Be careful what you ask for (scott)
(Continued from - The Next Day )
Miya opened her mouth to protest Scott ordering for her, then shut it again. She knew better. Her thighs were drenched with desire, she was positive she squelched. She knew the seat was going to be drenched when she got up. It all combined in her to make her hotter. Squirming much too much, she gratefully grabbed the lemonade as it arrived. She never drank alcohol and Scott knew why. She gulped the lemonade down, needing a refill almost immediately. Unfortunately the lemonade didn't seem to cool the fire within her.
"Scott..." She begged as the salads arrived with the bread. When had he ordered salad? Hers had a tangy vinaigrette that was really rather fabulous. And as soon as the waitress had left, his hand was back under her skirt, teasing her as she gasped. She set the fork down knowing at this rate she wasn't going to actually eat her dinner. She coughed as he found an especially sensitive spot to tease. "Scott, how do you tell if someone else is, uhmm. like you?" There. She'd managed to get the entire sentence out, and only moaned once. His fingers stilled and she managed to sneak a bite of the crunchy carrot and cabbage slices. She loved a well prepared salad. Well, she loved most food. It came from a time when she was poor and couldn't afford food. Too bad she couldn't cook worth a damn. She sneaked a peak up at him, "Will you tell me about your past? When, how?" She was endlessly curious. Another gasp as he stroked up and into her.
Once again, he raised his fingers to his mouth, tasting her on them. His eyes focused on her, and he imagined the various delights he had planned for her later.
"How do I... what? Know if I'm in the company of another vampire?" he asked softly, taking a quick glance around to confirm they were still alone.
"I don't. It's not like the movies or books. There is no 'vamp sense' that warns me another is around. We have to find out for ourselves. Sometimes a vampire will wear a sigil or the emblem of their clan openly, which of course announces their membership. But most - like me - don't advertise such things."
He took a bite of his own salad, chewing and swallowing quickly. When she asked him about sharing his past, he froze for a moment, but then slowly continued eating.
He had told her about his 'past'... at least, the past 30-odd years or so. There were over 600 years before that, though, that she didn't even know existed until a couple hours ago.
"I can tell you more about my past - if you would really like to hear it. But... not here. Home, where it is... safer, and quieter," he whispered to her, a gentle smile on his face.
A moment later, their meals were delivered to him, and after making sure drinks were refilled (again), Shasta retreated, leaving them alone again.
When he nodded permission she asked curiously, "Can you talk about clans here? Is it like in White Wolf? Are you a Toreador?" She grinned a little bit. She always played a Toreador in the silly larp games that were always going on. "Or is that a question that needs to wait until we are home?" She looked across the table, and a guy diagonal from them was staring at her with a very predatory expression. She sat down her knife and fork and burrowed her face against his shoulder. It was an old habit that she had, when frustrated or embarrassed. It was a desire for protection and safety.
"It's... similar in some ways, drastically different in others. I belong to..." he began, but noticed her eyes examining another customer. He followed her gaze, and his met that of the gentleman who stared at her.
A burning jealousy ignited in his heart, and he had to resist the urge to lunge at the man and rip his throat out with his bare hands. He had endured other men openly wanting Miya in the past, but that was then - and this was now.
His eyes bored into the stranger, who met his with a wicked smile. But soon, the stranger turned away, unable to hold the intense gaze for long.
"I will explain more... later," he whispered to her, as he began to check his dinner, keeping a sideways eye on the customer. Could it be another vampire? Or just some strange human attracted to Miya?
He barely touched his steak, the outside gently darkened over a flame, but juices - and blood - oozed out of it at the lightest touch. Mmmmm, perfect.
She glanced back over and found the guy was watching her again. She sighed and concentrated on eating. She couldn't hide all the time behind Scott. Although they hadn't discussed what was going to happen. He'd mentioned something about making her completely his. And she knew that he would, he always kept his word. She wanted that more now, especially with the way that people were watching her.
"Scott, he's watching me again." She was nervous. She didn't like that look the guy at the other table was giving her.
He smiled at her, watching and listening. She was gorgeous... so beautiful.
At her warning, Scott looked up to the other customer again, who *tried* to turn his gaze away in time, but Scott had been too quick.
"I'll be right back, love," he whispered, as he set his napkin down by his plate and rose, moving over to the table with the lone gentleman. Casually, Scott sat down on the seat across from the guy, as the stranger eyed him warily. Scott noticed very quickly how tightly the guy was gripping his own steak knife.
"So, you like my girl, I see, from the way you can't keep your eyes off of her?" Scott asked.
The man didn't answer, but his eyes flicked back to her for a moment, then back to Scott.
Scott shrugged. "You don't want her, though."
The man looked Scott in the eyes - perfect. Having eye contact, Scott leaned forward, no longer blinking, his hazel eyes almost a deep green now.
"In fact, she's not THAT attractive afterall, is she?" he asked.
The man paused, staring at Scott for a moment. He laughed, as if he were about to contradict Scott, when his mouth didn't open. He just sat there, staring at Scott.
