` UNTAMEABLE (JUNIPER)

[CONNOR SELWYN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 400px; padding: 10px; background-color: #202020; border-radius: 100%; -moz-border-radius-: 100%; -webkit-border-radius: 100%;] untameable I can’t be tamed, I can never, don’t touch touch, rush it, rush it My eyes that arouse you even from far away, guilty guilty Your thirsty face starts sweating And your flesh is on the tip of my sharp fingers the bubble explodes REAVER SPLASHED THROUGH THE WAVES THAT RUSHED TOWARD THE ENTRANCE TO THE CAVE, SPLASHING WATER UP ONTO THE WALLS AS CONNOR SAT SILENTLY WATCHING THE OCEAN. HE'D COME HERE TO MAKE A DEAL, AND THAT WAS RARE FROM HIM. HE WASN'T THE TYPE OF LEADER TO MAKE DEALS: HE EITHER GOT WHAT HE WANTED OR HE WALKED. OR SOMEONE ENDED UP DYING. CONNOR SELWYN DID NOT TAKE 'NO' AS AN ACCEPTABLE ANSWER. HE WAS KNOWN THROUGHOUT THE UNDERGROUND FOR HIS RUTHLESSNESS, HIS HEARTLESSNESS, AND HIS INABILITY TO FEEL REMORSE. IT WAS RUMOURED HE FELT NOTHING AT ALL, BUT HE WOULDN'T ARGUE OR CONFIRM SUCH SUSPICIONS. GOSSIP WAS BELOW HIM. DIGGING HIS FEET INTO THE SAND, HE LEANED HIS HEAD BACK AND TOOK A DEEP LONG BREATH OF THE SALTY SEA AIR. HE'D LONG AGO SHOT THE IDIOT WHO'D COME TO DELIVER THE MESSAGE THAT THE DEAL WASN'T GOING TO GO DOWN. IT WAS JUST SOME NAMELESS ITALIAN SERVANT, BUT HE'D FELT THE DESIRE TO SEND A MESSAGE. SO HE'D SHOT THE MAN THROUGH THE JAW, PERMANENTLY IMPAIRING HIS SPEECH, AND WRITTEN A NOTE IN THE MAN'S BLOOD, PINNING IT TO HIS SHIRT FOR HIS MASTERS TO READ. THE MESSAGE WAS CLEAR: THE MESSENGER WOULD BE SHOT, AND CONNOR SELWYN WOULD NOT BE DENIED AGAIN OR FAR WORSE WOULD HAPPEN. NEXT TIME IT WOULDN'T BE SOME PEON HE SHOT. LEANING BACK ON HIS HANDS, BRACING HIMSELF IN THE SAND, HE WATCHED HIS IRISH WOLFHOUND JUMPING HAPPILY THROUGH THE WAVES. IT HAD BEEN A WHILE SINCE HE'D BEEN ALONE: PROBABLY SINCE BEFORE HIS FATHER HAD DIED. THE MEMORY OF THAT DAY STUNG CONNOR AS IT HIT HIM, AND HE GROUND HIS TEETH TOGETHER IN IRRITATION. HE COULD SEE HIS FATHER'S GREEN EYES - SO SIMILAR TO HIS OWN - STARING UP AT HIM, DEMANDING HIM TO SHOOT HIM. 'DA, I CAN GET YOU OUT OF THERE, JUST HOLD ON-' 'FUCK THAT, SON. DO IT. I DON' WANNA BE HERE ALIVE WHEN THEY COME.' 'I... I HAVE TO HELP YOU...' 'CONNOR,' HIS FATHER HAD GIVEN HIM THAT LOOK THAT SAID DON'T-ARGUE-WITH-ME-AND-DO-AS-I-SAY. LIFTING HIS WEAK ARM FROM THE GROUND, HE SLAPPED HIS HANDGUN INTO CONNOR'S HAND, LEAVING BEHIND THE BLOODY TRAIL OF HIS FINGERS AS HIS HAND FELL BACK TO THE GROUND. 'END IT. NOW.' GATHERING HIS RESOLVE, KNOWING INWARDLY HIS FATHER WAS RIGHT DESPITE HOW BADLY HE WANTED HIM TO BE WRONG, CONNOR LIFTED THE GUN, AIMED IT BETWEEN HIS FATHER'S EYES, AND FIRED. RUBBING HIS RIGHT HAND WHERE HE SUBCONSCIOUSLY TRIED TO WIPE AWAY THOSE BLOODY FINGER PRINTS HE COULD STILL SEE IN HIS MIND, HE ABSENTLY WATCHED HIS DOG CANTERING AROUND IN THE WATER. HE WOULD NEED TO LEAVE SOON IF HE WAS GOING TO GET BACK TO HIS BASE TO FINISH UP BUSINESS. HE HATED THE PAPERWORK SIDE OF THIS NEW DUTY OF HIS. HE'D MUCH PREFERRED DOING THE KILLING AND LETTING SOMEONE ELSE PUSH THE PAPER TO COVER IT UP. OFFICE WORK HAD NEVER APPEALED TO HIM, AND HE'D PRETTY MUCH ONLY ATTENDED COLLEGE BECAUSE HIS FATHER HAD PUSHED HIM TO DO SO. NOW, HE WAS THANKFUL HE'D LISTENED TO HIS FATHER, BUT AT THE TIME HE HADN'T UNDERSTOOD THE VALUE OF SCHOOL. IF HE COULD SHOOT AN ENEMY AT SIXTY YARDS AWAY, THEN WHY DID HE NEED TO KNOW CALCULUS OR CHEMISTRY? HE WAS INTELLIGENT, AND HE HAD THE EDUCATION TO MAKE HIM FORMIDABLE, BUT HE WAS HOT-BLOODED AND ACTED BEFORE THINKING A LOT OF THE TIME. HE'D NEVER BEEN A THINKER LIKE HIS FATHER. HE WAS MORE OF A DO-ER LIKE HIS UNCLE KIPPER HAD BEEN BEFORE HE LOST HIS MIND AFTER CONNOR'S FATHER'S DEATH. BUT ATTENDING COLLEGE HAD GIVEN HIM THE OPPORTUNITY TO GET HIS FOOT INTO THE DOOR AS AN INTERN AT THE DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE WHERE HE WAS ABLE TO LEARN SO MANY SPARKLY NEW THINGS TO BENEFIT HIS UNDERGROUND LIFE. PLUS, CHEMISTRY HAD HELPED HIM OUT IN MANY WAYS HE'D NEVER IMAGINED. HE KNEW AT LEAST FIVE DIFFERENT WAYS TO DISPOSE OF A BODY... PERMANENTLY. THAT KNOWLEDGE CERTAINLY CAME IN HANDY IN HIS LINE OF WORK. AN EXCITED BARK BROUGHT THE YOUNG IRISH MAN OUT OF HIS DAYDREAMING, AND HE LOOKED CALMLY UP TO SEE REAVER CHASING A SMALLER CREATURE WHICH HE RECOGNIZED AS A BULLDOG PUPPY. REAVER BATTED AT THE BULLDOG, SENDING IT ROLLING, AND CONNOR SNORTED IN AMUSEMENT. HOWEVER, THE PUPPY WASN'T ALONE IT SEEMED. BEFORE LONG, ITS OWNER SHOWED UP, AND SHE DID NOT APPEAR TO BE TOO THRILLED OVER THE SHOW OF DOMINANCE HIS IRISH WOLFHOUND WAS CURRENTLY DISPLAYING OVER HER PRECIOUS LITTLE PET. SHE DIDN'T SEEM TO NOTICE HIM IMMEDIATELY, SO HE SAT CALMLY IN THE SAND UNTIL SHE'D COME TO A POINT HE KNEW SHE WOULD BE ABLE TO HEAR HIM. "SEEMS HE LIKES HER," HE COMMENTED, RAISING HIS EYEBROWS IN AMUSEMENT AS REAVER ROLLED THE PUPPY WITH HIS LARGE PAWS AGAIN.

