Saturday, November 12 and Monday, November 14

[x-siryn.livejournal.com]

After taking Bobby out clubbing the night before, Manuel moves on to the other half of the couple and seduces Terry.
Warnings: Long. Also, sex.



Manuel held the tray like a pro server as he went off in search of Teresa. He was still grinning from his _encounter_ last night with Robert - that poor boy still didn't quite know what hit him. But now it was time to put the final touches on things. Whistling a cheerful tune, he checked empathically to make sure she was in her suite, then knocked on the outermost door. "de Guzeman Catering!" he said through the door with a smile. "Fresh and piping hot!"

Five Hail Mary's, three Our Fathers and a directive to apologise again in greatest honesty to Bobby--it was lighter than she'd expected from confession. Terry paused in the act of stripping off her winter coat and went to answer the door. Her emotions, placid before from the after effects of reconciliation with the Church, surged again upon seeing Manuel; confusion about what had happened layered with a desire to have nothing to do with him because of what happened. "Manuel...hi. What do you want?"

"I brought you dinner." he said, flourishing the tray at her. "Thought you might want to break bread, maybe talk a little." he said. "May I come in?"

"I, uh," she stepped back almost automatically to let him in even while she tried to figure out a way to say 'no because I already spent too much time with you.' It wasn't exactly the easiest thing to say tactfully. "Why?"

"I enjoy spending time with you? You have a bright and sunny personality, and I find it soothing." he said with complete honesty. He wasn't wearing his shades today, and he put the tray down on her coffee table. "Voila!" he said, revealing a loaf of bread from the bread machine plus sandwich fixings. "Not elegant, but I thought you might like the personal touch."

It was a nice gesture. Surprisingly nice, in fact, which saddened her a bit. She really shouldn't be surprised when someone she considered a friend did something nice. Nor should she suspect him of ulterior motives. Contrition was instant. "I'm sorry. I've just had a rough week. This looks good, thank you." She grabbed a pair of pants off the couch and hurled them towards one of the other rooms. Probably Jubilee's. "Um, do you want to sit down?"

Manuel smiled and carefully took a seat. "Thank you." he said, and then handed Terry a small plate. "Please, I insist." he said, gesturing to the food. "I couldn't get a clear feel for what you liked, so I guessed a little." he admitted. "You should think about food when I'm trying to make you a surprise dinner." he said with a laugh. "Makes the whole process _much_ easier."

She laughed and her accent faded slightly, the lilt coming through more strongly. "Sure and how am I supposed to do that? If I'd know to think about food, it wouldn't have been much of a surprise now, would it?" She leaned forward and took a slice of the bread, fresh baked, she could tell.

Manuel thought her accent was the sexiest thing this side of an aroused woman begging to be taken. He'd have to see if he could get her to do that. Smiling, he started to construct his own sandwich. "Hey, most of us mere mortals get hungry and think of food from time to time." he said with a grin.

"Aye, but hardly on cue." She smiled and continued to build her sandwich. Somewhere among the cheese and sprouts, the tomatoes and lettuce there was probably a slice or two of sandwich meat. Probably. "So why the sudden feast? Did I forget a holiday?"

"What, I have to have a reason to do something spontaneously nice? I know I am not kindly regarded, but is it really all that bad?" he said bemusedly. He kept the observation that hunger pangs were, actually, under his control to himself. It was a vague ability, ill-defined and hard to control. He didn't talk about it. "Well, there _is_ something I heard and felt the other night that might be of interest, but please. Eat first." he said.

She raised her eyebrow at him, curiosity piqued and applied herself to her sandwich. After a bite or two, she set it down on the plate and nodded toward the small fridge the girls kept in the suite. "Did you want something to drink? We've pop or water. Some juice likely."

"Water's fine. I am not a big pop drinker." he said by way of explanation. "It's usually tea or water for me." he said with a shrug. He took a bite of his own sandwich - roast beef with brown mustard. Spicy and delicious. "You look nice today." he said, noting the thick, shape-destroying sweater and the long skirt. "Not sure about that really awful blue in the skirt, though." he mused, and then kicked himself mentally. "Sorry. I don't see colors like most other folks. Ask Alison about it sometime."

"I know all about it. Alison and I see each other often. Tetrochromats, aye? I thought only women could be those." She wandered over to the fridge and returned with two water bottles, one of which she handed to him before seating herself again. "But aye, she complains about my skirt as well. I tell her that it looks fine to me." Terry grinned and sipped her drink.

Manuel took a deep drink from his water bottle before continuing. "Normally, yes. But it's an aspect of my mutation. I see emotions as colors." he said simply. "So my color discrimination is superior to everyone not Alison." he said. "I usually try to keep my comments to myself - people just get angry when I point out how their "white" clothes are actually blue, or how their shades just do not match." he said with a shrug. "The sunglasses help too."

"So what colour am I?" she asked curiously, taking another bite of her sandwich and crossing her legs beneath the long jean skirt.

Manuel paused to take a good hard look at the girl. "Physically? The sweater's the blue dye that people use to make whites whiter, then skirt is a washed-out sort of indigo." he said. "Boots are brownish. Emotionally, you've got the usual sunny colors - reds and golds, but there's a good bit of dark grey. Something's weighing on you." he said. "And since I can see the thread poking out right at me, I'm involved in it somehow. At a guess, I'd say Seattle." he said with a shrug. "I could tell you more, but it would be invading your privacy."

Terry plucked at her sweater. "I always thought it was sort of creamish." She shrugged and sighed, "Aye. I've had a rough week because of Seattle. Bobby doesn't want to see or talk to me and he broke up with me when I tried to explain. I wish I'd not been such an idiot. I'm just hoping he'll come around." That had been the encouraging advice of the priest. To be honest and he would eventually see reason.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." he said, putting his plate aside to take up her free hand in both of his. As he did, his impressions of her got sharper, clearer. The colors got even more vibrant, and the subtle shades stood out more. He could feel everything about her - the sweater itched her left shoulderblade, and she was a little warm right now. "Then my news might not bother you too much. It's about Robert." he said sadly.

