(co-written with Sin Incarnate)

It was somewhere around noon time, heavy curtains pulled across the windows that made up all three walls of the bedroom to keep out the intrusive daylight. Kami was sitting in the middle of the king sized bed, her back against the headboard, and she'd piled up most of the pillows artfully to make herself a little nest. The dog was snoozing on one side of her, his head on his paws, and on the other side lay a room service tray complete with silver plate charger and a silver domed plate cover. On the charger? Four individually wrapped packages of string cheese, and one discarded string cheese wrapper.

Yes, she'd actually called room service (and smothered a giggle when the tinny voice on the other end of the line addressed her as Mrs. Kelly), and demanded exactly five individually wrapped string cheese snacks. Not two, not an entire bag. Precisely five. She held the fifth one in one hand, the remote control for the television in the other. She was still in her pajamas, a pair of soft pink terry cloth short shorts and a black tank top with the word "Bashful" emblazoned across the chest in pink embroidery. Her silver white hair hung in un-brushed ringlets around her shoulders.

This was the kind of thing that sometimes happened when Kami was left unsupervised, especially on her first day "off" in what felt like forever.

Ace had returned after a surprisingly productive morning. He'd enjoyed driving around in his new Cadillac CTS, which was much more reliable than his other flashy sports cars that really weren?t suitable for the season. Having parked and pocketed the keys, he grabbed the shopping bag of favorable snacks from the passenger's seat. He'd entered the hotel, flashing the receptionists a billion dollar smile to their own smiles and "Good afternoon, Mr. Kelly" greetings.

In and out of the elevator, it hadn't taken him long at all to breach the doorway to the top floor suite. A jingle of keys and the soft compression of the door clicking back into place, he kicked off his loafers and socked feet padded over the carpet. It was relatively quiet, and a peek around the corner said she wasn't in the living room or foyer. There was a light roll of his eyes as he could only guess where she was.

"Oh, Kami~" He crooned, pointlessly announcing his presence, which was prompted by that telltale brushing of his knuckles with his thumb as a devilish smirk played coy on his lips. Headed straight for the bedroom, he poked his head in through the doorway with a playfully narrowed look. "I should've guessed you'd be Slothing it up and..." He scowled lightly. "Stinking the bed up with cheese...." He groaned lightly, stepping into the room, and tossed the bag of snacks onto the bed beside her -- opposing the side Dozer was... well, dozing on. His fingers went straight for his tie, loosening it before he slid it free from the collar of a crisp black dress shirt that matched the slacks he wore.

There was a glance over his shoulder, a tilt of his head as he read the word on her shirt and quite literally snorted. "...Challenging Belial's title?" There was an amused smirk to join the tease.

Aware of him the moment he'd crossed the threshold, Kami waited for the sensation she knew was coming next. No matter how much time passed, she never seemed to develop a tolerance for that particular feeling, it still affected her exactly the way it always had, always did, probably always would. It was just a matter of degree, how much she let herself react, how many other people were around. A soft moan left her lips, her pink painted toes curling, and if he was paying attention, he might have heard her mutter the words "Welcome back, ****."

Dozer didn't react, even when the bag of snacks landed on the bed with a rustle thunk, not three feet from him.

Oh, he'd heard it. And it only brought that flicker of unabashed Hellfire at the edges of his irises like the lapping of waves on the shore in his eyes. "Tough crowd," he hummed, but there was no less amount of amusement in his tone.

Just as it was no surprise that the lethargic hound didn't budge or really seemed to notice the jostle of plastic.

"Hey," the girl protested, mock-defensively. "I haven't been completely lazy. I terrorized the wait staff some," she said, as if this made up for not being dressed yet, for not being out of bed, for watching cartoons in little more than her underwear. "And anyway, string cheese doesn't stink. Want one?"

Kami watched him move around the room, getting comfortable, and ...stayed exactly where she was. It was a giant bed, after all, there was plenty of room for him still if he wanted in on all the hot laying around doing nothing action. Grinning, she lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. "I can totally be bashful with the right motivation..." she countered, and then shook her head with a self-deprecating laugh. "Okay, okay," she relented. "It might be false advertising."

