The Devil Loves In Prada.- Peryl

Gloria

"Quite calm. Just a meeting with our next special guest for the upcoming cover. And a quick look into the new line that will be displayed , too. How about yours?"

Brando chewed and swallowed the food that currently resided in his mouth before washing it down with a sip of wine.

"Calm, too, I'm glad to say. Just a few calls. Two meetings and a game I got to see in the office."

"Game?"

"Yeah. Soccer, you know."

"I do. But wasting two hours of my existence watching men chase over a ball is not the pass time for me. Maybe more like opera or classical music."

Brando laughed vividly while Miranda looked at him confused to his sudden outburst.

"Why are you laughing?" She asked, finishing the rest of her wine. She reached out for the bottle before Brando sweeped it away.

"I know in my gut that Miranda Priestly doesn't find listening or watching opera as the most accurate pass time. Come on, be honest, what is a pass time that no one knows, I won't tell, I swear?" Brando refilled her glass waiting with a
tempting smile.

"I never said it was the best. I simply stated that I would prefer it to watching a game where the men run around chasing a ball, as if they head had been cut off."

Brando grinned.

"Okay. Pardon for my misinterpretation. What is the perfect hobby, Miranda?"

"Falconing." She simply said.

He did not expect that. She seemed such an indoor kind of woman. The kind that liked to keep her hands clean.

"Really? I did not see that coming. I assumed it was something a little less outdoorsy."

She sipped her wine. He could see the smile that she had tried to hide.
"Don't assume anything on me. And yes falconing, my father practiced it actually, he was great at it. And it was very peaceful to be with him when he did it."

"That's one more thing I know about you."

They smiled at each other.

There was so many things left to learn about about each other. Like how her mother had left her and her sister since very young. And all she had was her father, who had sadly passed away 10 years ago. And a sister who she hadn't spoken with since their father's passing.

Or how Brando had always wanted a beautiful daughter. One he knew he would name Dahlia. His mother's favorite.

She had a bittersweet smile after talking about her father, he noticed. He gawked at her beautiful features. The brown eyeshadow eyeliner that made her eyes appear catlike or the mascara that elongated her natural ones.

"I would like to see you once, only once without Prada, or Gucci. Your face completely bare."

"That's not happening." She laughed sharply. As if he had said a piercing remark.

"Why? You are a very gorgeous woman. All that Prada and makeup crap just takes your natural glow away."

She gulped the rest of her wine before refilling it. That would mark her third, she was pretty sure she was a little more than just tipsy by now.

Miranda ignored his remark and looked over at the record player. Watching it go in circles over and over.

"Dance with me." She said almost a whisper.

He noticed her avoidment to what he had said: but didn't mind.

"Sure,come on pretty lady." He stood up pushing his plate back and extending his arm out.

Miranda smiled almost nonexistently and took his hand. With the other holding on to her glass of wine.

If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day
'Til eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you

They walked together hand in hand to the center of his living room. They turned to look at each other. Slowly and steadily wrapping their arms around each other.

His arm on her waist and one of hers on his neck. The other of her arms still holding onto a wine glass.

If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then
Again, I would spend them with you

But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with

He moved his feet in synch with hers. His arms gripping tightly onto her waist. She stuck her face in his neck still holding on to him. She would occasionally sip the red, pungent liquid.

I

f I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty
Except for the memory
Of how they were answered by you

She finished the wine in her glass and slowly put it down in the coffee table next to them. Not having her both arms available she held on to hin with more longing that before. More desire.

Miranda started putting soft And delicate kisses on his neck. His arms around her waist loosened. His hands going up her body, to hold her face. Her lips left his neck and soon connected with his.

It was slow and loving kiss: slowly started turning into a hungry one. She backed him up to the sofa. He quickly fell back. For a moment she stood in front of him: with heavy breathing and her lips red from his biting.

It was an image that many men would ache to have and he felt so fortunate to be the one.

Kicking her shoes off she went on to straddle his waist. Her hips occassionally meeting his in a pleasurable synchrony.

"Mira-Miranda."

She seemed not to hear and kept on moving down. Her hands meeting his shirts buttons. Slowly opening one by one. His hands pushing her skirt up until he was met with the pale skin from her tights.

He took her face and kissed her again. Harder this time.

"Mmmm." She moaned softly.

He stopped her hips from rolling and stopped his kissing.

"Miranda, you are a beautiful woman...but I can't sleep with you."

Her heart dropped at his words.

.....
TBC