The knife to his throat, while he supposed was meant to be threatening, only made his desire for her grow stronger. She was feisty and unpredictable and he was here for all of it. Despite what she might think, he enjoyed these sorts of women far better. They kept his on his toes. They drew out of him the darker side of his desires. He often got vanilla, which was fine from time to time. But a woman like the one before him? It was a rarity and when he managed to fuck them, it renewed his interest in women (or men...depending on who his partner was).

After pulling away from the bite on his lip, he can only give her a crocked smile. He liked it. He craved it. It made his pants a little tighter. But despite what Boone might appear to her, he was not always easy. He often played with his "food" (his food being the deliciousness that was nestled between her thighs). So despite just how much she turned him on, he knew the chase would be far more pleasurable. And so, he did not engage her further. He left himself only wanting more. It was his own personal way of edging.

He turns from her, fully intending to leave her there. Whether or not she wanted to continue what they had started didn't matter to me. He was going to get another drink. He planned to get another to bring him to the brink of desire then leave her too. Perhaps he would do this a few times before he finally found someone to go home with. He would get laid tonight...the question was really to whom.

He's not but a step or two away before he feels her pulling at his jacket. It forces him to turn to her. He's not sure what he was expecting when he did so, but it was certainly not the sudden illumination of the alleyway with the lights of the good men in blue. She seemed so intent to surrender, the way the knife was slid into her pocket and her hands then went up. Unlike her, he remains standing tall and firm. His hands remain at his side.

She then mutters something about having a little fun and then she's off. He takes off after her. It was a fools move from the police to not surround them. They had a free place to run and run they did. He can ear the curses from the police behind them. He can hear them call for backup and a K9 unit. And then, he hears the sound of footsteps behind them.

Boone was far too drunk to be running. It was an amazing feet that he was still running and not having already face planted into the concrete. But a miracle was taking place because he was still running and somehow, catching up to her.

They continue down the street, the footsteps behind them gaining ground. But what causes Boone to reconsider their actions is the appearance of more police just in front of them. He can hear the shouting as they all exit their vehicles. And then he ears it, the distinct barking of a dog trained to take them down. "Turn right at the next alley...and take my hand." She could choose to take his hand and turn down the next alley, or she could be chased down by a dog that would shred her to pieces. Boone removes his jacket and holds it firmly in his hand. Wings began to expand from their hiding place and as he makes the right turn, he extends his free hand to her as his wings begin to flap and flutter. His feet began to lift from the ground as he began to slowly gain in altitude. He was going to fly himself out of this scenario and she could choose to join him or stay behind. One thing was certain, he was not going to be dog food today.