"Oh, if that's the case, you've been very productive, haven't you?" The sarcasm in his voice was mild as he draped his tie over the lounge chair a few feet from the bed, his fingers nimbly working the buttons of his dress shirt open. "It does so," he argued, "...but yes, I'll take one," he said a split second later as he peeled off his shirt, adding it to the pile he was making on the chair. His belt and pants came next, shamelessly undressing in front of her-- but it was nothing she hadn't seen a million and a half times before. Left only in silk boxers, he moved to the dresser and pulled open the drawer - pointedly standing in front of the television to block her view. Just because. Just to be a hindrance in her cartoon watching. He pulled out a pair of pajama pants and.. still stood there as he slipped them on.

"Might be false advertising? Heathen, bite your tongue," he spat playfully, then couldn't help the laughter that spilled freely afterwards. "I won't listen to your filthy lies. Besides," he grunted, snapping the waistband of those pajama pants with a smirk at her. "The fact your top falsely advertises is one of the most appealing features you have."
"I have," she agreed, plainly proud of herself. "They called me "Misses Kelly" and fell all over themselves to meet my outrageous demands. It was kinda fun, really." She scrunched up her nose in a cute way that was almost kittenish, snickering.

He shamelessly undressed in front of her and Kami shamelessly watched. If seeing the boss man in his underwear --or less-- was something you couldn't handle, then this was absolutely the wrong line of work to find yourself in, and nevermind finding yourself in your underwear -- or less -- around him. At his assent, she snagged one of her four remaining cheese cylinders off the room service tray and held it out to him for the taking... at least until he stepped in front of her cartoons on purpose. Making an exaggerated show of frowning, she retracted her outstretched arm and straight up chucked it at him, instead.

Death by flying cheese stick missile. She'd be famous--no, legendary-- if he didn't catch it. (Of course he was going to catch it.)

She made a note of the number he indicated. Well. She'd met two of the three for sure at the bar that night, but she wasn't sure about the other one. Making another mental note to ask about it later, she exhaled through her nose in a noise that was somewhere between a snort and a laugh. "It'll be a real mind**** for 'em when you bring somebody up here and I don't leave, then, if that's the case." She preened, immensely pleased with herself when he said he couldn't scare her away. "I know, and even if y'could it's not like you're letting go, so." A shoulder rolled, evidence that she assumed her deduction was obvious accordingly. "If anybody gets to run around bein' "Misses Kelly", it's me."

So there.

Snickering at the brutish way he ate his cheese stick, Kami picked hers up again and stuck what remained of it in her mouth -- all of it, curling it up so the whole thing would fit. Now who's a savage? the waggle of her brows seemed to say as she chewed. "Who else can do those things? Nobody, that's who." Mine. Maybe the Greed had rubbed off on her, too.

Crawling underneath that arm, she'd sunk into the pillows with him too, melting into the bed beside and, eventually, mostly on top of him. He made a good body pillow, she made a slightly uncomfortable blanket. It worked for them. "Screw moving," the girl agreed readily.

"Or they'll think you're a freak with a threesome fetish," he laughed easily. "That could be fun. They'll be shuddering at the prospect of the orgy mess they may have to clean up when we finally leave here." He grinned, a dastardly thing amid the neatly trimmed beard. His chin lowered as he gave her a fierce look, fueled by Greed and Pride. "Over my undeniably fit and attractive dead body." At that point, the ferocity behind it broke into a soft quake of laughter set deep in his chest. He smirked, lifting his hand to scritch his fingers over her scalp. "You've earned the facade, darling. If I allow anyone to play the role of my fake wife, it would be you." Pause. Sigh. "Real ball and chain that one... doesn't even put out," he grunted, lifting his free arm and tucking it behind his head comfortably.

He'd grinned broadly as his eyes fixated on the television, to this Snorks she subjected him to. Her Greed tickled his senses, and there was a low rumble in his chest. "I'd devour them whole," he admitted. "You're the only one who can get away with it." He wrinkled his nose as if the thought was distasteful.

