Disclaimer: I do not own Tekken or any of its characters.
The small taxi that hurtled up to a curb in Seoul, Korea hardly made a ripple in the human traffic, until several men paused to admire the pair of long shapely legs that swung out of the vehicle as it lurched to a stop. Mei clambered out of the taxi and onto the busy sidewalk, straightening her skirt as she looked anxiously around for the restaurant she had been trying to locate for the past half hour. Being late to anything rankled her, but she had never been to Seoul before, she had accidentally left her guidebook and dictionary at the hotel, and she had had difficulty communicating with the cab driver. She knew that it was perfectly reasonable for all the signs around her to be in Korean, but at the moment she felt unreasonably annoyed at them. Glancing down at the slip of paper in her hand, she concentrated on the appearance of the three Korean characters written there, then looked up at the signs again, hoping to recognize the characters somewhere. To her relief, she finally spotted the matching characters above the entrance to a restaurant only a few step away. She mentally thanked the cab driver and, smoothing her hair, began walking briskly toward the restaurant.
At that moment, a motorcycle came roaring up to the curb directly beside her, making Mei leap back and stare in surprise. The man on the motorcycle was athletically built, wearing a black helmet and a jacket of rich chocolate-brown leather, his long legs clad in dark jeans that outlined muscular thighs. Just sitting there straddling his motorcycle, he seemed to make the air crackle with utter confidence and strength. Even as she mentally kicked herself for her uncharacteristic ogling, Mei somehow couldn't tear her eyes away from him as he cut the engine and reached up to pull off his helmet. Gleaming auburn hair spilled out like flames across his face, some messy sweat-dampened strands sticking up in just the right places. He shoved a black-gloved hand back through the burnished strands, revealing a chiseled profile with sharp cheekbones and a hard, clean-shaven jaw. The man began patting his jacket pockets in search of something, then abruptly lifted his head and looked straight at her as if he sensed her gaze. She froze for a moment, impaled by a pair of intense golden-brown eyes that leveled on her from beneath straight dark brows. Then his expressive face relaxed into a lazy, sexy grin, followed by an ostentatious flirty wink that broke her trance. It was clear that he was enjoying her stares.
Mei quickly turned her back and practically fled toward the entrance of the restaurant, her cheeks burning. She felt so embarrassed and awkward that she wanted to smack herself. She, Mei, who had had a reputation in college for hardly glancing at men, had been caught red-faced in the act of gawking at some cocky stranger on a motorcycle. A drop-dead gorgeous, cocky stranger, with eyes like... She gave her head a violent shake. What in the world had come over her? Taking a deep breath, she attempted to collect herself before stepping into the restaurant; after all, it would be a fine mess if she had to explain to her boyfriend and his buddy why she was suddenly looking so hot and bothered.
Mei stepped up to the hostess's counter, scanning what she could see of the restaurant as her eyes adjusted to the relative darkness.
"Hello, welcome to Dae San Jip," the hostess said in accented English, smiling at her. Having noted Mei's light-skinned biracial features, she had made a good guess. "How many are in your party?"
Just then, Mei's gaze landed on her handsome boyfriend sitting alone at a table to the far right, and she smiled unconsciously.
"Actually, it looks like my boyfriend already got us a table," she said, gesturing toward him.
The woman looked toward where she was pointing, then chuckled and gave Mei a mock-envious glance.
"I was wondering who the lucky girl was," she said, shaking her head. "I hope you don't mind if I say that half the women in this place have been trying not to stare at him from the moment he walked in. The other half just haven't seen him yet."
Mei laughed, already moving towards him. "I'm a lucky girl, all right," she answered sincerely.
All thoughts of her recent embarrassing encounter slipped from her mind as Jin looked up at her with his beautiful dark eyes alight.
"Hey," he murmured, grinning as he stood up to wrap her in a warm hug. Pulling back, he cast his appreciative gaze over her dusky rose chiffon top, bare shoulders, and slim suede skirt. "You look beautiful." His English was softened by the sounds of his native Japanese and the sensual resonance of his deep voice. Mei loved the way he sometimes chose such endearingly proper words, demonstrating the fact that he had learned English largely from books.
