▹　❛ office

@❛ cody f。 I never have, have I?
The tips of scarlet, manicured stiletto nails graze lightly upon the sharp line of his jaw as her tiers part to make way for a soft puff of air, silent in patient anticipation. Stygian irises, ever so itenerant with fleeting observation, are now fixated on his visage, still with deliberation as he carefully watches her actions. She knows him all too well by now. Though his countenance is apathetic, his eyes were ever so expressive. Those beautiful, crystalline eyes are transparent with lust, his thoughts riddled with possibilities of how he could defile her over and over again, of how he could establish their permanent residence on the very desk she pointed at. It wasn’t long before he began this little sequence, seating her pretty little rump on the glossy surface of said table before capturing her tiers with his own, to which she returns with the same vehemence, as her own brims give way for the wet muscle that forces its way in. Her hands now wander, one tangling within his soft curls, while the other descends to begin working on ridding him of his belt. All while her tongue collides with his, soft whimpers of impatience leaving her as she struggles with the buckle of the pesky accessory.

@❛ cody f。 Her dark, brazen gaze descends to follow the transient trail of his fingertips, just before they disappear beneath the sheer fabric of her white button down top. His touch, ever so silken against her own soft skin, is enticing; possessive in its approach, because he doesn't trouble himself (or her) for her sanction. Rather, it's a silent command, just as he always does, and it becomes even more apparent with the thumb that presses against her scarlet brims.
How are you so sure you can trust me, handsome?
She murmurs lowly as her umber gaze flickers to meet his light hues, the green tincture coruscating with his usual, nefarious glint. A small smile graces her tiers yet again, before she's parting them, welcoming his thumb into as her lips close around the circumference of it. Without tearing her eyes away from his, she slowly draws her head back, cheeks hallowing as his thumb resurfaces from her cavern. To her delight, a faint ring of red now decorates the base of his finger, to which she chuckles at in amusement before veering her attention to the sleek black desk beside them.
I don't think I've gotten a proper celebration for becoming your new manager, have I?

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@❛ cody f。 Was. She corrects herself with a chuckle. Thanks to yours truly.
A small, low hum of satisfaction emits from behind a scarlet simper as she revels in the way her name rolls ever so effortlessly off of his tongue, the low timbre of his buttery voice sending chills down her spine as his fingers roam freely over her figure. She allows him to, but that's only because her own manicured fingers busy themselves in tracing the outline of his jaw.
I can do some research. Digging around. There's bound to be at least one drug dealer in this quaint little complex. Do I get a reward if I'm successful in completing this task?

@❛ cody f。 Nothing about your father made any ing sense. The guy's a lunatic. Too wrapped up in his own ing head. It's a wonder how he's so successful.
She takes note of the nefarious curve of his tiers, the insanity hidden beneath such a pretty visage. It's a wonder how she allows herself to get so lost in it, so distracted by it despite her hatred for his abuse of the substances he willfully indulges himself in. The substances that bring him to act as reckless as he did in front of every single tenant that took space in the lounge. Ridiculous, this man is, and yet he attracts her so.
Don't call me that, they can't know me by my...cover.
She murmurs, finally giving in to seat herself upon his right thigh, a languid arm sliding around his broad shoulders.
Say my name, baby.

@❛ cody f。 You'd think that your father would be more fond of the larger cities. You know, the places that bring in the most people. The most money. Why small town Lavande? Lavande.
She repeats the word under her breath, only then recognizing it as French. She releases a wry chuckle at the realization, folding her arms across her chest as a perfectly manicured index finger taps at her bicep.
It does, doesn't it? Imagine what my clients would think. Hwasa in petite ville de lavande. They'll be so confused.
A sardonic chuckle passes scarlet brims as she takes a couple of steps forward, hand returning to the edge of the desk as she faces him.
You forget my station, sweetheart. You get to find me when /I/ want you to. You can't just decide just because I've earned this puny title of "manager of Casia".
She takes a couple more steps forward, both hands now resting on either arm rest of the chair he sits in, lips ghosting over his own.
We're equals, sweetheart. Don't you ever forget that.

@❛ cody f。 The office is pretty. A lot smaller than what I'm used to, but I'll make do.
A dark gaze flickers to the red dot just in time before he attempts to hide it, an arched brow posing a silent query for whatever the hell happened there. But she doesn't speak of it, not when she pushes herself off of the desk to walk around the office with a small sigh.
Out of all the places your father had to offer, /this/ was what he could do?
She turns to meet his light gaze with her coal stare.
They aren't excuses, love.

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@❛ cody f。 The flight was alright. Quiet. Peaceful.
She murmurs staying in place despite her temptation to slip onto the warmth of his lap. Instead, her gaze roams around the room, admiring the sleek finish despite the lavender theme the rest of the town seems to grossly adore.
I finally got some sleep, some planning. Time to myself. Pity. I would be there but...you know why I wouldn't.

@❛ cody f。 "I think they're all pretty diminutive, don't you?" She sits at the edge of her new glossy black desk, hand anchored at her side. "What about you, boss?"