This is my latest project. It's a bit different from anything I've written before in that it's pure filth from start to finish! Rated for language, sex, violence, adult themes etc.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

Yeah, Sakura seems to have a bit of an attitude problem...sorry about that. Also, this is the first time I've written anything this citrusy, so don't forget to let me know what you think.

Watch Me Burn

Whim.

She was pretty, pink-haired and a demon in the fighting ring. She was also exceedingly late for work. This was extremely unusual for Sakura; who was meticulously organised and ran her own business. Yet she rushed round her apartment on this particular morning, dressing in her usual attire for a day of teaching martial arts to the local community and training for her next professional fight. She was interrupted by her cell phone ringing. Checking the caller ID, she saw it was Sasuke Uchiha. So not welcome. Sakura could think of much better ways to spend her morning than talking to the ex. He was no doubt being chauffeur driven to his private college someway across town, while Sakura worked a fifty hour week to make food and rent.

"Sasuke," she answered angrily. She hoped to convey as much of her annoyance at him and bitterness from their failed relationship as possible into her tone of voice.
"Say, Sakura," he drawled, mockingly "I heard you're a hotshot in the underground business. Reckon you could score me an in for Saturday's fight? I'd love to take Karin. She's never been to a fight before, can you imagine?"
Actually, Sakura could imagine there were a lot of things Sasuke's current girlfriend hadn't done before…like an honest day's work.
"No can do, Sasuke. Sorry," she said firmly. Her heart sank every time he called. Part of her wanted to give into his ridiculous requests, to humour his every whim and take care of him. Even though it had been a few months since they'd broken up, it still hurt inside whenever he called her, or whenever she thought of him with another woman.
"But Sakura?" he pleaded, as if he hoped it would melt her heart. She hung up on him, annoyed he was wasting her time. That was why she had a rule. No more rich guys. Or at least, she thought wryly, eying the crumbling wallpaper in her apartment, no more spoilt rich guys.

During her lunch break she called her neighbour and close friend Deidara. Deidara was an underground fighter too and he used to help out at Sakura's dojo. Now he went to art school, determined to make a name out of his curious exploding sculptures. While she moaned about Sasuke bothering her, Deidara insisted she barely had a life outside work. She had no choice in the matter, it appeared; he was dragging her out to a bar in the evening and there was nothing she could do to stop him.
"Besides," Deidara smirked, "You really need to get some,"
As Sakura cut the call she shook her head in amusement. She ignored his slight jibe about her sex life, figuring she could punch him for it later. She could probably beat Deidara in a fight, now that he spent all of his time studying for school rather than training. Since starting college, Deidara had developed an active social life and it seemed Sakura was going to be dragged into it.

Normally, she didn't do bars. The alcoholic drinks were expensive and full of sugar - an enemy if she was trying to watch her weight for a fight: in a closely matched competition, a couple of pounds could make all the difference. The late nights left her tired and messed with her schedule; and the people who spent their time there annoyed her. Sakura got enough unwanted male attention as it was from Sasuke, she didn't need to encourage it. However the one thing Sakura loved, nearly as much as the adrenaline she felt when knocking someone about in the ring, was to dance. Dancing at bars could be fun; if she had Deidara by her side.

Besides, when was the last time she had done something for herself? It was always work, work, work with an occasional break to complain about Sasuke. Even when she won a fight, she did not allow herself to attend the raucous after-parties that were almost as famous as the ringside bloodshed. No wonder Deidara called her boring. After a day's work and an impulse trip to the beauty salon, Sakura was looking forward to her night out. At the salon she had had a manicure and, surprising herself, a bikini wax. She hadn't waxed since she'd broken up with Sasuke, who had a marked preference for Brazilians. As Sakura winced her way home, she instantly felt sexier. Maybe Deidara was right, she did need a man after all. Sakura dressed in a slinky cocktail dress and stiletto heels, outlining her eyes in kohl. Before Deidara knocked on her door, she took a steadying swig of neat vodka. She wasn't sure if she could do this.

Deidara smirked when he saw Sakura's getup, but not unkindly. With his encouragement, Sakura started enjoying herself. She began playing her part. She rolled her hips when she walked, crossing her ankles to exaggerate her firm ass. She didn't smile, but an alluring glint flashed in her eyes. She carried herself straight; her posture perfected by years of martial arts.
"You're a knockout. Enjoy yourself," Deidara whispered as the doorman let them in. Sakura caught a glimpse of herself in the swanky mirrored wall as she entered the bar. She looked cool, sophisticated and elegant. She looked like a different person. She looked like she fitted in at the classy bar. She looked like she was too good for Sasuke Uchiha.

Sakura approached the bar and ordered a Long Island Iced Tea. While the bartender mixed her cocktail, Sakura scanned the crowd. Deidara had abandoned her moments after he had entered the room and caught sight of his college friends. She sighed, although it was no less than she expected. Now he had a gang of buddies from art school, of course his younger, workaholic neighbour would play second fiddle. Deidara had changed since he had started college. Obviously, he had work commitments and new friendships but that didn't explain his late nights, his constant tiredness and the bruises snaking up and down his body. He was constantly on edge, he disappeared for days without warning and Sakura had noticed that he now carried a gun. As she watched him socialise, he seemed the same as always but there was a strain to his voice, as if he was hiding a great secret.

She sipped her drink, relishing the taste of ice cold liquor. She flipped her hair away from her face and licked her lips. She was aware of eyes on her; mainly appreciative male eyes, apart from the glares of the occasional jealous girlfriend. This was not something she was used to. Sakura knew she wasn't exactly hideous, but she preferred to focus on her training or work rather than improving her appearance. Normally, she was dressed in exercise clothing: tracksuit pants, shorts and sports bras, with a sweaty face and her hair tied in a sloppy ponytail. Practical and comfortable for a day's training, but not particularly sexy.

She glanced around, looking over her shoulder. If Deidara was otherwise occupied, she might as well see if there were any guys she liked the look of. After all it had been too long. There was a group of guys standing a few feet away from her, unashamedly checking her out. They were dressed in fashionable, expensive clothes, swigging beers straight from the bottle and joking immaturely. Frat boys, Sakura thought disdainfully. They were all 'dudes' and 'bros' and full of big talk yet they were essentially overgrown children with Daddy's plastic. Not her type. She smoothed her skirt over her thighs and turned away, taking another sip of her potent cocktail. She was looking for someone a little less average; a little more of a man. She scanned the bar again. Deidara was chatting to his friends: a pale guy in a crop top and a redhead who looked about fifteen years old. Both had the distinct pretentious air of 'artistes', which gave them a false sense of entitlement. She sighed openly. This was what he had abandoned her for? Sakura was tempted to leave. She felt ridiculous in her short dress. She longed to scrub her makeup off and curl up in bed.

Turning round, Sakura felt eyes on her. She was about to tell the frat boys she wasn't interested, when she saw what she had been looking for. He was sitting in a private booth, surrounded by a group of beautiful people yet somehow he was distanced from them. He had a lean, muscular frame; dressed in a well cut grey suit and he had immaculately tousled red hair. The aura he gave off was dangerous, it was exciting, it was sexy. There was a tattoo on his forehead; the Japanese kanji for love. The dark circles round his eyes served only to highlight his impressive bone structure but what got Sakura most was his impassive face. Even as she looked his way, he drew his lips into a teasing half-smirk.

He was staring at her openly, as if he liked what he saw. His gaze was so intense she blushed very slightly and looked away. He smirked even harder, like he was amused by the effect he'd had on her. Sakura, however, chastised herself. As an unbeaten fighting champion, she did not make a habit of blushing when a man looked at her. She steeled herself and stared back at him from under her lashes, neither of them breaking eye contact.

