"Shall we go?"
The instant the words left her mouth, she wanted to grimace. She sounded high-pitched and breathless, as if she had just run a marathon, and ever-so-faintly, Tsuruga Ren's dark brow quirked. It was the only change in his expression that she picked up on, and she wondered if he suspected anything amiss.
"Are you all right?"
Great. She forced a smile, her heart beating so rapidly that she feared it would burst from her chest.
"Of course," Kyoko affirmed quickly. "Why?"
He cocked his raven head to the side, watching her wordlessly from the doorway. His hair was no longer tousled as it had been the last time she'd seen him, but was slicked immaculately back from his forehead in glossy ebony waves. Gone was the casual boyishness from that day; he looked exquisitely put together with a blended wool-and-cashmere topcoat over a charcoal three-piece suit.
"You look flushed," Ren said mildly. "Are you sure you're fine?"
"Oh." Kyoko shifted her weight. "Yeah. I was doing some, uh, home workouts. Gotta stay fit, and all that." She flashed him another sunny smile despite her drumming pulse. "Just give me a second. I'll rinse my face."
He returned her smile, the warmth in his expression melting her insides as it always did. "Go ahead."
It was extremely uncomfortable walking with a toy up inside her, and it took tremendous effort to keep her strides casual while she hurried to the bathroom. It wasn't the first time she had to watch her gait in front of him, and she wondered despairingly why she was always in a predicament like this.
There was no time to try to retrieve the vibrator from where it was lodged so firmly within her. That would take too long, and her face would flush further from her efforts. The last thing she wanted was to arouse more suspicion, and she turned on the faucet, listening to the fierce gush of water.
Why the fuck had she experimented with the vibrator shortly before he was set to arrive to pick her up? She was an idiot.
A total, complete idiot.
Ren was right. Her heart-shaped face was bright pink in the mirror, and she splashed cold water onto her flaming cheeks, trying to regulate her breathing. Everything was going to be fine, she told herself. There was no harm in walking around with something similar to a tampon inside her, and judging by how it was staying still, the device had been successfully switched off. There was no reason to panic. The mild discomfort of its intrusion aside, she could still spend the evening having dinner with Ren.
He had already promised he wouldn't touch her that way again. Things were supposed to be platonic between them now. She had been the one who had taken the trouble to enforce that rule, and she wasn't going to break it. If she did, it would be nothing less than humiliating, and she affixed her reflection with a grim look of resolve.
Twenty seconds later, she was rushing out of the bathroom, her blouse and skirt smoothed down. Ren remained by the doorway, and he glanced up from his iPhone with a half-smile at her. She beamed back, mentally berating herself for not having offered him a seat. Still, it would have only besmirched his branded suit and coat to touch any of her ratty belongings.
"I'm ready, Tsuruga-san," Kyoko announced, grabbing her smartphone and wallet from the foldable table. Wanting to take her backpack, she remembered what she had hastily stuffed inside it earlier, and she blanched. There was no way she could open it up in front of him now. Stuffing her phone into the pocket of her skirt, she was about to do the same for her peeling leather wallet when a large hand curled around her slender wrist, freezing her motions.
"You don't have to bring that today." His voice was deep and husky in her ear, and he was so close that she could smell his signature cinnamon scent. A pleasant shiver ran down her spine, and the calloused pads of his adroit fingers reminded her of another part of her body they had caressed days ago.
"I–I can't just leave the house without my wallet," Kyoko protested with a shrill squeak.
"Why not?" He sounded polite and curious, as if he was inquiring about the weather.
"I mean, it's dangerous, Tsuruga-san." She gave a strained laugh. "I can't just walk out and about without a cent on me."
"You'll be with me at all times until I drive you home later," he said gently. "I won't leave you in any danger."
She bit her lip. She didn't doubt his promise, but that wasn't the point. Not bringing her wallet meant she wouldn't be paying a penny for anything tonight, and while she remembered she wasn't contractually allowed to negotiate or protest about any expenses incurred with him, it didn't unnerve her any less. How was she to phrase her objection without breaking the contract?
"Um…" She loosened her hold on the wallet, letting it fall with a thump on the table. "What if you misplace your credit card, Tsuruga-san? Then we'd both have no money to pay for dinner. We'd go to jail, and I definitely don't want that on my record. Or yours."
He laughed. "Then I'll use my phone to pay."
"But what if—"
"I lose both my phone and card?" he finished dryly. "Then I'll call my secretary—either through your phone or the one at the restaurant—to process the payment for me."
"But what if your secretary—"
"—is unavailable? Then I'll contact my housekeeper."
