Chapter 45.
I feel better. My shoulder is bound in a sling, since Kitty seems adamant every time I go to pick something up with that hand. It's really rather frustrating, but I suppose I am thankful it is not my dominant hand, otherwise, I would not be able to add to my notes.
Be that as it may, it's really frustrating to have one hand when it comes to other things.
I mean, you'd be surprised, busy as I was in London, but for some reason I always seemed to have enough time to allow a bit of flirting. Oh, but I was the talk of society. I could have any girl, they just threw themselves at me, you realise. And I damn well almost did, if it were not for reputation. A bit of stolen kisses here or there, typically because they were under the slight influence of alcohol and I was much too polite to take advantage of the situation.
...but there was that Jane Farrar.
God, she was... Cold. Calculating. Somewhat of a bitch, really. But I'm not going to lie and say she wasn't beautiful, but there was something elegantly cruel about her. She used a Glamour on me, you know, tried to seduce me so many times. I suppose there was magic to her scent, the way she looked, words that sounded more than what they were to my ears, and... Once, in my study... It went beyond discussion. Beyond her magic, and into her almost success at ensnaring me. God, but her kisses... her hands. Whispered words and she knew just what to do to make me want her so damn much and--
Then the spell broke. Didn't speak to her for days. That was it, until I came to the City.
Kitty Jones. My, my, my, where to begin. So much tension between us, those first weeks I was here, all this unaddressed emotion. We didn't seem to notice it until it reached breaking point, and that was a curse day. I walked into my apartment, drenched from the rain, and she was standing there in my clothes, almost bare, damp from the shower. I knew I was cursed, I could tell from that unusual well of primal need in my chest, but I just saw her standing there and then I realised that I actually desired to...
It was against the wall. Hard, fast, frenzied and desperate. I was scared out of my bloody fucking mind, but... Gods, I love her now; it was so intoxicating. And I'm sure you all know that we've done it on a rather regular basis. And the damn best birthday present I've ever gotten, too. Wall, floor, kitchen, shower, bed... We should try for a tabletop sometime, I think. Not that we love each other just for that, but it just comes altogether, doesn't it?
BLOODY HELL!
Be that as it may, it's really frustrating to have one hand when it comes to other things.
I mean, you'd be surprised, busy as I was in London, but for some reason I always seemed to have enough time to allow a bit of flirting. Oh, but I was the talk of society. I could have any girl, they just threw themselves at me, you realise. And I damn well almost did, if it were not for reputation. A bit of stolen kisses here or there, typically because they were under the slight influence of alcohol and I was much too polite to take advantage of the situation.
...but there was that Jane Farrar.
God, she was... Cold. Calculating. Somewhat of a bitch, really. But I'm not going to lie and say she wasn't beautiful, but there was something elegantly cruel about her. She used a Glamour on me, you know, tried to seduce me so many times. I suppose there was magic to her scent, the way she looked, words that sounded more than what they were to my ears, and... Once, in my study... It went beyond discussion. Beyond her magic, and into her almost success at ensnaring me. God, but her kisses... her hands. Whispered words and she knew just what to do to make me want her so damn much and--
Then the spell broke. Didn't speak to her for days. That was it, until I came to the City.
Kitty Jones. My, my, my, where to begin. So much tension between us, those first weeks I was here, all this unaddressed emotion. We didn't seem to notice it until it reached breaking point, and that was a curse day. I walked into my apartment, drenched from the rain, and she was standing there in my clothes, almost bare, damp from the shower. I knew I was cursed, I could tell from that unusual well of primal need in my chest, but I just saw her standing there and then I realised that I actually desired to...
It was against the wall. Hard, fast, frenzied and desperate. I was scared out of my bloody fucking mind, but... Gods, I love her now; it was so intoxicating. And I'm sure you all know that we've done it on a rather regular basis. And the damn best birthday present I've ever gotten, too. Wall, floor, kitchen, shower, bed... We should try for a tabletop sometime, I think. Not that we love each other just for that, but it just comes altogether, doesn't it?
BLOODY HELL!