champagne, cocaine, gasoline; and most things in between
"I was hoping you would say something like that, mi amo," Mateo grins, the expression promptly shifting to something hungry and needy at the shift of Hawthorn's hips, and he melts back into the chaise lounge for a few moments to try and kiss the lingering cherry taste from the other man's lips. "Mm, I know a place we can go."
It's not a typical room, per say, because it's in the back where he usually helps the guys and girls get ready, but no one in their right mind is going to complain about a little extra curricular activity in there, so long as Thorn doesn't mind a potential audience. They'll see, he supposes, Mateo reluctantly guiding the other man back and away from him so he can clamber to his feet, lacing his fingers with the courtesan's.
"Let's go," he says with a smirk over his shoulder, leading him through a side door towards where all the real fun happens - likely not dissimilar to the places Thorn is used to frequenting in the House of Midnight.
It's not a typical room, per say, because it's in the back where he usually helps the guys and girls get ready, but no one in their right mind is going to complain about a little extra curricular activity in there, so long as Thorn doesn't mind a potential audience. They'll see, he supposes, Mateo reluctantly guiding the other man back and away from him so he can clamber to his feet, lacing his fingers with the courtesan's.
"Let's go," he says with a smirk over his shoulder, leading him through a side door towards where all the real fun happens - likely not dissimilar to the places Thorn is used to frequenting in the House of Midnight.