His legs shifted beneath her use of him, uncrossing as he bent and tilted his leg to slide beneath one of hers. If he was uncomfortable with the fleshy blanket she'd made herself into, he didn't admit to it or really seem bothered. There was a rumble of laughter as he nodded firm. "A-men." Oh, the irony..

"Mm. I could be, I s'pose..." She trailed off, likely trying to picture herself in a threesome with Ace and...some faceless, ultimately inconsequential stranger. She felt the shift in his chest and looked up just in time to catch his fierce look, the strong and semi violent vow that he was, in fact, never letting go. A soft smile touched her face -- as much because it made her genuinely happy to hear him say it as because she knew it was kind of **** up that hearing him say it made her genuinely happy -- but her words made light. She made a point of looking down at the torso she was basically laying on, as though to assess and appraise it, and ultimately gave a reluctant nod of approval. "Mm. This one is pretty hot," she conceded with another nod, and then laid her head down there once more, nuzzling into the intricately pattern-decorated muscles.

A soft laugh lifted her chest , rippling both of them as it harmonized with his much lower baritone growl. "Well, you know, if you want me to put out...." She trailed off, leaving what condition he might theoretically have to satisfy for that to happen unspoken.

Ace shifted underneath her, and Dozer snuggled closer on her other side, likely seeking their combined warmth if only because it was more expedient than trying to make more of his own. Kami was content, warm, and comfortable, and full of processed cheese stick, and she curled her fingers into his sides almost like she was trying to hold onto him, like she somehow thought he might get away. "Damn right," she mumbled into his skin, about being the only one allowed to get away with being exactly who she was with, and to him. "Missed you, y'big... weirdo, you."

Though it was **** up, he figured there had to be some form of gratification in the idea of having a Devil fight for you. Right?... He'd raised a brow, watching her assess his latest manifested embodiment. His head tilted some, making a point himself to await the verdict of her opinion. As if it mattered, and it very well might. When she gave her nod of approval, there was a hook to the corner of his mouth, pleased. "Thank you," he purred. "It took a little effort to craft," he snickered, resuming the playing with her hair when she nuzzled into his core, which radiated warmth like a Hellish fire pit.

By the time she trailed off, he was already making a face. Scrunched, as if he'd tasted something awful. "If I want you to put out? Doll, the only way I'd even think about it is if you want it. I abuse a lot of things, but not my power to get laid," he laughed, shaking his head. He was far too proud for his own good sometimes, but he saw no fault in it. Naturally.

His pride was sated, though, like a warm pit in his belly as he felt her squeeze him as if he was on the run, as if he possibly could find the willpower to get out of the bed and escape from her clutches. She certainly built herself a successful case against that. His arm constricted tighter around her shoulders, a warm smile chipping away at the ice before he was laughing under his breath. "I missed you too, my little mutation," he teased through a smirk before he closed his eyes. "... ...Is it time for a nap yet?" He mumbled, his head turning some until her hair at the scalp tickled his nose, but he didn't seem to mind - or care.

"Course I want it," her voice was muffled given that half of her face was pressed into his chest, but it traveled well enough over the laugh track of the old cartoons on screen. "Have you seen you?" The argument was old ground, tread and re-tread so many times that it had almost become an inside joke by now. Almost.

Giggling quietly, Kami shook her head and then settled once more, the breath leaving her in a deep sigh of contentment. Her eyes had fallen closed, the rhythmic swirl of his fingers in her hair sapping every ounce of motivation she might have had left to move. "I just...like what we are an' I don't want it **** up." The girl had her points of Pride, too, and being this important to him mattered to her too much for her to want to risk screwing it up by screwing him.

But it's not like she was some kind of unfeeling robot. Of course she thought about it sometimes...

Especially when he rubbed his knuckles.

Releasing her death grip hold on him, her fingertips drew lazy circles along his ribs, an idle and indolent caress, but no less heartfelt for its lack of energy. "It is definitely nap time," she agreed, nuzzling closer. "Dozer said so."