If Sakura had a type it was for bad boys. She liked sophistication, maturity, charm and confidence. She liked her guys to be masculine and slightly wild, perhaps with a rebellious, dangerous streak. As a woman who knew what she wanted, she preferred a man who knew what he wanted. The redhead embodied all of these traits she found so desirable. Yet Sakura was wiser now - Sasuke Uchiha had also embodied all of these traits and she wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.

She gave the sexy redhead a small, teasing smile before finishing her drink and standing up slowly. She walked across the bar to join Deidara, deliberately allowing her hips to sway. Deidara introduced her to his friends from art school; Sai and Sasori. One seemed to be emotionally stunted, the other a sociopath, so Sakura could see why Deidara got on so well with them. She listened to the music; a mellow slinky number with a prominent bassline was playing which made her long to dance. As they moved to the music, Sakura half-heartedly listened to Deidara's ribbing about her love life. She felt the urge to return the banter - when was the last time Deidara got laid anyway? Instead, she ignored him and danced. Slowly, sensually she swayed her hips and sashayed across the warmly lit floor. She showed herself off a bit. There was a glimmer in her eyes that was normally reserved for a hard-to-beat opponent in the ring. Tonight though, she was on fire. Her hands caressed her soft thighs, working their way up her body, lightly tracing her curves. She flicked her hair and with her hands above her head, spun in a slow circle. Her movements were slow and deliberate but emphasised every aspect of her body. She wasn't trashy or overtly sexual but when Sakura danced people tended to look twice. The redhead was no exception, she noted with a small amount of pleasure. His eyes were on her slim figure as she moved on the dance floor. She glanced at him briefly but turned away modestly when she felt his stare boring into her. Suddenly, her movements became more self-conscious, more reserved. With a perfectly manicured fingernail, she traced the length of her exposed collarbone before fiddling with a strand of her pink hair.

She knew what she wanted. But she was cautious of how much she wanted it. A well-hidden shy streak overcame Sakura as she stole another glance at the redhead. She blushed when she saw he was still looking her way. Sasuke had been her first, her only but even he had not ignited so much desire in her with one glance. A smirk crept over the redhead's face. It seemed to amuse him, watching her reactions to his attention. Sakura blushed harder and turned her back on him. He made no attempts to hide his stare, despite her obvious self-consciousness.

"If you asked the man with the red hair very nicely, I think he might buy you a drink," Deidara leaned towards Sakura. She wasn't surprised that Deidara had noticed her exchange with the sexy redhead, "And screw you senseless," he added under his breath, his voice full of laughter.

To her chagrin Deidara's words resonated with Sakura. While his mocking was uncalled-for, he was right on. She imagined dancing with the redhead, feeling his muscular body pressed against hers as they moved to the music. She imagined the feel of his lips on hers, of his hands roaming her body, removing her dress, slipping her underwear to the side, teasing her…

Sakura flushed as she came to her senses. She needed to stop thinking these suggestive thoughts. More than that, she needed a drink. Ignoring the object of her fantasy's booth lest a blush take over her face, Sakura made her way to the bar. There was a queue but she did not have to wait long.
"A Long Island Iced Tea, please," she said when the barman turned her way. She got out a note, but before he could take her money he was interrupted.
"And a dry martini, please," a man's voice behind her said. He held out a twenty which the bartender accepted wordlessly. Sakura turned round to see who had spoken. It was the sexy redhead. Up close, he was even more attractive. No sensible thoughts formed in Sakura's head apart from her desire to fuck him, and the Bond films.

