OOM: Miami

[latino_menace]

Ramon is very fond of his island. But lets face it, there's not a lot to do. That's all well and good when you just want to sit and soak up rays or swim or take the boat out. When Fi's here, there's sex. But she's not here all the time and he's a restless sort. All this quiet is getting on his nerves.

So when Fi comes through the door, he's dressed and ready to leave.

'Lets go to Miami.'

Comments

[justcallmefee]

She moans under her breath as he pulls away. A part of her wants to just slug him, but lucky for him, it's only a small part. The tequila is starting to have an effect, and the sound of his voice has lit a fire in her skin.

She catches his arm, tugging him passed the very confused looking door man, laughing low under her breath as Ramon presses a few large into his hands.

"We want a table. And champagne. No no no, Cristal. And chocolate. I want chocolate."

"Would madame like white or dark chocolate?"

"I can't decide. Bring both."

"As you wish. Right this way."

[latino_menace]

He follows, vaguely amused by the request for chocolate. The club looks good - dark lighting, good drinks, good music. Promises to be a great night, if he can just shake off the irritation.

Then again, even with that it seems like it might be an evening to remember.

[justcallmefee]

She doesn't let go of his hand, noting where their table is and then wanting a little tour of the dance floor. Some areas are brighter, more crowded than others. She pulls him to her at the edge of one of these groups, her hips swaying to the music as she moves into his embrace.

Fiona is a creature of physical sensation, and there's no place she feels quite as liberated as on the dance floor. She doesn't have to think here, she just has to move. She can see that cloud hanging over his head, and she thinks she has just the thing.

"Dance with me, caro."

[latino_menace]

'You don't want some of that champagne first?'

He doesn't mind that much either way. He doesn't feel much like dancing but he does feel like sex and he always enjoys her body under his hands.

[justcallmefee]

"Champagne in a minute. And chocolate," she grins.

She reaches up and lets her hair down, shaking it out and slipping the pins into his pocket. Her hands slip under his jacket, up to his collar, reaching up to touch his face, pulling his gaze to hers.

"I need this."

[latino_menace]

He looks her in the eye, hears her speak and wonders why he never needs anything. Why do people need to dance? To do anything? He never understands.

But it doesn't matter. He can do this, to get what he wants. And he wants to make her happy too; apart from a few badly worded comments, she hasn't done anything wrong.

So he pulls her closer against him, leans down and kisses her and then starts to move.

[justcallmefee]

She leans into that kiss, letting him feel a little of that need. She wonders where along the line whatever connection they forged in that warehouse began to slip, and she wants it back. He was happy then, for a few moments, anyway. She wants to see that again, to feel that again.

Her hands trail down his shirt, settling on his chest, and she sways with the music, her hips pressing against his hands in a slow figure eight. Her eyes close a little, still savouring his mouth with tiny kisses. She breathes fire into her touch, into her skin, wanting him to feel it too.

Come with me, caro. Trust me. Please.

[latino_menace]

His hands move a little so that they're more than half on her butt and he lets those kisses do their job, lighting a spark in him that catches his attention and starts to pull his thoughts away from the dark path they've fallen on to.

[justcallmefee]

"Yes," she croons. "Caro..."

She arches into the lee of his body, hips pressing against his, her spine curling in time with the music. More kisses, her hands finding their home in his hair. She's strong and lithe, and dancing lets her show that off, just for him.

He is intoxicating, every kiss, every breath, every touch flows into her like oxygen, making her heart race. She feels light-headed, almost giddy.

[latino_menace]

He wants her; yes, of course he does. But the dancing is irritating him, as are the other people around them who jostle them occasionally. He frowns at one guy who bangs into his arm and starts walking her backwards, aiming towards the nearest pillar.

His antsy mood is spoiling it, he knows. It also stops him from caring much, though he is trying.

[justcallmefee]

She sees the frown, and sighs internally. This isn't working, and she knows it. This is something that can't be forced, and she doesn't ever want it to get to that point between them.

She leans back a little, hands on his chest, and waits until he meets her gaze. She eyes the crowd and then gives him a little head shake. Not denying him, not in the least, but they haven't found their groove yet.

"I think there's a terrace. Come on, I need a cigarette. And some champagne."

[latino_menace]

This might be the best idea she's had all day. The crowded floor is really starting to piss him off. So he nods and snags her hand, letting her lead the way.

