Chapter 9. Lover's Hate
"Stronger than lover's love is lover's hate. Incurable, in each, the wounds they make." - Euripides
"What do you mean you can't?" I asked angrily, ignoring the way everyone was pretending to be busy and not eavesdropping around us.
My young assistant squirmed. "I am sorry, Takaba-san. I know this is very last minute but I really need to leave early today. My girlfriend doesn't feel well and I want to-"
"Doesn't feel well? Is Aiko sick?"
There was a hesitant silence. "Not really. It is just…she is having a rough time lately. I am worried to leave her by herself."
Koji had been working for me for more than two year. I'd met his girlfriend several times when we'd hung out after work. She was an easygoing girl, the cheerful type who would blend in quickly into any environment. So, Koji worrying about her meant that the situation was quite serious.
Normally, an excuse less than that would be enough for me. I didn't usually hold it against my team when they needed to leave work due to personal crisis. Partners and families were as important as one's health and emotional wellbeing. No one would be able to focus on their work when they were worried about their loved ones. And unlike many Japanese employers, I didn't believe in working my team to a lonely death.
This past week, however, everything just irritated me beyond reason. And, unreasonable as it was, any show of affection people around me displayed towards their romantic partner made me want to murder someone. Preferably my so-called husband.
"This is very last minute," I told Koji despite what my logic told me to say.
Koji fidgeted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He nodded but his face was grim with resignation. "I understand, Takaba-san. I am sorry. If it is not possible, I can understand." He turned to walk away, but his shoulders were rigid with tension and his steps were stiff.
The sudden wave of guilt made me want to puke. Koji had done nothing wrong. My envy was irrational, my anger was misdirected, and I suddenly felt ashamed.
"No, wait," I wiped my face wearily, stalling to get better control of my inner demons. "Of course, you can go, Koji. I am sorry. It is just…"
I trailed off. Just what? My jealousy because he had a loving relationship with his girlfriend? My anger at my own lover that Koji knew almost nothing about? My guilty consciences that ate me inside out?
"I am sorry," I finally settled like an idiot. "Please send my regards to Aiko. I hope everything will be fine. Don't hesitate to ask for help if you need anything."
His face softened quickly, morphing into one full of gratitude. "Thank you, Takaba-san. I really appreciate this."
As I watched him exiting my studio, the uncomfortable feeling grew inside me. It was a lump of shame, regret, anger, and hundreds of other negative emotions that I didn't even want to acknowledge.
"We are still ahead of schedule, aren't we?" a familiar feminine voice interrupted my quiet observation.
I turned to face Yamada Reiko, the creative director of an upscale lifestyle magazine, which was now one of my main clients. She was an attractive woman in her mid thirties who always smartly dressed like a stylish hipster. At 5 feet 2 inches, her appearance wasn't exactly intimidating, but there was something in the way she held herself that made most people instinctively regard her with respect.
Unsurprisingly, being such a talented creative director, she was a perfectionist through and through. She only approved the best quality of work and she took no bullshit from anyone. During our first project together years ago, she'd declared that my work was one of those few that met her high standard. Satisfied with the result, she'd pushed for her company to sign a long-term contract with my studio. With her fierce passion to create great artworks, working with her wasn't always easy, even though I found her to be one of my most reasonable clients. I highly respected her and over the years, Reiko-san'd become more of a close friend than a mere client.
"Yes, we are a few days ahead of schedule, Reiko-san," I smiled reassuringly at her.
She frowned, crossing her lean arms in front of her chest in a display of disapproval. "Then, there is no need to rush, isn't there?"
Knowing where this conversation would lead, I just shrugged and started to walk towards my tiny but more private office. There was no way I would have this conversation with her in front of my team.
As soon as we were safe behind closed door, her scolding started. "This isn't like you at all, Akihito-san. You have been acting like an ass for the past week. You make all your team members jumpy as hell. What happened?"
I slowly sat behind my desk, pretending to work on some imaginary paperwork, anything to avoid this conversation. "It's nothing," I tried to keep my tone light. "I feel a bit stressed out. That's all. You know, work pressure and all that."
She exhaled impatiently. "What work pressure? You just said that we are ahead of schedule."
Playing dumb, I paid unnecessary attention to the nonexistent layer of dust that covered my desk, carefully wiping it with my bare palm. "Your magazine isn't my only client, Reiko-san."
"Fine," she said. "Which project is it that stresses you out? Come on. Talk to me. Discussing it always makes you feel better."
"It is actually against the non-disclosure agreement to discuss my other projects with you," I muttered lamely, knowing that the excuse was stupid since I had discussed a lot of other projects with her over the years. Her creative ideas had helped me many times before.
Apparently, she realised it, too, because she replied sarcastically, "NDA, my ass. If I want to sabotage your business, I would have done so years ago."
Her offended tone made me feel even guiltier. She was just trying to help and I was accusing her of breaking my trust. What was wrong with me? I had successfully convinced everyone whom I cared about to hate me, all in the span of a few weeks.
"Sorry."
My apology was nearly inaudible, unsteady just like how my world was now. I heard her sighing, but I didn't dare to look at her. Embarrassed with myself, I stared at my fingers as if they were the most interesting things in the world.
"Whatever your problem is, it won't be the end of the world, Takaba-san. So, stop making the face as if you are going to die today."
"I screwed up," I finally admitted, remembering the way my children had looked at me when they'd realized that there would be no homemade breakfast for them again this morning. The moment the kids had entered the kitchen just to find an empty table, which was the common occurrence for the past few weeks, they had looked so crestfallen it had actually broke my heart. But I didn't have the energy or the patience to do anything lately. If I could, I just wanted to lie on bed and did nothing. Forcing myself to get out of bed and function properly as a human being was already a struggle without adding household duties on top of it.
Having spoiled since young by my homemade breakfast, I knew all three of them disliked cereal wholeheartedly. But, the twins had taken the box of cornflakes without any comment. Mizuki, however, was a different story. She'd merely stared at me, her amber eyes layered thick with tears that she'd had to fight to hold back. Her small body had trembled with unspoken emotions.
"Are you and father going to have a divorce?"