"Shaken, not stirred?" she asked. She raised an eyebrow in what she hoped was an alluring way. If he was taken aback, he did not show it.
"Does it look like I give a damn?" he replied with a smirk. He was, Sakura decided, markedly sexier than Daniel Craig.
"Your drinks, Mr. Bond," the barman said, playing along with a grin and placing their cocktails in front of them.
"Thank you," Sakura said to the redhead, when she finally noticed he had bought her a drink. Without asking, he took the seat next to hers.
"I thought I'd better introduce myself, seeing as you've been staring all night. Gaara," he said, still smirking.
"My name is Sakura," she replied. No surnames. Just like she wanted. She held out her hand for him to shake. Surprising her, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. He gently kissed the back of her hand, looking at her from under his red hair. Even when he let her go, Sakura could feel the ghost of his cool lips against her skin. She felt her face grow hot again, the faint pink tinting her cheeks.

Gaara sipped his drink, his eyes never leaving Sakura's. "You know, you're cute when you blush," he said. The mere sound of his voice sent shivers down her spine and at the mention of the word, Sakura blushed deeper, earning a smirk from Gaara.
"See what I mean. Do I make you nervous?" he asked, teasing.
"No. No. Absolutely not. No way. I'm not even blushing…it's just, I'm hot… I mean, it's hot in here, isn't it? And I was dancing. That gets you hot…I mean, that…that's…That's why I'm blushing - no, turning red. No…" Sakura trailed off feeling more embarrassed than ever. It didn't exactly help that the air conditioning unit above them was blowing out cool air or that Gaara was laughing at her gently. She'd made a total fool out of herself. The moment a man so much as spoke to her she'd turned into a quivering wreck. A quivering wreck with a big mouth.
"I'm talking crap, aren't I?" she asked.
"A little," Gaara replied.
"Sorry," she said
"Don't apologise," he said it softly but it was a command.

Sakura sipped her drink. She could taste the potency of her cocktail and emboldened by the alcohol she asked; "Why were you staring at me like that?" She referred to earlier, when she had been subject to his intense gaze from across the bar. Gaara smirked again. He looked her over from head to toe, starting with her feet and following her long, slim legs up her crossed thighs and to her hips. His eyes traced her trim waist and over the roundness of her breasts. His gaze lingered a little on her collar bone, glanced over her lips before focussing again on her eyes. "Like what?" he asked. His words were light, teasing yet loaded with put-on innocence.
"Like you were undressing me with your eyes," Sakura said. There was a cheeky tone to her voice. A strand of hair fell in front of her face and she brushed it away delicately.
"Maybe I was," Gaara picked up on her tone and mimicked it.
"Were you?" Sakura asked. She uncrossed her legs, parting her thighs slightly so that Gaara almost got a tantalising view up her skirt, before crossing them again the other way.
"Will you leave if I say yes?" He was teasing her. He knew the answer already.

"No," Sakura replied. She longed to make him uncomfortable, to make him squirm, to embarrass him like he had to her. He remained unruffled and cool however, and she couldn't imagine him blushing or nervously stammering. Besides, deep down, she knew she would think less of him if she broke his resolve with her coy teasing.
"Didn't think so," he said. Something about his cocky confidence and his self-assurance was exceedingly attractive. He looked like a man who knew what he wanted and more importantly, knew how to get it.

"Oh, really?" Sakura asked, "What makes you so sure?" She wasn't one to be won over so easily, though. In response Gaara leant forward from his bar seat. Shifting closer to her, he caressed a hand against her thigh for the briefest of seconds, allowing his touch to shoot desire through Sakura's body before moving his hand to her face. He brushed a strand of hair back from her eyes and stroked her soft cheek with the back of his fingers. He locked a hand through her hair and brought their faces closer together. With his eyes half-closed and his lips slightly parted, Sakura realised he was going in for a kiss. Willingly she leaned the rest of the way forward, lips pursed in a cherry-pink pout. Gaara stopped when their lips were centimetres apart, their noses almost brushing. "This," he whispered, before drawing back slightly.

