Natasha exited the elevator in a red and black, leathery state of what can only be described as undress. The outfit consisted of a red leather bustier, a black leather skirt that was close to not even big enough to be called a "mini-skirt," black fish net stockings, and a pair of red high heels that made her legs look a mile long. Everything was tight, form-hugging, and only half-covered her body.
When Janette left the office with LaCroix, she noticed Natasha and called her over to them. Approaching them, Natasha made a point to stand close to LaCroix, allowing him a close view of her... ah, endowments. She flirted with him for a minute or two before turning to her employer. "Yes, Mistress DuCharme?" she asked, faking innocence.
"What... happened to the clothes you were wearing earlier, Tasha?" Janette asked, trying to sound firm despite the laughter that clung to her lips.
"Oh... one of the customers spilled a drink on them." she lied, and started to turn her attention back to LaCroix.
"And you've nothing else to wear?" Janette insisted. She was silently laughing at LaCroix's discomfort over Natasha's forward nature.
"Nope!" Natasha said, smiling cheerfully. "Do you like it?" She asked LaCroix, pressing closer to him.
Taken by surprise, LaCroix fumbled only a second before saying, "It's a very charming ensemble, my dear."
Her flirtatious smile widening, Natasha flitted
off to wait on her tables. For the rest of the night, she made it a habit
to flirt with LaCroix when ever he was in sight.
"Do you see what I mean about her?" Janette asked LaCroix as they watched her moving seductively among the patrons. "She's very... handy... with her body, LaCroix. I worry sometimes about her."
"I see..." LaCroix said, his voice trailing off
when he saw her throw herself flirtatiously at another vampire. "Tell me
more about Natasha, Janette." He commanded her...
LaCroix followed Natasha up to the room Janette had chosen
for him. It was a nice room, most acceptable to him and accommodating of
his needs. He was tiring rapidly from his journey and from the night's
events. After seeing Natasha out the door, he went into the bedroom to
lie down...
LaCroix awoke to the sound of water running in the shower. Wondering what it could be, he rose from the bed and walked over to the bathroom door. Opening it, he was surprised to see the silhouette of a woman behind the shower curtain.
Just then, the curtain drew up and he saw who it was...
Natasha stood before him in the shower, her most intimate body parts covered only by the bubbles from the body wash she was using. Smiling up at him, she purposely 'dropped' her body poof onto the floor.
LaCroix watched in a mixture of astonishment and instant desire as Natasha made a show of seductively retrieving the fallen poof. His eyes traveled her body, following the bubbles as they slid downwards towards her toes...
"Hi!" Natasha greeted him cheerfully. "I hope you don't mind me using your shower. Mine's broken!" She met his enraptured gaze and smiled sexily. "Of course, you don't mind. I can see that. Then... maybe you wouldn't mind..." she held out the poof to him. "... doing my back?"
LaCroix fell for the innocent look in her eyes, and stepped forward to take the proffered poof. Instantly, Natasha's arms wrapped around his, drawing his full-clothed body to her naked one. Once he was in her arms, Natasha surprised him further with a deep, wet kiss.
When she kissed him, however, LaCroix seemingly awoke from whatever daze he was in to see what was going on. Natasha was trying to seduce him! And doing a very good job of it.. he mused as he pushed her away.
She looked at him, a sad, confused look on her face. "Don't you like me?" She asked.
"Yes, I like you, my dear. It's just that I--" he was stopped short when she kissed him again, joyfully. LaCroix pushed her away a little less gently this time. "Control yourself, girl!" He nearly snapped at her.
"But... but I--"
"No buts. You weren't invited into this apartment, and you don't need to be here," LaCroix told her. "Please leave...now!"
LaCroix turned away from her and returned to his. After she left, however, his mind began to replay the scene from the shower. He could still smell the scent of the body wash-- some tropical mango scent-- on his clothes after her embrace. Mango was not a smell LaCroix had ever particularly cared for up til now, but he suddenly found himself wondering what her skin would have smelled like when perfumed in that body wash. How... interesting... it would have been to have obliged her little whim. No! LaCroix's more logical half told himself. This isn't just any piece of skirt. It's Natalie Lambert; Nicholas's Natalie.
And yet, LaCroix found himself replying to his logic...
Natasha is *not* Natalie, in the same sense that she is. And Natasha is
a very desirable woman...