by Amara Kent
“I feel an apology coming on,” he says.
“How’d you know?” I ask.
“Because people only bring you your favorite things to butter you up. And there are only two reasons someone would do that. One”—he lifts a finger—“they want something. And two”—he lifts a second finger—“They want to apologize for something they think, or know, they’ve done wrong.” I lift the lid on his sushi and slide the two trays over. “As much as I appreciate you bringing me lunch, there’s no need to apologize.”
“Yes, there is. I acted cruelly toward you.”
“Yes, you did.” He plops a sashimi roll in his mouth. “But I understand why, now. A woman who has been through what you have is allowed to come to such strong conclusions. Don’t ever apologize for ever having been through something.”
“Do you not like accepting apologies?” I enquire.
“Yes, when they’re justified.”
“This one is. I should never have projected my past onto you. It wasn’t fair. You tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen. I just assumed you were like all the others.”
“I know. It’s okay. Truly.”
“Ren,” I warn.
“Kerri,” he returns.
“Will you just accept the damn apology?” I snap.
“What apology?” he says with a smirk. I roll my eyes. “Is that what you call an apology? You don’t like giving apologies, do you?” he asks mockingly.
“Ren,” I say softer.
“I know. I forgive you, Kerri.”
“Thank you.”
“So how’s the shooting going?” Ren asks.
I pick up the chopsticks, pick up a dumpling and dip it in soy sauce, before plopping it in my mouth. “Good. We have just over a month to go until we’re done.”
“I’m glad. I’m excited to watch it.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You are? I can’t picture someone like you wanting to watch a matchmaking show.”
He shrugs. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Miss Bradford.”
“Oh, I bet there is.”
“Have dinner with me,” he says.
I let out a short, nervous laugh. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ren.”
“It’s just dinner. I’m not asking you to marry me.” He frowns.
“I know, but it would only complicate things,” I mumble.
“What things? It would just be two friends having dinner together.”
“We know what dinner could lead us to.”
“It doesn’t have to.” He sucks the sauce off the chopsticks, and I sit there wondering how I can magically become those chopsticks.
Oh, calm the fuck down, hormones. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I shouldn’t need to be intimate with him, or anyone. Is it normal to have these kinds of reactions so soon after a bad one? Surely there’s some appropriate timeframe. Don’t lie to yourself. We both know that’s not how you function.
“Kerri?” he asks.
“Why do you want to have dinner with me?” I ask.
“Because even though our relationship has been strictly sexual and rocky, it doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy your company. You’ll be leaving in just over a month, and I would hate to pass on an opportunity to see you before you leave.”
“I’ll think about it,” I respond.
“It’s all I ask.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ren
Kerri ended up saying yes to my dinner proposal. It wasn’t right away, and she let me sweat on it, but a couple of weeks later, she messaged me, agreeing to dinner. And in a way I can’t seem to understand, I want to make the dinner special for her. I want to be able to remove any fears she has, just for a night. No, I’m not thinking we will get down and dirty, writhing around in each other’s arms in the heated act of sex. It’s just a night to spend with her before she leaves Japan for good and a way for me to get to spend some time getting to really know her. Aiya says it’s because I like her, but Aiya sees romance in everything; even when there isn’t any. Things have been good between us. Seeing her be bold and come out to her parents seemed to diminish the anger I had toward her. She still hasn’t spoken to them, which is beyond ridiculous. My parents have become the mediators, trying to convince them to see sense. They won’t change, and it’s disappointing to know that people I always looked up to and valued as being kind, are anything but.
Aiya peers at my computer screen. “Rooftop restaurant?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s a bit cold for that, isn’t it?” she asks.
“We’ll have heating and blankets. More importantly, we’ll have alcohol.”
“Do you think she’ll like it? It’s rather romantic, isn’t it?”
“I’m not sure. It’s why I want to speak to Taylor.” I pick up my phone and dial her number.
“Hi, Ren,” she chirps down the phone.
“Hello, Taylor. How are you?” I ask.
“Good, good. I’m all alone,” she announces.
“Um. Thank you?”
She sighs. “As much as we like each other as friends, I doubt you’re making a social call to speak to me. You’re obviously calling to talk about Kerri.”
“Where is she?”
Kerri told me that since the day in the alley, Taylor has been glued to her. I’m rather surprised she let her out of her sight.
“She’s just gone down to the convenience store.”
“What? You let her out of your sight? Are you crazy?” I mock.
“Oh my God, you’re just like her. You need to move to America, so you can be with her. It’s insane how perfect you are for each other.”
“As lovely as that is to hear, it’s not possible, you know that. My work is here.”
“Whatever you say, Ren.”
“Anyway, I’m calling to ask for some advice.”
“Shoot.”
“I have a night planned for Kerri and me, but I’m not sure if she’ll like it,” I start.
“Go on,” she presses when a minute goes by.
“Well, I was thinking of dinner on a rooftop.”
There’s a pause. “That’s rather romantic of you,” she states eventually.
“That’s what I said!” Aiya pipes up next to me.
“Hi, Aiya!” Taylor practically shouts down the phone.
“She can hear you just fine, Taylor. No need to shout.”