She was, smiling, well-aware that she had been caught out. She had wanted to kiss him but after that display, she decided he was going to have to work for it.
"You're kidding me, right?" she asked. She kept her tone light.
"Not at all. What's a nice place like this doing with a girl like you, anyway?" he asked. A take on that old chestnut. Like she would fall for it. She laughed derisively, a monosyllabic burst of mockery.
"I think you'll find I'm the nice one. Nicer than you'd think, Gaara," she lowered her voice slightly so it took on a seductive note. He leaned closer to hear her.
"I don't doubt it," he replied, flirting.
"You however, are a different story," Sakura continued. She let her pink lips spread into an alluring smile.

"You're very interesting. And beautiful," Gaara told her. She laughed. Sakura was long past the stage where she made allowances for guys who casually called her beautiful. The word was bandied about too much, it was too easy to say, yet from Gaara it sounded sincerer. He leaned towards her again but this time she turned her cheek towards him. Unabashed, he leant towards her ear. He delicately nipped the lobe before whispering "Let's dance. I might even let you get me back."

The pair finished their drinks and stood up from the barstools. Sakura brushed non-existent fluff from the back of her dress and felt triumph when Gaara's eyes followed her hands to her ass. He entwined his fingers with hers and led her to the centre of the dance floor, where the DJ was playing a commercial dance tune. Sakura danced as she had before, moving her hips in time to the beat, losing herself in the music. Gaara was a good dancer, she noted, he had an understanding of rhythm. More than that, he looked hotter than ever. Sakura reached for his hand, which he held gladly. Without warning, he spun her round and leant her back over his arm. Surprised, Sakura let out a giggle. She looked up at Gaara's face as he leant over towards her. Rather than a teasing smirk, she was treated to a glimpse of his dazzling smile. He delicately kissed her neck, along her collarbone and down towards the plunging neckline of her dress. A tingle shot through Sakura's body at the feel of his lips against her bare skin.

In response, she wrapped her hands round his neck and moved her body closer to his. Grinding her hips against his, she began to dirty dance. She could hear Gaara's laughter in her ear, which spurred her on, snaking a bare thigh between his legs. She pressed her chest against his torso where she was met with a wall of muscle hidden by a designer shirt. Gaara placed his hands on her hips and his touch caused her to grind harder against him. Encouraged, he allowed his hands to roam over her ass, pulling their hips closer together. When the song changed, Gaara spun Sakura round so she was facing the same direction he was. With his hands on her thighs, Sakura ground her ass against Gaara, grinning to herself when she felt his reaction to the friction. She turned round and dropped it, enjoying the effects she was having on him.

An hour and several Long Islands later, Sakura could barely contain her desire. Gaara's magnetic good looks, his sardonic personality and the compelling force she had felt between them on the dance floor had served only to ignite her arousal. She longed for frantic, passionate sex with Gaara; the kind she had never had with Sasuke. She longed for his touch, his hands peeling off her dress and delicately caressing her bare skin. She longed to fight for dominance and for him to pin her to the bed and give her what she craved. She longed to flip him over and take control when she was getting close, to feel his hands moving over her body, to kiss him with passion, grace, force.

"Sakura, will you leave with me tonight?" he asked politely, although his smirk told her he didn't expect her to decline. As they left the bar, Sakura realised she didn't think Gaara regularly went home alone. This didn't bother her as she climbed into a taxi while he held the door, deliberately flashing him her ass. After all, they were each using the other.

