Murphy McManus (Neophyte) 04/28/09 03:01 PM 70.229.27.64	What do you do when it rains cats and dogs? [[Traviata]]
	The storms had been rolling through London for the better half of the week, and Murphy had had enough sense to stay out of them for the most part. It wasn't that he had an aversion to the rain, quite the contrary actually. The boy was raised in Ireland for most of his life, and as such, dealing with rainstorms was just part of the deal. But the past week had been quiet on all accounts. No news from his brother who was still out doing God-knows what for Ivy, and he hadn't even heard from Ivy that much lately either. She must have been planning something fairly big for her to just up and disappear for weeks at a time, but it didn't surprise him. The little rat was twitchy and paranoid as hell, so when she disappeared he just assumed she was laying low because of something she'd done. Traviata was the only Rat Pack rebel that he'd had much contact with lately, and even that was waning because of her being busy with her little coffee shop. But Murphy did well on his own, and had taken the rainy day to be a lazy one. He'd been sitting at the table in the Rat Pack's headquarters. It wasn't anything special, but it was a small inconspicuous flat where the group would often meet before hitting a big job or taking down one of the 'bad guys'. They all had a key, and it just sort of become Murphy's second home. The only reason he was there now was because this flat had all of the Rat Pack's goods; their guns, weapons, plans, blueprints of corporate headquarters, etc. The Pack had been quiet and he was beginning to grow anxious at the relative peace in London. Murphy leaned back in his chair, pieces of his Beretta in his hands as he meticulously cleaned the inside barrel with a long tube cleaner. He hadn't actually used the gun in a while, but cleaning it calmed his electric nerves. The rest of his gun was spread out as parts on a cloth on the table as he went through and cleaned each one carefully. Murphy leaned back in his chair and shifted a cigarette from his lips to rest unfinished in the ashtray on the table. He exhaled a slow puff of smoke and watched it rise above his head towards the ceiling. It was a lazy afternoon, but it was the life.
Traviata Guerrini (Neophyte) 04/28/09 04:32 PM 98.228.109.122	Re: What do you do when it rains cats and dogs? [[Traviata]]
	Soaked from head to toe, Traviata leaned against the outside wall of one of the many buildings along the strip she was running down. Looking to her left, she brought a hand to her forehead to wipe away the moisture. "frick," she muttered, biting her lip. She'd been grazed pretty well by the butterfly knife the shady stranger had come at her with, and her arm was bleeding a fair bit. She had a bruise on her forehead and a couple of sore spots around her stomach, but nothing life threatening - she was used to getting into scraps like that. ---- She'd just been walking along, cigarette hanging lazily from her lips, minding her own business when she heard a woman's voice cry out in distress - probably a lot more shrill to her sensitive ears than it would be to any of the bypassers who seemed to completely ignore the piercing sound. Being the curious cat she was, Traviata had to investigate. A helpless woman {who looked to be a little younger than herself if only just} was being held against a wall in a dark alley, surrounded by three men. One of them was rummaging through her purse, and the others were defiling her in such a way that an innocent woman should never be. She screamed and kicked and fought back, making their jobs a little harder. It bought Travi time. Involving herself where a normal person would know not to, Traviata called out to the men. All three of them looked up to her, and seeing how she was dressed, figured she'd be yet another weak little thing to brand as theirs. The other woman's eyes were huge, filled with fear, and flitted to meet the Ceilican's. One of the men approached her rather quickly, trying to tackle her to the ground. She fought back, giving him a knee to the groin and sending him to the ground. The other men responded and dropped their focus on the innocent woman, giving her time to take off running. Traviata found herself in a sticky spot, but at least the poor thing had gotten away. After a decent grapple with the other two that gave her a knife injury and a blow to the skull, she drew her H&K USP 45 from the inside of her boot and fired a round into the biggest man's gut. She could barely feel the searing pain in her left arm or the throbbing in her skull at that point. They seemed to be down for the count, so she took off running. One of them had given chase to her, but she'd managed to lose them as far as she could tell. ---- She looked over her shoulder once more before pushing off of the wall with a grunt. She wasn't too far from the Rat Pack's headquarters, which would serve as her sanctuary regardless of whether or not the men had continued to follow. She raked a hand through her hair, groaning at the bit of blood that stuck to her palm. "Bastards." She reached into the front of her jacket, digging for her lighter and her cigarettes. Traviata found that her smokes were all but soaked through. She was able to salvage only one, but it was that one that she was grateful for. She pulled it from the package with her lips, flicking her lighter several times before it actually caught. Taking a long drag, she relaxed a bit. Her boots squeaked on the wet pavement of the sidewalk as she finally approached the door. With a thankful groan, she nudged it open with her good shoulder. Her right hand now clutched at the wound on her left arm, hair all askew and dripping around her face. Her makeup, dark around the eyes, was sufficiently smudged. She exhaled a large cloud of smoke as the door closed behind her, her eyes scanning the room. Leaning down, her left hand yanked the gun from its hiding spot. Traviata set it on one of the tables, followed by her battered pack of lost cigarettes and her lighter. The only person she saw was Murphy - which was just fine with her. "Hey," she said quietly, rummaging around the room to look for something to wrap her arm with. Finding nothing, she shrugged, and thudded lazily into the chair across from his. She leaned back, balancing the chair carefully as her legs crossed over each other and rested at the edge of the table. Traviata's hair dripped on the floor, falling away from her face as she looked toward the ceiling and drew another long drag.