The quivering question had hit me harder than the cold treatment I got from Asami.
After staying out of the house as best as he could for almost the entire week, Asami finally gave up believing that a combination of time and personal space would butter me up. I wasn't surprised when that afternoon, the kids called from school to tell me that they would stay over at my parents' place for the night. I knew right away that the time for revenge had come.
It was obvious that the stay over had been decided under Asami's direct order. He always sent the kids to my parents' place whenever he felt that we needed some 'adult' time. Although the kids always gave some convincing reasons on why they wanted to stay the night at their grandparents' house, I knew that it was all merely excuses. I pretended ignorance, though, and gracefully accepted their white lies.
The moment I hung up on my kids, I could predict exactly what Asami would do tonight. The man might have extraordinary intelligence that allowed him to be the top dog in Japan, if not the world. But whenever he encountered any type of couple problem, he would turn into a simpleton. His method to solve our relationship issues was so predictable: sex, sometimes preceded by expensive gifts. I wanted to laugh at how shallow he could be at times. But, his predictability actually gave me an advantage. With a wicked grin on my face, I started planning.
To Asami's credit, he actually noticed that something might be wrong the moment he stepped through the front door only to find me waiting for him like a dutiful wife. Or a dutiful kept-whore, as everyone seemed to believe. He froze, most probably waiting for me to hurl things at him. And if I had to be honest, that was exactly what I wanted to do. Counting silently to five, I tried to rein my anger instead, and offered him my sweetest smile. His frown grew deeper and I reveled in the bewildered expression flashing in his eyes.
As part of my performance tonight, I purposely wore thin, white tank top and obscenely tight cotton short that barely covered my bottom. The short was so tight across my groin it might as well be transparent. I'd love to to see his reaction when I needed to pick up something from the floor later. The top wasn't any better, as it barely concealed my peaked nipples, showcasing the nubs hidden behind the fabric in all its lewdness. I might not be as young as when we'd first met, but I knew my body still had its old charm. And from the way Asami raised his eyebrow after eyeing my entire appearance, it was clear that he appreciated my outfit tonight.
"Welcome home," I greeted him with warmth that I didn't actually feel, sounding perfectly like the devoted wife who greeted her husband in one of those lame soap opera. "You look tired."
There was a hesitant silent before he answered calmly, "I am home."
"Do you prefer dinner or bath first?" A classic question could never go wrong, right?
I took his briefcase and put it aside, waiting patiently for him to answer.
"I had dinner already," he replied carefully. There was a hint of regret in his voice, as if he was thinking that should he know that I would be so pliant back at home, he would prefer to have dinner with me. "I should have told you earlier."
I forced myself to smile wider although the effort hurt my cheeks. "It is okay. I can freeze the food for later. Bath then?"
He stared at me as I assisted him to take his coat off. There was an unreadable glint in his eyes. Usually, there would be little hints that I could read from his body language. It wouldn't be obvious to other people, but when you live with a man for 15 years, spending most of your nights with him, you tended to pick up a few patterns in his behavior. Like the way the muscle in his jaw slightly twitched whenever he got frustrated arguing with me, or the way his amber eyes sharpened whenever he was lusting after me but knew he needed to wait until the kids were asleep. Tonight, however, there was nothing I could read and it made me nervous.
Did he get suspicious? Was my plan unraveled before it even started?
"Later, maybe," he said slowly.
His golden eyes followed my every move as if he was trying to determine what was the reason behind my sudden change of heart. Clearly, he had expected a more aggressive reaction from me, a fight with a lot of yelling and shouting, which usually ended with him fucking me senseless. Perhaps, he wasn't the only one who turned into a simpleton every time we had an argument. Well, if that were what he expected tonight, he would be very disappointed because screaming at him was the last thing I would do.
Without a word, I lowered my gaze, displaying a submissive attitude that I had never possessed. Slowly, tantalizingly, I stroked his dark gray suit. Like most suits inside his walked-in closet, this one was also bespoke, custom-tailored according to his size by the famous Ascot Chang. Asami didn't like ready-to-wear clothing, even when it was stamped with the brand of famous fashion houses. Too commoner, I guessed. All his shirt and suit was made specifically for his solid body and somehow, they all managed to make him look taller and broader. Dangerously sexy.
He let his hands relax by his sides as I took his suit off, pushing it down his arms from behind him and placed it over the nook of my own arm.
"Your tie," my voice was tender with just a slight caress of sensuality. Obediently, he turned to face me so I could help removing his tie.
For a brief moment, I paused to admire this amazing specimen of a man. Today, Asami was wearing a silk black tie on top of pale blue shirt underneath his suit. No vest. The expanse of soft cotton hugged his broad torso perfectly, creating an illusion of a safety in the embrace of his strong arms. My hands casually caressed the fabric that covered his well-built chest. His body felt like it was moulded from pure granite, layered thick with hard muscles that rippled under my touch. Men and women would kill to have this man protecting and showering them with his love. And I knew at least one woman who would even kill her own son for that. Literally.
Begrudgingly, I pushed the thought of Emi back to the furthest corner of my brain. I didn't need the ghost of her memory to fuel my anger tonight. Things had been messy enough without bringing up her name into our fight.
Asami said nothing when I took my time to loosen the knot of his tie, caressing the bare skin on his nape for longer than what was necessary. He sighed as I briefly massaged the tensed muscle there. Like a well-trained puppy, he bowed his head, eager to give my hands a better access to do my magic. I let him enjoy a few minutes of soothing massage before I got back to his tie. The barely suppressed longing sound he gave me when my hands left his nape was very rewarding. Once the tie was off, I placed it on top of the suit draped over my arm. Silently, I opened the first few buttons of his shirt, revealing more than a glimpse of his sturdy neck, and rolled the sleeves of his shirt.
Asami didn't move. He seemed to barely even breath. But from the way he was watching my every move, he clearly still remained wary of me. His stance told me that he was ready to step back, putting a safe distance between us before he lost his temper, just in case I suddenly shout at him like the last time we had a fight.
Well, it was easy to fix.
