102 Playing Dirty

(I'm sitting here watching two spiders outside my window fight for the same prey. It's creepily entertaining and very distracting. The bigger one is winning, but the little one isn't giving up.--- ah, the big one just made off with the silk-wrapped bug. The smaller one is just hanging out on the the thread, staring forlornly at its lost meal.)

102
Playing Dirty

John

The following night, I plan to meet Dianna at another bar. I see her walk in and order a drink. Once the drink is obtained, she casually walks over to where I'm leaning against the bar.

Her hungry eyes rake over me as she says, "Hello, stranger."

I nod my head in her direction, "Madam."

We're quiet for a few moments while she sips from her drink.

"Should we go someplace a little more private?" I ask as I see a particularly creepy individual sit down next to her.

"We shall, but later." She must know I'm thinking about the man next to her when she says quietly to me, "We have nothing to worry about from him." She smiles wickedly.

Her eyebrows suddenly raise in surprise and she looks very closely at me. Just as quickly as the look of surprise shows up, though, it's gone.

"Penny for your thoughts." I ask as I lean in close.

She looks up at me, startled I'm so close for a second, but then she smiles that same wicked smile back at me and says, "Wouldn't you like to know."

I don't like her cryptic tone. I'm wary now. I decide to play my rookie part out in an impetuous way.

"I came here tonight because you said you'd help me!" I say harshly.

"Oh, relax... Link." There's only the slightest of pauses before she says my "name", but I catch it anyway. "Let's just sit here and enjoy a few drinks before we get down to business. Sit down. Have a drink."

"I've got better things to do than just sit around at bars having drinks. I did that last night. I won't rest until I find this guy. Especially now that I think I'm going to get a little much-needed help." I argue.

A knowing grin spreads across her face.

(The bartender is hilarious. He just wouldn't stop smiling!)

"My, my. Pushy tonight, aren't we?" she says, her voice sultry. 

I allow her to direct my chin with her finger only so much before I jerk away angrily. She smiles, finishes and pays for her drink, and turns to me.

"Let's continue this conversation at my place, shall we?" she suggests.

I follow her out of the bar, and discover she lives in the building across the street.

"Right this way!" she says as she lithely springs from the elevator and practically dances down the hall to her apartment. I start to wonder what is making her so happy.

She heads over to her coffee maker as I say, "I'd like to apologize for my rudeness in the bar. I'm just getting a little anxious that this guy is going to get away with it."

"Oh! No harm done!" she brightly says to the coffee maker. "I understand where you're coming from, remember?"

"Alright. You said you needed a favor. Do I get to hear what it is now?" I ask, cutting right to the chase now.

"Hm." she says before taking a sip of her coffee. "Well, like I said, I know who did it. He did it right in front of me. At a party where a pizza guy ungraciously walked over us."

Danger.

"Who did it?" I ask, hoping to steer away from the 'pizza guy'.

"My EX boyfriend. Ungrateful bastard."

The shock on my face is real as I say, "Why would he want to kill her?"

"One thing at a time, .. Link." she says.

There it is. The subtle pause.

"Okay then, but do I get to hear the story?" I ask, trying to make it look like I'm trying to be patient.

"Oh, sometimes I really do miss him." she says then gets quiet for a minute. "I thought he meant it when he said I was the only girl for him. Boy, was I wrong."

"He was sleeping with your friend?" I guess.

She shakes her head no. "Mm Mm." she says quickly. "No, she had a thing for another man. Personally, I don't know what she saw in him, but as they're both dead now, I may never know."

"Then why kill her?" I ask, getting confused.

"She knew too much. And it was all my fault." she says sadly. She suddenly sits up a little straighter. "My, that coffee and drink from earlier just went right through me. Excuse me a moment." She gets up and heads to her restroom.

I'm a little suspicious by the way she said she needed to use the restroom. It felt fake.

She takes longer than I expect her to in the bathroom, so I use that opportunity to have a quick look around her place. I don't find anything out of the ordinary. I didn't expect it to be obvious anyway, but this pad actually looks a little too sparse for someone as high up in crime as this woman purports to be. Maybe this isn't even her place.