She deflated, giving up. "Right."
Ren didn't say anything more, just continued watching her with an amused little smile on his lips. Fighting the childish urge to strangle him, she said at last, "Fine. I won't bring my wallet. But only on one condition."
His brows furrowed. "What is it?"
She gestured at him. "Can you bend a bit towards me, Tsuruga-san?"
The furrow between his brows deepened with bemusement, but he obliged, leaning forward until he closed the height difference between them, and his beautiful face was inches away from her own. Forced to meet those magnetic eyes, she reached out and boldly ran a hand through his thick raven hair, tousling it with her fingers.
"There," Kyoko said with satisfaction, ignoring his perplexed expression. She liked him much better with mussed hair—he felt more human, more boyish, and more touchable this way. The tremendous gap between them, be it of wealth or class, seemed to have shrunk by a smidgen. It was all she could do given that his attire and Rolex could not be addressed so easily.
The corner of Ren's lips ticked upwards. "How do I look?"
"You look cute now," she said unthinkingly, then flushed. "Not that you looked bad before, just…"
"I should hope not," he said, "considering I was in and out of meetings the whole day." Straightening up, he smiled affectionately at her, seemingly oblivious to her chagrin. "Shall we go, Mogami-san?"
She nodded, casting a final furtive glance at her beaten-up old wallet. It would mark the first time in her life that she had ever left her apartment without it, and her stomach roiled with trepidation and unease. But that wasn't the only emotion, and as she accepted Ren's offered hand, his larger and longer fingers overlapping her own, she realised what else she felt.
Liberation.
The feeling didn't last long.
Every hope she'd had that things would go smoothly sailed right out of the window as she sank into the expensive leather seat of the Bugatti. Sitting down, her predicament, which she was starting to get used to, became so much worse.
The adult toy seemed to be pushed further into her the instant her backside met the seat, and she just about managed to stifle a yelp as the sensation of the invading object grew tenfold inside of her. Sucking in a deep, quavering breath, she maintained a neutral mien as the door to the driver's seat opened on the other side of the automobile, and Ren slid in gracefully beside her like a cat.
It was fine. She was going to be fine. She had to believe that, even if it felt like there was a poker up her insides. She couldn't find anything arousing about the experience at all; her anxiety was only tightening her up inner muscles and making the presence of the toy increasingly uncomfortable within her. Without making a sound, she drew another steadying breath inside the Bugatti, greedily inhaling the smell of leather and the lush woodsy notes of Ren's cologne in the air.
"Mogami-san?"
Kyoko raised her head jerkily towards him, her heart thrumming wildly away. "Yeah?"
The mild furrow was back between his brows, but this time, it was of concern.
"Are you cold?" Ren asked gently, adjusting one of the knobs on the sleek metallic dashboard. "You look a little stiff."
She immediately waved both her hands with affected nonchalance. "I'm fine! Please don't worry about me."
He studied her for a suffocating fraction more, then smiled. Leaning toward the steering wheel, he began to shrug his topcoat off his broad shoulders. She blinked seconds later as he laid the blended wool-and-cashmere garment over her hunched body—if his scent had marked the interior of the car, it was now all over her like a warm, heady blanket, making her dizzy.
"Th–thank you," Kyoko pushed out, not knowing what else to say as she gripped the edges of his branded coat. It probably cost more than her monthly rent, and her belly turned just thinking of it.
He smiled faintly again at her, adjusting and snapping the chic silver cufflinks on his sleeves before turning his attention to the wheel. Minutes later, they were out on the open road, the sports vehicle purring silkily through the evening traffic. She clutched fistfuls of Ren's oversized coat, feeling safer and more secure underneath it. He smelled good too, and this time, she felt stirrings of heat gather unexpectedly between her thighs, right where the toy was embedded.
She bit the inside of her cheek, horrified by her perversion. Deciding she needed a distraction pronto, she said thickly, "So where are we going tonight?"
"For dim sum," he said. "Would you be fine with that?"
Her jaw dropped. Fine with that? She absolutely loved dim sum; Kanae had once spotted a weekend two-for-one discount at Peach Garden, a Chinese restaurant downtown, and she'd invited Kyoko along to have lunch there. Kyoko had absolutely adored her first and only experience at a dim sum buffet, and she'd snapped pictures of everything, including the savoury dumplings, spring rolls and sweet, fluffy egg tarts that had gone marvellously with hot chrysanthemum tea. She had uploaded the photograph montage on her Twitter, and every now and then she'd retweet the post to relive the memory.
"Yes," Kyoko said emphatically, her hazel eyes wide. "I'm more than fine—this sounds amazing, Tsuruga-san! You have no idea how much I love dim sum. Are we going to Peach Garden?"