Murphy McManus (Neophyte) 04/28/09 04:56 PM 76.214.153.153	Re: What do you do when it rains cats and dogs? [[Traviata]]
	Murphs blew into the part from his gun to blow away some dust before he continued on in cleaning it. He cleaned his weapons quite often, especially after having just been used. It was a ritual sort of thing. When he and Connor would go out and do what they did best (taking down the 'bad guys' of society so nobody else needed to fear them), the two would go home and do their individual thing. For Murphy, that was cleaning all of his weapons with the eyes of a professional. But unfortunately, his obsessiveness about cleaning his weapons also meant that when he was too anxious or hadn't seen any action in a while, he felt t he need to clean them anyway, such as tonight. He placed a piece of his beretta softly back onto the cloth before picking up another one, turning it over in his grease smudged hands and examining it carefully. The click of the door being opened caused his body to tense and his right hand flew to produce a rather large knife that had been sitting on the table in front of him. He spun to face the intruder, but relaxed when he saw the familiar form of Traviata, the Rat Pack's rambunctious little rebel. Murphy tossed the knife back onto the table and picked up the cigarette and let it rest between his lips as he talked. "Travi! You're lucky m'gun's out of commission righ' now. You'da had a bullet right in that pretty little head of yours." It was then that he finally noticed that something was very wrong with her, and he stood up so fast that his chair toppled over backwards. "Christ, girl!" He wiped his dirty hands on his pants, not that it did much to help, and quickly moved over to the small kitchen to retrieve an old dish towel. "What in God's name happened t'you? Was it the feds? Did they follow y'here? Shit, Ivy's going to be sorely pissed if we've gotta up and move this operation again." The fear of being caught by the police had been a very real threat on more than one occasion. Even before he'd become a part of the Rat Pack, Murphs had always been in trouble with the authorities, and the thought of exposing the whole operation and being sent to their deaths was something he did not want to experience. Murphs exhaled a puff of smoke from the cigarette that sat lazily between his lips as he knelt beside her chair and tried to do his best to make sure the wound wouldn't get infected. He dabbed at it with the dish towel, his brows furrowed together in a scowl. "Who did this t'you, love, the bunch of limey bastards." He stood and moved into one of the spare bedrooms where a few medical supplies had been stashed since their last hit. He returned with some gauze and bandages to wrap the wound, but the scowl (or cigarette) never left his lips. "I swear t'God I'll rip 'em apart."