Slowly, very slowly, I pressed our body together, from thighs to chests. His cock was flaccid against my lower abdomen, so I rolled my hips to provide the friction needed to rouse that primitive hunger. The suggestive act quickly relaxed him. I could feel the tension bleed out of his stiff shoulders and doubt instantly left his eyes. He circled his arms around my waist, swaying us slowly in a comfortable silence. As I said, sex was Asami's answer for every single issue in our relationship. The moment he was sure he could fuck me he automatically thought that everything would be fine.
Predictable.
"I have something for you," he said with a small smile on his sexy lips.
I almost snorted. Almost. Thankfully, I managed to stop myself. But, see? Here come the ridiculously expensive gifts. As if he could bribe me like how he had bribed some corrupt politicians and law officers, as the rumors said. Not that I, or anyone else, had ever found any proof.
However, faking excitement, I raised my brow expectantly. "A gift? For me?"
For a moment, I was afraid that it would be too much. My voice sounded fake to my own ears. I wasn't delusional. I knew I was a bad liar and I was worried he would see through my terrible acting. But his easy smile slowly turned into a smug one. Either he was desperate enough to make amend to me to the point where he ignored all the misleading signs or my acting was just that good when I had a very strong motivation to do so. Perhaps it was a combination of both.
"Of course, for you. Who else? It is in my briefcase. A black box. Go on. Take it. It is yours." He nudged me encouragingly after giving me a quick peck on the lips.
Pretending enthusiasm, I quickly went through his briefcase as he strode towards the living room. I found the box and recognized the familiar Bvlgari logo right away. There had been nothing I wanted more than to throw the box across the room, preferably at his arrogant self. But doing so would be counterproductive to my original plan. So, I forcefully reined my temper.
Instead, I took the luxurious gift box with me, hung the suit and tie in the laundry room, and went into the kitchen to get him an empty glass and a bottle of Yamazaki single malt whiskey, his favourite.
When I walked into the living room, carefully balancing the gift box, the glass, and the bottle in my arms, I observed my so-called husband. Asami sat at his favourite leather armchair with his eyes closed, looking unusually subdued as he rested his head on the headrest. He did look tired. There was a sag in the line of his broad shoulders. His face was paler than usual. And his body slightly lost its usual elegance.
I paused for a few heartbeats, wondering about the heavy burden that seemed to wear him down. A burden that I might never know, moreover understand. Asami had never told me anything about his work life. Even when I asked him about his day, he just gave me a smile and said that it was okay. 'Being able to come home to you is more than enough to make my day better,' he had answered one night when he'd come home looking weary and I'd asked him whether there was anything I could do to help.
The distant memory made me question the wisdom of my plan. This wasn't a man looking for another argument. He didn't even seem to have the energy required to participate in a shouting match. This was a man who was pleading for comfort in the warm embrace of his lover. A man who was looking for sanctuary where he could rest without being judged or humiliated or viewed as weak. A man who needed a place to lick his wounds in peace. For a while, my love for him won and it kicked my insecurity back to its corner.
Quietly, I poured him a few fingers of the fiery liquid and placed the glass at the edge of the table by his side. He slowly opened his eyes, smiled at me, and took the glass.
"Thank you, Akihito," he said with obvious gratitude.
I placed the bottle on the table and nodded with a more genuine smile, ready to forgo my stupid revenge plan and proceed with a night of passionate lovemaking.
But then, Asami took a sip and stilled as if he just remembered something, staring into space absentmindedly. His expression was blank yet his golden eyes were troubled. It was clear that his mind was wandering to matters I knew nothing of. Matters that he would never trust me with. Matters that he would share with many different people but me.
As I watched him swirling the liquid, his focus already at a place I didn't belong to, I realized that for him, tonight wasn't about making amend. Asami didn't come home because he felt guilty. I doubted he even realized why I'd been mad. He was simply tired of arguing with me. Perhaps, he was also tired of his world and yearned for some tender loving, which was what he wanted from me. If making amend were what he needed to do to get it, he would do it although he mightn't understand the reason why. No wonder there was none of his usual honest reactions that I could read. Apparently, tonight, it was all acting.
Deep down, I understood why he did it. I did that, too, from time to time, when I felt that his behavior was beyond my reasoning. Let's be honest here. Sometimes, we yielded to the people we loved not because we felt guilty, not even because we understood the problem, but more because we treasured that person too much to make a big deal out of the matter in hand.
There were times like now, however, when superficial remorse wasn't enough. My anger reared its ugly head without warning and my temper came back with renewed vigor. I was like an addict who knew fully well that the drugs would do me no good, and yet, I couldn't help myself.
So, instead of forgiving him like I was about to do, I steeled myself to go through with my plan.
"It is nice of you to buy me a gift," I said as I climbed into his lap, dragging him out of whatever internal meeting he held in his head. Circling my hands around his neck, I forced him to look at me in the eyes.
His surprise was priceless. He clearly didn't expect me to eagerly accept the gift, moreover to straddle him in an obvious attempt to show my appreciation. I took the metallic gray Bvlgari watch out of its box. It was thin and surprisingly light. Prime quality, obviously. Years working with fashion models had taught me a thing or two. So, I knew that this watch could have as well cost him millions of yens. Seductively placing it in his hand, I held out my left hand to him, silently asking him to put the ridiculously expensive watch around my bare wrist. In his shock, he just sat there, staring at my hand, too stunned to react.
I leaned forward, nuzzling his neck with my nose and lips. "Don't you think placing a watch around one's wrist feels like binding him to you?" I whispered into his ear.
Succumbing into momentary temptation, I licked his earlobe, caressing the skin behind it using the tip of my nose. My other hand roamed the side of his body freely. I couldn't see his face, so most probably I was just imagining his smile. But he placed his arms around my waist and started rubbing my back possessively.
"A binding, huh?"
Grinning, I sat on my heels to get a better look of him. "Remember the time when you chained my ankles and wrists? After you got me deported? You were such a jerk," I complained, but the smile softened my words. "Well, you are always a jerk, I guess. I just forget sometimes."
His relaxed laugh caught me unprepared. With one fluid movement, he fastened the watch around my wrist. "You are in a strange mood tonight, Akihito."
