Chapter 5

• Clyde caught Ella’s slight surprise, “Hmm” as she got out of the car, staring up at his place with a vaguely-amused frown. Passing her a little closer than was necessary, he quirked a brow.
• “Not what you were expectin'?” a hint of teasing to his tone as she shrugged when they stepped into the elevator.
• “Kind of? Your type tends to favor tradition. They show up in nice cars that are classics. When they talk about homes, it's some big mansion in the suburbs,” Ella says it offhand, more thinking aloud than anything else. He turns, hands casually in his pant pockets as he speaks in a low voice “My type?” Ella can vaguely hear a warning in her head that she's said something she shouldn't have, gotten too cocky - but the part of her brain that's been drizzled in rum is running the show now, prompting her to turn her head to him briefly “Crime lord, mob boss, however, you want to dress it up.” by her tone, you'd be forgiven for thinking she was discussing something as mundane as the weather.
• A huff of laughter as he guided her out of the elevator with a light hand between her shoulder blades reassured her a little that she wasn't immediately about to end up dead or jobless. “Well, aren't you just full of surprises...” he chuckled, Ella subtly shaking a little of the tension from her shoulders as she followed him through the open-plan space. “It's not quite Borough, but it's pretty damn good.” his comment brought her attention back as he set two glasses on the counter in front of him, his gaze flitting up to hold hers, almost looking out from under those lashes “Believe you owe me a drink.”
• Ah, fuck.
• Don't make bad decisions, don't make bad decisions, don't make bad decisions...
• A simple drink stood leaning against the counter - turned into deeper conversation and little nudges - which eventually ended up as easy banter on the sofa. Clyde reclined like a king on his throne as Ella sat sort of side-on, legs curled under her as she rests her shoulder against the back of the cushions. Eventually, probably when he'd leaned to laugh about some comment she'd made, Clyde dropped the hand of his arm along the back, drawing nonsense patterns on her shoulder with his fingertips. A move Ella was well aware she should have handled at the time, but she found herself not minding it enough to care.
• “I'm doubtin' your bosses care that much about what happens with guests if you're not on the clock.” Clyde spoke up, his voice a low rumble, whether intentionally or not “'Sides, I can't be that bad if you're here.” he teased lightly, looking at her with that slight quirk of a smile as if waiting for the reveal of some secret.
• “You're un-nerving,” she speaks with a smile, and he nearly chokes on his drink containing a laugh, his expression prompting her to continue as his touch becomes firmer on her shoulder, straying to the side of her neck “You just casually stroll straight into familiarity with people.” Clyde can't help but smile at how the drinks have loosened her tongue, sounding more and more like the easy-going Scot he'd witnessed at the market “Plus, you look at folk like you can see everything.” there's laughter laced in her words as she seems to realize how much she's rambling. “Not quite everything,” he muses, picking vaguely at the sleeve seam of her t-shirt; her face heating as her brain catches up. “You're proving my point, Clyde,” she comments quietly, the hint of amusement in her voice as she shakes her head.
• He shrugs, it's a gesture done with such ease, he quite clearly has very little cause to worry about how he comes across, he's practically oozing self-assured confidence. “Not a clue what you mean, I'm just enjoying a good drink and some gorgeous company.” keeping his tone light, he lets his hand rest cradling the side of her neck, thumb brushing over her pulse point almost possessively.
• It takes every ounce of her remaining ability not to shiver, the only giveaway he's gotten any reaction to is a slightly longer blink and a shaky breath pulled sharply through her nose. At this point, Ella would be surprised if he couldn't feel the way her heart is running a mile a minute, despite her calm demeanor, she was sure she must be practically vibrating like a hummingbird.
• Despite all the moving, she's never been involved with a guest or a co-worker. No matter how easygoing she behaved that was one rule that always seemed to stick with her. But Boston was blurring that line. She and Frank were friends, they were both crystals clear about that, but they'd had the chance to be friends a while longer than anywhere else she'd lived - hell, they were close enough for people to assume they were a couple, as evidenced by Clyde thinking exactly that. Was time an excuse to loosen her rules a bit? Or was it just the haze of a tipsy brain speaking?
• A hand on her knee pulls her out of those spiraling thoughts that had prompted a small frown to grow on her expression, pulling in a steadying breath as she realizes just how much closer he is. It wouldn't take much to just reach out and...
• Her fingers trail through his beard till he's pressing his cheek into her palm with something like a sigh. That does it. The thin thread of restraint snaps as she closes the gap, leaning to brush her lips teasingly along his, gently catching his bottom lip briefly between her teeth before letting it slip free as she leans back slightly. It's more to gauge his reaction than anything, the way he chased telling her she's not about to make a complete tit of herself for misreading the situation.
• There's haste, and desperation, in how they narrowly dodge noses to lock the other in a kiss. The grip at her knee was firm but careful as he uses his hold to ease her across till, she straddles his lap, large hands splaying over her back to drag her tightly against his chest. She doesn't fight it, a hand weaving into his hair as the other slips under his jacket to map the hard plains of his chest under his shirt.
• A roll of her hips has him grinding out a drawn-out “Fuck...” between clenched teeth, his head falling back over the cushions as she hides a gentle chuckle by unhurriedly lavishing attention on his neck. Ella can't lie, that reaction is a hell of an ego boost. A hand at the nape of her neck pulls her up as he starts speaking as calmly as he can “We've had a few drinks-” but Clyde is pulled up short when he locks his gaze with her, her eyes focused and clear.
• He'd been ready to play the moral and polite gentleman. To bemoan their drinking and express how much he wanted her, but sober enough to remember every second of it. That little plan was quickly going up in smoke - taking with it the finely crafted demeanor he used in public, true nature bubbling through like a pot on high heat.
• Shifting them, he near slammed her back into the cushions below as he pinned her with his weight settled between her thighs. Ending up tangled and grinding against each other like a pair of horny teenagers, him having been taken slightly by surprise at the speed she'd shucked off his jacket.
• “Someone's eager.” his rumbling teasing prompted a gentle chuckle from her as she made to prop herself up slightly, Clyde smoothly pulling the arm out from under her to press her hand into the arm of the sofa above her head. “Let's get you to bed,” it near groaned into her throat as he brushed his beard against the skin of her clavicle, smirking at the barely hidden whimper he pulled from her. “Dinner?” his question was collected and controlled, Ella taking a moment for her brain to catch up and nod when she didn't trust her voice.
• Smiling slowly, he stood, extending a hand to pull her to her feet as he led her down the corridor to the guest room. Standing at her back in the doorway, he noted the shaking breath she pulled in, speaking softly against the shell of her ear “Get some rest. We'll go out for dinner, do it right, then I can take you apart piece by fucking piece till you don't even remember your name.”
• Well, fuck. That's one way to shut up the usually quick-witted smart-arse.
• “Thank you,” it came out much weaker than she'd been aiming for, clearing her throat quietly to try and sort her voice “For letting me stay tonight.” the hum of thought behind her almost sounded amused before he moved away, steps retreating to his room as she closed the door and leaned back heavily against it.