Whirling Dervish

[Harlequin]

Nimm\'s back was to him and her mind was on her task – which had proved more difficult than she\'d planned – when he re-entered the room. She\'d dismantled the lighting fixture – the alabaster cover was at  her feet - as well as two metal cylinders, a few tiny screws, and a metal ring which was meant to hold the other parts together –  and a multitude of wires hung from a hole in the wall where the fixture had been secured. She had been reaching up to remove the two actual bulbs from this mass of wires, and she had just succeeded in freeing the first when he spoke.

She looked at him over her shoulder,  placid expression doing a good job of hiding her surprise that he actually chose to speak to her again, as well as her relief at finding him at least partially clothed. AS for her own state of dress, she\'d rolled the work shirt\'s sleeves up past the elbow, and undone the top two buttons – though it didn\'t appear so, she did have another shirt on beneath that one, just with a lower neckline.

"LSG lighting," she told him, looking over her shoulder "It\'s used to create mood in addition to a central. A very soft, subtle light, probably connected to the room\'s master switch – there\'s another one in that corner –" she turned slightly to point to the far left corner of the room, "–most people can\'t even tell they\'re there."

"But look," she continued, holding up the bulb in her hand for him to see. The actual filament was shielded by a coverless glass dome. The dome on the one, however, was broken in several places, held together from the inside with a cottony white substance – "Spiderweb," Nimm explained, "It probably got in there, did this, and died when the filament exploded – these bulbs are very sensitive, you see."

She smiled slightly, "Now, may I ask you a question?" This was somewhat unlike her; to request something of an employer – or a client\'s housemate – but, this was – in so many ways – a rather...special case.

[Existentially Odd]

He\'d been ready to turn away; admiring of her work ethic and her knowledge as he might have been (now that he could see she most definitely was not there to do anything but work)... he really wasn\'t fascinated enough to pay any more attention than he already had (especially once he\'d figured out - via numerous furtive glances - that he wasn\'t going to see anything exciting down the now-flared opening of her workshirt, due to there being an altogether unnecessary layer beneath it). When she spoke of another question, though, he was intrigued. He just hoped it wasn\'t going to be anything along the lines of when the last time the house\'s electrical circuits had been examined or how much he paid the cleaner - for the spider that had ruined this light bulb thing shouldn\'t have been around if she got a fair wage.
 
He smiled devilishly, head angled so that he was able to look down at her through his narrow eyes. He considered her for a moment, then leaned down to whisper huskily in her ear. "You just did, but I\'ll allow you another because that\'s the kind of generous guy I am," he said, attempting to stroke his nose against the edge of her ear a few times - fully prepared for her to jerk away or slap him - before he drew back and continued smiling suggestively at her. He sincerely hoped that her question wouldn\'t be boring - and therefore warrant further distraction techniques from him - and that she\'d fall willing victim to his charm.

[Harlequin]

She did pull away, but again, only out of arm\'s reach, turning around to face him, "None of that, now. I thought we\'d been over this," she warned as though she would a small child, head canted to one side and brows cocked, "Alright – I\'d like to know if you\'d be interested in playing a little game with me?"

Promptly, she sank down to balance on the balls of her feet, taking a new bulb out of her toolbox, and spoke as she continued to fiddle with the things on the ground, "And, before you get your...hopes, up – no, it\'s not that kind of game. It\'s more of a talking game. I get to ask you a question, any sort of question, and you have to answer honestly, and without getting offended. Then, you get to ask me a question – same rules applying – and on and on until we\'re thoroughly disgusted with each other," The light fixture was whole again in her hands, and she stood up to meet his eyes, "You can go first, since I already wasted my turn."

[Existentially Odd]

Games he liked.  Games involving talking he didn\'t care for in the slightest.  Communication was so much more fun when it was done via touch - nothing need be said.  He pulled a face at her, unable to think of anything he even cared to know about her to get the ball rolling... except for wondering why he should allow her to torture him in this manner.

Still looking pouty, he stepped around more to her side - interested in using his greater height to loom over her, ensuring she would always be aware of his physical presence - so that he could see her face.  She wasn\'t stunningly beautiful but she did have a way about her that was... alluring.  That could also have been prompted by the fact that she was at least interested in him enough to instigate this silly process.  A little flattery always convinced him of a person\'s excellent taste.

"Well," he told her unhappily, "it doesn\'t sound nearly as fun as some games I know, but I\'ll give it a shot until I get bored.  Disgusted I won\'t be," he chuckled, his tongue pressing briefly to his lip as he looked her over.  "My first question is will you strip for me?" he asked blandly, pulling his tongue back and smiling endearingly.

