(2018-12-01) Sparks and Cigarettes
Some Mature Content. All that flirting and teasing had to culminate eventually, right?

The Winchester was situated Downtown. Her place wasn't too far from it, but she was not going to ruin her chances of getting laid for the first time in almost 4 years by bringing Anthony to her place. It's not that Esme was ashamed of her occult decorum. She quite loved it. However, she knew not everyone did and she didn't want to scare him off. So she had conjured up a plausible excuse as to why her place wasn't suitable and besides didn't a hotel room add a little something to the whole situation?

They were barely inside the room before Esme boldly (or bravely?) gripped Anthony's shirt and pulled him in to her, pressing her lips to his in a deep kiss. The very faint taste of the Mango Lassi lingering on her lips. She never did things like this. Obviously. If she did it wouldn't have taken 4 years to get in this kind of situation. Her hand releasing his shirt so both of them could start working on the buttons of his ridiculous shirt.

They had agreed to rent a hotel room, which wasn't abnormal and didn't take much convincing or reasoning enough for Anthony to think much of the situation and he graciously paid for the accommodations.

Though when her hands gripped at his shirt he was taken aback for a momentary lapse, though was brought back to life by Esme's lips against his own which he was equal parts passionate and enthusiastic about. The mango made his senses dance with anticipation, and just as he was about to grab her hands away from his shirt, she thankfully released them herself.

When it became apparent she was still going to work at his shirt, he laughed, soft, and low, near inaudible, "Stop, stop…" he ushered her with his voice low between them, "I like ya's, this is gonna' happen, a'right? Just eh…" he cleared his throat, holding her hands in place so they couldn't continue, his pale green eyes staring down at her, "Just…work on your shirt and sit on the bed, I'll deal wit' my shirt and eh…we can go from there, a'right?"

It was strange, and Tony knew it, but he had his reasons, though the gentle smile and soft laugh afterward told her he knew it, "I know, just, trust me, a'right?"

Her cheeks flushed red again as he stopped her. "Sorry, I'm sorry." She murmured, embarrassed ever so slightly. It wasn't like she was some teenage girl and this was her first rodeo, so to speak. She exhaled slowly, and took a step back from him. It was very apparent that part of her wanted to flee even has he held her hands and spoke to her. Finally daring to look back up at him and taking another deep breath and forcing herself to relax. "…I like you too."

Another step back was taken from him, letting her hands slip away. "God you must think.." She started and then stopped, shaking her head and offering him a smile. Sure, what he was proposing was a little strange but it wasn't all bad. Logically, taking things slower made much more sense. Sometimes logic didn't always win though. Esme took a seat on the bed, watching him for a moment longer before she started to lift off her turtleneck. Which revealed a white tank top that came off next. Her movements were slower in doing this, relaxing a little more.

With the tank top removed, her torso would only be covered by a lacy black bra and he would see hints on her sides of ink that must be part of her back tattoo.

Her words got a smile from Anthony, "Good." he replied to the mention that she liked him as well, though when she started her next string and cut it short, he simply smirked and shook his head. "Don't think so much about it" he assured her and worked his fingertips at the pearlized buttons of his shirt, which snapped crisply apart all the way down before pulling out the tails of the blouse from his jeans with a stern tug and then pulled them open with a series of pops.

His eyes watched Esme, studying her moves as she lifted her turtleneck away, he traced the very curvature of her body while she did, taking in everything from the color of her skin to the presence of blushing or gooseflesh. Though as he peeled his own shirt away, it became more apparent as to his reasons for the separation.

Falling away from his torso revealed a well kept and healthy musculature, though one of a natural and laborious usage rather than one found in a gym, though that was not the interesting part. Wrapped around his torso like the presence of a plunging V-neck tank top was a nearly skin-tight article of clothing that contained a vented pocket on either side of his ribs, one of which had the noticeable faint outline of a bulge. His hands raised with open palms, "Don't freak out…" he assured her, and with one hand remaining in that 'everything is fine' posture, he slipped his other into the ribside compartment of his undershirt and produced a Glock 26 pistol from within.

His hands were deft and knowledgeable, and in a single motion he both pressed the magazine release, dropping what appeared to be a fully loaded magazine from the weapons base and caught it with his free hand, placing it against the side of the firearms grip and taking two steps back to place them atop the hotel rooms entertainment shelf next to the TV. His next action was a swift rack of the slide that projected an unfired bullet into the air that he caught and sat upright next to the magazine on the shelf, placing the weapon down.