"Ummm," I rolled my hips on his lap. "Does this feel strange to you?"
A deep groan as my bottom pressed against his cock was my reward.
"Is that a complain?" I teased. Playfully, I rose to my knees. But as soon as my ass left his cock, he pushed me back down.
"I completely approve," he said with mirth. His cock quickly grew harder under me as he played my hips for his pleasure. "Do you want that?"
"Hmm?"
He pulled me aggressively until my chest was pressed against his, so tightly there wasn't even a millimeter between us. If someone were to slip a match between our bodies, the friction would be enough to light it on fire. "Do you want me to bind you tonight?"
What I wanted was for him to grovel in regret for treating me like a whore in front of Rikiya's girlfriend, who unfortunately, happened to be a very disdainful bitch. But he would never understand why I felt humiliated by his arrogance. Not even if I painted my reasoning in big capital letters on our living room wall. Asami believed it was his right to command anyone as he saw fit. He couldn't accept the idea that not everyone would jump happily to follow his orders, no matter how much he thought he knew best. I didn't know how else I could explain it to him. If words couldn't get through that thick skull of his, perhaps action would teach him a lesson or two about respecting me.
So, I plastered a longing look on my face, humming timidly. "If it pleases you."
From the twitch of his cock, my answer clearly pleased him.
He grabbed the sides of my hips and covered my lips with his. His tongue was soft, a complete contrast with the aggressive way it invaded my mouth. His grip on me was strong, leaving bruises that sealed his claim over me. His masculine scent, a combination of his natural fragrance, cologne and tobacco, made me tremble with lust despite my anger. The kiss was long, wet, frantic, brutal. And when he finally let me go, his eyes were full of fierce desire that made his pupils blazed in the color of melted gold.
My willingness to please him tonight had obviously woken the beast that rarely came into the surface. There was none of his usual control. His movements were completely inhibited, directed more by lust than logic. His touches slightly lost its finesse. Asami was as eager as a little boy who was allowed to get all the candies in the store. And I was the candy that he wanted.
"Strip."
Inwardly, I scowled at the command. But I force myself to obey the order with a smile on my face. I took my tank top off and threw it in the general direction of the TV. He raised his eyebrow at my unusual sloppiness but said nothing. I didn't care. After tonight, I wouldn't be the one who clean the house anymore. Why would the kept-whore do anything that required more effort than looking pretty, right?
I rose from his lap and stood in front of him, just long enough to pull down my tiny shorts. Despite my anger at him, my cock was already semi hard.
"No underwear, Akihito?" His amusement annoyed me but I endured it. Patience was the key. Revenge was a dish best served cold. I knew tonight would only bring me more embarrassment before it would get better. Before I could punch him in the face. Before I could kick his haughty ass.
He pulled me back to him, making me kneeling on the sofa, my legs straddling him. Looking up at me, he slowly spread my ass cheeks apart and slipped a finger into my hole. His grin couldn't get any smugger than when he found me already stretched and lubed; my body was ready for him anytime and anyway he wanted it and the idea thrilled him.
He presented his slick digit, the one which had been inside my body just seconds before, in front of my face, mercilessly forcing me to accept the fact that we both knew I had prepared my body like a whore preparing hers before meeting a customer. The clear lube that covered his finger shined under our living room lighting, mocking me in all its glory. "How naughty," he commented with a satisfied smirk on his handsome face.
I blushed and writhed under his gaze. Warmth spread not only to my face, but also to my chest. If I could, I wanted to just vanish into thin air. My first instinct was to look away, but he took my chin and forced me to look at him in the eyes.
Being a cruel power-addict, Asami enjoyed my shyness. The fact that he managed to corner me always aroused him like nothing else. My reluctant submission made him feel powerful and indestructible. And stroking his ego was what I needed to do to lead him to his downfall tonight. If I played my card right, I would be able to strike him where it hurt the most.
After a long silence, I forced myself to murmur, "Only for you."
If his pupil dilated any wider, his eyes would lose all the white color. He growled, producing a low, deep, guttural sound that was strangely inhuman. It sounded like a mix between pain and pleasure.
"Mine," he hissed, holding me possessively as if someone would jump out of nowhere and take me away from him.
"Yours," I sighed, resting my head on his right shoulder.
He gave me another kiss. He took his time now, exploring every nook and cranny in my mouth, sucking my tongue and biting my lower lips as he pulled his tongue out before pushing his way back in. Again and again. His hands roamed, mapping my body like a king studying his newly conquered land. And despite my anger, my body instinctively melted into his embrace, yielding to the power of his strong arms. I hooked my legs around his waist. My fingers linked behind his head, pulling him closer to me, silently begging him for more.
When he suddenly stood, lifting me with him like a parent carrying a crying child, I yelped in surprise. He laughed, clearly proud for being able to support my weight as if I was nothing but a small, little boy. Old and weak, Asami clearly was not. His strained muscles were hard against my body, announcing his discipline and control over his own body like he had over everything else.
"Should I fuck you in this position, Akihito?" he asked with a smirk. "We haven't done that in a long time."
I moaned as he ground his hips against my pelvis. My own cock was trapped between us.
"If it pleases you."
I could feel him becoming very still for a heartbeat. That was the second time I had said the phrase tonight and surely he began to notice it. But, I run my hands through his silky hair, messaging his scalp tenderly, distracting him. It wasn't time yet, but this would give him a hint. Slowly, he relaxed again.
He tilted his head up and I obliged, meeting his lips halfway to start another round of making out. I was actually impressed he didn't even lose his breath after all those kissing while supporting my full weight. I was kind of expecting him to drop me after a minute or so. And yet, with me straddling his hips, he carried me up the stairs, all the way to our bedroom.
He put me gently on the king-sized bed, nudging so that I lay on my stomach. Knowing what he wanted, I got into all fours, placing a pillow under my stomach, before resting my bare chest on the silky bed sheet. I stretched my arms above my head, holding the steel bedhead for support. My forehead touched the mattress. With my knees spread as wide as humanly possible and my ass up high in the air, I couldn't look more whorish than this.