“Sorry. She’s right. It is rather romantic, and it’s still cold. Unless you’re thinking something else will happen. Do ya? Do ya?” she teases.
“I have no expectations, no.”
“You know what. Do it. Kerri is like a peanut M&M. She’s hard on the outside, hard on the inside, but there’s this section of softness. That’s where the romantic side of her lies. She’s going to love it.”
“This isn’t meant to be a romantic dinner.” I frown.
“Well, you kind of made it one.”
“I just want to give her an evening where she isn’t thinking about what happened for just one night.”
“And this will do it. Trust me. She’s going to love it,” Taylor chirps.
“Okay. I’ll book it. Don’t you dare tell her what I have planned,” I add.
“And ruin the romantic surprise? Never!”
I hang up the phone and look at the glowing and gleeful expression on Aiya’s face. I groan. “Don’t you start, Aiya.”
“What?” Her voice raises high with guilt.
“This is isn’t a romantic gesture. It’s based on friendship,” I reiterate.
“You are so going to get laid, my friend.”
“Holy shit.” She breathes out when we reach the rooftop.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” I ask.
“Not exactly the word I would use.”
“Come. There’s a better view.” I take her hand and lead her to where a massive tent has been set up. Inside is a table, some cushions for seating and a lounge. It’s part of their glamping package. There’s usually a bed i
nside. I was able to book out the entire rooftop for the night. It’s nice having connections. It’s even better that a lot of people talk money. I threw them double the amount this space costs for a night and then some. They were very happy to accommodate my request.
I love this place, and whenever we have international corporate people come to Tokyo, I always recommend a place just like this. This place is my favorite, but due to its ever-growing popularity, it can be hard to book.
One of the main things that makes this place better than the rest is the view. It has the most spectacular view of Tokyo. During the day, it’s not as impressive, but at night, with the twinkling lights of the buildings and the reflection of them on the river, it’s a sight to behold.
A rush of air leaves her as she takes in the view. “You weren’t kidding. This is incredible, Ren.”
“I know. I come here as often as I can because of the view right here. There’s none quite like it in Tokyo.”
“One would think you were trying to propose. Are you, Ren?” she asks with a teasing smirk.
My face falls. “I demand that you stop being friends with Taylor and Aiya immediately.”
She guffaws. “They may have pushed their romantic agenda on me. Tay’s still in the beautiful hazy cloud of fresh wedding bliss. What’s Aiya’s excuse?”
“She’s just a hopeless romantic.”
“They seem to have this outlandish expectation of our relationship.” She shakes her head. “They really need to calm their tits.”
I burst out laughing at this outrageous saying. “What?”
“Calm their tits. It means that they need to calm down and stop being so overdramatic and quit overreacting.”
I shake my head. “I never would have figured.”
A waiter walks over with a tray holding two champagne glasses. I take them and pass one to Kerri, holding it up. “Kanpai.” (Cheers)
I watch as she takes a sip of her glass. The way her lips perfectly mold to it. My dick twitches in appreciation, and I wonder how I’m going to get through the night with her looking as sexually appetizing as she does. Her hair is out and free. Beautiful natural waves fall in line with her ample and perky breasts, being enhanced by the push-up bra she’s wearing. She did this to torture me. It has her specialty brand of seduction written all over it. A single drop pearl pendant sits nicely between her breasts, drawing more attention to them. Burgundy colored lips match perfectly with the natural way she applied her makeup. Something I appreciate and love on a woman. The dress she’s wearing does nothing to hide her delectable curves, and I find my cock thickening as my eyes hungrily slide down her body.
“Already, Ren?” She shakes her head in mock disgust.
“Don’t you dare tell me you’re dressed the way you are because you wanted to feel beautiful about yourself. You don’t lack in the self-confidence,” I growl out, low and husky.
She steps to me, presses her breasts against my chest. Her hand finds my leg, and she runs it up until she lands on my now full erection. A shaky breath leaves me and I allow my head to fall back as I close my eyes. She’s the fucking devil, I’m sure of it. The way she entices me without meaning to is the worst torture of them all. When she does mean it, she’s out for the kill, and there is no turning back when she takes aim and fires.
Her lips land on mine. I’m stunned silent because being this way with her was the furthest from my mind. I won’t deny that some part of me hoped it would end up this way, but I never expected it to. I just wanted to be there for her as a friend. As platonic as it could be. After admiring the view, we had dinner, before settling down for some drinks. Stupid really, because there is no such thing as platonic when it comes to her. She stops, pulling away from me. Soulful emerald eyes bore into me, and I can’t believe I’m stopping what could lead to me being inside of her, but I do. I don’t want her to do this because I’ve gone all out to make her feel something other than her past. I want us to have sex because she wants to.
That’s it. You can officially call me a little bitch.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, trying to hide the hurt in her voice.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask solemnly.
“Yes.”
“Because I wouldn’t want to push you into—”
“Ren, damaru.” (shut up.)
To hear such conviction spill from her lips does something to me. The yearning coating them with her eyes alight with fire is all I need to throw away any concerns I have and let her take me. There will be no back and forth with dominance like the first time we had sex. No. I want to show her that she has the means to grab a tight hold of that proverbial whip and push me into submission.
