Naruto and associated characters, place, paraphernalia, etc. are all the brainchild of one Kishimoto Masashi. No credit is taken where it is not due.

He led her into the sunlight.

So far, he had been satisfied with catching glimpses of her downward face through the long tendrils of hair that crowned her creamy eyes and framed her pale face. Under the cover of a handsomely outfitted tree, bursts of citrus light and shadow intermingled on her ivory skin, creating a stimulating play of saturation and shapeless dapples of depth that accentuated the curve of her cheekbones and tilt of her pert nose.

He didn't really care about her body, he decided, so it was enough to stare at her face. Even as he made this conclusion, his arm took the liberty of snaking around her right hip, reveling in the subtle hint of femininity that even her baggy pants couldn't mask. He took pleasure in the little involuntary muscle spasms that accompanied his other hand creeping under her jacket to rest nonchalantly against her stomach. The widening of her eyes, the soft gasp—these reactions were even more addicting than the softness of her body.

Though even that was something to be reckoned with, he mused.

He allowed his fingertips to continue upwards, skimming gently up her spine until his arm was submerged up to the elbow under her jacket. Her body shivered delicately as she grasped onto his shirt somewhat desperately. He continued to stroke her back while his other hand slipped out from under her shirt and tangled into her hair, combing the thick tresses back.

It was all about pushing the boundaries, seeing how much he could get away with. Each time he went a little farther, pushed a little harder. Each time she gave in without much of a fight. However, he still hadn't won the war.

While she certainly was embarrassed, her cheeks tinged a soft rosy pink, it wasn't quite the raging inferno he had witnessed under…different circumstances. So he lowered his mouth to her ear.

Had he not been holding her against him, she would have easily fallen over backwards as she registered the first press of his lips against the outer shell of her ear. She would never have thought that such a seemingly useless piece of human anatomy could be so—she blushed fiercely—stimulated.

Ah. There it was.

Feeling the blaze that erupted against his jaw, he naturally assumed she had unknowingly forfeited, and with a last mischievous nibble against her earlobe, he quickly stepped back, releasing her. To her extreme embarrassment, she wobbled and lurched over at the loss of his support before regaining her sense of balance. She didn't look up—the one time she had, his subtle smirk had been burned into her memory—and instead chose to stare at her sandals, wiggling her toes absentmindedly while willing the heat in her cheeks to die down. She heard him begin his almost noiseless retreat and let him disappear from the clearing before lifting her head up cautiously.

Damn it. The bastard had won again.

Author's Note:

First submission! Hooray. What results from the consumption of three 24 ounce Xing green teas. Highly NOT recommended.