"There's nothing to forgive," she said, pressing a light kiss on the warm skin of his back. "I understand." Nuzzling him once more, her arms gave a light squeeze just before he pulled them apart. Her hands resettled along the back of his hips when he moved, the tips of her index fingers curled at the top knuckle to hook his belt loops. Touched by his apology, she was smiling lightly when she looked up at him, nodding. "I know. I put in an order to have it detailed as soon as I got back so there's no lasting damage." Kami might have been something of a spoiled princess, but she wasn't completely thoughtless. She smiled at his offer to buy her something else, but --perhaps surprisingly, gently shook her head. "Nah. We just need to bring my other ones here from New York."

Thick lashes lowering when he kissed her forehead, she tipped her face into the curl of his fingers in her hair. "Mm. That feels nic--" she started, luxuriating in the way his hand moved over her scalp, but the words were cut short by his final admonition. A grin had slipped into place then, and though half a dozen smart ass comments may have rolled through her mind simultaneously, what she settled on was, "Yes, Dear."

He probably could have argued, but she understood. He still didn't feel it was a fit excuse, or that he didn't owe apology when he let it get the best of him. He only sighed and nodded, but when he turned around, there was a small smile. "I'm thankful you understand me," he admitted in a hushed whisper, as if it was merely a thought that escaped him verbally. She spoke of the car, and he chuckled. "Oh, so if you ran into a mailbox... I won't notice?" He teased, and... yes... he did just make that joke. The fact that she said no - wait, really? - to a new, flashy shiny thing, had him obviously surprised.

His brows soared, and he stared at her a moment. Then the look relaxed. "Hm, I do miss the accessibility of the warehouse in New York," he frowned a moment. He had himself quite a collection, to the point that he could almost drive a different car every day for a month. It was a work in progress. And supremely unnecessary for the city, but he wasn't a subway kind of man. You'd be lucky to get him into a taxi. Especially without complaining about them. They're not driving fast enough. This car stinks. If I get anything on my suit, I'm going to throw them through the windshield. ...I still want to throw them through the windshield. NYC traffic... brought out the hostility in the devil...

Even with that half-teasing threat, his fingers didn't quite stop gently massaging her scalp, further tangling into those locks. But her retort had his smile wreaking havoc among neatly trimmed scruff, and he snickered. "At least you don't tease me with Sir anymore," he jested, giving her a pointed, yet playful, glaring growl before he pecked her sloppily on the cheek and stepped away with a smirk to retrieve his tea.

"I'm famished," he was exaggerating significantly. He ate an hour ago. "What do you want for dinner?" He hummed, lifting his cup as he stepped away altogether, the Car Drama over and moved on from like the crack of a whip as he started for the comfort of soft couch cushions, a snoring English bulldog, and a television remote.

"Me? Run into a mailbox?" Kami pulled one hand free, leaning back from him just enough to plant that hand on her own chest, dramatically. She wouldn't move far enough to dislodge his fingers from her hair, though -- girl had her priorities even when she was being histrionic. "****'s sake, Ace. I haven't done that in...at least twenty years!" She was grinning though, perfectly aware that twenty years was absolutely nothing to him. And that he'd been the one to teach her how to drive in the first place. That was the joke, see. It's funny 'cause it's...yeah.

She nodded, and as her hand moved down from her chest, it lifted to curl loosely around his outstretched arm. "Besides, it's my job to understand you. And don't look at me like that -- I miss the warehouse too. Let's get another one when we find a house here, hm?" Her grin spread like she knew she was getting away with something. See, I'm still perfectly capable of spending your money...don't let the fact that I turned it down once fool you... "When are we going house hunting, anyway?"

"Well, you get that funny look on your face when I call you that, so..." Now that she was sure she wasn't in trouble anymore, Kami had become quite the chatterbox, all high energy and multiple subjects. There was a measure of truth in it when he'd said that things had been awfully quiet while she was out, and the girl seemed well on her way to making up for it. "Dear seemed safer. I am the long suffering housewife here, right?" Tilting her cheek into that kiss, her fingers traced his jaw lightly and then fell away as he moved past her. "Ramen. Let's get ramen. There's a place I saw on my way back today that probably delivers here, looked authentic enough..."