Her brows drew together, perturbed by his tone. "What about Bobby? Have you talked to him? I know you said that you'd take care of things but I didn't expect that you would. It was mine to deal with, after all." She looked down at his hands on hers, trying to figure out what was going on.

Manuel nodded sadly. "I was up late last night - was too wired to sleep. Turns out young master Drake has already moved beyond you. He was out all night last night, and as I passed his suite last night I felt something ... unmistakable. I am so sorry, Teresa. I wish I didn't have to be the one to tell you this."

The blood drained out of her face and she jerked her hand away. "What are yeh saying? How do yeh think that this wouldn't bother me? I don't want to hear that my...my ex-boyfriend has found someone else when I'm hoping he'll forgive me yet!"

Manuel hung his head. "I am so sorry." he said. "He was out all night last night. I suspect he got no sleep at _all_ last night." he said sadly. "I saw him this morning - the big smile, the new clubbing clothes, the emotions, the rumpled look - it could only mean one thing." he said sadly. "He has turned your dreams to dust."

Terry choked on her next breath, eyes wide in horrified disbelief. "No. He'd...not he'd not do that. It's not even been a week, how could he?" Bobby had barely left his room in days. When she'd seen him in the rec room, he'd looked utterly miserable, in no condition to go out and party, let alone find a random fling.

"Ask Angelo. He'll confirm everything I've said about where Bobby spent the night." he said sadly. "And the garage log has his name in it. I checked." he said sadly. "He must have taken things to heart, and moved on to find someone to patch up his own broken heart." He then reached across to take both her hands into his. "I am so sorry for you. I know exactly how much you hurt inside."

She shook her head, numb with shock and disbelief, though beneath it all her heart threatened to break from the news. "But that's not like him at all. He'd never do that." But what reason would Manuel have to lie? "I don't understand. How could he do this?" Was she really that unimportant that he could just move on?

Manuel shrugged. "I can't just violate him to get the answers you seek." he said. "As much as I might like to." He ran his thumbs across the skin of her hands, as one thing she'd made abundantly clear to him is that she is exceedingly tactile. A touch could get through where words could not. "Come here..." he said, gently pulling Terry into a hug. "I'm so sorry he's treated you this badly. You wouldn't give him what he wanted, so he found someone who would. You don't deserve that."

She went easily into his embrace, her hurt making her malleable. She rested her chin on his shoulder, her arms going around him automatically, feeling his hands rub her back soothingly. "I...I would have done anything for him. It was just one mistake. How could he do this to me?"

Manuel concentrated on naturally, non-psionically making her feel better. "He doesn't respect you. I wonder if he ever did." he told her. "You deserve much better. Someone to love you, take care of you, give you what you need." What she needed, in his opinion, was probably quite different than what she thought she needed. But she'd come around. It was all in the phrasing.

Terry shook her head, silently protesting the very idea that Bobby hadn't cared. He'd been so sensitive. So sweet and so patient. Even though they'd only been together a short time, he'd never made her feel pressured. And... "I thought he loved me. He said he did." It was something of a relief to have someone to cling to. She didn't know what she'd have done if she'd heard all this in passing gossip.

"People lie." he said simply. "It's the way of the world, especially in matters of the heart. He played you, and when you wouldn't move quickly enough, he was certainly quick enough to find someone to give him what he wanted." he pointed out. He pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Do not blame yourself for this. While Seattle affected him, he is the one who chose to go and find a night in someone else's arms. Not you. You did the _right thing_."

"I messed up in the first place!" Her lips quivered, her emotions running high all week and touched off easily by this. She blinked rapidly against tears. "How was I supposed to make this go any faster? I told you about when I first...asked him to sleep with me. He said no!"

Manuel winced outwardly, while grinning like a maniac internally. So she _was_ capable of making that step! Fantastic news! "Oh, Terry." he said, freeing a hand to wipe away the tears that were brewing. "You don't deserve this." he said simply, and then decided that the time to move was nigh. "You are free now. Free from him, free from obligation to spare his feelings. After all, he took such _good care_ of yours." he said sarcastically.

She sniffled. "But I don't want to be free from him. I love him." More tears began to track down her cheeks and she leaned in to bury her face on Manuel's shoulder, trembling as she fought to keep from sobbing.

"There there. Let it out, it's OK." he said reassuringly, caressing the girl's back through her sweater. He remembered what she looked like unclad, and felt himself stiffen at the mental picture that was etched into his mind.

His murmured encouragement broke her resolve to be strong and she clung to him tightly as she sobbed, shaking with every choked out breath. Why is this happening? Why can't I fix it? It wasn't fair that she was going to lose Bobby forever, that he was leaving her over one small mistake.

Manuel held the sobbing girl, offering her reassurances and letting her blubber. Finally, he broke the clinch so he could look into her red-rimmed eyes. Not her best look, but it would do. Softly, he kissed her. "You're still a beautiful woman. Robert is a fool to let someone as fine as you slip through his fingers." he told her.

She stared at him as he eased away, her eyelashes tangled with tears. One hand stole up to her lips, touching them softly. He was just trying to make her feel better, she told herself. It hadn't meant anything. "You don't have to do that," she said quietly, voice thick and rasping from crying.

Manuel shook his head. "No, but I want to." he said. "I told you. You're a beautiful woman. You're kind and sweet and sexy. You're too good for Robert. He treated you like shit. You gave him everything, and look what he gave you in return! False hope and false love." he pointed out.

"I started it. I'm the one who cheated on him." Guilt returned, crushing her again and making her dissolve back into tears. "This is my fault. But...I never thought he'd do this. I thought he loved me and it was only a matter of time..."

Manuel wiped her tears away again. He concentrated this time on her tactile senses - his hands in hers, the hug, the whispered condolences and endearments into her ear. "And is there no tolerance in him? No forgiveness, no love? Apparently not. I wish I could show you what I see, so you could see it for yourself..." he said with frustration. "Everything would be so clear then."

She was cuddled against him by the time he was done, practically in his lap with her face close to his. Her lips trembled then went thin as she pressed them together, her jaw firming in resolve. "Show me then. If that will make it clear."

