Caprica City
Before the Fall
"This seat taken?"
The craggy-faced man never looked up from his drink, which was cupped in two powerful-looking hands, but he did give what she assumed was a negative grunt. About her age, or maybe a few years older, he was solidly built, strong looking and well groomed. He wore a wedding ring, but was clearly alone.
Fine. She understood that. His disinterest was palpable and she admitted to herself that that fact probably made him perfect for what she needed tonight.
She slid up onto the barstool, swiveling her hips towards him as she ordered a drink, crossing and then uncrossing her legs until she saw his eyes leave the bar and drop lower to take a look.
That's it, big guy.
She smirked as she rubbed one calf against the other, resisting the urge to take a sidelong glance at him to make sure she had his attention.
The bartender dropped off her drink, while at the same time the man quickly drained the rest of his. She worried for a moment that he was going to excuse himself before she had a chance to talk to him, but when he motioned to the bartender for another, depositing his glass upside down with a thud, a sense of relief settled in her chest.
She sipped her drink, deciding to wait for his refill to arrive, thinking she could use that as her excuse to officially break the ice, but quickly realized that would not be necessary when the man quickly rotated his stool towards her.
"Can I help you?" he growled more than asked.
His warning tone caused Laura to instinctively switch to plan B - aborting her mission by acting aloof and appalled, lessening the sting of his implied rejection through skillful obfuscation.
She took a deep breath and swung around, ready to inflict a small measure of humiliation, ready to feign indignation at his implication that she was in some way seeking his attention. However her curt reply died on her tongue the moment she met his impossibly blue eyes. While his face was stone still, his eyes were mercurial and spoke of something haunted. Lonely. Painful.
Recognizing the twin of her own distant loss in those eyes, she understood this might not be a lost cause after all. That sort of desperation could lead to uncharacteristically impulsive behavior as she was well aware. She considered him a moment longer, reluctant to give up the strange understanding she felt despite his challenging words. A slight tensing of his jaw, had her shifting strategies yet again. "Actually," she continued, hesitating only slightly before boldly running her hand over his knee and then higher, to the curve of his upper thigh, "I was hoping we could help each other."
As they stared each other down, the bartender delivered his shot. Holding her gaze the entire time, he reached for the small glass and curled his fingers around it. He challenged her silently, waiting, wanting to see if she would back down from whatever game she was playing. She met his intensity with a steely resolve of her own. The tension stretched on, neither willing to budge. He hated losing, so he upped the ante, allowing his lips to curve into a predatory sneer as he slowly dragged his eyes down her body.
He had to bite the inside of his lip to keep his hardened mask in place. He hadn't thought he was in the mood and was hoping to scare her off, but this woman had a body that he was sure he could spend days getting lost in. Grudgingly he had already conceded that she had gorgeous eyes and a pert little mouth that he felt certain she knew how to put to good use. And now that he looked, he realized the rest of her could quite easily cash the check she'd been writing since she sidled up next to him.
Her hands steady presence on his thigh made her intentions clear, but he wanted to make sure that she really meant to roll the hard six.
She looked like she could have any man she set her sights on and he wondered for a moment what drove her to this dump. She looked to classy to be a working girl, but then CAprica City always had a higher caliber of hooker. And if she wasn't? Well, she was clearly an adult capable of making her desires known and if she wanted to pick up some stranger in a bar- well, who was he to try to protect her from herself. It didn't really matter to him anyway. Nothing had mattered at all since he'd come planetside two weeks ago. Maybe he should just consider whatever drove her here to be his good fortune.
He took his time letting his eyes, and groin, appreciate the trip back up her body, finding her eyes still fixed on him, with almost exactly the same look he was now trying to convey, equal parts challenge and invitation. He shook his head and gave a sarcastic grunt, before throwing back his shot. "What the frak, why not? You got a place?"
"What about yours?"
"Mine's got my drunk XO in it. So unless you want an audience…"
"Not particularly." She hesitated, preferring not to take him back to the conference hotel.
He waited a long moment for her to make some sort of decision. "I thought you girls always had a place lined up."
You girls? She turned the phrase over in her mind trying to make sense of his seeming non sequitur.
"How much anyway?" he asked, pulling out his wallet.