"Thanks, but I'm afraid I might be getting my clothes dirty soon," she joked. "Judging from what the hostess said, I'm going to be fighting women off you all night." She ran her hand teasingly down his muscular arm, admiring his broad-shouldered form in a jewel-blue button-down shirt and black slacks.
He shrugged, looking a bit embarrassed as he pulled out her chair for her. "Well, now that you're here, perhaps the waitresses will stop taking turns bringing me water," he chuckled, gesturing at the four full glasses of water that sat in front of his place at the table. "The fifth one was approaching me with more water when you arrived."
Mei gaped at the glasses, then collapsed back in her chair giggling. When she caught her breath, she leaned forward and smiled happily, just taking her time to enjoy looking at him. She could never get used to how handsome he was. Unruly black hair and bold brows, deliciously dark eyes full of humor and tenderness, chiseled cheekbones, and full lips that felt hard and soft at the same time on hers… I really am lucky, she thought, shivering a little at the thought of his hot kisses.
"Mei, you're going to make us skip out on dinner if you keep looking at me like that…" Jin warned softly, carressing her hand.
She chuckled, interlacing her fingers with his. "Sorry I'm late, I left my guide book back at the the hotel and had such a hard time communicating with the cab driver. I take it your friend isn't here yet either?"
"Yes, but that's expected with him," Jin said, shaking his head and smiling. "At least you have an understandable reason to be late. If he were miraculously on time someday, I'd suspect that some alien had taken over his body." He leaned forward eagerly. "I'm excited that you're going to meet each other, though. He has his faults, but he's my best friend and he's loyal to the point of insanity. He's shown me more than once that he'd be willing to die to protect me," he said more somberly. "And I'd do the same for him."
"Aw, Jesus, Kazama, you're gonna have your girl thinking you and me are having an affair," they heard a mocking voice from above their heads.
Startled, Mei looked up toward the source of the voice—straight into the bold stare of the flame-haired motorcyclist. She froze, stunned dismay evident in her expression, much to the man's apparent amusement.
"You gotta be careful with first impressions," he continued, sprawling lazily into a chair, "cuz those are the ones that usually last." With that, he shot her a devastating grin and another all-too-familiar wink, his eyes seeming to glow amber with mischief against his lightly tanned skin. Mei tore her horrified gaze away from him.
"You're finally here!" Jin laughed, clapping the newcomer on the shoulder. "Sorry, I didn't intend to make you sound like you live up to the meaning of your name."
Mei looked from one to the other in confusion as the man narrowed his gaze at Jin, which only made Jin laugh harder.
"Mei," Jin said, "this is my best friend, Hwoarang. That's a Korean name, I'll tell you what it means later," he added, chuckling. "Hwoarang, meet Mei, the girl I've been telling you so much about."
Mei almost flinched because it somehow hadn't registered on her until that moment that this was the friend that Jin had wanted her to meet. Thinking of how he had caught her practically drooling over him outside the restaurant, she felt mortified.
"So this is the foxy lady who's got you whipped," Hwoarang drawled, reaching out to shake her hand. The thought crossed her mind that his English was only slightly accented, and that his cadence and slang sounded remarkably American.
Clearing her throat, Mei managed to find her voice. "H-hi Hwoarang, Jin's told me wonderful things about you. It's great to meet you," she said politely.
"Likewise," he said in an equally polite tone, and she began to relax slightly. Then she realized that Hwoarang still hadn't let go of her hand, and she felt herself flush. His long fingers felt warm and strong against her skin. She finally yanked her hand away a little angrily, but his smile only widened.
"Yes, she's 'foxy' as you say, and she's mine," Jin pretended to growl, punching him hard in the arm. "Hands off."
"Okay, okay!" Hwoarang yelped, rubbing his arm and grimacing in pain. "I was just gonna ask if you're interested in sharing. Guess not, selfish bastard." The two friends grinned at each other with absolutely no animosity.
"By the way," Hwoarang said, glancing back toward the front of the restaurant. "What's with that hostess? When I told her that I was heading over to meet the woman in pink, she looked at me all funny and said something about life not being fair. That's strange, don't you think?"
Mei couldn't help smiling a little as she recalled her earlier exchange with the hostess. Before she could say anything, a waitress approached the table and smiled winningly at Hwoarang and Jin.
"Hello, and welcome to Dae San Jip," she said brightly, directing her gaze at the two men and ignoring Mei completely. "May I take your drink orders?"