She'd started to follow him to the couch when the doorbell rang. "Oh! I forgot about the bellman. Whoops." Redirecting her path to the door, little patent leather heels clicked quietly across the flooring as she moved swiftly to answer it.

Nearly disappearing into the shadows of eye sockets, his brows breached in a low sweep. "Twenty years isn't that long ago, Kami..." He argued, and to him... it was generally ten minutes. "And things can happen..." He lifted his chin, lips twitching as if he was restraining laughter. Though, he truly believed in his ability to teach. He'd be disappointed! So disappointed! Okay, not really, he would've laughed.

"Job or not, you still execute it flawlessly," he smiled, feeling the pressure of her hand on his arm as he stroked fingers through those styled locks. Defiantly, when she told him not to look at her like that... it only amplified in its dramatization. If not a little cross-eyed, just for the Hell of it. Until those dark eyes straightened out and he seemed to like the idea. "Mn, a whole new warehouse to fill..." He murmured, looking upward with stars in his eyes - tainted with a little bit of Hellfire. She asked of house hunting, and his lips curved into a devious smile. "Well, now that you're finally here, any time. I've been looking, but the market isn't as agreeable as I'd hoped," his eyes crinkled. It had nothing to do with price, it never was. He was just so insufferably picky.

She called him out, and he didn't even deny it. "It's not the word, but how you say it," he eyed her, squinting. As if she did it on purpose, and not at all that he imagined her saying it more teasingly, more deviously. "Right," he chuckled, at the mention of the wife. Then he frowned dramatically. "How dare you leave me to starve," he groaned, head tipping back, as if she was being a poor wife. Though there was a low growl, a light and small click of teeth toward her fingers as if he was rabid before he was moving along.

"Mn... ramen. Ramen sounds delectable. If they aren't authentic," he looked over his shoulder at her, narrowing his eyes. As if there would be hell to pay, but not by Kami. She may simply be a witness.

Well on his way to the couch, he'd bent to set his tea on the coffee table when he looked at her. Straightening slowly to the whirlwind of chatter and movement, he snickered with a roll of eyes that contrasted with the affectionate smile. Yes, he'd definitely missed the Hurricane Kami. "Forgot my present..." He poked his bottom lip out, faux-sniffling before he was nudging the snoozing Dozer aside so he could sink into the cushion. Naturally, there was grumbling for it from the hound. "Don't you get that tone with me... it's my couch, too," he huffed, settling back onto the couch and his eyes turned - and were glued expectantly - to the door. He rather liked to see what Kami came up with for presents... and anticipation was evident in the bouncing of a jean clad knee.

"Hey, I came as fast as I could," Kami shot back at him playfully. "I don't love being away from you, either. Maybe we go check some things out tomorrow if the weather's nice." She was talking over her shoulder as she walked towards the door, her fingers curling over the knob in anticipation of opening it. Before she did, she turned her face back towards him, catching him in the act of dramatic pouting. "I did forget your present. I forgot that the bellman had it." With a fake huff and an affectionate roll of her eyes, she finally pulled the door open to greet the bellman.

"Hi, M-mrs. Kelly, your packages..." The man stammered, refusing to meet her eye as he stood in the doorway. He was laden with high quality garment bags made of soft canvas, the kind that were used to protect new clothes that had been purchased. There were a couple of smaller bags as well that were hanging by their twisted rattan handles from his wrists. "Come in, come in," she said, stepping back and gesturing him towards the bedroom.

"If you could take them through to the bedroom and hang them in the closet there, please." The man hesitated in the doorway, his gaze shifting from her to the shirtless man on the couch and back, as though looking for confirmation that it was safe to enter. Kami stood, one hand planted on her hip between two of the three draped straps of her belt harness thing, waiting. Seeming to come to a conclusion, he nodded. "Uh...yes... yes ma'am." Shuffling into motion towards the bedroom like he half expected someone to jump out of it at him, the Asian woman followed in his wake to make sure he hung things up correctly.