"I'm going to make this real easy for you... John." she says and my head pops to look at her. She's changed into some lingerie. I instinctively reach back to pull my weapon when she suddenly sits on my lap. It cannot be good for her to know my name.

"Now, now. None of that." she says as she gets the gun before I do.

How could I be so stupid? I think as she tosses the gun across the room. 

She pats me down, searching for other weapons. I have none. She finds none, but she then starts running her hands over my chest and belly with a smirk on her face.

"Alright. You win this round, Dianna Goodwin." I say.

"Yes. And at least I had the decency to use my real name." She pauses in raking her nails across me before she says, "I will give you this though; you had me fooled last night."

I've not a doubt in my mind I could throw her off of me if I had a mind to. However, I'm curious as to what her motives are right now. Other than the obvious that is. What is her reason to invite me back here if she knew who I was? I reach over and grab her wrists to stop her nails' exploration when I feel it's gone on long enough.

She laughs when she sees I've stopped her. "Oh, come now, John. We're friends, right?"

"I've no interest in being that friendly." She leans down to try to kiss me, and I have to hold both wrists in one hand in order to push her away from me. She manages to free her wrists and I decide this has gone on long enough. I put one hand on either side of her waist and lift her off of me.

"So. You've known who I am all evening. Then why am I here?" I ask.

She sighs. "I still want your help. I have a feeling we have a common enemy."

"Oh?" I say and make sure I'm between her and the gun laying on the floor a little way away.

"I'm not going to shoot you, John." she says suddenly, watching my movements.

"I know you're not, but I'd be stupid to leave the opportunity open."

"I'd be stupid to shoot the best opportunity for help to come my way."

"So you say we have a common enemy? That's curious. I wonder who you mean?" I say, hoping to get her to talk.

"If you're here for the reason I think you're here, then I'm right. And I have dirt on this person, or persons, as well." she says cryptically. 

"And what do I need to do to learn about the dirt from you?" I ask.

"All this talk of business is really getting boring." she suddenly says and reaches up a hand to caress my cheek.

I brush it off. "Then just think of me as all business then."

"It's that Elena isn't it? That meek little hispanic girl?"

"Of course." I say simply. No sense in hiding it.

"I'm hurt now." she says with a pathetic pout.

"Why is it all the good men are taken?" she says wistfully as she throws her arms around my neck. 


"Just lucky I guess." I say heartlessly.


She pulls back to glare at me a little.

Feeling a little angry at myself for feeling guilty that I hurt a criminal's feelings I say, "But you're still hung up over you ex aren't you?"


"No, I hate him. I want him behind bars. Actually, I want him dead, but behind bars will satisfy me."


"And you want my help to see that done." I state.


"Precisely. And I have a hunch, maybe, that he's working with someone you're after."


"Oh?" I ask. "And just who might that be?"


"Uh uh, John. Not until I have your word I get immunity for this."


"I'm in no position to offer that to you, but if I'm back in the agency's good graces I'll do my best to see it done. That's the best I can offer." I watch as she considers her options.


"Okay. Then let me show you the dirt, or 'evidence' I guess you could call it." she walks away from me. I bend down to retrieve my pistol and put it back where it belongs. "It's in my bedroom drawer."

She opens a drawer and shows me a camera's memory card. Then she smiles and sticks it in her cleavage. The wicked grin is back when she moves to the bed.

101B Date With Armand

Date With Armand part 2

 Marie

This is from a forum story. If you want to read from the beginning go here.
Or you could go to the summary tab and read that instead.

Thoughts will look like this.
(Words from me will be in parenthesis.) 

(btw, I never decorate unless I feel I must.)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Armand's place is a charming three bedroom house. His bedroom is on the ground floor, and the second one is next to it. Up a spiral staircase there's another small bathroom, an area that he says will be the game room, and another small bedroom towards the back. He hasn't done much with the second floor. He really doesn't need to yet.

He artfully makes his bedroom the last room on the tour. I halfway expected this.

"So, do you like the house?" he asks, his eyebrows up.