"In fact, you probably wanna move on over to the bar. The bartender is pretty hot, as are some of the waitresses who work that area. There's a few empty seats there, I can see from here," he said. "Plus, they have those big-screen TVs, you can watch ESPN or whatever."
The stranger nodded slowly.
"That's a good idea," the stranger said, as he slowly rose, picked up his own plate, and moved himself toward the bar area.
Sighing with relief, Scott returned to Miya's side. His eyes glanced back at the stranger, seeing him over the top of the booths, taking a seat at the bar.
He looked back to Miya, hoping she could relax again and enjoy her meal.
Her meal was over half gone now, and she was beginning to get full. Cutting a slice of bread, she buttered it and bit into the warm, buttery, crusty bread, a dribble of butter coming down the side of her mouth. Hot bread, so so yummy. Another of her sweet almost orgasmic moans at the taste of the bread. Oh she was happy, so so very happy. She almost radiated that happiness.
He watched as she continued eating. A bite of warm bread caused her to moan... a moan so close to one of the ones she issued forth when they were back at her place.
His hand found her thigh again, sliding upward, fingers sliding down gently into her still-wet folds.
"Are either of you looking at having dessert tonight?" Shasta asked, walking back up to their table, Scott's hand still caressing sensitive areas beneath the table.
"I'll be having some later when I get home, but... Miya? Would you like anything?" he asked, turning to face her.
"Uh. Hmm. Repeat the question?" The waitress did and Miya shook her head. She positively loved cheesecake, but right now she wanted out of here and to be bent over the hood of Scott's car in the parking lot. She knew she was blushing and squirming. Badly squirming.
After the waitress wandered off in search of the bill, Miya glared at Scott, leaning in to whisper, "Fuck me in the parking lot, over the hood of your car. Please my Sir." She knew he wouldn't since she asked for it but it made her grow wetter if that were possible. She needed him to cool this fire that raged within her.
But by her asking for it - she knew that it was likely off the table, now.
"Shasta?" Scott called, and the waitress came walking back.
"Yes sir?" she asked.
"Please have another order of what we each had prepared for us, please, to go?"
The waitress nodded, "Of course! That will be right up shortly," and she walked away quickly.
And then, Scott's hand was back between Miya's luscious thighs, caressing and stroking.
"I figured an extra of each we can put in the fridge and have later sometime. I hope that's ok," he whispered, as his fingers gained speed and intensity quickly... once more taking her to the edge, and then stopping.
"Give me a minute, please. I need to calm down some. Please." The urgency of her tone wasn't begging in the traditional sense. And when his hand withdrew to pet her skin she just concentrated on breathing, on calming the quivering muscles in her. She had to calm down. Thinking of anything to try and help - multiplication tables, counting in foreign languages...anything.
"If you do it again I'll cum here. Please wait till we are outside. I think I saw some people from the Museum over there."
He nodded her, "Alright, Miya. Ok," he replied, and soon enough Shasta returned with a large to-go bag, and a revised check.
Scott fished out his wallet from his back pocket and covered the meal, with a generous tip, and rose from the booth. He offered his hand down to Miya to help her up, assuming the time they waited for the second order was enough time for her to at least recover enough to walk.
He escorted her outside, and then over to his car. He opened the door for her and once inside, he shut the door then moved to his side of the car, getting in quickly, setting the carry-out bag behind his own seat. He started the car quickly, and exited the parking lot, hitting the strip.
"So where to next, Miya?" he asked. He felt somewhat guilty, having pushed her too far. He'd let her have some control, his usual way of apology. But he wouldn't torture her anymore, leaving her hands free this time around.
"I'd like to go home and change and take care of desert." She said carefully. "But I'd also like to have desert at the park. I miss the thrill of being in an open place with you." She hoped that she had enough of a purr in her voice to arouse him and put him back in the proper frame of mind. She wound the tie between her wrists, trapping them but not binding them completely since she hadn't ever mastered the art of self-bondage. As they approached a red light she held her wrists out towards him with a slight pout of, "Please?"
As they came to a stop at the red-light, he reached over, grabbed the loose-end of the tie, and pulled it carefully up over her head, and then back to the metal frame of the head-rest again, securing her in place once more. This time, though, he made it a bit tighter. Less slack for her to struggle against.
Satisfied, and at the urging of horns sounding behind him well after the light had turned green, he shifts and moves the car again.
"Give me directions to this park you want to visit, and we'll go there," he decided, focusing on the road again.
"You were close, hon," he smiled at her. Seeing her hips slightly gyrating against his seat again, he reached down to turn on the seat-heater for her once more.
Scott pulled the Mustang around and back onto the main road, still maintaining the speed-limit, and followed the route guidance.
After some distance, he moved his hand over to her again, reaching and grasping for her nearest breast, teasing and squeezing. But he did not lower his hand, at all. Not this time.
He smiled and drove, and soon enough, they reached the Park.