Yes. That's totally why she was following him.

"Well... you weren't gone that long..." He squinted. ... She could've been gone for years, and it would be ten minutes to him. Time was such a fickle thing when you've lived so much of it. He relaxed against the cushions as she went for the door, and almost sing song, he gestured to her with his tea cup. "You missed me~" He purred, as if he couldn't hear enough of the words. There was a glint of knowing, if not mischief in his eyes, when she mentioned going out to look tomorrow. "Certainly," he agreed with no hesitation. After all, apart from keeping his eyes open, the only thing having stopped him from looking thus far, was Kami not being there. Besides the tediousness of looking alone, it only seemed right that she had a say where she was going to be living, too. "Mhm, sure you did," he sniffled once, lifting the tea to his lips for a slow slurp. Wounded. Playfully, of course.

His eyes trailed to the door when it was opened, to the stammering bellman greeting his not-wife wife. His head tilted to peer around her, his eyes trained on the bags looping over the bellman's arms. He squinted, sporting a look of either uncertainty or curiosity. Perhaps a mixture of both. His eyes scoured the bellman, brows ticking expectantly at the look given to him when the man seemed skeptical of Kami's words. His teacup lowered, chin lifted, as he blinked. "Are you waiting for a written invitation, lad?"

There was no doubt the devil enjoyed watching the bellman tremble, even as he casually sipped his tea and pet the slothful English bulldog at his side. His eyes didn't leave him until he made his way into the bedroom, at which point those dark peepers shifted to Kami with a wretched smirk and wink. "Try not to terrorize him too much, dear..." He jested. Out of consideration for the poor bellman? Hardly. "I'll feed him to the garbage disposal if he pees on the floor." He frowned, covering the movement of his mouth with the rim of the teacup.

"--Wasn't I? Felt like it. Maybe I should be gone longer next time..." The playful retort came with an extremely mature poking out of her tongue over her shoulder. Ten years might feel like ten minutes to him most of the time, but Kami had a feeling his sense of its passage would change dramatically if she was actually gone for more than a month or two. "F'course I missed you, weirdo. Don't act like you didn't miss me too."

She blew him a kiss just as she opened the door.

Grinning to herself when Ace put the bellman straight, she gave him a shrug that said, well, you heard the man and gestured him once more towards the bedroom. Following him in that direction, she paused halfway in and halfway out, a full blown pout blooming on her face. "Whaaat? Man, you ruin all my fun," she huffed petulantly, shaking her head as though she was just completely oppressed and put upon. "Mm. Love it when you talk dirty, Dear," her voice chimed merrily as she disappeared into the bedroom.

"Yes you may!" She crowed proudly, catching the hem and quickly pulling the loose fabric up over her head to reveal the dinosaur painted on the reverse side. With the t-rex face mostly centered over her own face -- to be fair, the shirt fit her like a dress, so it was harder to gauge than it otherwise should have been -- Kami helpfully supplied her closest approximation of a t-rex roar. It sounded something like Simba in the Lion King's first attempts. "Raaaaaawr!" She cried, holding her hands up in little curled claws at chest height to represent the T-rex's tiny arms. "Get it now?" she wanted to know, her face still covered by the shirt.

His brows soared at her crowing, his head pulling back like she was suddenly a woman possessed - how ironic... Those dark eyes widened as she whipped that shirt up over her head, revealing the dinosaur hidden beneath like it was a parlor trick and he was the studious audience. Even if the t-rex face was a little off-kilter, his lips parted with the abrupt surprise of being caught off guard so simply by the reverse image of a t-rex on a tee shirt.

