- Chapter Eighty-Four-

Cab You Spare Some Change?

[Warning: explicit content]

Ideally this whole entire night would have gone differently; the adventurer would have stepped in when the heiress needed it, the young woman wouldn't have replaced the historian at the starting line, and she still wouldn't be spitting up sand.

Silently fuming about that whole encounter still, with the race behind them now it was just a little too easy to go back to that place, that wounded head space and the steam coming out of the ears. As was the way with hindsight, with a little distance the heiress could better appreciate why the thief hadn't matched her overly grand gesture, but he could have at least said something! Even if it wasn't to that woman, Dells saw no reason why Sam couldn't be bothered to tell her that it wasn't because of her...

Getting angrier about it because she actually felt like it would have made her feel better to have something obvious explained to her like she was five years old, Daniella wasn't the only one nursing negative emotions. Coming up short of seething, there hadn't explicitly been any kind of pin put in it, however if the subject were to come up the historian could safely bet that words would be said. And given who he was dealing with, it was also safe to assume that things would be thrown too.

Bitter definitely a word that could have been tossed around, it wasn't quite the one that Sam would have elected to use. To play things up more for effect, mortally wounded might have been a good turn of phrase to go with, or even victimized. Betrayed. If anything, yeah, he could give it that it felt like she had stuck some ornate dagger in his back. Right between the shoulder blades and wedging itself ever deeper, it was stupid that so much of this venom sprang from the young woman picking Joey to join her in the race. It had to have been out of some twisted sense of revenge, right? To get him back for not stepping in with Kimmy?

Brash, it was either that or she was just that dense. Maybe it just boiled down to her not understanding that they were supposed to be a team, and she wasn't trying to be vindictive, but then what was that instant karma about?

Granted the girl tripping was damn-near a certainty, but in a more right version of events, the knight would have been there to catch the princess, either to prevent her fall entirely in the PG cut, or to at least soften the blow before a bit of PG-13 kissing. Wait, this was supposed to be an 'ideal' scenario... Scratch that last. Bubble already this close to bursting, it would have been closer to an adult rating, and there wouldn't have been an audience (or they would have magically cleared out just in time for the clothes to come off).

Opting to ignore the little ways that physical contact was all but guaranteed, every single turn made the pair slide into one another, their thighs bouncing harmlessly and shoulders jostling enough to warrant peripheral action. Don't do it. Minds reeling on bigger and better topics, the inescapable fact was that it was just a bit too dark where they were, that even against better judgment there was some excuse to brush against the other.

Ever-present undercurrent of teenage horniness aside, now that it was pretty much the night and everyone was headed home, the twosome were both thinking about the same thing: coddling. Very strongly opinionated on this count, Daniella blamed her protector (a special dedication going out to her most recent) for doing such a shining job that she was now actively expecting it. Allergically adverse to just how much the princess had been pampered - some of which he had no choice but to take the credit for - Sam was seriously starting to second-guess all the slack she had been getting.

He probably shouldn't have opened the cab door for her, and she... she probably shouldn't have taken her eyes off the scenery blurring by outside the window. Dark long since settled over the trees in heavy navies and rich violets, there was a yellow glow chasing the car down the dim streets. Nigh angelic, it had come close to catching them so many times, and yet it never could make it that final lurch.

Warmth at odds with the painterly palette of Van Gogh, each time their pinky fingers nudged against one another it sent a small shock through their respective systems, and it was happening on a semi-regular basis. Accident or kismet, in any other scenario it might have made for a more romantic scene.

"Victor says he's going to stick around for a while."

Intermittently flicking his lighter open and seeking anything and everything whatsoever to fill in the uncomfortable silence dampening the backseat, the auburn-haired silver fox danced around a potentially serious issue. No one had heard a peep from Bai since the beach, and while it would have been great for everyone involved, he doubted that she had finally returned to her throne in the underworld. At the very least, it probably should have been brought to the daughter's attention that Sullivan's deal had fallen through.

Not caring one whit about the emotionally abusive slave-driver that was formerly known as her mother or her whereabouts, the heiress could only find so much of interest about the back of their driver's head. Although burning the image of what resembled a golfer's cap into her brain was far more preferable to the alternative, which in this case was noting that Sam's leg had shifted enough to remain touching hers even when they were on the straight and narrow. Road. Acting with a learned facade of daintiness, Dells crossed her legs in a closed loop, fussing pointedly with the intentional cuts in her leggings to steer clear of her co-star.

"That's nice." Simplest answers sometimes the best, she swiped her tongue across her gums and found yet more sand lodged inside. Yuck.

Okay then. "..."

