Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Summary:

I call him "Tool" because he's a d*ck.Sasuke is nicknamed "Tool" because of what he's packing. Rumor is, he's well equipped.I wouldn't know. I've never had the pleasure.He's a cocky, entitled, insufferable a*hole who's as reckless with women as he is with that stupid motorcycle he races.He's also my stepbrother. Four years since he's made me so frustrated I could scream. Four years since he's given me that look, the one that makes me instantly wet.So it's just f*ing fitting that the first time I see him in four years, he's buried beneath three scantily clad blondes.Now I'm stuck here under the same roof with him while he recovers from a racing injury. An injury that clearly hasn't affected the use of his tool. The problem is, as much as I despise him, I just can't help myself. I want to find out what kind of tool he's working with.

Chapter 2

Sakura POV

"Well, now, as I live and breathe." Sasuke's voice reverberates through the room. I've spent four years trying to get that sound out of my head. His voice is low and gravely, with a hint of a drawl, the product of spending his formative years at a boarding school in Oto -- the boarding school was prestigious and pretentious, but Sasuke is anything but.

"Sasuke Uchiha." The words leave my mouth in one breath, heavy like an exhale. For a split second, seeing him there is almost enough to make everything else in here fade to black as if I'm looking at him with tunnel vision. It's the same Sasuke I used to know, with that arrogant smile that made me so angry and a body made for sin. Even back when we were teenagers.

Now, though…hell, I don't know that I've ever seen anyone that looks as holy-shit-hot as Sasuke does with his shirt off. When I last saw him, he had one tattoo on his shoulder, but now they snake around his forearms and biceps and cover his chest.

His very broad, very defined chest.

Sasuke used to be hot, but he's transformed into something else entirely. I've made a concerted effort to forget Sasuke Uchiha over the past four years, which is honestly pretty difficult when your stepbrother is a media darling, a sports figure the tabloids love. It involves going to extreme lengths: no looking at photo spreads in the sports magazines, shutting off the television interviews, ignoring the tabloid articles about Sasuke and whoever his girl-of-the-moment is, shrugging and changing the subject when friends want to know what Sasuke is like.

What Sasuke is like…The memory of my last night alone with him sticks in my head. It never leaves me. I've revisited it God knows how many times over the last few years, replaying it like some kind of movie.

Sasuke's lips are so close to mine that if I move even a millimetre, we'll be touching. And there's nothing more than I want on this green earth than to feel Sasuke's lips against mine. I want him more than anything…and that is exactly why I can't have him.

"Say it, Sakura."

"We can't."

"We can do whatever we want. Tell me you're mine."

Returning to Konoha is not supposed to mean coming back to Sasuke. Sasuke is the last person I wanted to ever see again. Out of sight, out of mind, right? But now, standing here…it feels like no time at all has passed between us.

"Sakura Haruno." He stands up and walks over to me. Limps over to me, to be more accurate. He has a boot on his foot, one of those things you wear after you've had surgery. I wonder what the hell happened. Knowing Sasuke, it'll be because he did something reckless on that motorcycle he races. He never was able to just race that thing, even when he was a teenager – it was always stunts, crazy shit, chasing the next adrenaline rush. And to Sasuke, a rush wasn't a rush unless it was death-defying.

I'm distracted from asking what happened by the fact that, aside from the boot, he's wearing not much else. Boxer briefs made of some kind of material that hugs his ass and his whole package, like it's a second skin. I force my eyes upward toward his face. It's hard not to look at…it. What he's packing. His Tool. That's what people call it. I used to call him the same thing, but for a different reason – because he frequently acted like such a dick.

His Tool is apparently legendary. I never got the chance to see it. The night I was supposed to meet him – the night it was supposed to happen between us – never happened. What can I say? Things were complicated between us from the first moment we met.

When Sasuke gets to me, he pauses, standing so close I can hear his breath and reaches out to push a tendril of wet hair away from my forehead.

Oh my God. My hair. My clothes.

My face flushes warm, and I know it must be bright red. For a split second, I'd forgotten I was standing here looking the way I look in the middle of this.

And now Sasuke is standing in front of me, looking the way he does – with a perfect body, being photographed next to equally perfect-looking models.

I want to sink into the ground, melt into a puddle of humiliation.

"You're wet," he says. His voice is low and deep and honeyed. The way the words roll off his tongue, long and languid, make them sound more sexual than if he'd told me to take off my panties right now. Electricity courses through my body, down to my fingertips, as the pad of his finger, grazes my skin.

I can't tear my eyes away from his. I swear I'd forgotten what his eyes looked like. They're this deep chocolate brown, flecked with gold and framed with lashes so thick they would make any woman envious. His lids are hooded, giving him this perpetually seductive look like he wants nothing more than to lounge around in bed all day.

He looks deeply into my eyes, and for a second I think we're the only two people in the room. For a moment, this is like a scene in a movie, the kind where the hero scoops up the heroine, bedraggled and soaking wet from the rainstorm, and kisses her in slow motion.

But my life is definitely not something out of a movie. I'm opening my mouth to respond to Sasuke when I'm cut off by the photographer, who's dressed head to toe in black and waving his camera behind Sasuke from across the room. "We have shots we need to get, please," he says, motioning impatiently toward the models.

Whatever moment was happening between Sasuke and me evaporates, so quickly I might have imagined it. "You should finish your shoot," I say.

Sasuke smirks. "You look like you'd like a hot bath."

Why does everything that comes out of his mouth sound like an invitation for more? I put that thought out of my head. Thinking about Sasuke – my stepbrother, for goodness' sake – that way is not good. It's not appropriate.

I look down at my wet clothes. "Yes. I need to clean up."

One of the models appears by Sasuke's side and places her hand on his bicep, jutting out her hip as she poses beside him. I recognize her from something – an ad, maybe – but I can't place it. She's tall and thin, with perky boobs and the kind of flat stomach I didn't think existed in real life. She wrinkles her nose as she looks at me, her expression unbridled disdain. That expression changes when she turns her focus back to Sasuke. "Sasuke," she says sweetly, "Is this your girlfriend?"

It's more than just an innocent question. I know that by the way, she touches him. She wants him; she's marking her territory.

Sasuke's eyes never leave mine, but with his other hand, he pats the hand that rests on his arm. "No, Ami," he says. "This is just my sister, Sakura."

Just my sister.

"Yes," I say, looking at Sasuke. "I'm just his stepsister. And I'm just leaving."

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige