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 5
Sakura POV
It's my first day of work at my father's company. My first real job. And I couldn't be more uncomfortable if I tried, as I survey my office. Sure, it's no bigger than a closet, but it's an office. With a damn window. The window might overlook the parking lot, but it's still a window. Most new college graduates would be absolutely thrilled to have a setup like this, but not me.
I should be in a cubicle, but the fact that I'm my father's daughter has gotten me an office with walls and everything. I make a mental note to tell him later that I should be moved. People are already going to hate me enough, just because it's my father's company.
I can already tell it's a huge problem by the way my brand new boss Karin has treated me since I walked in the door this morning, her voice practically dripping with contempt when I introduced myself. Karin is Sasuke's domestic account manager, and I instantly know she hates me.
When I hear the knock on the door, I groan inwardly, steeling myself for her. "Come in."
It's not Karin. It's Sasuke.
Sasuke walking through the door on my first day is fucking perfect. Especially after I just saw him last night, when he was pissed off and angry and...sexy, the way he pulled me close to him, his hand wrapped around my fingers, practically threatening to kiss me.
No. I refuse to even let my thoughts go there. The past is the past. When you're eighteen years old, on your way to finally throw caution to the wind and sleep with the guy you like more than anything else in the world and you're intercepted by a girl he may or may not be screwing, that makes you feel differently about him.
Of course, it was damn hard to ignore how I felt about him last night, the way my heart raced and my breath caught in my throat when he pulled me toward him. Sasuke had the same effect on me back then. All along, I've discounted my memories of that summer, attributing my desire for Sasuke to the fact that we were eighteen and our hormones were crazy, but here I am, standing in front of him again, and it's like nothing has changed. He still irritates the shit out of me. And sends desire ricocheting through my body.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, crossing the room to shut the office door behind him. "It's my first day. I don't need any grief from you, Sasuke."
"2Sakura," he says. "Do you really think that poorly of me? I came bearing a first-day-at-the-office gift and coffee."
It's not even nine in the morning. I can't decide if I'm annoyed that he's in my office or pleased that he dragged himself out of bed to show up here. He's wearing a bright pink t-shirt that somehow has the opposite effect you'd expect from a pink shirt, making him look even more masculine than he did last night, which seems to be a ridiculously unfair trick the universe is playing. The soft cotton fabric grazes over his body, and I can see the outline of his chest muscles underneath. I have to force my eyes away, anywhere else but on his chest.
He has a box tucked under his arm, wrapped in royal blue paper and tied with a silver bow, and a coffee cup in each hand. He handed me one of the cups, and I take it apprehensively. "What's all this?" I ask.
"It's a peace offering," he says. "Three creams, two sugars."
Four years since I walked out of his life, and he remembers how I take my coffee? He's being way too nice this morning. I peeled off the lid of the coffee and sniff it, then look up at him. "Should I question whether it's been poisoned?"
Sasuke cocks his head to the side. "I'm horrified you even have to ask, darlin'," he says in that drawl of his, the one that practically drips with sex.
I can't help but laugh. "Sure, because you'd never spike my drink with anything."
"If you're referring to the moonshine incident, that happened four years ago, and I've matured since then," he says.
"You're claiming to have matured?" I ask. "Now I definitely don't trust you."
"You have to admit it was funny," he says. "And you were a lot more entertaining at my mother's event than you would have been otherwise."
"Oh my God, Sasuke, it was a charity event," I say. "A bunch of socialites didn't need to see me trying to do karaoke at a party where there wasn't even a band." At least Sasuke escorted me out of the room without causing an even bigger scene than I'd already made that night.
"I can hardly be faulted for what happened," he says. "If you recall correctly, I didn't exactly spike your drink. You stole mine, and it wasn't my fault it was leaded instead of unleaded fuel."
"What?" I shake my head. "You didn't stop me from taking it!"
Sasuke shrugs, but his eyes are bright. "Caveat emptor," he says. "Let the buyer beware and all that. How would I know you had less than zero alcohol tolerance?"
"Because I was eighteen," I say.
Sasuke smirks. "My tolerance was great, and I was eighteen."
"You were wild." I put the lid back on the cup and Sasuke watches me, chuckling. "I was innocent."
A slow smirk pulls up the corner of his mouth, and my hand trembles just seeing that smirk. I have to steady it with my other hand. "Not that innocent," he says.
The words are heavy, dripping with desire. Or maybe that's just the way they sound to me. I clear my throat to cut the tension between us. "Thanks, anyway, but I'll pass."
"You really aren't going to drink it?" he asks. "You don't have room to complain, not after what you did later to get me back. I mean, you went the obvious route, so you got zero points for creativity, but whatever."
"Laxatives in the coffee might not be that original," I agree. "But it was effective. You were running to the bathroom every five minutes, and that was good enough for me."
Sasuke sips from his cup. "I expected more from you, Sakura."
"Next time I'll try not to disappoint." When he brings his cup away from his mouth, I reach out and take it from his hand.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm swapping with you." I hand him my cup, and take a sip of his while he smirks.
"There is nothing in that," he says. "Cross my heart."
"Then you can go ahead and drink that one. But I'm glad you've turned over a new leaf," I say. "No more pranks."
