(Untitled)

[twiststheblade]

from hereMiho leads Red in through the main door of the brothel suite, unlocking it, and re-locking it behind them. She leads the slightly taller redhead across the elegantly appointed room, and into one of the bedrooms. The largest, of course

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[wolfskincoat]

Red brings up painted red nails to brush under Miho's hair as she returns the kiss and smiles, having glances around the room while her hostess was locking the door.

"Nice place."

[twiststheblade]

"It's fantastic. The woman who helped Lilly with the decorating is trained in this sort of thing - she's a Companion, kinda like a geisha, only. . . more so."

She dims the lights slightly, and backs Red towards the bed.

"Make yourself at home. Want a drink?"

[wolfskincoat]

"You know me far too well."

Red backs slowly, her hands lightly on Miho's hips, purse and coat over her forearm. When her bare heel touches the bed, she steals another kiss.

"What do you have?"

[twiststheblade]

Can a kiss be stolen if it's happily given?

Miho takes the coat and purse, dropping them neatly, with her own light jacket, over the back of a chair. Red might know her style well enough to hthink it odd that she's wearing long sleeves. Or not.

She opens a dark wood cabinet against one wall, taking out a pair of squat tumblers. "I'd make you a cocktail, but we're not really set for that in here. Whiskey - there's a Bruichladdich open - uh, vodka, ooh," he trusn with a grin, glass decanter in one hand. "Port."

[wolfskincoat]

Red sits elegantly on the edge of the bed, keeping her heels on and leaning back against the heels on her hands, running fingers along the bedding.

"Port sounds just the thing."

[twiststheblade]

"Port it shall be, then." She returns the tumblers to the shelf, picks up a pair of balloon glasses, then thoughtfully puts one back. After washing the bottom inch or so of the glass with the port, she returns, handing it to Red with a sweet smile.

"What sort of music would you like?"

[wolfskincoat]

She archs her back as her weight shifts forward to free up a hand to accept the drink, swirling it thoughtfully as she inhales and sips. "Very nice.

"I have no preference, darling. Why don't you choose it?"

[twiststheblade]

"Okay."

Miho eyes her for a moment, before heading for a small and very advanced music system built into one wall. She flicks buttons for a moment - this thing had taken her long enough to learn to use, she might as well get some use out of it - before turning back. A low bass line thrumms out of speakers artfully concealed, before building up. Not too loud, but not entirely quiet. Deep, smoky, pulse-rate jazz.

She closes her eyes for a moment, and when she opens them an odd look flits across her face for a moment - almost resignation. Then she closes her eyes again, and now she's every girl who ever danced in a dark, smoky hall, took off her clothes for strangers.

[wolfskincoat]

Red closes her own eyes and inhales deeply, humming in approval at the music. One bare calf slides up the other and crosses at the knee and the green flash open again to watch.

[twiststheblade]

Normally the clothes would have been coming off by now, but. . .

Weapons first.

It is possible to make an erotic show of removing knives strapped to ones person. There's one at her hip, one at her thigh, one in her boot, and one at the small of her back. One one each forearm too, but those are under her shirt.

The straps are undone slowly, the knives discarded.

[wolfskincoat]

Red tosses her hair back, letting the ends brush her bare shoulders just below the necktie of her own backless dress as she tilt her head, studying the show with a small smile.

[twiststheblade]

She's still dancing - it's hard to see where a sway ends and a purposeful move that flicks a catch or undoes a button begins. Her hair is hanging over her face, and her hips are swaying to that primal beat.

Her shirt is hanging open now, and she drops her hands behind her, back arched, letting it pool to the floor. Her jeans hang a little lower on her hips than usual, the crest of her hipbones casting a sharp shadow, as do the lines of her ribs. She looks almost sculptural in the low light.

Perfect, aside from the fact that her skin is marred by a mirian of cuts. Long, sweeping slashes for the most part, down her arms, belly, across her chest, even a few running down her neck.

[wolfskincoat]

A solitary carefully drawn eyebrow raised and the redhead leans forward, resting elbow against knee, chin on curled knuckles and eyes following the sinously grace intently.

The appreciative smile never once falters.

[twiststheblade]

That's alright then. Miho was watching Red closely through her hair, and now she takes a step forwards, then another, then another, until she's twisting close enough to touch.

One hand flips open the top few buttons of her black jeans and slips a little inside, the other runs down her body from neck to hip and back up, slowly. Her head falls to the side, lips parted, and her hair slips back over her shoulder.

Deep black eyes hold vibrant green ones, and Miho smiles, lazily.

[wolfskincoat]

The smile is returned as that delicate Red head slides back to manage a better look. After another sip of port, her free hand reaches out to touch Miho's waist lightly, nails playing against the scarred skin.

[twiststheblade]

Miho laughs, low in her throat, and the muscles of her belly ripple under taut skin.

"Normally," husky, "there's a no touching rule."

Her hand skims lightly over Red's wrist, before her thumb hook into the belkt-loops on her jeans.

"I think I can make an exception."