Eric's grin could be only be described as lurid. That, or as lewd-- or any other number of synonyms indicating sex-filled, really. She could very well imagine what was running through his mind. "Don't think I don't know what you're thinking," Amber drawled. "It might not be of her, but it's of someone. Like I said, all you men are the same." It was clearer than ever that threesomes appealed to him, but she still wouldn’t be suggesting anything of the sort. And if he asked—well, just how mercilessly she’d shoot down that notion depended on his approach to the question.
They’d reheated her chicken, and though she wouldn’t grant it any awards of the year, it tasted as good as it smelled: excellent, and precisely what she wanted. Nothing like working up an appetite to make you appreciate food with all due respect. It was sharp and spicy, just as she liked it; her earlier remarks hadn’t been only innuendo.
“For all we know, they can’t wait for us to come back. I bet we’ve been the best entertainment they’ve seen in weeks. And if they do kick us out, there’s plenty of other fish in Princeton-Plainsboro.”
His question required a great deal more consideration, though. Amber chewed more carefully than needed, her gaze roaming around the room as she dove into her memories. There were a lot of possibilities, for ‘wildest’: multiple sex partners, sex in inappropriate (and usually public) places, assorted difficult positions, taping--
But none of it, she was starting to realize, was as crazy as what she was doing right now. Sitting across from Eric. Having dinner with him, opening herself up even more. This was a high-risk investment, in so many ways. Sure she could angle to manipulate House to fall on her side, but who said he'd be persuaded? And that, Amber thought as her stomach tightened pleasantly just by looking back at Eric, might be the simplest part.
“Streaking across my college campus,” Amber eventually decided. It’d been the most blatant bit of law-breaking she’d ever attempted—though not necessarily the worst crime she’d committed. “I guess I was never as wild as when I was a co-ed.” Her eyebrows went up. “Your turn.”
no subject
They’d reheated her chicken, and though she wouldn’t grant it any awards of the year, it tasted as good as it smelled: excellent, and precisely what she wanted. Nothing like working up an appetite to make you appreciate food with all due respect. It was sharp and spicy, just as she liked it; her earlier remarks hadn’t been only innuendo.
“For all we know, they can’t wait for us to come back. I bet we’ve been the best entertainment they’ve seen in weeks. And if they do kick us out, there’s plenty of other fish in Princeton-Plainsboro.”
His question required a great deal more consideration, though. Amber chewed more carefully than needed, her gaze roaming around the room as she dove into her memories. There were a lot of possibilities, for ‘wildest’: multiple sex partners, sex in inappropriate (and usually public) places, assorted difficult positions, taping--
But none of it, she was starting to realize, was as crazy as what she was doing right now. Sitting across from Eric. Having dinner with him, opening herself up even more. This was a high-risk investment, in so many ways. Sure she could angle to manipulate House to fall on her side, but who said he'd be persuaded? And that, Amber thought as her stomach tightened pleasantly just by looking back at Eric, might be the simplest part.
“Streaking across my college campus,” Amber eventually decided. It’d been the most blatant bit of law-breaking she’d ever attempted—though not necessarily the worst crime she’d committed. “I guess I was never as wild as when I was a co-ed.” Her eyebrows went up. “Your turn.”