Quidditch Weekly. She was sitting there reading quidditch weekly while he was- Adrian stopped that train of thought instantly as he caught her dark eyes drifting over his form. Nicely played Johnson. The whole feigning boredom and disinterest. Nicely played. This was exactly what he enjoyed most. The game. There was just something about the banter back and forth that got him more than any easy lay (not that he didn't appreciate those on their own right but like a home cooked meal... one had to mix things up).
"Not sure you could learn anything from an older woman. There was always something hot about old biddies like Umbridge." Adrian mused with a quirk of his lips. His hand shot up in the air quickly, the grin never leaving his face, not even for an instant. "Mouth. What's your pick or do we need to draw straws?" He was willing to play fair when it came to the highly important decision of orifice picking. "And not unless those fuckers wash up. They're dirty bastards." Whether or not he'd actually consider having such a situation with anyone he played with was... anyone's guess. Including Adrian's.
The game continued. Her move and the slide of her tank to reveal toned skin was good enough to distract him. Wait was she talking again? Shit. "Really is that so?" he stalked forward and leaned toward her bed, palms going flat on the mattress. His palm itched to test out that expanse of abdomen revealed but he had some semblance of self-control. Only some. "Detailed inspection starting... where then? Here?" He lifted one hand to give the waistband of her shorts a healthy snap. "Didn't steal my shorts did you?"