Glancing around, Mei realized that the attention of just about every female in the room was now trained on the two men sitting with her. Some stared openly, even leaning around their disgruntled boyfriends or husbands to get a better view. Not that she could blame them, she thought, looking back at her tablemates. Jin was heartstoppingly handsome with his luminous dark eyes, sweet smile, and hard-muscled body, and Hwoarang with his sexy golden-brown stare and predatory grace was every good-little-girl's secret fantasy. Or maybe it wasn't such a secret, she thought, watching the young waitress blush under Hwoarang's speculative gaze.
He leaned back in his chair with a half-smile, letting his eyes roam down and up the flustered waitress. "Well that depends, Miss--?"
"Hong," she supplied quickly.
"Well Miss Hong," he continued in a low voice, "that depends on what you're offering."
The waitress cleared her throat and stammered, "Uh, y-yes, of course. I offer, I mean, we offer, ah, a wide variety of—"
"Don't mind him," Jin interrupted in fluent Korean, taking pity on the young woman. "He'll have a beer, Hite, I'll have a glass of your house red wine, and—" He looked questioningly at Mei, switching to English. "What would you like to drink?"
"I think I'll just start making a dent in all this water," she said, smiling.
"Thank you," the waitress said, and beat a hasty retreat. She glanced quickly over her shoulder at Hwoarang as she walked.
"Jin," Mei said, lifting a surprised brow at him. "I had no idea that you speak Korean."
"Are you impressed?" he asked, giving her a rakish look until she chuckled. "Yes, my mother raised me to speak fluent Korean. I never thought to ask her why."
He turned his gaze to his friend.
"Hwoarang," Jin said, shaking his head at him. "You're impossible. That poor waitress sounded completely professional just a few minutes ago when she was serving that other table over there."
Hwoarang simply shrugged, grinning as he pulled off his leather jacket to reveal a close-fitting black button-down shirt that outlined his toned upper body. The shirt was open at the throat, partially exposing a well-muscled chest and a gleaming emblem suspended by a slender black cord around his neck.
"You'll never change, my friend,"Jin chuckled as he handed Hwoarang a menu.
"Ha! That's what you used to think, remember, you Japanese motherf—ker?" Hwoarang challenged, his sudden insult surprising Mei. She was even more stunned to hear Jin's uncharacteristic reply.
"That's true, you Korean piece of s—t," he shot back, grinning.
Mei again looked from one to the other with confusion, then crossed her arms across her chest.
"All right, you two," she said firmly. "You're going to have to explain to me what's going on. Why are you suddenly cursing at each other and smiling at the same time?"
Both men looked a bit uncomfortable as they seemed to be casting about for what to tell her.
"Well, it's long and complicated…." Jin hedged, smiling at her.
"I'm listening," Mei said stubbornly, their hesitation making her even more curious.
Hwoarang and Jin were silent for a moment as they exchanged a glance, and memories of their complex history flashed through both their minds.
Jin stumbled across the small room and slid open the wooden door, straining his eyes into the darkness of the temple courtyard. Too late, he realized. His bleak gaze slowly scanned the wide courtyard again and again, despair slowly sinking into his chest like a poison—and then he saw it. Jin forgot to breathe as his gaze leaped back to where he thought he had seen a flicker of movement. His eyes widened when he focused on a tiny point of light glowing in the middle of the courtyard, a light that slowly grew until he could make out the figure in the midst of it. It's her, he thought, hope bursting to life in his chest. It was the Angel, and he could see now that she was beckoning to him. Somehow he knew that if only he could make it out to where she was standing, he would be healed. This Devil that lived inside him, that tormented him day and night to the point of madness, would finally be defeated and cast away. After all this time. Hardly daring to breathe for fear of chasing the Angel away, Jin kept his eyes fixed on her luminous figure as he lifted exhausted trembling arms to support himself against the doorway. She was so beautiful… Slowly he took a step out into the courtyard, a tremulous smile of hope beginning to curve his lips.