Traviata Guerrini (Neophyte) 04/28/09 07:22 PM 98.228.109.122	Re: What do you do when it rains cats and dogs? [[Traviata]]
	"You'd never hit me, anyway," she grunted, "I'm too fast." Traviata settled herself, clutching her arm, and looked over at him. He was damn quick, always had been, but she'd be able to dodge a bullet he sent flying at her with ease in any event. That wouldn't have surprised her. What did surprise her was how he nearly killed himself jumping up and falling over in concern for her. Her brow knitted together in concern and she pulled her hand away from the wound, sticky with blood. She looked down at it and drew in a sharp breath. "No, not the feds. Keep your pants on. I'm not running from the law right now, and I don't think the bastards followed me," she said. She realized too late that she was probably difficult to understand; when particularly distressed or irritated, she sounded much more Italian in her speech than usual. She drew another puff from her cigarette and exhaled a ring toward the ceiling. "Was just out walking, minding my own business, you know? Heard this crying, this scream. It was a woman... followed it, found some helpless young thing in an alley being all bullied by these three blokes... couldn't just let it happen, not when I was involved, you know? Took them down, but not without a fight." Traviata cringed as he dressed her wound, groaning as her free hand pressed to the lump forming at her hairline just about her right eye. "Got me good, too. Bastards." The Ceilican gave her companion a smile, wincing only slightly as he wrapped her tender arm. "Good luck finding them. I think I lost 'em about a block or two back... No faces I recognized. Got one in the gut with my gun... gave the others a few black eyes and some bruised ribs, but damn, they got me right back." She lifted a hand and drew the cigarette away from her lips for a moment, turning toward him and making eye contact. "Appreciate the medical attention, handsome. Good to know you've got my back."
Murphy McManus (Neophyte) 04/28/09 07:48 PM 76.214.153.153	Re: What do you do when it rains cats and dogs? [[Traviata]]
	Murphy listened to her, but a sense of relief washed over him when she said that it was nothing more than a street scuffle. Granted, she'd been caught with her back turned, it looked like, but it meant that so far no federal agents or big-shot corporations were on to them... yet. He let the cigarette stay on his lips until it was practically smoked down to the filter. He reached up and plucked it from his mouth before snuffing the rest out in the ashtray on the table. The addiction caused his body to crave another one, but his attention was less on himself and more of Travi just then. His hands were stained with splotches of Traviata's blood, but it hardly even phased him. He's had to stitch Connor up almost as many times as his brother had on him, so the sight of blood wasn't something that bothered him. "Always the helpful one, Travi." Murphs stood and moved into the small kitchen to wash his hands before he continued to tend to any open wounds that may get infected. "Y'know what the Father always said. 'We must always fear the wicked, but there is another kind of evil that we must fear the most. That is the indifference of good men'," he shouted from the other room. He reached under the sink and managed to find another towel to help clean her up with. He watched the red liquid ooze down the drain as he washed his hands and wetted the towel a little. Murphs pointed at her accusingly with a smirk as he made his way back out into the main room. "You never could stand by and watch others in pain." Murphy gently pushed her feet off the table and sat in their spot, grabbing the chair between her legs and pulling it a little closer so he could get a look at her forehead. "You also never could stop while you were down." Her grinned at her and dabbed gently at the few small gashes on her face and forehead. He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and tossed the towel over one of his shoulders, placing a hand on either side of her jaw to pull her face forward a little so he could get a better look. "And sit still, would'ya? Worse than Connor, y'are." After applying a butterfly bandage to one of the smaller nicks on her forehead so it could heal properly, Murphy leaned back on the table and gave her a once over. He'd been so caught up in making sure they wouldn't have to pack up and move everything that he hardly noticed her outfit... but now he did, and a very sly and knowing smile curled at his lips. "Oh, I've got you're backside any time, girl.. medical attention or not. It's jus'a matter of who you pissed t'have y'come runnin' t'me." He reached forward and stole the cigarette from her hand, bringing it to his lips to drawl on it for a long moment. He exhaled in a large puff of smoke and a wicked smile. "Not tha' I care who y'come runnin' to."