Manuel sighed. "I wish I could, but you're not a psi, nor are you a mage." he said with frustration. "I can't show you because empathy doesn't permit mental linking. For that, you need a telepath or a mage. Amanda..." he said, and then in a rare slip let his mask fall, showing the naked anguish in his features, the raw and aching hole where his heart was. But only for a moment before he put the mask back in place. "But there is one thing I can do for you, and gladly." he said, and then kissed her again.

She kissed him back this time, tentatively, moved by his attentiveness and the glimpse of his pain. She was testing to see if he honestly wanted this, not wanting to take advantage of him just to soothe her own wounds. Hazy memories of Seattle awoke, curling through her, informing her hesitant kiss.

Manuel kissed her back, letting some of what he was feeling inside show in the urgency of the kiss, in how he let his tongue fence with hers. After what seemed like an eternity, he broke it off and then grinned at her, a very naughty de la Rocha grin. "Bedroom." he said, waving a hand at her door. "Unless you want to do this out here..." he said with a quirked eyebrow.

She swallowed and licked her lips, breathing a little harder than normal. "I...Clarice. I don't know when Clarice will be back." And she wasn't at all sure how much "this" was going to entail. Nerves hit her like a gut punch and she scanned his face anxiously, looking for a clue.

Manuel smiled reassuringly at her. "My room, then?" he asked her like it was the most natural thing in the world. He leaned in close to nibble on her earlobe and whisper "Relax" to her. "You have nothing to be afraid of."

Nothing except not knowing what he expected of her. Nevertheless, she rose easily when he pulled her to her feet, sure that no matter what, it would not be taken well if her suitemates came back to her kissing Manuel on the couch. And Terry did not want to have to hear the inevitable lectures and defenses of Bobby that would ensue.

Manuel led her back to his room quickly, his eyes glowing scarlet to preserve her twitchy nerves and to keep the two of them unremarked-upon. They arrived at his door, and he gallantly unlocked and opened it for her. Once she had passed him to enter his room, he closed and locked the door behind them. "Not much, I know, but it'll do." he said, pointing out the relative lack of decor. Then, wasting no time, he pressed Terry up against his door with his body, kissing her deeply, letting one hand wind through her curls while the other grabbed one of her hands.

Terry had no time to even notice the room's furnishings. She gasped in shock as her back met the wood and moaned when his mouth covered her forcefully. As uncertain as she was, it was a relief to have him take charge and take the decisions out of her hands. She could still say no but she didn't have to say yes and think about it. She hummed, the resonance vibrating through them both and tried very hard not to think about anything at all.

Manuel grinned as her vibrations echoed through his body. "Nice." he said, and returned the favor with his own power. His eyes glowed red as he reached inside of Terry's emotions, brushing a thread across the part of her mind that represented pleasure. Then he paused to see what she would do in response. He would tolerate no accusations of rape or of malfeasance. This had to be of her own will, her own desire.

Terry's eyes flew open as she gasped and shuddered, no hint of hesitation in her. She focused on him slowly, her brain taking a long time to catch on to the significance of his glowing eyes. Once she understood, or thought she did, she nodded. Anything to make the pain go away.

Manuel shook his head. "Say the words." he urged her. "Tell me what you want, and know it is your will, not mine." he said. "I swear it." He did, however, permit himself to run his hand through her curls, enjoying the feel of her hair between his fingers. "Together, we can forget the pain."

She choked, eyes closing again, trying not to remember how Bobby's hands felt in her hair. "Please. I don't want to think about him anymore. Help me forget." Her voice quavered and broke.

Manuel nodded. "Tell me more." he told her, running a fingertip along the skin of her face. His other hand toyed with her thick sweater, exploring her curves beneath the bulky garment.

Terry shivered. "I want..." Bobby...no! She bit her lip and opened her eyes, expression resolved. "I want to finish what we started in Seattle. I might as well be what he expected of me."

Manuel nodded, and then touched her chest - over her heart - with his hand. His eyes glowed crimson as he reached out to her emotions, bringing to her an unprecedented level of intimacy. For a while, while he maintained it, she could feel everything that he was ... the aching hole inside of him, the doubts, the self-loathing, the difficulties with the other students and staff, the old pride and haughty arrogance. He also lifted her sweater with one hand, letting his hand slide across the hot skin of her torso at will.

Terry cried out in his pain, clutching at his shoulders, her personality naturally making her cling to him to try to ease the hurt. In her, all the shadows were ringed in soothing green, a peaceful innocence that accepted without judging and tried to heal. She tilted her head back to look up at him and dragged his mouth down to hers, her entire self open and pliant.

Manuel accepted the kiss, used it to help paper over some of the ache inside of him. He kissed her like a man possessed, as if he was trying to draw her soul out. He only broke it off long enough to pull her sweater up and over her head, to land in an untidy spill on his floor. She was, despite how well she kissed, still mostly innocent. It was like a balm across his soul. He did break off the kiss to admire her choice of bras today - thick, white, and decidedly unsexy. Not quite what he was hoping for, but he accepted it for what it was anyway.

She moaned each time when he broke away, licking her lips as she gasped for breath. Her hands settled again on his waist after he'd pulled her sweater off. Her fingers flexed against his shirt restlessly as his hands streaked over her skin. The wood was cool against her back, her skin too hot already and his hands on her hotter still.

Manuel grinned his wicked grin at Terry. "Take it off." he whispered to her, running his fingertips lightly over her bra-clad breasts. In exchange he started unbuttoning his own shirt, finally shucking it and dropping it into the same discard pile as her sweater.

Terry reach behind her dazedly and unhooked her bra, shivering as she slid the straps off her shoulder, her skin blushed to a rosy pink. Though this wasn't the first time he'd seen her like this, she was still too shy to meet his eyes, focusing instead on the ground at her feet.

Manuel wouldn't permit that - he reached out to cup her chin and to force her eyes to meet his own. "Never be ashamed of your body." he told her, and then leaned in for another kiss before getting a very good look at her. "Beautiful." he said admiringly. "So very beautiful." he repeated, lowering his head to nuzzle at her chest, teasing her nipples with his teeth and tongue.

She would have protested but first his kiss then the scrape of his teeth over her breast drove all thought clean out of her head. She whimpered and arched her back, her hands burying themselves in his hair. Most of her weight rested against the door behind her as her knees went to jelly.

