Oz could not pretend his word choice had been accidental; as a not-quite-reformed rake flirting was the most natural way for him to converse with attractive women. Still, he was surprised that she'd taken the bait so readily. Pure physicality and eroticism certainly wasn't a phrase that was pulling any punches. He was anything but an innocent, but he also wasn't used to discussing things of this nature so openly. This was hardly the sort of conversation that one might have over the table at a dinner party or with one's partner on the dance floor at a ball. There were probably society women who would faint from shock before even making it through her second sentence, were they to overhear. Despite her openness on a normally taboo subject, however, she had managed to deftly avoid being crass. The way she described it was graceful, elegant — one might even say poetic. Oz wouldn't, but one might.

He hadn't been looking for anything or anyone tonight, but his interest was decidedly piqued.

"An experience 'words could never capture' is akin to blasphemy in my family," he joked lightly. "I was raised by poets. But how could I turn down a performance? And I must admit, you've intrigued me."

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