"No more pranks," Sasuke says. "Of course not. We've both grown up. And I've vowed to behave appropriately."
"I'm glad to hear it," I say. I don't believe a damn word that comes out of that boy's mouth. Behave appropriately, my ass. I'm just glad he hasn't seen fit to strip naked right here in the office just for shits and grins. Okay, whatever, maybe I'm a little disappointed he hasn't seen fit to strip naked.
"And as a token of goodwill, I brought you a gift." Sasuke hands me the package.
A knock on the door interrupts us, and my bitchy boss storms in, her red hair pulled tight into a ponytail that makes her high cheekbones look even sharper. She's the kind of long-legged porcelain skinned girl you'd see on a runway, not in an office, but her attitude makes her appearance even more severe. "Sakura, HR is just a complete clusterfuck with your file, and they're up my ass instead of yours like they should be. Just because your father is who he is doesn't mean you -- oh."
"Karin, this is Sasuke – " I start, but she interrupts me with a look of scorn, immediately greeting Sasuke with a kiss on the cheek, before thrusting the file into my hands.
"Obviously I know Sasuke," she says, her hand tracing along his bicep, her fingers lingering just a little too long to be appropriate.
Irritation surges through me as I watch Karin touch him. "Of course," I say. "I didn't realize."
"Sasuke is a dear friend," Karin says, and the way Sasuke glances at me, I wonder if he's slept with her.
I struggle to maintain my composure, steeling my jaw. Of course Sasuke is Karin dear friend. I'm sure Sasuke has a million other dear friends.
It's totally irrelevant who he's slept with. I have zero claim on him. We fooled around years ago. And he's my stepbrother. I had a stupid teenage crush, and that's it. I'm not jealous, I tell myself. I just don't like Karin. To be more accurate, I didn't like her before. But now I'm starting to really hate her.
The bitch's voice breaks through my thoughts. "Fix your PR paperwork, Karin. If you can manage to fit that into your busy schedule," she says. "Sasuke, we need to talk about this weekend."
This weekend? Sasuke addresses Karin, irritation in his voice. "Karin, there's something I need to talk to Sa- "
"Vegas, Sasuke," Karin says curtly. She turns to me for a brief moment before returning her attention to Sasuke. "Your stepbrother and I are on a flight out to Vegas tonight, Sakura. Sasuke, we need to go through the schedule."
"Karin, I was in the middle of a conversation with Sakura, one I plan to finish," Sasuke starts.
"Oh, I'm sure it can wait," I interrupt. "Karin has a more immediate claim on your time, I think."
His eyes meet mine, and I look away, ignoring him as Karin steers him out of the office.
I set the package down on the desk, intending to leave it there, unopened, for the rest of the day. In fact, I should toss it in the trash. Leave it to Sasuke to have slept with my perfect-looking boss, the one who hates me enough as it is. And, what's worse, be going to Vegas with her.
I make it through the HR paperwork -- which takes all of thirty minutes -- and then sit there, staring at the gift box for another five minutes before I finally cave.
I lift the lid off the box gingerly, half-afraid of what's inside. Knowing Sasuke, it could be anything. When nothing jumps out at me and the box doesn't explode, I pull the lid off and set it aside.
It's a cock. Sasuke sent me a box with a freaking cock inside.
As a first day at the office gift.
I'm shaking my head and opening the note at the same time. I can't believe Sasuke had the balls -- pun intended -- to send me a fucking dick, of all things.
Sakura,
Since you couldn't admit what you really wanted last night, I thought I'd remind you.
P.S. It's a dildo made from a mold of my cock. Hn I know, it's awesome, right? If you're lucky, someday you might get to see the real thing.
P.P.S. The box is a TOOLbox. Get it?
I stared at it in disbelief. That fucker actually sent me a dildo made from a mold of his cock? I shove the lid back on the box like the entire thing is radioactive, and stare at it for a few minutes, before pulling it back off and looking at it again.
Holy crap. There's no way in hell that's Sasuke's actual, no shit, real-life dick.
I put the lid back.
It cannot be made from his cock. He picked up the dildo at an adult store.
Oh my God, what if it really is his? Pulling the lid off the box again, I touch my fingertips to the surface of the shaft, then jump back, like it's going to explode.
Don't be ridiculous, I tell myself. Sasuke did not have the time to make a mold of his cock.
There's only one way to find out. The thought jumps into my head. Now, that is an inappropriate thought. I slam the lid back on the box, and sit there, my palms flat on the top of it.
Five minutes later, I'm taking the lid off again and picking up the dildo. Just to see it. My hand can barely fit around the shaft. I tell myself I'm not doing anything wrong, that it's just a stupid joke, but there's definitely something dirty about picking up a dildo made from a mold of your stepbrother's penis.
What if it is his dick? Only Sasuke would keep a fucking cock-making-kit somewhere for handy access.
The over-the-top ridiculousness of the gesture hits me and I can't stop giggling. When I finally compose myself, I close the lid and tuck the box into the bottom drawer of my desk. Out of sight, out of mind.
Except for the fact that all day long, my thoughts keep drifting to that bottom desk drawer and what's inside. I'm sure that's exactly what Sasuke wanted -- to get me thinking about his tool.
Authors Note: Please vote on poll for octobers update
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