Traviata Guerrini (Neophyte) 04/28/09 09:13 PM 98.228.109.122	Re: What do you do when it rains cats and dogs? [[Traviata]]
	Traviata couldn't help but smile a bit as Murphy spoke. He had that ability, always cheering her up when she was down. Something about his roughness coupled with the fact that she knew she could rely on him made him easy to be around. She didn't mind having someone to shoot the shit with, either; and he knew all about dressing wounds. Having him there was a pleasant surprise for more than one reason. Ivy probably would've freaked out about her injuries, being high-strung and twitchy as she was, and Connor seemed more the type to take off out the door after the person who'd hurt her than the type to make sure she wasn't going to bleed to death first. Murphy was definitely the best bet out of their little troupe. "Never been much of a church goer, Murphy, you know that," she said, "But whenever you feel like spouting verse at me you go right ahead." Traviata cringed at the thought of the hymns and the bells whose sounds floated about the air on a rather regular basis near the churches and abbeys all around the city; they would strike her deaf were she to hear them. Often she had to carry earmuffs or ear plugs: A secret only she and her sister knew lingered deep within them both; the Yava of the Ceilican was not something to be shared with anyone outside of the circle of Faerie Cats, no matter how close those friends may be. She held herself as still for him as her high-energy little self could handle. "Sorry," she said, giving him a lopsided, sheepish grin. There was no way she could've been worse than Connor McManus. She didn't jump around that much... at least not that she could tell. she looked up at him, eyes semi-crossed, as he held onto her face. She grinned at him as he placed the bandage to her forehead. "Aww, Murphy, I'm hurt! You should know you're the first one I'd come to anyway," Traviata winked as her cigarette was stolen from her. Hopping to her feet, she placed her hands on either side of him on the table, leaning close and smirking. "But since you don't care," she grabbed her cigarette back, turning on her heel and swaggering very slowly, obviously in a joking manner, toward the door, "Might as well find another source of sympathy." She leaned against the wall, her head turned toward him over her shoulder, blowing a smoke ring in his direction.
Murphy McManus (Neophyte) 04/28/09 09:40 PM 76.214.153.153	Re: What do you do when it rains cats and dogs? [[Traviata]]
	Murphs rubbed his hands on the towel that was slung over his shoulder as he looked her over once more. He'd always been a troublemaker, ever since he and Connor were children. Used to drive his mother absolutely up the wall by running off and getting into some kind of trouble, but always with good intentions. Even when he'd come home with black eyes and busted lips, it was all because he'd gotten into a fight trying to help someone or set something straight. As far as he was concerned, even fighting was alright if done for the right reasons. So he'd had his fair share of scuffles, and even had to teach himself the basics of first aid. He didn't have any fancy magic like his brother or parents did, so he couldn't just wave a stick and wish for the best. He had to learn things the hard way, do them hands on and not waiting around for magic to make it better. In a way, it was one of the reasons that kept him from resenting his "magical" brother so much. Murphs felt like he would always be better prepared for anything when he didn't have to rely on a wand. Murphy rubbed his jaw with a smile. "Aye, but maybe if y'went with me'n Connor t'church one of these days you'd stop comin' back here with so many bumps and bruises, girl." He let his eyes wander shameless down her face to her feet and back up again, pausing in all the right places while he whistled low. "But I gotta say, I do like th'look of 'em on you. Y'wear 'em proud, love." She leaned forward and his smile became devious as she snagged the cigarette back from him. She pulled away and began to swagger away from him teasingly slow, and he grabbed her wrist and gave it one firm tug so she'd come back towards him to stand between his legs where he was sitting on the table. His hands found themselves planted firmly on her hips. "Aw, c'mon now, Travi. Give a limey bastard some credit, huh? The Pack'd be quite lonely without you," he said in a low, smooth voice. Reaching up to remove the towel from his shoulder, Murphs tossed it over her still-dripping head and ruffled it playfully in her hair to partly dry it. "Y'best get y'self some dry clothes. Can't have you catchin' a cold, now can we? Ivy would kill me if she knew I wasn't taking proper care of you. D'ya have any spare clothes packed up around here somewhere, Trav? I promise I won't peek."
