Super Slim, Super Sexy
Sam couldn't take his eyes of off her. Or rather, Sam couldn't take his eyes off of her mouth. Long and lean, Leah had always been a sexy girl. Now she was a wolf, and she was a woman, and the changes both of them had on her body had been amazing.
He didn't know when or why she'd picked it up, but he sure as hell hoped she didn't stop. Beside him, Paul grunted and adjusted his jeans as subtly as a well endowed man wolf thing could. Leah's eyes flickered to her boys – her boys being Sam and Paul, the two that were her age. One who she had had a relationship with, the other who she'd fucked – and she smirked.
Silently she pulled a lazy drag from the Benson and Hedges Super Slim she held in pretty, nearly dainty fingers. Slipping her lips from the cigarette – the only kind, she thought, that suited her figure – she pursed her lips into a perfect 'o' and blew a stream of tiny kisses at the boys. O, O, O. The smoke was surprisingly thick, a ring sliding around Paul's bent head and disappearing at his neck, like a phantom collar.
Leah wondered if she could get Paul to wear a collar for her. She glanced down at the lipstick stain on the filter before ever so slowly dragging the tip of her tongue across her upper lip. They'd had a wedding that day, a neighbour on the rez, and so she had dolled herself up.
Flicking the butt at Sam's foot, watching as he shuddered and pressed the heel of his palm to his groin – subtly, of course – Leah chuckled, a low, throaty noise. She flicked the pack of cigs with a crimson painted nail, tapping a third smoke into her palm. She rolled it between her fingers, pressed it to her lips.
It was a simple pleasure, but one that her enhanced-healing lungs could handle. Leaning back, Leah smirked. And she smoked.