Who: Amery Wilkes, Lydia Proudfoot
What: Sex against a door. Oh, and dinner, but not really.
Where: Amery's flat
When: Monday nightish

It was dark. It was dark, surprisingly wet for a summer's night, with an uncomfortable sort of heat. Amery sipped his glass of water thoughtfully, staring out the window by means as using it as a mirror.

She was here. Lydia Proudfoot, the suddenly-everywhere-it girl that seemed to have made a sweeping waltz into his life, was here.

She was here and so was he, and for once he thought it might have been the coincidence of all coincidences. The remaining food on his plate was cold and long-since forgotten, but he couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off her smirking face, clearly reflected in the window.

Interesting.

He took another sip of his water.

She knew that he was watching her from his spot near the window -- it was the reason that she'd chosen the corner booth in the first place. Of course, it had been weeks since this had started - conveniently timed run-ins from both his end and hers. Honestly, it was more amusing than anything else -- the thought that the man was following her in the same way that she was following him was intriguing, at least.

It was certainly more eventful than whatever it was she had with Fenrir. Lydia lifted her glass and tipped her head to the side just so, making it appear as if she was listening to the (dreadfully boring) man speaking to her and not casually observing Amery from the corner of her eye.

This was progressing intolerably slow, she decided suddenly. Pushing up from her seat, she gave her company of the evening a subtle wave off. "Ta, darling." Then she headed smoothly for the door, fully expecting the man to pick up her tab.

Well, this seemed like perfect chance. Only it wasn't perfect chance, he had to realize, because if there was one thing this woman appeared to be good at (and oh, he could imagine quite a bit more she was good at), it was engineering the "ideal moment." And he liked that. Amery liked that a lot, actually. There was much about this woman that absolutely fascinated him, and in a way he thought that fascination might be returned.

Dropping his paid bill on the table, he followed her to the door, striding along side her. "Well, Miss Proudfoot, I do hope you'd do me the honor of allowing me to escort you out," he declared with a grand offering of his elbow.

Well, Amery hadn't dropped the bitter sarcasm yet, that was slightly more than ingrained into his personality.

Bitter sarcasm wasn't something that went unnoticed with Lydia, so Amery was in luck. At least it showed that he had more going on in his mind than just a shallow desire for sex (not that she had much more than that going on in her own on a regular basis). When he stepped up next to her and offered his arm, she took it delicately and glanced sideways to him with a slight smile.

"I suppose since it is so late in the evening and my date for the night has proved terribly irritating that I could take you up on your very generous offer," she replied smoothly.

As they made their way out of the restaurant, there were a few quick decisions that he had to make. Once his mind was made up, he took her quickly to the more deserted side alley of the restaurant and pressed her up against the brick wall.

"That's a shame about your date," he said, in a way that indicated he did not care or was actually pleased it was terrible. "But what say we end this little game we've been playing tonight, hmm?" He ran one hand up and down the wall next to where he had her loosely pinned.

She was pinned lightly enough that she knew he wasn't completely restraining her yet, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to. The thought ran a thrill down her spine (sue her, she loved the bad boys) that she hadn't felt in quite some time. Lydia arched her brow at him and shifted subtly, biting on her lip. "I'm sure that I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Wilkes."

Right.

"Oh, don't toy with me, Miss Proudfoot," he said, whispering in her ear. "I think you and I both know exactly what I'm talking about, and exactly how it should end." His arm held her harder against the wall and he smiled with a graceful arch of the brow. "Or would you like me to explain it to you a little more clearly?"

"You know us models, Mr. Wilkes," she mused, rolling herself against his grip in order to test its strength, "we're terribly dense. You might have to give me step-by-step instructions..." Lydia smirked and waited, drumming her nails back against the wall. "In order to be perfectly clear. I'd hate to misunderstand, after all."

He pulled his head back and surveyed her with a calculating stare. "Yes, I can see we might have some miscommunications." He tilted his head to the side. "But there's no reason why we can't teach you to be a little more receptive, so why give it all away? But I will say the first step would be to remove ourselves from this dismal, if cozy, little alley way."

Amery felt Lydia test his hold and increased it minimally. "And then I thought we might start a little like this." The hand by her side grabbed her hip and he kissed her roughly, easing a leg between hers and pushing.