Manuel was never more glad than at that moment for all the hours he put in at the gym. He picked up Terry and carried her over to his bed, laying her down gently, removing her boots and setting them aside. He then massaged her foot through her stocking, uncannily finding the most tense and/or most sensitive spots and massaging them.

Her first reaction was to giggle, her feet being extremely ticklish. But then he hit the first pressure point and her giggle turn to a long moan, her whole body tensing then going limp. She covered her mouth with one hand, surprised by her own reaction and lifted her head to watch him.

Manuel looked up at her with a smile, moving to her other foot to repeat the process. "You're tense." is all he said. And he enjoyed the feel of her stockings under his thumbs, the look of her feet, that delightful moan she made when he hit a pressure point. It was as if her feet were _telling_ him where they were tense - he couldn't see any difference between one spot and another, he just _knew_.

"Im...Imagine that," she stammered before shuddering again as his thumbs dug into a small knot. She let her head fall back again, arms crossing over her chest automatically.

"Don't do that." he said, referring to her covering up. Then he let her foot go and ran a hand along the inside of her leg, over her stocking and under her skirt. Her skin was warm, almost feverish, and he could feel her arousal. He liked that - she was responsive.

Responsive and tense. She moved her arms slowly, hands clenched to loose fists, her breathing erratic. She shifted her legs and his hand skated over her knee. "What do yeh want me to do?" she whispered, her voice lilting and vulnerable.

Manuel smiled at Terry. Virgins, or close enough so as to make no difference. "Just relax. If something feels good, say so. If something doesn't feel good, say so." he explained before moving up alongside of her to nuzzle at her chest again. "Let yourself go. _Feel_."

For anyone else it would have been an act of extreme trust, giving up that much control. For Terry, it was as easy as breathing, giving herself over to him with a simple nod. The memory of his pain was enough to make her willing to offer, so long as it could help him. His hand continued up her leg, the denim of her skirt bunching around his wrist.

Manuel explored with that hand on her leg, touching her skin lightly through her stocking. He didn't go for the most obvious spots - not right away. He wanted to drive her _mad_ first - and her skirt was too long and his angle too awkward to reach them anyway. He nibbled a trail down her front, stopping just above the waistband of her skirt. Then he looked up at her and smirked. Laying back next to her, he crossed his arms behind his head and smiled at her, curious to see what she'd do.

Terry moaned softly, blue eyes focusing slowly on him. "Manuel?" She shifted her legs again, unsure what to do. He'd stopped moving and Terry didn't know if it was because she'd missed a cue or simply because he was toying with her. Either way, she was frustrated. "What....why did you stop?"

"I thought you might like to explore." he said, looking over at her. He then loosed one of his hands to take one of hers, and press it to his skin. "To give pleasure as well as receive it."

She sat up slightly, having no objection at all to running her hand lightly over his chest. After a moment, she sat up further and reached out to draw him to her, her hesitant touch being matched by a hesitant kiss, as her other hand joined her first in caressing soft patterns onto his skin.

Manuel kissed her back encouragingly, almost purring a bit as she explored his skin. He also slipped a hand back to her breasts, lightly stroking them, enjoying the soft skin and sensitivity.

She shivered, her kiss and her touch becoming more confident. After a moment, she broke away from his mouth, peppering his jawline with kisses that trailed onto his neck. She hummed quietly as she sucked at his skin, hardly noticing that she did so.

Manuel smiled as she hummed, humming in counterpoint to her own tune. While he wasn't in her class, he could still improvise something so simple effectively. Her mouth felt wonderful against his skin, and he wondered for a moment if that mouth would feel as good as it did before in other places. Hopefully, he would get the chance to find out. He wiggled as she hit a particularly sensitive spot.

His humming made her realize that she'd been doing the same and she blushed, glancing up at him sheepishly. She pulled back, licking her lips for a moment as she pondered what to do. Finally she nudged his shoulder. "If yeh lie down..."

Manuel did precisely as she wanted, laying himself flat for her. He smiled at her reassuringly, and lifted one hand to play with her curls. "You have such wonderful hair." he told her, revelling in the feel of it. "Women pay hundreds to get what you have naturally."

"Luck o the Irish," she murmured as she shifted, hands skating over his chest, fingers teasing his nipples. Her hands showed signs of her years of harp playing, calluses on her fingers rougher than the rest of her skin.

Manny was one of those men who was almost as sensitive as a woman when it came to his nipples. He groaned, just a little, as she brushed her calluses over them. "That feels good." he told her with another groan as she made another pass.

She smiled a bit shyly then lowered her head and replaced one of her hands with her mouth, using tongue and teeth to make him react. It was almost impossible not to compare this with doing the same to Bobby. She didn't have anything else to compare it to after all. Deliberately she looked up at Manuel to banish the thoughts of her ex-boyfriend.

Manuel looked back at Terry as she looked up at him. He smiled at her, then let his head fall and his eyes close to better concentrate on the sensations she was generating inside him. He even arched his back a little to get even more exposure.

As he'd done before for her, she worked her way across his chest when down to his waistband, tonguing his navel. One hand danced on his belt buckle and she looked up at him again, to see how far he wanted her to go with this.

Manuel grinned at her. "Go ahead, if you want." he said encouragingly, lifting his hips to allow her to slide his slacks off his body completely. As was his custom, he wore no underwear and his excitement was very, very obvious to see.

Without allowing herself to about it beyond the stray thought that she'd likely done this already if her hazy memories of Seattle could be trusted, Terry wrapped her small hand around him, stroking him lightly, teasingly though she didn't intend to do so.

Manuel groaned again at her touch on him. "Yesss." he hissed as his body bucked slightly and sent some very familiar signals shooting up his spinal column to nestle into his brain. He let the girl set her own pace, determined to enjoy every second of it. "Terry..." he sighed.

With that encouragement, her touch became a little surer. Her thumb caressed the head and she felt his hips twitch. She took a breath then leaned in and took him in her mouth, sliding down to touch her lips to her hand.