Out of the darkness a foot lashed out viciously across his chest, and Jin crashed backward through the doorway and to the floor, completely stunned. Shaking his head slightly to clear it, he looked up at his attacker and was unable to believe his eyes for a moment. Standing over him, a nasty smirk twisting his features, was the last person in the world Jin would have expected to see: the Korean gang leader, Hwoarang. Jin desperately heaved himself to his hands and knees and crawled around Hwoarang to the doorway, his gaze frantically searching the courtyard. But it was too late. She was gone, leaving nothing but darkness in her place. A strangled cry lodged in Jin's throat as the unbearable loss engulfed him, his long-tortured mind careening toward madness. He heard the Devil's voice again, the horrible laughter ringing through his mind, mocking him. Clutching his head, Jin sank slowly to the floor, his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.
"You didn't think you could hide forever did you, motherf—ker?" Hwoarang's voice sliced through the air from behind him. "I don't know what the hell you were doing all the way out here, but I found you, and it's finally time for our rematch. Now get up!"
Hwoarang prodded Jin's leg with his foot, then frowned when his enemy didn't respond and remained hunched over on the floor, making strange muffled sounds. Hwoarang had just opened his mouth to challenge Jin again, when he heard a quiet voice from the huddled figure at his feet.
"You f—ing bastard."
Hwoarang's eyebrows shot up, and he laughed incredulously.
"What's this?" he mocked. "Little mama's-boy Kazama is suddenly using grown-up language? I'm almost starting to like you better already."
Hwoarang never saw Jin move, but somehow he found himself slammed against the wall with steel-like hands at his throat, staring into Jin's half-insane emaciated face.
"What the f—k is wrong with you!?" Jin screamed, shaking him. Tears streamed down his sunken cheeks. "Do you know what you just did? That was my chance! I can't believe I just lost my f—ing chance because of you, you piece of s—t!"
Hwoarang's eyes bulged as the weight crushed his throat. Gasping for breath, he scrabbled desperately at Jin's hands, unable to use his legs because they were pinned against the wall. Just as he was about to slam his fist into the side of Jin's head, he was suddenly thrown to the ground and landed on his hands and knees, retching.
"You are so pathetic," Jin spat, his voice full of contempt. "I spend my days running from my own homicidal grandfather, and my nights having seizures and spitting up blood to stop the Devil from taking me over. Meanwhile, you spend all your time chasing me for a rematch to a g—damn streetfight! Get it through your thick skull, Hwoarang. I don't give a s—t about you or your f—ing rivalry. I have more important things to do, so go get yourself a life and stay out of mine!"
Jin stumbled to the door and ran out into the darkness, leaving Hwoarang to stare after him with eyes that burned with rage and something like despair.
"Ah, well, basically," Jin said finally, "Hwoarang and I met for the first time when I was here in Seoul on a business trip. We met quite randomly on the street and had a…an argument about something and just got the wrong impression about each oth--"
"Naw, Jin," Hwoarang interrupted, shaking his head. "Don't do that."
"What are you talking about?" Jin said, but he looked uncomfortable.
"I don't need you to protect me." Hwoarang turned toward Mei and gave her a bit of a smile. "The truth is, I used to be a scumbag criminal gang leader. I met Jin when I had my gang start a fight with his group to scam them out of some money."
Mei didn't know what to say so she just nodded, beginning to feel sorry that she had asked.
"I forced Jin to fight me," he continued, "and we almost killed each other before our men pulled us apart. I was so mad that I hadn't beaten him that I spent the next couple years chasing after him for a rematch. Then some things happened to make me see that there were more important things in life, and we somehow ended up friends."
Mei nodded again, and she must have looked ill at ease because Hwoarang laughed.
"Look, don't be embarrassed about my past," he said with a proud tilt of his head, "because I'm sure as hell not."
Jin sighed and shook his head. "Hwoarang's making himself sound like he was such a bad guy, but believe me, there's a lot more to his story than that. But," Jin added, holding up his hand at Hwoarang's warning look, "it's not my story to tell. And I think that waitress is getting ready to come back soon, so why don't we decide what to order?"
Mei was glad that Jin had changed the subject, but as she glanced through the menu, she couldn't help wondering about Hwoarang's past. She had taken him to be such an easy-going, flirty jokester that she could hardly believe he had apparently been a violent gang leader. And who was he now? So much for first impressions, she thought.
Soon the waitress returned to take their orders then walked off toward the kitchen, her cheeks pink from Hwoarang's warm smiles.
"All right," he said, leaning back comfortably in his chair. "Your turn. How did you two meet? At some charity event, right?"
