you're a bad-hearted boy-trap, babydoll, but you're so damn hot.

[princesscupcake]

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[lefthandedgenius]

When he'd given her that speech, she'd laughed and told him the same thing she'd told Allison: she wasn't looking for a boyfriend, she was looking for a distraction.

Aiden is, when all is said and done, a monster, Jackson is gone, and Stiles, is well, Stiles. Lydia had it up to her neck with the lot of them, but then Peter Rumancek had shown up with that sexy scruff and the smart alec retorts. With those eyes, and god, his fingers...

Which makes what she has planned for him on a Friday evening that more exciting a prospect. She has to make sure she doesn't open the door to quickly, but once it's open and she leans in the doorway, arms crossed, it's hard to keep her pulse from picking up. It's not her heart. It's something lower.

"French tutoring again?" she asks casually. Lydia doesn't take French.

[velveteenwolf]

It had made it easier, easier to fall into this, when she'd laughed him off. After everything that had happened, he's not sure he could have handled anything that even scented like romance. This is easier, the sexuality, touch, sensation, the feeling. Although he'd be a liar if he said she was just a distraction; he can't even play by his own rules.

"Well, if you're not busy." There's a smirk on his lips, a glint in his blue eyes. He doesn't take French either, which makes the ruse that much more amusing. Traveler that he is, he knows just about enough of any given language to get himself into trouble. "Je voudrais que vous."

It's a painfully simplistic construction of I want you, not as if that's in any doubt. But he says it in French, maybe showing off a little. It fits the roguish smile, and he lets his gaze slide over her, heated already with anticipation. He takes a step in, so he's in her space.

"You going to invite me in?"

[lefthandedgenius]

She can't help but roll her eyes at him, and offers no invitation.

Instead, she hooks two fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tugs him inside, and more to the point, against her so she can kiss him.

[velveteenwolf]

Peter doesn't protest, not even a little. He lets her hands grab hold of his jeans and melts against her lips as she pulls him in and kisses him. His hands go over her shoulders, curling fingers in the bright coppery strawberry of her hair. He's eager, and she's warm against him. He's not even particularly surprised; Lydia is never exactly the patient type, and he likes that about her. She takes what she wants, but never in a way that has him feeling trapped. It makes it too easy to fall into touch again and again.

His fingers drag against the back of her neck, up to curl against the back of her skull, letting their lips meet. She's gorgeous and out of his league and it makes moments like this feel like he's stealing.