Men of the Sea
Chapter 1
This.
It wasn't meant to happen.
She moves her head a fraction against his bare chest. She thinks to herself that he feels warm and safe as he puts a hand upon her exposed hip. She inhales slowly. He smells of clean laundry and sunscreen and the ocean.
Vaguely, she remembers him mentioning surfing at the beach early that evening before she "bumped into" him at the bar off the pier. The sunscreen made sense. It was familiar. It smelled good.
It smelled like him.
Him
She wasn't supposed to see him again.
Kisame.
He was a nobody. A guy with a great body that spent his days absentmindedly at the beach and in the water. He mostly surfed and rarely did much else, or so he proclaimed on their first encounter. While she, on the other hand, was engaged to the second son of the largest tech company in the world, Uchiha Enterprise. And yet, here she was. Back in Kisame's arms.
She slightly moves her head. The small hairs on his chest scratch against her cheek as she does so. It feels nice. She wonders why he shaves his chest at all? What was the point? But she is sure he has a reason.
Kisame moves with purpose.
Like Sasuke Uchiha.
Her fiance.
She should get up, she mentally reasons to herself, not at all awake but more awake than asleep. She shifts slightly, meaning to ease her way out of his warm arms, away from his muscular body. Only, he shifts too. He probably sensed the lost warmth of her body. And despite the early morning heat, he misses it. Or maybe that's just her thinking highly of herself. "Per usual", as Sasuke would say. Nevertheless, she is back where she started. Comfortably in his grasp.
Just like the first night, she doesn't want to leave. Doesn't want to resist.
But this man and his apartment is only a blip of fantasy within her world. She can't ignore her responsibilities forever.
As if on cue, her cell phone rings. She doesn't have to pick up her device to see who it is. It could only be Ino Yamanaka, her coworker that had come along with her on this business trip. Sakura never made it back to their hotel last night. Of course Ino would call her.
Sighing, she mentally takes a second to brand the sensation of Kisame's arms, his body, and his essence into her mind. Then she begrudgingly forces herself out of his hold. Of course, he groggily regards her with a start. "Leaving?" he asked, his voice deep and husky and delicious and-'Oh for Pete's Sake' she mentally muses as he pulls her back against his rock hard psychic.
"Yes, I have work." "Stay for five more minutes." Sakura laughs. It's easy to laugh with him. Easy to be herself. She never laughs like this back at home in Tokyo. She doesn't smile at all when she's with Sasuke…
"I have to go." "You need to eat breakfast." He reasons, his eyes still closed but his expression concerned. She opens her mouth to fight him on the issue, but as if on cue her stomach grumbles.
She blushes.
He smiles.
Victory.
Dark eyes opening, he regards her. "I'll cook for you." She laughs as he easily shifts her where she is now in reach of a chaste kiss on the lips. She continues to laugh as her lips are on his. He pulls away, seeming to be fully awake now.
The sun glitters through exposed cheap plastic blinds and upon her large diamond engagement ring.
They both blissfully ignore it.
After ten minutes of playful kissing and innocent touching, they both inch out of Kisame's soft bed.
Eventually, Kisame is indeed making breakfast. Sakura calls back Ino.
"I'm fine," she says over the phone, a soft smile still on her lips.
"Are you sure? You didn't answer your phone right away… When does that ever happen? Say 'Oreo' if you're being kidnapped." Sakura rolls her eyes. Ino was always one for the dramatics. "Ino, I told you, I'm fine. More than fine, actually. I'm getting breakfast." "Oh! What joint? I'm starving. I'll meet you there."
"Sorry! It's a secret." Sakura said while eyeing her gorgeous though forbidden bedmate.
"Stingy," Ino muttered. Though based on her tone Sakura knew her blonde coworker did not take it to heart. "When should we link up? We'll need to discuss notes before our business meeting." Sakura bit her lower lip. "In an hour or so? I'll be back at the hotel." "Sounds fine to me," Ino said. "Great. I'll see you soon."
