should we just put this fire out? (DELILAH)

[attr="class","sensesimagetab"]

[attr="class","sensestextbox"]Delilah was beginning to think she liked Manila. A lot of the city was dirty, but the people were kind, and alcohol was cheaper than water. It was warm, the beaches were to die for. The newly bronzed woman had just wrapped up from her time sunbathing on one of their nude beaches. It was a refreshing change from England – which was generally too uncomfortable to go sunbathing anywhere, with even less places to do so in the nude. Yes, Delilah was going to miss Manila. So were her tan lines.

The beach was just as beautiful as the people that littered it. It was when the sun started setting that Delilah decided it was time for her to wrap up her sandy outing and get ready for the nightlife that she has heard so much about. The woman tossed on a wrap that covered everything it needed to (though barely, in some regards), and she made her way back to the hostel where she was staying for the time being. They had been kind enough to point Delilah in the right direction when she had asked about clubs in the area. Her secret super power left her feeling confident in her roommates – she trusted these strangers wouldn’t do anything to harm her or lead her astray (unlike that one time, in Rome, but that’s a different story).

The shower for their shared room wasn’t nearly as bad as some of the others Delilah had been in. The water pressure was decent, the water heated up, and that was all she needed. The dark haired woman washed herself of the leftover beach sand and lightly rinsed her hair – leaving in just enough salt in there to give her some easy beach waves for the night.

It was well into the night once Delilah had finished showering, changing, and applying her makeup. Her hostel was in the heart of Manila, and not terribly far from the club, so she walked to her location. Delilah might have looked intimidating to some, walking around the city in her full battle paint and stomping down the streets like it was a runway in her five inch heels. The confidence she oozed easily allowed her past the front of the line and in to the roaring club. Her first stop was the bar – the already tall woman’s stature, raised higher by her choice of shoes, provided an advantage in flagging down the bartender. Four shots of top shelf tequila to get the night started. After a deep breath, and downing the four of them, Delilah was ready to hit the dance floor. She grabbed the first attractive person she found – which wasn’t hard – and began dancing with them.

Delilah bounced around the dance floor, twirling from dance partner to dance partner. Her dancing frenzy was momentarily paused when her eyes locked with a stranger at the bar. He looked… Familiar. The man held up a prettily colored drink, a token of offering. A sly smile made it to Delilah’s face and lit up her blue eyes. This is what she’d been waiting all night for.

Twirling off of the dance floor, Delilah made it easily and gracefully to the gorgeous stranger. She took the drink from his hand.

“Do you often by drinks for strangers?” She asked, her grin never leaving her face. The woman stuck out her manicured hand to him, “Delilah. And you are?”

[attr="class","sensesimagetab"]

[attr="class","sensestextbox"]The Scottish accent that came from the beautiful man’s mouth surprised her. Delilah’s eyebrow raised and her tongue poked through her toothy grin. She drank in his beautiful features. They were just as smooth as the drink he bought her. A strand of hair fell forward as she nodded a ‘thank you’ for the drink.

“I could ask you the same thing, Atticus.” Delilah stated before taking a long drink from the fruity cocktail. The man looked familiar, though she couldn’t quite place him yet. “I’m just… Chasing a good time. Think you might be able to help?” She asked coquettishly. Usually Delilah’s advances weren’t so bold – it was likely the alcohol that had her lightly swimming. The hand that wasn’t holding her drink found itself resting on her new friend’s knee. The warmth radiating off of him was just as intoxicating as the alcohol.

“Tell me, Atticus. Where have I seen you before?” The tequila and cocktails were catching up to Delilah, now that she had stopped dancing. She loved the feeling. The release of her inhibitions, the elation rolling off of the crowd and seeping into her every pore, the pulsing music dulling the rest of her senses. It was a different kind of relaxed, that Delilah felt. Not the type you feel, curled up at home reading a book, but the type of relaxed one feels when they just know they’re invincible. That nothing could bring her down.

"Do you... Do you wanna dance?"

[attr="class","sensesimagetab"]

[attr="class","sensestextbox"]Delilah couldn’t help but shudder as Atticus leaned forward and whispered in her ear. By Merlin, he was good, but Delilah dared to think that she was better.

”Oh, darling, I am by no means a proper lady." Her hand slid further up his thigh and she gave a light squeeze.

Atticus was a curious being – Delilah could tell that he was much more… Mature than most of the patrons in the club. Though, by no means did that make him less dull. She could feel this devious freeness that flowed from him – one that echoed her own. There were many who didn’t approve of Delilah’s alternative style of living, but they clearly didn’t mind when it got them laid. Most nights, Delilah didn’t mind either, but it was refreshing to see someone on the same wavelength.

Electricity wracked her body as his hand brushed her knee and he laughed to himself. The beach. Of course. Delilah vaguely remembered him walking by her earlier – she was sure she gave him a wink as he passed, or something of the similar sort. If memory served her correct, his figure was nothing to balk at either.

Well, this evening would be a first. Going home with someone who had seen her naked without sleeping with her. At first.
“Ah, so that explains it. I must’ve been too distracted to remember your face.” Delilah grinned and flipped her hair over her shoulder. At the declaration of their move to the dance floor, Delilah drained her drink and took Atticus’s hand. She was pleasantly surprised when her hand received a kiss.

Delilah was hoping the dim lights didn’t betray the light blush that crept onto her face.

“Why, Mr. Atticus, you seem to be quite the proper gentleman.” She whispered into his ear. Even in her massive heels, she still had to stretch a little to reach that. As the music played the two melded into each other, Delilah’s arms looping around his neck and her hands finding themselves in his hair. Their emotions were singing in harmony, and it gave Delilah enough pause to wonder if he too had special abilities.

It was no matter. She could feel the sincerity, the raw craving coming from him, and Delilah would be a liar if she said she didn’t feel it radiating off of herself as well.

However the evening ended, she knew it was going to be a good one.

[attr="class","sensesimagetab"]

[attr="class","sensestextbox"]The music had taken control of Delilah's body, her hips moving in sync to the beat and against Atticus. Usually, nights like this ended with Delilah bailing early the next morning. She wasn't one for half-asleep kisses over breakfast or sweet nothings whispered into one's ear. No, Delilah much more preferred the hot hook up without even knowing their name. She was certain she had broken some hearts with her erratic love. They want something more. She wants something less. This is what was curious about the man she was currently dancing with. No doubt the attraction was there – she could barely sort the difference between her lust and his own The difference between Atticus and the long line of others was respect. Most others didn't respect Delilah's life style (and she would admit, it was a teeny bit scandalous), so she ran to avoid conflict. Maybe this time she wouldn't have to run.

“All night? Is that a promise?” Delilah grinned deviously. Her hands slid lower, feeling the muscles underneath his shirt. Her teasing was cut short by the taller man gripping her hip sand pulling her in for a kiss. Delilah was seeing stars.

Could this all been a trick of her mind, played on her by the amount of alcohol she’d had that evening? Sure. It was likely, but Delilah didn’t think so. Her knees began to feel weak. It was a long time since she’d had this kind of attraction to anyone.

“Tonight?” She sounded more alarmed than she had intended on being, “Right now.” Delilah didn’t want to leave anything to chance – she didn’t want to get more intoxicated, she didn’t want him to get more intoxicated, she didn’t want to get separated, she didn’t even want to talk in fear that it might ruin the perfection of the current mood. It was a slightly drastic thought, likely brought on from her slight inebriation, but she’d be damned if she was going to miss out on this lay tonight. Delilah nipped at the skin along his neck, silently begging him to take her home where they could spend the long, long night.