—
— Seductress —
Chapter four.
—
"When you believe you have reached the bottom of it.
Don't be mistaken.
Fight.
Because they might seek what's even deeper than that."
—
—
"Would you rather kiss me or let me kiss you?"
"Do not concern yourself over such a trivial issue, for all that matters is: When.
But really? I didn't think you'd want my lips on yours that badly."
Would this be a face-to-face discussion, I don't know how I'd have reacted. But when Aoi shows me the damn message, my eyes flare wide, and I have to read it over and over again to make sure my sight isn't failing me. My face flushes and my boyish roommate watches with delight the warm spectrum of color washing over my face.
Pink. Red. Purple.
I instantly crawl under my covers. "Don't even dare to pull it away," I warn in a muffled voice.
The first thing that pops up to my mind is: He had answered.
Then, comes in second: He said we were going to kiss.
His lips on mine?...
How the hell was I going to face him the next time we'd meet?
A weight saunters right onto me, heavily covering me.
"Misa-chi~," Aoi churrs. "Since when do you send that kind of texts~..."
I sense his sneer and shove the covers up, making him fall. Resurfacing in the thin air, I eye him from the height of my bed, kneeling on it as Aoi's flat on the floor.
With a broad grin full of smugness.
"Seriously, can I hit you?"
I don't know how, but he manages to make his grin widen.
"Ahhh, you really don't treasure your life, do you?" I start to menacingly step out of my bed.
He cowers, though his mirth doesn't. "Ehhh, no way..." His head hits his mattress. "If I'm not there, how will you even answer to... this?" He parades my cellphone in his hand. And he knows he's right, because I stiffen in my motion.
"... What?... Am I supposed to answer?" I ask lamely.
He nods gleefully.
I sigh dejectedly.
—
It's day Five into Usui Takumi's case. And I have yet to get decent shots of us. I eat my lunch with Aoi, and even if today is a week-end day, it's rare that we're both free to do as we please. We don't get any days off, technically speaking. I take the opportunity to ask Aoi for any advices, and possibly, get some men's insight on the situation.
"What did you just say?" I ask dubitatively, a cup of vanilla peanut butter ice-cream in hand.
He takes a scoop out of it. "A date. Public, like the theater. Hell, I don't know. Drink coffee, smile a bit and take his hand or something. Anything."
"Am I supposed to ask him out on a date just like that? Out of the blue?" I shake my head and reject the input. "He's not the kind of man that finds interest in women intently trying to lure him."
"Then, perhaps could you make him ask you rather than the opposite," he suggests. I consider it for a little bit before my lips tug up and curve into a sly grin because my phone flashes up with an upcoming text.
'Share a coffee with me. Can I pick you up?'
"Aoi," I say, standing up as if his words are the reason why I'm abandoning my dessert for the bathroom —though the purpose is to get some privacy. "You're perfect genius." I emphasize on the 'perfect' because Aoi likes getting his flattery colorful.
The door closes on him, but not before his canny "I know, I know," reaches me and I laugh at the misunderstanding.
I revert my eyes back on the phone and send Usui a message back.
'I'm afraid I am not necessary free.'
And his reply arrives right on spot.
'I'm afraid this wasn't a question. Should I trace your phone number and come pick you up?'
A ruffled gasp escapes me. What the hell? Can he really do that?!
'Tell me where and when. I'll be there.'
Luckily, he forgets about his threat and texts me back the location and time.
When I'm out and dressed —a fleeting white tunic with marine embroidery adorning the light fabric—, Aoi don't question me and paints my face with what he calls 'natural make-up'. I call Aren in the meantime.
He answers almost immediately.
"Yes, I'm ready," he says on cue. I smile, because this guy is truly reliable and prompt.
"I need a ride," and for good measure, I add, "a good looking ride, to be precise." I have to look the part of a rich heir, after all. I doubt Usui would find me attractive with a simple suburban for a car. He's a man, after all. Appearances matter, don't they?
"Of course, I'll be there in ten."
Ten minutes? I leave the condo right then anyway, to wait for Aren. When I reach the little and unkempt main gate, a sleek and shiny night-black BMW stops in front of me. Its luxure clashes so blatantly with its surrounding that I frown, and move aside because it can't be my ride.
It's such a gorgeous car though, and I longingly let myself be impressed by its allure.
A middle aged man clad in a coal suit steps out. Despite his demure expression, he exudes sophistication, with his silvery hair slicked back in perfection. He eyes me for a bit, and seeing that I'm not giving out any reaction to his looks, he paces around the car and smoothly pulls the passenger door open.
"After you, Miss Ravens." I frown at his polite prompt. I didn't expect Aren to be such an atypical person.
