Ardent Sunlight

+ ALEXIS has a bone to pick with rich, egotistical, megalomaniacal assholes who use their wealth and power to abuse, to use, and to discard.

+ SPENCER is a rich, egotistical, megalomaniacal lothario, and he has a bone to pick with young, beautiful women who manipulate men.

"I've seen you around here before," he smirks, ice clinking in his glass. "You have a tendency to go upstairs with rich, old men."

Steel in her spine, Alexis smiles sweetly at him, leaning forward to rest her chin on an upturned palm. She sees his eyes flicker involuntarily towards her chest, so fast she might have missed it, had she not been looking for that exact response.

Gotcha.

"You're beautiful, of course," he continues genially. "But clearly you know that."

"Are you expecting me to tell you it's not what it looks like?" She crosses her legs as she responds, following the path of his eyes as they appraise her. Red heels, red dress, red lips, but oh, she knows she can make him bleed for her.

His smirk widens, opening into a smile so genuine and infectious she finds herself taken aback. "I don't care," he murmurs, fingers curling beneath his tie, "if it's exactly what it looks like."

"And why is that?"

His tie loosens, and she forces herself not to focus on his throat as he burns it with the last of the whiskey. He fixes his eyes back on hers--were they that blue before?--and, "Sweetheart," he says, "what it looks like is exactly what I'm looking for."