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[hblood]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #a0a0a0 solid 30px; ] Bad bitches, I'm your leader. WORDS 785 - - - - - - - TAGGED CONNOR Juniper was considerably warming up to California as she slowly unrevealed herself to the town around her. At first, she felt that where she landed was not very welcoming (it wasn’t, she didn’t get any sort of welcome besides a glare from a few catty women, but she found there were people within its boundaries that she general enjoyed to be around. She made a new friend, a police officer she enjoyed as her new go-to guy to listen to her talk about anything and they would have “casual sex” to just fill the need. At first, Juniper just wanted him once, but sometimes when you hang out things just happen. There wasn’t anyone there to stop her from doing foolish things; she was all on her own. And lately she had been feeling the burden of being on her own without business partners or anything. Economic meltdowns abroad made her job harder as these struggling business came at it her in an onslaught of large number batches for someone to find some way to save them before they went belly up. She slept so little, she worked hours and she didn’t have time to cook herself quality meals unless she had a guest come over or it was a meal she could stretch out for multiple days. She wasn’t poor, but there wasn’t any downtime when you had three businesses going at once and you were in the middle or purchasing a space and creating a fourth one. She was a tired woman and this walk on the beach would help her relax. Today she decided was warm enough to walk along the beach with Lemon leading the way. Her puppy became the light of her life on days when work was too much for Juniper. The little bulldog lit up a room when her wrinkly butt waddled in. Sometimes she was dragging in a bone, other time she was parading with a sock. Juniper would giggle and play tug of war, losing yet another sock but she knew that it was replaceable. The hardest thing for her was training the puppy to go outside for the bathroom and not in the restricted areas that her grapes were growing or were going to be growing out of. It was difficult, so she was glad she was able to bring the puppy here to a wide open space. Juniper let her dark brown locks fall in curled and streams that picked up the rays of the sun to brighten them, but only by a slight difference in shade. Her hair was getting long, a little too long for her tastes but it didn’t cause her too much discomfort as she flicked it off her shoulders. It wasn’t warm enough for her to go in a bikini, not even warm enough for shorts and a camisole – she wore jeans that hug to her curves, they fit right and they made her look “easy on the eyes.” Her shirt showed her cleavage and she got a thing jacket over her shirt. However her mind was far from where boots pressed down into the sand, she was zoned out thinking about working, work, work, and more work. She wanted a break – she almost felt desperate enough to lure Caleb out for meaningless sex because it wasn’t work and it was something that felt good. The sounds of her puppy yipping, barking, and whining caused Juniper to resurface and hurry on over. This beast was on top of her puppy, trying to play most likely, but her puppy was so small in comparison to the dog. Then he tried humping her, but sadly that was just nothing but air. She was about to intervene when she heard the owner of this dog call out to her. Seems to like her, alright, perhaps the dog was lonely, but he was too big for a little thing like her puppy. “He may like her, but he’s too big of a dog for a little thing like her.” Juniper snapped at him, going down to put herself between the two dogs before picking up her battered pup and holding her like a football. The puppy didn’t seem to mind much, she was happier that she was only somewhat out of reach from the other dog. “Can’t you read the signs? Keep your dog on a leash? I don't care if this section isn't as busy, it's still a rule.” Juniper had Lemon on her leash, but it had been one of those one that extend for a few good feet and she zoned out. It was her fault too, but since she already snapped at the man, she wouldn’t back down now. Phantom by the meter.

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN @ CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY GUNGOR