"How much?" she asked the moment before comprehension dawned and her features twisted into disbelief. "Wait. Do you think I am a hooker?"
"Look - I don't know what you are, but I know this was your idea. So let's get on with it."
She jumped off her stool and fumbled with her purse, throwing enough money on the bar to cover both of their bar tabs Does a hooker pay the tab? "As a matter of fact," she said, straightening her skirt and blouse, "I do have a place." She grabbed his hand and turned quickly, dragging him into the street.
The hotel that the conference was in was a few blocks north, as was her hotel room. Suddenly she was more than happy to have him in her room. A hooker?! Well, she would show him. She gave him a triumphant look as she marched into the Caprican Arms Hotel, the doorman welcoming her back and holding the door for them both, wishing the man a good evening.
As they walked onto the elevator she confirmed with the attendant when he asked if her destination was the Presidential Suite. She narrowed her eyes slightly when she noticed that the man next to her didn't flinch, did not show one hint of surprise that she was taking him to what was arguably the nicest hotel room in all of the twelve colonies.
It would have pissed her off if it wasn't an extension of the exact thing that made her pick him. When she had walked in that bar, the first she'd seen that she was sure none of the conference attendees would dare go in, he was the only man who hadn't leered at her, given her the half-nod of open invitation.
She walked purposefully into the room and crossed over to stand in front of the floor to ceiling window, staring out to the city beyond. She kicked off her shoes and ran her fingers through her hair. She saw his reflection in the glass as he closed the door, locking it behind them. He still seemed distant, like he was lost in thought even as he shed his coat and headed to where she stood. She preferred his stoicism. She wasn't in the mood to be a trophy and he certainly didn't seem in the mood to take one. This would just be a good old-fashioned frak.
His hand landed on her hip briefly before dropping to caress her ass through her skirt. As the length of his body made contact with hers that same hand slipped around the front of her body, settling low on her stomach, pulling her back hard against him. He anchored her back to his chest with his other arm and before dipping his hips and thrusting them back up against her, enjoying her sultry sigh.
He suckled and bit at the exposed skin of her neck as his hand dipped lower, fingers searching as she tipped her pelvis towards his seeking fingers.
"This is what you want, right?"
She nodded and moaned as his fingers massaged her through her clothing and she tossed her head back against his shoulder. "Frak me," she whispered on her exhale, and he chuckled, the first pleasant noise he had made all night.
The hand that had been massaging her breast, left to join his other at her hips, slowly bunching up the fabric of her skirt.
"Gonna frak you just like this," he roughed into her ear and then bit and suckled at the sensitive skin there as he spun her away from the window and towards the bed. He slid his hands up her back and pushed her forward so she was bent over the mattress. Her panties were pushed down and she heard the klink of his belt and rustle of fabric before one hand found her hip again.
His fingers found her exposed flesh again. He wanted to make sure she was ready as he had no desire to hurt her. He found her slick and hot, his pulse surging at the thought of what was to come. He took himself in hand and wet himself with the evidence of her desire.
Feeling the velvety warmth of him behind her, stroking over her sensitive flesh, she hummed her approval and twisted her hands in the bedspread. "Do it," she ordered and he immediately buried himself in her in one fast stroke, the sudden sensation pushing a gasp from her throat.
She was surprised when he stilled himself there for a moment. "Been a while," he husked by way of explanation, before reaching around to caress her breasts and sides before making slow circles back to grip her hips. "So frakking good," he groaned as he began to move slowly, pulling all the way out and then filling her again in tortuously long strokes. Sensation rippled out through her entire body over and over emanating from the spot where he breached her.
She whimpered and bit her lip as he continued to move deliberately behind her. She braced her arms and pushed back to meet him, a barely perceptible whimper emanating from her each time he bottomed out. "Don't hold back," he said, but she shook her head, worrying that luscious bottom lip, that he was suddenly sorry he had not kissed.
He stilled himself, buried deep inside her, holding her tight to him, withholding the pleasure until she was squirming under his hands. "You want more?"
She nodded and tried again to swivel her hips, to feel the amazing friction inside.
"Then tell me. Let me hear you."
"Frak me!" she commanded.
Immediately his hips started up a quicker rhythm, grinding and thrusting harder and harder.