What if he weren't Aren?
I start doubting the man's identity before my eyes falls on the edge of a light blue handkerchief, concealed in his front suit's pocket.
"Aren?"
His head dips ever so imperceptibly. I quickly make my way inside the car, the smell of the fresh and creamy leather permeating the air. He makes sure I'm settled before he shuts the door, and the light suddenly dims inside.
Tinted windows, huh?
I smile. My expectations obviously got blown away by this fancy car.
The door to the driver's side opens and he slides inside. As soon as the door closes, we can finally talk without worrying about any curious ears.
"Such a fine car you've got here," I grin, before relaxing in the supple leather. "But I could've sat next to you, it feels weird here."
"You have to play your part to the fullest, Miss Ravens."
He says that without a glance, solely focused on the road like a great driver should've been. My heart constricts uncomfortably. I feel like a child playing a game I don't understand. Never once had I been catered as Aren is doing right now, and it feels wrong to my beliefs.
I look outside, roads passing in a blur as we speed up. I'm already lying to the world. I don't want to keep this charade in front of my co-workers too.
"Chances are, you won't even be seen by Usui Takumi. Don't you think it is unneccesary to worry so much about me sitting next to you?"
His features soften in the rearview mirror. "You will never know when being overcautious might come handy, Miss."
—
Half an hour of silence later, of wind whipping my cheeks as I stare at the country view, I slowly emerge from my daydreaming. Even though the wind feels great in the mild heat, the midday sun is burning my cheeks and I recoil back into the other corner of the car. We are driving down a dry and sandy roadlane, slithered along a large watercourse shore that shines under the sunlight.
It feels so far from the City.
"Are you leading the right way, Aren?"
"The Riverside was what you told me."
I glance at the sparkly river.
"I meant that as the restaurant or café."
Silence fills the air. He eventually replies with assurance after awhile, as if he had forgotten to answer to my question.
"I know that."
I worriedly look at my phone. And so far, I see no missed calls or messages. A sigh escapes my lips before I can take it back, and I stare at the distance. The lane curves away as if it were the lining of a coast.
"Do you see the inn there?" Aren asks, and I have to focus to actually notice the wood-like chalet lost in the middle of nowhere.
"Do you think it's there?"
"I'm almost certain. But if that's not it, I can always take you back home safely."
The way he speaks is almost fatherly, and I can't help but smile and thank Usui in my mind. Because without his existence, I wouldn't have met someone like Aren.
As we pull closer, the inn only grows bigger and more welcoming. It was nothing like the first impression I had glimpsed a moment ago. What seemed like a forsaken property was now a very well kept and clean establishment, the tone imposingly traditional and warm. Its architecture verging on the european culture made it look utterly authentic, especially with its natural surroundings.
The car slides in the vast out-door parking area and stops feet away from the entrance. I notice a lean —and dressed in black figure— stalling feet away, on a modern and sleek motorcycle matching with his clothes' colors. My curiosity is picked, and I remain still in the car as the stranger cuts the engine and takes his helmet off.
Huh?
Usui Takumi on a motorcycle?
He casually runs a hand through his unkempt blonde hair, taming the wild mess on his head. It doesn't do much, but hell, it's such a good move that it makes my mouth shamelessly gape in awe.
Though my mind seems to be all but confused at this revelation, my eyes can't help but fervently approve with the disheveled hair and casual outfit Usui Takumi has on.
Even in the simplest thick jeans and T-shirt, he was a sight for sore eyes.
Aren pulls my attention back to him.
"Are you ready?"
I tear my gaze from the window and take a deep breath. I'm concealed behind the tinted window, but as secure as I feel, sitting here won't solve anything.
"Yeah."
Aren comes out and pulls my door open —as a proper lady would expect. I step out and stare up at Usui, noticing his fixated gaze upon a spot over my head. As I reach closer, he snaps from whatever he'd been thinking about and focuses back on me. A slow smile spreads on his lips.
"Tell your driver I will take you back."
My eyes widen a bit, but I concede, turning around. One dismissive nod and my partner-driver leaves me there with a curt dip of his head.
When I turn back around, Usui's much closer than he had been. I step aside to righten the minimum appropriate distance between us.
We make such a contrast, I realize, as I stand by his side. His dark fitted shirt —that he fills so well— contours each plane of his svelte body, his rugged jeans adding to his sharpness. And here I am, standing in my fluttering white tunic, looking as fragile and soft as ever. My sandals are flat, and I silently curse myself for neglecting to wear heels. Needing the few inches back in order to look right into his amused eyes without having to tilt my head back, I straighten my posture instead.
