ELI LILLIAN BRYNE
CRIMINAL
PLAYED BY MELON
credit for avatar to wilmetta of Caution 2.0
Posts: 66
|
Post by ELI LILLIAN BRYNE on Jul 16, 2012 22:31:42 GMT -5
This job had actually gone well, and without a hitch. Her employer was quite pleased with the progress that Eli had made in the weeks that she had been given to complete her mission. And complete it she did. She had been required to schmooze the elites of Boston, which was something that she had little trouble doing. She could be charming if she wanted to be, and there was no doubt that she had beauty on her side. Eli no longer saw that beauty, but it didn't meant that other people, especially men, didn't see it. She had to fake her smile, she had to fake her happiness, but it was well worth the money in the end. If she needed to look like she was enjoying her life for a few hours out of her busy day then she would. That was not a problem, especially if the pay was what she needed. And this was no doubt a necessary pay check. Eli wasn't living the plush life she had lived in Connor's mansion a year ago. She didn't have servants waiting on her hand and foot and she didn't always have a roof over her head. She wasn't stationary enough to have a permanent residency and sometimes she couldn't afford the motel rooms. While she was a professional and skilled assassin, she didn't want too many hands in the cookie jar, or so to speak. She wasn't lending herself out to too many employers because she didn't need to double cross herself. If someone recognized her for who and what she was, she'd be a goner. All of Boston would be after her, and this time she wouldn't have the Irish mafia, or Connor, to protect her. That thought made her feel sick, especially because of the meeting that she had just encountered the other day with that man. Trying not to lose the lunch she had just shoved down her throat before performing her task, she continued on her way. She didn't have time to be thinking about him. He was finished in her eyes, especially after what had transpired.
She was never going to get Connor back and she didn't want him back. She hated him. Seeing him again only confirmed that fact, that knowledge. Connor Selwyn was dead in her mind and in her heart. He had murdered his child, had murdered her. And as for protecting her now? A lot of fucking protection he had given her that year ago. He was the one who had sold her to the Russians for an alliance that would have never existed in the first place! If he had just asked her, if he had just talked to her before making any decisions, she was certain she would have been able to help. Instead the man she had thought she loved had sold her to the wolves. And when she had come out, chewed up and nearly eaten alive he hadn't cared. That little fact only solidified her feelings. The eldest Selwyn boy was history. He needed to stay in the past. Sighing to herself, Eli just shook her head and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair. It was down and long, which was unlike her mission attire, but this was different. She had gone dressed to impress. She was wearing a tan business suit with a white collared shirt. She looked professional. That was the point. She had managed to get the CEO to invite her back to his place and it had all been easy work from there. She had suffocated him with a trash bag. It seemed vulgar, but it was the cleanest way to get the job done, as well as the quietest. She couldn't shoot him. There would be to much evidence. She had bleached the place of her fingerprints, and her hair had gone up and out of the way before she could leave any hair follicles behind. She was careful. That was what it all came down to. She had to be in her line of work. She couldn't afford to be hasty and messy. That was how you got caught. But she wondered if it would really matter now. Even though the law was trying to crack down, she doubted Boston PD could have any luck with the intense crime rate. In her opinion, she was in the clear.
And if she wasn't, she would run. It wasn't like she had anything that tied her to this place. Her brother was off on the trip of his lifetime with his sweetheart, Driver. Those two...it had been like love at first sight. He had rescued her from her night job and in a way, she had rescued him. It was nice honestly, and Eli was happy for him. He deserved the girl. Shaking those thoughts from her mind, she decided it was for the best not to think about him. She missed him terribly, and she didn't need another reason to be homesick. Grumbling under her breath, she ran her fingers through her hair again and brought it to rest over one shoulder, trying to get it off of her neck. Sometimes it was really uncomfortable when it was down. What a trivial thing to be thinking about right now. She had just killed a man and she was worried about her hair style. Scoffing to herself, she passed down another alley way, trying to get towards the center of Uptown. She wasn't running from the authorities or anything like that. She knew that they wouldn't be there for quite some time. No one knew what was going on, and it was on a break from work. A lunch break. Perfect time because no one was around. Thinking over everything that had gone right that day, Eli pulled her sunglasses out of her bag and slipped them on, covering her eyes from the sun. Ducking out of the alley way, she started walking along a more main strip, ignoring the hustle and bustle of those trying to find something to eat. She had a lot of walking to do.
|
|
|
Post by deacon on Jul 16, 2012 23:07:09 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,495,true][atrb=background,http://i42.tinypic.com/dxdyme.png] [style=text-align: center; font-family: times; font-size: 33px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: #ED8661; line-height: 80%; letter-spacing: -3px;]find ourselves in the same ole mess HOLDING UP THE PROOF TO THE RED LIGHT, DEACON'S BROW FURROWED IN THOUGHT AS HE EXAMINED THE SHOT. HE'D INITIALLY THOUGHT IT WOULDN'T WORK, BUT NOW HE WAS GROWING FOND OF IT. MAYBE IT WAS SOMETHING ABOUT THE ANGLE OF THE SHOT, OR THE CURVE OF THE LEG, BUT HE WAS GROWING ATTACHED. SOMETIMES HE WASN'T IN LOVE WITH A PHOTOGRAPH WHEN IT WAS FIRST TAKEN, BUT UPON GIVING IT CLOSER INSPECTION, HE GREW TO LOVE FEATURES OF IT AND DECIDED TO KEEP IT. HE WASN'T LIKE MOST PHOTOGRAPHERS HE KNEW, IN THAT WAY. MOST OF THE ONES WHO HAD TRAINED HIM, AND MANY OF THE ONES HE'D GONE THROUGH COLLEGE WITH, WERE HARD ASSES WHO DID SOMETHING UNTIL IT WAS PERFECT AND TRASHED IT IF IT WASN'T. BUT DEACON BELIEVED IN SECOND CHANCES AND GIVING SOMETHING A CHANCE TO PROVE ITSELF. AS AN ARTIST, HE COULDN'T STAND DISCREDITING A PHOTO THAT COULD REALLY BE BEAUTIFUL IF IT WAS JUST GIVEN A CHANCE. HE LIKED TO THINK HE WAS LIKE THAT WITH PEOPLE TO, BUT HE NEVER TOOK THE TIME TO EXISTENTIALLY JUDGE HIMSELF LIKE THAT. HE'D RATHER BE CAREFREE, AT LEAST AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE.
PLACING THE PROOF GINGERLY BACK WHERE HE'D PICKED IT UP, HE WIPED HIS HANDS ON HIS JEANS AND CAREFULLY EXITED THE DARK ROOM. PULLING HIS LEATHER JACKET ON OVER HIS MUSCULAR ARMS - STRANGELY MUSCULAR FOR A PHOTOGRAPHER IN FACT - HE HEADED FOR THE DOOR, TURNING OFF THE LIGHTS AND LOCKING THE DOOR BEHIND HIM. LIKE ALWAYS, ALTHOUGH IT WASN'T ALWAYS AVAILABLE FOR EVERYONE TO SEE, DEACON CARRIED A CAMERA IN THE POCKET OF HIS JACKET. IT WAS A SLIM THING, DESIGNED FOR CASUAL AMATEURS WHO WANTED TO TAKE RELATIVELY GOOD PICTURES OF THEIR FAMILY MEMBERS ON VACATION, BUT IT FIT IN HIS POCKET SO HE CARRIED IT. HE DESPISED PHOTOGRAPHERS WHO PARADED THEMSELVES AROUND WITH THEIR EXPENSIVE CAMERAS HANGING BY A ROPE FROM THEIR NECKS. IT WAS SO DANGEROUS AND STUPID TO BOOT. IF YOU WANTED TO GET YOURSELF MUGGED ON THE OTHER HAND...
PLACING HIS SUNGLASSES OVER HIS PALE BLUE EYES, HE GLANCED UP AND DOWN THE ROAD BEFORE PULLING A PACK OF CIGARETTES FROM HIS INSIDE POCKET AND WITHDRAWING ONE TO LIGHT. IT WAS A NASTY HABIT HE REFUSED TO ADMIT TO HIS MOTHER WHO ALREADY WORRIED ENOUGH ABOUT HIM, BUT HE'D PICKED IT UP IN COLLEGE. HE ALWAYS TOLD HIMSELF HE'D QUIT SOMEDAY. THAT DAY JUST WASN'T TODAY. SUCKING IN THE NICOTINE, HE BLEW OUT THE CLOUD AND CAUGHT SIGHT OF MOVEMENT DOWN THE SIDEWALK. HIS HEART LEAPT IN HIS CHEST, AND HE ALMOST CHOKED ON THE CIGARETTE SMOKE STILL LINGERING IN HIS MOUTH. DROPPING IT, HE SNUFFED IT OUT WITH HIS SHOE AND TURNED TO FACE THE GIRL WHO WAS, NOW, RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM.
