Under a Silver Moon

by Barbara Sheridan

  “You taste divine, kimi, and I want more.”

  Chapter Nine

  He tugged her robe until she was close enough to kiss. Kim’s practical side ordered her to stop this madness, but her lonely heart and body took control. She sat on the edge of the bed and melted into Imai’s firm embrace. He broke the kiss for a moment and peered so deeply into her eyes that she was certain he was claiming her very soul.

  He smiled when she reached up to caress his cheek, and he drew her nearer when she slid her fingers through his hair. He slowly lay back, pulling her with him, and she didn’t hesitate to shift so that she was lying beside him. Kim found herself moaning into Imai’s mouth when he caressed her backside through the thin robe. Heat rushed through her, making her silk thong even wetter.

  She hadn’t ever wanted anyone as much as she wanted Imai Shimizu right now, but this wasn’t right for so many reasons. She broke the leisurely kiss, but didn’t pull too far away. “I’m not ‑‑ I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”

  Imai brushed his finger across her lower lip. “Have no fear, kimi, I practice safe sex.”

  “It’s not just that ‑‑”

  He touched his finger to her lips to silence her. “I don’t coerce or force anyone to do anything they aren’t willing to.”

  “I didn’t mean ‑‑”

  He touched her lips again. “Small intimacies can be just as satisfying as major ones.” He punctuated his words by tugging at the thin sash holding her robe closed before pulling her in for another slow kiss.

  His lips were so soft, so insistent, his tongue so masterful and experienced that Kim felt as if this were the first time she’d been truly kissed. She squirmed, pressing her thighs together as her blood began to pool in her genitals and a gentle throbbing started deep inside. She shivered when Imai slid his hand between her legs and stroked the damp silk of the thong, pushing his fingers against it so the fabric slipped inside enough to soak through.

  “Have you always gotten this wet?”

  “No.”

  His wicked grin hit her hard in both good and bad ways, but she didn’t pull back. Kim heard the faint echo of her friend Rita’s frequent lecture on how she needed to stop setting a “good example” for Mandy and get laid for the sake of getting laid some time.

  “Take off the robe,” Imai said.

  Run for the door! Don’t do this! You’re not some stick-figure model. He won’t want you.

  “I should go,” she said, hoping he couldn’t sense her fears.

  “I won’t stop you, but…” He paused and sat up from the mound of pillows. “I want you to stay with me tonight, if only for a while.”

  The last of Kim’s resolve lingered on the verge of disintegrating. She looked away from his gaze and closed her eyes when she felt his fingers gently stroke her cheek.

  “Please,” Imai breathed. “Just for your company, if nothing more.”

  Kim rose and let the robe slip from her shoulders, praying she wouldn’t see any flicker of distaste in his eyes. When he smiled and held out his hand she climbed onto the bed and stretched out beside him, drawn to the heat of his body and his silky caresses. His fingers moved through her hair and across her shoulders as Kim’s body turned toward him of its own accord.

  She sat up, and he gave her a quizzical look. “You look uncomfortable.” Unable to turn on his side because of the cast, Imai was propped up on one elbow so he could twist at his mid-section to better face her. Taking two of the pillows that had been beneath her head, Kim stacked them by his leg so that he could turn more and rest the cast on them.

  Imai grinned and with a crook of his finger beckoned her to come closer. “Such diligent nursing deserves a kiss of gratitude, I think.”

  Kim smiled and melted into his embrace once more. She stretched out beside him again, savoring the feel of his lips and tongue, teasing him with her own, loving the way his kiss heated her blood and made her tingle all over. She slid her fingers into his hair again and shivered when he breathed a sigh against her ear.

  She shivered again when Imai slid his hand between them and slowly undid the tiny hooks holding the bustier closed. He tugged the garment free and tossed it aside before turning his kisses to her throat. He kissed downward, his tongue flicking out now and again to tease her flushed skin. Kim arched into the caress of his mouth, a soft moan escaping her lips.