"Yes, gods, yes," she keened as he filled her over and over, his hands visiting all of her most sensitive spots, as he continued to pick up the pace.
He felt her swell around him, squeezing him tighter. He brought his fingers to the small bundle of nerves that he knew would help send her over the edge. The long drawn out, "Yes," she blessed him with only encouraged hi to continue those attentions.
"Yeah, I know what you need," he told her as she squeezed her eyes shut, her breathing hitching in time with the circle of his finger around her clit.
Laura let her head fall forward and she concentrated on the overwhelming pleasure this man was giving her. His strokes, both inside and outside her body, leading her higher into ecstasy than she had been in a long time.
She was glad all of a sudden that Richard Adar had stood her up, playing the doting husband and father the closer they got to election day. Annoyance was her first reaction to being left keyed up and needing release, but as the man behind her took her higher and higher, in ways Richard never had, her annoyance morphed to humor and then contempt.
Frak, Richard Adar. The stranger behind her had shown more care about her wants and her pleasure in the last 5 minutes than Richard had in five years of secret rendezvous and quickie's in his office.
"Frak, him," she murmured quietly. "Gods, you are so much better than that frakker."
If her tacit admission of another lover bothered him, it didn't show, except maybe in the way he started to accelerate his pace and the strength of his strokes, his hands moving to grip and guide her hips as he drove them both further towards release as she now let loose a near constant stream of affirmations- 'frak yes" and "gods, right there" and once even granting him god-like status.
He set up a new faster rhythm, each stroke pushing her closer to her end.
"Harder," she demanded, and he complied immediately. She dropped to her elbows to help brace herself, wishing she knew his name so she could tell him how frakking amazing he was.
"There, yeah...frak...keep going," she encouraged. "Harder."
"Damn it, woman, you feel too good. Frakking come with me," and then he reached around to work her clit again in time with his strokes.
This time , the two sensations at once proved too much and she knew she was done. "Gods, yes, yes, yes, yes," she panted as her world exploded moments before she collapsed onto the bed. He bellowed behind her, stiffening and then jerking erratically, as he fell forward on to his forearms, trying not to crush her. He surrounded her, his bulk comforting in a way she felt guilty about enjoying.
"Get off of me."
"Can't stand up," he said, but rolled over onto his back. "What the frak?" he asked, to no one in particular.
She got up and surveyed the stranger, eyes closed and breathing heavily, naked from hips to knees, with his waning erection, shiny and limp against his bare thigh. Suddenly she felt the need to be alone and retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She ran the sink to get some hot water and cleaned herself up. She knew she couldn't stay in there much longer, but dreaded having to come out and figure out what should happen next.
She turned the handle and opened the door, "All yours," she stated, but stopped when she saw him, all buttoned up and slipping on his jacket. "I better go," he said.
She was glad he'd spared them both the discomfort of having to discuss their evening any further, though she was grateful he hadn't left while she was in the bathroom. That would have felt too much like the business transaction she had assured him this was not.
She slowly walked over towards the door. "Probably for the best."
"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck and then looking over at her. "For the record, whoever he is, he's a moron."
She smiled. "Thanks."
He smiled back. "I mean it. You can even thank him for me if you want," This made her laugh out loud.
"I'll think about it."
"Well, goodnight," he said and reached for the door, stopping when she put her hand on his arm.
She didn't know what made her ask, but she almost thought she might like to see him again. "Do you frequent that bar often?"
"No. Never been there before tonight."
"Do you think you will go again?"
"Maybe next time I am in town. I ship back out in the morning."
"You're in the Fleet."
"Yeah."
"On leave?"
"Not the kind you mean," he said and his eyes dropped to the floor for a moment. When he lifted his head, he flipped up his coat collar and looked at her. "Just in town for a funeral."
This time he did open the door
"Oh, I'm sorry."
He looked her up and down one last time, "Yeah," he started, lips thin as he nodded in agreement. "Me too."
As he turned to step through the door, she surprised herself by stopping him with a hand on his forearm. He looked at the point of contact then back at her face.
She leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, softly. She didn't linger, but pulled back to look into those daf eyes one more time.. "I really am sorry."
He nodded again and slowly walked out of her grasp.