His breathing grew faster, impatient. He run his fingers along my spine, leaving a trail of fire on my skin. "So beautiful," he murmured absentmindedly, barely audible, as if the words were meant to be said inside his head instead of out loud. "And all mine."
I heard his movements as he got a few items from our drawer. My heart was racing in my ribcage, trying to jump out of my throat. I was as nervous as a virgin on her wedding night.
When he came back, he brought a maroon silk rope and after entwining the rope around the new Bvlgari watch a few times for effect, he quickly tied my wrists onto the metal bar of our bedhead. I pulled, testing the strength of the knot, but as usual, he had done it perfectly. It was tight enough to keep me in place, yet not too tight that it would cut my blood circulation.
"All good?" he checked as he run his fingers through my blond locks, giving enough pressure to remind me of his dominance over my body.
"Yes," I whispered.
Leisurely, he moved to kneel behind me. His hands never stopped to caress, leaving a memory of his heated fingers on my chilled naked skin. There was sound of him pouring the lube generously over his cock. It was nice of him, actually, to still prepare even though he knew I had stretched and lubed myself. Obviously, tonight, he wanted me to enjoy this act of debauchery as much as him.
His cock was ready at the entrance of my hole, rock hard like an iron rod, when he rasped, "Tell me what you want, Akihito. I want to give it to you."
Well, it was too late. I was done with him pulling me with one hand and then pushing me with the other. I turned my head to look at him over my shoulder, giving him the most superficial smile I could conjure. "I want whatever that pleases you, Asami-sama."
He stilled. "Are we…roleplaying now?" His voice sounded unusually tentative. The amber eyes looked confused and unsure, blinking like someone had just woken him up from a deep slumber.
"Roleplaying? Is that what we are doing for years?" My faked sweetness could match Takamiya Suzu's, sarcasm dripping from every word like poison, quickly turning our cocoon of passion into heavy tension. The smirk on his face disappeared, replaced by a deep frown as he tried to understand what was actually going on.
"I don't understand," he said quietly. "What the hell are you talking about, Akihito?"
I laughed like a homicidal maniac who was about to kill his next victim. "Wasn't I your whore, Asami-sama?! Isn't that how people call me? Don't pretend you have no idea what I am talking about!"
His flinch was barely noticeable. But it was there. It wasn't enough, though. I wanted him to feel more pain, for his heart to bleed like mine had. I was a bloodthirsty man in a mission to stab him where it would hurt him the most. So, I pushed on.
"So, you do know that your staffs are calling me 'the boss' whore', huh?" I snickered at his reaction. "Yet, you let them. And why should you correct them? That's what I am: your whore, one who must obey your bloody commands without question! You don't love me! You didn't even bother to show me any respect in front of that Takamiya girl! Why should you, right? You fucking paid for my full service with a Bvlgari watch, that stupid red BMW you gave me last month and all those gifts I have never wanted! Oh, you even bought me three children! 'Akihito wants to play a normal family with kids, so let's go buy him a few!' You think having children is a sort of fucking foreplay, don't you?! Please, Asami-sama, can you buy me a teenage boyfriend next?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Asami didn't say anything. In fact, he was as still as a marble statue. My furious breathing was the only sound in the room and it seemed to be as loud and clear as my frantic heartbeats.
"Go on," I said with a push of my buttocks against his cock. It was soft by now. His arousal had evaporated into thin air, leaving nothing but a chilled skin barely covered by his pants. "Take what's yours. You spend hundreds of millions of yens for this body. Make it worth your money. Use my body however it pleases you. That's what you do best: fucking whores!"
I had anticipated him talking his way out of this. I had anticipated excuses, sweet promises and more half-lies. I had anticipated anger. I had even anticipated violence.
What I didn't anticipate was the hurt in his eyes. Those golden orbs widened in pure rage before slowly darkened in a futile effort to mask the wound my words had carved deep inside him. The struggle to control his emotion contorted his handsome face. His silent fury was obvious in every twitch and flinch of the muscles around his mouth. Had I stabbed him in the heart and left him to die slowly in the pool of his own blood, he would feel much less pain than when my words of hatred had struck him without mercy.
Slowly, he sat on his heels, staring at me as if he was looking at a stranger instead of a man who had been spending the last 15 years with him. A man who raised his kids and took care of his home. A man who made sure that his shirt was crisp from laundry and his meals were warm when he arrived at home. He looked at me with a strange expression that could only be interpreted as 'who is this person that I've slept with for more than a decade?'.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, then he shut it again. For a while, without a word, he just stayed there. The emptiness between us turned my blood into ice. And when I thought he wouldn't do anything but sitting there, to my surprise, he squeezed his eyes shut. His hands fisted on his thighs, no longer touching me. He clenched his jaw and tilted his head up towards the ceiling, like a man praying for strength.
It felt like hours, but most likely not more than a second, before he took a deep, long breath to control himself. When he finally opened his eyes again, the pain had disappeared. Not only he looked emotionless, but he also looked detached. As detached as man who hated opera and being forced to watch one. Without looking at me or saying another word, he unfastened the knot around my wrists. It wasn't a loving gesture, more like a clinical action that was done merely to serve its purpose.
He got out of the bed, stood, and went into our closet to change his shirt and pants that were rumpled by our passion earlier. Feeling strangely numb, I sat there in the middle of our bed, waiting for the shouting to begin or the apologies to fly. This resigned response started to scare me. I was hoping for any kind of reaction from him. But none was coming.
Less than five minutes later, he got out of our walk-in closet, wearing his usual three-pieces suit. For some unexplainable reasons, the bespoke suit now lost its charm. It didn't make him look taller or broader. Gone was the sexy Asami Ryuichi. In his place was a man who looked cold and empty.
He went out of the bedroom silently and soon, I heard the sound of the front door of our house opening and then closing loudly.
I swallowed, waiting for the feeling of satisfaction to come, praying for the rush of excitement to spread into my entire being. Hadn't I hurt him as I'd planned? Hadn't I gotten my revenge? Hadn't I gotten my point across? Hadn't I won?
None. I felt nothing.
Nothing but regret.
