She actually snorts and comes forward to kiss him again, bunching his shirt at his shoulder up in her fist. Faye, on the contrary, is nothing if not aggressive, but there are things about her that force her to be unsure, namely the fact that she's been dicked over so many times in the past by other men. But she does trust Frederick, even though he's historically skipped out of town twice now, even though she can sense that simmering just beneath the surface. She trusts him enough to twist when he touches her.
When she pulls back, Faye makes sure she's far enough away to be able to think coherently and without too much distraction. Unconsciously, she licks her lips, and tastes the drink and cigarettes. "Is that a challenge?" she asks, but she's already sliding out from between Frederick and the window, but not before giving him one more kiss, just because, sometimes, she can't stop herself.
She wonders where she put the aloe because after being pressed up against the glass like that and with his arms so close around her, aloe would be amazing right now.
He doesn't so much let go of her when she slinks away as lets his hands slide over her as she moves, watching her with that intensity still. He wants her, but he'd never pressure her in any way, though he'll rile her like this if he can. Because how is he supposed to pretend he's not as deeply attracted to her as he is?
He picks up the glass - thankfully there's no shards, just two large broken pieces - and leaves it forgotten on the table before following her.
There's a pile of her things on the other side of the low dresser that she actually just kicks through briefly, looking for a bright green bottle. So she's a little sloppy - can you fault her? And though she's digging through some things with particular interest, it isn't as if she's not paying any attention to Frederick whatsoever. That would be an impossibility, she's discovered, no matter how hard she tried.
"You don't sound very convinced," she says, crouched down next to the headboard now, going through the large bag they'd toted to the beach everyday. Success! "The first thing you've gotta realize about a challenge is that you need to be, you know, into it." Faye stands and tosses the plastic bottle at him without warning. "You can't be all laid back and apathetic."
There's a teasing tone in her voice, though some of that intensity from before has carried over as well.
He's already just in a button-up t-shirt and jeans, and he crawls onto the bed on the opposite side of her, catching the bottle easily. As if he saw it coming.
For a moment she just scowls. Faye doesn't like being ordered around to do anything, no matter how benign the task. But considering what was happening just a moment ago, watching him crawl onto the bed makes her brain fizz out and so she just smirks and does as she's told.
"Yes, sir," she says, very, very mockingly, flopping down and sliding across the bed. Faye doesn't even bother sitting. She just stretches horizontally along the middle of the bed close to him and pillows her head on her hands, looking up at him as if to say 'now what?'
"There's a good girl," he says, and it's nearly a purr, but it's quiet and said as he leans forward to give her a kiss. He's teasing, of course, in response to her little quip. He kisses along her shoulder, and the center of her back, before moving and straddling her hips - he does not sit on her, of course.
Because he doesn't want to stain his shirt cuffs, he loses the shirt all together - though she can't see, she can probably hear his shifting and guess. Gently, and after warming the cool lotion a bit in his hands, he gets to work.
A good girl? "You're the dog," she says, looking across the room and out the window, at the skyline, "not me." But there's something weighted and hot that settles in her stomach anyway. The kiss to her shoulder and back, respectively, give her goosebumps, if only because the skin there is still tender. It'd be no different if she were getting under the covers, the sheets cool against her skin. That's totally it, she thinks, rearranging herself a bit as he takes off his shirt - or so she suspects.
The first touch makes her squirm a little, because it is still cool, but it feels nice after that initial second, even if there are still goosebumps all up and down her arms and over her shoulder blades. Faye keeps her eyes closed for some time, before she turns head and pressing her mouth against her shoulder. It's difficult to see him this way, but she still watches him, the moment stretching. "Not half-bad," she says, voice muffled by her skin.
"I know," he says, though whether it's about him being a dog or if he isn't half-bad, it's not clear. It's quickly turning into a massage, though he's careful over the sensitive burned areas.
He pauses to lean down and kiss her temple, and nuzzles softly.
"Do you like Singapore?" he asks when he's sat back up, voice soft.
Maybe, just maybe, this was her angle all along. And maybe, just maybe, she'll return the favor later, when he's finished and she isn't melting all over the duvet. He's sweet, and she has to admit it to herself, and no one has ever been sweet to her and it makes her stomach clench and her face feel warm in a way that is not entirely unpleasant at all.
Faye smiles, unguarded, defenses distinctly down, and says, "It's not the one I'm from." But there's no distant bitterness there. She accepts that she's from a million places, and this is one of them, now. "But it's not so bad. I like the city. It's a hell of a lot better than it was the last time I came." There's a pointed look at him when she says this, but she's still smiling. If she could reach him from this angle, she would. "What about you?"
"It's as beautiful and multifaceted as you are," he says, hands working lower, seeking out any little bits of tension along her spine and lower back and working them away. "It's modern and traditional. It's the sort of walking contradiction I enjoy."
He runs his hands up her back, to her neck. She always carries herself so tall, and he looks for any tension there... he notices her smile, and returns it.