  “You taste wonderful,” Imai whispered between each kiss. He sat up and in a near whisper asked her to kneel beside him on the mattress.

  He kissed her abdomen, then traveled downward across her hot skin to the top band of the thong. Another uncontrolled whimper tumbled out of Kim as he slid his hands to her hips and pushed the thin straps of the thong down until Kim took the initiative and pulled the skimpy garment off.

  Imai grazed his lips over her hairless mound, and she let out a long moan. She was wet, throbbing, and ached to feel Imai’s touch directly. Her knees slid apart instinctively, and as if he could sense her desire, Imai dipped his head low. His tongue, thick and hot, grazed her sex in a long stroke she felt throughout her entire body. She cradled the back of his head and arched her back, lost in the slow pace he set.

  She quivered on the edge of coming and then he pulled away, that damn sexy smirk of his on his lips. She was breathing hard, her fingers still tangled in his hair. “Please don’t tease me this way.”

  “Never, kimi,” he whispered before planting a gentle kiss upon her thigh. He let his fingers pick up where his tongue had left off, his thumb brushing against her throbbing clit, his long fingers pushing inside. “Don’t hold back,” he told her.

  As if freed by his encouragement, Kim gave into her body’s need and moved her hips to complement his touch, riding his fingers faster and faster until the climax hit and she trembled all over, her sex dripping and spasming around his fingers as she came. He pulled his hand away when she slumped, still gripping his bare shoulders for support.

  She was breathing hard and looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes, her pale cheeks flushed, her eyes glittering, and her nipples erect and begging to be suckled anew. He was certain he could take this woman all night in every way imaginable and still not get enough of her. He wanted her badly. His balls were tight and aching, his cock rock hard and leaking enough precum to leave a sizable wet spot on his boxers. He asked her to lie down and when she did he pulled her back to his chest. Brushing her golden hair aside, he suckled her neck and shoulder, his hand tugging and stroking her hard nipples, then drifting down to touch her again until she came for him once more, the bucking of her hips and the press of her soft, generous rear against his cock sending him toward the edge as well.

  Imai continued stroking her with one hand, while he reached into his underwear to touch his own sex. God, how he longed to feel her tightness around him, her body rising and moving on top of him. Taking hold of his cock, he tugged himself in time with the steady rhythm he used on Kim.

  She leaned back into him, her rear pressing down on his stiff cock.

  With a loud moan, he spurted out into his fingers but continued stroking and squeezing his cock until he was spent.

  Wiping his hand on the rumpled bed linens, he kissed Kim on the shoulder and lay back against the pillows. He drew Kim down to lie on the bed beside him.

  Shifting to face him, Kim rested half on top of his body. She reached down to touch him and he gasped. He should have let her do it from the start. Suddenly her lovely blue eyes took on a pained look.

  “Didn’t you want me to do it?”

  He leaned in to brush his lips against hers in a feathery kiss. “I didn’t want to push you into anything.”

  The hurt was still there as she nodded and touched her fingers to his cheek. “I should go.”

  “Stay. Please. Sleep beside me.”

  Biting her lower lip as she considered it, she finally nodded and reached down to pull the covers over them, then lay her head on his chest and closed her eyes.

  Imai held her c
losely as her breathing gradually became slow and even with sleep. This woman was so unlike the others he’d had in this very same bed. Most were concerned with only one thing: getting a good fuck out of a rock star. Not that those wild sexual escapades hadn’t been pleasurable enough, but at the same time they’d meant nothing.

  There was no emotional connection, and certainly nothing even close to love.

  His eyelids getting heavy, Imai lazily ran his fingers through Kim’s hair. For as little as he’d managed to do with Kim tonight, he felt more content now than he ever had before. He kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek against her soft hair as he fell asleep.

  * * * * *

  A warm caress from a ray of sun creeping through the narrow break in the curtains brought Kim fully awake. She was disoriented at first to find herself being held, but as the filmy web of sleep dispersed she remembered where she was and what she’d done last night.

  Or rather what Imai Shimizu had done to her.

