He was nervous. If there was any emotion in the world Tohma hated more than anything it was feeling nervous. Having the feeling invade his senses meant he was not in control. Tohma hated not being in control. Lack of control over a situation not only made him nervous but left him feeling inadequate. He hated to think he could not control everything and everyone. The thought also exhilarated him like nothing else could.

And, right now, Tohma had every reason to be nervous. He had said something in front of a particular vocalist, something he should not have said in the first place, and his hands had become tied. Literally. A black silk scarf had been wrapped around his wrists then attached to a hook on the underside of his desk, partially hindering his movements and putting him on his knees. He had said it had been a fantasy of his, and that he'd like to try it just once. He couldn't back out. Not now. Not when it was going to become rather . . . interesting.

"Are you sure about this?"

He raised his head at the sound of the other man's voice. The singer sounded a little frightened and rather unsure about this course of action. Tohma had no doubts that he could back out of this arrangement, but he also knew he'd regret it if they didn't continue. His curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he wanted to continue.

"Yes," he confirmed, offering the singer his trademark smile. "I'm sure. I want you to do this."

"Okay . . ." The uncertainty still lingered in the vocalist's tone, but the fear, Tohma noticed, had disappeared. He was grateful for that small mercy. The last thing he wanted was for his partner to be afraid of what they were about to do.

Slender fingers touched his shoulders a few moments later then slid down his back, sending delicious little shivers running up and down Tohma's spine. He cursed to himself about the fact his shirt had not been removed prior to his hands being bound, but Tohma also knew there was nothing for it. He and his unexpected partner were still in his office, during working hours, so there was always the possibility of the two of them being caught in this rather . . . private act.

Having someone walk in on them was another thought that thrilled the blonde.

The chances of he and his partner being caught in such a compromising situation were slim, however. Tohma had given his secretary a very firm and direct order that he was not to be disturbed by anyone, not even by his wife or by his novelist brother-in-law. This act was to be between him and the one currently touching him. To have someone catch them would be rather disastrous so Tohma had taken the steps to ensure their privacy, and he was glad that he had. The singer's hands had become bolder, rubbing over his back and gliding to the front, ghosting over his nipples and slowly increasing the intensity of his pleasure.

Eventually, those hands traveled lower, dancing along Tohma's waistline and dipping in between the fabric and his flesh. The digits were warm and alive, creeping lower to the one place where Tohma desperately wanted to be touched.

The hand touching him had almost reached their intended target, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from Tohma, when someone started to knock frantically on his office door. From the other side, Sakano's voice could be heard.

"Shacho? Shacho, are you in there? I have terrible news! Shindou-san has disappeared!"

Behind Tohma, said vocalist buried his face into the blonde's shoulder and groaned. Tohma had to fight back a groan himself. Sakano's wailing had killed whatever desire he'd been feeling for the singer, and the president vowed to himself the next encounter would have to be after business hours, so they wouldn't be interrupted like this again.

And there would be another encounter with Shuichi. The singer was now curious about the blonde's little fetish. Tohma just knew it.