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[CONNOR SELWYN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 400px; padding: 10px; background-color: #202020; border-radius: 100%; -moz-border-radius-: 100%; -webkit-border-radius: 100%;] untameable I can’t be tamed, I can never, don’t touch touch, rush it, rush it My eyes that arouse you even from far away, guilty guilty Your thirsty face starts sweating And your flesh is on the tip of my sharp fingers the bubble explodes CONNOR KNEW WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO BE EXHAUSTED, BUT HE WAS NEVER TOO EXHAUSTED TO LUST AFTER A WOMAN. HE WAS A SEX MANIAC, MUCH LIKE HIS UNCLE KIPPER HAD BEEN BEFORE THE OLDER MAN HAD LOST HIS MIND FOLLOWING THE DEATH OF KYSON, CONNOR'S FATHER. THE ENTIRE SELWYN FAMILY HAD BEEN ON THE VERGE OF FALLING APART. HIS MOTHER MOVED BACK TO IRELAND, HIS UNCLE KIPPER MOVED WITH HER TO BE CARED FOR SINCE HE ONLY RETAINED ABOUT HALF OF HIS MIND, AND HIS SIBLINGS HAD BEEN SPREAD ACROSS THE STATES IN A RAMSHACKLE MANNER. HIS YOUNGEST BROTHER AND HIS SISTER WERE BOTH CURRENTLY IN NEW ORLEANS, AND HE'D RECENTLY RECEIVED WORD THE OLDER OF HIS YOUNGER BROTHERS WOULD BE MOVING TO SAPPHIRE BAY TO 'WATCH OVER' HIM, AS KAHLAN SO KINDLY PUT IT. HE DIDN'T NEED A DAMN BABYSITTER. HE COULD DEAL WITH HIS FATHER'S DEATH ON HIS OWN. HE WOULD NEVER TELL ANYONE HOW IT HAD TORN HIM APART TO SHOOT HIS FATHER BETWEEN THE EYES: HOW KYSON HAD STARED HIM DOWN, DEMANDING THAT HE MURDER HIM SO THE MAN WOULDN'T HAVE TO SUFFER. HOW DID A SON KILL HIS OWN FATHER AND COME OUT UNSCATHED? HE DIDN'T. BUT CONNOR SELWYN WAS NO NORMAL MAN. HE HAD BEEN HONED FROM CHILDHOOD TO BE A FINE-TUNED KILLING MACHINE, FROM HIS RUTHLESS INSTINCT TO HIS POWERFUL MUSCULAR BUILD. EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM SPOKE: PREDATOR. HE WAS THE TOP OF THE FOOD CHAIN, AND HE PLANNED TO REMAIN THERE FOR QUITE SOME TIME. AS THE FEMALE BENT AND RETRIEVED HER PUPPY, CLEARLY PERTURBED AT BOTH THE INTERRUPTION AND ITS NATURE, CONNOR OPENLY ADMIRED HER CLEAVAGE. SHE COULDN'T SEE HIM WATCHING, AND HE DIDN'T GIVE A DAMN IF SHE COULD. HER BODY WAS SOMETHING HE'D LIKE TO GRIND INTO THE SAND OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND HE WASN'T GOING TO TRY TO HIDE IT. HE'D NEVER BEEN THE TYPE OF MAN TO HIDE ANYTHING OTHER THAN HIS TRUE IDENTITY, AND HE DIDN'T PLAN ON STARTING NOW. He may like her, but he’s too big of a dog for a little thing like her, SHE COMMENTED AS SHE SOOTHED HER BULLDOG AND REAVER BARKED EXCITEDLY AROUND HER FEET. CONNOR ROSE FROM THE SAND, WIPING THE PELLETS FROM HIS PANTS, AND WALKED TOWARD HER, SNAPPING HIS FINGERS SO THE IRISH WOLFHOUND INSTANTLY JUMPED TO HIS SIDE. "SIZE IS ONLY A MATTER OF MIND," HE REPLIED, RAISING AN EYEBROW AND SMILING AT THE DOUBLE-MEANING OF HIS WORDS AS THEY LEFT HIS TONGUE IN THEIR RICH IRISH LILT. "IF YOU DON'T MIND, IT DON'T MATTER." TILTING HIS HEAD AND OFFERING HER A SMILE, HE REACHED DOWN AND ABSENTLY PETTED REAVER'S FLUFFY HEAD. HE'D ALWAYS PREFERRED BIG, FLUFFY DOGS TO THE SMALLER, SHORTER HAIRED BREEDS. PLUS, HE HAD AN AFFINITY FOR THE DOGS OF THE SAME ORIGIN AS HIM: IRELAND. HIS PRIDE IN HIS HOMELAND WAS POWERFUL AND STRONG, OVERPOWERING HIS LOVE OF ANYTHING ELSE. IN FACT, HE COULDN'T ADMIT TO LOVING ANYTHING OTHER THAN HIS GUN OR HIS FAMILY, BUT IRELAND WAS IN THAT ELITE CATEGORY. Can’t you read the signs? Keep your dog on a leash? I don't care if this section isn't as busy, it's still a rule. SHE ASKED THE QUESTION IN A TONE HE COULD CLEARLY READ AS IRRITATED, AND IT MADE HIM SMILE. HER IRRITATION SET WELL WITH HER, DEEPENING THE LINES ON HER FACE AND MAKING HER MORE ATTRACTIVE THAN SHE ALREADY WAS. HE HAD TO ADMIT HE OFTEN THOUGHT WOMEN WERE MORE BEAUTIFUL WHEN THEY WERE ANGRY THAN OTHERWISE. SMILING WAS OVERRATED. A PASSIONATE GROWL OR A BROW DRAWN DOWN WHILE SHE WAS ON TOP OF HIM FAR OUTWEIGHED A CHEEKY GRIN ANY DAY. "DO YOU ALWAYS FOLLOW THE RULES NOW, LASSY?" HE ASKED, STEPPING CLOSER TO HER. "THAT'S DISAPPOINTING." ALTHOUGH HE WAS A BRUTAL KILLER IN HIS SECRET LIFE, HE WAS A PASSIONATE LOVER ALL THE TIME. THE PASSIONS HE THREW INTO KILLING WERE EQUIVALENT TO THOSE HE FELT WHEN HE FUCKED A GIRL, AND HE WAS VERY GOOD AT BOTH. HE COULD ALSO BE QUITE THE CHARMER WHEN HE FELT LIKE IT, AND SOMETIMES HIS JOB DEMANDED AS MUCH OUT OF HIM. RIGHT NOW, HOWEVER, AS HE ADMIRED THE FEMALE THE WORLD HAD PLOPPED DOWN IN FRONT OF HIM, HE COULDN'T HELP REMEMBERING HOW LONG IT HAD BEEN SINCE HE'D HAD A GOOD FUCK. HE'D NEVER 'MADE LOVE' TO A WOMAN - THAT WAS FOR WEAKER MEN WHO GOT THEIR FEELINGS INVOLVED - AND HE DIDN'T INTEND TO START NOW. BUT BUSINESS HAD GOTTEN IN THE WAY SINCE HE'D TAKEN OVER IN HIS FATHER'S STEAD, AND HE HADN'T HAD THE CHANCE TO SETTLE HIS BASER LUSTS. NOW SEEMED AS GOOD A TIME AS ANY. "THIS IS A RELATIVELY DESERTED AREA OF THE BEACH," HE COMMENDED, GLANCING INTO THE CAVE BEHIND HIM AND OUT TO THE WAVES THAT LAPPED AROUND THE CAVE'S ENTRANCE. "JUST OUT FOR A STROLL, WERE YA?"

