<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/e/e9/Jeffrey-Dean-Morgan6.jpg/441px-Jeffrey-Dean-Morgan6.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Greg Eames<br/><strong>Time &amp; Location:</strong>Evening | St. Clair Residence<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open, observing Alex and Corbin, checking out Freja, Kate and Violet<br/><strong>Dressed:</strong>Leather bomber jacket, silk shirt, slacks, boots<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Arrival at the HOA meeting<br/><br/><hr/><br/>The flight in to John Wayne International was trouble-free--after all, he'd only been traveling over the Sierra Nevada from Arizona this time.  He did his own flying in his Cirrus SF50 (https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/2/26/Cirrus-jet-flight.jpg/800px-Cirrus-jet-flight.jpg), and this trip had been no outlier.  Still, the visit to one of the composite production facilities for his company had run over, and he'd had to make up time by flying a lot faster than he'd planned.  Ah, fuck it.  It was fun.  Besides, he'd made it in time for the HOA meeting, right?<br/><br/>He pulled up at his house, but parked in the large turnabout driveway.  He didn't have time to bring his bags in or see Shane, but he was virtually across the street from James St. Clair's place, anyway.  He saw a few more cars around the area, but placed them as visitors to the HOA meeting...not his own home's unexpected use as a party site.  For the most part, Greg trusted his son.  He'd been a young man once upon a time, and hadn't forgotten what he'd done back then, but shit--he was<em>right across the street</em>.  What could go wrong?<br/><br/>Cutting across the sidewalks and pavement, he made a beeline for the St. Clair residence, moving inside smoothly.  He nodded to several of his neighbors who he knew on an acquaintance level, picking his seat.  That was when he spotted Alex.<br/><br/><em>Ah</em>.  It was funny, the mixed emotions he got with her presence.  Of course, he knew she lived in the community.  His eyes traveled up and down her.  Still looked as good and as fuckable as ever.  All that damned yoga did it's job, apparently.  If only the zen shit worked in similar ways for her when she was around him.  Well, he was sure he and his actions had something to do with that, too.  Men would be men, after all.  At least, he would be.<br/><br/>He saw a younger man passing her a champagne flute, and he nodded to himself.<em>Having a little taste of a younger vintage, Alex?</em>he wondered, as he sat down, straightening his jacket and crossing his left ankle over his right leg.  They were long over and done, and he had no jealous thoughts...though he did recall, briefly, the handful of...<em>reunions</em>...they'd had over the years.  While he would never call them<em>friends with benefits</em>--because the word<em>friend </em>could never apply to he and Alex--there had been some small measure of<em>benefits</em>here and there.  Consideration and respect?  Nah.  Animal lust?  Sure.  It gave him no small measure of satisfaction, regardless of the time that passed between those rare moments, that--sooner or later--he'd find Alex back under him again.  Or up against a wall.  Or in a jacuzzi...<br/><br/>He grinned.  Maybe she'd finally reached her tenth level of nirvana or something, and could resist it this time.  Resist<em>him</em>.  He scoffed quietly to himself.  He doubted it, and he could bet that she probably hated him for it, too.  In the meantime, he eschewed anything to drink, and bided his time enjoying the curves of two blondes, an older and a younger one, while he waited for the meeting to begin.  As his eyes worked over first one woman, then the other, a third woman drew his meandering attention.  Dressed rather retro, he appreciated her apparent taste in clothing and hairstyle.  He couldn't knock a girl for rocking something from another era, and she had the body for it, too.<em>Hm</em>, he considered.<em>Maybe I need to spend some more time in the community.  Seems to be decent pickings here now...</em>