She rolls her eyes lazily, angling her head down a little so he can get at her neck. "Because you are that kind of a walking contradiction?" she asks playfully, speaking more into the comforter so that her words are slightly muffled again.
Faye shivers, but it's not because of her burnt skin this time. "If this is your idea of interrogation," she begins to point out, since she needs some control back, here, "it's pretty much terrible."
He keeps on, because touching her like this is really, really good. As are her reactions. She shivers, and he runs his hands up her arms, squeezing lightly over her muscles there before moving back down to attend to her shoulders again.
"Ah, but I've tricked you, you see. My apologies."
Faye sits up. Or at least, she sits up as well as she can with him hovering behind her, which isn't sitting up very well at all but, rather, raising up on her arms, elbows braced against the bed. She still can't turn her head very well, but she looks over her shoulder again, this time with a glare.
"Dick," she says, very Serious Business. Now she'll have to plot real revenge instead of small things like sleeping in only a t-shirt.
"Oi, don't go tensing up after all that," he chastises gently, teasing. He's trying not to laugh, but it's not really working: he's got a smile on his face, and his eyes reflect it.
Even though she'd likely get more flustered if she ever heard that particular thought of his, the reaction she gets out of him is one of her favorites and any irritation, fabricated or otherwise, dissipates almost immediately. But she still has to keep up appearances so she rolls her shoulders - which feel delightfully not-tense - and then tries getting out from underneath him, squirming.
When she pulls back, Faye makes sure she's far enough away to be able to think coherently and without too much distraction. Unconsciously, she licks her lips, and tastes the drink and cigarettes. "Is that a challenge?" she asks, but she's already sliding out from between Frederick and the window, but not before giving him one more kiss, just because, sometimes, she can't stop herself.
She wonders where she put the aloe because after being pressed up against the glass like that and with his arms so close around her, aloe would be amazing right now.
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He picks up the glass - thankfully there's no shards, just two large broken pieces - and leaves it forgotten on the table before following her.
"...It might be."
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"You don't sound very convinced," she says, crouched down next to the headboard now, going through the large bag they'd toted to the beach everyday. Success! "The first thing you've gotta realize about a challenge is that you need to be, you know, into it." Faye stands and tosses the plastic bottle at him without warning. "You can't be all laid back and apathetic."
There's a teasing tone in her voice, though some of that intensity from before has carried over as well.
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He smirks faintly.
"Come sit down."
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"Yes, sir," she says, very, very mockingly, flopping down and sliding across the bed. Faye doesn't even bother sitting. She just stretches horizontally along the middle of the bed close to him and pillows her head on her hands, looking up at him as if to say 'now what?'
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Because he doesn't want to stain his shirt cuffs, he loses the shirt all together - though she can't see, she can probably hear his shifting and guess. Gently, and after warming the cool lotion a bit in his hands, he gets to work.
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The first touch makes her squirm a little, because it is still cool, but it feels nice after that initial second, even if there are still goosebumps all up and down her arms and over her shoulder blades. Faye keeps her eyes closed for some time, before she turns head and pressing her mouth against her shoulder. It's difficult to see him this way, but she still watches him, the moment stretching. "Not half-bad," she says, voice muffled by her skin.
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He pauses to lean down and kiss her temple, and nuzzles softly.
"Do you like Singapore?" he asks when he's sat back up, voice soft.
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Faye smiles, unguarded, defenses distinctly down, and says, "It's not the one I'm from." But there's no distant bitterness there. She accepts that she's from a million places, and this is one of them, now. "But it's not so bad. I like the city. It's a hell of a lot better than it was the last time I came." There's a pointed look at him when she says this, but she's still smiling. If she could reach him from this angle, she would. "What about you?"
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He runs his hands up her back, to her neck. She always carries herself so tall, and he looks for any tension there... he notices her smile, and returns it.
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Faye shivers, but it's not because of her burnt skin this time. "If this is your idea of interrogation," she begins to point out, since she needs some control back, here, "it's pretty much terrible."
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He keeps on, because touching her like this is really, really good. As are her reactions. She shivers, and he runs his hands up her arms, squeezing lightly over her muscles there before moving back down to attend to her shoulders again.
"Ah, but I've tricked you, you see. My apologies."
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Well, that's nice.
Faye sits up. Or at least, she sits up as well as she can with him hovering behind her, which isn't sitting up very well at all but, rather, raising up on her arms, elbows braced against the bed. She still can't turn her head very well, but she looks over her shoulder again, this time with a glare.
"Dick," she says, very Serious Business. Now she'll have to plot real revenge instead of small things like sleeping in only a t-shirt.
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You're cute when you're angry.
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Even though she'd likely get more flustered if she ever heard that particular thought of his, the reaction she gets out of him is one of her favorites and any irritation, fabricated or otherwise, dissipates almost immediately. But she still has to keep up appearances so she rolls her shoulders - which feel delightfully not-tense - and then tries getting out from underneath him, squirming.
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"I think that counts as domestic violence, darling."
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