"It's amazing, Armand. Isn't it a little big though?"

"Maybe now it is.... but maybe not one day." he says as his eyes stare into mine, hoping I get the hint. He obviously foresees the two of us getting married and starting a family here.

You cannot assume that. That's not fair. Don't put me on the spot like this!

Thank goodness, my stomach growls just then.

"Hungry?" he asks.

"Nope, I have a wild animal in my midsection that is trying to get out." I look up at him and smile. He closes his eyes with an exasperated expression on his face.

"What I meant was, would you like me to make you something to eat?"

"Oh! Well, I guess that would be okay. But I could make it if you want."

He shakes his head and chuckles, "No way. You're the guest."

Contrary to the ruckus my stomach is making, I'm really not that hungry. So, Armand just makes us some mac & cheese.

(I'm so tired of my sims having mac and cheese and salad.)

"That vampire movie is coming on tonight if you want to watch it." he says.

"Alright."

I'm always a sucker for those parts in movies that are meant to scare you. Sometimes I really hate suspenseful movies for that very reason. I much prefer the characters to just get in the face of their foe and beat the crap out of them and stop sneaking around.

"Ugh! Is he ever going to turn her?" I ask irritatedly. Armand's hand slides up the inside of my leg and rests on my knee.

He laughs a little and looks up at me. "They do love to make you wait for it, don't they?" he says referring to the fact that in nearly every vampire drama the audience has to wait forever before the mortal gets turned.

Still looking up at me, he says, "We could watch something else if you'd like." He pauses before he says, "Or we could just forgo television period tonight."

Yikes.

"No, I have to see her changed or it will continue to bug me." I answer somewhat truthfully. Armand's fingers draw little circles on the inside of my knee, driving me crazy! In an effort to get him to stop I say, "Why don't you get off that uncomfortable floor and sit with me on the couch?"

"Gladly." he smiles.

Naturally, he puts his arm around me. We sit and watch the movie, not saying much. Occasionally his fingers would start up their little circles again, but I can take it easier on my shoulder than the inside of my knee.

"There. He finally changed her." he says and turns to me. "Happy now?"

"Mhm." I say as we look at one another. I turn back away before I can get trapped in his eyes.

Armand reaches for the remote and turns the tv off.

"Hey!" I complain. "I wanted to watch the rest of that!"

"You've seen it before. With me even."

"Well, it's almost over so I may as well finish it out!" I snatch the remote from his hand and turn the tv back on again.

I do my absolute best to ignore the fact that I know he's watching me and not the television. His fingers start up their little circles again, but this time their journey varies with little treks down my arm or as far as they can go on my collarbone and chest. I reach up my hand to hold his and to stop the distraction. Undaunted, his thumb now plays with my palm.

I am now not paying the least bit of attention to the movie, but I keep my eyes on the television anyway. A strange tightening sensation happens around my stomach that must be what's causing me to have difficulty breathing.

There's a commercial break.

I turn my head the slightest bit to see what his expression is, and he pounces. Surprised, I attempt to gasp and lean away from him. His arm around my neck keeps me from getting too far, however. I try to get his arm out from around my neck, but I can't get good enough leverage.

Him kissing me is nothing new, but the knowledge that we're adults now and alone in his house AND how he's been acting today scares me.

He releases my lips for a moment to ask, "Why are you always trying to fight me off?" His voice sounds low and breathless.

It's a small moment before I answer, "Because you're making me nervous." My heart is racing, and I'm panting for air to keep up with it. I try to come up with a better explanation to answer his question, but I can't think of anything that he would understand. I hardly understand it myself. I get a little scared and immediately I want to flee, that's just what happens.

His hand on my waist holds me tight up next to him, and his arm stays in place around my neck. He makes it evident that the only reason he's not still kissing me is because he's waiting for me to say more.

"Is it because you don't want me?" he asks, looking slightly vulnerable for a moment.

"It's not that. It's just..."

"Because I sure as hell want you."