  She ran her hand lightly across his smooth chest, then gently lifted his arm from her shoulders. He stirred and turned a bit onto his left side. Kim rose up on one elbow and simply watched him. How could any man be so absolutely gorgeous, so incredibly sexy, even when asleep?

  Without thinking, she lightly kissed his bare shoulder. It would be so easy to just curl up with him again and stay here as long as possible, but that would be a mistake, wouldn’t it? He’d wake up and wonder why she was here. After all, last night was what it was and nothing more. Rita was right. She was a grown woman, and there was nothing wrong with having sex for the sake of sex. And it had been wonderful, even though they hadn’t really had intercourse.

  In fact he hadn’t even wanted her to touch him.

  That really explained it all, didn’t it?

  Kim moved out of the bed without making a sound. She slipped her robe on, not once looking at Imai’s sleeping form. Thinking about this anymore would only make things worse…Why pretend last night meant anything to a man who could have his pick of the loveliest women in the country?

  Closing the bedroom door behind her, Kim went downstairs. She avoided the kitchen where Mrs. Nimura was already preparing breakfast and hurried to the guesthouse, fighting to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

  Oh, well. It had been nice playing Cinderella for an evening, but now it was time to get back to work.

  Kim came back to the main house after showering and changing and grabbing a bowl of oatmeal. “Good morning,” she said brightly. “Is that for Imai-san?” she asked glancing at the tray Mrs. Nimura was holding.

  “It is. Would you like to take it to him?”

  “That’s what I’m here for,” she said, slinging the shoulder strap of the small briefcase she carried over her head. She shoved the bag a bit more toward her back then took the tray. “His secret is out, by the way. I know he can speak English beautifully.”

  The housekeeper breathed a small sigh of relief. “At least he came to his senses.”

  “Not really. He slipped and was caught.” Kim laughed it off and left the kitchen, letting her forced smile fall away the instant she stepped from the kitchen. The quiet strumming of a guitar greeted her as she began to climb the wide staircase, and she remembered the power of Imai’s voice last night as he’d sung that sexy ballad.

  Reaching the room, she balanced the tray on her hip then knocked lightly before entering. “Good morning. I think Nimura-san outdid herself; this smells wonderful.”

  “Why did you leave me?”

  Kim stopped halfway to the bed. “What?”

  “Why did you leave before I woke up?”

  “I didn’t want to disturb you,” she said, coming toward the bed and busying herself by situating the tray over his lap. “You had a busy day yesterday, and you needed your rest.”

  He grabbed her wrist and held on until she looked at him. “I will decide what I need, thank you.”

  He tugged her forward. She put her hand on his chest to keep the distance between them. “I brought the notes I made on the plane and some photographs to discuss the wardrobe and makeup for your solo tour.” He let her go and she pulled back. She removed the messenger bag from her shoulder and set it at the foot of the bed.

  “So it’s all back to business.”

  “That’s what you hired me for, Imai-san.”

  His reply was a long, cold stare.

  Kim cleared her throat. “I take it you don’t want to discuss the plans for your tour right now.” She tossed back her hair over her shoulders. “After breakfast, then. I think I’ll give my daughter a call in the meantime.”

  Imai watched her leave, part of his heart seeming to go along with her. Had he imagined everything he’d felt last night, or was it just that Kim didn’t share his feelings after all?

  For her, it was nothing more than sex. The same thing it should’ve meant to him, if only he’d had more sense. The idea was ridiculous, anyway. People don’t just fall in love.

  Suddenly not hungry, Imai shoved the tray away and started leafing through the notes Kim had left at the foot of the bed. Straight to business. That’s what mattered.

  Chapter Ten

  Usual stage image is dark and Goth perhaps something lighter or even less severe? Perhaps stick to a simple black and white palette? As little stage makeup as possible? Consider cutting the hair?

  Cut his hair? That was absurd! Imai threw the yellow pad down in disgust. The woman was clearly insane and totally incompetent for this job. This is what he got for listening to Ryuhei Nakamura. The man might very well be a legend in the Japanese music scene, but in terms of people skills he was obviously out of touch. Hell, the man was practically a hermit!

