Sydney was in shock. What was with the kissing? She suddenly realized she liked it. That was wrong of her, but she wanted more of those soft kisses, and in more places than her forehead. Sydney wasn't a virgin and she knew what she wanted, but she had been with one man, and only once. It had been her first time at college, and she had left after three months because of him. The embarrassment...
Sydney cleared her mind. What did her virtue have anything to do with Isaac? Those smoldering looks he gave her clearly stated what he wanted. But why? How did he know her? She had so many questions to ask, and he wasn't here to answer them.
"Asshole," she murmured unmeaningfuly. Sydney then took the time to look around at her surroundings. She drank it all in. She was in a sort of living room, or a sitting room. She hadn't really noticed where he had dragged her to after she had peeked inside the bedroom at the end of the long hall. The penthouse was oddly shaped, with rooms here and there, and so much glass. She was sure that bedroom had been his, and it looked to be the size of her entire apartment. There were plush settee's, sofas, and armchairs, and behind her a gigantic gas fireplace. It was modernized, she noted. It must have cost a fortune to put in a fireplace in an apartment like this.
Sydney then thought about the bedroom again. From what she saw, it was amazing. A huge, high canopy bed, covered with dark greens and navy blue threaded with gold sheets and curtains. There were padded arm chairs around a huge tv on the other side of the room, next to a bar, which was in front of a whole wall taken up by glass. He had many visitors, she could tell. And it seemed he was always entertaining in his room...
She brushed the feeling of jealousy that it might be more than quite a few various women away. Why should she care? All she cared about was getting out of here. Although.. it was rather nice.
But then a vision flashed in her mind, and she saw the body on the floor of his bedroom again. There was a little blood staining the towels that were put under her head, and she looked almost as if she was resting. From the brief glance Sydney got, she could tell the woman had been beautiful. But rather slutty, unless what she was wearing was a slip.
STOP IT, she commanded herself. JUST KNOCK IT OFF!!! WHY DO YOU CARE?! JUST GET OUT OF HERE!! She tugged at her silk bonds, and they wouldn't budge, wouldn't tear. After 10 minutes of struggling, her face was red with exertion, and she realized she was going nowhere.
"Damnit." She muttered, and began looking around. There were ancient-looking, but shiny and restored, rifles and weapons on the walls. There were black and white pictures framed in oranate but not overly-flashy frames, that looked old too. She wanted to study them, and was angry that she couldn't.
On top of the shiny cherry tables that held lamps were shiny oak boxes with latches. And in the far corner was a desk with a huge black leather chair. The desk was beautiful, looked to be last century but in amazing condition. It was made of cherry too, with gold and black designs imprinted on it. There were two lamps made of glass with white lampshades on each far end of the desk, and there were neat files and stacks of paperwork and bills on top. He was very well organized.
Looking to her left, she noticed a book was on the table next to her. There was a crystal vase filled with white roses, a book of poetry called Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman next to it...
Sydney cleared her mind. What did her virtue have anything to do with Isaac? Those smoldering looks he gave her clearly stated what he wanted. But why? How did he know her? She had so many questions to ask, and he wasn't here to answer them.
"Asshole," she murmured unmeaningfuly. Sydney then took the time to look around at her surroundings. She drank it all in. She was in a sort of living room, or a sitting room. She hadn't really noticed where he had dragged her to after she had peeked inside the bedroom at the end of the long hall. The penthouse was oddly shaped, with rooms here and there, and so much glass. She was sure that bedroom had been his, and it looked to be the size of her entire apartment. There were plush settee's, sofas, and armchairs, and behind her a gigantic gas fireplace. It was modernized, she noted. It must have cost a fortune to put in a fireplace in an apartment like this.
Sydney then thought about the bedroom again. From what she saw, it was amazing. A huge, high canopy bed, covered with dark greens and navy blue threaded with gold sheets and curtains. There were padded arm chairs around a huge tv on the other side of the room, next to a bar, which was in front of a whole wall taken up by glass. He had many visitors, she could tell. And it seemed he was always entertaining in his room...
She brushed the feeling of jealousy that it might be more than quite a few various women away. Why should she care? All she cared about was getting out of here. Although.. it was rather nice.
But then a vision flashed in her mind, and she saw the body on the floor of his bedroom again. There was a little blood staining the towels that were put under her head, and she looked almost as if she was resting. From the brief glance Sydney got, she could tell the woman had been beautiful. But rather slutty, unless what she was wearing was a slip.
STOP IT, she commanded herself. JUST KNOCK IT OFF!!! WHY DO YOU CARE?! JUST GET OUT OF HERE!! She tugged at her silk bonds, and they wouldn't budge, wouldn't tear. After 10 minutes of struggling, her face was red with exertion, and she realized she was going nowhere.
"Damnit." She muttered, and began looking around. There were ancient-looking, but shiny and restored, rifles and weapons on the walls. There were black and white pictures framed in oranate but not overly-flashy frames, that looked old too. She wanted to study them, and was angry that she couldn't.
On top of the shiny cherry tables that held lamps were shiny oak boxes with latches. And in the far corner was a desk with a huge black leather chair. The desk was beautiful, looked to be last century but in amazing condition. It was made of cherry too, with gold and black designs imprinted on it. There were two lamps made of glass with white lampshades on each far end of the desk, and there were neat files and stacks of paperwork and bills on top. He was very well organized.
Looking to her left, she noticed a book was on the table next to her. There was a crystal vase filled with white roses, a book of poetry called Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman next to it...