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[hblood]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #a0a0a0 solid 30px; ] Bad bitches, I'm your leader. WORDS 780 - - - - - - - TAGGED CONNOR Juniper was the only child of her father’s second marriage and all of her half-siblings he had with his first wife never acknowledged Juniper as their sister. She lived a life of pampering and it made her lonely – siblings were something other children took for granted or were bothered by their siblings. Juniper, growing up with other only children in Manhattan never knew what it was like to have a family with more than just her and her parents. She always had attention from her parents and it was never divided by another child. It was all about her and now that she was on the other side of the continent, they stopped paying attention to her. She was lonely, but whenever she was in her teen years and she felt herself getting this way she turned her need for attention and appreciation to the type of person who could satisfy her needs the fastest: men. However, she wasn’t looking for that attention openly from other men besides Caleb. He was enough to satisfy her and she didn’t have any strings attached to him. They were friends, as oddly as it sounded. She didn’t get concerned about him past a certain level, whereas boyfriends she expected a little more effort on their part. Their relationship was simple: hangout, eat some grub, watch a game, or have sex. It was all they did together and they kept little contact. She was aware that there was someone else, another female, that Caleb gave his time (and his penis) too. She wasn’t dominating him and oddly enough, even when dating someone she didn’t dominate that guy either. She was an odd variety of girlfriend, because she understood what “space” was. And she understood the allure of having a “fuck buddy.” Someone to fill the need and then leave – she did it to other boyfriends when things were stale. She let past boyfriends have other women and even when she lost that man to that woman, she let it roll of her shoulders. She knew the telltale signs when the buddy came before her. Once they kissed, her boyfriend and his little pal, it was all she wrote. Kissing was intimate and personal. Juniper didn’t kiss Caleb, she didn’t want his lips. She wanted his dick and she was more than open to tell him that’s all she wanted. Once he didn’t give her orgasms, if he didn’t give her the thrills, she didn’t want him anymore either than past a guy to go to a ballgame with. He was a nice enough guy, Caleb was, but they didn’t have much in common – the more she got to know him the more she understood how their upbringings were significantly different and what they wanted out of life was different. Juniper, behind the pretty shell was a woman of power and would keep climbing until she was satisfied that people knew her name, knew of her work, her wealth, and admittedly, by then of a man of some worth that she married and their children. She knew she wanted a bit much, but it was attainable. Did she think this guy with his monstrously large dog would help her get there? Not at all – he seemed like a bully. “While I agree that getting worked up over size is a matter of mind, you should acknowledge your dog is exponentially larger than my little puppy here and that he has considerably more force than he realizes behind his playful banter. We could handle it just fine if it weren’t such an uneven advantage.” Juniper ran her hands along Lemon’s large forehead wrinkles before listening to what the man had to say. “No, I don’t always follow the rules. Sometimes when you’re in the world I live in, you have to play dirty. Businesses don’t spring up on good morals and hard work alone, you have to add in some sins.” She stepped back as he stepped forward, not out of intimidation or anything of the like. She didn’t plan on spending any more time necessary talking than she wanted. They were just walking and ended up this far out because of Juniper’s daydreaming. “Why ask a question where the answer is obvious. Yes, we were out for a stroll, and we’ll be on our way now so you can your dog can go about your own business. Good day.” She made an irritated growl in her throat as she turned to head back to civilization. She didn’t like men who acted like predators and she was their prey. She had gone this long without getting raped or harmed by shady guys like the Irish creeper. Phantom by the meter.

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN @ CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY GUNGOR

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[CONNOR SELWYN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 400px; padding: 10px; background-color: #202020; border-radius: 100%; -moz-border-radius-: 100%; -webkit-border-radius: 100%;] untameable I can’t be tamed, I can never, don’t touch touch, rush it, rush it My eyes that arouse you even from far away, guilty guilty Your thirsty face starts sweating And your flesh is on the tip of my sharp fingers the bubble explodes CONNOR HAD NEVER BEEN THE TYPE OF MAN TO WORRY ABOUT LONELINESS. BEING ALONE HAD BEEN A BIG PART OF HIS 'OCCUPATION' AS A SOLDIER IN HIS FATHER'S ARMY, AND THEN SINCE HE'D BECOME THE LEADER. HIS SECOND-IN-COMMAND AND OTHERS OFTEN TOLD HIM HE SHOULD THINK ABOUT FINDING AN OLD LADY, BUT HE HAD NO DESIRE TO DO SO. WHY TIE HIMSELF DOWN TO ONE LASS WHEN HE COULD SCREW THEM ALL? HE DIDN'T WANT ANY TIES; CONNECTIONS TO PEOPLE MADE A PERSON WEAK, AND CONNOR SELWYN WAS ANYTHING BUT WEAK. HE COULD GUN DOWN A TARGET IN COLD BLOOD AND HE'D KILLED HIS OWN FATHER... HE COULD HANDLE ANYTHING. BUT LOVE WAS SOMETHING HE REFUSED TO SHOULDER. HE KNEW IT WOULD BE YET ANOTHER THING HE COULD HANDLE, IF HE WANTED, BUT HE HAD NO DESIRE TO BE IN LOVE. LOVE WAS FOR WEAKLINGS WHO HAD NOTHING ELSE TO LIVE FOR. AS HE WATCHED JUNIPER SCOOP HER PUPPY INTO HER ARMS AND HEARD REAVER WHINE FOR HIS RECENTLY ACQUIRED PLAYMATE, CONNOR SMILED IN THOUGHT. HE DIDN'T LOOK AT THE GIRL AS A POTENTIAL MATE, BUT MORE OF A POTENTIAL LONGTERM FLING OF SORTS. HE COULD IMAGINE HIMSELF FUCKING HER FOR MANY NIGHTS TO COME, BUT THAT WOULD HAVE TO COME LATER OF COURSE. HE COULDN'T GET HER IN BED BY SIMPLY WILLING IT. HIS WILL WAS STRONG, BUT NOT QUITE THAT STRONG. THE CHARM HE POSSESSED INHERENTLY, BEING IRISH AS WELL AS BEING DESCENDED FROM THE LEGENDARY CHARMER KIPPER SELWYN, WOULD AID HIM IN HIS ENDEAVOR TO BED HER. THEN THEY COULD BOTH BEG EACH OTHER FOR MORE. "AN UNFAIR ADVANTAGE CAN BE FUN IN ITS OWN WAY," HE COMMENTED WITH A SMILE. "YOU CAN'T FAULT A MAN FOR HIS SIZE." WITH A SHRUG, HE SLIPPED HIS HANDS INTO HIS POCKETS AND SMILED BENIGNLY AT HER. SHE LOOKED LIKE THE TYPE OF WOMAN WHO COULD HANDLE HERSELF ALTHOUGH SHE PLAYED IT OFF. WHEN SHE MENTIONED THE BUSINESS WORLD, HE KNEW WHY SHE HAD THAT AIR OF CONFIDENCE. APPARENTLY SHE'D DONE HER PART IN MAKING A NAME FOR HERSELF. "AND YOU HAVE SINS... DO YOU?" HE ASKED, RAISING HIS EYEBROWS AND SMILING HIS CHARMING SMILE. THE WAVES WASHED UP OVER HIS FEET NOW AND REAVER WHINED AT HIS SIDE. HIS FLUFFY GRAY TAIL HAD BEEN WAGGING NONSTOP SINCE HE'D DISCOVERED THE PUPPY, AND HE WAS IMPATIENT TO PLAY AGAIN. "YOU DON'T HAVE TO RUSH AWAY. I DON'T BITE," HE ANSWERED EASILY AS SHE TURNED TO LEAVE. HE DIDN'T PARTICULARLY CARE IF SHE LEFT, BUT HE HAD TO ADMIT HE'D BE MILDLY DISAPPOINTED. AFTER GOING AS LONG AS HE HAD WITHOUT GETTING ANY TAIL, HE COULD CERTAINLY USE SOME, AND ONE AS GOOD LOOKING AS THE ONE THAT HAD WALKED INTO HIS DAY WOULD CERTAINLY BE AN UPSHOT. "I'M CONNOR, BY THE WAY." HE DIDN'T WORRY ABOUT GIVING HIS FIRST NAME AWAY TO STRANGERS. NO ONE COULD TOUCH HIM ANYWAY. IN HIS OWN WAY, HE WAS ABOVE THE LAW. OR WAS THAT BELOW IT? "AND THIS LOVABLE FELLOW IS REAVER, WHO REMAINS QUITE ENAMORED WITH YOUR LITTLE PUP." REAVER WAGGED HARDER UPON HEARING HIS NAME, AND HE STRUGGLED TO KEEP HIMSELF FROM LEAPING UP AFTER THE OBJECT HE WANTED SO BADLY. KNOWING BETTER THAN TO DISOBEY HIS MASTER, THE IRISH WOLFHOUND WHINED DEPRESSEDLY TO HIMSELF AND GAZED LONGINGLY UP AT THE PUPPY. GLANCING DOWN AT HIS DOG AND THEN BACK TO THE YOUNG WOMAN, HE SMILED AT HER ONCE MORE. "WHY DON'T YOU PUT THE PUP BACK DOWN HERE FOR REAVER TO PLAY WITH HER?" HE ASKED, MOTIONING TO THE SAND. "I'LL MAKE SURE HE ISN'T TOO ROUGH WITH HER THIS TIME AROUND." HE OFFERED HER A WINK AND DUG HIS FEET INTO THE SAND. IT WAS TIME TO DANCE.