Mei glanced laughingly at Jin. "Is that what Jin told you?"
Jin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, it's true," he mumbled.
"Yeah, we did meet at a charity event," she told Hwoarang, "but I guess Jin conveniently forgot to tell you that we had met before that too."
She took Jin's hand and smiled into his eyes, remembering.
She ducked into a bookstore, loosening her scarf as the heated air hit her cold-pinkened cheeks. Thanks to her almost freakishly punctual nature, she had arrived too early for the charity benefit and now had half an hour to kill. She glanced around the enormous bookstore and noticed that many of the Japanese signs had English translations beneath them. Apparently, this part of Tokyo was a popular place for tourists. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a man standing in front of a large display of books, and something about him made her turn toward him. He was poring through the titles in the section labeled "Trees and Nature," his back to her, wearing a long elegant tweed coat that was beautifully tailored to his tall broad-shouldered frame. As she wandered in his direction, the man reached for a book and pulled it out, only to accidentally jostle several other books to tumble from their place on the shelf to the floor. She watched with amusement as he jumped in surprise and quickly crouched down to pick up the books. A little too quickly, because he ended up nudging another nearby display of books with his shoulder, causing several of those to crash to the floor in a heap practically at her feet. Muffling a chuckle, she crouched down beside the flustered man and gathered the rest of the books for him. As they both stood to face each other, she bit her lip to hide her smile because she didn't want him to think she was laughing at him. She looked up to meet his eyes and went still for a moment. Without a doubt, this had to be the most gorgeous man she had ever seen in her life. Dark hair, beautiful eyes, full lips… He was the kind of man who was so incredibly handsome that one just assumed he must be disgustingly conceited. But from the shy way he was smiling and peering down at her with his luminous dark eyes, he didn't look conceited at all. In fact, she was melting into a puddle under his gaze.
"Thank you very much," he said in Japanese, his voice wonderfully low and resonant.
Distracted by his voice, she tried frantically to remember how to say You're welcome in Japanese.
"You're welcome," she finally blurted the words after an awkward pause, but with the thick American accent she had tried so hard to lose while practicing Japanese phrases.
A little embarrassed, she began to turn away.
"Ah, pardon me," the man said in accented English. "I can take those for you if you'd like."
She realized all of a sudden that she was still holding the books she had picked up from the floor. She felt so amused at herself that her momentary sense of awkwardness disappeared, and she laughed as she met his eyes again.
"Oh yeah, thanks," she chuckled. She deposited the books into his hands, then turned to walk away.
Because she turned away so quickly, she didn't see the way his expression changed at the sight of her smile. Jin had been thinking that she was attractive, with her delicate Eurasian-looking features, kind toffee-brown eyes, and the light smattering of freckles across her fair skin. But she had the kind of big, enthralling smile that shot a dazzling light into her eyes and transformed a merely pretty face into one of electric beauty; the kind of smile that left a man staring after her with his mouth slightly open long after she had turned away. Jin gazed at her retreating back until she disappeared behind some bookshelves, then he remembered to close his mouth. He didn't think he had ever seen such a beautiful smile before. He briefly considered chasing after her and asking her to smile for him again, but shook his head as he placed the books back on the shelf. What did he know about women? He was 23 years old, and hadn't touched a girl since he was 19. No, the past few years had been far too complicated for that. Squaring his shoulders, Jin pulled on his gloves and headed out the door toward the Mishima Corporation building. Duty called.
"Jin and I actually met in a bookstore in Tokyo three months ago," Mei told Hwoarang. "I had wandered in there because I was early for a charity event, and I saw this guy looking through the Trees and Nature section—"
"Oh man, what a nerd," Hwoarang muttered, rolling his eyes.
"—and he kept knocking books over like a big klutz," she continued, shooting Jin a grin. "I helped him pick them up, we exchanged a few words, and we went our separate ways. I didn't think I'd ever see him again, but then I went over to this charity event. I had just moved from the U.S. to start a job at an organization that researches and treats mental illness, and the head of some huge corporation in Tokyo had suddenly decided to donate a ton of money to our cause. When it came time for the head of the Mishima Corporation to present the money to my boss, I was totally shocked to see Jin walking up there. I mean, he's so young!"