The last time she had checked, Peach Garden no longer had a two-for-one discount for their buffet. But if the discount was back, she would feel a lot better about the meal tonight. Although it had breached her budget to even split half the discounted bill with Kanae, it was still way, way cheaper than the last meal she'd had with Ren.
Her stomach sank as he shook his head.
"We're headed to a favourite restaurant of mine," Ren answered, his long fingers curling deftly around the gear stick as his Bugatti sped up with an announcing purr on the empty lane. "I haven't been there in a while, and I wanted to check it out again."
What she really wanted to know were the prices. Ren seemed to have very expensive tastes, most likely because he could afford to, and she had a feeling the meal at his favourite restaurant would cost an arm and a leg. While Kyoko knew what she had signed up for, she still wasn't accustomed to it, and she wrestled the urge to nibble her lip.
She could obviously see the benefits a 'sugar baby' got out of their arrangement, but what was she offering Ren other than her company? She was far too socially inept to provide him with insightful conversation, and she had told him she didn't want their relationship to turn sexual, at least not yet. So what was Ren getting out of this dinner?
"Don't go there."
His deep velvety-rich murmur ripped her out of her stupor, and her copper head snapped towards him, her lips parted in surprise. She didn't know how long she'd been lost in thought, but the traffic light had turned red, allowing him to study her thoughtfully through the lull.
The sides of his beautiful mouth rose, and she went rigid as he let go of the wheel before reaching out to tenderly brush aside a wayward strand of hair on her forehead.
"That place in your head," Ren said softly, smoothing the frown in her forehead with his warm thumb, "that makes everything much more convoluted than it has to be."
She felt her cheeks heat. Even after he let go, the brief touch remained branded into her flesh, and she stared down with exaggerated interest at the coat on her lap.
"Sorry," Kyoko managed, flustered by how transparent she had been. "I know we agreed to the contract and everything. I just, uh…" She raked her fingers restlessly through her shoulder-length hair. "I guess I need time. I still tend to overthink."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked quietly.
"It's fine," she said at once. "I—"
She froze, her unfinished sentence hanging in mid-air, and she met Ren's quizzical dark eyes in the rear-view mirror before she doubled over in her seat and cried out.
"Mogami-san?" Ren's voice was sharp with concern, but she was too overwrought to pay him any heed.
It had come out of nowhere: a slew of powerful vibrations spearing through her nether muscles like lightning. With her sitting down, the sensations were completely heightened through her system, and she tipped compulsively forward from the seat, her toes curling as her vision whited out from the wicked pleasure.
The onslaught eventually tapered off, leaving her a panting, quivering pool of mush, her fingers grappling the topcoat as if it were her lifeline. She breathed in Ren's rich scent of cinnamon and woodsy smoke, and shivered at the spark of lust it elicited, her sex pulsing gently between her legs. It took every iota of willpower she had not to moan aloud, and she knew her panties were getting wet.
Shit. She hasn't been close to an orgasm, but if the vibrations had persisted, she would be. It was just as she had feared: the remote control, with the crack in its exterior, had been damaged when she'd dropped it. Pressing the off switch hadn't worked, but the toy hadn't moved for so long that she'd assumed it had been turned off. Just how erratic was the 'erratic' function supposed to be? Was it meant for women who wanted to dance around an orgasm all day?
A warm large hand touched her diminutive shoulder, making her jump, and she darted her eyes towards Ren, whose attention was back on the road. They were speeding down a highway now, and he kept his other hand on the wheel as he continued driving. She was glad he wasn't looking at her face; having brought her to orgasm before, she feared Ren might recognise the tell-tale signs of her arousal.
"How are you feeling?" he inquired levelly.
"Fine," she squeaked, her complexion scarlet with shame and mortification. "I'm fine. I'm sorry about just now. I, uh…"
What could she say? Her brain scrambled frantically for an excuse, but found none.
"There's a clinic nearby," he said. "It's only five minutes away. We can—"
"No!" Kyoko almost dropped his designer coat in horror. The last thing she needed was to go to a clinic and endure another attack from the adult toy in front of a doctor. There was only so much humiliation she could take. "There's no need!"
His eyebrows rose, and upon seeing his reaction, she babbled on. "I'm just having, um, some bad p–period cramps." Her face burned even more, but she knew this excuse was still less embarrassing than the truth. "I already took some painkillers, but they need time to take effect. It's not something I have to see a doctor for."
Ren glanced at her unfathomably, and even despite her situation, a naughty part of her involuntarily clenched down on the toy as she gazed into those liquid dark eyes.
