Men of the Sea
Chapter 2
Kisame's POV
He's hooked and he knows it.
Solemnly, he watches her leave through the front door of his apartment. All white dress and pink wedges with waist length thick pink hair. Naturally pink hair, he must emphasize. She's beautiful and he knows that he will probably never see her again.
It frustrates him to acknowledge as much.
She doesn't offer him her number and he doesn't ask. After all, she is getting married. So what if she doesn't like the Bastard? Doesn't change the fact that she's still engaged. He sighs as he clears the table. Her coffee mug still warm.
Yuki…
He knows it's not her real name. She introduced herself with hesitance, as if unsure if she should give the lie. But he isn't owed her real name. He's just some random guy with enough charm to seduce her. So he didn't press the matter. Didn't even react in a way to let her know that he had caught on.
He dries the last plate then saunters back to bed. He isn't tired but doesn't feel like doing much else. With Yuki gone, the delight of company has worn off. He lies in his bed with a dramatic fall and sinks into the warmth of the numerous blankets that are upon it. Turning his head to the side, he glances through his large bay window outside. The sun is out and the sky is clear. A perfect surfing day.
Too bad he wasn't in the mood.
He turns his head within his pillow, the sunshine only putting him in a bad mood. And in doing so, he catches the scent of her shampoo. It's sweet with a hint of melon. His mouth waters despite himself. He wants to see her again. Even if it's platonic.
That's a lie.
He wants her fully for himself. Engagement be damned. But instead, some ungrateful asshole was going to have her for himself.
She thought it was responsible to move on from Kisame. To keep him and her "real" life separate. He could see the logic, but he disagreed with it.
He growled within his pillow. Damn, he was in deep.
He was in love.
And he didn't even know her real name.
How was he going to find her!? He'd help her see reason if he just knew where she was. Even if it sounded crazy, he needed her to know that she should pick him. Surely she could feel what he felt?
Desire.
But beyond the depths of infatuation and lust. He cared for her. He wanted to understand, learn, and fully know her. Her fears, her hopes, her dreams, her desires. He wanted to support her. He wanted…
A cellphone rang.
A phone that wasn't his.
He grinned.
Well, he'd take this as a sign from the universe.
Pushing himself out of the comfort of his bed, he entered his kitchen. And there, upon his counter, was a pink phone. "Ino" displays on the caller id with a picture of a pretty blonde with a bright smile. He debates answering it. But realizes that Yuki, or whatever her name is, is very much engaged. He didn't want to evoke a scandal in her life by allowing for this Ino person to know that she was with him this morning, and very obviously last night. The call subsidies. But Kisame does not put down the phone.
Instead, he goes through it. He's surprised there aren't codes on her phone. Everything is open for him to sort through. Emails, social media, everything.
Sakura Haruno.
"Hm, fitting name," he muses aloud.
'Works for Uchiha Enterprise, is a black belt in Brazilian Jiu Jutsu, enjoys strawberry ice cream, just bought a pricy loft…' "Busy gal." Though he had no doubt. Sakura did not seem like the type of girl to just sit around. She had too much fire in her. To much passion.
Even if it was just a taste…
He enjoyed it.
Seeing her, experiencing it. In bed, at the bar, over breakfast.
He will see her again.
He'll make sure of it.
Sasuke POV
"Ne, Uchiha-Sama, your phone is ringing." He turns in bed and shrugs the hand on his shoulder away. "Uchiha-Sama." The woman persists. 'Who is in my apartment?' he thinks to himself. His head is thundering. Last night he drank too much again. "UCHIHA-SAMA."
She's persistent, he muses with furrowed brows. Her voice is intensifying his headache.
Bitch.
He reluctantly cracks open an eye and sits upright. An onslaught of light overwhelms him. He puts up a hand to shield his face from his open windows. "Fuck." He hisses. His receptionist doesn't take the hint to close the curtains and instead hands him his cellphone. He gazes at her momentarily, red lingerie with matching stockings stands before him. She is wearing her thick black rimmed glasses too. Not as a prop, but because she's fucking blind.
He finds it sexy even though her face isn't all that cute. Snatching his phone he sees a number he doesn't recognize. Taking one more look at his receptionist, he answers it. Few people have his cellphone number. It could be important.
"Hello?" His voice is scratchy. He obviously sounds like he just woke up.
"Sasuke."
He feels his face sour. "I lost my phone in a cab. I'm just calling you to let you know in case you need me." "Why would I need you?" His tone is nasty, even to his own ears. "I'm out for business. We do work for the same company," she responds, her voice calm. She doesn't get riled up by his antics of remarks anymore. Sometimes he isn't sure how he feels about that. "I'll be getting a new phone today. But I thought I'd call you in case there are any pressing developments I should be aware of. Ino will be with me for most of today. So your people can contact us through her phone."
Getting the sense of the call better, he straightens upon his bed. Kicking his legs over the side of the bed he scratches his head. "You still have your laptop?" "Yea." "I'll email you if there's anything. Please tell me you started using a passcode on your phone?" "On everything important. No work related content can be breached." He sighed. "Good."
"I'll be getting off the phone now. But I'll see you in a week or so." A week? She got home tonight. Not that he cared. He hadn't seen her outside of work in almost a year. Or was it over a year? He couldn't keep track anymore. But that meant she wasn't going to be at work for a few more days. Why?
He was admittedly curious. But he wouldn't pry. He didn't want her to think he cared about her or anything. "Fine," he said with a yawn. Sasuke didn't bother waiting for her to respond. He hung up.
"Was it Sakura?"
He nodded while rubbing his eyes. His head was killing him and he still felt tired. He glanced at the time on the clock that resided on his bedside. He couldn't risk staying in bed any longer. He told his father he was going to come in today at the office and discuss a few business matters. His older brother, Itachi, was going to inherit the company. It went without question. But Sasuke still had responsibilities to attend to.
"I need coffee."
The receptionist, Carol? Hiyori? Janet? He couldn't remember her name, handed him a coffee within seconds. He drank the hot scalding liquid within a few hungry gulps. He liked the way the potent drink burned him. She took the empty mug from his hands and gave him a reluctant kiss on the cheek.
Her lips were soft.
Sasuke reached over and grabbed her by her thin wrist. He leaned back, bringing her down with him. She made a sound of surprise, dropping his empty mug on the floor. Her body was now flush against him.
"Uchi-" He kisses her. And she lets him. Sometimes he wonders about his behavior. He's engaged. He shouldn't be sleeping around. But then, he figures why not sleep around? He wasn't sleeping with Sakura. He didn't want to marry her. It was her fault that they were engaged.
She knew he wouldn't go against his father, and she refused to go against hers. Selfish.
Selfish.
SELFISH.
He rips his receptionist's lingerie off. She doesn't stop him. He grabs her breast and pulls off his boxers. "Y-You'll be late."
"I know what I'm doing."
Grace? Ai? Lee? Turns away from him. Her face is red with embarrassment. He loves the effect he has over women. How they squirm and feel desire and do whatever he wants of them.
Sakura doesn't.
Sakura does whatever she wants. And he hates her for it.
His receptionist closes her eyes. "Uchiha-Sama," she says, her voice trailing off as his fingers press against her womanhood. He's hardly done much and she's already ready for him. He kisses her throat.
Submissive.
A treat.