When I finally realised the sheer stupidity of my action, I jumped out of the bed, looking frantically for my phone. I slipped into the first shirt and short that I could get before running all the way downstairs. My fingers were shaking as I pressed the button to call his private number.
The moment I reached the first floor of our house, my call was connected. Taylor Swift's voice was clear enough, just slightly muffled by the thin metal that covered it. I stomped on the pedal of the trashcan to open the lid.
At the bottom of the trashcan was Asami's private phone. The limited edition iPhone with real diamonds embedded on its side, a gift from Mizuki for our anniversary months ago, lay on top of various brochures that had once spammed our mailbox, mocking the fear that had grown in me with every passing second. As it rang, the screen displayed the photo of me kissing Asami on the cheek, taken during one of our family trip to Singapore years ago. The name that he used for my number felt like a slap to my face: My Akihito.
Stunned, I dropped my own phone, which was the exact twin of the one that was now in the trashcan, to the floor. A sinking feeling filled my gut and I wanted to scream for the stupid ringtone to stop echoing in the now empty house.
"Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone
I'll be waiting all there's left to do is run
You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess
It's a love story baby just say yes"
"It has been a week since your man left the house and you haven't done anything!?" Reiko-san stared at me in disbelief, something I'd very rarely seen her doing.
The coffee shop where we were sitting now was within walking distance from my studio. It wasn't too crowded during working hour and most patrons were busy with their own things, but from force of habit, I still looked around in case someone had heard her. I always hated the idea of strangers knowing my personal problems. I would only discuss it with a few of my closest and trusted friends. Privacy was very important to me. If I wanted the world to know about my dirty laundry, I would become a celebrity instead so I could at least get properly paid for sharing it to public.
Keeping my own voice as low as possible, I snapped at her, "I don't know what to do."
She snorted, rolling her eyes in exasperation, clearly unimpressed by my restrained annoyance. "What do you mean you don't know what to do?"
"I can't just call him and say sorry!" I nearly shouted in frustration, hoping she would understand and take my side. She was supposed to be my friend, wasn't she? Shouldn't she be more sympathetic?
No. Of course, she wouldn't. In fact, today, she was as ruthless and merciless as an inquisitor torturing her prisoner for answers that he didn't have. She used that stern tone that she often used during meetings, one that clearly implied she would accept no lies and bullshit. "And why can't you?"
"Because-" I started and stopped. For the first time since I'd met her, I found myself in a position where I needed to find an excuse that would pardon my crime. It wasn't a nice feeling and I immediately pitied her team members that had often been the recipients of that deadly glare. "Well, he left his phone behind. How can I contact him now?"
"Oh, please! Cut that nonsense! I am sure the man has a few other phones aside from the private one. Or call his office. Or his secretary. Kirishima-san, isn't it?"
I jumped in my seat when I saw her taking her own phone from her black Balenciaga bag. In a blink, she had unlocked the screen and went through her phonebook.
"I am sure I still have his secretary's phone number from the last time we interviewed him," she mumbled to herself. "We can call him now. Make appointment. Then the two of you can discuss your issue like two fucking adults."
Five years ago, Reiko-san had called me to discuss a photo shoot for an interview with Asami. Apparently, her magazine had chosen my husband as one of the "6 Successful Businessmen You Are Dying to Date" and so, her editorial team had planned 5 full pages featuring Asami.
I couldn't believe Asami would accept an offer to be featured in a lifestyle magazine. It wouldn't matter that its main readers were rich socialites and posh housewives. Whenever possible, especially when it wouldn't give him any profit, Asami avoided the spotlight. He was a man who preferred to work from the shadow, using people as his stupid pawns to do his bidding so that he would never be in the center of attention. I guessed, that way, it would be easier to clean up the mess in case something went wrong.
But obviously, I didn't know him that well. Reiko-san had told me that Asami had agreed to the interview at the very last minute, which was why she had needed my help. She'd had no time for even a single mistake and I was the only photographer she could fully trust with such an important job. "Asami Ryuichi rarely agrees to an interview and this might be the first time he will appear in a lifestyle magazine! I won't let an amateur mess this opportunity up!"
Of course, knowing it would involve Asami, I had refused her right away. There would be no way I could stay calm taking his photos while he was lying through his teeth about having no steady, legitimate partner for the amusement of those high-class ladies. I didn't think I could keep myself from hitting him in the mouth, preferably with my tripod, and then, we would all need to see whether those ladies were still dying to date his toothless self. Personally, I highly doubted that.
Reiko-san couldn't accept my outright refusal and so, after half an hour of begging and pleading for my help as a friend because, I quoted, "it would be a headache to find someone who could do the fucking job like you", I'd hesitantly explained why I couldn't save her ass this time. I'd expected her to be disgusted to know that I was not only gay, but also a sort of a 'mistress' of Asami Ryuichi. To my surprise, she'd listened to my story in silence and then simply nodded with a quiet "I understand." There had been no judgment and I felt thankful for that.
So, she'd asked another photographer to handle Asami's photo shooting. "He isn't as good as you, but he will do, I guess," she'd said when I'd asked her the next day. I'd bought a copy of the magazine, the one with Asami's interview in it, just to see the photos this other photographer had done. It wasn't a bad job, really, but I knew I could do much better. No only I had better techniques, but I'd also spent years with the bastard to know his better angles very well.
The next time Reiko-san and I'd gone drinking after another photo shoot session, she'd confided that she was actually in a relationship with a married businessman. The affair had been going on for nearly 3 years by that time. She knew that her man had no intention to leave his wife and his 2 years old son, moreover to marry her, but she still loved him anyway. "My mother won't ever see me getting married," she'd said with a forced smile before downing her beer in one big gulp. The calm resignation in her voice had made me sad.
Bitching about our twisted romantic relationships was how we had started our close friendship. It was nice to be able to talk with someone who understood how it felt to have a relationship that was far from being acceptable according to the society's standard. Of course, I could always talk to Kou and Takato, but they would never understand it as much as Reiko-san did. No one else could understand how it felt to love someone to the point of willing to do anything, even if it meant that I needed to go against my very own principles. And since then, Reiko-san had been my confidante. It was easy to tell her everything about my relationship with Asami.