Lapsing into a tick-tocking stretch of maddening nothingness, the explorer closed his lighter with a decisive and metallic snap. Leaving the beaten silver rectangle on his lap as he fished around for a cigarette, she clocked the change in the routine and took the time to roll her window down enough to prevent the entire car from filling up with smoke. Scowling to himself as he lit up, the man wondered how she could be sharp enough to read his fidgeting like this and yet miss something so major.

May small wonders never cease.

Continuing to mess with her mouth in a less and less hidden and dignified manner, when her finger disappeared into that cruel little crevice for longer than three whole seconds, he finally arched a brow. Somewhat earnest, he asked as he inhaled that comforting wave of nicotine, "Cake or sand?" Much as the ex-con loved his little brother, Nathan had definitively proven that he should never be left around food, lest it suddenly come down with a curious case of freezer burn.

Forgetting the sullen mood for just a moment, she couldn't help but chuckle at the look that had been on Sam's face when he dug into one of the harder chunks of ice that had been mistaken for decoration. Laughing alongside Cassie and everyone else, it became a real party when he wiped some of the actual frosting on his niece, asking if it was ice or ice -cream. A triple free-for-all after that, no one batted a lash when the silvered brunette turned to the young miss at his other side and left a sugary streak in retribution.

Dried well over an hour ago (the goodbyes taking longer than they thought they would), there was still some trace of the attack, now a target for idle hands. Absently brushing the back of her hand against her cheek when the memory pushed play, nothing came away because she had missed the mark by a wide margin. But who cared about that when there was a bigger issue to contend with? Error enough to crash a brand-new computer like a virus, Dells really screwed up when she let herself look at Sam.

"...Sand." Warm sand, sun-kissed by the hot glow of summer, and moist, pounded down by the wet crashing of the mighty ocean waves. "It's mostly just sand." The intelligent move would have been to call it there, to cut her losses while there was still some currency called dignity left in the vault, to look away and bury her head once more. But somehow, he just made it impossible. "Sam, I don't..." Dells could hear her own resolve dissolving like scrap into toxic waste, her heart doing that thing it did whenever he was involved. Ultimately she knew that trying to stay mad at him was going to be a vain effort, even though it would have been easier, somehow. "That is, we shouldn't leave it like this."

Brow drifting ever higher into his hairline, his gaze immediately landed upon the creamy smear that she was completely missing. Shaking his head at her stab at treating this thing like an actual adult would, the thief was more interested in avoiding that whole fight if he could. No reason in particular, it just cut rather close to the real heart of the problem, and he was just so sorely tempted to do something about that thick white mess.

Resisting the urge for now, it was more (realistic) convenient to stew on the insult that had been dealt. "Like what, dear?"

Cool as the volunteer work the freezer had done in contribution to the party, the girl could tell that that wasn't a term of endearment. "This." Gesticulating to emphasis her point, Dells motioned jerkily between the pair, "I don't know what your problem is, but I'm mad-"

"Oh, you're mad. That's cute." Cutting her off before she could really pick up any steam, his eyes darted over Daniella's shoulder to the asphalt river, but that would take too long. This needed to be quick, so he put his half-smoked cigarette out on the matte leather bench. Smoldering ashes burning off a little too close to her hand, Sam twisted in his seat so that he could give his undivided attention to his fellow passenger. Going directly for her forearm so she couldn't get away, Dells asked for it. "Really. You don't have a clue why I'm mad at ya, and you think that you're the only one with somethin' to complain about."

Wait, wait, wait, he was mad? At her? Glancing down at his hand on her arm as if that would clear any/everything up, Sleeping Beauty was too taken aback to recall her own argument, let alone anything else. Things had gotten tense in the backseat, sure, but the heiress didn't have the foggiest that he was in that same place that she was. "What are you talking about?"

Pulse thrumming in aggravation, it occurred in no uncertain terms that this young woman was like to be the death of him. "Whattya think? Shoot me for thinking, but I thought - after the game and all - you wouldn't be up for it." Maybe it wasn't to a degree that qualified him for sainthood, but Sam had actually been thinking about her well being, believe it or not. "When you told me to ask Cassie, I was under the impression that was just your way of trying to win a few additional points." That you would sit the festivities out.

Que the guilty admission in her eyes.

"Then you..." coming up to the point that surpassed the hidden vulnerability in his armor and targeted the soft bits below, the ex-con surprised even himself by not shying away from saying it, "you asked Cutter to do it with ya."

"That kid?"

Name failing her in the grand scheme of things, Daniella was lost as to what he had to do with anything. Unless...

Clarification required judging from the stupefied look on the young woman's currently cockeyed countenance, the ex-con rolled his eyes and nodded once. Of course she was going to make him spell it out for her. Grasp tightening as if he were the one holding on for dear life, thinking of the exact moment she had done him wrong Sam couldn't help but feel a certain kind of possessiveness surging through his veins.