"YOU," HE STATED FLATLY, HIS VOICE TREMORING WITH EXCITEMENT. SHE WAS A VISION OF BEAUTY. HE LOVED THE CURVES OF HER FACE, EVEN THOUGH HALF OF IT WAS COVERED IN SUNGLASSES, AND HER BLOND HAIR AND HER BODY... HIS ARTISTIC ATTRACTION TO HER WAS PURELY THAT: ART. SHE WAS A BEAUTIFUL GIRL, AND HE'D GLADLY FUCK HER, BUT ALL HIS EYES COULD SEE WAS HOW PERFECT SHE WAS. HE HAD TO CAPTURE HER, AND IT HAD TO BE NOW. HE HAD NO QUALMS AGAINST APPROACHING A COMPLETE STRANGER AND BEGGING TO PHOTOGRAPH HER FACE. "YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. COME WITH ME." GRABBING HER ARM, HE BEGAN PULLING THE BEAUTIFUL STRANGER TOWARD THE STUDIO HE'D JUST CLOSED FOR THE AFTERNOON. HE DIDN'T CARE HOW MUCH SHE THOUGHT HE WAS A COMPLETE NUTCASE, HER PERFECTION HAD TO BE RECORDED.[/style] |
|
|
ELI LILLIAN BRYNE
CRIMINAL
PLAYED BY MELON
credit for avatar to wilmetta of Caution 2.0
Posts: 66
|
Post by ELI LILLIAN BRYNE on Jul 16, 2012 23:48:11 GMT -5
Checking her watch, she realized that she had managed to take care of that man in less than an hour. She honestly, still had a lot of time before her. She wondered what she should do. She knew that she couldn't go back to the motel room she had been able to rent. She didn't want to. She would sit there and be by herself, and when she was alone, her mind wandered. And it didn't wander to good things. She thought about the life that she could have made for her baby. In her mind it was a baby girl. She already had the name picked out, even though it was useless now. Ava. It was simple and beautiful, and everything that Eli wanted in a name. Her own wasn't anything special. It was short, and it didn't need a nick name. She loved the simplicity of it all, and she could just imagine how beautiful the little girl would be. And Ava meant, in one way, "like a bird". Eli had looked it up simply because it was something that she was interested in. It was silly, what Eli thought when she thought of that, but it made her think of freedom. Birds were free to fly wherever they chose. They weren't tied down, they weren't slaves to their jobs or their life styles. They seemed so happy and carefree and that was a life she would want for her child. But that stopped her in her tracks. She wasn't meant to be a mother. Fate worked in funny ways, and apparently, this was her Fate. This wasn't a pity party, but Eli was slated to be alone. She needed to accept that. She needed to move on and let go of what would never be. The baby was dead. She had seen the evidence. Shaking those thoughts from her mind, she was glad that she was wearing her sunglasses. The warm tears that pricked the back of her eyes gave proof to her misery, to her pain. Eli put on a brave face but there was nothing authentic about it. This girl was shattered through and through, down to her very soul. There was no fixing the damage that had been done this time. She had finally been broken. She hoped Connor was happy. It worked. He had won.
However, she didn't have much time to wallow in her pain. As she crossed the street quickly, trying to beat the traffic, she came face to face with a young man. Not paying him any mind, she was about to pass by him when he stopped in front of her a few paces away. Hearing the simple word that came from his mouth, Eli furrowed her brow, her step faltering. Was he talking to her? Hesitating, she looked around her for a moment, figuring he probably saw someone else that he knew. Accepting that explanation, she stepped forward once more, moving to walk around him. But that didn't work out. Not at all. As he grabbed her arm, Eli froze. She wasn't good in these types of situations any more. It was as if a part of her just shut down completely because of what had been done to her in the past. She stiffened immediately, pulling against his grip as he spoke about her being beautiful. What in the world was this man on? Convinced that he was on drugs, she tried yanking her wrist from his grasp, but her efforts proved futile. Her heavily accented voice cut sharply across his tone, her Irish roots becoming obvious. "Get your hand off of me. Who the fuck do you think you are?" No handsome stranger was going to sweep her off of her feet. Oh, wait a minute. Handsome? Had she really just referred to him as that? She really needed to get someplace quiet. Planting her heels, she did her best to fight against his pulls, but it was no use. Eli had strength. She was a very strong woman, especially after her recent plight. She had been working on her stamina and her appearance, but it was nothing when a man twice her size started muscling her around. That pissed her off even more and her face heated with a flush. "HEY! ASSHOLE! Get off of me!"
She stated angrily, threateningly. She wasn't joking. The fact that he could move her around so easily was unnerving, and her confidence was wavering. She was about to pull a gun. She was seriously ready to shoot him. As he pulled her up to whatever building he planned on having his way with her in, she looked up at him through her sunglasses. Her dull blue eyes blazed with a fire that hadn't been seen in a year, except during her meeting with Connor, and she pulled her fist back, sending it straight to his jaw with all of the strength she possessed. And that was a lot of strength for a woman. Gritting her teeth, she stood there, finally free from his clutches, and backed up a step. Her hand went instinctively to her waist, behind her back, where she knew that her side arm lay. Checking that it was still there, Eli shook her hand out. "Fuck. Your jaw is hard. Asshole." She snapped viciously, stepping back from him once more. This was ridiculous. She didn't know who he thought he was, but she wasn't going anywhere with him. Once she had awakened from the stupor she had seemingly been put in by a stranger accosting her in the street, she managed to defend herself slightly. So why wasn't she running? She was free. Her hand was free. Why wasn't she taking off? She knew the streets of Boston, and she was fast. And much smaller than him. She could weave in and out of that crowd much better and easier than he could. Yet, still she stood here. And it was because Eli Byrne never backed down from a fight. There was a reason why he had grabbed her, a reason why he had pulled her to this building and she wanted to know what it was. Crossing her arms, she scrutinized him, pushing her sunglasses up now that they were in the shade of the buildings. "What is your problem? Who do you think you are? You don't go grabbing random women in the streets and pulling them away with you! That's a good way to get hurt!"
|
|
|
Post by deacon on Jul 17, 2012 13:21:10 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,495,true][atrb=background,http://i42.tinypic.com/dxdyme.png] [style=text-align: center; font-family: times; font-size: 33px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: #ED8661; line-height: 80%; letter-spacing: -3px;]find ourselves in the same ole mess GRANTED, DEACON HADN'T EXACTLY THOUGHT THINGS THROUGH WHEN HE'D GRABBED THE GIRL AND BEGAN DRAGGING HER TOWARD THE STUDIO. MOST GIRLS WOULD JUST BLUSH AND BAT HIM AWAY, BUT THIS GIRL WAS A DIFFERENT STORY ENTIRELY. SHE WAS A SPITFIRE. HE VAGUELY PINPOINTED HER ACCENT AS IRISH, AND THEN HE REALIZED WHY SHE WAS FEISTY WHERE ANOTHER GIRL MAY NOT HAVE BEEN. REALIZING THAT, TO HER, HIS ACTIONS DID COME ACROSS WEIRD AT THE VERY LEAST, DEACON SLOWED AND TURNED TO FACE HER, OPENING HIS MOUTH TO EXPLAIN, JUST AS SHE DECKED HIM. "WHAT THE HELL?!" HE EXCLAIMED, RELEASING HER AND CLUTCHING HIS JAW. HE COULD TAKE A HIT, BUT HE WASN'T THE TYPE OF MAN TO GET INTO FIGHTS, AND THE LAST THING HE'D EXPECTED FROM THIS IRISH BEAUTY WAS AN ARM ON HER. AS HE CRADLED HIS FACE, RUBBING HIS JAWLINE, HE NOTICED HER SHAKING OUT HER HAND AS SHE STEPPED BACK AWAY FROM HIM.
