Date: 2012-08-11 07:19 pm (UTC)
In many ways, Richard is trapped in adolescence. Risk-seeking, lack of empathy, proneness to boredom, no sense that the future will ever really happen. Feelings aren't real, they're just silly chemical processes that weaker people allow to cloud their senses. Like pixies, but scientific.

He's felt grief, though, once, fifteen years ago, when his father figure was dying. It was strange, all that feeling, and done in a day so that when the death actually came he was fine. But still--he felt it, and sometimes he still thinks of Linus, and how he could have been a part of Salome's life, maybe an actual, good influence, and it twists his gut a little with something undefinable.

Not that the experience will get him to, say, relate to Salome's fear of losing him in any real, sincerely compassionate or empathetic way. But still. If she ever gets him to talk about his old tutor, it might be a good place to start a conversation about how feelings really are legitimate.

Of course, right now, none of that crosses his mind. He's too busy trying to focus on the road, trying to restrain himself while his daughter calls him a creep and fondles him through his pants. He grinds his tongue against his teeth, then clenches his jaw at the sound of her whimper. It's the feel of her teeth, though, that gets him to moan, and her statement that gets him hard as a diamond to consider.

"Oh, Christ, baby. And to think you call me a creep--the unbelievable shit that comes out of your mouth, you wicked little minx." He rolls her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tilting his head to speak against the temple of her forehead in a lips-parted, tender kiss.

And then she starts to back out. No, Jesus, no, who the fuck's supposed to be the stupid one who doesn't give a rat's ass about risks? "Salome, kitten, sweetheart, you can't tease a man like that." His pelvis rocks back to let his bulge press up against her hand, the pressure making his heart speed. "Why would you be so cruel to your poor old man? But if the idea of attracting attention makes you nervous," he adds, grinning slyly, "you could always just use your hand. That way, no suspicious heads in laps. And besides, I love the sound of your voice, baby, you can't even imagine."
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Salome

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