[justcallmefee]

She saw the stairs when they first came in, and the balcony that goes around the entire room. She points at the waiter and makes the universal sign for drinks. He nods, and points upstairs. Again, he nods and disappears.

There's a terrace outside, and the crowd is considerably thinner up here. It's still dimly lit, up here, with a gorgeous view of the marina. She turns her back to the rail and pulls him close again, her hands slipping under his jacket again.

"Talk to me. What's going on?"

[latino_menace]

He could ask her what she means but that would just be insulting both of their intelligence.

'I don't like it when you talk to me like I'm stupid.'

[justcallmefee]

She considers this, seriously, for a long moment, thinking back to their earlier conversation.

"Okay," she says, her voice quiet, calm. "You know I don't think you're stupid, I hope? I mean, you run a multimillion dollar business. And one of the things I find -- most attractive about you is your mind. If this is about installing the gear..."

She chooses her words carefully, trying to explain her thought process.

"I actually thought you'd consider it boring. And if this is about the -- whole learning to dive and needing to know math comment, well. Math has never been my strong suit. But the woman who was teaching the class told me it's one of those things, either you know it or you die, so..."

She plucks at the front of his shirt, chewing on her lower lip.

"I didn't think -- I mean, I didn't mean -- I'm sorry."

[latino_menace]

He listens and is about to respond when the waiter arrives with drinks. He says nothing until the man's gone, then sits down and runs a hand down his jaw.

'If you think it'll be boring, say it'll be boring. Don't hand out 'simple' jobs like I'm some kind of monkey that's hanging off your coat.'

[justcallmefee]

She takes a long sip of her champagne watching him. He's trying, for her. He's really trying. This is -- it's giving her hope again, and that's so fucking dangerous.

A part of her thinks she'd almost rather have him angry at her.

"Next time, what should I say, when I need your help?"

[latino_menace]

'Ask for help.'

It doesn't seem, to him, to be so difficult.

'You don't have to sugarcoat things all the time.'

[justcallmefee]

"Okay," she says. "Putting in the cameras and the sensors would go a lot quicker if you'd help me calibrate the feeds while I'm still in the water. With both of us working, we can get it done in a day. I can do it by myself, it'd just take longer. And I'd rather spend the time with you."

It's the truth, stated simply. Working, playing, riding, running, eating, sleeping, whatever. She'd rather spend the time with him.

[latino_menace]

'So why couldn't you just say that to begin with?'

He picks up his glass and drains it.

'Of course I can help.'

[justcallmefee]

"I honestly hadn't thought that far ahead," she says. "When I got the stuff, I'd planned on doing it myself."

She tilts her head and gives him a gentle smile, a little of their earlier heat returning to her voice.

"You know, there's something else I need some help with. Think you might be interested?"

[latino_menace]

'I expect so.'

He's pretty damn sure he knows what she's talking about. But he smiles and pulls a cigarette from his pocket first, then lights it (she did say she wanted one).

And anticipation is good, right?

[justcallmefee]

She leans back against the railing and watches him start to smoke, smiling as a bit of the tension goes out of her. She can do without the cigarette; the night air is tinged with ozone and she can tell there's a thunderstorm coming in off the water.

"My boyfriend bought me these exquisite diamonds for my birthday," she drawls, low and quiet. "And I want to wear them out with him. But I have no idea what to wear or where we should go..."

[latino_menace]

'Sounds like a generous kind of guy.'

He relaxes some and looks her up and down, admires that dress once more. Or rather, the way it shows off her body.

'Guy like that, he'd probably be able to spring for somewhere nice to take you and show them off.'

[justcallmefee]

She wouldn't call him generous, exactly. Extravagant, maybe. Insane, definitely. But she's not going to argue that point with him. (She still doesn't quite know what to think of the gift of Eva Peron's diamond and ruby necklace. She doesn't think he's trying to buy her, or at least, he should know better, but she still doesn't get what he was trying to say. The closest she can get is that it means, 'I really like you.' But even still, she's not sure.)

"You're right. But these diamonds, they're so --" she makes a soft noise of appreciation in the back of her throat. "Frankly, they're liable to draw some attention. I think we might need a security escort." Her nose wrinkles for a brief moment with a wicked grin. "Maybe a limousine, to take us wherever it is we're going?"

One elegant eyebrow rises as his eyes make it back to her face.