"I see," he said, with the same quietness from before. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? If you aren't well, you shouldn't have pushed yourself to go out tonight."
"It's just c–cramps," she said again feebly. "I didn't think it was a big deal to mention it."
"You promised to be honest."
Kyoko flinched. She'd completely forgotten about that condition in the contract, and goosebumps pinched her arms.
Honesty must be practised between both parties.
If any of the above terms and conditions are not adhered to by Ms. Mogami, the other party may be entitled to non-monetary compensation at his discretion.
She had just outright lied to him, even though she'd also verbally promised him that she would be honest from now on. But how was she supposed to confess the truth? She'd made him agree not to pursue anything sexual with her, and then she'd inserted a vibrator inside of her before their dinner reservation? She sounded like a lecherous lunatic.
Maybe she was one.
"I…" Her throat was dry. If she lied this time, she'd be deliberately breaching the contract, and she knew it. If there was ever a time to come clean, it was now.
Kyoko opened her mouth.
"I'm fine," she blurted. "Please don't worry about it, Tsuruga-san. And I'm sorry I wasn't upfront with you."
Her heart slammed hard against her ribs at the stifling pause that followed, and she prayed he couldn't detect any traces of guilt in her demeanour. If there was one thing she hated, it was breaking a promise, especially when it came to a virtue she valued: honesty.
She would make it up to Ren somehow. Whatever non-monetary compensation he might want from her, she'd oblige if she could make it out of her plight unscathed. Later into the evening, she'd ask him over dinner about the contract and what the compensation might entail.
But the first thing she needed to do when they reached the restaurant was get to the restroom. This time, she didn't care how long it took. She had to pry the infernal object out if she wanted to have her meal in peace.
"All right."
Kyoko started. She lifted her head, her dilated brown eyes locking with his obsidian ones in the rear-view mirror.
"I see you've made up your mind," he said softly. "But if you continue to feel unwell, or if you've changed your mind, let me know."
She nodded, her guilt spiking. He was technically still giving her a chance to come clean, even if he didn't know she was lying. Not just was she a liar if she maintained this charade, but she was also worrying him needlessly. And she wasn't even sick, just…
She broke eye-contact, gazing back to his sable coat on her lap as the colour returned to her cheeks. While the damned vibrator wasn't moving anymore, she could still feel embers of a molten tension deep in her womb, and she knew she wouldn't need much to stoke and kindle them again.
She siphoned a swift lungful of air, her pulse leaping as his masculine scent filled and ignited every cell in her body. She held her breath at once, trying to steady herself, and as she glanced up, found Ren's catlike onyx eyes boring straight into hers through the mirrored glass. Taken aback, she squirmed, her pulse jumped nervously once more.
"One more thing, Mogami-san," he said mildly.
"Y–Yes?"
"Do you normally work out while you're having cramps?"
She went stock-still, her blood turning to ice.
"I…" Kyoko swallowed. "I heard it could relieve cramps. So, I gave it a shot just now." She gave a sigh. "As you can tell, it didn't really work."
"I see," he murmured. "I'm sorry to hear that."
He offered no further comment, but he didn't have to. Her stomach was in knots, and she knew that the damage was done. At this point, she had irrevocably breached their contract.
And there was no turning back from the implications of that.
Her suspicions that their destination would not be an affordable eatery—for her, anyway—were confirmed as the Bugatti pulled up at a porte cochere of the five-star Blue Princess Hotel. She had never in her life stepped foot into any of the fancy restaurants in that hotel, and she cringed at herself for thinking that her wallet would have made any difference for their meal tonight. A valet had opened the car door by the wheel, and Ren had handed him the keys. At the same time, a smartly-uniformed concierge had opened the door by the passenger seat and offered a white-gloved hand to help her out of the sports automobile.
Her legs were shaky once the concierge left to attend to the next car, and she had to focus to maintain her footing on the flagstone ground. Fortunately, the toy hadn't acted up again for the last couple of minutes of the car ride, but the ominous limbo had only made her more antsy. She felt like she was trapped in a silent minefield, not knowing when the next explosive would go off in her face.
It didn't help that she could feel the vibrator nudge her insides with every step she took through the awaiting doors, and she struggled to keep her face blasé. One of her hands gripped the dangling sleeve of Ren's oversized topcoat around her shoulders, and she fervently wished she could disappear into its depths.
"How are you feeling?"
Kyoko inhaled labouredly. The brilliant gleam of a Rolex glass face flitted across her vision before a much bigger hand gently pried hers off the coat sleeve, enveloping her tiny appendage with ease and granting her the security she sought.