Manuel's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Her mouth was hot and wet, and her tongue was doing amazing things all up and down his length. He had to take a moment to back the sensations down, to bring himself under control. He did not want to end the evening too quickly, and he certainly did not wish to deprive the lady of taking him inside of her. He started to compare her to Amanda, but angrily banished the thought before it could fully take hold. This wasn't about the Brit, this was about _Teresa_.

She hummed again as she moved over his cock. It was easier to focus on the sensations and on breathing than it was to think about what she was doing. She could feel Manuel's hand still gripping her curls but kept the pace deliberately slow.

Manuel looked into her emotions, to see what was going on inside of her. She enjoyed doing this, he could see that much, but there was a greasy cloud of guilt staining her emotions, sapping the heights of her enjoyment. He was tempted to remove it, but he reminded himself that he wanted to give her no excuse to claim compulsion or coercion. Instead he ran his fingers through her hair and sat up slightly to watch her go to work upon him. Her technique needed work but he couldn't fault her enthusiasm.

Gradually, she built up her rhythm, adding speed and intensity, looking up his body at him to gauge his reactions. She continued to shove away any thoughts or feelings but the physical, preferring to remain as detached as possible unless he asked for more. That way, the hurt that continued to linger in the back of her mind could be ignored.

Manuel groaned as she sped up. "Oh, yes, Terry. Yes!" he told her as she sped things up and as things began to build within him. "That's so good." What she was doing felt good, but he wanted more. Needed more. He gently brought her back up to him for a kiss, then laid her flat on her own back, undoing the fasteners on her skirt. "Want you." he told her. "Want to taste you."

She licked her swollen lips, struggling to breathe normally. She helped him pull her skirt and stockings off then her cotton panties though she shivered as she did so. She murmured something in Irish, her voice harsh and rasping and her legs shifted together. She looked nervous and not a little embarrassed.

Manuel kissed her, letting his tongue play against hers. "You're a sexy woman, Teresa." he told her before starting to kiss a trail down her body, hitting _all_ of her sensitive spots on the way down. All along the way down he ran a fingertip along her sex, teasing her with the promise of what was to come.

"Terry," she corrected him even as her hips bucked up against his finger. She gasped and moaned, biting her bottom lip to stifle the sound. She gripped the sheets with her hands in order to not touch him, wanting to let him lead and to find out what he would do.

Manuel grinned. "I like your moan." he told her before swirling his tongue around her belly-button. "Don't hide it."

She shuddered beneath him and shook her head. "Voice powers. I should think yeh'd prefer to keep yer ceiling." A convenient excuse to mask her genuine discomfort with the abandon that he suggested.

Manuel laughed at that. "Not my ceiling." he pointed out. "And I like it when you're free. When you say what you feel, when you express how you feel. It makes me feel good." he said, tapping his forehead. He then inched a little lower, parting her legs as he went. Ah, now this was a sight and scent he remembered _well_. And she was definitely into him, he could see with great amusement. Experimentally, he extended his tongue and licked along the edge of her labia. Then he stopped and looked up at her to gauge her reaction.

Her teeth still bit deeply into her lower lip though even that couldn't stifle the sharp gasp that accompanied her hips rolling in response. Taking him at his word, she struggled to focus on him, speaking in a low, urgent voice. "Please don't stop. Don't tease."

Manuel grinned and then set-to with a vengeance. This was something he loved, and something he'd been doing for a long, long time. But every woman was different and Terry was no exception. Manuel sought out her sensitive places, learning where she liked to be touched and where she didn't, where she liked to be licked and where she didn't. He wanted to drive her _mad_, to put himself so far beyond Robert that the popsicle would be a long time in learning how to give her the kind of experience he was going to hand her.

It took very little time to have her forgetting her resolve to remain quiet and soon every breath was shuddering out on a moan. Her hands ached from their grip on the sheets as she tried not to move. Her whole body trembled with urgency, rapidly building. "Manny, god..."

Manny liked the sound of that, although he knew she wasn't actually referring to him as a God. Time to take things up a notch. He added a finger to the mix, knowing that she was so tight that she needed to work up to more. He was licking directly at her clit now, as much as she could stand. He wanted her to get off, and he wanted it _now_. Besides, if he remembered correctly she was more than capable of multiples.

Terry cried out, her hips shifting involuntarily to bear down on the finger he'd slipped inside her. It wasn't quite enough but she was close, so close that the nearness was making her whimper with frustrated need. "Please, le do thoill," she pleaded, not even noticing as she mixed languages.

Manuel had absolutely no knowledge of Gaelic - his favorite almost-dead language was Basque. He quirked an eyebrow at her then went back to licking her with quick, sure strokes. She was wet enough and relaxed enough to go for a second finger, although it would undoubtedly be a little tight for her. Still, she could handle it, and it would probably blow the top of her head off.

Terry almost made him stop, nearly dragged him up and demanded that he stop playing around. Then he renewed his intensity and worked in another digit. She was close enough that the stretching to fit his second finger was enough to make her tense up, hips still moving in tight thrusts. Her hand covered her mouth as she cried out though her voice remained tightly controlled.

Manuel kept things going, taking the intensity up a notch. The girl had stamina - he liked that. And she was verbal - that was even better. But perhaps it was time for the grand finale, so to speak. But he wanted her to ask for it - she might have earlier, but she wasn't speaking English. So he withdrew from her and pulled himself up to line everything up, then grinned down at her. "Do you want me?" he asked her.

It was sort of an unfair question to ask her while she still was throbbing from her first climax. It was all she could do to nod, blue eyes clouded and dazed when she forced them open so she could look at him.

Manuel shook his head. "Words, my dear. Say the words." he said, leaning down to nuzzle at her wonderful chest for a moment. While not nearly as full as Danielle, she definitely had more than Amanda, and he was _done_ with flat-ish women. Besides, her skin was far more responsive than the formerly-scarred witch. He could lose himself in it easily.

She made a soft pleading noise, "Aye, ba mhaith liom tuilleadh. Please." She arched into his touch, all her flesh hypersensitive and eager for more.

Manuel didn't understand the Gaelic, but he got the important parts. He adjusted slightly, and ever-so-slowly pushed his way inside of Terry. She was amazingly tight, and he was by no means a small man - another blessing of the clan de la Rocha. He took things slow to give Terry a chance to grow accustomed to him, and for him to enjoy the amazing tightness.