Traviata Guerrini (Neophyte) 04/28/09 10:17 PM 98.228.109.122	Re: What do you do when it rains cats and dogs? [[Traviata]]
	"I can't set foot in churches, Murphs," she said, her grin fading into a strange look that screamed 'uncomfortable'. It wasn't that she wasn't religious - although she tended to lean more toward a general spirituality that touched into the realm of the Fae rather than something organized by man kind - but the strange ailment that befell her after being in churches, near them, to hear the sounds of hymns being sung, or silver bells ringing... that's what kept her steering clear of the steepled buildings that seemed to draw the McManus twins in so faithfully. She smirked, rolling her eyes at him and making her way toward the door. They flirted upon occasion, but she never did much but tease him. It was like a lovely game of cat and mouse... in which it seemed the cat always won, at least to her. She yelped lightly at the yank on her arm, her eyes lingering on his lips and his face as she was wrenched into a position that pleased him. Traviata smirked, blowing a cloud of smoke right into his face before snuffing out the now-filter-only cigarette in the ashtray behind him on the table. His hands felt nice on her hips. That was something she couldn't deny, but she didn't allow herself to show her enjoyment openly. She continued to play coy: a game at which she never lost. "Oh, I give you plenty of credit, cacasenno*," she grinned almost devilishly. She ducked a bit, but found that she couldn't escape the ruffling of her hair. "'Ey, 'ey!" she batted at his arm, peeking out with one eye covered and sticking her tongue out at him. "What if I like the ones I've got on now, eh?" Traviata stepped back from him, holding her arms out to her sides and giving a light spin before folding them over her chest. "Unless I pop over to my flat, I got nothin' here but this," she said, "You don't have anything laying around I could steal for the time being, do you?" Her smile curled into a sly grin, and she gave him a wink. She imagined he had plenty of clothes laying around that he wouldn't mind sharing, particularly not if the borrower just happened to be her. {{*cacasenno - 'smartass', 'know-it-all'}}
Murphy McManus (Neophyte) 04/28/09 10:41 PM 76.214.153.153	Re: What do you do when it rains cats and dogs? [[Traviata]]
	Murphs couldn't deny that he liked having Traviata so close and practically in his hold. The two flirted shamelessly on and off, and while it hardly went past a few choice words and some close contact, Murphy couldn't help himself when he was around her. Something about her seemed to bring out his inner playboy, his rough possessiveness that played a big part in how he treated her, and in turn, how she treated him. It was a never ending game to them, to see who could make the other one flinch first, or to see how far they could go before crossing the line. To Murphs, winning was one thing, but the adventure of losing was just as enjoyable, at times. Murphy closed his eyes against the smoke that she puffed at him but didn't really move otherwise. To be honest he was comfortable there, sitting on the table with the little Italian tease trapped in his grasp and his gun sitting on the table behind him. The only thing that could have made it better was, well... not going to happen anytime soon, he relented sadly. It wasn't even just about the way she looked at him with those bedroom eyes that caused Murphy to continue the endless game of cat and mouse, it was the chase that he found so thrilling. Even if he came back without a hare danging from his mouth and had nothing to show for it, the exhiliration of the chasing and pinning down the prey was what made it so alluring. She stepped away from him and Murphy leaned forward on his knees to compensate for the distance lost between them. "Sempre così timido, bella*," he responded in perfect Italian. He used to berate his mother for making he and his brother learn so many different languages, but as he grew older he realized it proved useful on many occasions... picking up women being just one of the many versatile uses. Murphy watched her spin fully before standing and moving into one of the spare bedrooms. He practically lived there half the time, so it was plausible to keep extra supplies around, including clothing. "I love the'ones you've got now, but they're soakin' wet and I bet, cold." Murphy returned with a black wifebeater and a pair of old shorts he used to wear for sleeping in. He placed them on the table and leaned up against it. "S'not much, but it'll at least get you out of those ones." He paused to regard her with a sly look before he reached out and snagged her wrist again, dragging her back to where he held her by her hips. "So they can dry, of course." [[*Always so coy, beautiful]]
Traviata Guerrini (Neophyte) 04/28/09 11:07 PM 98.228.109.122	Re: What do you do when it rains cats and dogs? [[Traviata]]
	She loved the way they danced around each other so playfully. It was exciting. Thrilling, even. The adrenaline rush she got just from flirting with Murphy was enough to get her worked up and in a fantastic mood. Traviata looked only mildly surprised when he leaned forward, chuckling at his wonderful Italian skills. She'd always adored the fact that she could speak in her native language around him without worrying, loved the way he understood her. Sometimes it was a nuisance because she couldn't mutter things under her breath - he always knew what she was saying. Every single word. "Ah, me? Coy? Never, Murphy McManus. Never." She gave him an obviously fake innocent smile, batting her eyelashes at him in an adorable way that only someone with the ability to play schoolgirl could. Traviata stepped back further, moving her hands to her hips. "Oh, soaked to the bone and freezing. Nothing I haven't had to deal with before... but if you insist." She waited patiently as he left the room, whistling to herself and drumming her fingers against her own hips. When he returned, she eyed he and the clothes he was holding. As his hands, which she had come to be fascinated with over time in all their roughness, lay the clothes on the table, she couldn't help but smirk. "I appreciate it." Being tugged close to him again was something she didn't expect, but she didn't mind one bit, either. Traviata looked up at him and licked a drip of water from a spot near her mouth as it dripped down her face. "So they can dry," she chuckled, "I'm sure." She leaned up to give him a gentle kiss to the cheek as a means of thanking him before snatching the clothes he'd brought and stepping back from the table. Traviata turned her back to him, unzipping the front of her leather overshirt, letting it thud to the floor, heavy with water. The mesh undershirt was all she had left on her top - Traviata didn't often care for bras, and she didn't much need them, either. She tossed the dry clothes over the back of a chair and smirked, peeking back over her shoulder at him. Wriggling, she grabbed the bottom of the mesh undershirt and peeled it away from her skin, up over her head. The bare skin of her back was damp with the remainder of the raindrops that clung to her. Without a thought, she leaned forward and grabbed the wife beater, stretching as she pulled it on in one swift motion. She leaned down and undid her boots, tossing them toward the door nonchalantly as she went about pulling her skirt and hose off, her back still to Murphy as she tugged the shorts on over her round backside. "These are definitely not made for a woman's figure," she muttered to herself in Italian, still not facing him directly. She wanted to wait and see how he'd react before making another move, after all. That was part of the fun in it all.
Murphy McManus (Neophyte) 04/28/09 11:28 PM 76.214.153.153	Re: What do you do when it rains cats and dogs? [[Traviata]]
	Traviata found herself with Murphy's complete attention at the way she moved, the way she talked, the way her wild hair always seemed to fall so perfectly across her face that it made her look like a wild beast out of it's cage. There was a certain sense of exoticism about the woman that he couldn't quite place, but whatever it was, it made him feel like he was the hound always two steps after the hare. Always running, always chasing, but never having the satisfaction of pinning it in his jaws. With her so close she even smelled exotic, like a rainstorm. It was almost intoxicating. His clear baby blues watched as her tongue darted out teasingly to banish a small droplet of rainwater from her face and his mind gave his imagination a good run thinking of all the things that tongue could also be used for. His fingers tensed around her waist, but she managed to drag herself from his grasp anyway. Murphy had expected her to take the clothes into the bathroom or spare bedroom and change. He had not expected for her to turn it into a strip-tease, not that he minded much. Traviata and he had joked on more than on occasion about the sexual tension between the both of them, they flirted shamelessly whenever they had the chance, and for the time being, Murphy was content with it. But he was not prepared for her to actually come close to breaking him. He knew what she was doing, but his eyes wandered agonizingly slow over her curves and across her milky skin. With each piece of clothing that fell to the ground to be replaced with a new, fresh one, Murphs felt his resolve fading. But he was also stronger than he looked, and he was not going to let her win this one by cracking him first. Two could play at this game. Murphy grunted softly as he jumped up from the table and quickly came up behind Traviata, his hands gripping her upper arms tightly (though careful of her bandaged one). He tilted his head down to her ear, his voice husky but with a hint of the smile that lingered on his lips as he breathed on her neck. "Aye, but I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't like th'look of 'em on you." And it was true. Something about seeing her in his clothes made the teasing so much sweeter. His hands drifted down her arms to rest on her hips again as he stood behind her, head still low with his mouth almost touching where her neck met her shoulder. "What'd I tell you? Much more comfortable out of them freezin' britches..."
Traviata Guerrini (Neophyte) 04/28/09 11:59 PM 98.228.109.122	Re: What do you do when it rains cats and dogs? [[Traviata]]
	A small gasp escaped her lips at the hot breath that tickled her neck. Traviata turned her face toward him, her lids heavy with want as he spoke. "They hug in all the right places, don't they?" she whispered back, her voice low and velvety. The way he spoke so low and rough around her made her knees weak, made her want him more. Still, she fought her desire. This was a game she wanted to win. The way he grabbed her, though... it was hard to resist just jumping on him and knocking him to the floor. She rolled her head back, leaning against his shoulder as his face settled against her. Traviata's hand reached up and tangled in his hair, ruffling it playfully as she rocked back against him a bit more. "Mm, once I get used to the fact that my arse is much rounder than yours and deal with the way your knickers hug me," she said, smirking. Her hands fell to rest on top of his, fingertips gently caressing over the back of his hands. In a daring move, she dug her nails gently into the flesh of his arms, dragging them upward a bit before settling her hands back on top of his gently. Her fingers found the familiar spot where his tattoo lay, and without need to look, traced over it. "You're right about that, though... very comfortable. You know... I bet they're even more comfortable... on you..." she murmured, snaking her tongue out to dart by his earlobe quickly. He wasn't going to win. She wasn't going to let him. But it was getting more and more difficult by the moment.
Murphy McManus (Neophyte) 04/29/09 12:19 AM 76.214.153.153	Re: What do you do when it rains cats and dogs? [[Traviata]]
	Murphy's lips curled into a wickedly cruel smile when he heard her gasp softly against his lips. She was cracking, he could feel it, but he didn't know how much longer he could hold out against her. It had already gone farther than it ever had before. The sultry glances, the playful slips of the hand, the witty banter... it was all the steps in their elaborate dance to tease the other one mercilessly into wanting the other, but to actually have her there in front of him wearing hardly anything and tasting so sweet? Murphy hadn't predicted his lazy evening would end up like this. She spun and Murphs was pleased to see that she didn't pull away immediately this time. Instead, she leaned into him and changed the course of the game completely. He'd been doing so well holding up his end of the wall while things were in his control, but suddenly having her in charge and playing with her set of rules wasn't an unpleasant experience either. Her fingers tangled in his already tousled hair and his grip tightened around her waist as he grunted softly against her neck. It took all his willpower to keep himself from just throwing her between a wall and himself and showing her that he called the shots. But they'd been playing the game for so long that Murphs refused cave to her... at least, not completely. When her nails found his flesh, Murphy grunted again against his slowly disappearing resolve. To counter, his lips finally found gold on the skin of her neck and they curled into a grin against it. "Don't wear 'em to bed, bella." His teeth nipped at the skin of her collarbone as one hand snaked around to rest on her lower back, the other one finding firm placement on her ass. He nipped at her skin again, this time a little more dominating. "Find anythin in bed too... constricting." The last word he emphasized by whispering it gruffly in her ear as his hand gave her buttocks a tight squeeze.
Traviata Guerrini (Neophyte) 04/29/09 12:59 AM 98.228.109.122	Re: What do you do when it rains cats and dogs? [[Traviata]]
	Her head rolled back more and a low groan rumbled up from her throat and flew through parted lips before she was able to stop it. Traviata's mind flashed through all of the possibilities of the things that could happen from the present situation. "I don't wear anything to bed," she purred in return, another groan escaping her mouth as she felt his teeth on her skin. They weren't too rough, but they weren't too gentle, either... the Italian woman's blood boiled with desire. She didn't know how much longer she could play this game before just snapping and tackling her companion to the ground. Murphy's hands were so strong and rough against her; it made her legs tremble. She pushed her ass back against his hand a bit, biting her bottom lip and exhaling a low, breathy moan at the contact. It seemed as if he were almost ordering her to strip herself down to nothing in front of him. If he kept this up much longer, she might just be forced to. She moaned against his ear as his hand squeezed the soft flesh of her round ass, whispering back, "Maybe I like being constricted, though..." With a sly smirk, she pulled her head back a bit and made eye contact with him. Traviata's eyes twinkled mischievously for a moment, keeping his beautiful blue in the sight of her honey-brown's. She leaned forward slowly, dragging her lips along the gruff stubble on his chin before slowly pushing against his for a kiss. Never before had their teasing, their games, gone to such a level. She had to admit that finally kissing him was like some sort of massive release for her. Her heart hammered in her chest as she edged closer to him, pressing her lips more forcefully against his, her tongue darting out and skating across them. Her hands came to rest at the back of his neck, fingers tangling in that unruly mess of hair she'd grown to find so incredibly alluring.
Murphy McManus (Neophyte) 04/29/09 01:04 AM 76.214.153.153	Re: What do you do when it rains cats and dogs? [[Traviata]]
	[[Continuing in a more discreet location ;)]]