"YEAH, WELL, THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR PUNCHING ME THEN," HE LAUGHED AS SHE TOLD HIM HIS JAW WAS HARD. EVEN AS SHE GLARED AT HIM, ALL DEACON COULD SEE WAS THE BEAUTY THAT SHE WAS. SHE WAS FIERY THAT WAS FOR SURE, AND SHE HAD THE LIGHTEST BLUE EYES - SIMILAR TO HIS OWN ACTUALLY - NOW THAT SHE'D TAKEN OFF HER SUNGLASSES. TRYING NOT TO LET HER NATURAL, ARTISTIC BEAUTY OVERTAKE HIM, HE SMILED WHILE CONTINUING TO RUB HIS JAW, POINTING UP AT THE SIGN THAT NOW HUNG OVER HIS HEAD AS SHE ASKED HIM WHAT HE WAS THINKING. THE STUDIO'S SIGN SWUNG BACK AND FORTH LAZILY IN THE DULL BREEZE, OBLIVIOUS TO WHAT WAS GOING ON JUST BELOW. "I WAS INTENDING TO TAKE YOUR PICTURE SINCE YOU HAVE PERFECT BONE STRUCTURE," HE REPLIED EASILY, NOT TAKING FAULT WITH HER FOR PUNCHING HIM. WHEN HE THOUGHT ABOUT IT FROM HER POINT OF VIEW, HE KNEW HE'D BEEN A CREEP AND HE'D PROBABLY SCARED HER. HE STILL WONDERED WHERE SHE GOT THE BALLS TO PUNCH A FULL-GROWN MAN, BUT HE COULD DO NOTHING OTHER THAN RESPECT HER FOR REACTING SO FORCEFULLY. SHE WAS EVEN MORE ATTRACTIVE TO HIM NOW THAT HE KNEW SHE HAD A BRAIN AND WASN'T JUST A PRETTY FACE.
"I WOULD EVEN PAY YOU IF YOU WANT, BUT I KNOW ONE THING FOR CERTAIN: IF I DON'T TAKE AT LEAST ONE PHOTOGRAPH OF YOU BEFORE I DIE, I WILL BE AN UNLUCKY MAN," HE COMMENTED WITH A GENUINE SMILE THAT SHOWED HIS BRILLIANTLY WHITE TEETH AND MADE HIS ICE BLUE EYES SPARKLE. OPENING THE DOOR TO THE STUDIO, HE HELD IT OPEN AND RAISED HIS EYEBROWS, QUESTIONING IF SHE WOULD HUMOR HIM. "COME ON." GRABBING HER HAND NOW THAT HE THOUGHT SHE MIGHT NOT HIT HIM THIS TIME, HE GENTLY PULLED HER INTO THE STUDIO AND HEADED FOR HIS BEST CAMERA EQUIPMENT. "IT'LL BE FUN, I PROMISE." DIRECTING HER TOWARD A SET THAT WAS FILLED WITH PILLOWS AND COUCHES WITH A BACKDROP THAT LOOKED LIKE AN ORNATE TAPESTRY WOVEN WITH GOLD AND CRIMSON THREADS, HE TURNED ON THE LIGHTS AND FILLED THE SCENE WITH A GOLDEN GLOW. HE ALLOWED HER A MOMENT TO EXPLORE OR QUESTION HIM IF SHE WANTED AS HE TURNED ON HIS LAP TOP THAT SHOWED HIM THE SHOTS AS HE TOOK THEM.[/style] |
|
|
ELI LILLIAN BRYNE
CRIMINAL
PLAYED BY MELON
credit for avatar to wilmetta of Caution 2.0
Posts: 66
|
Post by ELI LILLIAN BRYNE on Jul 17, 2012 23:00:17 GMT -5
She was irritated. Who did this guy think he was? He couldn't just go grabbing random girls on the street because he thought that they were beautiful. That was a good way to get hurt or arrested, and right now Eli just wanted to take off running. She had the opportunity. She had the chance. She had stunned him with that punch, and it was quite obvious that he wasn't expecting it. She didn't care. What she did care about was the fact that her hand was on fire. His jaw really was hard and her hand was paying for that crack. When Eli hit someone, she didn't hold anything back. And the training she had been putting in during the past year had definitely done her muscles some good. She wasn't thinking that she was some muscular girl that could take on the next macho man. She wasn't an idiot. She knew her limits, and she also knew that a guy his size could overpower her. It wasn't anything against her skill. It had everything to do with their size differences. She was thin, thinner than she had ever been before. While before the Russians, she had been thin, she had been a healthy thin. Now a person could count her ribs if she ever went around without a shirt. Not that she did that on a regular basis, but her bikini wearing days were over. Especially because of the scars and burn marks that littered her body now. Shaking those thoughts from her mind, she looked at him, dumbfounded by this entire meeting. She just wanted to go home. No, not home. She just wanted to get away from this guy. He was making her horribly uncomfortable, and if didn't stop soon enough she was going to end up putting a bullet in him. And they were in public. That would be unnecessary and messy.
Wait a minute....was he laughing at her? Her blue eyes flashed upwards as she heard his statement, and she looked none too pleased. "Excuse you. This isn't funny. And you deserved it." Her accent was thick and heavy, but it was still refined. Watching him like a predator watches their prey, Eli stepped back from him. She was not in any condition to deal with him right now. She was on a high from the kill she had just completed and she honestly just couldn't take socializing right now. She didn't want to get close to anyone, so she didn't know what this man had in mind. If he thought he was going to get an easy pass at her he had another thing coming. She wasn't as uptight as she had once been, but she didn't sleep around either. Watching him as he rubbed his jaw, she looked him up and down, sizing him up. He was big and muscular, and attractive. Eli could be in some serious trouble here. As he pointed upwards, she gave him a look and then glanced up, seeing the sign. A photography studio? Was this guy for real? Her blue eyes lingered on the sign for a moment, her blonde hair shifting in the slight breeze. Reaching up to tuck it behind her ear, she looked back to him, scrutinizing him. She didn't understand. He just saw someone with good bone structure and grabbed them? Did he do this often? Opening her mouth to say something rather snarky, he cut her off with his honesty. Blinking in slight surprise, she studied him now, trying to follow her instincts. At first they had told her to run, but she hadn't listened to them for some reason. Could she have been wrong about him? "Perfect bone structure?" What did that mean? Was that another way of saying that she was pretty? She didn't know if she should be flattered or offended. This whole entire situation threw her for a loop and she wasn't sure that she appreciated it.
Giving him another heated look, she heard his next comment and her eyes widened in surprise. "Excuse you?" Scoffing at him, she turned on her heel suddenly, ready to walk away from him. But of course that wasn't going to happen. It never happened. Not with her. She couldn't be so lucky. When he grabbed her hand, telling her to come on, Eli stiffened instantly, but there wasn't much that she could do. He was stronger than her and at this point, she felt too exhausted to put up much of a fight any longer. Her long legs nearly tangled themselves up as she turned quickly, but she regained herself, squeezing his hand more tightly to right herself. Frustrated now, she followed after him. "You're very demanding, do you know that?" She snapped out, her accent sharpening her words. Huffing as he let go of her, she looked at the scene he had placed her in front of. Raising an eyebrow, she crossed her arm, letting her bag slip off of her shoulder. That was a bad idea. Hearing the clink inside of it, she sighed and picked it back up, wondering how she could hide her weapons inside of it without him seeing her remove all of them. But what if she needed the weapons? This was just too much work. "I don't see how you taking pictures of me is going to be very fun." She stated obviously, and then looked at him. "Are you ever going to tell me your name? And what do I have to do here anyway?" She asked, obviously still rather irked about this entire situation. He had another thing coming. He didn't know what he was getting himself into when he grabbed Eli Byrne off of the street.
|
|
|
Post by deacon on Jul 17, 2012 23:26:03 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,495,true][atrb=background,http://i42.tinypic.com/dxdyme.png] [style=text-align: center; font-family: times; font-size: 33px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: #ED8661; line-height: 80%; letter-spacing: -3px;]find ourselves in the same ole mess SHE WAS A STUBBORN LITTLE SPRITE, BUT THAT DIDN'T FAZE HIM. HE WAS HARD-HEADED WHEN HE WANTED SOMETHING, AND TAKING A PICTURE OF HER WAS THE TOP OF HIS PRIORITIES RIGHT IN THIS MOMENT. HE LIVED IN THE MOMENT, AND SOMETHING TOLD HIM SHE NEEDED TO DO THAT A LITTLE MORE THAN SHE DID. SHE WAS OBVIOUSLY UPTIGHT, AT LEAST IN HIS OPINION, CONSIDERING SHE'D TRIED TO LAY HIM OUT JUST FOR PULLING HER TOWARD THE STUDIO. GRANTED, SHE HADN'T KNOWN THAT WAS HIS INTENTION, BUT IT WASN'T LIKE THEY WERE IN A DARK ALLEYWAY OR SOMETHING. IT WAS BROAD DAYLIGHT, FOR GOODNESS' SAKE. HOWEVER, HE DIDN'T HOLD ANY OF HER ACTIONS AGAINST HER. THE OPPORTUNITY HE FELT SLIPPING THROUGH HIS FINGERS AS SHE TRIED TO WALK AWAY AGAIN MADE HIS CHEST FEEL HOLLOW, AND THAT WAS WHEN HE GRIPPED HER HAND AND PULLED HER AFTER HIM INTO THE STUDIO.
WHILE HIS CAMERA AND LAPTOP BOOTED UP, HE WATCHED HER OUT OF THE CORNER OF HIS EYE. SHE MOVED LIKE A PANTHER, AND IT FASCINATED HIM. HE'D SEEN MODELS AND DANCERS MOVE, AND THEY WERE GRACEFUL, BUT THIS WAS A DIFFERENT SORT OF GRACE. IT WAS PREDATORY AND CAUTIOUS BUT LIGHT, AS IF SHE COULD CHANGE DIRECTION AND BE ACROSS THE ROOM IN THE TWITCH OF A MUSCLE. HE LOVED ANIMALS, LOVED WATCHING THEM MOVE AND HOW THEY LOOKED FOR THE CAMERA, AND HER PANTHER-LIKE GRACE GRIPPED HIM AND ENTHRALLED HIS ATTENTION. IN ESSENCE, HE WAS SMITTEN WITH HER FEMININITY. SMITTEN WITH HER ABILITY TO RAPTURE HIM AND MAKE HIM FORGET IF ANYTHING AS BEAUTIFUL EXISTED IN THE WORLD.
"IT'S DEACON," HE ANSWERED WITH A SMILE AS SHE WALKED ON TO THE SET AND GRUMPILY EYED HIM. "ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS STAND THERE REALLY. I'LL TAKE THE PICTURES, AND YOU JUST BE YOURSELF. YOU CAN MANAGE THAT, CAN'T YOU?" HE ASKED TEASINGLY, WITH AN EASYGOING SMILE. AS SHE WALKED IN FRONT OF THE CAMERA UNINTENTIONALLY, HE SUDDENLY FELT SOMETHING WAS WRONG. "THIS IS ALL WRONG..." HE MUTTERED TO HIMSELF, WALKING TOWARD HER. GRABBING THE SIDE OF THE COUCH, HE PUSHED IT AWAY, ROLLING IT ON THE WHEELS THAT MADE IT EASY TO MOVE IN AND OUT OF A SET. KICKING PILLOWS OUT OF THE WAY, HE ROLLED THE SET WALL WITH THE CARPET ON IT OFF THE OTHER DIRECTION UNTIL HE HAD THE WHOLE SPACE EMPTIED. ALL THAT REMAINED WAS THE GIRL AND A GRAY DROP CLOTH. "PERFECT," HE COMMENDED HAPPILY. ALL HE NEEDED WAS HER. THE OTHER JUST DREW AWAY FROM THE PERFECTION THAT WAS ALREADY THERE.
WALKING BACK TO THE CAMERA, HE LOOKED AT HER THROUGH THE LENS AND HIS BROW FURROWED. "YOU'RE SO... STIFF. JUST RELAX," HE ORDERED GENTLY. GRABBING THE CAMERA AND CARRYING IT WITH HIM, HE WALKED TOWARD HER AND LOOKED HER DIRECTLY IN HER EYES, SOMEHOW FEELING THAT SHE'D RATHER GET A LOOK IN HIS EYES TO BE ABLE TO TRUST HIM. "JUST BE YOURSELF," HE STATED SOOTHINGLY, HIS HAND GENTLY RUNNING BENEATH HER CHIN TO RAISE HER HEAD. HE BRUSHED HER BLOND HAIR FORWARD, HIS FINGERS BRUSHING THE SKIN ON THE SIDES OF HER NECK. SWIFTLY, HE PUSHED HER JACKET OFF OF HER SHOULDERS, REVEALING THE BARE SKIN THERE. HE INSTANTLY NOTICED THE SCARS ON HER ARMS, AND HE COULD TELL THEY WEREN'T JUST FROM COOKING ACCIDENTS. HE DIDN'T QUESTION THOUGH, AND IF ANYTHING, THE SCARS ONLY MADE HER AN EVEN MORE INTERESTING SUBJECT. ONE HAND WENT TO HER SHOULDER AS HE RAN HIS PALM DOWN HER ARM, FEELING THE VARIEGATION BETWEEN SMOOTH AND ROUGH AS HIS HAND RAN OVER HIDDEN SCAR TISSUE.
HIS HAND RAN DOWN HER SIDE AND HE GRIPPED THE HEM OF HER SHIRT, PULLING IT UP AND UNTUCKED. WHEN HE DID, HE HEARD A CLICK ON HER BACK BUT DIDN'T ASK ANY QUESTIONS. PERHAPS IT WAS JUST A BUTTON OR A SNAP HE'D POPPED. HIS PALE BLUE EYES STAYED FOCUSED ON HER GAZE THE WHOLE TIME UNTIL HE REACHED HER PANTS. HIS FINGERS DEFTLY UNZIPPED THE ZIPPER ON HER HIP, LOOSENING THE PANTS BUT NOT REMOVING THEM. HE KNEW SHE WOULDN'T TRUST HIM ENOUGH TO DO THAT. "RELAX AND TRUST ME," HE SAID, CAREFULLY SO SHE KNEW HE WAS BEING SINCERE AND WASN'T GOING TO RAPE HER OR SOMETHING. "YOU HAVE TO TRUST YOUR PHOTOGRAPHER." HE SMILED SLIGHTLY, LIFTING THE CAMERA AND TAKING A QUICK SNAPSHOT OF HER FACE. SHE WAS FROWNING, SO HE FROWNED PLAYFULLY BACK AT HER AND GENTLY TOUCHED HER JAWLINE. "DON'T FROWN, PRINCESS, SOMEONE COULD BE FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOUR SMILE." HE WINKED AT THE CORNY SAYING AND SNAPPED A FEW MORE PHOTOS, ALLOWING HER THE CHANCE TO WARM UP TO HIM, PROVING TO HER THAT ALTHOUGH HE WAS PUSHING HER LIMITS, HE WAS ONLY DOING IT SO SHE COULD OPEN UP AND RELAX NOT BECAUSE HE WAS SOME WEIRDO.[/style] |
|
|
ELI LILLIAN BRYNE
CRIMINAL
PLAYED BY MELON
credit for avatar to wilmetta of Caution 2.0
Posts: 66
|
Post by ELI LILLIAN BRYNE on Jul 27, 2012 2:02:20 GMT -5
"I can feel you watching me. What's so interesting?" Her voice was low and dangerous, but not threatening in any way. She hated being watched, she hated the feeling. It sent shivers up and down her spine and she knew it was because of all that she had endured a year previously. She would never forget the feeling of their disgusting, merciless eyes on her. They made her feel dirty, they made her feel disgusting. And they had made her dirty and disgusting, had been dirty and disgusting. They had used her and abused her, then threw her away like a piece of trash. And it all started with a look, with a stare. Their eyes had never stopped watching her and she hated it. So she hated being watched now. She tensed under his gaze now, wishing more than anything that she hadn't come into this man's studio with him. What was she thinking? Of course she could take care of herself but that wasn't the point. What an idiot she was. After all that had happened to her, who was she to go off with a strange man that she didn't know? Who was she to acquiesce to his demands, to allow him to pull her in here? He was strong, and built, but she was armed. And she was deadly with her weapons. He could be dead before her now but still she did not shoot. She did not pull her weapons. Why? Why was she hesitating? She was allowed to hate the male race, but yet, he was still breathing. It confused her.
Was it because he was being so gentle, despite his aggression to get her into his photography studio? She didn't know, but she found herself wanting to trust this man. And that hadn't happened in a year. It threw her, jarred her, and for a moment as she stood in front of him, her expression changed. She looked absolutely, utterly lost and she didn't know how to regain her composure, her equilibrium. Keeping still, Eli turned her face to hers only once she heard him speak again. And his masculine tone brought her crashing back to Earth. Trying her best to hide her blush, for she knew how bad that must have seemed, she sighed. She was about to reply to him, but he kept going after giving her his name, teasing her as he went along. This was different. He was different. Why wasn't he like all of the other guys that she met in her life? He wasn't cold, he wasn't indifferent. He honestly wasn't even that forceful. He hadn't touched her since he brought her into this studio. Of course he was busy setting up his equipment, but at this moment, Eli didn't feel threatened. It was a welcome relief and for the first moment in well, probably a year, she felt at ease. She didn't need to look over her shoulder to see what he was doing, she didn't need to find all of the available exits. She was okay. Somehow this stranger comforted her, and it was so, so welcomed.
