felt like maybe what this woman really needed wasn’t a drink. Her eyes went wide as she watched her down three shots in one sitting and Mo couldn’t help but react. She made her way over to the stranger like she meant business.
“Whoa whoa whoa whoa, why don’t you save some for the rest of us.” It was clear from the large smile on her face that she was only joking but she decided maybe that wasn’t exactly the best way to leave this interaction. She leaned against the bar next to her.
“What’s your name beautiful?” And why did she look so sad? She suspected that was a conversation she wasn’t going to have with Mo so she wildly speculated on it in her head.
Hello, skirt.
Echo was gritting her teeth around the burn of the third shot and couldn’t talk, and she’d never have said it out loud anyway. Not in public, at least. But she thought it, registered that she thought it. There was a mirror behind the bar, white Christmas lights strung up around the edges of it, and it threw the stranger into sharp relief in the reflective glass. She pushed two of the empty glasses across the polished wood, kept one for herself as a fidget.
“I doubt I’ll drink the place dry in the next half hour. There’s plenty for everybody.”
One booted foot planted itself on the floor, and she swiveled the padded seat in the other woman’s direction. “If I’d known there was a dress code, I’d have put on a tie.”
In another situation, she might have felt self-conscious about the obvious difference between her clothes and those of the few other patrons who were still there, but she was just pissed enough and just proud enough to not be overly bothered. She’d been raised to keep her head up, and besides, the view right now was better that way.
“I’m Echo. What’s your name, and would you like to join me and keep me from hogging all the booze?”
There was something extraordinarily adorable about her response. Her brash attitude tended to either anger people or make them run away. So rarely did a person invite her fervor that she couldn’t help but be instantly charmed. She placed her hand under her chin and nodded her head at Echo. “Names Moira but you can call me Mo and I would love to join you.” She replied as she swirled her small straw around the ice cubes and liquid in her glass. She studied the way Echo moved, her mannerisms and dress. She could care less if she showed up in a garbage bag, Mo would have had her sights set on her regardless.
Finally she decided she’d take a drink, lips around the straw so she didn’t leave lipstick on the side of the glass. “So what’s your deal Echo? Do you always walk into a bar and slam three shots before you even sit down?” It might sound condescending but that was Mo. The lawyer in her had made this speech pattern unavoidable at times.
Still she smiled, not wanting to scare off the woman she was instantly fascinated by.
“Drinkin’ to an absent chucklefuck.”
She wondered if Nesryn had called Portland, asked for an explanation. Demanded one, even, since it wasn’t just her own life that had been upended. She had to keep reminding herself that it wasn’t the other brunette’s fault, although she couldn’t decide if a lie by omission was really enough to exonerate her. Whatever situation had been arranged for her, she’d had Rudolph’s presence in her life and not just a few scattered memories she’d had to have a spellworker help her unearth.
“You ever have one of those things where it’s like you waited your whole life for it, and when it finally happens, it’s nothin’ like you thought it’d be?”
Moira. It sounded Irish, though there was precious little accent in the other woman’s voice. The clothes said she was a professional type, or maybe she was a newscaster. Echo tried to remember if she’d watched the local news in the last week or so, decided she hadn’t seen her there. She put the empty shot glass down, started to turn it in a circle on the wooden surface.
“So what’re you drinking, Mo? Though I think Moira suits you better.”
The realization the other woman had brought on memories in Mo’s history. What she thought she’d do with her life, the odd way it turned around in the last few years, and the uneasy feeling that there was still something missing. “Nothing is ever what you think it will be. We’re all just chasing a feeling with no clear map.” She offered Echo a sad smile at that.
If she never turned, she’d be an old woman now, maybe dead. The idea both saddened her and made her grateful.
She was brought out of her reverie by the question and looked down at her drink to see that it was almost empty. “Gin and tonic and as far as I’m concerned gorgeous you can call me anything you want.” It was easy to slip behind the mask, she felt so comfortable with it. The confidence, the flirtation, the devil-may-care attitude, all hiding a deep insecurity and loneliness. She felt something then, maybe it was just her instinct, but she could tell Echo wasn’t an ordinary human, assuming she was human at all.