Well, at least he wasted no time. That was something she respected, having the schedule that she did -- her hips rolled up easily against his leg once before she brought her own leg up to curl around his waist, to draw him close against her while still allowing him to be in control.

"Miscommunications," she breathed once the kiss was broken, "are usually the fault of both parties." This evening was already shaping up better than she'd been hoping it to.

"Oh, no, my dear Miss Proudfoot, that is patently untrue when they concern me," he smirked and tilted his head once more. "I positively strive to make myself understood." Pulling her face to his once more, he kissed her a little more roughly this time before leaning back. "I think this might pose the question... your place, or mine?"

She moaned into the kiss, pressing into it with a greedy whimper. "Your place," she replied quietly, letting her head fall back against the cool brick wall, "if only because mine is otherwise occupied." Not that she didn't want to share her roommate with Amery, but the woman was a little ... eccentric. No need to spoil a first encounter with that.

His head fell back on her shoulder as he Apparated them to his flat which was in near darkness, save for the street lamp's orange light. Lights were hardly necessary at a time like this, though. Not bothering with anything else, he pushed her against the door and had at her neck, ripping at it with just a touch more tooth than "gentle necking" probably called for.

The fact was that Lydia knew very good cover-up spells, but that didn't mean she liked to use them. She scrabbled one hand up his back when he went at her neck, though, determined to at least leave a few marks of her own. Apparating barely phased her anymore, but she was aware that they'd at least changed locations. That was just fine with her -- grungy alleyways weren't really her 'thing'.

Location, location... not that Amery was really adverse to pinning a woman up against a public alley way and having at it right there, but that was making sort of a public statement. A lot of public statements, actually, which didn't need to be made. And his own flat was a lot cleaner, unsurprisingly. He did tend to be a little anal about the orderliness of his apartment. But at the moment, the only location issues he was having was if shagging right on the door was better than the bed.

"You know," he whispered, punctuating the statement with a bite. "The bedroom is right through that way, but I've never had much issue putting a wall to good use."

"And I've never been terribly picky," she managed with a gasp, rolling her head to the side so that she could expose more of her throat to his teeth. How many times had she failed to make it to the bed with John? Just the memory of it was enough to rile her up again -- both her discontent at the way things had ended with John and the way that she may or may not have still felt about it.

Lydia curled her hand through his hair, enjoying the feel of the locks underneath her fingertips.

His mouth moved from her jawline to her neck, around the soft skin of the collarbone and down a little further, while one hand pressed tightly against her hip and the other pushed her skirt further up, thumb trailing on the smooth flesh below. "I suppose we'll just have to see how far we make it, then," he spoke, words blowing hot hair across the skin of her neck.

She smirked, resting her hand against the back of his neck and giving him a devious smirk. As much as he could tease her, she could dole just as much back. She rocked her hips up again and slid one of her own knees between his legs, grinding it upward.

Moaning softly, his hand clamped down on her hip and the hand inching its way up dug slightly into the flesh of her thigh. "Hmm, you are saucy, aren't you? Unsurprising, but I am astonished at the amount of clothing you still possess, Miss Proudfoot." Obviously, the game hadn't stopped; they were just entering round two. Amery's hand tugged at the bottom of the skirt to prove his point. Somehow, he didn't think Lydia would be the most receptive to clothes being ripped, although he didn't really blame her.

Definitely not receptive to clothes being ripped, although she had no quams about ripping off John's. Lydia moaned when he dug his fingers into her thigh and shivered, squirming just a little in order to make it easier for him to slide her garments off. "I could say the same of you, Mr. Wilkes." The fact was that they weren't speaking on a first-name basis is rather amusing to her.

Slipping the excess items off, he ran two fingers down her chest from the gap between the collar bones, down between the breasts, slowing just inches above the navel, where the really sensitive flesh was. Amery ran the finger down, down, veering to the side where it reached hip meeting thigh and resumed the initial upward strokes to the inner thigh, getting a little bit closer each time. "I think it saves a lot of time for just one party to shed the clothes, don't you?"

"Some people might think that makes you lazy," she murmured cheekily as she shivered beneath his touch, bringing her own hands down to grasp at his belt. "Myself included." In all honesty, she merely liked working people up like this.

"Lazy," he conceded, "but so much more satisfied in the end." Grinding his teeth slightly at the pressure on his trousers, he took the biting of the neck down further to a breast as a means of distracting and teasing her.

