Thomas Cassidy//Black Tom (greenthumbthief) wrote in xtreme_end, @ 2010-11-07 17:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | black tom |
Who: Tom Cassidy and Regan Wyngarde (NPC)
When: 10/15 (backdate)
Where: A fancy NYC hotel
What: Tom learns why it’s a bad idea to sleep with someone you don’t know as Regan messes with his brain.
Note: Rated strong R for sex, language, and WX procedures. Danke to Joan for NPCing Regan!
In hindsight, it was a bad idea and he really should have known better.
But at the moment, Tom wasn’t thinking much of anything, just reveling in how damn good it felt to get laid...and, for that matter, to be flush with cash and almost victorious. The half paid up front for the goods was all well and good, and the other half would set him up prettily for the fall and the slow season of the shop, but he was far more interested in the fact he’d been sought out specifically.
Maybe it wasn’t very good for his cover to be cultivating criminal contacts and reveling in his underground activities and reputation, but damnit, he was bored with playing the honest citizen, with meekly behaving himself. Hustling goods kept his hand in, kept him in business, and kept his name current. And besides, it just felt damn good to have some cash he needn’t report, that was his and his alone - and a lot of cash, to that.
The hot blond who’d done much of the intermediary legwork between him and her employer was a nice trim bit of a bonus, to his eyes. She dressed in clothes that invited all manner of assumptions and comments, and had certainly been receptive to Tom’s suggestion that since they were both early to this meet and her employer wasn’t, they may as well have a bit of fun while they waited.
He could almost taste everything he used to have, and the taste made him hunger for more, made him want to be what he had once been: rich, successful in his own circle, with the taste of fine wine and extravagantly (and expensively) soft sheets and a beautiful woman familiar rather than a rare, fleeting gift. And maybe he was finally on his way back.
In a minute, he’d get up and they’d get back to the business of finishing the deal, and he’d take another step up, but at the moment, he just felt pretty damn good, all loose-limbed from sex, and pleased with himself; the combination of the two was almost as potent as a drug. His eyes still closed, Tom let his mind drift, and dozed. And letting down his guard was where the trouble began.