|Love With Claws
Author: Petite Okalani PM
The complete story of Christine and Browen is finished. It is a fantasy, one I had hoped to live out, eventualy. Quite mature. Nothing explicit, but definatly single minded and rauncy. This is designed for those who like to get tied up in a relationship.Rated: Fiction M - English - Fantasy/Horror - Chapters: 7 - Words: 5,267 - Reviews: 4 - Updated: 07-12-06 - Published: 06-01-06 - id: 2184486
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
She grinned with an inner, knowing, smile as the dirty, pretty, little thoughts crossed her mind. The slick suede gloved squeaked against the steering wheel as she thought, bringing her attention back to the road. The freeway was familiar, but the traffic unpredictable. A long cotton knit coat covered her outfit so others would hopefully pay attention to the road as well. She'd remove the coat and gloves once she got to the house anyway, no doubt about that. The smoky make-up over her marble brown eyes caught her attention as she glanced up into her side mirrors. The glitter in them made her notice that they seemed to wink with anticipation.
Sunset would arrive when she did, a little afterwards if she was lucky. She sighed happily as the pinks and oranges began to fade into the blue above. Hopefully, he would be asleep when she arrived.
She'd woken him up on many occasions, and it was one of the reasons she'd fallen in the first place. She laughed away the thought, only to make it stick o so more clearly in her mind. Love, ug. Not something she was afraid of, no, but rather something that was totally unexpected in the beginning of the relationship.
It was supposed to be for fun- but out of dating came friendship and from that came pleasure, and because of the continuous nature of both, grew love.
Shit that was not something she was prepared for; like so many other things throughout her life.
But she was prepared for tonight. She looked over to the large handbag in the passenger seat and smiled wickedly. The heat rose in her face and she forced herself to concentrate and changed lanes. Pulling up to the small house, she killed the engine. Sitting in the silence for a moment, she composed her excitement, only letting it glint on the surface. She let out a deep, shaky breath and re-applied the deep red lip-gloss nervously. Releasing her hair from its bun on the back of her head, she shook the thick brown waves out to cover her broad shoulders, patting it down slightly with the back of her hand. She slipped off the gloves and, with a click, opened the car door.
The movement of the large bag at her side mirrored the swaying of her hips as she walked to the front door. It was a particular combination; the dark make-up, large linen handbag, curly hair, long blue knit jacket, and the now visible shiny black stiletto boots that disappeared somewhere beneath the jacket and made a happy clicking noise on the pavement. She knocked on the door only once before entering.
She glanced through the hallway and saw Browen sitting in his room. A smirk slid across her face. He was indeed awake, typing away at his computer as usual. With confidence she strode over to the doorframe and dropped the bag. He looked up and slip head-phones off his ears, a small smile coming to his face. Seeing the boots, he frowned with a slightly confused look, sitting back into his chair.
"I smell a struggle," she thought, "this is going to be oh so much fun." A pointy grin crossed her face as her hands ran across the frame of the door, making the jacket ride up slightly. "Hiya Browen." A hint of laughter trilled across her voice with such a casual beginning to the night.
"Christine," Browen said with a small grin, shocking green eyes staring at her waist and up to her eyes, "What's all this?" He nodded to the canvas bag laying at her feet, his short black pony-tail bouncing at the back of his head.