It was then that she realized she hadn't even answered his question. How awkward was that? And she didn't even introduce herself either, which in the Irish way, was extremely rude. She stood there for a moment and was about to respond, but then he was moving towards her. Her false sense of security evaporated when she saw his frown, watching him like a hawk. Her entire body tensed and she followed him with her eyes, watching as she started bustling around her. Chiding herself, she shook her head, then stepped out of the way. He was just moving the set around, that was all. Feeling rather foolish, she blushed in her embarrassment and was more than happy because he was so busy with changing his scenery. However, she was absolutely horrified when she realized what this meant. She was only going to be standing in front of a grey screen. "Excuse me, Deacon, but...isn't this a little...well bare?" She questioned, looking out of her element. Her temper, her fire evaporated as if it had been extinguished, and Eli Byrne actually looked nervous. She was uncomfortable with this entire process and it showed. It would have actually been rather adorable if her nervousness wasn't giving away to fear. She didn't want her picture taken, she didn't want to be his subject. The idea that he'd be controlling how she moved, her expression...it unnerved her. Her wild blue eyes found his suddenly and she stayed frozen in place, her lips parted slightly. She needed to tell him who she was still. This was only going to be more awkward if she didn't. Gathering some of her composure back, she spoke up, stumbling over her words. I'm Eli...I c-can be myself. Easy e-enough." She said quietly, timidly. Eli being timid? Who would have thought that would ever happen? The Russians had truly broken her spirit, and it showed in her very being at this moment. She couldn't do this. She couldn't be in the presence of a man by herself. As she turned to move, to walk out, she was stopped suddenly.
He was approaching her, looking at her intensely, and her fear came slamming back, crippling her heart as it skipped a beat. Her mouth parted once more in silent shock as he came closer, and she forced herself to remain where she was. She held her breath as he reached out, flinching as his hand touched her chin for the first time. Feeling as if she had been burned, she tried not to cry out from the shock, the surprise, the fear. She hadn't been this afraid since being in the hands of the Russians and it shocked her. However, his words, his tone, were nothing but soothing as he implored her to relax. It was his eyes that did it. She didn't trust him fully yet, but she trusted him a bit. That was saying a lot coming from her mind, and as he kept his eyes on hers, she didn't look away. His fingers brushed her neck and her knees nearly buckled, but she held herself up. It sent her spinning though and before she knew it, her hands reached up grasping his shirt to keep herself stead. "Wait.." The tough, fiery woman of earlier was gone. The one standing in front of him was vulnerable, broken, and scared. However, he didn't stop his touching. He moved his arms along and didn't quit, pulling off her jacket. She paled immediately, her mind jumping to her scars, to her gun. She didn't want him to ask questions. She couldn't face those questions. The scars, the cuts, the cigarette burns that littered her arms were ugly and scattered, but there were quite a few. Sucking in a breath sharply, she tensed as he ran his fingers down her bare arms. This should have been welcomed, accepted but she just couldn't relax. Her blue eyes were still wide, still shocked and afraid as he continued his assent. Her lips had moved into a frown, and as he snapped a picture, she blinked in surprise. "Why did you..." She couldn't even finish her sentence, for he was speaking once more. Standing stock still, her shoulders slowly relaxed, and then she became aware of what he was saying. When his pet name reached her ears, her eyes widened even more, if that was possible.
Anger filled her instantly, but she tried not to take it out on him. Her wide eyes narrowed immediately and she shook her head, coming out of her shocked state, her temper flaring. "Don't call me that. My smile isn't worth loving Deacon. You don't even know me." She stated factually, stepping away from him as she did so. She needed to get out of here. She needed to go home, to that stupid motel room so she could wallow in her self pity. He was out of her league and besides, she didn't trust herself to be in a relationship with another man. Freezing at that thought, she nearly wanted to die right then and there. He just met her! What was she thinking? Blushing out of embarrassment, she stepped away from him, turning to grab her bag. "I should go."
|
|
|
Post by deacon on Jul 27, 2012 23:21:21 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,495,true][atrb=background,http://i42.tinypic.com/dxdyme.png] [style=text-align: center; font-family: times; font-size: 33px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: #ED8661; line-height: 80%; letter-spacing: -3px;]find ourselves in the same ole mess WHEN HE SNAPPED THE SHOTS OF HER, HE SAW INSTANTLY WHEN SHE BALKED. SHE WAS OBVIOUSLY SELF-CONSCIOUS ABOUT HER SCARS, ALTHOUGH THE LOOSENING OF HER PANTS AND SHIRT HADN'T SEEMED TO FAZE HER AT ALL. SHE SEEMED MORE DISARMED BY HIM SEEING THE IMPERFECTIONS ON HER SKIN THAN HER PARTIAL NUDITY. WHICH INTERESTED HIM. SHE WAS EITHER VERY VAIN OR HAD ANOTHER REASON FOR HER REACTION, AND HE DIDN'T PEG HER AS THE VAIN TYPE. HE JUST DIDN'T SENSE THAT VIBE AROUND HER. SO HE HAD TO FIND A WAY TO GET BENEATH HER SKIN, IN A GOOD WAY, TO KEEP HER FOCUSED AND TO REBUILD HER SELF-CONFIDENCE. IT WAS STRANGE, WHAT LENGTHS HE WAS GOING TO TO GET A PHOTOSHOOT OF THIS GIRL HE DIDN'T KNOW, BUT THAT WAS DEACON'S PERSONALITY. HE HAD BEEN CALLED PUSHY IN TIMES-PAST, ALTHOUGH HE WOULD NEVER PUSH SOMEONE TO DO SOMETHING HE KNEW THEY HONESTLY DIDN'T WANT TO DO. ALTHOUGH ELI HAD PROTESTED AT FIRST, HE COULD TELL BY HER EYES THAT SHE WASN'T ENTIRELY AVERSE TO THE CONCEPT. SO HE'D PUSHED. HE WAS NATURALLY PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE; HE COULDN'T HELP HIMSELF.
AS SHE ATTEMPTED TO RETREAT, HE GENTLY GRABBED HER ELBOW AND BROUGHT HIMSELF AROUND TO BOTH BLOCK HER EXIT AND TO LOOK INTO HER BLUE EYES. HE DIDN'T HOLD HER STRONGLY ENOUGH THAT SHE WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO BREAK FREE IF SHE WANTED, FOR HE WASN'T THAT TYPE OF GUY. HE WOULD NEVER MUSCLE A WOMAN AROUND, EVEN IF HE WAS PUSHY. "HEY, HEY... IT'S OKAY," HE SOOTHED, GENTLY SQUEEZING HER SHOULDER AND MAINTAINING EYE CONTACT WITH HER. HE SENSED THAT WAS AS IMPORTANT TO THIS FLIGHTY BIRD AS IT WAS TO HIM. "YOU'RE RIGHT: I DON'T KNOW YOU. BUT PLEASE DON'T GO. I HAVE A FEELING YOU NEED TO SEE HOW BEAUTIFUL YOU ARE, AND I'M GOING TO HELP YOU SEE THAT."
HOLDING UP A FINGER TO TELL HER TO WAIT A MOMENT, HE POSITIONED HIS CAMERA ON A STAND AND SET IT TO AUTOMATICALLY SNAP SHOTS EVERY FEW SECONDS. WALKING BACK OVER TO HER, HE PULLED OFF HIS SHIRT, REVEALING HIS HEAVILY-MUSCLED UPPER BODY. HE HAD HIS OWN SCARS, THE SYMPTOM OF YEARS WORKING WITH HORSES WHO LIKED TO BITE AND KICK, AS WELL AS WOODEN STALLS THAT ENJOYED BITING BACK IF YOU FELL AGAINST THEM. HIS SCARS WEREN'T AS BAD AS HERS, BUT IT PROVED HE WASN'T PERFECT AND DIDN'T INTEND TO TRY TO BE SO. HIS HANDS GENTLY TOUCHED THE SIDES OF HER FACE, AND HE LEANED IN TO HER, HIS NOSE BRUSHING HERS AND HIS EYES FALLING ON THE BRIDGE OF HER NOSE. HE SLOWLY TILTED HIS HEAD, BRUSHING HIS LIPS AGAINST HERS. HE DIDN'T EVEN CARE IF SHE KISSED HIM BACK, BUT HE BELIEVED A KISS COULD COMMUNICATE ANYTHING. HIS LIPS WEREN'T TIMID, AS NOTHING ABOUT HIM WAS, AND HE KNEW IT WOULD TELL HER THAT SHE COULD TRUST HIM. IT WOULD TELL HER HE WASN'T PUSHING HER, THAT HE TRULY DID THINK SHE WAS BEAUTIFUL SCARS OR NO SCARS, AND THAT SHE DIDN'T HAVE TO WORRY.
WHEN HE PULLED BACK FROM THE KISS, HE OPENED HIS ICE BLUE EYES AND LOOKED INTO HERS. "I DON'T CARE WHO YOU ARE," HE ADMITTED IN A HUSHED VOICE, "IT DOESN'T MATTER. ALL THAT MATTERS IS YOU KNOW YOU ARE THE VISION OF PERFECTION. I DON'T KNOW WHO MADE YOU BELIEVE OTHERWISE IN YOUR LIFE, BUT YOU NEED TO KNOW IT." HIS HANDS RAN OVER HER SHOULDERS, DRAWING THE LENGTH OF HER ARMS UNTIL HE REACHED HER HIPS. HE GENTLY PUSHED HER PANTS AWAY FROM HER HIPS, MAKING THE FABRIC THAT CLUNG TO HER COLLAPSE IN A PUDDLE ON THE FLOOR. HE DIDN'T MAKE A MOVE OTHER THAN TO RUN HIS HANDS DOWN HER HIPS, ADMIRING THE LUSCIOUS CURVATURE OF HER HIPS. NOT VENTURING FARTHER THAN SHE WOULD ALLOW, HE BROUGHT HIS HANDS BACK UP, GRABBING THE HEM OF HER SHIRT AND REMOVING IT OVER HER HEAD. HE NEVER PUSHED FOR ANYTHING SEXUAL, IT WAS MERELY AN EXPLORATION. "MAKE ME STOP IF YOU WANT," HE WHISPERED, HIS FINGERS MOVING TO TRACE THE CONTOUR OF HER NECK INTO THE V AT HER BREAST BONE. "SEE THIS?" HE ASKED QUIETLY, HIS INDEX FINGER LIGHTLY TAPPING THAT V. "I CAN SEE YOUR HEART BEATING HERE, I CAN SEE YOUR BREATHS." HE LOOKED INTO HER EYES. "CALM DOWN. SEE YOURSELF LIKE I SEE YOU."
DEACON LEANED IN, KISSING THE SIDE OF HER NECK, HIS LIPS BRUSHING DOWNWARD TO THAT V IN HER BONE. HE COULD FEEL HER TREMBLING UNDER HIS FINGERTIPS WHERE THEY LIGHTLY RESTED ON HER HIP BONES, BUT HE DIDN'T KNOW IF IT WAS OUT OF FEAR OR ANGER OR MAYBE BOTH. HE HOPED IT WAS NEITHER AND THAT SHE WAS BEGINNING TO UNDERSTAND HIS INTEREST IN HER BEAUTY, NOT THAT SHE WANTED TO STRANGLE HIM FOR PUSHING HER SO FAR.[/style] |
|
|
ELI LILLIAN BRYNE
CRIMINAL
PLAYED BY MELON
credit for avatar to wilmetta of Caution 2.0
Posts: 66
|
Post by ELI LILLIAN BRYNE on Jul 28, 2012 13:41:51 GMT -5
She was completely tense and rigid. His requests for her to relax fell on deaf ears, for Eli was anything but. Here she was in this photography studio with a very good looking man. But that wasn't what mattered to her right now. What mattered was that she was alone with a man that she didn't have an assignment for. Her life was filled with guidelines and rules up until this point and sometimes the lines were way too blurry for her to follow. Right now, the lines were extremely blurry. Should she kill him? Should she stab him, hinder him in some way? She didn't know, she didn't know! Panic gripped her heart as her wide blue eyes flicked around the room, trying to find an escape, trying to find the way out. She felt suffocated and confined, as if she'd never, ever be able to find the exit. When she saw the door ahead of her, she went to take a step towards it. She just needed to get out of here. She needed to forget about the mysterious, sensuous photographer and just live her life the way that she needed to live it. Killing people. Hurting people. That was what she did. That was who she was. She was a murderer, an assassin. This man couldn't get involved with her even if this was just a one shot kind of thing. She didn't want him to know her, to recognize her. She didn't want him caught up in her mess if she was ever caught. She couldn't do that to him. She...cared about him. Maybe care was too strong of a word, but she was definitely thinking about him even though she had only just met him. It scared her even more. What was she thinking? She needed to get a grip, a hold on her emotions. What was happening to her?
The cold Eli that she had known so well was gone. She didn't know how to get those emotions back, but it seemed as if they were buried in the deepest part of her soul. She was a broken individual, even though she'd never admit it. She just couldn't get back to the way that she used to be before the Russians took her. And this man wasn't helping her. He was making her nervous, making her remember things that she didn't want to think about ever again. As he stepped around to her now, her blue eyes were still wide, looking every bit like the classic 'deer in the headlights' expression. His blue eyes were on hers instantly and for some reason, that calmed her. Being able to see him, being able to see what he was feeling assured her. If she could watch his eyes she could try to guess his next movements. His hand was light on her elbow and she knew that she could remove his grip if she wanted to. His gentleness surprised her, and the confusion flickered across her face for a moment as she looked down to his hand. He wasn't being forceful, he wasn't being rough. What was this? Looking up to him again it was quite obvious that she was having trouble understanding this entire situation. As he soothed her with his gentle tone, her brow furrowed. She felt like a caged animal, being tamed by a handler. He wouldn't be another handler on her life. She wouldn't allow it but at the moment she felt captured in whatever spell he was casting over her. Timid eyes reached his as he explained what he wanted to do, and she just stared. He was crazy, insane. He couldn't possibly find her beautiful, not now when he could see all of her scars. She wasn't a vain person, and the horror she felt at her marks being revealed wasn't because she thought of herself as beautiful before. It was because now he could know the truth if he asked, and she couldn't face that. Closing her eyes briefly, she took a deep, shaking breath and then looked at him. "How?" The word trembled on her lips, and it came out in a hushed whisper. This girl was the very definition of unsure, of scared, of misery. He couldn't fix that.
Not in her opinion anyway. But her thoughts were left in a puddle as he pulled away from her. She felt surprisingly cold and empty at his lack of touch, and as he moved to place his camera on the stand, she wrapped her arms around herself as a defense mechanism. Trying to steel herself against anything else that he threw her way, she was surprised yet again. Deacon was coming back towards her, stripping himself of his shirt as went. Her mouth parted slightly as she took in the sight of him. Normally, before, she would have been entirely attracted to the muscled form in front of her, and that wasn't saying that she was not now, but her attention was focused elsewhere. He had scars. He had scars too. When he stepped towards her, her eyes brimmed with the unshed tears she never allowed herself to cry. This man, this stranger, was trying to comfort her. He was trying to make her see that she was okay. That whatever happened to her, that what she looked like now, was simply okay. She didn't have to hide, she didn't have to feel like a monster. He was being kind and compassionate and it threw her. She brought her hand up timidly now, her fingers going to brush across one of the most prominent scars on his skin. Her eyes turned to his in an attempt to ask if this was okay, and when he didn't rebuke her, she let her fingers brush lightly across another. Her fingers were shaking, but this was a step. She was touching a man, and it wasn't an act to get him comfortable enough around her to kill him later on. This was different and the change confused her. Furrowing her brow as his hands suddenly reached up to gently clasp her face, she looked at him, terrified. What was he going to do? Her hands fell away from his chest instantly, running up to grasp his forearms. Trembling in his touch, she didn't expect what came next. He tilted his head forward and she froze instantly as his nose touched hers, then as his lips touched hers. A cry left her throat as he did so, but she didn't pull away. Closing her eyes tightly, she let him do what he wanted, somehow knowing that this was only to help her, not hurt her. She just couldn't get her body to stop betraying her.
As he pulled away from her, Eli's eyes flew open, that familiar cold feeling returning to her. Her mouth parted slightly in shock as she listened to his words, and she shook her head. "You should care. Your blind if you think that this is perfection." She informed him honestly, brokenly. Her tone held nothing but desperation and hopelessness. She wanted to believe his words but after what she had experienced, she knew the truth. She wasn't perfect, she wasn't beautiful. She was a disgusting shell of the woman she had once been. Weak, pitiful..that was what she was. If Connor saw her like this he'd never want her back. Her breath sharpened immediately as she thought of that man and she instantly turned her thoughts off. No. He didn't want her back. She didn't want him anymore. She had to convince herself of that because it was reality. She had to stop living in some sick fantasy. Shaking her head quickly, she moved to take a step back from him again but his hands stopped her. As he touched her, she was surprised to think that maybe he actually did want to. He hadn't shied away from her, hadn't wanted her to leave yet. Did that count for something, or did he just want an easy fuck? However, what he did next brought her from those thoughts, and her eyes held nothing but panic as he brushed her pants down her hips, causing them to fall at her feet. Standing frozen, her hands went to his jeans instantly, clinging to the fabric at his hips in order to remain standing. Her teeth chattered from her fear, from the desperate cold that had settled over her bones. "Wait.." She whispered urgently, fearfully. But he didn't wait. In another instant his next movements caused her to lift her arms, allowing him to remove the white tee shirt that had been her last remnant of actual clothing. Her breaths came short and fast, her heart beat sky rocketing, thumping against her chest. She was in front of this man in nothing but her bra and underwear and she didn't know what to think. She stood frozen still, trying desperately to control the fear inside of her heart.
