Club Simplicité

Soft-soled leather shoes made almost no sound as they moved back across the terrace and over to the balcony, his hand a constant presence at the small of her back. His companion for the night paused, her pale forearms resting on the railing, to gaze down at the swirling dance floor below - the distance from balcony to floor apparently not enough to trigger her acrophobia.

As she turned to regard him, smile hinting at depths of mischief previously unseen, the effect of the club's lights turned her already-blue eyes into pools of deepest azure. He swirled his whiskey in the tumbler, the amber liquid coating the crystalline walls of its prison, before liberating a small sip.

I like all sorts of interesting, pretty Bruja. Show me something, he paused, considering, intense. I like intense.

"Intense..."

She repeated the word a few times, as if testing how it felt in her mouth, how it sounded in her voice.

"Hmmm...well, intense could mean all manner of things...

Eyes drifting to the hand that held his drink, noting his fingers. Hands...a weakness of hers...
She stepped a little closer, her own fingers rising to remove a non-existant piece of lint from his tie.Bringing her front that much closer to his.

"Intense...makes me think of the extreme...of something forceful..."

A quiet giggle.

"I think I know just the place to show you..."

A playful tug on his tie before she turned and began to walk towards the part of the club where a corridor lay. A corridor with many doors. Behind each was a private room. They were each different, although the decor largely the same. Each room would suit the needs of those that entered.

Interesting. Intense.

She was sure, as walked down the corridor with the warmth of his hand at her back, they would find plenty of both down this darkened hallway.

Going on instinct alone eventually she stopped at a door and smiled up into his face, hand resting on the handle.

"...what say you to this one...?"

he watched the ebb and flow of the crowd, most people were occupied for the moment. People watching could only go so far as entertainment went. After taking a sip from his drink he grimaced. It had gone warm and flat. He passed it to the bartender and requested a new one. He pushed a few dollars across the table. The price, and a tip. When the bartender pushed his drink back be spoke in deep, firm tone.

"You see that girl over there? The one in the suit?"

The man nodded his hear and gave a grin.

"she is mine. If I see you so much as leer at her again I will take a finger. Got it?"

He did not raise his voice but there was force behind what he said. There was no mirth which was normal for him. He was dead serious. He took his drink and took a sip. Turning back to the crowd. He would leave once his drink was finished

The spot smelled of too much cologne. A heady manly scent that left her stomach sour. The exchange had left her cold. She'd been watching, had seen and heard it all, from somewhere in the shadows, where'd she seen her sister dance off in the arms of a dangerous man, the sight of which had left a smile on her face.

That man would eat her alive.

Her beloved sister would enjoy the fuck out of it.

But this most recent exchange... she handed the bartender a very large bill, he looked at her expectantly.

"You're paid to make all the ladies and gentlemen feel sexy. And drunk. You deserve a raise."

She smiled, winked, finished her drink and escaped the cloud of overpowering male cologne out into the night.

As the Witch moved closer, the man could swear that he’d used the lint roller before leaving his maison that morning. Ahh, but when did a woman need an excuse to touch a man’s tie, or shoulder, or thigh. Such innocent touches, so seemingly happenstance…plausible deniability.

There was nothing deniable about her step closer, and he neither could deny, nor desired to deny, that the sight she presented as she moved closer was very pleasurable, indeed. The playful tug on his tie, the enigmatic suggestion of a place to discover, and they were off.

After passing some number of rooms – the place was much larger than it initially seemed from the outside – the Bruja stopped in front of one particular portal, her hand resting lightly on the chrome metal of the handle.

“What say you to this one?”, she’d asked.

He paused, slightly behind her, his hand still resting easily at the small of her back. In the pause between songs, as the DJ allowed the crowd upstairs to catch their collective breath, he could swear that he’d heard what sounded like a low groan, and perhaps the sound of something firmly striking flesh. Well. A grin split his face, and he nodded. “Hell is empty, pretty Witch, and all the devils are here. Let us go in and take our places among them.”

The door swung open smoothly and without a sound, inviting them in to the stillness beyond.
It's decorated in a similar style to the rest of the club. Smooth and sleek, with soft, subtle, blue tinted lighting here and there. Furniture looks modern, straight lined, but comfortable.

Her heels take her inside, their sound hushed by soft carpet, moving over to run fingers over the back of a white leather couch. Taking in the small bar in the corner, the bank of electrical entertainment equipment on one wall and the bed set in a recess towards the other side of the room.

A set of drawers against another wall, it's contents a mystery.

Blue eyes eventually return to the man who has come inside with her. Leaning back to sit on the high back of the couch slightly.