Slow didn't seem to be the issue for Terry who rocked her hips up to meet him, eyes closed again. Her hands let go of the sheet finally and wrapped around his waist, stroking the line of his back as she sought to take him in. She continued to murmur in Irish, so quietly it almost seemed to be solely for herself.

Manuel started off slow, but gradually increased the pace. She felt as wonderful as he thought she would, and for a second he bitterly regretted the Jamieson's in Seattle. But this wasn't about him - totally. It was more about her, getting her hooked on the kind of sex he preferred. And to that end he let a trickle of power enter her mind, exploring what made her feel good.

She was open to everything it seemed. Innocent and untried, but not afraid. Her hands gripped his hips though she mostly let him set the pace. She did beg him for a kiss, repeating herself in English when the request came out in babbled, breathless Irish the first time.

Manuel obliged her happily, kissing her deeply as he moved into and out of her. He adjusted his angle slightly, and was rewarded with a groan of pleasure from Terry. Now _that_ was a fun game he could play for hours and hours! While he kissed her he let one hand play with her breasts - he needed the other to hold him up.

She moaned into his mouth, her hips rocking up to taking him in as deeply as possible. His hand on her felt like a brand, hot and slick over her sweat-dampened skin. Her short nails dug into his back as he found a rhythm, urging him on.

Manuel kept his pace going, drawing things out. He could tell that she had depths she didn't even know existed, and he was determined to reach them. By the time he was done with her, she wouldn't even _remember_ the name Robert Drake. He would be a pale shadow compared to what he could do - was doing - to her.

His deliberate pace was maddening, every passing moment the most exquisite sort of torture as he ignored her attempts to hurry him along. There weren't any thoughts in her head that weren't of him, of what he was doing, of how she felt. She couldn't concentrate on anything else--just him.

Manuel smiled - that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to give her a memory that would haunt her for years to come. But he could speed up a little, and did so - things coming along more quickly now, the rhythm more demanding, more insistent. Just for fun, he buried himself inside of her again and then hit every pleasure-center she had empathically - just to see what she'd do. A quick jolt, nothing habit-forming or sanity-threatening. Just a taste.

Her entire body arched on the feelings, clenching around him. Her cry strangled inside her throat and emerged as a sob, eyes open but unfocused. They shuddered closed as she clung to him, body going pliant and heart softening, open to him even more than before.

Manuel laughed softly and continued about his merry way. He wanted to drive her _mad_ ... and, in all honesty, she felt fantastic. Unskilled, yes, but enthusiastic, which was its own sort of aphrodisiac. Grabbed a hold of her, he flipped them both over so she was on top - all the while using his fencer's body and agility to keep himself inside of her, although almost completely slipped out.

He had to hold her up at first, the first stroke deeper than before, filling her. The change was so unexpected that she almost couldn't understand it, her body adapting when her mind could not. Her head fell forward, thick red hair tumbling over her in a riot of color. She braced herself above him, eyes still closed and breathing harsh and ragged.

Manuel held her up with one hand and brushed away some of the red hair out of her eyes with the other. "Still with me?" he asked with an amused voice. "Show me what you've got."

She forced her eyes open, the blue swallowed almost entirely by the black of her pupil. She remained unmoving for a few moments, shaking in place, until her mind cleared enough to process his request. Licking her lips, she took a long shuddering breath. "Manuel..." It could have meant anything but she began to move above him, long, slow strokes that almost hurt, so intensely did she feel him.

Manuel let himself feel her movements, let his enjoyment show on his face. He almost wished he was recording this, so he could see it from many angles. Alas, that was probably pushing things too far. He took his pleasure not only from her body and how she worked it, but the expression on her face, the pleasure sizzling up and down her nerves, the chaotic whirl her mind was in, foregoing rational thought in terms of pure, primal emotion. Sex was never a rational exercise if it was being done right.

After a bit, she leaned down over him, increasing her pace, changing the angle and forgetting for a moment that there was anything to this other than her feelings, her pleasure. Every movement merited a soft, almost hurt noise that grew more and more needy.

Manuel easily matched her stroke for stroke, pushing her to do more, go deeper, faster, more intense. She was starting to climb the curve, and he wanted to help her over it - no little orgasms here, he wanted her to have one that would make her pass out from its intensity.

It got to the point where Terry almost didn't want to move, just wanted to hold still and let the feelings shudder through her, where every moment was too much, felt too good and she sobbed out her every breath. But Manuel's hands and hips urged her on and her body responded, higher and higher until she spilled over the edge, biting her lips against the cry she couldn't quite swallow.

Manuel heard her cry out and inside something frozen thawed, just a little. It wasn't much, but it was a start. Now he wanted to prolong her enjoyment - provide just enough stimulation to keep her right on the edge, dancing back and forth across it, but not so much that she overstimulated. It was a difficult skill, but he'd had a great deal of practice.

He was left supporting her again as she nearly melted in his hands, boneless and exhausted, moaning as he drew out the moment. Her mind filtered back to her slowly and she gradually realized that he'd spent all this time pleasing her without coming himself. "Manuel?" she murmured, trusting him to feel her question.

Manuel smiled up at Terry. "I'm not done with you yet, and I have exquisite control." he said with a laugh. "Believe me, you're wonderful." he said, only embellishing the truth a little. And even that hurt. "I am not the sort who just uses his partner to get himself off and then rolls over and goes to sleep." he said. "I prefer to make an event of it. To make the passion last for both ... or all the people involved."

Her heart clenched as he said it, the implication bringing back the guilt and the hurt. She closed her eyes against the sudden pain--all she'd lost with her stupidity. "You don't have to. I have to go soon or someone will miss me." This was all a mistake. Deliberately, she bent and sealed her mouth over his, her body gliding over his skin. Too late to correct it now.

Manuel received the kiss but couldn't help but see the emotion. She was thinking too much - time to make her feel. He flipped them back over so she was back on the bottom, and then looked down at her carefully, to study her. Fix her into his mind. Then with a slight adjustment and a forward rock of his hips, he was back inside and moving _fast_. Time to stop with the slow-and-tender bit, go out with a bang.