Ah, but she had impeccable self-control. She let out a quiet moan and tugged forward with her hands still on his belt, grinding her leg upward and jerking him in as she went. Two could play the teasing game.

Letting out a slight growl, he thrust slightly against her, moving his hand against her, kissing her roughly. Teasing hardly seemed to proper word for it now. He caught her bottom lip with his teeth and tugged slightly, taking his ministrations back to her neck, his other hand roaming all over her.

She was definitely more concerned with getting his pants off at this point. It had quickly surpassed teasing and evolved into something that was far more urgent. She gave his belt another firm tug, hoping to at least get his pants down. With that much they could ... proceed.

His hands moved down to help her ease the belt and trousers off, feeling the pace and the intensity quicken. Teasing was all very well, but there was a heated edge to their movements now. Amery pressed her back against the wall and nudged her legs further open.

Lydia spread her legs willingly and let out a soft moan, making sure that he was bare from the waist down before she moved on further. She threaded her hands through his hair and gave a low moan, urging him forward as quickly as she felt was lady-like.

He pushed forward, entering as smoothly as their current position allowed him to and rather than feeling the burn dissipate, it only increased, serving to grip her leg and hitch it around his waist to get the proper leverage he needed.

Something she was accustomed to was being bent into somewhat awkward positions. She hooked one arm around his neck and pulled herself up against him, pressing firm breasts against his chest with a soft gasp.

Keeping his hands on her waist, he thrust harder with each stroke, bringing his head down to touch lips once more and pressing himself as far into her as he could possibly manage. He brought a hand from her waist to the wall in order to brace himself against it and steady them. His heartbeat started to accelerate.

At least she wasn't the only one enjoying herself. She groaned against his mouth and kissed him firmly, making sure that she took the time to memorize the way that he tasted. This was certainly more intense than she'd been expecting things to be. It was surprising in the best way possible.

Kissing her, the hand on the wall trailed almost automatically to her hair and then her cheek, fingers falling to her neck, in order to try and bring her even closer than they had already pressed themselves. He began to speed up, changing his rhythm because he felt some sort of release approaching.

She couldn't fault him for being so ... well, quick. In truth, she felt that she was going to be finishing up relatively soon and she was at least glad that he was going to be meeting up with her, as it were. Lydia gasped, digging long nails into his shoulders.

Surprised at the intensity, and quickness (perhaps it was a month of foreplay?), he nevertheless gripped harder as he became more exact, precise in his strokes, making sure he at least brought her with him. The strokes slowed as he painstakingly slid in and out, going almost as far out as he could bear to bring himself and pushing back with all the slowed force he could muster.

It wasn't surprising, then, that it only took a few moments longer for her to tremble with orgasm. She clenched down against him with limbs and inner muscles and gave a heavy moan, letting her head drop back against the wall. The month of foreplay was definitely worth this.

All it took was one clench from her for Amery to nearly lose it, his hands positively forming a death grip on her. His breathing was ragged as he slowly drew out, blissfully spent. His head rolled forward and he rested his forehead against the wall over her shoulder, his breathing slowly starting to return to normal.

Usually this was the point where she kicked the guy out on his arse, but she didn't know if Amery would even consider taking her seriously if she told him something like that. She slowly uncoiled her leg from his waist and let herself rest back against the wall as well, a satisfied smirk on her lips.

Stretching himself out slightly, he rolled his neck from side to side with his eyes closed. Taking a deep breath, he opened one eye slightly and tilted his head again. "Well, this is the entry way," he said, gesturing to walls around them. "But if memory serves, you still haven't seen the bedroom?"

"Hm, I do believe your memory is correct." Because really, if he was offering her a place to stay for the evening she wasn't going to say no. Lydia brought a hand up to the back of his neck to rub lightly.

"It would simply be improper for me to let you leave without seeing it, Miss Proudfoot," Amery said, pulling her closer. "And I have been told that my ceiling is quite a wonderful sight to behold." Well, he was bitterly sarcastic and rather cheeky. But never let it be said his bedside manner was lacking, for indeed it was not.

Right. Lydia suppressed the urge to snort and instead brought one hand to give his hip a little pinch. "Right, right. I would hate for anyone to think that you were a bad host on my account, Mr. Wilkes." She let him pull her closer and lazily draped her arms over his shoulders.

"Not ever," he agreed, towing her towards his bedroom door.