God, I just wanna take her and shake the shit outta her. "Don't you get it yet, baby girl?" I ain't gonna label it or nothing, but I ain't gonna sit by and watch ya with anyone else either. "Joey, Nathan... Your old man. Who the hell ever else. It should've been me."

Voice small as she stared at the man in disbelief, the cloud expanded before it could shrink and transform into something that she could wrap her brain around. "Why didn't you ask me then? All that time, I kept waiting for you... then I... I made a mistake and told you to go ask her instead." Despite the three-legged race going well enough for the kid, in the end everyone had told themselves that they were partnered with the wrong person. "I didn't realize..."

"Dells, you..." Pow, straight to the moon.

Torn between the excruciatingly understated desire to call her a twit and a royal dumb-ass of historic proportion, Sam compromised and let his frustration out another way. "You're a goddamn idiot, you know that?" Seizing the moment and the girl, he pulled the heiress's palm up to his lips to muffle sound of him screaming further obscenities at her. Only... Somewhere along the way Dells not only welcomed the bold move but altered it to suit herself, seeming to melt into his arms. Like she belonged there.

Always like she belonged.

Sweeter than claiming victory in a competition that had been thrown by the most serious of backyard rivals, between tasting the beach and white cake on her lips, his free thumb brushed away more of the offending stain. Everything falling into place now that there was some understanding as to where he was coming from - not that either would call this thing fixed per se - the night was only improved by her impulsively climbing on top of him. Girl might not have grasped everything, but damn if she didn't know how to make him feel better.

Knees digging into the cheap pleather when she straddled her man, a single thought was spared on how that must have affected the lacerations on her inner thighs. Once that was out of the way, Sam slid his hand up the side of her arm to wrap it around her waist instead (the road could get bumpy, and heaven forbid anything were to happen to his pretty little charge). Unless she wanted it to...

Bent low over her four favorite avian cutouts, the heiress nuzzled against his neck to buy a minute or two to let her head play catch-up. Maybe it was just her inexperience speaking, but she found the transition from being wounded creatures sharing their hurt to suddenly being a frenzied couple having a heated affair in the backseat of some stranger's car rather jarring. Although, having both said that and having taken into consideration that they hadn't technically hit upon what had been bothering her, a little touching didn't bother her all that much. Personally, she could go for a bit more...

Fingers digging into the extra fabric cascading down her spine while his mouth inched across the stitches that had gone into her crown, Sam let himself forget that they were still in public. Following that same train of thought without ever saying a word, Dells had returned to memorizing the shape of his jaw, to savoring the additional flutter that shot through his pulse whenever she got too close. Fun overriding logic, part of their respective brains had chimed in to remind them that they would be getting back to the hotel soon. Fully assuming that this was going to keep up, they figured that one of them could find a moment to tell the driver to circle around or park or something.

Once they left the car, that was going to be the end of it. At least for a while.

"It takes one to know one." Middle school insults the best she could do when her nerve endings were on lighting up like the fourth of July and the drive for more was flooding the last rational spaces of her brain, Daniella figured she could let this one go.

And... lips peppering every last inch that she could reach, it was safe to say that the heiress was more invested in what her mouth was doing than she was over how many times her head and shoulders had tagged the roof. Gone.

Meaning to brand every last inch of the other's skin with their lips (and maybe more) someday, tonight the heiress slowly traveled back up by way of ink wings, her palms flat against the outside of his chest. Hovering someplace over the grisly faded bruise her darker half had left, inching down to trace the circumference of the bullet holes that had lost him a large chunk of his life... Daddy had been quite bad in Panama. Catching herself before they could traverse anything lower, Adler 2.0 hesitated once more.

"Sam," name coming out in a breathy moan, this time there was more to the plea, "about earlier..."

For the love of Christ she was relentless! Could they not just enjoy this moment? Putting on that pout that he wore so damn well, the silver-tongued fox answered his little canary with a sly simper, "Can you hold that thought, baby girl?"

Bemoaning the building pause just as he acknowledge that she also knew precisely how to test him, Sam brought her fingertips up to his lips. Lingering on her left thumb and paying it particular attention, he allowed the digit to catch on the bottom-most seam of his face before taking it all the way to the base. Earning an appreciative little twitter from the girl when he let the suction do the talking, the experienced paramour followed up with a playful nip. He knew a couple of tricks to get her to play along without ever having to utter the word 'quickie'.

"Mmm..." Socks quivering in place and toes creeping closer to curling as her mind inadvertently raced ahead to all the other things that could be sucked in the tight confines of the backseat, the hormone-riddled princess was a little too quick to yield to temptation. All thoughts of being strong fled against the rising temperature of the scarlet river, both his and hers. "Alright."