"Please." She closed her eyes tightly, as she had all of the times she had been raped and tortured, as if that could take her away from this moment. But he wasn't doing any of those things. He was literally only touching her and she didn't know what to think, she didn't know what she wanted. A large part of her wanted him to stop so that she could run away from this situation, but a tiny, small part of her wanted to see where this would go. Keeping her eyes closed, she didn't open them until he spoke again, his finger tapping her chest. Breathless, her eyes fluttered open and she looked to where he was pointing, heard him implore her to calm down. "I can't see that." She told him sadly, the tears launching to her eyes again. Eli wasn't a woman who cried, but she felt the tear slip down her cheek before she could even try to stop it. She didn't reach up to brush it away. For some reason she felt like it was alright to show him her soul, show him her pain. Maybe this was what she needed all along. Comfort. From a stranger, but it was still comfort. She needed someone to tell her that it was alright to cry, that it was alright to be the way that she was. And then he kissed her neck. She was like putty in his hands now, and she nearly sagged against him as his kisses reached her chest. In another instant, she stopped him, her hands pushing at his chest. Making him look at her, she questioned him, needing to know. "Can you make me stop feeling? For one moment, please just make it stop." And her walls fell. She stepped forward now, something settling in her heart. Despite her trembling now, she reached up, her hands braced on his chest, her lips finding his. It was now or never. Her fingers moved down his chest, the fear still clinging like a vice around her heart. She could trust him though. Somehow she knew that she could trust him. Lost in her emotions, her hands didn't stop their wanderings until they reached his jeans, and her fingers unbuttoned the top button, unzipped the zipper. She didn't move herself away from kissing him even as she muttered her plea. "Please.."
|
|
|
Post by deacon on Jul 30, 2012 14:41:21 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,495,true][atrb=background,http://i42.tinypic.com/dxdyme.png] [style=text-align: center; font-family: times; font-size: 33px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: #ED8661; line-height: 80%; letter-spacing: -3px;]find ourselves in the same ole mess ANY OTHER MAN WOULD NEVER BE AS FORWARD AS DEACON WAS BEING RIGHT NOW. WELL, THERE WERE PROBABLY OTHER MEN WHO WOULD ACT AS HE WAS ACTING, BUT HE IMAGINED HE WAS IN THE MINORITY. HE FELT ELI TENSE UNDER HIS TOUCH, BUT HE DID NOTHING EXCEPT SOOTHE HER. THE PURPOSE OF THIS EXERCISE WASN'T EVEN TO HAVE SEX WITH HER - EVEN THOUGH HE WAS ATTRACTED TO HER - HE WASN'T DOING THIS TO GET INTO HER PANTS. HE SAW HER BEAUTY, AND HE HONESTLY WANTED HER TO SEE WHAT HE SAW.
HE NOTED HER SURPRISED REACTION WHEN SHE SAW HIS SCARS, AND HE ONLY SMILED. THEY DIDN'T BOTHER HIM, AND THAT'S WHY HE DIDN'T WANT HERS TO BOTHER HER. SHE HAD NOTHING TO FEAR FROM HIM, AND HE DIDN'T UNDERSTAND WHAT SHE FELT SHE HAD TO FEAR FROM THE REST OF HER LIFE, BUT HE KNEW SHE NEEDED AT LEAST ONE THING SHE DIDN'T HAVE TO BE AFRAID OF. REACHING UP, HE BRUSHED HER BLOND HAIR OUT OF HER FACE JUST AS HE HEARD HER PLEA, "PLEASE..."
DEACON OPENED HIS LIPS TO ASK HER WHAT SHE WAS ASKING FOR, BUT SHE CONTINUED BEFORE THE WORDS COULD LEAVE HIS LIPS. SHE WANTED HIM TO HELP HER FORGET HERSELF AND THE WORRIES OF HER LIFE. JUST MAKE IT STOP... HE HAD HEARD THOSE WORDS BEFORE, FROM HIMSELF. IT HIT A THREAD IN HIM, AND HE DIDN'T SAY A WORD AS SHE MOVED CLOSER TO HIM. HE COULDN'T SAY A WORD. HER FINGERS TOUCHED HIS CHEST, NAVIGATING DOWN HIS STOMACH EVEN AS SHE LEANED IN TO KISS HIM, AND HE KISSED HER BACK. HIS BODY TEMPERATURE WAS RISING, AND HE FORGOT ABOUT THE REST OF THE WORLD AS SHE UNZIPPED HIS PANTS AND THEN ASKED HIM AGAIN. HE DIDN'T NEED TO BE ASKED THREE TIMES.
WRAPPING HIS ARMS AROUND HER SLENDER WAIST, HE LIFTED HER AND GENTLY LAID HER ON THE FLOOR, ON THE GRAY FABRIC THAT DRAPED FROM THE CEILING TO THE FLOOR. ONLY UNDERWEAR SEPARATED THEM NOW, AND HE FELT NO NEED TO ASK HER WHAT SHE WAS WANTING TO FORGET. HE WASN'T WORRIED. THEY DIDN'T KNOW EACH OTHER, THEY WEREN'T FRIENDS. IF SHE DIDN'T WANT TO TELL HIM, HE WASN'T GOING TO PUSH HER. HIS FINGERS SLIPPED INTO HER UNDERWEAR, TEASING HER AND WARMING HER UP AS HIS LIPS HEATED OVER HER SKIN, KISSING HER MOUTH AND NECK.
IT DIDN'T TAKE LONG TO REMOVE THE UNDERGARMENTS SEPARATING THEM. HE LOST HIMSELF IN THE ART OF THE MOMENT, AS HE COULD SEE ART IN ANYTHING. IT WAS A MAGNIFICENT DANCE OF FORGETTING, LOSING ONESELF. WHEN IT WAS OVER, HE FELT STRANGELY REFRESHED IN A WAY THAT SEX SOMETIMES DID FOR HIM. HE FELT AS IF HE'D FORGOTTEN AS WELL, FORGOTTEN SOMETHING THAT WAS OF VALUE BUT SOMETHING THAT PLAGUED HIM. HE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT IT WAS EXACTLY, BUT HE WASN'T GOING TO LOOK INTO IT RIGHT NOW.
ROLLING ONTO HIS SIDE, HE SMILED AT HER, RUNNING HIS FINGERTIPS DOWN HER BELLY AND CIRCLING HER BELLYBUTTON. "DID YOU FORGET?" THAT WAS THE WHOLE POINT OF THIS, AFTER ALL. IT DIDN'T MATTER ABOUT HIM; IT WAS FOR HER. IT WAS SO HE COULD SEE IN HER EYES THAT SHE SAW WHAT HE SAW.[/style] |
|
|
ELI LILLIAN BRYNE
CRIMINAL
PLAYED BY MELON
credit for avatar to wilmetta of Caution 2.0
Posts: 66
|
Post by ELI LILLIAN BRYNE on Jul 31, 2012 2:11:56 GMT -5
He didn't question her. He didn't ask her why she needed to forget. He didn't ask her what she needed to forget. And that spoke volumes to her. Here was a man who was determined to get her to see the good in herself. Here was a man that seemed decent, warm, and genuine. It was not something that was used to but she was trying desperately to push those thoughts to her side. He was conveying to her through his touch that she was still a woman that could be wanted, lusted for. He was proving to her that she wasn't some disgusting piece of trash that someone had used and thrown away. He was showing her that she was still a human being, with feelings and wants and desires. What she desired right now was to just forget everything and she knew that he'd be able to help her. Even if she could only forget it for the small amount of time she was with him, it would still be a bit of a release. She could be happy if she could just forget for a little while. He didn't rebuke her at all, and that gave her the confidence and the want to keep going. He didn't stop her as she leaned into him, her lips finding his desperately, hungrily. She wanted to be with him like this, she wanted to have sex with him. Never in a million years did she believe that she'd ever do this again but he had woken something inside of her.
