In contrast, Lust's ride home -- take that as you like -- was all too happy to remain disheveled, and Desmond looked so utterly pleased with himself that it was a wonder the man hadn't yet contorted to pat himself on the back. After following her inside with a mental note to make a later proposition about elevator rides, the New God gave up Lust's bag for the cost of a kiss to her temple and his free hand skimming leisurely down her side.
He backed off and let her go reluctantly, head cocked to one side as he watched her walk away. "Dangerous? Gads, woman, what do you take me for? I wouldn't hurt a fly, nonetheless put a woman in a compromising situation." A blatant lie, one which Desmond let shine through for his own amusement as well as Lust's.
While his hostess put her affairs in order, he tucked his sunglasses into his jacket before shedding the entire thing and tossing it over a chair on his way to the wet bar. Desmond wasn't the kind of man who'd say no to vice, and drinks were definitely included on that list. After a moment of familiarizing himself with where everything was, he set out two glasses and went through motions that were a little too practiced. Divorce had spent, perhaps, too much time behind one bar or another.
While Desmond found ice and chose liquors, he listened carefully for the sound of movement from Lust. She'd mentioned having meetings in the morning. Des had already decided that it was his mission to see just how late he could make her for them, and he punctuated the thought with an absentminded, depraved little smile.
In the end, his own impatience won out, and it was with glasses in hand that Desmond went searching for a certain Sin.