The shifter caught the bartender’s attention, asked for two more shots and a G & T for the other woman. Her free hand was still occupied with the clear glass. She’d imagined the place would be busier even at this hour, that Las Vegas never really closed. It was the tail end of the weekend, though. Even the drinkers probably had to go to work in the morning.
“You drink alone a lot? That’s surprising.”
She settled in, the base of her spine lining up with the stool’s low back. Returned the scrutiny in kind, the kind of appreciative look you gave an attractive stranger. And if it led to something, well, why not? She’d had enough labels slapped on her at this point in her life that one more didn’t bother her. She leaned one elbow on the bar as the server came back with their fresh drinks.
“No Mr. Moira?” Strategic pause. “Maybe a Mrs. Moira?”
She raised an eyebrow at Echo’s surprise. “Well I wouldn’t say I drink alone all the time but I don’t stop myself from enjoying a drink in public when I don’t have plans with friends.” And she was constantly seeking new people, those who were marginalized and lived on the edge. Sometimes she found them, sometimes they found her. Echo seemed to be surprising her around every corner and a feeling deep in the pit of her stomach told her to be careful. Danger could be lurking around every corner.
The drink was accepted and she lifted the glass to Echo in a cheers before taking a sip of it. She studied her more, to see if there were any other clues on the clothes that she wore or her mannerisms. The next part came as a shock, mutual flirtation initiated. She’d say she was rusty but Mo did alright for herself.
“No, I mean there was a Mrs. Byrne but you know how that goes.” Her Irish accent was slipping through with the drinks and her judgement would get cloudy soon. Better not to tell the truth, she could be a hunter and beside which no one wanted to hear about a dead ex.
“Yeah. Yeah, I know how that goes.”
Echo pushed the thought away, that she knew exactly how that went. Drew in a somewhat deeper breath through her nose, and it might have been just her own off mood, but she could sense the same bit of Otherness about Moira that she carried around with her. Or maybe just a different sort of Otherness. In another situation, she’d have practiced more caution.
“So…”
She touched her index finger to her temple, studying the other woman’s outfit as one or two more patrons took up space at tables. “You either work at the courthouse here in the city or you’re brand new at KNTV.”
She chuckled loudly at the speculation, truly amused at the idea of someone like Mo being in television. The FCC costs alone with her sailor mouth would have bankrupted the station. “The former, I’m a civil rights attorney.” She said between chuckles, taking some time to breath through her fit. She stirred the straw in her glass and mimicked Echo’s behavior. One finger to her temple, eyes squinted like she was trying to read her mind.
“I’m going to say either you’re a carpenter, or an undercover CIA agent.” Not that Mo was particularly bothered by the latter, though some of the men she worked with might find themselves scared. There wasn’t a crooked bone in Mo’s body even though her profession didn’t exactly garner people’s trust.
A man behind Mo accidentally bumped into her and with an annoyed look she turned around and yelled. “Watch it asshole!” The man grumbled and walked away.
“Half right. I run a shrimp boat just off the Gulf, or I did. There’s some carpentering to be done, at least for repairs.”
She left off with her new drink for a minute, watched the tourist snag his jacket and clear up his tab. When he was out of earshot, she said, “The civil rights folks get a bunch of work down in Louisiana. Smaller operations are always gettin’ squeezed, though I was lucky ‘cause I contract out sometimes. Sounds like good work.”
“A seawoman? Sounds like something an undercover CIA agent would say.” She teased. Her eyes crossed the room to look at their reflections in the mirror.
A scoff left her lips when she finally turned back to Echo. “You know for all the work I do to defend people, you’d be surprised at how nasty it can get.” Her eyes looked away as she pondered on it, her fingers playing at the delicate sequins on her skirt. “Through all the progress and change there are still people out there getting away with being absolute pieces of shit.” Now she was depressing herself, probably boring the hell out of Echo. More drunk ramblings from a surly old Irish woman.
She returned her attention to Echo, fist beneath her chin. “I seemed to have missed my opportunity but do you have a girlfriend or…” she hoped if it were one of the two it wasn’t—”...a boyfriend?” Or husband or wife but she felt like that was implied.
“Blessedly unattached.”