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[hblood]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #a0a0a0 solid 30px; ] Bad bitches, I'm your leader. WORDS 700 - - - - - - - TAGGED CONNOR Like the day when she went to the park for fresh air, walking along the beach was no different in terms of reasoning why. Juniper needed to escape if only for a few hours, perhaps not even that much time. She was a business woman who had principles and morals she stood by them because it was what he stood for. She had businesses to save from crumbling or even resurrecting the ones that crumbled and desperately wanted to rebuild in one quick and large leap. She had weddings to plan, there was a list and she had appointments to make it to. In all honesty, she didn’t have time to talk this Irish man and his dog, but she was trying to make new friends. He could possibly be a new friend, but her mind wasn’t leaning towards more than that. She had the deputy to sleep with, her new friend, to keep after if she needed one giant, sensual, form of releasing stress. “An unfair advantage can be fun, if you’re the one who has it above your competition or…. Enemy, for that matter.” She ignored the comment about faulting a man for a size because she felt like it could turn into a conversation that was inappropriate for a man she just met. She couldn’t treat everyone like she treated Caleb upon meeting them. She convinced herself that she only acted the way she did with Caleb because he saved her from near death by bear mauling. Therefore, to try to keep herself a decent name and not but anymore tarnish on her reputation, she had to keep her inner lusts inside. As of yet, she didn’t have any urges to pounce on the Irishman, but she didn’t trust herself as she became flightier and flightier the longer she lived in California. She smiled a smile that was more of a smirk that was laced with a devious woman behind it. Of course she had sinned, but it wasn’t something you laid out flat on the table to a person. As nice and caring of a woman she was, she made her living on digging up information and creating strategies to bring a business to the top. She had sins, but it wasn’t something they could talk about when she didn’t know him. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know him or not – this was just a friendly exchange. It would be utterly rude, but perhaps expected of you, to walk away from the owner whose dog was trying to play with your dog. “I have sins, Connor, but there isn’t a soul who hasn’t. if you haven’t feel free to throw the stone, but it won’t stop me.” She set Lemon down, who hid between her legs until she slowly came out. Though Juniper was entirely nervous to let her small bulldog pup play with such a large dog, Juniper assumed it could be fine. As long as her dog’s head didn’t find itself in the mouth of the beast, she would allow them to play until the puppy was tired or it was too much. Watching the puppy run, a very pathetic run, in an attempt to play Juniper let her eyes travel back to her current company. She wouldn’t stay long, she did have work she had to do and this was pushing her time-frame short. She wasn’t a woman who enjoyed being fashionably late to business-related matters, but she was beginning to think it was one skype call she was just not going to make. She hated herself for admitting it internally. “My name is Juniper, Juniper Charland.” She wasn’t worried that he didn’t give her his last name. She offered her hand for a shake, suddenly approaching their time together in a very business-coordinated fashion. She didn’t need to flaunt the details of her wealth, how many millions her net-worth was worth, the people she encountered did the digging themselves. If they wanted to know so bad, she didn’t see the harm in making them dig. “If she starts yelping, I expect you’ll call him off. Not all girls like it rough.” She couldn’t help the sexual reference, it just happened. Phantom by the meter.

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN @ CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY GUNGOR