Sakura hangs up her phone and no sooner her Surfer beau is suddenly wrapping strong arms around her midsection from behind. He kisses the top of her head. "Will I see you again?" he asks against her hair.
His voice is hopeful. It stirs something within her. Happiness, longing to see him again despite not having even left yet, desire, and sadness.
"No."
"Because you're engaged?"
Her heart drops. But she knows that there is no way he could not have noticed the large diamond ring on her finger. This is a conversation they were bound to have had at some point.
Realistically speaking, it was a conversation they should have had in their first encounter.
"Yea…"
"Lucky guy."
Sakura can't help it. She snorts. "He doesn't care about me. It's only duty that binds us." The pink haired woman turns around, though Kisame doesn't let her go. "He actually hates me. Though, it wasn't always that way. I've known him my entire life. It's was in high school that our dads, who have been friends for as far back as they can remember, explained to us that they agreed to do an arranged marriage between the two of us." "People still do that?" Kisame chuckled amused, but also, interestingly enough, annoyed.
"Apparently," Sakura says with a shrug. "We were vehemently against it. But...something changed. And I knew I could not dispute it. My fiance, he thinks I'm weak for not putting up more of a fight. He thinks I'm selfish." "Are you selfish?" "In some ways. But I don't love Sasuke. And I don't want to marry him. Honestly, I don't even like him on most days. I haven't seen him outside of work in almost a year." "But you're going through with the marriage?" She nods. "It's beyond me." "Run away with me. Let's elope." She pats his chest. He meant it as a joke, but her heart is still fluttering. "I'll make you happy." He states with a wiggle of his brows. She laughs. She still isn't used to the sound. "You don't know me."
"I very much would like to." He admits, almost hesitantly.
"You probably would hate me once you got to know me." It's a whisper, but he seems to have heard it anyway.
"I bet you a million dollars I wouldn't."
She blinks. Almost alarmed at the caring look in his eyes. She pulls away. He suddenly seems embarrassed. "I like you," he admits slowly.
Well, she figured he didn't hate her like Sasuke did, if he had sex with her… Twice now in the last few days. "Let's eat," she responds. Not able to address his confession. What good would it do? She obviously liked him too. But this wasn't real. Soon she would leave Australia and be heading back to Japan. Soon she would be back to her boring existence living in her one bedroom apartment and wondering if this was truly how her life had become? Working at a good paying job that she didn't love but wouldn't leave. Engaged to a pretty boy billionaire that hated her guts.
She was alone.
Depressed.
Miserable.
No matter how happy and content she was with Kisame, in his apartment… This fling with him was a fantasy. It wasn't real. He must feel it too.
He kisses her cheek and doesn't press her.
Their time is precious. He wouldn't waste it fighting her.
"I hope you like ham, green pepper, and cheddar omelets." She sits across from him as she watches him finish up within his moderately sized kitchen that is dwarfed from his towering 6' 6" form. All 300 muscled pounds of it.
"Anything you make will be scrumptious," she says with a grin, still drinking him in as he moves about his kitchen. A dirty pan, cutting board, and a knife is moved into the sink. Two plates with omelets and rye toast are set at the table. He gives her coffee and gives himself green tea.
"Enjoy, Yuki."
Her name is an alias. She can't afford for him to find out who she truly is. She can't risk for him to contact Sasuke. Or blackmail her from sleeping with him, even though she knows he wouldn't do that. But once the lie of her name had been spun, there was no turning back. And again, who cares?
It only emphasizes the fantasy aspect of their relationship. This is meant to be temporary.
After this morning, she won't ever seem again.
Later she will muse that with most things in life one can never account for the unpredictable.
"More coffee?" He asks her, his expression pleasant.
"Yes please," she says, moving her cup closer to him so that he can pour more into it with ease.
One can never account for the unpredictability of men.
Especially men of the sea.