"Well...it seems like a very nice room..."

Fingers lift her glass to her lips and she drains the last from within it. Leaving only ice and a lime slice to swirl around the bottom.

"I think perhaps another drink and then we can see what things of interest we can find in here..."

She walks over to the bar, fixing herself another gin, turning back to him as she takes a sip. A little strong but still good.

"Can I get you another? Or...have you other appetites we should see to first...?

New night, new dress, new outlook. Crossing to the bar, no purse, no expectations--barring that for liquor. Tumbling hair, once again, black stiletto heels.

Bourbon, please. In a big, fat glass.

The room itself was unremarkable, except in the taste and quality of its furnishings. Clearly, the Club’s owners had spared no expense in decorating, and the resulting effect was quite pleasing – the black and white leather and wood of the furniture, lit here and there by the blue theme carried over from the public rooms.

He and the Bruja entered, and the door swung shut behind them with an audible *click*.

A small smile played across the bearded man’s mouth as his companion lounged so delectably against the back of the couch before pushing herself off and moving towards the small wet bar to refill her drink. The pungent aromas of Bombay gin and lime filled the air as she worked at the bar, giving the room a clean scent that somehow still managed to hint at decadence. The smile grew.

She turned back, sipping at her drink, her lips now coated with a fine sheen of tonic, gin, and the blood of the lime. He was fond of gin and tonics, and he stepped towards her, bringing his body close to hers, stopping just before his chest would brush up against her blue lace-covered breasts. “Another? No, thank you. I’d like some of yours, though.” He brought his left hand up, cupping the back of her head, and lowered his mouth to hers, his tongue flicking out to lick a few droplets of the tart drink from her lips.

Brit couldn't help but grin as he drew nearer, watching the confident sway of his body as he walked. The smile that bowed his mouth, the sparkle that danced in his eyes.

“Another? No, thank you. I’d like some of yours, though.”

She was about to offer up her glass for him to sip from when the motion of his arm stopped that process while it was still a thought. His hand felt large against her head, strong but careful. An almost shy smile curved her lips a fraction of a second before his own touched them.

A soft giggle at the tickling touch of his tongue. Her lips parting and inviting him to taste a little more deeply while her tongue snaked forward to brush his. Tasting the rich flavour of his own drink, of the whisky, lingering there.

Hand reached behind her to place her glass carefully upon the bar, out of harms way, leaving both hands free to lightly reach out and rest on the front of his jacket.

Sighing a little as her tongue met his again.

No giggling this time.

The Tigress stepped out of the cab, reaching into her back pocket to pull out the fee in cash. She turned as the cab drove away, looking up at the club from the outside. The white tee shirt fit her like a second skin, the folded sleeves squeezing around lean biceps, accenting them. The loose gray vest hung loose around her shoulders, matching the mens blue jeans that hug lean hips. The ensemble was completed with a simple black tie. Brunette locks spilled around her shoulders, untamed. She smiled softly to herself, making one last adjustment to the tie before walking inside.

She nodded to the bouncer and he opened the door for her. She was instantly surrounded by music, and she closed her eyes for a moment, letting the song fill her. The club was alive with guests, as always, and when the Tigress opened her eyes again, she weaved in and out of them until she found the bar. She looks up to the bartender, emerald eyes catching his. A shy smile touched her lips.

Malibu and pineapple, please.

Coming back in from the terrace, she fluffed out her hair where it had caught around her neck. The weather had been warm enough to take in the remarkable view, and the wind had been blessedly minor. Time enough for blowsy curls - her red ones were gentle and trailed over pale shoulders. The dress had been chosen for that very reason, and she enjoyed the feeling of strands slipping down her collarbone. The interior of the club was cool and encouraging, people milling about in various states of dress and inebriation. The heels were a daring choice for her, but lovely, and so she couldn't resist them. They helped her move with easy grace towards the bar, with no particular target, until she spied a certain Cat.

A certain Cat with a very distracting tie.

Well, she always knew how to leave her breathless.

She stopped by a group, an idle hostess, inquiring after drinks and general satisfaction. Everything was deemed more than acceptable, and laughing, she left them.

The scent of lavender would precede her, she knew. Coming up behind her target, she allowed her eyes to fall over the shining hair, the white collar, the dip of her waist as visible from the back of the chair. Pink lips twitched. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, a Cat was nodding and laughing. She shook her head at her own folly and drifted her arms down around a graceful neck, looped her fingers in the black line of fabric. Her nose nuzzled aside the velvet locks and her teeth scraped against an earlobe. But no biting. Not yet.

Hi, Kitty Cat.