Rage and aggravation transitioning quite well into a ravenous hunger that only his baby girl could sate, the thief did what he did second best and brought his lips raining down over the girl's. Feeling himself twitch in excitement as she murmured needily into what he would call just a simple kiss, this may have to be quick, but that didn't mean he cared about her any less.

Partially taken by surprise by the soul-sucking embrace and matching the need to fuse herself to her partner like a parasite, the heiress welcomed the intrusion. More than welcomed it, in fact, allowing him to take control since he seemed so wise as to what he wanted out of this exchange. True, the longer it went on and the further things progressed, the more obvious it became what was happening. In her old life, this was the kind of video she would play every so often or when she felt like she needed something different to stimulate herself. Why it seemed to be their first resort was a little... concerting. Right?

"Good girl." Breaking the light-refracting chain of spit that was all that connected them above the waist for precious oxygen, the thief found it rather difficult to meet her steely gaze when her breasts were so close to his face.

Mere centimeters at best, practically ready to abandon ship as her chest heaved and her breathing became increasingly more ragged. Absolutely hypnotized by the pert bounce of her humble bundle, the tatted conman removed his hand from wherever it had been last to her chest. Stifling a low moan in the back of her throat, the breathy bargaining chip let her head fall back when his thumb steamrolled across her nipple with a sensual slowness that they didn't have the time for.

Questioning why he was taking so long to ravage her, the dopamine hitting her skull triggered something in the relatively untapped impulse control center, reminding Dells of who she was. If you want something, take it. And boy, oh boy, did she want Sam.

By the grace of her ancestors and the ire of her mother, it was something so much greater than mere want... it was a need, a core principal of the id given corporeal form, the (im)perfect marriage of the ego and superego. Daniella needed Sam; in her, shaping her, fucking her until everything logical undid itself and the illogical was crystal clear, completing her. Loving her.

What?

Easing himself back ever so slightly with the semi-necessary reminder that she wasn't any of the others (related and not), Sam gave himself a moment to study the young woman. Honestly a little surprised that she was still this keen on him after everything, their whole expanded history and the seemingly rushed hook-ups, he flashed one of his cockiest grins yet. Maybe it was a bit smug to feel so pleased with himself for holding a young woman's interest for so long when she could have had anyone else she wanted; whatever, Dells made him feel as if he had earned it with her.

"Sam...?"

Grunting a short reminder that she was going to be a good little girl and steer clear of all that talking nonsense, he held her lightly by the side of the face. Almost a sweet gesture, he cupped her cheek so she could nuzzle against his palm, "Dells, be good."

Well, she wouldn't want to disappoint the man now, would she? Part of the vixen coming a little too naturally, the heiress kissed him deeply, transferring a gritty little pebble in the process. Spitting the pale particle out on to the floor where it belonged, the master historian and bullshit expert returned the lip-lock with gusto, delighting to feel her body rocking forward against his own.

Lips like the match that set off the powder keg, the frantic mania guiding their tongues around one another in the serpentine dance was heating up their blood like liquid fire. Eager to earn more praise, eager to please her king, eager to claim his princess in every way conceivable to man, the spark was getting to be too much.

Hips grinding well before the brain ever considered such an order, the almost throbbing erection currently poking through the man's pants was starting to dig into the very breathable fabric guarding her femininity. Regretting all those layers of clothes now, she was just happy that he had found his way passed the loose material of her tank top and was working towards the bra underneath. The less that came between them, the better.

"Touch me." Failing to mention where exactly it was that she wanted him to start, the truth was that the heiress could care less, just so long as he was paying her the attention she so craved. Just let me know...

Invitation too good to pass up, the thief forgot about unfastening the clasp in the back and proceeded to just shove the purplish material up and out of the way. Greedy paws spring against her autumn goose prickles, her body arched in his arms when he extended his protection to her alert nipples. Smirk spreading at the reaction, the historian buried his head between those modest mounds and kissed the skin between each breast. Are you mine tomorrow too, or just mine tonight?

Fuck.

"Dells..." Beginning to say something that they might both come to resent, instead of ruin a perfectly good moment, the thief pulled a fast one and retreated back to the sanctity of the perfect sanctuary.

"Sam..." Not so ignorant of the world to not know that what she had been about to say was the biggest taboo - the ultimate death of most fledgling unions - the heiress choked back the word-vomit that was on the tip of her tongue.

Chuckling nervously when he realized that she had also been about to say something (something important, something that he inexplicably actually felt like he needed to hear), the brunette hid his shame in a pink flicker.

Words dying in the cradle of her mouth when the ex-con's skillful tongue shot across one puckered bulb and then the other, her self-control was completely removed from the game when her fingers threaded into his hair. Nails scratching against his scalp as she clutched him closer, he chased away all semblance of thought when he nibbled at the sensitive jut of flesh and nerve.