They didn't kiss until they were on the ring road, heading to Gaara's apartment. Sakura placed a bare leg over one of Gaara's and leaned close to him, breathing in his clean, spicy scent. He rested a hand on her thigh, and brought his lips toward hers. They kissed slowly and chastely at first, letting the anticipation build before Sakura could contain herself no longer. With a soft moan, she lightly bit down on Gaara's lip, tugging it gently with her teeth. Taking that as invitation, Gaara deepened the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip between her lips and dance and twist with Sakura's. While they kissed, occasionally pausing for breath, Sakura delighted at the feeling of Gaara's unrelenting lips against her own. He traced his hand towards her thigh, slowly and deliberately under the hem of her dress. Excited, Sakura shifted her hips towards his hand, so his fingers would touch where she wanted it most. Teasingly, Gaara traced patterns on her inner thigh, gently caressing the supple skin and making Sakura very hot indeed. His movements stopped at her panty line, before he smoothly hooked one finger beneath her silken thong. Sakura moaned in pleasure, but Gaara stopped his movements there. She was sure he could already feel her wetness seeping onto the silky fabric of her underwear. Sakura longed for him to work his fingers inside of her, to stroke her smooth, moist folds. He didn't oblige, preferring to watch her grow wild with anticipation. Sakura whimpered at the denial. Instead, he kissed her neck and grazed gently on her earlobe.

The taxi arrived at their destination shortly and after an uncomfortable lift ride accompanied by one of Gaara's neighbours, where they were barely able to keep their hands off each other the pair eventually reached Gaara's top floor apartment. Gaara unlocked the door with smooth movements and let Sakura in. As soon as he had shut the door, he slammed her against the wall and resumed kissing her. Their lips crashed and connected in a rapid, almost frantic rush, before they broke apart for a moment, breathing heavily. Sakura wrapped an arm round Gaara's neck and buried her fingers in his hair, pulling him close again. Her lips parted when they met with his and as he bit her lower lip in passion, pulling it between his teeth, she allowed him to taste her hot mouth. Tongues fighting for dominance, Sakura ran her hands through Gaara's hair. She lifted one leg, which she wrapped around his body. He put his hand under her leg, pulling her closer.

Sakura hastily unbuttoned his shirt, accidentally ripping it in the process, which neither of them seemed to notice. With Gaara shirtless, she pushed him away from her before shoving him against the wall. Her hands roved over his body, as they kissed, feeling his pecs, his biceps, his tight abs. She could barely contain herself as he deepened the kiss; she moaned against his mouth, aching for more.

She wrapped her legs round his waist and he lifted her up, his hands supporting her ass. Still kissing each other, he carried her across his flat, which had Sakura not been otherwise engaged, she would have noticed had an open plan living area and was tastefully decorated in a classic style. Gaara placed Sakura down on the kitchen counter and made short work of removing her dress. His hands traced her slim waist and admired her breasts in her thin lace bra. Her nipples were poking through, jewel-hard and aching to be touched. He ran his fingers in small circles round them though the lace, earning a moan from Sakura. He reached round and removed her bra, freeing her perky tits. They were high and sensuous, centred by her stiff nipples. Gaara rubbed them between his fingers before gently trailing kisses down her neck and chest. He kissed the soft, creamy skin of her tits before running a tongue around her nipple. He continued to lick and kiss her nipples while Sakura was barely able to contain her joy. Without warning, he bit down on one of her nipples causing Sakura to cry out in pleasure.

Sakura could feel her own juices soaking her underwear as Gaara pulled her close and kissed her again. The feeling of his warm hands on her back and round her waist made Sakura want him even more, if that was possible. She reached for the buckle of his belt, longing to unzip his trousers and pull away his boxers. However, Gaara grabbed her hands and steadied her. He stretched her arms over her head, easily pinning her fragile wrists to the wall behind her with one of his large hands. It wasn't uncomfortable, in fact, Sakura found the sensation of not being in control surprisingly erotic. With his free hand, Gaara removed Sakura's thong and took in her bikini wax with appreciative eyes. She knew it had been worth it.

With a finger Gaara gently traced the outline of Sakura's soft lips. Her breathing hiked in anticipation as he stroked, savoured and teased every inch of her honeyed cleft. Eventually, he began to stroke her clit, slowly at first. Sakura let the sensations take over her body and as the movements of his fingers sped up, she began to feel waves of tantalising pleasure. Gaara eased a finger inside of her and continued his gentle movements. She bucked her hips against his hand and let out a moan, eager for more. He replaced one finger with two and slid them in and out of her with ease. Sakura was getting close. She felt Gaara slide a third finger inside her, the increase in friction stretching her. He continued playing with her clit, rubbing the sensitive nub between finger and thumb until Sakura could no longer contain herself. She felt her release building, and as her breathing picked up, she began to feel the wave of pleasurable sensations crashing round her. With a soft scream she reached her climax, her head thrown back and her lips parted slightly.