[Harlequin]

"No," She told him, just as blandly, "And that was a waste of a question. My turn." Nimm smiled benignly, through the question.

"Are you a kept man or an errant son?" She spoke amiably, though her words could be taken as a stab – they weren\'t, she was simply interested. The tradeswoman turned back to the light fixture, giving him time to digest the inquiry while she reassambled it – after checking the second bulb – and within minutes it was as good as new. Turning back to face him, she looked up – and she became aware – as was his intention – of just how far up that was – into his face.

[Existentially Odd]

He chuckled happily, telling himself that she just didn\'t know she would strip for him yet - so she\'d still answered honestly.  Ignorance wasn\'t a lie.  His large hands shifted slightly as he puffed his chest up when answering, flexing his pectoral muscles for effect.

"Neither.  I\'m just... entertainment.  If you ever come back to this house," he leaned down towards her face deliberately, pretending it was all part of his stage whisper, "you never saw me."  As he pulled back, he tapped the side of his nose and dropped her a wink.  "The husband\'s away on business a lot," he shrugged, "so the lady of the house gets awfully... lonely.  My friend and I needed a place to stay so... it seemed a logical arrangement.  I\'m temporary entertainment."

His grin faded into a more wry expression as he ruffled a hand through his wet hair - but it didn\'t last long.  "It\'s getting a little old though; don\'t think I\'ll be here much longer.  What colour\'s your underwear?"  And the smile was back in place.

[Harlequin]

Nimm nodded thoughtfully at his answer – leaning back slightly when he came close to her face, then lifted a brow at his question, smiling gently, "I don\'t know," she told him honestly, "I\'ve been colorblind – not in the sense that I see brown as green, or anything like that, but in the sense that I see everything like it\'s in black and white – since birth."

She rolled down the top of her pants, however, just enough so that a flash of purple lace peeked through, as well as one slightly jutting hipbone, "I suppose you could tell me, though, since you want to know."

That was the best answer she thought she could give him.

She let go of the waistband of her jeans, hiding both underwear and skin once more, "Do you often see sex workers where there are none?"

[Existentially Odd]

He pursed his lips thoughtfully when she exposed her underwear, finding it highly erotic because it was just a sneak peek.  He looked hard at her, his eyes turning bluer by the second as he considered placing kisses along that line of skin and nowhere else - not that she would see the change in his eyes, apparently.

"Huh, that explains that weird-ass green workshirt then," he grunted, finding it difficult to meet her gaze again.  He was too busy glancing forlornly at where she\'d let go of her clothes.  "I only thought you were a sex worker because of that.  Your outfit\'s a little... atypical of the regular electrician, shall we say?  But yeah; everybody\'s got the potential to be a sex worker, so I guess you could say I see them everywhere.  All they need is the right encouragement to realise their potential."

His voice dropped to an intimate level as he stepped instantly into her personal space, still looking at what had rapidly become his favourite part of her odd attire - or where he\'d last seen it, anyway.  His hand stole to rub her hip intimately, the very front of his groin nudging at the round of her buttock as he monopolised on his preternatural speed to get to her before she had a chance to pull away.  His other hand wound round and grasped her other hip at the same moment and he murmured against her hair when he spoke.  "Do you need me to encourage you?  Maybe start with getting those purple panties off, using my teeth, hmm?"

[Harlequin]

Nimm realized, belatedly, then, that she\'d been mistaken in trusting him to behave himself. Her heart jumped in her chest when he touched her, and her breathing hitched. So much for the game.

And how did he move that fast? She hadn\'t even blinked, and he was just there, up against her.

"I don\'t think that would be a good idea," she said, by way of an answer, and attempted to step away, turning her body to face him as she did so "I think I should go. My job is done," she said, rather abruptly "And I, uhm, forfeit my turn, this round." He was an attractive specimen indeed, she would give him that, but she much preffered coffee shop boys who wrote her haiku poems, and whose behaviour  was as unthreatening as could be. Tom, she could see, was in no way that sort of man. She could see him fucking her raw for a week and then stealing all her money and her car while she slept it off, but not making her coffee in the morning.

[Existentially Odd]

He allowed her to step beyond his reach, not interested in forcing her into anything; the challenge was to have her come willingly after all.  He didn\'t say anything for a moment, waiting to see whether she meant business or not.  Perhaps she was too scared to replace the light stuff with him standing there looking at her, but whether she couldn\'t chance bending over before him or whether she really wanted to keep playing, the fact remained that she was still staring warily at him.  So he looked back, his smile a subtle thing dancing about his wide lips as he looked her up and down (like she was naked anyway).

"You\'re right.  That wouldn\'t be a good idea... it would be a great one.  I could be the first great idea you had tonight, if you\'d let me.  You forfeited your round; I have lots more questions, though.  Like... if I wanted to get you dripping and ready for me to slide into you within... say... ten minutes, where is the best place to put my tongue?  And how hard should I flick? Answer honestly, now," he teased, gaze shifting from her eyes to her crotch like her clit was already on display and pulsing for him.

[Harlequin]

"My ears," Nimm told him, hesitantly, now safely out of arm\'s reach, "Wrists and throat. Why do you keep pursuing me?"

She knelt again, always keeping a wary eye on her tall pursuer, "And you only get one question per round. At this stage I\'m refusing to answer the other one, and asking that you keep your hands away from me," Her eyes went to her tools as she reproached him, starting to pack them away into her toolbox.

[Existentially Odd]

He made a very obvious show of putting his hands in his pockets, watching her through lidded eyes as she went about tidying up her workspace.  "You can\'t ask two questions either - though I can tell you I don\'t rely heavily on my hands as instruments of pleasure anyway.  You restricting their access isn\'t much of a deterrant but... if it turns you on... "  He broke off and tilted his head as he regarded her, getting to her first question only after she\'d packed her things away and closed her tool box.  He wanted her attention when he spoke.

"I pursue you because I can.  Because I want to.  You\'re sexy and quite different - in numerous interesting ways - but also because your breathing changes and your pulse leaps whenever I touch you.  I can\'t help but wonder what you would do if I backed you up against that wall and slid  my knee up between your thighs while I tongued your ears and rocked my hard cock against you," he told her, having been attempting a conversational tone but only managing to give away the fact that what he said turned him on, when his voice became rougher.  His gaze was definitely hungry.

[Harlequin]

"It was not a question," Nimm told him distractedly, "It was a request." She fiddled nervously with the buttons on her workshirt before forcing her hands to be still, "And you\'ve only touched me once; my reaction could well have been surprise." and this was true enough, she had been very surprised indeed. but it wasn\'t just that, it was his attitude. No one had ever treated her as he was, and something in the back of her mind was incredibly attracted to the danger there.

The fixit girl couldn\'t help but recall the work of Freud. The way he related everything back to the dynamics of sex -- no doubt he would have loved to have taken notes on this encounter.

She let her gaze travel over his frame, taking in the strength of his thighs, his obvious desire for her, the muscular planes of his chest. Oh, but this could be such fun.

She realized, then, that she was still kneeling -- practically at his feet -- and hastily stood up. "I\'ll take that as you question, then," she told him as evenly as she could, "If you chose to take that course, there could be three outcomes; I could kick and scream and yell rape at the top of my lungs, I could turn my head, request that you step back, or I could --" She took a steadying breath, biting her bottom lip for a second, "-- submit. Only one out of those three is a favorable outcome for you. Are the odds good enough?"

[Existentially Odd]

"Three, really," he corrected her, his eyes glittering nastily.  "Technically, you could scream your ass off and no-one would care if I was raping you or not, because I doubt there\'s anyone in hearing distance.  Maybe my buddy.  But he\'s heard me play enough games with the lady of the house to assume it\'s just another and leave me to it.  If rape was my," he broke off deliberately, giving her a heated look now that she was standing, before finishing, "thing."

He let the statement linger only a moment, then smiled as if he couldn\'t contain the expression any longer.  "Which it it isn\'t, by the way - so you were half right. That leaves two favourable outcomes because... well, I could manage to turn your head, even if you try not to look when I... pin you against the wall and start... kissing you and... rubbing against you."  He took a step closer to her again, wanting to invade her space but leaving a whisper of distance between her breasts - which appeared to be rising and falling a little more rapidly, to his eyes - and him.

"D\'you think I could turn your head, Nimm?" he asked her softly, implying much more with his grin.  He tilted his own head the other way and moved in as if he was going to kiss her, his hands still firmly held within the confines of his pockets.  She still had some backing away room, if she chose to exploit it, but he was getting the feeling she might start to play his games soon.

[Harlequin]

"Oh," she said in a small voice, but she didn\'t step away, as that would have pressed her back against the wall – which she was suddenly all too aware of – in much too short a time.

Her breath was indeed coming faster now, from a mixture of panic and desire. Her bicoloured eyes were wide, pupils dilated. Her fight or flight instinct was in high gear, but she fought it. She was better than her base nature. She was a creator, a philosopher, for God\'s sake! This wasn\'t rational and this wasn\'t safe and this wasn\'t – but his lips did look very soft.

"Yes."  The words were barely a whisper, "But how much do you want to?"