  Imai turned and began to rifle through the drawer of the nightstand for that damned letter Nakamura had sent him weeks ago. Finding it, Imai looked at it in disgust. This alone pointed out Nakamura’s own incompetence as any type of character judge. Why, the man wrote on vellum, for fuck’s sake, and in a florid old style of kanji that was hard as hell to decipher at times. How could someone who didn’t even seem to live in the same century as he did possibly know who was and who was not “the perfect assistant” for him?

  “Asshole,” Imai muttered, stuffing the letter back into the nightstand and slamming the drawer shut. The same to Toru and Koji, the two idiots who were responsible for getting his leg broken in the first place.

  He couldn’t do anything about his leg now, but he could do something about these ridiculous notes. Roughly piling Kim’s papers into a stack, he pulled himself out of the bed and managed to shrug into a robe without losing his balance. Muttering more curses on the bulky cast as he took a crutch with his free hand, he made his way out of the bedroom and started down the stairs.

  A few feet from the landing, Kim sat on the divan facing into the living room.

  “Notes, my ass,” Imai snapped, tossing the papers to the floor. “I think I’d do better to get advice from my housekeeper!”

  Imai’s shout caught Kim off guard, and she dropped her cell phone. “Mandy honey? I have to go. Mr. Shimizu needs me. Love you, ‘bye.”

  “No, I don’t need you! Get out!”

  Kim ran up the stairs. “What is wrong with you?”

  He glared at her and jabbed his finger toward the papers scattered on the stairs. “This is bullshit,” he told her in no uncertain terms. “You expect me to cut my hair?”

  Kim scooped up the fallen sheets. “It was just a suggestion. My daughter says you’ve had the same general look for ten years. I thought you might want a change going solo.”

  “I’m not ‘going solo’ I’m simply filling in the time during the band’s break with a side project.”

  “Whatever,” Kim mumbled as she stood and hugged the pages to her chest.

  “Whatever?” He gave her a sharp look, his words dripping with sarcasm. “That’s a professional attitude if I’ve ever seen one.”

  Kim whipped around. “Thank God you’re the perfect mo
del of professionalism, Mr. Shimizu.”

  “Oh, yes.” He laughed, bitter though he wasn’t sure why. “Take as many shots as possible while you still can.” He brushed past her, wishing he didn’t have this damn clumsy cast on his leg to hinder his exit. He began to hobble down the rest of the stairs, his temper rising with each clomping step. “As soon as I can find a replacement, you’re fired.”

  He heard the papers hit the polished marble floor and felt the vibration of her running down the stairs behind him. She passed him and stopped two stairs down, looking up at him with barely restrained fury.

  “You can’t fire me. You have no grounds!”

  “I don’t like your attitude!”

  “My attitude?” She put her hands on her rounded hips as she seethed, her ample chest rising and falling with each harsh, quick breath. “You, Mr. Shimizu, are the one who was playing that rotten game when I arrived. You’re the one who ‑‑”

  “Who what?”

  She lowered her gaze but only for a moment. “I didn’t do anything to deserve to be fired, and if I did do something wrong, I at least deserve a warning and a chance to make it right.”

  “You expect me to cut my hair,” he blurted out lest he say something foolish having to do with last night.

  Kim laughed. “Your hair? This is about a random note I made that you might want a new look? Are you really that vain?”

  Imai started laughing, too, though the sound came out more like strangled barking noises than anything else. “Oh, please,” he hissed. “Vain? No. But I have taste. At least I thought I did before I let you into my house and things started going to shit.” He jabbed his finger at her accusingly.

  “What are you talking about?” Kim stared at him, her expression openly showing all her confusion and frustration. “And don’t you dare bring in the things that happened my first day here because it was you and your asinine practical joke about not speaking English that made things hard.”

  Imai narrowed his eyes. “Maybe I just don’t like the idea of horny women sneaking into my bedroom at night to watch me jerk off.”