She didn't know what it was but she wasn't about to stop to question it. As he returned the kiss she herself had bestowed up on him, she continued it hopelessly, wanting more. He couldn't stop now. He couldn't because she'd be lost forever. Her arms reached to encircle around his neck, her hands resting there. Keeping her eyes closed, she didn't panic as he wrapped his own arms around her waist. Allowing him to do what he pleased, she felt herself being lifted up. Wrapping her long legs around his waist as he moved to lay them both down, she didn't break the kiss unless she needed to breathe. As he laid her back on the grey canvas sheet that his models stood on, her mind wandered briefly, distracting her. She broke the kiss at that moment, her blue eyes wide and dilated as she looked up at him. She wondered how many young women he had seduced in this fashion. How many had he gotten to pull down their walls to let him in? For a moment she had second thoughts, but as his hands brushed to her underwear, pushing it to the side to tease her, she lost all of those thoughts. Her inhibitions were gone the moment his fingers touched her, and she arched her back, needing him, needing this. How he knew what to do to make her compliant, soft in his hands, she would never know. But at this moment in time, she didn't want to question it. She just wanted to let it be. She could accept this. She would accept this. This was consensual, this was what she wanted. She had asked him first and that thought was forever present in her mind.
Her lips muttered his name in a breathless whisper, and as they lost themselves in this act, this beautiful art, Eli felt release from the horrors of her world for the first time in a year. Deacon was allowing her that escape that she so desperately needed and it was with something as simple and as complicated as this. She had simply needed to give herself to someone kind and caring and compassionate, as well as understanding, and she would have been alright. She would have been able to make it through because of simple, complicated moments like this one. A breathy sigh escaped her as she reached her release, and when he finished, she held onto him for a moment. He had worked softness into her and she wondered if it was because of what they had just shared, or if it was because of something else. She believed it was because of both. Having sex with this man hadn't been like having sex with anyone else. He had been soft and gentle, questioning her to make sure that it was alright. But he had made it slow and easy and that was something that she had desperately needed. She had enjoyed it, and as her flushed face turned to gaze at him, Eli knew that she owed this photographer a lot. She owed him because he had allowed her to become more than just the shell she had been in the past year. He had caused her to fear, to feel, to release. Everything was just something that she had needed, and as she laid beside him, satiated and content, she realized that she had nothing to fear with him. That entire scenario had been at her pace and hers alone. He had listened and acquiesced, making her feel as if she meant something.
She wasn't trash. She wasn't just a fuck buddy. This was something that she had a bit of difficult accepting, but right now, she wouldn't complain, wouldn't question it. Someone wanted her just because. He wanted her so that she could feel important and beautiful and perfect. That alone was enough to get her to care for him, to care about what he thought of her. She was desperate for his reassurance, for his approval. Gazing over to him as his fingers traced her belly button, she felt the goosebumps raise up onto her skin, hearing his question. Ignoring it for the time being, she inched closer to him, her blue eyes looking up into his timidly, with question. "Hold me?" She whispered almost inaudibly, so only he could hear even though they were entirely alone? She inched closer to him so that her body was pressed against his, wishing he'd wrap his arms around her. Muttering into his neck, she answered his question. "Yes, I did. Thank you." Her words were sincere and honest, and it was obvious that he had helped her. Her body still trembled involuntarily because of what she had been through, but she prayed that those trembles would stop soon. Taking a deep breath, Eli let it out slowly, staying where she was. She just wanted to feel special. For once in her life, she wanted to feel like she mattered to someone other than the Mafia, someone other than her brother.
|
|
|
Post by deacon on Aug 1, 2012 22:32:56 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,495,true][atrb=background,http://i42.tinypic.com/dxdyme.png] [style=text-align: center; font-family: times; font-size: 33px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: #ED8661; line-height: 80%; letter-spacing: -3px;]find ourselves in the same ole mess FOR EVERY MAN, SEX WAS A RELEASE THAT WAS REQUIRED. IT WAS LIKE BREATHING TO THEM, AND DEACON COULDN'T SAY HE WAS DIFFERENT IN THAT REGARD. HE NEEDED IT AND ENJOYED IT, NO MATTER THE WOMAN. BUT THAT DIDN'T MEAN HE THOUGHT LESS OF ELI BECAUSE HE WAS SLEEPING WITH HER. HE MANAGED TO KEEP THE TWO THINGS SEPARATE IN HIS MIND: THE WOMAN AND THE SEX. HE COULD STILL RESPECT HER, SEE THE BEAUTY IN HER, WITHOUT OBJECTIFYING HER LIKE MOST MEN WOULD. HE FELT HER RELAX BENEATH HIM, THE TENSION LEAVING HER AS SHE RELEASED, AND HE COLLAPSED ON THE FLOOR BESIDE HER, HIS MUSCLED CHEST RISING AND FALLING IN RAPID BREATHS. HER HEARD HER WHISPERED PLEA AS SHE BEGAN TO CURL UP AGAINST HIM, AND HIS ARM NATURALLY CIRCLED HER SHOULDERS, HOLDING HER AGAINST HIM AS HE CAUGHT HIS BREATH ON THE FLOOR. NOT MANY A WOMAN WOULD OPENLY ASK A MAN TO HOLD HER, AND DEACON FOUND IT ENDEARING THAT SHE WOULD. IT SHOWED, TO HIM, THAT SHE WASN'T AFRAID TO JUST ASK FOR WHAT SHE WANTED, AND THAT MEANT HE WAS HELPING HER.
WHY DID HE WANT TO HELP THIS COMPLETE STRANGER? IT SEEMED SILLY, BUT HE HAD HIS REASONS. HE DIDN'T KNOW WHO SHE WAS - EVEN THOUGH HE'D JUST HAD SEX WITH HER - BUT HE SAW A TINY, TIMID SPIRIT UNDERNEATH ALL OF HER ROUGH EXTERIOR THAT NEEDED TO BE BROUGHT OUT. HE SAW HER BEAUTY AND HER PASSION, AND JUST AS HE'D WANTED TO CATCH THAT ON CAMERA THE SECOND HE'D SEEN HER, HE WANTED TO COACH IT OUT OF HER. HE WANTED HER TO BE THE BEST SHE COULD BE, THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PIECE OF ART EVER SEEN. HE HAD A WEIRD SAVIOR COMPLEX, HE SUPPOSED, BUT HE DIDN'T CARE.
"GOOD," HE RESPONDED WITH A SMILE, BRUSHING HER HAIR OFF OF HER CHEEK ALMOST LIKE A DOTING BROTHER WOULD DO TO HIS SISTER. IT WAS STRANGE HOW HE SUDDENLY FELT THIS KINDRED SPIRIT WITHIN HER, HOW HE FELT PROTECTIVE OVER HER GROWTH JUST WITHIN THE LAST HOURS THAT HE'D KNOWN HER. IT WASN'T THAT HE WAS NO LONGER ATTRACTED TO HER, BUT HE COULD SENSE IT IN HER - EVEN AS THEY HAD SEX - THAT THERE WAS SOMETHING THERE THAT WOULD ALWAYS KEEP HER FROM HIM OR ANY OTHER MAN. HE SUPPOSED SHE WAS IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE, BUT HE COULDN'T KNOW. IT COULD BE ANYTHING REALLY, BUT THERE WAS SOMETHING. AND HE WASN'T JEALOUS OR HURT BECAUSE THEY WEREN'T DATING. IT WASN'T AS IF HE'D EXPECTED ANYTHING FURTHER THAN THIS - HE HADN'T ACTUALLY EXPECTED ANYTHING MORE THAN TAKING PICTURES OF HER, AND HE'D GOTTEN MORE THAN HE BARGAINED FOR - AND HE DIDN'T WANT MORE. HE HAD NO DESIRE TO SETTLE DOWN, AND HE REALIZED HOW CONVENIENT THIS TRYST WAS FOR BOTH OF THEM. THEY'D BOTH GOTTEN SOMETHING THEY WANTED - SOMETHING THEY NEEDED - AND IT WAS MUTUAL. IT WAS ONE OF THOSE MOMENTS WHEN YOU KNOW THINGS WON'T BE AWKWARD. THAT RELIEVED HIM, AND HE KISSED THE TOP OF HER GOLDEN HEAD.
"I THINK I'M GOING TO FALL INTO A BLISSFUL SLEEP IF I LAY HERE MUCH LONGER," HE TEASED, "YOU'RE WARM, AND IT'S MAKING ME SLEEPY." HE CHUCKLED SLIGHTLY BUT DIDN'T MOVE, WANTING HER TO MAKE THAT FIRST MOVE TO GET UP IF SHE WANTED: KNOWING SHE NEEDED TO INITIATE IT ALL HERSELF FROM THIS POINT FORWARD. HE KNEW WHEN TO BE PUSHY AND WHEN TO ALLOW SOMEONE TO PUSH HIM.[/style] |
|
|