Now, however, I just wanted to throttle her.
"No. No. No!" I hissed at her as I tried to snatch her phone away. "You are so not going to call Kirishima or whoever it is you want to call!"
She kept the hand that held her phone away from my reach. "Why not?"
"Because I don't want to talk to him!"
She sighed. "You need to talk to him, Akihito-san. You can't let things hanging like this forever. Not only it affects you, it will also affect your children."
I gritted my teeth and looked away from her. "They are not my children."
"Akihito-san! You can't really mean it! I know you love them more than anything else in the world! You don't have Asami-san's photo anywhere in your office, but there are dozens of photos of your kids there."
I could feel tears pooling at the corner of my eyes, ready to fall down my cheeks anytime soon. I felt helpless and useless. My voice was shaky with frustration when I replied, "They are his. He bought them with his money and the three of them had taken his name. I let him get all the necessary paperwork believing that we will be together until we die. I won't win the children even if I bring this to the court."
Her lips tightened into a thin line. It was a stupid move from me, I knew. I totally had no control in our relationship. The entire situation was just another proof of how Asami wanted to trap me in a golden cage. Like a good pet owner, he had trained me in such a way that I had actually thought that the cage and all the goods in it was my entire world.
"Does that mean that you are going to run away again? This time, not only leaving him, but also leaving your children behind?"
"I didn't say anything about running away!" I said but I couldn't look at her straight in the eyes.
"Well, that's what you are planning to do for the past week, isn't it? That's why you have been skittish. Did you pack already?"
Her straightforward question froze me. I could feel my face turning red as I remembered the travel bag I had taken out from the back of my own closet at home. I'd placed it on the bed and then, I'd spent hours just staring at it, trying to find the courage to actually fill it with my clothes and break my promise to Asami, a promise to never to run away again.
"I can't-" my breath caught as I tried to fight back my tears. "I can't do this anymore."
Slowly, she moved from the chair opposite of me to sit beside me. Her shorter body leaned into mine, lending me strength despite her smaller frame. Humming some soothing sounds that reminded me of how my own mother would console me when I was young, she rubbed my back soothingly.
Her quiet understanding was the final hit that finally broke the ice-cold mask I had wore for the past week. Shame was instantly forgotten, drowned in the wave of regret that was flooding my entire being. Hiding my face behind my forearm, I let my tears fall freely. My body shook violently in despair. My throat burnt with emotion, choking me until I couldn't even breathe properly. And all along, she held my shoulders steadily, providing comfort that I couldn't get from anyone else.
"Shh, it is okay," she said softly. "Everything will be all right."
"No, it isn't o-okay," I fought for control in between my sobs. "I screwed everything up. Now, he hates me and I will lose him and my children."
I had never felt this powerless in my life. This was even worse than when his enemies had kidnapped me. At least, that time, I'd had a glint of hope that Asami would somehow come for me.
Why had I let my insecurity get the better of me? Now, my anger seemed so petty and my revenge was no more than a childish act. Hadn't I known the consequences of living with him from the beginning?
Since the first day, Asami had made it perfectly clear that he was a selfish, arrogant jerk. He was obviously involved in underground dealings and his entire wealth was most probably illegal. He had many enemies and, despite his best effort to protect me, he had never claimed that it wouldn't affect our life. On top of all those faults, he was a control freak, a sex maniac and, in general, a fucking asshole; and, he was completely unapologetic about it. He'd never tried to be someone he wasn't. He'd never promised me an easy life. He'd never said that our life would be normal. If normal was what I truly expected when I'd agreed to marry him, I'd to be the biggest idiot in history.
Yet, I'd chosen to spend the rest of my life with the bastard, knowing all his faults and all the risks. I couldn't blame him now when everything came biting me in the ass.
"You don't know that for sure," she gently chastised me. "He didn't say that he hates you now, did he?"
"He hasn't contacted me for a week, Reiko-san. Even Kirishima and Tao haven't called me."
She sighed. "Okay, forget about what he does or doesn't do for a while. Be honest with me, what do you actually want to do? Do you want to leave or not?"
I hesitated only for a second before taking a deep breath and answering in a much more steady voice, "I know this is crazy, but I love him even when he is such an annoying old bastard. I want to fix this relationship, no matter how twisted it was."
Reiko-san gave me a small smile, nudging my arm in a way that made me smile as well. "Then, you need to stop waiting for him to chase after you. You always complain about having no control in this relationship. Well, if you want to have some control, this is your chance. Go meet him on your own terms and get the answer that you need."
Now that I thought about it, she had a point. Asami had always been the one who chased me all over the place. Despite his own injuries, Asami'd gone to Hong Kong when Feilong had kidnapped me. Then, he'd gone to Russia when the Arbatovs had taken me to blackmail him, an incident that had led me to leave him in the pursuit of a normal life. Two years later, he'd been the one who had taken the first step to rebuild our relationship, even agreeing to share me with Arata. And when I had run away months later, he'd tracked me down to South East Asia. Again and again, over the years we'd been together, Asami'd been the one who did everything he could to keep us together.
And I had accused him of not truly loving me.
Reiko-san patted my shoulder tenderly when I slowly nodded. "There isn't right or wrong here, Akihito-san. Stop overthinking. Just follow your heart. It knows what it wants."
Tao stood casually with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand, knowing the shadow of the shop buildings would hide him from view. His casual clothes helped him to blend in as he observed Akihito chatting with his friend in the fancy coffee shop across the road. He sipped his own cheap, tasteless coffee, pretending to be one of the dozens commoners there. There weren't too many people in this area at this hour of the day so Tao couldn't get too close to Akihito without drawing attention. Fortunately, Akihito and his friend had taken the seats just beside the transparent window that faced the street.
Soga, the bodyguard that Asami-sama had assigned to watch over Akihito, was standing outside the coffee shop, a few meters away from the main entrance. The bulky man wore simple black t-shirt, denim jeans and a baseball cap. Leaning against the coffee shop wall, Soga did his best to look like he was merely a civilian playing with his phone instead of a man trained to kill watching the street for any possible danger that might harm the boss' lover. Having worked with the man himself for a few times, Tao knew that Soga was good. The man had a loyalty like a guard dog and skills that surpassed most of his peers. But even Soga wasn't good enough to notice Tao's presence whenever Tao spent an hour or two just to watch Akihito from afar.