He ceases waiting for me to come up with a better answer, and starts kissing me again. My breathing sounds loud in my ears as he doesn't hold back. That tightening sensation in my midsection radiates outward, making me tremble. All the while our tongue tango continues.

The hand on my waist slowly travels up my side and I gasp in shock when it reaches its destination. It doesn't linger there long, however, as it then continues up to my neck, further holding my face to his. When it starts its journey south again, I work with pure adrenaline and stand up off of the couch.

I can still see the fire in his eyes when I look back down at him to say, "I.. I need to use the restroom."

Shaking slightly, I make my way down the hall and hide in the bathroom for a few minutes.

What am I going to do!?! It's not that I don't practically love the man, but I'm not ready for what he's obviously ready for. I just can't bring myself to be. I press my cheek on the cold tiles. Now he's going to think that because I keep fighting him off that I don't like him anymore. That's not the case! How can I make him understand that it's just me being nervous?

I resign myself to just tell him exactly what I'm thinking, and if he has a problem with it then he isn't worth my time after all.

When I walk back into the living room, I see him standing near the table looking like the darling Armand I knew as a teenager. Maybe this won't be as hard as I thought it'd be.

"Everything okay?" he asks. "You were in there a long time."

Didn't feel long enough for me.

I quietly walk up to him. There's a look of concern in his eyes that melts my heart.

"I'm sorry it feels like I'm pushing you away. I don't mean to, really. I just ... get nervous and panic." I say.

"And this is the same Marie that got in a fist fight at prom?" he chuckles.

"That was different. She had it coming to her." I look up at him. "And that was the prom you were mad at me."

"For some stupid reason I'd thought Dawson had asked you, and you'd gone behind my back."

I shake my head no. "I wouldn't go behind your back. If I was going with someone else I'd say it to your face."

Suddenly, his arms are around me and he turns us so that my back is up against the back of a chair.

"Don't I know it! Now!" he says as he stares down at me with a wild look in his eyes.

I have no idea what brought this on. How did my explanation of my feelings get to this?

"Why are you dating him, Marie?"

"Because he loves me. Because I just don't know what I feel for him, and I need to find out if anything's there before I go and make any lasting decisions." I say as I feel a twinge of fear from the look in his eyes.

"Don't know what you feel for him? How do you feel about me?" he asks, his wild look having a trace of sadness in it now.

I answer without thinking about how he would interpret it. "I once thought I loved you, but if I did then why do I feel like I need to figure out what's going on with him?" I press my lower back against the back of the chair in order to put a little distance between me and that crazy look in his eyes.

"Thought you loved me? How can you say that?" Eep. "Well I know for certain I love you." His eyes bore into mine and he reaches up to hold the sides of my face to stop me from looking down.

I close my eyes. This is exactly what I didn't want to talk about.

I hear him exhale shakily. "You know what I think?" he asks before I shake my head no as much as I'm able. "I think you do love me, but after how awful I was you went to HIM and of course he was so much nicer so you gravitated to him." His thumbs trace my cheekbones. "You don't love him, Marie."

I finally find my backbone and stand up a little straighter, looking him in the eye. Who do you think you are telling me who to love and who not to love?

"Of course you would say that. You have to say that." I say while staring into the emerald pools of his eyes.

He bangs his fists down on the back of the chair as he says, "I don't have to say that. If I thought you really loved him then I'd bow out gracefully, but I don't think you do."

"I have to find out for myself whether or not I do. I'm not about to let you just tell me how I feel about things."

"That's not what I'm trying to do."

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm telling you what I think." He's quiet for a minute.

"And yes, okay, I'm exceedingly jealous. I've always known how he's felt about you. Imagining you with him hurts!" His hands fly back up to the sides of my face again as he starts kissing my cheekbone.

He tilts my face up, his mouth moves to mine and he kisses me passionately. I'd take a step back, but my back is still fully pressed against the chair - almost painfully. With one hand still on my face, he brings the other one to the small of my back to pull me up full against him. I hate how I feel stiff and unyielding, but I can't get myself to relax.

His mouth leaves mine and slowly trails a blazing path down my neck and across my shoulder.

