It almost sounded like he wanted her to have sex with the detective. Certainly, men had held fantasies about her in the past, but they mostly involved Kit doing unspeakable, lust-fuelled activities with themselves, rather than another man. Well, apart from that one fellow MP who had a kink for the cuckold thing. He’d had the smallest penis she’d ever laid eyes on, so his predilection was understandable.
But Lecter….she imagined he wasn’t the kind of man who got off to thoughts of other people engaging in ‘the beast with two backs’. He seemed much too refined and what’s more, self-serving, for that sort of caper. Admittedly, it would be the shorter route, the more easily explainable tactic. Yet, for a woman who had fucked so many repellent men, she really, absolutely and positively did not want to fuck the detective.
He was abhorrent, not even his thirst of extortion would redeem him, in her eyes and usually, she could respect the vices and crimes of others to the point of attraction. Not now though. Not with him.
Plus, he wasn’t worthy of her. It was perhaps (definitely) egotistic, yet she was a prize - perfect alabaster flesh that was stretched to ideal tautness where it counted and rounded curves exactly where men noticed them. A face of undeniable symmetry with wide, inviting eyes, straight nose and strong chin, lips that not only demanded attention but gave freely of their own. Not to mention the vast array of skills that could only have been accumulated with ultimate dedication to them need of them.
Women like her should only be gifted the most deserving of men - she firmly believed that.
“I know I said before that I’d do whatever you deemed best……..but I can’t fuck him. At least not without a handful of Diazepam and a litre bottle of vodka inside me and even then, the amount of therapy required afterwards would bankrupt me”. A small joke, though serious in intent.
“Is there a way we can achieve our goal without me opening my thighs for him?”.
Expressions spoke volumes. Tone, body language, posture, they are all that made us human and contradicted the words that came out of our mouths. A woman could say, ‘Yes,’ with her arms crossed, brows furrowed and a light tap of her foot. If you read it right, you’d come to understand that she did not give you her approval by any means whatsoever. Quite the opposite, actually.
The slightly open mouth, side-eyed glance, light flare of nostrils that bore the elements of disgust allowed him to learn that she felt such complete revulsion to the idea that with a simple image of the night’s occurrence brought her to her knees while retching. Pacing behind her, his fingertips are brushing the expanse of exposed skin on her shoulder. It made him laugh, the joke well-received. “I never mentioned you had to do anything. I said I’d falsify a doctor’s note. Go there with the intention of compromise.”
A small hum is leaving him, sipping on the blood-colored beverage, his fingertips lingering as his tips wove the chain of her necklace around his long digits. From there, he inspected the stones, “Swarovski, excellent taste.” It waterfalled down his palm and situated itself back in its previous place. From there, he paced towards his books, tracing their spines as if hoping they’d shudder.
“Have me on speed dial in case things go awfully wrong and he actually tries committing a crime. It’ll be to your benefit but I don’t want you getting injured. Make sure you have proof that you’re going there with the intention to talk, send him a text message. This is for the reason that they might say you knew what you were heading in for but we can always say you have the freedom to change your mind, it’s simply more credible when you have undeniable proof of your intentions.” Nodding to himself, he’s narrowing his eyes.
“We’ll make it look like a robbery. I’ll be your alibi... I’ll tell them you were with me all night. We can say we’re having an affair. There have been a few murders recently of men who rape. We’ll make sure it falls on whoever this individual is.”