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[CONNOR SELWYN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 400px; padding: 10px; background-color: #202020; border-radius: 100%; -moz-border-radius-: 100%; -webkit-border-radius: 100%;] untameable I can’t be tamed, I can never, don’t touch touch, rush it, rush it My eyes that arouse you even from far away, guilty guilty Your thirsty face starts sweating And your flesh is on the tip of my sharp fingers the bubble explodes ALTHOUGH CONNOR WAS A GO-GETTER TYPE OF PERSON, NOT THE KIND TO SIT AROUND AND WAIT FOR SOMETHING HE WANTED TO COME TO HIM, HE COULD ALSO SENSE WHEN HE WAS GOING TO HAVE TO PUT OUT AN EFFORT. IF HE'D BEEN A RODEO COWBOY, HE WOULD SEE JUNIPER AS THE TYPE THAT WAS HARD TO ROPE, HARD TO PULL IN TO GET WHAT HE WANTED. IF HE WANTED IT BADLY ENOUGH, HE WAS GOING TO HAVE TO WORK FOR IT. AND WORKING HARD FOR A WOMAN WAS NOT USUALLY ON HIS TO-DO LIST. CONNOR SAW MOST WOMEN AS OBJECTS, NOT AS THE INTELLIGENT COMPANIONS MOST MEN SAW THEM AS, AND THAT WAS ONE OF THE PRIMARY REASONS HE'D BEEN LABELED AS AN ASSHOLE. HIS SISTER KAHLAN WAS CONSTANTLY GETTING ON TO HIM FOR DEMEANING WOMEN, BUT HE IGNORED HER MOSTLY. HE HAD HIS RIGHT TO VIEW PEOPLE HOWEVER HE WANTED, WHETHER OTHER PEOPLE AGREED WITH HIM OR NOT WAS UP TO THEM. HE DIDN'T PARTICULARLY CARE. HIS FATHER HAD BROUGHT HIM UP TO HAVE STRONG OPINIONS, AND SO HE DID. HE COULD ALSO TELL JUNIPER HAD THAT STRONG WILL A LOT OF WOMEN LACKED, THE KIND OF WILL THAT HAD OBVIOUSLY MADE HER SUCCESSFUL IN A BUSINESS INDUSTRY DOMINATED MOSTLY BY MEN. HE HAD TO ADMIRE HER FOR THAT. OF COURSE, IT WAS HIGHLY UNLIKELY HE WOULD EVER COMMEND HER OUT LOUD FOR THAT FEATURE. COMPLIMENTS WEREN'T REALLY HIS STYLE. AS SHE SET HER PUP ON THE GROUND AND COMMENTED ABOUT CASTING THE FIRST STONE, HE SNORTED AND SMILED AS HE LOOKED OUT TO THE WAVES. "LET'S JUST SAY, I DON'T LIVE IN A GLASS HOUSE," HE REPLIED WITH A RUEFUL SMILE. CONNOR CERTAINLY HAD HIS FAIR SHARE OF SINS BENEATH HIS BELT. HE'D KILLED MEN FOR A LIVING, AND SOMETIMES A HOBBY, SINCE HE WAS SIXTEEN YEARS OLD. HE'D SLEPT WITH ENOUGH WOMEN THAT HE COULDN'T BEGIN TO REMEMBER ALL OF THEIR NAMES AND FACES. HE'D LIED IN THE FACE OF PRIESTS AND HE'D STOLEN FROM BABIES AS THE SAYINGS WENT. IF THERE WAS ANYONE SECOND IN LINE TO THE DEVIL ON THE LIST OF SINNERS, THAT WAS CONNOR SELWYN. ALTHOUGH HIGHLY UNLIKELY THAT JUNIPER WOULD EVER KNOW THIS, CONNOR KNEW IT. DESPITE THE FACT HIS 'SINS' HAD LONG AGO BECOME ROTE AND HE NO LONGER KEPT COUNT OF THEM, HE STILL REMEMBERED CERTAIN EVENTS IN HIS LIFE THAT WOULD STICK WITH HIM UNTIL HIS DYING DAY. HIS FATHER'S DETERMINED FACE THAT DAY WOULD BE ONE OF THEM. DEEP INSIDE, HE COULDN'T JUSTIFY IT TO HIMSELF ALTHOUGH HE'D COME TO GRIPS WITH IT ON THE OUTSIDE, BUT HE COULDN'T TALK TO ANYONE ABOUT IT. FIRSTLY, HE WASN'T THE TYPE OF PERSON WHO 'TALKED ABOUT HIS FEELINGS' TO GET RID OF GUILTY, AND SECONDLY, HE COULDN'T RELIVE IT OUT LOUD. EVERY NIGHT HE WOULD FALL ASLEEP WITH HIS FATHER'S EYES BORING INTO HIM, DEMANDING THAT HE SHOOT HIM, AND HE WOULD BEAR THAT PAIN ALONE. ALWAYS ALONE. THAT HAD BEEN HIS CHOICE WHEN HE'D TAKEN THIS LIFE, WHEN HE'D ACCEPTED HIS FATHER'S POSITION IN THE HIERARCHY OF THE MAFIA KYSON CREATED FROM THE GROUND UP AS A YOUNG ADULT. HE WAS SHAKEN OUT OF HIS DAYDREAMING AS HE HEARD HER INTRODUCE HERSELF AND SHE EXTENDED HER HAND TOWARD HIM. RECOVERING EASILY FROM HIS MOMENT, HE SHOOK HER HAND AND NODDED AT HER INTRODUCTION. "SOMETHING TELLS ME YOU'RE NOT ORIGINALLY FROM AROUND HERE, MS CHARLAND," HE COMMENTED IN HIS IRISH ACCENT. "AND I KNOW I COULDN'T TRY TO HIDE MY HERITAGE EVEN IF I WANTED TO." HE OFFERED HER A SMILE AS HE WATCHED THE BULLDOG LOPING AFTER HIS MUCH LARGER IRISH WOLFHOUND. JUST LIKE REAVER, CONNOR HAD IT WITHIN HIM TO BE GENTLE IF HE WANTED. ALTHOUGH WHEN HE LOOKED AT JUNIPER, HE WANTED TO STRIP ALL OF HER CLOTHES OFF, THROW HER DOWN IN THE SAND, AND FUCK HER UNTIL SHE SCREAMED HIS NAME, HE COULD CONTROL HIMSELF. HE'D JUST BEEN ALLOWING HIMSELF TO LOSE CONTROL FOR SO LONG, IT HAD ALMOST BECOME HABIT. NOW THAT HE WAS THE LEADER OF HIS FATHER'S ORGANIZATION, HOWEVER, HE COULDN'T BE SO RECKLESS ANY LONGER. OR SO HIS SISTER AND BROTHER KEPT REMINDING HIM. HE HATED ADMITTING THEY WERE RIGHT, BUT IF HE DIDN'T WANT HIS WORLD TO FALL DOWN AROUND HIS EARS, HE WAS GOING TO HAVE TO MAKE SOME CHANGES. PERHAPS JUNIPER COULD BE HIS FIRST EXPERIMENT IN CHANGE.