"You're doing it again, and I don't understand why." he says before placing light kisses on my shoulder. "Are you getting nervous and panicking again?"

"Yes." I whisper.

"It's the why that I don't understand. Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"Then why are you fighting with me?" he pulls his head up to look me in the eye.

"Um. Fear of the unknown maybe?" I say and watch as something clicks in his mind.

Before I even know what's happening, he picks me up and starts carrying me off towards his bedroom.

"Armand! What are you doing!?!" I ask as I try to free myself.

"The best way," he grunts a little because he has to hold me tighter since I'm pushing on his shoulders in panic, "to get over fear of the unknown is to face it."

"What!?!"

Once in his room, he gently places me on my feet. I feel myself shake like a leaf.

"Are you scared of me?" he asks in a taunting tone.

That does it. I stop shaking and get mad. "No. You wish!" I say and shove him a little.

"THERE you are! I wondered where Marie went. I'm glad you've snapped out of it. The Marie I love is no coward." he says and we smile.

He pulls me to him and I say, "Oh? So if I'm scared of something you don't love me?"

He chuckles, refusing to take the bait. "Of course I do! But you were letting it get the better of you." He kisses me, and even in the kiss I can feel him taunting me like he dares me to pull away.

Aggravated, I pull off his green shirt.

He eagerly aids its removal and wastes no time in continuing to kiss me. I reach to do the same with the white undershirt he has on, but he stops me and instead unbuttons my skirt and lets it fall to the floor.

"Is that REALLY your underwear?" he asks with a touch of incredulous surprise in his voice.

"Yeah. So?"

"Boy shorts. I should've guessed." he says and I lightly punch his back. He laughs.

"Fine then! I'll just put my skirt back on if it bothers you so much."

I shove him away and reach down to get my skirt. Then I walk away to have a little elbow room to put it back on.

"No, no. That won't be necessary." he says and snatches the skirt from me and holds it away from me.

I shrug nonchalantly, but inside the fear is returning. He takes his shirt off and I nearly faint. He walks towards me and I back away from him to the other side of the bed.

I can't back up anymore when my leg hits the side of the bed and I fall back onto it. My heart is racing, and I can't decide if it's from fear or from the sight of Armand shirtless.

"I thought you said you weren't scared of me. Then why are you running away again?" he jeers. I imagine he sees the anger flash in my eyes just then.

"Scared? Who's scared?" I say, and to prove a point, I take my shirt off.

He raises his eyebrows in mock surprise. Then, to make it fair I guess, he removes his pants. Panic returns and I crab-walk backwards away from him.

He stops me with a casual touch of his hand because I'm so shocked he can act so familiar with me. The most we ever did in high school was make out on a couch in his room. I didn't think much of it at the time because I knew he had to stop sometime. He doesn't have to stop tonight.

"Marie, you are so beautiful." he says with a touch of awe in his voice.

The compliment did nothing to ease the rising anxiety I feel.

His hand runs up my stomach and moves to remove my bra. I freak out.

"I can't do this!" I suddenly exclaim.

I work on scooting myself away from him. I make it to the far edge of the bed when he merely reaches out with one arm and stops me.

"Hey." he says compassionately.

I go limp on the bed from exhaustion. How did I get myself into this? This is exactly what I didn't want to happen. What happened to telling him that I'm not ready and why? ... We got off track talking about other stuff. Then he did some reverse psychology thing just pissing me off and now I'm here. All in one hour.

Armand pulls me closer to him.

"Marie, look at me." he requests seriously.

I shake my head 'no' real small and quick. I stay determined to keep my eyes shut. If I open them, I'm doomed. I feel like everywhere our skin touches burns, and I'm super-aware of every movement, every sound. I'm also annoyingly aware that...

"Marie, why are you crying?" Armand picks up right where my thoughts went.

Holy crap I'm so embarrassed! I think as a sob escapes before I can stop it. I can sense Armand's confusion. He moves himself up to have his face level with mine, and I nearly faint when his body moves against mine.

"Marie?" Armand still tries to get me to open my eyes. He tenderly starts kissing my tears away as I lay there trying not to go insane. His kisses trail to the corner of my mouth before he says, "Marie, we don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

I don't believe him. Not with the way he's pressed against me. No, I don't believe him for a second.

"Armand, I'm so sorry." I choke out. I have to turn my face away from his gaze. Holy crap. He really meant it when he said he loves me. I can see it in his eyes now. My breath hitches a few times when I take in another one.

He reaches up a hand and brushes back some stray hairs off of my face. He's quiet, and that worries me. He's just too damn smart for my own good, and I worry he's trying to figure out what to do. I'm afraid he might just get what he wants. But he DID say that 'we don't have to do anything I don't want to do'. I inwardly gasp as I consider the loophole. What I don't want to do. He made no promises that he wasn't going to try to make me change my mind.

I feel his eyes devour my face as he says, "You don't have to be sorry." His finger traces my jawline.

"It's just... I can't... I shouldn't! Not yet. Not until I know." I stutter and bite my finger to keep myself from saying more.

"Can you blame me for living in a dream world for a moment?" he says somberly and my heart aches for him. He brushes more hair out of my face. It keeps falling back anyway. He adjusts his position again and his thigh rests casually between my legs. I gasp in pleasurable shock. The tense, combustible atmosphere around us ignites. His lips hungrily claim mine.

"Oh, Marie." he moans as he places himself fully between my legs, his mouth never leaving mine for a moment. Then when he presses against me again, it's not his thigh.

I don't get a chance to be shocked because all I can think about is how wonderful everything feels when he starts to move in a fashion as old as time. I give up completely ever being able to catch my breath again. How can I possibly stay with my decision to wait until I know for sure? How can ... I? No... control.

His mouth leaves mine and I gasp for air. I just flat-out gasp when I feel his tongue flick out and travel from collarbone to jaw up my neck. When he reaches the point of my chin, he lifts up a little and slants his mouth across mine. My whole universe consists of him moving between my legs and his tongue exploring my mouth. I don't have much room left for conscious thought.

Why do I care about thought? I think as Armand's mouth has traveled to my chest now. Wait. My bra goes sliding to the floor. There was something... The thought gets interrupted as he explores with his tongue the treasure the bra hid. I let out a shuddering breath.

My eyes fly open as instant alertness comes over me when Armand's hand travels to my underwear. NO! I start hyperventilating.

"Wait!" I gasp out. "No, Armand, wait!" I look up at him and see a fog clear out over his eyes. He looks down at me in slight confusion. To say my breathing is a little hitched is a gross understatement. "I'm just... not ready... for that... yet."

I look up at him and watch as several emotions play over his face. His eyebrows come together in a pained look before he scrunches his eyes closed, nods, and rolls off of me. He lays on one side of the bed, face down in a pillow, breathing hard. I find my bra and put it back on.

Exhausted, I flop myself down on my back. Armand scoots over to me. I jump up and look at him when he touches me.

"It's okay. I've got it under control." he says in a pinched voice, but I know he's telling the truth.

I take a deep breath and say, "I should go."

"Please stay." he mumbles against my shoulder.

The next thing I'm aware of is me being under the covers. I make a little surprised noise. I must've fallen asleep.

"Shh. It's okay." he whispers. I relax and fall back asleep.

In the morning, I putter around in the kitchen and wait for him to wake up. It doesn't take him long.

He walks into the kitchen, his face lights up, and he says, "I thought you'd left without saying goodbye."

I laugh a little and walk up to him. "I wouldn't do that."

"Well, I was afraid."

"Armand?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." I say and blush.

He laughs nervously and takes my face in his hands before he says, "That wasn't easy. I'm just glad you didn't leave." He kisses the tip of my nose.

"I do have to leave now, however, but I wanted to say thank you before I left."

"When can I see you again?" He pauses then and looks at me sheepishly, "Can I see you again?"

"Of course, silly." I grin at him. "Next weekend?"

"Friday." he practically demands.

I nod, kiss him goodbye for now, and walk out of his house.

As I get in my car to go, I remember that it's Sunday now, and I have a date with Dawson tonight.