The werewolf held up both ringless hands, wondered if this would get to a part where she had to tell certain truths. It usually did, and some could handle it and some couldn’t. Humans were difficult to read as to how they’d react, and even if she was right about Moira’s Otherness, it might not be a compatible Otherness on her part. Still.
“How long has it been since you emigrated? I’m getting just a touch of an accent, but it’s almost not noticeable.”
After so many years she thought she’d all but lost it but she noticed she couldn’t quite suppress it when she lacked inhibition. “I was 15..” 1949 “...my mother was American and my father was dead so we moved in with my grandparents in Pennsylvania.” No mention of the fact that they were fleeing the IRA, or that Moira had several adult siblings who stayed behind. Moira had a long history and a light conversation in a loud bar wasn’t the ideal setting for it.
“You know…” she purred, leaning in closer to Echo like she was whispering secrets. “...I don’t usually go into so much detail without dinner first. You only get one.” She offered a wicked grin, hoping it was an alluring offer rather than an unwelcome advance. Mo had been around the block but that didn’t mean she was devoid of insecurities. It wasn’t exactly a subtle way of asking her out but she could play it off as a joke if she was met with rejection.
It prickled across Echo’s shoulders and the back of her neck, the sudden closeness, and she felt the Wolf rousing to being aware if not alert. Moira’s eyes were green. Her left hand dipped below the bar, and she took the other woman’s hand to rub her thumb over small knuckles. Mo wanted forward? She could do forward. She liked forward.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
She said it into the other woman’s ear, her voice a low hum, and this close she could smell both the similarities and the differences.
“If ya want, we could go somewhere right now. Get an early breakfast. I’m sure we could find something that’s open that ain’t a bar.”
Warm, so very warm. Mo had been cold to the touch for decades now and the sudden shift in temperature alone made her squirm in her seat. It wasn’t often that Mo was left so speechless and she scrambled to work through the haze of drunken decision making. After a moment she regained her composure.
Her hand in Echo’s gave it a squeeze and she leaned forward to place a hand on the other woman’s knee. “I have a bit of a curfew…” she explained, though not in great detail. “...can you get me home before sunrise?” Or into her bed, either worked for her.
“Curfew. Right.”
Echo waited impatiently for the barman to come back, then cleared up what she owed. She straightened the jacket’s lapels, though they didn’t need it, then ushered Mo ahead of her towards the door. It was just past three in the morning when they exited the bar, and the shifter did a left to right search of the street for a likely next stop.There was a slight bite in the air, and she looked at the other woman’s lightweight blouse before unbuttoning the jacket and taking it off to drape it over her shoulders. Smoothed the lapels, her hands moving slower.
“I’m parked over there,” she said, because she hadn’t had that much to drink.”Whaddya want for breakfast, beautiful?”
Moira thought on this for a moment, feeling charmed by the gesture of the jacket, even though she didn’t exactly need it. Maybe it was her nerves, she had a presentation tomorrow that would determine if she made partner at her firm, but an idea came to her that was risky if anything.
“Why don’t you take me back to my place? I can cook you breakfast there.” She had a few breakfast supplies for moments like these though usually she was ordering take out whenever she had the wild hair to eat food.
The truck didn’t bother her, it was a nice change of pace from all the convertibles and environment destroying SUVs she usually found in Vegas. Her hand lifted to gently play with the material on the hem of Echo’s Star Wars shirt. “I promise I won’t bite.” That much was true, though the irony of that statement didn’t go unnoticed by her.
“Sure, okay.”
Because truthfully she didn’t want to drive back to Searchlight and sleep alone to wake up frustrated. The spark that had flared up between them was something she wanted to explore, and they could talk or not talk, have breakfast or not have breakfast. Echo dug into her pocket for the keys and jogged around the front of the truck after opening the passenger door for the other woman.
“Just point me in the right direction, and I’ll get you to your door safe and sound.”
As she climbed into the truck, Mo had a split second of self preservation. She stopped before she closed the door to look at Echo one more time. She wasn’t a dumb teenager anymore, far from it, and it wasn’t exactly as if Mo couldn’t easily defend herself. She smirked and closed the door.