Being flipped on her back had shocked her, making her yelp. She grabbed his shoulders only to have her hands slip off again as he started to move, fast, deep, relentless. Moving to meet him was almost more than she could do, her movements small and helpless like the cries she smothered with one hand.

Manuel grabbed her wrists with one hand, pinning them above her head as he moved inside of her. He just wanted to please himself at this point - she'd already had her fun, now it was time for him to have his. Besides, he rather fancied that look on her.

She jerked once at her hands then just moaned and arched against him, letting him do as he wanted. It was so much easier to just surrender utterly than to fight. She didn't know why he'd changed so suddenly but she also didn't much care. His name escaped as a moan and a shudder.

He kept moving, making heavier contact, going in harder, coming out to do it all over again. He could feel her enjoyment, not only in the obvious bits but almost as they moved under her skin, along her nerves, and into her brain. It was hypnotic and very distracting. It was like a switch was flipped inside of him - before, he could keep his cool, but now he just had to lose himself in her. He jolted her pleasure centers again, a harder stimulation this time, and pulled her arms up even higher, forcing her chest outwards.

Terry cried out, a little of her power bleeding though as her control shattered, her voice wavering through a hundred harmonies. She clenched around him as she came again, body reacting to the emotional charge. She managed to open her eyes to focus on him but there was no thought there.

Her power and her own orgasm (Number Three for the night - he'd take it!) was enough to send him finally shooting over the edge, crying out in Basque. The word "Sorgin" was repeated over and over again until he came back to himself enough to withdraw and pull himself back together.

She lay limp, whimpering, pupils blown and breath ragged. It was several long minutes before she moved, drawing her arms down from above her head, her shoulders aching. She sat up slowly, drawing her knees to her chest as she glanced at Manuel. "I should go," Terry said finally.

"If you want." he said. "Spend the night or go, it's your choice." he said tiredly. The game was over, and perhaps it was time to let the pigeon go. He got what he wanted, after all, with no risk of entanglements. So why did he feel vaguely shitty about it?

"I can't. Clarice will wonder where I am." She stood shakily, and gathered her clothes. She slipped her sweater back on then fingered her jean skirt, considering the rough feel. With a glance back at Manny, she picked up a pair of his slacks instead and slid those on instead.

"Be my guest." he said, gesturing towards the slack. "You'll forgive me if I don't return the favor. Skirts don't do much for me." he said with a small laugh. "And why do you care if Clarice knows where you are?"

Terry gave him an unreadable look though the feeling behind was shame and disappointment. "Manuel, I...I just do. I can't just do this and not care." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry."

Manuel nodded, and stretched out, still completely nude, on the rather rumpled sheets of his bed. "You should try it sometime." he said.

She gave him another look, this one sad. "No. I don't think I should." Terry swallowed and rolled up her clothes into a neat ball. "I have to go now. I...thank you for trying to help."

"Did it?" he asked, staring at his own ceiling. "Do you feel better inside, having got your bit to go with his bit?"

She paused at the door, thinking about it. She felt no less guilty. Tired, yes. But still hurt, still wounded. And now disgusting. She'd thrown out everything she'd been raised to believe and nothing had changed. "Not really."

Manuel sighed. "Yeah, I thought so." he said tiredly. "At least I tried it the old-fashioned way." he said to himself. "You'd better move along, girl, before the whispers start."

"Aye..." Terry glanced at him again, then slipped out the door, hurrying back to her room.

Manuel stared up at his ceiling. It was as if someone was trying to tell him something. He got what he wanted - Bobby in his bed, Terry in his bed - and at the same time it wasn't very satisfying at all. Maybe the next one would be different, whoever that would up being.



Monday morning, after a miserable Sunday, Terry is still hiding in her room. Bobby, guilty following the events of the weekend, comes to find her and apologize.



Terry pulled her pillow over her head as the door opened. "Go away, Clarice," she said miserably, assuming her roommate had come in again to convince her to actually get up. Terry had started crying the moment she'd reached her room again and had fallen into bed then and there, with her sweater pulled on over a pair of Manny's pants, rolled several times at the waist and still too long for her. She had barely moved for an entire day and intended to go on as she’d begun. The rest of her clothes were still lying in a bundle at the end of the bed with the towel that had been around her hair when she came in.

Bobby nearly turned and fled, but the sight of Terry, looking so miserable and so...Terry, kept him there. "...It's not Clarice," he said softly, hovering in the doorway, afraid to get closer without an invitation. He'd dumped her, after all--and then slept with Manuel himself not a week later.

Terry's entire body went rigid. Oh god, no. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a bad dream because only in the worst of dreams did the absolute last person you wanted to see walk into the room. She peeked out from under her pillow and whimpered. "What do you want?"

Bobby flinched--not exactly a promising beginning. "Can we talk?" he asked, giving her a pleading look.

Terry groaned. He must have found out about Manuel. Why else would he be here? "I don't want to talk about it. You were right to break up with me." She was just lucky he'd been as nice about it as he had been. Not that it had kept him from moving on as quickly as possible.

That certainly wasn't what Bobby expected to hear her say, and it left him speechless for a minute. "I--what? Why...?"

"I slept with Manuel." She sniffled and looked at him, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy. "I'm glad that you're not too upset and you moved on." Ordinarily Terry would have reflected on the double standard that it was okay for him to sleep with anyone post break up but that she felt like less than slime doing so.

Moved on? Not upset? Slept with-- "What? I thought you said you didn't..." But that wasn't important. Whether she had or not, Bobby had, so he didn't really have room to condemn her for it, right? "Look. I came here to tell you I--made a mistake. I miss you, Terry." It cost him something to say that, but it didn't matter. He wanted her back.

"I didn't in Seattle." She sat up, frowning, wondering if he really didn't know what she'd done. His words sank in slowly and she realised that he couldn't know or he wouldn't have said he wanted her back. Too late now to pretend nothing happened. "I...Saturday night. Manuel came to tell me about...he said you'd gone clubbing and brought someone home and I thought...since you were over me..." Terry shrugged.

Bobby leaned against the wall, giving her an incredulous look. "...Brought someone home?" he asked softly, as things started to slowly add up in his head. "Of course, he didn't say who," he added a bit bitterly, closing his eyes. Was that what that had been about? All to manipulate Terry?