Her soft lips land on mine once more, and I relish in the feel of them. The way she tastes and the skill in which she kisses me. Her tongue flicks out lightly, tickling my lip, forcing a moan from me. She slides her tongue into my mouth and instantly connects with my own. It’s soft and delicate at first, but quickly finds a desperate pace as she climbs on top of me. Her hands move through my hair, gripping it hard at the base and pulling my head back to meet her hooded eyes. We remain this way; a silent discussion of commands and understanding. She can take all she wants from me. I’m happy to pull back the beast that lies inside, pulling at the chain to ravish her. To take her and make her believe that her past is not what defines her. That she can be treated with the respect a queen such as herself deserves to be treated.
With a piercing stare, she slowly grinds against my hardness, making it painful as it strains against my pants. Feather-light touches travel down both arms, causing a shiver to run violently through me. A knowing smirk kinks up on her lips.
“What do you want to do to me?” she whispers seductively. Surprising me.
“What?” I mumble.
“Tell me what you want to do to me,” she orders softly.
“I want to fuck you with my fingers and grip your clit firmly with my mouth, making you come all over them.”
“And then?”
“And then I want to take my hard cock and stick it deep inside your hot, wet pussy, thrusting in and out of you until there’s no sense left in the world.” I breathe out. She grinds deeper into me. My head falls back on the headrest of the lounge.
“And then?” she urges.
“And just when you feel as if you’ve had enough. I want to come in here.” I move my finger to the crack of her ass.
“Tell me how much you want me,” she whispers. Her head drops back as she grinds deeply into me once more.
“I want you to strip for me.” I breathe out.
“Whatever you say.”
She gets off my lap and stands up, moving to her handbag and pulling out her phone. Flicking through it, she taps the screen and a song plays. She moves back in front of me, just enough so if I leaned forward to grab her, she’d be too far away. Swaying her hips to the song slowly, her hands travel up her body, past her breasts and up her face, lifting her hair in the process. A low rumble vibrates at seeing her like this. So sexual. So fucking ready. With hooded eyes, I watch as she holds her hair up with her right hand while allowing her left to sensually travel back down her face, her pinky finger catching the corner of her bottom lip slightly.
She flips her hair back, lowering herself slowly to the ground while simultaneously guiding her hand to land on the most prized possession. Her pussy. With the grace of a professional dancer, she stands back up on heels so high, I can’t figure out how she’s remaining stable on them. My tongue flicks out to lick my bottom lip. This is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve had women dance for me. I’ve had women strip for me. I’ve had women do both, but none of those times could ever compete with the one I’m watching right now. The expression on her face and the way she knows how to work me to an aching degree has me undone.
Slowly spinning around on her ankle-breaking heels, she lifts her hair with one hand, while clasping the zipper and slowly pulling it down, swinging her hips in
time to the music. Her dress falls to the ground with a light thump, and she gingerly steps out of the pool of fabric. The white thong she is wearing is beautifully contrasted with her suntanned skin. She turns back around to face me as she clasps her breasts and squeezes, throwing me a sexy look and biting her bottom lip.
Perfection is a stupid concept, but if I were to choose perfection, she would be it. You would never be able to tell how broken this woman was. How much she’s been through. She’s reclaiming her strength, both sexually and mentally. The way she commands it is delicious. If only I could taste it forever.
I watch in awe as she sashays over and straddles me once more, grinding against me, making me harder, something I didn’t think was scientifically possible. She leans back, giving me the most perfect view of her panty-clad pussy. Unable to help myself, I hold her with one hand, allowing my other to rove up her thigh, grazing over her pussy, causing her skin to twitch from being touched. I continue my travels up her flat and taut stomach, to the valley of her breasts. She slowly lifts herself, before snapping upright when she’s balanced. Her head inches from my own. Curly hair framing her face beautifully. Planting a light kiss on my forehead, she turns around, slowly removing her panties, looking back at me with a wink. Standing back up, she saunters over to her bag, bending over once more, giving me an excellent view of her plump ass. I fight the urge to charge over there and drive my dick into her hot tightness. My nails dig into my palms, stinging.
My mouth falls open when I see a vibrator in her hand, along with a remote. With a wicked grin on her face, she positions herself on the padded sun lounger. Her pussy, bare and ready for me to take it. I go to move, but she wiggles a finger at me.
With a grunt, I lean back and watch with the restraint of a fucking saint, as she inserts the thicker end of the vibrator into herself, while placing the smaller flat end onto her clit. It’s killing me to see her get off without me, but this is what I wanted. This is exactly what she needs. Her head falls back and her mouth opens just a crack. Kerri looks so damn sexy lying there, getting herself off. Her breathing picks up, becoming labored, and I can’t help myself. I need to ease this fucking ache I have to come. Unbuckling my belt, I yank it off and unzip my pants, pulling out my rock-hard cock and stroking it. Little whimpers hit me, and I pick up the pace when she lifts her head. Forehead scrunched up and eyes filled with arousal. It’s as if she’s begging me to go to her.