“Two blocks north, take a right.” It would have been a lengthy walk but the drive wouldn’t take them too long. She muttered the code to her garage and they were making their way up the elevator to Mo’s apartment.
She tossed her keys on the small kitchen table as they walked in, immediately walking over to her fridge to see what she had. Her apartment was an open-plan, the only doors were her closets and bathroom. Photos took up one wall, years and years of memories dating back to the 1950’s. Other walls displayed collected political posters for elections she couldn’t have even possibly been alive for, at least to someone who didn’t know what she was.
“Eggs and bacon alright?” She asked, there wasn’t much in her fridge but the basics were always stocked.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
Echo’s voice was absent as she looked at the framed pictures and posters, turning on a lamp for better viewing. Both Kennedy brothers, Franklin Roosevelt, Lyndon Johnson. She thought the last one was Eisenhower, but she couldn’t be sure. The werewolf’s head tipped to the right. There were noises behind her in the kitchen, and she looked over her shoulder before starting in that direction.
“I like your place,” she said, propping one shoulder against the doorjamb. “I’m still crashing, more or less. Since I’m living out of a motel, I haven’t really settled in.” There was a pause as she studied the line of Moira’s back, and she scratched a spot on her upper arm with one finger.
“The pictures. Are they originals or copies?”
She hadn’t realized how much damning evidence she’d had in her apartment as she began to scramble the eggs on the stove she looked back over to Echo. She’d flush if her blood flow were still strong at the way she’d caught her looking. Her eyes seemed to smolder like burning coals.
“Uh, they’re… originals.” She replied as she saw the eggs quickly cook. To her side the bacon was slowly cooking in another skillet. “I’m a lot older than I look.” She tried to play it off. She didn’t normally tell people she’d just met but then she didn’t offer her home up to strangers often either.
“Mmm.”
It was just a sound, and Echo scratched the spot again in an absent fashion. Listening to the sound of sizzling fat in the skillet on the stove and counting off her own breaths. Weighing out how careful she might have to be.
“I believe I said I’d show you mine if you’d show me yours,” she said quietly, but she didn’t move. Though she might have to, and fast, if this went badly. “You still wanna see?”
Transferring the food onto plates, she placed the dirty dishes in her sink. She didn’t have time to serve Echo the food before the question came. She stopped and leaned against her kitchen island as she seemed to consider it. “Yes, but are you sure you’ve already seen mine?” She could be anything, though if Echo had been around the block, she’d know what sorts of things lurked out there in the real world.
“Why don’t we show each other at the same time?” Echo wasn’t a vamp, that much was clear but she’d crossed paths with all sorts of people over the years and there were plenty of other options.
“Not at first glance, no,” Echo said with a headshake. “I might not have asked at all if I hadn’t seen the pictures. I guess you’re not in the habit of inviting people back here.”
She looked down at the space between her feet, her dirty boots. There were no set rules to something like this, and if either of them had been entirely cautious they wouldn’t be here right now anyway. She tugged on an inner thread, reaching for the Wolf. Just enough.
When she looked up, her eyes had gone a dull gold and her canines had changed shape. One thing about being a born Were was that you learned to control it early, that even outside of the full moon you had to be able to manage it. If Mo had ever seen a werewolf up close, she’d be familiar.
“A werewolf huh?” She’d met a few in her time and most of them were a lot less friendly than Echo was. She didn’t have any problems with them personally but they tended to stick around their own and Mo wasn’t going to deny them that peace.
She wasn’t threatened and she wasn’t hunting Echo, but she could pull back her lips to show her. She came a little bit closer, wary about coming too close and showed her the fangs that were barely noticeable in public.
She laughed, chuckled to herself like a mad woman, eyes squinting in amusement. “Jesus fucking Christ it’s like a bad fantasy novel about supernatural lesbians.” She could only say that because she always made it a point to read anything that resembled that. A guilty pleasure. “I’m sorry, I laugh because I just can’t be shocked anymore.” Maybe someday.
“No need to apologize. Some of us learn to adapt and some don’t, yeah?”