Terry shook her head. "He didn't know, I don't think. He just...wanted me to know." She remembered the despair and the rage.

"He didn't have that much to drink," Bobby snapped, feeling stupid and angry and utterly played. "Idiot..."

Terry's frown deepened. "What do you mean? What does Manuel drinking have to do with anything?" She couldn't remember what Manuel had said he was doing Friday evening, only that he'd passed by Bobby's suite and felt...things going on.

Bobby pounded his fist against the wall angrily, and then fell against it with a groan, his eyes closed. "It was him, Terry. He's the one I--" He took a deep breath and looked at her. "I'm sorry. I was going to tell you about it, before I asked you to get back together with me..."

She shrank back against her headboard, curling into a tight ball with her pillow bunched behind her back. "You...He didn't say that. Why would he have lied to me?" But it fit. It wasn't like Bobby to have gone out clubbing. She'd known something was off but hadn't know the missing piece...Manuel fit in perfectly. "You slept with him?"

Bobby nodded, staring at the floor. "He told me you threw yourself at him, and said I deserved a night out, having fun, not moping about you..." He couldn't believe he'd actually listened to him, now. He didn't need Terry to tell him it had been a lie--he knew her well enough to know she wasn't like that.

"He...I...what?" Words failed her and she was left making small helpless hand gestures that attempted to convey how utterly wrong the idea that she threw herself at anyone was. Or at least, in Seattle. Saturday...that was a different story. She'd agreed to that, every step of the way. She remembered the pain he'd shared when he'd opened up to her, the way he'd seemed to need her. What kind of game was Manuel playing with them?

Bobby didn't really care, at that point. That wasn't why he was here, to talk about Manuel. "Terry...I love you. I don't care what happened, with you and him. I just want you back."

But Terry was still trying to grasp the idea that Manuel had lied to them. First to Bobby--as though he needed to think worse of her--then to her, twisting the truth to sleep with her. "Why would he do that? Why break us up like that?"

"I don't know. I don't know if that's what he meant to do from the start, or if it just happened and he took advantage of it...does it matter?" Bobby took a step toward her, reaching out. "Can you forgive me for breaking up with you?"

"Forgive you?" Terry repeated incredulously, looking at his hand with baffled surprise. "Bobby...you were right to break up with me. I'm a horrible person! What do you have that I need to forgive?"

Bobby shook his head firmly. "No, I overreacted. This is all my fault. Please, just say you'll take me back."

"It's not your fault. Mother of God..." she leaned forward and caught his hand, pulling him to her bedside. "It's not. You didn't do anything. I'm the one who messed everything up. I should have found somewhere else to stay and never believed Manuel when he told me those things. You don't have to be sorry."

Bobby clutched at her hand, sinking onto the edge of her bed. "Does that mean you'll take me back?" he asked softly, watching her closely.

Her eyes widened, "Bobby, I don't deserve you back." Her voice wavered. For a week she'd wished for nothing else but to have him forgive her and take her back. Now she'd ruined so much, betrayed his trust twice, that accepting seemed unfair. "Haven't you heard a word I've said?"

"Every word," Bobby reassured her, tugging impatiently at her hand. "I've told you, I don't care. None of it matters." He smiled faintly at her. "I love you, Terry."

She still looked uncertain even as she let him pull her to him, inching closer. "I love you too. Are you sure that you want me back? You don't have to. You can find someone else. Someone better."

Bobby frowned and shook his head. "I don't want anyone else," he murmured, reaching for her with both hands now. "I want you. God, I've missed you..."

"Bobby..." she had to stop and fight back tears then flung herself at him, catching him around the neck. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't ever want to hurt you, I swear."

Bobby hugged her tightly to him, burying his face in her hair. "Shh...I know, sweetie. It's okay. I'm sorry too." But she was in his arms again, that was the important thing.

Wasting little time and less effort, Terry wormed her way into his lap so as to facilitate clinging. It seemed like a hundred years since she'd last been in his arms and she missed it. Nothing felt quite the same and Terry couldn't imagine how she'd ever thought she could forget in Manny's arms. "I love you. I love you so much."

Bobby smiled, eyes closed as he held her on his lap. "I love you, too." He pulled back a bit, slipping his fingers under her chin and tilting her head up for a soft, lingering kiss. There. Now that was what he'd been wanting for two weeks.

A tear slipped down her cheek as she kissed him. This was want she wanted. But she knew that she'd have to deal with all her mistakes as well. When he broke the kiss softly, she licked her lips and tried to put on a cheerful face. "I've missed you. I haven't been able to sleep during this."

Bobby gave her a somewhat reproachful look. "Did you go to the medlab for something?" he asked, and then kissed the tip of her nose, pretty much cancelling out the sternness he'd managed to summon up.

She looked shamefaced. "No." Her contrite expression was marred by the following yawn and her snuggling into his shoulder. "I didn't want to be drugged. I wanted you. I knew I'd be able to sleep if I had you back." She was fairly certain that the last quality hour of sleep she'd had had been snatched while downstairs with Tommy.

"Well, now you've got me," Bobby answered, smiling at her. "I suppose this is your way of telling me it's naptime, huh?"

She yawned again and looked up at him through her lashes. "If you want to stay. Clarice is already telling my teachers that I'm going to be missing morning classes." She wrapped herself more firmly around him, making her preference crystal clear and not really giving him all that much of a choice to the contrary.

Bobby chuckled and nodded. "All right, then. Let's nap." He wasn't really all that tired himself, but he wasn't going to complain about getting to lie with Terry snuggled against him for a while. At least until he was due in the DR.

Terry beamed and pulled him back, letting them both fall to her mattress. She spent a few moments sorting things out, wrapping his arms around her just so and curling her limbs about him. She finished up with a glance at the clock. "Just a little nap. Clarice will be back about one, I think."

Bobby nodded and kissed her forehead. "I have a DR session in a while, but I'll try not to wake you when I go," he assured her.

She yawned again and nodded. "Okay." She kissed his neck, as that was the only part in reach then cuddled against him. "I love you, Bobby."

Bobby grinned, closing his eyes with a contented sigh. "I love you, too."