But it was that Simba roar that did him in, with those little 'Rex claws. He burst into a fit of chuckling that quaked through his shoulders and torso, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the delighted smile that seemed almost angelic on the devil's face. She asked if he got it... but still had the damn shirt over her face and he nodded, then considered she might not see it. "I get it," he rasped through a laugh before clearing his throat, reaching out to pull the shirt from her head, revealing her face to him. But also his broad grin to her. "I love it. And will surely flaunt my t-rex the next time we're out," he nodded, pursing his lips at the idea. "And then add it to the rest of my dinosaur memorabilia," he teased with a coy smirk.

Nonsense, Kami would have no idea how to act like a woman possessed.

His genuine laughter made her happier than practically anything, and the smile on his face when she could see again matched the ear to ear grin that greeted him. "Raaaaaaawr," she said again, curling one of her tiny t-rex claws at him. Giggling quietly, her eyes were soft as she shifted her weight towards him, her far hand catching the arm of the couch to lift herself slightly so she could smear a kiss on his cheek. "Good. I will hold you to that."

Settling comfortably back down into his lap, his favorite pet made no effort to take the shirt she'd so recently given him off, apparently content to wear it like a dress on top of her pajamas. She lifted the empty bag off the couch and let it flutter to the floor, shifting herself closer to him again so she could wind her arms around his chest, nuzzling immediately into his warmth. It was something like snuggling a heater, but then maybe that was the goal.

"There's other stuff in the bedroom, I'll show you later," she said, burrowing closer. "You should order us that ramen." There was a pause as she took in a deep breath and let it out slowly in a sigh of contentment. "Please."

He chuckled at her clawed roaring at him, his head stretching forward to catch the smear of a kiss on his cheek. That bestial rumble in the core of his chest bled through before he settled back, smirking to her words.

There seemed to be no objection when she decided to wear his present instead, but he was considerably comfortable remaining shirtless. After all, it wasn't the first nor the last of his shirts she'd temporarily pilfer from him. She adjusted her position, and he did the same when she'd wound herself around him. Squirming beneath her until his rear was closer to the edge of the couch, there was a more dramatic slope of his bent legs. His arm draped around her back, almost cocooning her into a pocket of his radiated warmth like a bowl of flesh and limbs. "... I still can't tell if you say things to deliberately make me think of the bedroom," he murmured in a soft grumble, but she easily redirected his thoughts at the mention of food. His lids lowered. "That does sound pleasing.." He agreed, and she said the Magic Word that had nothing to do with blood or black magic. "Fine," he sighed, lazily, then there was a diabolical little smirk on his lips. "...But I'm requesting the same Bellman to bring the food up," he muttered, before going through the motions of fighting his phone out of his pocket while also trying not to disturb the Lap Kami.

If anybody asked, she'd just say that she was making it better for him. What man didn't like seeing a girl in his shirt? And it would smell like her when he put it on. "Would it make a difference?" the question was mumbled into the warmth of his chest as he wrapped her up in his arm and she burrowed that much closer, making herself a nest of fire-heated, tattooed flesh. "Y'thinking about it anyway, aren't cha?" It had more to do with the Lust in him than anything about her, the way she phrased it, but there was that undeniable tension between them that never quite went away.

Food made an excellent distraction, though, and Kami smiled, heavy lidded, when he relented and agreed to order food for them. "Thaaaaaaank you!" she chirruped in a quiet singsong that dissolved into a snicker at his qualification. "Mmm. Well, you can if you want but I'll bet you a quarter that he went home for the day..." Her smile spread against his chest. "So ask 'em to have him come back."

Because what man didn't want to smell like a woman...? Though, admittedly, she did smell nice. "...No." He wrinkled his nose, answering honestly. Then she called him out further and he chuckled. "I'm me, of course I am." As if that was all the reason and explanation in the world. It kind of was... But the tension was unmistakable.

"Yes, yes. I spoil you, I know," he teased, letting out a grunt when he finally wrestled the device from his pocket. He'd pulled up the search to find the number, pausing to shift his eyes to her with a frown when she seemed to be against the idea. That frown turned into a delighted laughter when she made a suggestion, and he nodded. "Oh, that will do just perfectly..." He purred, turning his head to smudge lips over his forehead like a payment of affection, a reward, as he dialed the number.