bitten_notshy | Priest - de Ulloa Residence, London, Wednesday Evening

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Priest - de Ulloa Residence, London, Wednesday Evening

Jack had stayed at the library late after hsi first day of classes. He wasn't studying -- it was all material he'd covered at the age of 12. He was, however, trying to ingratiate himself with his fellow students. They were such an interesting group, and Jack asked so many interesting questions about their lives that no one noticed he hardy talked about his own.

Home at last, he found a note from Sebastien indicating he'd be out working, then cooked himself a light dinner. Then he went up to his room and took out his phone. There were a few people back in Fandom he needed to check in with.

He dialed.

[OOC: If you want him to have called you, he did!]

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"Well, I could start at your knees," Jack offered, voice now a purr. "Hopefully that would distract you enough that you wouldn't kick."

...that wasn't a whimper you just heard, Jack, you imagined it.

"Oh?" Right, letting her imagination run away with her right now was a little premature. "And what would you be doing to my knees, Mr. Priest, that would be so distracting?"

"Nothing," Jack protested innocently. "I'd just start with tiny, tiny kisses, like feathers, moving up, with my hands resting on your hips so you couldn't squirm away."

"Which implies you're doing something squirm-worthy," Emma pointed out. "Of course I'd try to distract you, running my foot along the inside of your leg, or trying to catch one of those hands so I could give your palm a kiss."

"Hmmm, if you pulled my hand up like that the rest of me would come with it," Jack sighed, covering himself with a blanket. "Not that I'd mind. I might just shift so I could kiss you on the lips again."

"We're back to kisses and wandering hands, but this time we're both wearing a lot less clothing," Emma practically purred. "Since that's the case, I'm definately going to wriggle closer, getting right up close to stay warm. I wouldn't want us to get a chill."

"And my hands would have to wander a lot," Jack answered. "... purely so you'd stay nice and comfortable, of course. Though I might take some pleasure in doing my best to make you wriggle."

Now Emma really was purring. "I like running my fingers over your back," she confessed. "You always feel nice under my fingers. Smooth, and soft, but I can feel the muscles under your skin."

"And I like how I feel your fencing muscles under your curves," Jack said. "You're more curved now than you were a year ago. Have I ever taken the time to appreciate that properly?"

"I don't think you have," Emma decided. "Am I more curved? How?"

"Softer stomach," Jack said gently. "Plusher breasts. Your ribs and hipbones don't jump up to bite me, anymore."

"I was not that skinny." Yes, Emma, you were, especially when you first arrived at the school.

"At least you don't complain when I bite you now."

Jack laughed. "Did I ever complain about that?"

"Well, you make very interesting sounds, but I don't think any of them were objections," she replied, pretending to consider it. "I like it when I scrape my teeth lightly by your ear, and you make that one very yummy noise. I could eat you right up."

"Which is something I enjoy a lot. Nibbling on your ear, down to your collarbone... better than eating an ice cream cone."

Edited 2010-09-14 02:29 (UTC)

Jack wasn't quite sure how to answer that for a moment.

Boldness usually worked for him, so it was to boldness he went.

"Emma," he said. "There are bits of me much more like an ice cream cone."

...oh god, it had not sounded that dirty in her head, honestly, and Emma was trying (and failing) not to turn bright red and hide under her blanket.

"In defense of a real ice cream cone, you don't have sprinkles," she managed. "But I like those bits too, and they won't melt if I decide I want to savor the experience."

..that sounded almost worse.

"I could have sprinkles if you wanted me to."

And now Jack was just laughing, arousal forgotten for the moment. "I miss you so much."

"I'm surprised you didn't make a whipped cream joke," Emma replied. "Just wait. You'll get so buried in schoolwork, you won't have time to miss me."

"You're lucky cherries didn't come into it," Jack answered. "I'll always have time for you. Promise."

"You have a filthy mind, Mr. Priest. Be glad I find it endearing," she replied dryly.

"Save the cherry jokes for when we take Karla out for ice cream next time."

"Isn't our Karla growing up?" Jack asked idly. "She's been going on about Warren for months."

"That doesn't mean she'll get the innuendo," Emma pointed out. "Warren is a nice enough boy, I suppose, but he's nowhere near as clever as you are with your words."

Not that Emma was biased or anything.

"I firmly believe that you could read the paper aloud and make it all sound shockingly sordid."

"And I'll thank you for the compliment, and return it by saying the same about you," Jack answered. "And I can be a very proper young man, when I feel the need."

"When would you want to be?" Emma asked. "Especially when it's so much fun being improper?"

"It wasn't a proper boy that had me up against a wall after that party. And I don't take off my clothes for proper young men when they call me on the phone."

"You're still rather naked, aren't you?" Jack asked, as if reminded. "Should we ... explore that path, or hang up the phone and leave me to my own devices?"

Cold shower was not his preferred option.

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