Absentmindedly, Tao patted the pocket on the inside of his leather jacket. Neatly tucked in his pocket was no less than 10.000 USD in cash and two passports, one with his photo and the other with Akihito's photo, both with fake names. Kirishima-san had passed him the passports a month a go, when they all had started discussing the emergency plan in case something unfortunate were to happen to Asami-sama. Tao's job would be to get Akihito out of the country to Hong Kong. Liu Feilong had prepared a grand estate in a nice yet secluded city in Mainland China for Akihito to reside until the chaos died down. There would be nothing but the best comfort for Asami Ryuichi's husband.
At least, that was the plan until Tao saw the travel bag on the bed in Asami-sama's bedroom.
Since Akihito's rebellious behavior in front of Takamiya Suzu, Tao knew the arguments that followed would be long, tiring, and troublesome. And Tao had been right. The quarrel between his boss and Akihito had been going on for nearly two weeks, a new record even for them, and so far nothing seemed to get better. If anything, things got worse. When last week, Asami-sama had forbid all contact with Akihito until further notice, Tao suspected that this time, some expensive gifts, sweet apology and great sex mightn't be enough to save the relationship. Even the children had started to feel nervous. And the outside world had paid for the boss' sour mood.
To be honest, Tao hadn't thought much about it until a few days ago, when Asami-sama had ordered Tao to get him some fresh clothes from the house. Asami-sama only trusted Tao, Haruka, Suoh-san and Kirishima-san to go into the house. There were guards outside, but no one else other than those four was allowed inside without Asami-sama's presence. With Haruka having to stay with Mizuki-chan at all times and Asami-sama constantly needing Kirishima-san and Suoh-san by his side, the responsibility of fetching things from the house fell on Tao's shoulders.
Since he wasn't allowed to make any contact with Akihito, Tao had waited patiently until he was sure that Akihito would be away for a few hours before using his spare key to go inside. What he found in the master bedroom, however, was a travel bag and some of Akihito's clothes, folded and piled neatly beside it, waiting to be put into the bag. That was when Tao knew that Akihito was planning to run away from Asami-sama. Again.
He had kept the information to himself. Asami-sama would never know if Tao said nothing. His boss wasn't about to come home for another week or so, most probably in an effort to give Akihito some cooling down period. And since Tao was the only possible option to go into the house, no one else could report the existence of that freaking travel bag to Asami-sama.
Tao knew that he didn't have much time, though.
This morning, he had picked up two new illegal passports from his own secret contact; one with his photo and the other with Akihito's photo but both were using fake names that Asami-sama didn't know. Tao had also managed to arrange a few IDs and driving licenses under both names. Another escape route, one that only Tao knew, would be ready at their disposal the moment Akihito decided to leave Asami-sama for good. Tao wouldn't repeat the same mistake he had done 15 years a go. This time, if Akihito wanted an out, Tao would go with him and make sure that Akihito was safe.
Akihito wanted a normal life, something a man like Asami Ryuichi would never be able to provide. Not even if Asami-sama decided to abandon his underground business. Asami-sama had built his vast empire on top of the blood, flesh and death of so many people whose families and friends would happily hunt Asami-sama down like a dog the moment Asami-sama tipped the balance of power, which would certainly happen if Asami-sama ever decided to leave his business without a trusted heir who could hold Sion Group's dominance over the rest of the world. Hell, there would be a bloody massacre if that were to happen. And despite his talent, Rikiya just wasn't ready to control that much power.
Tao, on the other hand, had no such responsibility, not yet, and he would gladly leave everything he had now to give Akihito what he wanted. They could go to a place where Asami-sama had little power. Perhaps, a city in Australia would be nice. As long as they stayed off the grid, Asami-sama would never find them. They could live a normal life, do mundane things and grow old together. Tao had secret accounts all over the world with enough money for them to live comfortably without having to work for the rest of their life. They would be fine.
But, it would be the worst betrayal against Asami-sama, the man who had taught Tao everything that he knew. The man who treated Tao like a son. The man who trusted Tao with his own sons, daughter and lover. The man who patted his back with eyes full of pride every time Tao performed really well. Tao had no ill will towards Asami-sama. He loved the man like his own father. And it hurt him that he might need to cause great pain to the man who had done nothing but nurture him into the man that Tao was now.
His mind wandered to his adopted father. The older Liu always encouraged Tao to start a relationship of his own, introducing him to many pretty boys. The latest one had been during Lunar New Year, when Tao had visited home just to find a beautiful young man with light brown hair and hazel eyes waiting demurely beside his father's chair. "I know whom you want, Son, but that person is a poison that will kill you from the inside. It is the thrill of getting someone whom you can't have that excites you," Liu Feilong had gently warned him. "Take this blonde to your bed and get the poison out of your system. You will feel better."
Tao had refused politely. But deep down inside, he'd fumed. His love for Akihito wasn't something that would just disappear the moment he shoved his cock into another blonde's asshole. If it was that simple, he would have gotten over it a decade a go, when he had fucked a man who had Akihito's unique features in a desperate attempt to forget the man that he loved.
Father will be so disappointed in me. Will Asami-sama spare father and Baishe if I run away with Akihito?
Across the street, Akihito was crying against his friend's shoulder. The woman seemed sympathetic. Thankfully, there wasn't anything sensual in the way she hugged Akihito. Otherwise, Tao would make sure to give her a lesson she would never forget. Tao wouldn't stay still to see anyone other than Asami-sama embracing Akihito. And even with Asami-sama, it was still hard for him to watch.
Even if after all that you just want me as a friend, it is fine. I will make you happy. You will never cry again, he promised. I will always choose you over anything else this world can offer; honor, reputation, business, money, power, lovers, and any father figures. All is nothing compared to you.
That was when Tao knew for sure that he could do nothing to stop the feeling he had for his best friend.