Her heart rate slowed just the slightest, and she looked up at Tsuruga Ren.
"I'm good," she lied. And she was sure she would be, once she got the blasted thing out in the restroom. By now, she had given up on honesty, regardless of the opportunities he was giving her to come clean; what mattered was salvaging the situation, and then offering him whatever compensation he wanted later. "Please don't ruin your evening worrying about me, Tsuruga-san. I've made up my mind, so let's enjoy ourselves tonight."
He met her flinty gaze for a wordless beat, and slowly smiled back with gentle affection.
"Sure," he acquiesced softly. "Let's do that."
Kyoko's heart began to beat faster again, though she didn't exactly know why. This time, it wasn't just because of the toy. Maybe it was the fact that her hand was in his—a curious gesture given that they were not lovers. Despite the written contract, there were lines between them that remained stubbornly indistinct, but she couldn't bring herself to care right now. She didn't want to let go, and she definitely didn't want to ask if he shared this kind of skinship with every woman that was not his partner.
She just wanted to stay like this. She…
Kyoko froze.
The reverberations weren't as strong as before, presumably because she wasn't seated, but they were enough to knock the breath out of her. Electric white-hot waves of pleasure surged ruthlessly through her pelvic floor, and she smothered a stricken moan, her bronze head jerking forward as she throbbed uncontrollably between her legs. Her calves were trembling, and she gritted her teeth, determined to endure the stimulation.
She had expected it, but at the same time, hadn't. The shock of each attack only amplified the sensation and whetted her unwilling arousal. She wanted to scream in frustration.
Fuck Kanae. Fuck the sex toy. Fuck the 'erratic' function, and fuck the damaged remote that had failed to shut this nightmare down!
"Tsuruga-san," Kyoko forced out, unable to look at him. She couldn't look into those piercing dark eyes, not when she was dripping and clamping so very tightly down on the sex toy, and not when she wasn't that far from reaching an orgasm—in the grand lobby of a distinguished hotel, no less!
"Yes?" While Ren sounded gentle, she didn't miss the blend of worry and puzzlement in his musical voice.
"I need to use the restroom," she gasped. "I–I'll be right back."
She didn't wait for his response. She couldn't. Without a backwards glance, she tore her hand from his and bolted towards the copper restroom sign to the left of the sweeping foyer. Heads turned in her peripheral vision, but she ignored the spectators.
She just kept running.
Tsuruga Ren watched her go.
He made no attempt to match her frenzied pace, but moved in unhurried but sure-footed strides after her, paying no heed to the appreciative stares of several young women standing around him. Soon, he was walking gracefully down the deserted corridor leading to the restrooms, his Italian leather shoes clicking quietly on the midnight marble floor.
Kyoko was nowhere in sight; she had already entered the ladies' room. He leaned against the wall, both hands in the pockets of his charcoal cashmere blazer, and observed the mahogany door she had disappeared through. Embossed in elegant gold lines on the expensive wood was a woman's silhouette.
He withdrew a long-fingered hand from his pocket, his Rolex reflecting the tangerine light from the hotel ceiling, and checked the time. Then, casually, he withdrew his other hand, and studied the object in it with seemingly detached interest.
It was tiny on his palm and rectangular-shaped, with a long spidery fissure running down its plastic casing. Just superficial damage; nothing more. The front of the gadget encompassed four buttons, each of them labelled with a letter.
Even without reading the manual, he had known exactly what they stood for when he'd first spotted the remote peeking through Kyoko's backpack.
Click.
Click.
A tall blonde woman tottered down the corridor on noisy stiletto heels, and he lifted a brow as she came to a stop before him, her red-lipsticked mouth parted. Clad in a short cocktail dress, she held a dainty Chanel purse in her manicured hand.
"Hi," she said breathlessly, her cheeks blushing crimson as he smiled at her. "Sorry to bother you. I was just wondering, uh…" Her baby blue eyes shone under mascaraed lashes, and she leaned closer with a coquettish tilt of her lips. "I know this is a bit forward of me, but may I have your number?"
He regarded her amusedly for a moment, and watched as the colour ripened in her heavily-powdered face.
"I'm sorry," he responded gently. "I'm afraid I can't. I'm waiting for someone."
Derision laced her tone, and her flirtatiousness vanished. "Someone? You mean that girl just now?"
He smiled again, discreetly pocketing the hidden remote back into the blazer of his Armani suit. Keeping his hand around the device in his pocket, his smile grew.
"Yes, that girl," Ren said softly, taking in the blonde woman's crestfallen visage.
"I'm just waiting for her to come."
:tbc: