<div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/3d/ca/a3/3dcaa335e8ade145b7fc757d5d6039fc.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Greggor Steppenwolfe<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Big old stuffy mansion<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Tennis shoes, jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket.  All expensive and designer.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Gilda, Becca, Hannah<br/><strong>Extra Information:</strong>Score!<br/><br/><em>See?  Alpha's a good thing to be.</em>In another scenario Gregg might have considered all of this to be too easy, maybe even a little bit cliche.  But it was a 'you had to be there' kind of moment, and these women?  He intended to be there.  Between Gilda and Hannah's urgings he just gave a smirk, and settled himself on the extra spot on the couch.  Settling in and getting comfortable meant rubbing hips with the blonde woman who was already sitting there.<br/><br/>There was something about Gilda that had Gregg eyeing her again.  He couldn't place it, but it was something both familiar and... appetizing.  It was like catching the scent of a favorite meal from the past, but not quite remembering the menu, just knowing your stomach was rumbling for it.  He wasn't<em>that </em>bad, to sleep around and not remember a girl, and she'd have said something.... Oh well.  He'd figure it out.  Maybe they just crossed paths at a party.  Too much booze?<br/><br/>Settling down, he looked up at Hannah and gestured to come on in.  "Cozy on up.  We'll do our best to make you comfy while we wait.  Well, as comfy as possible, under the circumstances."  He let the woman have her fun in settling in (which was his fun too, damn straight).  He opened his mouth to make a comment about the brownies when...<br/><br/>Beanie again.  He leaned back, arching to make his point heard. "What was that?  I couldn't hear you, being over here, popular and adored.  Try not to get a papercut on all your impressive detective work, hmm?"  He snickered, not even finding himself (too) angry over the barb.