Echo looked past Mo’s shoulder after giving the fangs a long look. She supposed there were rules about this sort of thing, that it was like a bad novel or a sitcom where wacky misunderstandings were the norm. The plate of bacon caught her attention, and she looked at it for another minute as she put the Wolf back in its box.
“Did you want me to go?” she asked, and the shoulder leaned against the doorjamb moved as she pushed herself vertical. Tucked her hands behind her back instead of in her pockets because her jacket had been put on the couch. “We both know why you invited me up, but I don’t…”
Her wrists crossed at the base of her spine, Echo took a half step forward. If there were rules, she broke half of them just by existing. What was one more?
“I can go if you want, or I can stay. If you want.”
Moira took her step forward and raised her a step forward in return. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She replied and took a handful of Echo’s Star Wars shirt to pull her closer. Mo was small, a measly 5’3” though Echo didn’t seem to tower too far over her.
“The way I see it, you and I are just people. People with...rare conditions and I am the last person to judge anyone with a rare condition. So why don’t you relax, Echo? We’ve got a few more hours until sunrise, why not just make the best of it?” Her fingers let go of Echo’s shirt as her arms embraced her torso. She could feel it felt preferable to touch her as her human form. Animals really weren’t Mo’s thing.
“So the question I think that needs to be answered, Echo is...do you want to leave?”
The shifter’s left hand moved, and she cupped the other woman’s cool cheek as she let out a quiet growl that had nothing to do with her duality. Because she’d wanted to kiss her pretty much since they’d gotten into the truck, and while she’d have left without incident if told to, she very much did not want to leave. It was the first time she’d felt a mouth against hers that lacked warmth, but she didn’t mind. She had enough heat for both of them.
When the kiss broke, she leaned down the small bit she needed to in order to rest her forehead against the shorter woman’s, for once grateful for her lack of height. Up this close, she could tell Moira wasn’t breathing.
“”You’re fuckin’ beautiful. I should have said that already.”
She allowed herself a bit of a chuckle at it, letting her own light blazer fall off her shoulders to reveal the scoop back where the material of her bra showed. “I’m pretty sure you did.” she remembered because that was when she truly knew it wasn’t one sided. The mirth in her eyes became apparent as she kicked off her flats.
“I think I might have mentioned your beauty once or twice.” It was twice but who was counting? Mo was. But who was keeping score? Mo. Always Mo.
The blouse was next as she lifted it over her head, careful not to hit Echo in the face in the process. She did have such a pretty face and it would be a shame to ruin it. Quickly she returned her arms to Echo’s hips and tugged at that same old geeky shirt.
“Your move wolf girl.”
The shirt hit the floor in a small puddle of cloth, and the freckles on Echo’s shoulders stood out in sharp relief on fair skin. Her forearms were a deep brown, a product of long hours in the sun as it reflected off of the water. Her plain sports bra was dark blue. When she started to unfasten her jeans, she realized she probably should have opted for sneakers instead of boots.
Button undone, zipper half-lowered, and her hands paused as she took in the sight of more and more female flesh., and how long had it been? Her rump made contact with the cushion of a nearby chair as she started to unlace her left boot.
Moira saw this as an opportunity. She unhooked her lacy bra and tossed it onto her floor before walking forward and pushing her gently back into the chair. She could finish taking her boots off once Mo dragged her to bed. She climbed into Echo’s lap and the sudden warmth from the other body was overwhelming.
Her hands framed Echo’s face. “You are quite fucking sexy.” Had she said it enough? It didn’t matter much at this point based on the sheer position they were in. Her cold lips leaned into grasp Echo’s in a kiss. Her hands smoothed down her neck along the freckled shoulders of the other woman. Mo’s own kissed-by-fire freckles lightly peppered what seemed like her entire body.
Hands came to rest on Echo’s chest, still clothed against her own bared breasts.
The shifter made some noise, slipped an arm around the other woman’s waist, then a hand down to cup a well-rounded ass. If she could remember later, she’d have to ask Moira to sit for her. She was equal parts curves and a coolness that fit exactly right in her lap, and the fingers of her other hand threaded into red-blonde hair.
“Goddamn, girl.”