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[hblood]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #a0a0a0 solid 30px; ] Bad bitches, I'm your leader. WORDS 900 - - - - - - - TAGGED CONNOR Her eyes studied and watched the dogs play with each other in the sand. This time Connor’s dog was a bit gentler and Lemon seemed to enjoy the male’s company this time. She didn’t hear any yelps, so Juniper sat down into the sand to actually relax. She didn’t know if he had been scoping her out, she hadn’t paid attention as she was genuinely more concerned about her puppy’s well-being and she was preoccupied by thoughts. Now that she was sitting, she took a moment to appreciate the man in her company. Juniper had met many people with accents throughout her life, but she knew an Irish accent was one of the more adored and adorable accents there was to find in a person. She wouldn’t deny that Connor’s voice made her surprisingly giddy inside, but she figured it really was in the way he pronounced things. It was as if she was watching the travel channel and he was one of the people speaking on the television. Rich in culture and proud to show it, juniper did find it admirable that he kept his accent, whereas some people tried so hard to sound American and try to blend in. She reached down and untied her high-heeled boot and then took of her thin nylon socks to dig her toes into the sand. Sand was such a marvel, so cold and relaxing, she loved the way it felt in her toes for now, but she hated when sand wormed it’s way in when she didn’t want it in there. Silence fell, but she listened to the sounds of waves crashing and their dogs playing, she could hear the people further down the beach from where they were and the sounds of police sirens in the distance. More people speeding, perhaps, and maybe it was Caleb with those sirens blasting. A small, personal smile filled her lips, as she remembered their sex. The way his hands felt against her skin and how the silence then, all she could hear was their heavy breaths and noises of pleasure, she squirmed in her seat, a little blush filling her cheeks. She wanted sex again, she had never been this way, and she never acted like a desperate cat in heat before. But now she couldn’t stop herself from sizing up her newest discovery in sapphire bay as a sexual object and less of a man. Clearing her throat to answer him and to push away all dirty thoughts she tucked a leg underneath the other. “No, you’re right, not from around here. Although a part of me wishes I’ve lived here all my life, I’d sport sun-kissed skin better than half of the broads I’ve seen down the boardwalk and on the beaches.” She stretched, her torso reaching upwards and she pushed her sunglasses up to the crown of her head, a smirk displaying on her plump, lip-glossed lips. “Well, I was born and raised in the big apple itself, Upper East Side, Manhattan. My father was born wealthy and along with owning some nightclub, he’s a successful computer software programmer and my mother is a pharmaceutical specialist with a doctorate degree.” She looked at him and smiled. “I own a business consulting company, globally renowned for specializing in political economy. I also own and run a wedding planning company, along with owning and running the vineyard on the country side.” She watched the dogs run into the water, her puppy only going out a quarter of the distance that Connor’s dog went out. “I believe that if I was born here in California and raised by some of the socialites here, I don’t think I would be half as accomplished. Too many women I meet here are Daddy’s girls, models, dancers, and aspiring actresses. It’s not a realistic life to live and I’m a realistic woman. I work for a living and I have to pencil in all my needs second. But I do fill them when I can. Like sex, you would think it would be easy to find men who want no strings attached, flings, no kisses or affection, and actually know how to use their dick, but no. it’s not that easy and I don’t want diseases from gigolos and I have a reputation to keep. I can’t let these head honcho men thinking I’m an easy or a desperate whore. I’m classy, you know? I like my personal life to be secret and my business, well, I like to be known for what I do.” She turned to Connor, offering him a genuine smile that just read “do you know what I mean, jellybean?” and a hint of well, playful banter. She was playful with her friends and rough with the ones that had the side benefits. “You must know what I mean, about keeping a name and having a high status on it? I think it’s in my blood, to want to be impressive to people I meet.” She sighed and tilted her head up toward the sun. “I don’t know what you do for a living, nor do I want to know - I don’t expect anyone to be as open as I am. But I’m just craving attention and needs to be filled, to be perfectly, perfectly honest.” If there was any subtle hint for invitation for sex on the beach, she just said it. Phantom by the meter.

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN @ CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY GUNGOR