As the sensations subsided, he released her hands from behind her head and kissed her deeply. When he broke the kiss, and brought his hands close to her face, she licked and sucked on his fingers, savouring the taste of her own juices. She reached for his belt and fumbled with the buckle, before undoing the zip and pulling down his boxers, to release what lay beneath. Gaara removed the remainder of his garments and Sakura handled his hardened shaft. She paid particular attention to the tip, pulling the layer of skin over the end. He placed his hands on the indention of her trim waist and pulled her closer, while she continued to stroke his erection beneath her cool hands.

"I want you," she said, her voice a breathy whisper.
Only too happy to oblige, Gaara retrieved a condom from his trouser pocket which he rolled on with ease. He lifted her slightly by her waist and gently pulled her closer to him. She could feel his almost vertical length at her entrance and she moaned in anticipation as he eased himself in. He gave her a moment to adjust to his girth before moving in and out. Sakura moved her hips with his. She pulled him closer so their bodies were pressed against each other, her legs wrapped round his waist.

Without warning, he lifted her from the countertop and carried her out of the kitchen while she kissed his face. They entered what she presumed was his bedroom where he placed her down on a white kingsize bed and resumed what they had started in the kitchen, Sakura pushing his throbbing manhood into her warm sex. She rode him cowgirl-style for a while, pinning his wrists like he had done to her, until he flipped her over onto her back so he could thrust better.

Sakura wrapped her legs round his waist and dug her hands into his back, scratching with her manicured nails. She leant towards him, bucking her hips. She was now unable to keep her moans of pleasure quiet. They were both nearing their climaxes and she was sure she had broken the skin on Gaara's back. They came within seconds of each other: Sakura felt her breathing quicken and she let out an involuntary swearword as all the pleasurable sensations in the world filled her body.

Exhausted, she collapsed against Gaara's chest. Their bodies intertwined, each covered with a sheen of sweat. She breathed out slowly, letting her warm breath hit his skin.
"I thought you said you were a nice girl," Gaara said, "Nice girls don't fuck like that."
Sakura grinned, "Yes they fucking do." Gaara kissed her eyelash.

They stayed silent for a few moments, cuddled up together on the white quilt. He put an arm over her and drew her closer to him. Sakura enjoyed the proximity for a while until the alcohol and her post-orgasmic haze wore off and she realised the awkward position she was in. She could stay here and fall asleep, curled up with the sexy Gaara. But in the morning, they would be two naked strangers, both probably hungover. She couldn't fake intimacy. She began to extrapolate herself from Gaara's grasp and gather her things to leave.

"Sakura?" he said, "Won't you stay a while?"
"This was a mistake. I've got to get going, I've got work tomorrow," she replied as she slipped back into her underwear. Gaara seemed taken aback.
"Okay," he said, "Are you sure? You're more than welcome to stay,"
"I'm fine thanks. It's not like we owe each other anything; it was just sex," Sakura said, surprising even herself with her coldness.

And with that she swung her bag over her shoulder and left, strutting out of Gaara's apartment in her stilettos. As soon as she got home, she kicked off her uncomfortable shoes, pulled off her short dress and slipped into a comfy old t-shirt. With her makeup scrubbed off, she climbed into her bed alone. She wasn't Sakura the sex goddess. She was barely Sakura the underground fighter. She was just plain, pink haired Sakura Haruno; a high school dropout cast aside by Sasuke Uchiha. Screwing a hot guy wasn't going to change that.

Reviews appreciated :)