It was a mutter, her half-open mouth against Mo’s collarbone before it wandered to where her pulse point would have been. She still had her boots on, though she’d at least managed to get them untied. One foot moved, worked at the sole of the other shoe. Difficult to do when she didn’t want to dislodge the delightful weight resting on her thighs. Hell with it.
She broke some of the contact long enough to remove the sport bra, smallish breasts suddenly chilly in the open air. A flush had crept down the sides of her neck to her shoulders, and she cupped Moira’s breasts with work-roughened hands.
The sensation was immediate and she writhed under the touch, desperate to find that climax she knew she’d find by morning. She sat back a bit to admire Echo’s body. She never understood why anyone wouldn’t find a body like Echo’s attractive. The boyish way her shoulders framed it all was an absolute turn on for Mo. She pressed her fingers against them, loving the way they felt beneath her fingertips.
Mo bit her lip, the smallest amount of blood appeared on her lips and she licked it up before she stood, grasping Echo’s hand as she did to pull her along. Mo was 35 when she was turned, not 21 and while having sex in the chair might have been comfortable then, it most definitely wouldn’t be now.
As she made it to the bedroom she let go of Echo’s hand to slip out of her panties. She turned around to regard Echo, completely naked and grabbed her hand again, her strength pulling Echo on top of her as she fell back onto the bed. Their mouths met.
Somewhere during the walk to the bedroom Echo had managed to shed her jeans, and now it was skin on skin as her unoccupied hand slipped between Moira’s thighs. The copper-tinged kiss made her growl again, a low rough sound.At some point, it had gone from being a simple distraction to something she wanted to lose herself in.
“Goddamn, girl…”
A moan escaped as she felt Echo’s fingers dip between her legs. She was wet, of course she was and while the rest of her body was freezing cold, she was warm down there and eager. She was beginning to wonder if she’d rendered Echo essentially speechless or rather rendered her to use just that phrase. Mo didn’t mind, it was charming, the rural girl speech patterns. She wanted badly for Echo to fuck her, to feel her fingers inside and outside, for her to reach that spot inside of her that would make her pop, but Mo was hosting a guest and it was only appropriate for her to please Echo first.
Using her vampire strength she pushed them over so that Mo was on top and began to suck kisses into Echos neck and shoulders. “You don’t have the smallest idea of what I’m capable of.”
It wasn’t a threat, there was an unmissable lust behind her words. Her mouth trailed down the length of Echo’s body, stopping briefly at one nipple to give it a bit of attention. Then she trailed further until she pressed her lips against Echo’s thigh, encouraging her to spread her legs.
She gave the wolf a look, a question of consent. She’d had a few drinks and things had happened pretty fast between them so she wanted to know that Echo was still into this.
”Then show me.”
The flush had deepened from light to dark pink, and Echo dug her heels into the mattress as she lifted her ass. She had never been so drunk that she didn’t know who she was with, and she didn’t do morning-after regrets. Not even tequila shots had taken the edge off of her awareness. The fingers of her left hand wandered through her already tousled hair, making it more unruly.
“I want this. I want you. Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
Mo smirked and raised a brow at her. “Aye aye captain.” She replied before using her fingers to spread Echos labia. The licks to her clit were gentle at first, a tease for an eager woman and Mo tended to like to draw that out a bit before giving in entirely. She flicked her eyes up at Echo, anxious to see her writhe and pop beneath her touch.
Echo was gorgeous, probably one of the most gorgeous women she’d met in a while save that obnoxious hunter who drunkenly stumbled onto her feeding on a cat, and Mo wasn’t sure how she’d gotten so lucky tonight. Any other bar and it would have been a bore of a night.
She let her free hand slide up the length of Echo’s body, hand landing on the left breast, feeling the way her nipples responded to her actions. There was something so much more powerful about being in this position, being the one in control. Her mouth surrounded that sensitive nub and she sucked in with her mouth as she breathed in through her nose, hoping against all hope to feel that instant reaction.
Echo was so overheated that the first touch of that cool tongue made her hips buck upwards, but her next few breaths exited on a pant that got lower and deeper as her pelvis rolled almost of its own accord. The world was tunneling down, narrowing to the space she and Moira occupied as if the universe itself was shrinking.