"Now…" he began, taking a deep breath, he peeled the undershirt off and over his head to reveal his ruggedly furred upper chest and torso, a tattoo on his left pectoral and one on his right arm - she would certainly in a moment discover that much like her, he sported one on his back, "Now it's hands free" he grinned and stepped toward her.

The flush on her cheeks faded as the seconds passed, her breathing evening out as she did what he suggested and try not to think about it. Her gaze flickered back to him, studying him as he disrobed. The slightly cooled air of the room did send a small shiver through her when she was in naught but her bra, goosebumps rising along her arms momentarily.

Those stormy blue eyes widened, not when the skin tight article was revealed, but when the gun was. No normal investor carried a gun around with them…right? That wasn't something you did, or maybe the New York market was really cutthroat. A laugh escaped her, barely audible at that thought. Esme wasn't stupid, after their first couple conversations she had picked up that something was just a little off. She just didn't know what. Technically, Esme supposed she still didn't know. The presence of the gun just confirmed her suspicions. Talk about concealed carry. Through it all, she remained quiet, mildly impressed by how skilled he was handling the weapon - though there was no way she was going to tell him that.

Instead, her gaze drifted to his tattoos. The same ones she had likely seen in that picture he had sent her last night. But seeing them up close and in person was different. When he stepped towards her, she finally rose up to meet him. "You know, " Her voice quiet, fingers of one hand coming up to lightly trace over the tattoo on his pectoral muscle, "I should just turn tail and run after seeing that…but it only makes me more curious." Head tilting to look up at him finally.

He was not a stupid man. He knew that the removal of his firearm likely raised some questions, though he was also a man who didn't find himself beholden to answer many unless he absolutely wanted to. His two step length stride was slow, and gave her all the time she needed to process what had just happened. All the while those pale green eyes watched her - it would be easy to suggest they watched like a hawk does a valley, though it would more appropriately be described as the way a lion watches a gazelle in an open field.

"Yeah…?" he asked her quietly as she mentioned that she should run, his lips parting into a cockeyed smirk that threatened to reveal his teeth if he went any further. Despite her words, his hands moved upward and the calluses of his fingertips brushed against the seam between the fabric of her jeans and the flesh of her abdomen, they lightly glided over her skin like a boat skipping over the wake of an ocean, and they ever so gradually worked their way up her sides.

"Well…" his eyes looked down at hers as hers looked up at him, "You know where the door is…" he said, licking his lips briefly as they found themselves dry with the rising heat of the moment, "…but I might have to chase you" he teased her, and as he said that, it went from simply his fingertips, to the entire palms of his hands on her sides, the warmth of them against her and he moved them upward, one shifting behind her back where he caught the base of her bra strap with a single finger, cocking his head aside, he finally broke into a grin, "Last chance to run away…"

There would be questions, but now wasn't the time to ask them. There was plenty of time to ask later on. "Mmhm…" Her touch was light as a feather, trailing from the tattoo, running through the hair on his chest. Her fingers heading downward while his own headed up. Another shiver running up her spine at his touch. A bit of a smile formed on her features as he claimed she knew where the door was. It was exciting, in a way. Knowing he was dangerous (because anyone who handled a gun like that had to be, right?) and thinking about how it was possible for this dangerous man to have such light touch of his own.

His finger found the back of her strap and she hooked a finger into one of his belt loops, lips close to his ear as she spoke, brushing against his skin now and again. "As much fun as it would be to have you chasing me down, I don't want to run right now." A kiss was pressed to his neck then, followed by the faintest of nips as her other hand finally came to settle on his waist. Meeting his eyes again, another shallow breath was taken in, anticipating what was to come. A playful tug given to his belt loops, pulling him closer with a grin of her own.

"Good…because I don't want to chase you" Anthony replied and the tantalizing close distance standoff of the explosions that were about to start finally ended with her kiss at his neck, and her hands pulling him closer. He dipped his head, craning his neck to bring his firm lips against her own. The first kiss was soft, light, it was the twitching bait to the hungry fish and he nipped her bottom lip softly, pulling back to allow his green eyes to gaze over her features and watch her for only the briefest moment before returning to sate his own rampant thirst. He kissed her, and he did it with a fiery passion, capturing her lips deep into an embrace.

Simultaneously with his deep kiss, the same deftness the man displayed with his firearm was expressed physically against the defense of Esme's bra which he unclasped with a single pinching motion of the fingertips of one hand, freeing it from retention. Her bra undone, both his hands brushed over her shoulders and hooked his fingertips under the straps of it, slipping it down her arms.

Esme pressed into the light kiss, returning it. When he pulled back to look at her, he could see the desire rising in her gaze. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her and when that second kiss came, the floodgates were opened. She deepened the kiss, feeding off his hunger, his passion. There was an urgency to it, her tongue coming out to tease against his bottom lip as if seeking entrance. Her fingers were starting to undo the button of his jeans when he undid her bra. She quickly finished the button before moving her hands to allow the bra to slide off. Her smooth, pale skinned torso now fully exposed to him.

She took another step back towards the bed, pulling him along with her by the belt loops. Her lungs were starting to burn but she didn't want to stop kissing him. Unfortunately, air was important, so the kiss was broken if only for a short moment so Esme could drawn in a breath. Another grin was flashed to him as she started to slowly slide down his zipper. She didn't start to push his pants down though. Instead, one arm slid up for her hand to grip his hair lightly and the other rested back on his chest as her lips found his for another passionate kiss.

Her lips were fire and Anthony wanted to be burned alive in them. Her tongue met little to no resistance as his own danced from his mouth to tease at her own. Alas. Oxygen was indeed a cruel and yet necessary commodity. Though it did give him a wonderful opportunity to survey the beautiful scenery produced by her bare torso which brought forth a grinning look of appreciation as he captured his bottom lip in a sort of delighted form of anticipation. While her hands worked at his pants, his own had found their way up her body and cupped the tender globes of her breasts, squeezing snugly as he leaned to kiss below her ear at the hinge of her jaw, nipping softly at her earlobe - while her fingers entangled themselves in his hair he pulled back to engage in another kiss.

His tongue was on the prowl this time and it darted from between his lips immediately to trace along her own to display his intent, and his hands drifted from her chest down to her waist where they worked at unfastening her jeans.

His hands cupping and squeezing at her breasts, which seemed to fit quite nicely in his grasp, elicited a moan from her when combined with his nipping and kissing along the sensitive path of her jaw and ear lobe. Was it possible to enjoy kissing someone so much? Esme still chalked it up to it just being forever as her lips parted easily to accept his tongue. Her tongue tangled with his, exploring without reserve, enjoying the taste of him. She gave it a few more moments before her hands finally fell back to his pants. Her hips shifted her and there to aid him in his own venture of undoing her jeans.

She pulled from the kiss just enough to capture his bottom him between her teeth lightly, eyes bright as she looked up at him again. One more step taken towards the bed, her legs brushing up just barely against it. Her heart beat picked up just a tick as that anticipation continued to build. Thoughts of all the various things that were potentially in their future fueld the passionate, needful kiss she wrapped him up in as she slowly started to push his pants down over his hips.


The air of the hotel room of the Winchester that had been procured by way of Anthony's pocket cash earlier in the evening after a lovely night out with Esme to the local Christmas rodeo had started as a nice, well kept room that was formidable when compared to the average hotel room. It no longer bore that distinction. The decorative topper of the bed had been cast aside at some point and found itself now on the floor, cast aside and trampled on, though looked as if at one point it may had even been used as a makeshift floor mattress. At least one pillow was significantly out of place and laid at the foot of the bed, no doubt used for some sort of positioning apparatus for someone's hips or back. There were a series of clothes strewn about haphazardly and it was fairly certain that a black bra had wound up draped over the television. The air in the room was hot, bordering on that of humid and it bore an acrid tone of what those who have experienced it know as sex - and to others, it just smelled…weird.

Lying beneath the thin fabric of what was once just the top sheet was the, still quite naked figure of Anthony, one arm tucked behind his head and the other extended beneath Esme's head and used as a makeshift pillow. It wasn't quite cuddling, but it certainly wasn't a 'your money is on the dresser' His pale green eyes stared up at the ceiling and his chest rose and fell with the deep breaths of a man who had just physically exerted himself, though the smug smile on his face suggested he was quite content to do so and the room was silent with the afterglow of their exploits. "Wow…" he muttered, his voice hoarse and still husky with the strain of the desire.

You know how when you experience something after so long without it and then wonder how you even got by? That's part of what Esme was going through in the afterglow of what had to be the absolute best roll in the hay she'd ever had. Her whole body still felt like it was vibrating. They must have christened nearly every spot in the room except for the bathroom, but Esme had a mental note to take care of that. She felt like she needed a cigarette. Like something out of a movie. The thought struck her so suddenly that she started giggling, turning on her side as he murmured. Her long blonde hair a tangled, wild mess, propping her head up in her hand, elbow resting on the other side of his arm as she scooted just a little closer.

"Wow is right." She breathed, her free arm draping over his torso. She was completely satisfied and more relaxed than she'd been in a while. "You are…fantastic Anthony." She finally settled on, leaning in to steal one more light kiss. Her eyes drifted down over his tattoos again, hand that was on his torso shifting so she could trace over the one on his chest again. Famiglia. It was a simple enough word to decipher without much aid. Family. Looking back up at him, she smiled again. "Do you have a big family?" A curious question, but not completely random with her having been taking the time to look over the tattoos.

His breath was heavy, but it was a contented heavy. His lips pecked against hers in return of the light kiss and he smiled, turning his eyes toward her with ease with the sort of glaze a man got when his mind was altogether present, and not at the same time. "Huh..?" he half grunted, glancing toward his chest where her hand laid, "Oh…" he nodded slightly, "Yeah. Yeah you'se could say that…" he muttered, his head falling back down into his hand with a heavy exhale, "I'm…t'is sounds fuckin' stupid, but…" he squinted his eyes, looking toward her, "I kinda wanna' fuckin' cigarette. That's like some shit outta' a fuckin' movie, right?" he laughed.

She shifted, moving to straddle him. Nothing sexually charged, though he had find out she was quite the tease. It was only to reach over to where his shirt had landed that held his cigarettes and lighter, dragging it up and laying it over his chest with another giggle. "I had the same damn thought. I mean. I know I quit, but jesus you're like…mmm." A little shiver ran through her and she grinned. "I'll share one with ya…if you want. I've been good for four years, I don't think a few drags is gonna send me spiraling." Her natural accent slipping back into play some with her mind still being in a bit of a lustful haze. Lingering on him a moment and then slowly sliding off, back to her spot beside him. "I'm not gonna lie, I think you're the best I've had." Completely serious, though she quirked a smirk. "But I promise I'm not gonna be all clingy and crazy over it."

Her intent may not have been sexual, but there's some things a man can't ignore, and an attractive woman straddling him atop a bed with a head of hair that had been shaken and disheveled from the copious amounts of sex they just had is certainly one of them, at least for Mr. Anthony Malone. As Esme climbed atop him, he groaned, his eyes tracing the silhouette of her frame shadowed by the overhead light and he helplessly run his hand over her stomach and up her torso, cupping one of her breasts with a needful squeeze, "Fuck you're beautiful" he commented and then it was back to the task at hand - nicotine. "Sharin' a smoke sounds wonderful" he replied and took out his lighter and cigarettes.

He plucked a single cigarette from the pack and tossed the rest atop the bedside table, leaning toward her, he held the cigarette by its tip and bobbed the filter in front of her face, he nipped at her bottom lip with a grin, "Come…get…it" he drew out the words and slowly brushed the filter against her lip, "Wrap those sexy lips around it and suck, baby" he couldn't help but laugh a little bit, but flicked open his lighter in preparation for her taking the smoke.

She leaned into his touch, a contented little sigh as he felt her up. Looking down at him, biting her lip lightly in a way that gave off a bit of an innocent look. "You're pretty handsome yourself." She grinned then. Once she was settled beside him again and he took the cigarette out, another giggle escaped with the filter tease. The craving for the nicotine was strong and it only took a moment before she slowly worked her lips over the filter, winking as she pulled back, plucking the stick from his lips and tilted her head towards the lighter, pointer and middle finger coming up to catch it in between. One it was lit she took a long, slow hit, exhaling the smoke towards the ceiling, savoring it. "Mmhm. This is the perfect icing to a perfect cake." She mused, handing it over to him.


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