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[CONNOR SELWYN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 400px; padding: 10px; background-color: #202020; border-radius: 100%; -moz-border-radius-: 100%; -webkit-border-radius: 100%;] untameable I can’t be tamed, I can never, don’t touch touch, rush it, rush it My eyes that arouse you even from far away, guilty guilty Your thirsty face starts sweating And your flesh is on the tip of my sharp fingers the bubble explodes INNATELY WHEN CONNOR HEARD POLICE SIRENS, HE TENSED BUT IT WASN'T NOTICEABLE. HIS MIND WAS ALWAYS ON AFFAIRS OF HIS BUSINESS, AND THAT MEANT HE WAS UNEASY WHEN HE HEARD LAW ENFORCEMENT. WHILE HE WAS THE TYPE OF GUY TO WALK RIGHT INTO THE POLICE STATION TO BAIL OUT HIS YOUNGEST BROTHER WHO, LIKE AN IDIOT, HAD GOTTEN HIMSELF TAKEN IN FOR FIGHTING IN ONE OF THE SLUMMIER PARTS OF TOWN, HE STILL DIDN'T LIKE BEING IN THE SPOTLIGHT AT ALL. HIS FATHER HAD TAUGHT HIM THE STRENGTH OF A BUSINESS THAT REMAINED IN THE SHADOWS, AND HE HAD CARRIED ON THAT TRADITION. HE DESPISED ANYONE WHO MADE ANY NOISE THAT BROUGHT ATTENTION TO THEMSELVES, HENCE THE REASON HE'D SLAPPED HIS YOUNGEST SIBLING AROUND WHEN HE'D BEEN TAKEN TO THE JAIL. NOW, ASHER'S NAME WAS ON THEIR RECORDS, AND THE LAST NAME SELWYN WAS STAMPED RIGHT THERE ALONG WITH IT. IT WAS BAD BUSINESS TO BE NOTICED. THEN THERE WAS THE MATTER OF THE HOT-HEADED ITALIAN BOY, THE CONSTANTINO. HE'D GONE RUNNING HIS MOUTH AT THE STATION ABOUT HIS COUSIN'S RAPING, AND OBVIOUSLY, CONNOR KNEW WHO THE PERPETRATOR WAS. IT HAD BEEN HIM, AND IT HAD BEEN AT LEAST FIVE YEARS AGO. HE'D PAID HIS DUES WITHIN THE FAMILY FOR THAT MISTAKE, BEEN SHIPPED BACK TO EUROPE TO PAY HIS PENANCE, AND HE'D MOVED ON. NOW THE BLOND-HAIRED LITTLE PRICK WAS BRINGING IT UP ALL OVER AGAIN, PEAKING THE COPS' ATTENTION TO START SEARCHING FOR HIM. SINCE THEN, CONNOR HAD BEEN KEEPING TO THE MANSION AND TO SECLUDED AREAS LIKE THE BEACH WHERE THE COPS WOULD HAVE NO REASON TO FOLLOW HIM AND TO ASK HIM QUESTIONS. IT WASN'T THAT HE COULDN'T LIE, HE WAS ONE OF THE BEST, HE JUST DIDN'T WANT TO DEAL WITH IT. QUESTIONING WOULD ONLY MAKE HIM ANGRY, AND THEN HE WOULD HAVE TO START KILLING PEOPLE. AND THAT WAS ALL JUST SO... TIRING. AS JUNIPER BEGAN DETAILING HER LIFE STORY FOR HIM, HE WATCHED HER BODY MOVING AS SHE SPOKE. ADMITTEDLY, HE ONLY HEARD ABOUT HALF OF WHAT SHE SAID AS HE ADMIRED HER SHAPE. HER CONFIDENCE OOZED OFF OF HER, AND SHE WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE SUN-KISSED SKIN: SHE ALREADY LOOKED BETTER THAN MOST OF THE WOMEN HE'D SEEN WALKING AROUND THIS TOWN. ALTHOUGH HE HADN'T BEEN LISTENING TO EVERY WORD SHE SAID, HER WORDS ABOUT SEX PERKED HIS ATTENTION. A SMILE CURVED ONTO HIS FACE AS SHE WENT ON ABOUT IT: SHE SOUNDED LIKE HIM. THE NIGHT HE'D HAD TO GO GET ASHER HAD BEEN A NIGHT LIKE SHE IMAGINED: HE'D BEDDED THE GIRL AND PATTED HER ON THE HEAD AND SENT HER ON HER WAY. WHY COULDN'T PEOPLE UNDERSTAND THAT? IT DIDN'T MEAN HE WAS IN LOVE WITH A WOMAN JUST BECAUSE HE WANTED TO FUCK HER. THEY WERE TWO DIFFERENT THINGS. WOMEN TOOK THINGS FAR TOO PERSONALLY. "I'M SURE YOU'RE WELL KNOWN FOR WHAT YOU DO TO THE MEN WHO HAVE THE HONOR OF YOUR PRESENCE, BOTH WITHIN THE BEDROOM AND WITHOUT," HE COMMENTED, CUTTING HIS GREEN EYES OVER AT HER WITH A FLIRTY SMILE. SHE RESPONDED WITH HER DESIRE TO BE IMPRESSIVE TO THE PEOPLE SHE MET, AND CONNOR CHUCKLED AND NODDED. HE COULD UNDERSTAND THE SENTIMENT. USUALLY HE EXPRESSED THAT SAME DESIRE BY SCARING PEOPLE ENOUGH THEY REMEMBERED HIM. WITH JUNIPER, THAT WOULD BE DIFFERENT. HE HAD NO NEED TO HURT HER, AND HE FOUND HIMSELF MORE AND MORE ATTRACTED TO HER BECAUSE SHE ADMITTED HER NO-STRINGS-ATTACHED WAY OF VIEWING SEX. SHE SIGHED AND TILTED HER HEAD BACK, HER SLENDER NECK EXPOSED TO THE SUN, AND CONNOR'S EYES NARROWED. HER WORDS WERE AN OPEN INVITATION, AND SHE'D OPENED HERSELF UP TO HIM SINCE THEY'D FIRST COME UPON ONE ANOTHER. THEY WERE SITTING RELATIVELY CLOSE NOW, AND HE SLOWLY LEANED OVER HER NECK, PLACING A HOT KISS ON THE CURVATURE OF IT AS SHE LEANED BACK. "ATTENTION IS FREE FROM ME," HE COMMENTED IN A LUSTY VOICE, SMILING SLIGHTLY AS ONE FINGER TRAILED DOWN HER NECK, OVER HER CHEST AND TUGGED PLAYFULLY AT THE NECKLINE OF HER SHIRT. "AND FORTUNATELY, I'D RATHER THERE WERE NO FEELINGS INVOLVED. MAKES IT EASIER FOR BOTH OF US." HE WINKED AT HER AND LEANED OVER TO KISS HER JAWBONE AS HIS OTHER HAND PLAYED ALONG HER ARCHED BACK. HE DIDN'T WORRY FOR THEIR PETS, KNOWING REAVER WAS WELL-TRAINED ENOUGH TO KEEP HER PUPPY SAFE AND TO KEEP HIMSELF OUT OF DANGER IF THE NEED AROSE. HE HAD NO PERSONAL WORRY FOR HER PET, BUT HE KNEW FROM HOW SHE'D REACTED PREVIOUSLY THAT WORRY FOR THE PUPPY WOULD BOTHER HER. AND HE DIDN'T WANT HER THINKING ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE FOR AT LEAST THE NEXT THIRTY MINUTES.

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[hblood]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #a0a0a0 solid 30px; ] Bad bitches, I'm your leader. WORDS 600 - - - - - - - TAGGED CONNOR Once he uttered the words that she wanted to hear, the more satisfied of smiles appeared on Juniper’s lips. She wanted to hear exactly what he said and what he didn’t say but acted upon. His attention was free? Glorious, because she didn’t feel like spending money on yet another man who probably never calls her again for booty calls. Caleb had no choice but to reveal his profession to her as he was the one who saved her from the monstrous bear that was eating all of her grapes in her vineyard. With Connor, she didn’t know what he did for a living, but she didn’t care. The chances of seeing him were low so she cared less. He was already making his moves and he already did the one thing she hated most of all: he was deadly close to her lips. Her lips were reserved for actual lovers that loved her and not men who wanted their dick wet for a half hour to an hour tops. She would have to stop Connor dead in his tracks and take him down the rails of how Juniper Charland operated the sex train. She was in command, he followed. She wasted no time grabbing his hands and in a motion she put the Irishman on his back in the sand and straddled his waist. A dangerous smile played on her lips as she stripped off her blazer, and tank top to leave her frilly leopard print bra in the open. Goosebumps rose and danced along her sun-kissed skin. There wasn’t really anyway to be sexy, but soon it was just their instincts and experience taking over. No need for seduction when you were already at the point of no return. Perhaps if she didn’t feel so lonely, isolated by grapes and fields away from the rest of civilization – she should have thought more on that when she bought the place. She was pulling his clothes off; her skilled hands were no match for a belt, a button, or a zipper. They wanted what was underneath; her whole body ached for it – the desire to touch and be touched. Skin to skin sensation, something she would never get tired of as long it was exciting and not dull. Sex for the sake of having sex was okay if the sex was good and didn’t rock her to sleep. She had that happen to her back in Manhattan and she vowed never again. She preferred this kind of sex – when they were finished with each other, it was good. No need talking about it or exchanging numbers. No strings were attached, just like she said. She wasn’t a fan of the sand in every crevice, sticking to her sweat where he had pinned against the sand and had his way. Not that she wasn’t having her way, she did have her own elation like he had his. A part of her wanted to awkwardly suggest doing it again, but she wouldn’t do it. If she was going to be a whore about her sex life, than at least she needed to be classy. She snapped her bra together, slid back on her panties and her jeans along with her shirt, blazer, and boots. Her puppy and his came waddling over to their respective owner. She put her leash back on the puppy’s harness before standing and dusting off whatever sand she could manage to fling off. Lemon waddled out ahead of her and turned to look at her as if the puppy was confused why they weren’t leaving. “Well, Connor – goodbye.” Phantom by the meter.

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN @ CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY GUNGOR

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