It doesn't help much though.
His eyes darkens as they rake over me, seemingly pleased with the major height difference. His caveman trait breaks out as his hand spread out across the small of my back, pushing me towards the Inn. And somehow, the supposed lady I am impersonating likes being man-handed that way.
"Such a sweet sight you are," he leans in and chuckles. His voice is low and deep, and because he is tenfold more intimidating in his stark outfit, I can't help the shrill of awareness that courses me.
"Would you take it as a compliment if I returned you the same thing?" I nonchalantly asked.
He deliciously grins at my wits. If he hadn't let me down that harshly the day before, I would have laughed with playfulness. I quietly glance at his profile from the corner of my eyes, my makeshift smile in place, as he pulls the door and ushers me inside the diner.
An old woman comes immediately to welcome us. She fondly takes Usui in her arms.
"Dear! It's been so long!" She exclaims with a soothing voice before she glances at me. "And you brought a lovely woman here! Please, don't stay on the doorway, come and make yourself at home."
The way she speaks to customers is highly unsuitable in proper business. Akin to a motherly figure, she treats us like her children and is completely endeared by Usui as they speak together with content smiles. I eye him in a new day as I watch the conversation unfold, and though it is mainly her speaking, he seems genuinely worried about her well-being.
When she excuses herself to greet newcomers, I let a little smile linger on my lips.
"What is it?" He asks, my amusement reflected in his emerald eyes. My face clears on the spot.
"Well? It was unexpected, that is it," I say, and bite my lips before a grin can break free. He catches it though, and his gaze hovers there, suddenly smoldering with intent purpose.
'I didn't think you'd want my lips on yours that badly.'
I know we're both thinking of the same thing when I find my eyes skimming his lips. I avert my gaze on cue. Clearing my throat, I lean back.
"Anyway, I thought you wanted to drink coffee," I blurt whatever comes to my mind.
That was lame.
He leans back and gesture to the surrounding. I take in the wooden furniture, the window bays giving on the waterstream and notice several boats floating on the water.
"Do you really think this is the place for a coffee?" He asks in a conversational tone. "And I meant to share much more than a coffee with you."
I start to wonder what he's talking about. But then, he opens his mouth and I spill some leisurely sipped iced tea on the napkin at what he says.
"Plus, who would ever accept drinking coffee in a summer afternoon?" He mocks me with a pointed smirk.
—
"Merely a curiosity, but what is your line of work?"
My heart leaps in my heart at the unexpected question. It takes practice to skirt the dangerous questions that seem innocently harmless.
Those basics questions are the hardest.
I blush slightly, squirming in my seat with sheer innocence. He watches me intently, before smiling with easiness.
"It's alright, nevermind me." He says as if he steps back from the imaginary comfort-zone staircase.
As if it was my turn to hand my lines, I clumsily stammer. "No... Uh.. It's alright... It's just that I don't..." I hesitate, side glancing with shame. "I don't really have to work..."
Yeah, of course. In your wildest dreams, I laugh internally.
"Oh," he says, his eyebrows knitting because of my displayed distress. "I understand, there's no need to be so ashamed by that," he tries to reassure me with his words.
Or not.
"Though it reminds me of my mother. Never worked, and yet she's spending plenty."
His tone is light, but yet, heavy with meaning.
I'm confused by his behavior, and I let it show, turning my weakness into a weapon. Any gentlemen would've said something such as 'you wouldn't want to hurt those delicate hands' or 'that would make the firm go bankrupt as your co-workers would be too obsessed with you, had they have you at sight'. Even if they wanted to reprimand me, they'd do it sweetly, casually hinting that it was 'such a waste to lose such an asset for the business world'.
Certainly not by saying that I was alike to his mother he clearly despised.
He smiles as if the words he had just said weren't offending. I shakily smile back, uncertainty coating each of my features. One would think that I was on the verge of crying or whatever a pure and delicate soul would feel like at that moment.
But all I want to do is grab my fork and stab it into his arms. Several times, because he is such an insensitive jerk.
I think about the death of a character I appreciated in a romance novel and force some tears to wet the corner of my eyes. But I don't let them spill.
"Excuse me, I need... uh... restrooms."
Just as a damsel in distress, I slowly stand up with my satchel bag and keep my gaze on the floor until I reach the confine of the empty restroom stall.
I consider emptying the whole paper roll to squeeze it into a compact ball of fluffy furor —and eventually tear apart— but I don't. That would be wasteful, and wasting is something I'd rather never do. Instead, I take it on myself, clenching my hands and digging my nails into my palms until it burns.
When I no longer want to rip his golden strands of hair apart, to rip his skin from his bones, simply strike him with my mighty kick or even kiss him sensele—...make him kiss the ground senseless; I finally step out of the restroom.
I spot him paying the waiter. An elegant smile plays on his damned perfect face, smoothing his edges. He's handsome in suits, but in his casual clothes, he exudes a feral charisma that is even more powerful.
It irritates me that he can control others so well, and instead of going back to him as a good companion should, I swiftly decide to slip to the front door.
I bolt outside, and warm weather greets me along with stillness. The sun is still up in the sky, but begins to paint rose and orange streaks into the neverending blue.
Despite that lovely sky, no Aren in sight.
I turn and twist around, waiting for the relief of finding the sleek black car to ease my tensed muscle away. But it never comes. Only then, do I think of calling him. I see that I have one unread message; Aren, telling me to call him whenever I need him back.
Of course, he couldn't leave me here as he had to take the evidences. But only, where was he at that moment, to be able to take pictures at a good angle?
As I pace around, —thinking and fuming all at once—, my phone is held to my ear and I wait for Aren to answer. Instead of hearing his voice, I feel a hand curl around the nape of my neck, and before I can flee away, strong arms encircle my waist and hold me in a tight grasp.
"Who...—"
My body slams into a hard one. My feet dangle in the air, barely inches from touching the ground.
I start to yell, to shriek and struggle away before noticing those forest eyes gazing down at me.
My eyes make a pause, then drift a little lower on his face. His lips curls upward on one side, a devilish combination that flushes me and makes my beating heart flutter.
"Usui!? Let me go!" I loudly say in a panic, momentarily forgetting to keep up the good girl pretense. He growls that he won't until I explain myself.
"Why are you trying to leave without me?" He demands quietly and I struggle all the more at his sovereign tone. He has some nerves to ask me that after what he had just said!
I glare at him. He slowly licks his bottom lip.
I don't want to be so close to his damn lips!
Slamming my fists on his chest, I push onto it for distance. His hold doesn't waver nevertheless. Needing to stay as polite as possible, I avert my eyes from his face and look at the spot of grass beneath his sleek motorcycle wheel.
"Don't touch me..." I mutter with hardship, before I decide that shutting my mouth is the easier way out.
"Look at me."
"..."
"If you don't..."
"..."
"Fine."
Fine. What is?...
His firm lips crash down on mine, forceful with purpose. My phone is forgotten on the ground, bouncing on a spot of grass as Usui picks me up. He hauls me upon his motorcycle and begins to devour me with raw hunger.
Hot and soft lips.
His kisses are so hungry.
"Sto... U.. —Usui..."
I try to pull back, whipping my head aside. His jaw flexes in retaliation, rough fingertips coming to lock my chin back into place.
I whimper, eyeing him warily. My reaction makes him grin with delight. He knows how weak he makes me.
"Should I stop?"
My throat feels so dry I can't utter a single word when he asks me to do so. I'm frozen into place, and torn between nodding or shaking my head.
I can't escape him in my indecision and he seems to like this new dynamic playing out. His chest rumbles underneath my fingertips, and I realize that I've been pulling on his shirt feverishly until now. Bewildered, he makes the most of my shock and his tongue sensually teases at the corner of my mouth, before he bites down on my lower lips. He makes a low and husky sound when he pulls back and I unconsciously follow him, leaning in.
"Why stop when you want this?" he murmurs, his half-lidded stare watching me with unsated desire.
I feel on the edge, the many rational reasons of why to stop right on the tip on my tongue. And yet, they won't come out, because there are no thoughts in my mind. His mouth brushes against mine again, and when he gently flicks his tongue, I can't help but let him do as he pleases.
Who knew he only waited for me to do so?
Sweeping his tongue inside, he fervently strokes mine, and hums deeply.
Then, he takes me senselessly.
He makes my knees go weak. Makes my heart race hard. Sets my senses on fire.
"I finally caught you, my little cat," he rasps against the shell of my ear. I shudder, a breathless exhale leaving my lips. "And you won't escape until I say so."
I'm afraid I'm flying too close to the sun, but I can't help it.
Please, don't make me fall.
Please, dear heart of mine. Don't fall.
—
Author's note:
The pacing is a little bit (or a lot more actually) faster than my other story ;p
This time, I'm not ending it on a cliffy, or at least, it's not as bad as the last one!
I could say that I am sorry about the last cliff' but unfortunately, you guys pull the best of me, which is my sadistic streak! Huehuehue :P
Just kidding.
I love you, people. Sincerely, I'm glad that maid-sama still has that alive-community-fan here, it would be so lonely without you all! *~*