Her eyes had slipped shut, and she opened them to look down between her thighs. The knuckles of her left hand had found their way into her mouth, and she let out a low moan as her heels made deeper indentations in the mattress. Wondered dazedly if the taste would be the same or different, once she got enough air back in her lungs to find out. And she would think about the rest of it later, up to and including her ‘family’ situation. Or not at al.
She worked herself into a half-sitting position, supporting her weight on her elbows just in time to watch a pink tongue flick out of Moira’s mouth. A light sheen of sweat had broken out on her arms and stomach as she sat up the rest of the way. One foot trailed down the other woman’s back as her hips twitched in a slow, tight circle. Yeah, it had been way too long.
Moira was more than pleased with the reaction she was getting, because outside of most women she slept with, Echo’s responses were raw, real, almost animalistic. Made sense for a werewolf and the vampire took great pleasure in the feeling. Mo herself was was as wet as ever, feeling the need build inside of herself but this was all part of the lesbian experience. The give and take, and the arousal that came with the act of just performing this on another person.
Had she had use of her mouth for speech, Mo would have been talking dirty, describing her actions or her intentions as she brought Echo to the absolute edge but, as it was, her mouth was occupied and she didn’t hate that.
She let her hand slide down the length of Echo's body, bringing two of fingers between her legs to slide inside the slick wetness. She searched for that spot, the one that always made her scream to elicit a similar reaction in Echo. She’d like to get to know the wolf better but she was glad her shameless flirting evolved into the act she was performing now.
Blushing hard and breathing harder, Echo grabbed for the edge of the mattress with her left hand, knuckles whitening as a gasping moan signalled the crest. On the rare occasions when she moved this fast, it tended to be one and done, as if the adrenaline rush of sex burned out the possibility of anything else. But as she shivered her way towards stillness, she felt something strangely like tenderness. Or maybe she was just feeling sloppily sentimental.
“C’mere.”
Somehow she got hold of Mo’s hand, and she pulled the other woman on top of her. The room was almost pitch dark, even the one streetlamp beyond the window casting only dim illumination. Cool skin against her overly warm flesh made her shiver again, but not unpleasantly.
“Sun’s gonna be up soon,” she said drowsily, tucking a piece of hair behind the other woman’s ear. “If that window faces east, I can pull the curtains before we crash out.”
Mo felt herself get pulled up after watching the other woman come undone and she gladly came along. It had been a while since a one night stand. While Mo didn’t really date she also tended to get to know her flings a bit more than she had with Echo. It was a sort of danger she’d been missing in her life lately. The office had been her home more than her actual home, so utterly mundane.
She chuckled at the comment regarding the curtains and leaned over Echo to grab a remote that began to shut the black-out shutters down the windows of her apartment. She collapsed back onto her bed, wild red hair strewn behind her on the pillow. “Sorry to step all over your knight in shining armor routine, but I’m a lawyer and I take my work home with me. Sometimes I work well into the afternoon. Gotta have my darkness.” She nodded her head toward her desk which had a modest desktop and several files she’d needed further review on.
She grabbed at Echo’s arm and pulled her down on top of her. “So, why don’t you fuck me, Echo?” It was to the point and Mo could be pretty impatient.
“When did I say I wouldn’t?”
Echo let out an amused snort as she sprawled on top of Moira, and even in the near-total darkness she found the other woman’s mouth. The sharp curve of the vampire’s hip was a contrast to the soft give of her belly, and women’s bodies were just so much more interesting to her. Her left hand slipped lower even as her right threaded through ginger locks.
Hovering over Mo in the dark, Echo matched the rise and fall of her hips with the thrust of her left hand, and if she was rougher than normal it was coming from passion, not the jumble of other emotions she’d shoved into the background. Their combined Otherness had created a perfect storm of desire, even if it was fleeting, and convention had never been so important to her that she wouldn’t openly go against it.
“You sweetheart…”
And just like that she felt her body on top of her, falling back into a passionate embrace. Fingers grasped at Echo’s back, the feeling of closeness somewhat of a weakness for her. So often Moira felt cold, that was until she was skin slick against skin with an actual warm blooded being. Hips rose and fell to Echo’s touches and God himself couldn’t keep the endless string of profanities that fell from her lips as she felt her body come close to the edge.