"I saw her in the crowd," Jin joined in, "and I went over to talk to her afterward. Everything she said seemed amazing to me, and she made me laugh." He smiled fondly at her. "I could hardly bring myself to leave her side the whole rest of the evening. Finally I gave up trying, and she hasn't been able to get rid of me since."
"Aw, I think I'm gonna throw up," Hwoarang groaned, shaking his head, but he was smiling.
"I don't think I really said anything amazing, but Jin completely wowed me. For someone to take the money and power he has and choose to do something so honorable with it…I was floored." Mei leaned forward, her eyes intense and serious. "Most people don't appreciate how horrible mental illness can be. After I became a clinical psychologist in the States, I got so upset seeing how ashamed patients from Asia were about their illnesses. You wouldn't believe how far advanced some of their illnesses would get before they'd seek help. Sure, there's a stigma attached to mental illness everywhere, but it's so extreme in so many parts of Asia, and I moved to Japan to try to do something about it. It's just not fair that these patients have to feel like it's their fault that chemical imbalances in their brains are making them hear horrible voices day and night, or get depressed to the point of suicide." She stopped herself and sat back, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry, I tend to get kinda passionate about this."
"See what I mean?" Jin said softly, gazing tenderly at her. "Amazing."
Hwoarang's gaze moved to Jin for a moment, then returned to Mei.
"That's a great cause," he said quietly. "I know someone who used to have problems like that. The voices wouldn't leave him alone, and he felt completely trapped, nowhere to turn. It almost destroyed him."
Mei nodded, intrigued. "How did he find help? A good psychiatrist?"
"Well, let's just say that his was a special case, and he somehow managed to find his own way. Anyway, it's great that you're so passionate about what you do. Sometimes—sometimes I wonder if I'll ever find something to make me feel that alive again—" Hwoarang closed his mouth abruptly as if he had said more than he had intended, and there was an awkward pause before Jin tactfully steered the conversation to a lighter topic.
For the rest of the dinner, their conversation ranged easily from Jin's recent business successes, to Korean pop singers, to hilarious stories of memories that Hwoarang and Jin shared. Mei laughed until her sides hurt at some of the stories they told, and was somewhat amazed that these two men, who seemed so different from each other and had apparently not liked each other at first, could obviously be such good friends.
After a couple of hours, Hwoarang convinced them to go with him to sample the delights of Korean karaoke and soju, and Jin lifted his hand to signal for the check. Just as it arrived, an insistent vibrating noise began somewhere in their vicinity.
"Oh, excuse me," Jin said, fumbling in his pocket. Turning slightly away, he put his cell phone to his ear.
"Yes, this is Kazama Jin," he said. He listened for a moment, then his hand tightened on the phone. "Are you certain?" he asked tersely. After another pause, he said something in rapid Japanese, his face grim, and snapped the phone shut. He shoved his chair back and stood, glancing apologetically at Mei and Hwoarang's surprised faces.
"I'm sorry, but I must go right now," he apologized, tossing a thick stack of money onto the table.
"Man, I wish I could throw money around like that," Hwoarang muttered, pretending to scowl at Jin.
"Is something wrong?" Mei asked Jin, frowning.
"There's just a little problem over at the Seoul office," he said with a reassuring smile. "It's most likely nothing, but I must check just in case. I'll be back at the hotel in a couple of hours."
"Well we're done anyway, why don't we just walk out with you," Hwoarang suggested.
The three of them walked out to the dark street, where Jin waved his arm to hail a cab.
"Unfortunately the office is in the opposite direction from the hotel," Jin said as a cab pulled up. "Hwoarang, I don't feel comfortable sending Mei off alone at this hour. Could you take her to the hotel?"
Before Mei could say anything, Jin quickly kissed her cheek and climbed into the cab.
"I'll see you soon," he promised, and then he was gone.
Mei watched the cab round a corner, feeling strangely reluctant to look at the man she was now alone with.
"Are you ready to go?" Hwoarang asked cheerfully, obviously completely at ease in contrast to her awkwardness.
He stepped over to his motorcycle, picked up the spare helmet, and held it toward her. Turning reluctantly toward the motorcycle, Mei eyed the gleaming mass of black metal and suppressed a shudder. She had never even touched a motorcycle before, let alone ride one. She generally preferred to live a quiet and safe life, and tearing through traffic on a dangerous open vehicle controlled by an unfamiliar former gang leader did not qualify in either of those categories. Not to mention the fact that she guiltily found said gang leader more than a little attractive, and she was eager to get away from him.
"Uh, thank you, but you really don't have to take me to the hotel," she said politely. "I'll just get a cab."
"It's no trouble, and besides, Jin entrusted you to me," Hwoarang said. "Imagine how guilty I'll feel if I let you go alone and you end up somewhere in China. And Jin would beat me to a bloody pulp!"
Mei almost smiled at his joking, but continued to hesitate as she cast about madly for an excuse. Crossing his arms over his chest, Hwoarang leaned back against the motorcycle and grinned slowly at her.
"What's the matter? You don't trust me?"
"N-no, it's not that!" Mei said hastily. She knew Jin would never have left her with someone who wasn't trustworthy. "It's just—" She stopped, unwilling to admit either her fear of the motorcycle or her discomfort with him.
"Oh, I see," he drawled knowingly. Her eyes snapped to his face. "You're afraid to get on my bike. Don't worry, I understand," he continued kindly, turning away from her. "The thought of getting on a motorcycle must be terrifying for a delicate and sheltered girl like you. I mean, it's such a wild thing to do."
Mei was normally not the type of person to rise to the bait, especially such obvious bait. Normally, she would have very maturely ignored him, turned away with silent dignity, and glided gracefully down the street to hail a taxi. Not this time, though. Something about Hwoarang made her blood boil.
Seething with anger at what he had just said, Mei stalked over to him, yanked the helmet out of his hands and jammed it onto her head. That done, she unceremoniously hiked her skirt up to mid-thigh and threw her leg over the motorcycle, refusing to look at him.
Hiding a smile, Hwoarang looked her over and suddenly noticed something.
"You're not planning to ride wearing just that, are you?" he said, gesturing at her thin black cardigan.
"Well, I thought I'd be going to the hotel in a taxi with Jin, not riding on this—this contraption," she sniffed.
To her surprise, Hwoarang shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it over her, then zipped it up for her. He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the picture she presented: the helmet slightly squeezing her rounded cheeks, the jacket sleeves dangling far past her hands, the skirt bunched up around her hips, the long bare legs, and especially the scowl stamped onto her pretty face. He couldn't help but find her absolutely adorable.
"Well?" she snapped irritably, although she was slightly mollified by his unexpected gesture. "Are we going or not?"
"Your wish is my command," he said gallantly, climbing onto the motorcycle in front of her.
He pulled on his helmet and started the engine, then realized that she was still sitting ramrod-straight behind him.
"You're going to need something to hold onto," he told her, and before she could say anything, he grabbed her hands and pulled her forward to wrap her arms securely around his abdomen. She was about to pull away, but then the motorcycle roared away from the curb and she released a small involuntary shriek, plastering herself to his back.
After Mei got over the initial terror of impending death and learned how to lean into the curves of the road, she began to become aware of her physical situation. She was clutching Hwoarang between her legs, her face and chest pressed against his broad back, her arms wrapped around his warm hard-muscled torso. She couldn't help noticing that he smelled wonderfully of soap mingled with the subtler, even more delicious scent of his own skin. Engulfed in his warmth, blissfully breathing in his scent, she knew she had never before had such a purely sensual experience with a virtual stranger. The adrenaline made her feel high, and without thinking, she gave in to the sudden impulse to splay her fingers over his abdomen to feel the rock-hard muscles that tensed slightly at her touch. Immediately, she felt her face flush bright red. What had just come over her? She thought guiltily of Jin. Good thing she had been subtle enough to pretend that she had just been adjusting her grip.
A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of her hotel and Hwoarang braked to a stop. Without cutting the engine, he slipped off the motorcycle and removed his helmet, then held out his hand to help her climb to the ground.
He was being such a gentleman, she noted with surprise. Mumbling her thanks, she pulled off his jacket and helmet and handed them to him. Just as she was about to turn away, she heard his amused voice.
"By the way, next time you go to cop a feel, give me a little warning, yeah? Don't get me wrong, it was good for me too, but I should probably pull over first next time so we don't end up in an accident."
Her face immediately went hot, but she hoped he couldn't see her blush in the half-light and tried to salvage her pride anyway.
"For your information," she said primly, "I was just trying to get a better grip so I wouldn't go flying off your motorcycle. Has anyone ever told you that you drive crazy?"
He sat back lazily on the motorcycle seat, tipped his head to the side, and grinned at her. "Now that's odd. Most women love it when I drive them crazy. In fact, I've had women beg me to drive them crazy several times in one night, over and over and over."
Mei tried to think of something to say, but ended up just standing there with her mouth open.
"It was nice meeting you too, Mei," Hwoarang called, and he roared off, his laughter floating back to her on the night wind.
Mei let out an unladylike growl of frustration. She was normally a smart, competent professional. Why was she letting this person turn her into a bumbling idiot? She turned on her heel and stalked into the hotel.
Hwoarang smiled to himself as he rode away. She was way too easy to tease because she seemed so innocent in some ways. Although he had to admit that he had rather enjoyed the feeling of her hand stroking over his abdomen. Suddenly his body stirred warmly at the memory, but he pushed the thought firmly away. She was Jin's girlfriend, after all. Wait a minute, so what the hell was Mei doing feeling him up anyway? In hindsight, the idea seemed ridiculous, and he wondered if he had taken an innocent touch and twisted it in his mind. Maybe he owed her an apology. In any case, all he knew was that inexplicably, his body was now feeling downright uncomfortable. Muttering a curse in Korean, Hwoarang took a sudden sharp right turn off the main road.
Within a few minutes, he was knocking insistently at the door of a chic-looking apartment. The door swung open to reveal a stikingly attractive woman with high cheekbones and a lush mouth.
"Hwoarang!" she said with surprise, stepping back to let him in. He walked in and closed the door behind him.
"Yumi," he said a little urgently. "Do you have time tonight?"
She crossed her arms over her chest, something she saw in his face making her smile with amusement.
"Not really, but from the looks of you, something tells me I'd better make time."
Before she could say anything else, he was already shoving her roughly against the wall, his lips parting hers, his hands unbuttoning and unclasping with practiced ease.
Much later, Yumi lay limply beside him glowing with sweat, wearing nothing but a dreamy smile. She raised herself up on one elbow toward him and peered down at him with amusement.
"You've met someone," she announced.
He opened one eye to look at her, then closed it again. "What are you talking about?"
She chuckled. "Look, you haven't worn me out this completely since the first few days of our little arrangement. So obviously you've met someone new who gave you a little extra inspiration. Who is she?"
His lips curved slightly as he placed one arm behind his head. "You'd better be careful, or I might think you're getting jealous."
"Ha," she snorted, "you know I like our no-strings-attached arrangement as much as you do. I'm just wondering how soon I'm going to have to find someone to take your place. Although it's a real shame," she sighed, trailing her fingers down his taut abdomen. "I don't know where I'm going to find someone else with your particular, ah, qualifications."
She cried out with surprise as he flipped her suddenly onto her back.
"I'm not going anywhere yet," he growled, his mouth coming down on hers again.
In a hotel hallway on the other side of the city, Mei was being kissed very thoroughly good night by Jin. She loved it when he kissed her. Within a few hours of meeting him, she had realized that beneath the calm exterior lay a man of incredible passion and fire. And this was never more obvious than when he kissed her, his lips and tongue tormenting her, his hands hard and warm against her body. For someone who had been so shy to kiss her the first time, he had certainly learned fast. By the time he finally let go of her, she was shaking. She looked into his dark eyes and saw the question that she had been seeing there every night recently. Jin never pressured her, but she knew that he wanted her; she could see it in his face, feel it in his kiss.
"Good night," she said softly, smiling up at him. She opened her hotel room door and slipped inside, leaving him out in the hallway. She closed the door and leaned against it, exhaling shakily. She tried not to think about him lying warm and gorgeous in the very next room. She wanted him too, but she had been hesitating for weeks because she wanted her first time to be with someone whose love she was sure of. Although, if she was honest with herself, she had been sure of Jin since their second date. Everything just felt so right with him. Smiling softly, she remembered how last week, he had pulled her into his arms and tenderly told her that he loved her.
She pushed herself away from the door, running a hand through her hair. Just wait, she told herself, smiling. Jin's birthday was coming up, and she was going to have a very special gift for him.