When Fisk said whet Victor's eyes fell to the other man's lips. He couldn't help the association, even if he knew logically that Fisk hadn't said wet in that sense of the word. Victor ran his tongue against the inside edge of his own lower lip, just shy of visibly licking them. If he was trying to play things cool, he was doing a horrid job of it. Even in the dimly lit cellar, Victor was sure Fisk could read his interest on his face as plain as day.
"It's difficult to say," he said through a mouth that had gone a little dry. "I'm having trouble reading any of the signs down here. What do you think?"
If pressed on his word choice of reading the signs he could claim it was a slip of the tongue and he'd meant to say labels, but of course he wasn't talking about the wine, and neither (hopefully, at any rate) was Fisk.
"It's difficult to say," he said through a mouth that had gone a little dry. "I'm having trouble reading any of the signs down here. What do you think?"
If pressed on his word choice of reading the signs he could claim it was a slip of the tongue and he'd meant to say labels, but of course he wasn't talking about the wine, and neither (hopefully, at any rate) was Fisk.
Fabulous set by Lady!