"Not at all," he told her, a certain sharp eagerness in his eyes. For a moment, he seemed about to say something more--then his eyes flickered to Frost, and he seemed to change his mind, abandoning whatever thought he'd been debating in favor of another. "So you don't mind if Kieran and I…?"
"Be my guest," Sparrow said with a shrug. "I'm certainly not here to stop you from fucking anyone. So long as they're willing, of course."
Frost glanced at her again; there was no way in the world that the double meaning to her words wasn't on purpose. She was playing with him, and he almost couldn't believe his ears.
But whatever she was up to, Galen seemed to have a plan of his own now. He grinned at her--Frost couldn't tell if he'd missed the implications of her answer or if he was merely choosing not to press them at the moment--and then, much to Frost's surprise, he was up and moving, practically leaping from his chair and darting off to parts unknown. Apparently, he was either vastly more interested in Kieran Bell than Frost assumed him to be (unlikely), or else he was determined to draw him into whatever scheme he was hatching behind those bright green eyes.
Frost leaned over to his wife, pleased at least with having gotten her alone for a moment, and murmured, "You're taunting the poor boy."
Sparrow laughed. "No, I'm not," she protested, turning to face him with a tiny smile that actually had his heart fluttering, like he was a fucking teenager. But it was astounding, really; if she wasn't just taunting him, she was tempting him, and that meant she was actually considering it. Perhaps their time with Kieran hadn't been such an anomaly after all.
"Then what are you doing?" he asked softly, wondering if he should actually dare hope for the answer he wanted to hear.
She leaned into him, just slightly, and her hand moved up to brush her fingers against his jawline. "You like him, don't you?"
Oh, this was going exactly where he wanted. "Do you?"
She scoffed, apparently unimpressed at having her own question turned back on her unanswered. "He certainly likes us, doesn't he? Or he likes you, at the very least."
"You heard him, Sparrow," he reminded her. "He doesn't mind sharing."
Sparrow rolled her eyes. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Us sharing you?"
He did, of course. Even thought of it was turning him on, right here in the middle of the Theatre... but that wasn't what Sparrow wanted to hear. "You know I'm not going to neglect you, love. And I won't let him, either." She shrugged, dismissive, and the part of him that wasn't immediately crestfallen by the sight of it was suddenly devoted to swaying her to reconsider. "I didn't let Loretta neglect you, did I? She wanted me more than she ever wanted you, and so she did each and every thing I said just so she could have me."
"You plan to order him to fuck me?"
"Of course not," Frost said, backpedaling quickly. He should've known she'd take that the wrong way. "I plan to give him some extra incentive to make our encounter, should we have one, whatever you want it to be."
"Do you want him, Frost?" Sparrow asked again, her voice quiet as her eyes flickered to look at something behind his head. Galen returning, he suspected. "Do you want to fuck him with me?"
How could he possibly say no? "Yes," he whispered. "If you want to, absolutely."
She actually smiled at him, soft and sweet and so utterly promising, and then she shifted out of her chair and into his lap, and his arms were around her in an instant as she leaned against his chest. "Soon, then--provided he doesn't fuck up somehow."
Frost wondered vaguely if he'd somehow failed to realize that he was actually dreaming and asleep; surely this was all going too well to be true? "And if he does?"
Are You Ready [4/?]
Date: 2016-04-29 12:07 pm (UTC)"Be my guest," Sparrow said with a shrug. "I'm certainly not here to stop you from fucking anyone. So long as they're willing, of course."
Frost glanced at her again; there was no way in the world that the double meaning to her words wasn't on purpose. She was playing with him, and he almost couldn't believe his ears.
But whatever she was up to, Galen seemed to have a plan of his own now. He grinned at her--Frost couldn't tell if he'd missed the implications of her answer or if he was merely choosing not to press them at the moment--and then, much to Frost's surprise, he was up and moving, practically leaping from his chair and darting off to parts unknown. Apparently, he was either vastly more interested in Kieran Bell than Frost assumed him to be (unlikely), or else he was determined to draw him into whatever scheme he was hatching behind those bright green eyes.
Frost leaned over to his wife, pleased at least with having gotten her alone for a moment, and murmured, "You're taunting the poor boy."
Sparrow laughed. "No, I'm not," she protested, turning to face him with a tiny smile that actually had his heart fluttering, like he was a fucking teenager. But it was astounding, really; if she wasn't just taunting him, she was tempting him, and that meant she was actually considering it. Perhaps their time with Kieran hadn't been such an anomaly after all.
"Then what are you doing?" he asked softly, wondering if he should actually dare hope for the answer he wanted to hear.
She leaned into him, just slightly, and her hand moved up to brush her fingers against his jawline. "You like him, don't you?"
Oh, this was going exactly where he wanted. "Do you?"
She scoffed, apparently unimpressed at having her own question turned back on her unanswered. "He certainly likes us, doesn't he? Or he likes you, at the very least."
"You heard him, Sparrow," he reminded her. "He doesn't mind sharing."
Sparrow rolled her eyes. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Us sharing you?"
He did, of course. Even thought of it was turning him on, right here in the middle of the Theatre... but that wasn't what Sparrow wanted to hear. "You know I'm not going to neglect you, love. And I won't let him, either." She shrugged, dismissive, and the part of him that wasn't immediately crestfallen by the sight of it was suddenly devoted to swaying her to reconsider. "I didn't let Loretta neglect you, did I? She wanted me more than she ever wanted you, and so she did each and every thing I said just so she could have me."
"You plan to order him to fuck me?"
"Of course not," Frost said, backpedaling quickly. He should've known she'd take that the wrong way. "I plan to give him some extra incentive to make our encounter, should we have one, whatever you want it to be."
"Do you want him, Frost?" Sparrow asked again, her voice quiet as her eyes flickered to look at something behind his head. Galen returning, he suspected. "Do you want to fuck him with me?"
How could he possibly say no? "Yes," he whispered. "If you want to, absolutely."
She actually smiled at him, soft and sweet and so utterly promising, and then she shifted out of her chair and into his lap, and his arms were around her in an instant as she leaned against his chest. "Soon, then--provided he doesn't fuck up somehow."
Frost wondered vaguely if he'd somehow failed to realize that he was actually dreaming and asleep; surely this was all going too well to be true? "And if he does?"
"Then we'll find someone else."