“Fuck..” she yelled as the climax came on fast and strong. Who knew why men were always trying to find a way to last forever, quick sex was the best.
She lay there basking in the moment, hair a curly red mess before she sat up and grabbed her pack of smokes off her nightstand. Sticking one into her mouth she lit it and took a puff before she spoke. “You know, I think you’re the first person since my father that’s ever called me sweetheart and didn’t mean it in a shitty way.” She teased, a smirk on her lips as she bellowed.
Echo watched her go with the hungry fascination of someone who’d just remembered the sharp thrill of a new body, and when Mo finished shivering her way through the aftershocks, she dropped a kiss on her mouth. Then a second one, longer and slower as her palms wandered down the vampire’s flanks, before disengaging just enough to take up space on the mattress next to her. The sweat on her stomach and her breasts glistened in the darkness, and she let out a muted, breathless laugh.
“Holy shit…”
She could help the short chuckle that escaped her lips, coughing as smoke expelled from her lungs simultaneously. “You’re not so bad yourself.” Mo replied, putting on the cigarette out in her ashtray. She hadn’t really been smoking much lately though she knew that was about to change with her recent promotion. Instead of smoking she let her fingers slide along the length of Echo’s body. She liked the way she looked, completely exposed, vulnerable, sated. She hadn’t really paid attention to stuff like that with other one night stands but something about Echo made her want to forget about everything and just enjoy the moment.
“Is this something you do a lot?” It was an unfair question considering the fact Mo did but all was fair in such an intimate setting and if Echo wanted to point out the double standard, she’d own up to it.
“Not so you’d notice.”
Echo tucked her left arm behind her head, looking up at the ceiling through half-closed eyes. Realized she didn’t even know Moira’s last name in the same moment she realized she didn’t much care. She cut a look sideways before turning her head in the other woman’s direction.
“I don’t fuck and run, if that’s what you’re askin’.”
Her tone was light, even playful, her accent more pronounced than normal. Her free hand brushed against the redhead’s flank. The sheets were softer than the ones back at the El Rey, of higher thread count. When she got her own place, she’d have to get some like these.
“You, uh...you do this with werewolves a lot?”
“All the time.” She teased though that statement wasn’t completely off. It was possible she’d been more than she realized but this was a unique experience for her. “I actually have a whole pack of them I fuck on a regular basis.” She laughed.
“Though you’re definitely the cutest.” That part wasn’t a lie, Mo knew she wanted to sleep with her the moment she walked in the bar. She playfully tapped her on the nose and adjusted the way she laid to bring herself closer to the warm body in her bed.
Sun would be coming up soon and Mo could feel the exhaustion from the day finally set in. “You got someplace to stay?” She didn’t mind loaning the werewolf her shelter for the night but something about Echo made her seem like a drifter. It was part of her sex appeal.
“Yeah, but it’s down the highway, and for some damn reason I don’t feel much like movin’ right now.”
A soft snicker punctuated the sentence, and Echo covered a yawn with the hand not under her head. The sunrise was coming, she could feel the prickling awareness of it between them. She had plans for the day, to drive out to the Cove and see about work, but she could get there from here as easily as from the El Rey. After some sleep, some sleep and maybe some coffee.
Work-battered knuckles brushed Mo’s cheek, and the right corner of her mouth lifted in a sleepy smile. “No problems, okay, cher?”
She smirked over at the other woman, pressing a kiss to Echo’s fingers as they brushed past her lips. “Well feel free to stay the night.” Morning. “I’m usually up and out of here by five.” Pm. But that had to have been implied since five am had passed minutes ago. She watched as the other woman’s eyes began to fall and sat back up in her bed to finish off that cigarette she’d put out moments ago.
She’d be up for another hour, screwing around on her phone, smoking cigarettes and stealing glances at her one night stand. Sometimes Mo could feel the romantic heart of hers tug on the strings of her reanimated one, but it scared her. If she’d never met Serine where would she even be? Dead or old and neither of those seemed even remotely like something she wanted. There was too much shit in this world to clean up.
Eventually she drifted off, sweet images of the night they’d shared carrying her off to sleep.</lj>