Her voice was bright, but low enough that the words were only for their intended target.

Having a nice time?

A tug from her hands, playful. The troublesome barman surged up to the front, rag dutifully wiping down the surface.

A drink, Miss?

Her throat purred with annoyance but she glanced up at him, straightening her posture so her arms rested lightly on Cat's shoulders.

A few fingers of Knob, please.

She smiled at Cat as he went away.

Nadia sounds pretty, no?

She watched as the bartender moved around, seemingly taking his time for such a simple request. But she knew this particular employee was often ornery. That was fine with her. It was his loss in tip. When her drink was finally presented to her, she slid money across the bar, with a significantly less amount in tip than she would have offered a more attentive server. She didn't usually dock servers out of their money. She had spent a great deal of her career in customer service. She valued the patience it took and she always showed it in her tip. But sometimes, a tip just needed to be cut. She was taking her first sip when she caught it, the scent of lavender. A soft smile touched her lips just before arms slipped around her shoulders, fingertips trapping themselves in the simple black fabric that hung around her neck.

Those teeth....they scraped against her ear, causing it to twitch, sending a wave of heat surging through that entire side of her body. The beauty knew how to use them. She would return the favor, when the time was right. Her thoughts drifted to that time, and a low, dangerous smile danced upon her lips. She leaned back just a bit, turning her cheek into the other woman's, nuzzling lightly. Her voice was low, just loud enough for Tess to hear.

Hey, pretty lady. I just got here, but I don't doubt it'll be a good time tonight. How about yourself?

Her chest moved forward, just an inch, at the playful tug. She chuckled, enjoying it. What was the point of wearing a tie if there wasn't anyone to tug on it? But as that voice filled her ear, she paid a bit more attention to the music and nodded.

She's a wee bit awesome, sugar. I'm glad you like her, too. What are you up to tonight?

The barman minced back over and left a drink. She took a few bills from her clasp and tucked them neatly next to his hand. He was then promptly ignored, and left in a snit. Her hands passed down over the Cat's arms, stroking once before moving beyond the chair. She turned and leaned against the bar with her drink, listening to the hiss of bourbon in her throat before she spoke.

I should get rid of him but I guess I'm whimsical. Normally I'm much more behaved than this. And I'm fine, very pleased with the weekend.

Her teeth gleamed in a smile next to the glass rim, her eyes watching Cat before her lashes lowered and whiskey hit her tongue. She swallowed, looking down at the line of her leg, tilting her head to see where her foot disappeared into her shoe.

Feeling a bit underdressed. You look gorgeous, as usual.

A blush, then, slight, but there. It appeared along her cheekbones and then disappeared, where she could blame it on the heat of the liquor.

And it's a beautiful night, too.

She leans back in her chair as those hands slide down her arms. Her skin is warm beneath the touch, toned muscle beneath soft skin. She raises her gaze to the bartender as the drink is delivered, currency exchanged. She chuckles lightly.

He makes you money. He's an ass, but as long as he does his job for everyone else, he's worth keeping.

She watches as the beauty moves into her line of sight, leaning back into the bar. She lets her gaze wonder and she doesn't bother to hide it. Nor does she pretend it was polite. She let the greed show, the appreciation, the hunger. She drank in the dress and the impossibly high heels that she wouldn't be able to even manage for ten minutes. She took a drink, swallowing the thoughts that the outfit brought with the drink. When her gaze returned to Tess' eyes, they were friendly once again.

No where near as gorgeous as you. We can go outside, if you want. I haven't been beyond this room, actually. You could show me your favorite spots.

Walking into the club pausing momentarily at her reflection, her new silky white dress fell on her body as it was made for her. It barely came down to her mid-thigh. Normally she wouldn’t dare ware something this revealing but she looked so gorgeous in it. This would attract a companion for the night; it would be appreciated here. It was sleeveless with a single strap curving around her neck.

Making it opening day and then nothing…typical Merla.

Quickly stopping by the bar, seeing the same man behind the bar was a relief, quickly ordering her favorite.

English Bulldog, if you’d be so kind.

A smile, wink, and a few extra bucks as the last drink he served her was one of the best. Grabbing the finished drink with a small nod, a few strands of hair fell in front of her face. She had left her hair down today, which didn’t happen very often. Work kept it up but she was here to play, which meant her long brunette hair was laying straight down her back.

Spotting her previous perch, her body urged her to take the spectators seat once again. She didn’t want to sit on the side lines; there were so many places to explore. Smiling at the chair that would not have her she slowly walked towards the doorway behind the dance floor. She had seen others walk through here and hoped she find someone else who wished to explore.