Author's Note

Just an FYI – this chapter contains mature subject matter.

Lead Me Down the Garden Path

Body Language

Kagome gasped as her hairline emerged from the depths of the pool's tepid water. Lurching forward, she clung to the raised edge of the pool's deep end, resting her elbows on the coarse pebbly material that made up the floor of the pool house. Sputtering drops of water from her mouth, she gasped again and wiped the water from her eyes. Her breaths echoing in the translucent glass-encased building, Kagome rested her cheek on the backs of her hands, her mind heavy. The way the building retained the humidity it felt more like a greenhouse, and she closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing. Kagome could feel the sun, filtered through the frosted glass roof, on her back and her black ponytailed locks suctioned to the back of her neck and shoulders. Opening her eyes, she witnessed the last few inches of her hair drifting away from her to float playfully in the water. She watched the ends glide around her shoulder, mesmerized by the seductive dance induced by the lull of the water.

Kagome couldn't believe how quickly the past week had gone by. Every day that passed made it the smallest amount easier to accept her current living arrangements; however, discomfort still felt burdensome on her shoulders. Kagome still couldn't express—let alone fathom—just how anxious and distressed she felt.

Once she and Inuyasha had left her room (despite how embarrassing that thought was to recall), the day had passed by in a blur. Sango, devastated for her friend, took an early departure after dinner, deciding she would prepare Kagome a care package to help Kagome feel less uncomfortable in her new accommodations. Miroku, insistent to enjoy a drive alone with the woman, offered to escort Sango to her home and then deliver the package, personally, to Kagome. When those two left, Kagome watched as Inuyasha, ostensibly troubled, stood from the table excusing himself. Watching him walk away, Kagome, alone and uncomfortable, decided to seek shelter on the second floor of the house—her floor.

After a long hot shower, where Kagome couldn't hold back the tears that surged under the water pressure, she had walked back to her new room only to find one of Sango's tote bags on the bed. Acquiescing to the fact that the day had made Kagome an emotional wreck, she paid no mind to the grateful tears that coated her freshly bathed cheeks. With cautious fingers, she pulled each item out of the bag.

Sango had thought of everything. She had packed Kagome some pajamas, toiletries, a few pairs of Sango's yoga pants, makeup, and Sango's iPod and headphones. Kagome even had to laugh at the unopened three-pack of panties Sango must have bought for her. Her humour imploding within her, Kagome's heart surged uncomfortably within her chest upon seeing a couple of the books, sweaters, and t-shirts that were Kagome's, items she had lent Sango ages ago. Kagome had held her cloth belongings to her face, bunching the material in her fists, and cried. She was exhausted, emotionally drained, wishing grief would just be done with her and leave her alone.

Kagome had put her newfound cherished items away in the dresser and the smaller of the two walk-in closets. Subdued, strained breaths and breathy sputters lingering from her tears, Kagome had crawled languidly into bed. Despite her exhaustion and desperate wishes for sleep to claim her, the bed and the room had been too foreign to her, and Kagome's tireless thoughts refused to allow her sleep.

Sleep had been a struggle for her all week.

Closing her eyes, Kagome felt the water lap against her body affectionately, rocking her, comforting her. Kagome had been such a festering ball of anxiety she had taken to spending long afternoons doing laps of the pool. She found solace and stress-relief in the water, in the smell of chlorine that tickled her nasal passages. Every day she found herself heading down the long gallery that attached the monstrous house to the pool house. Even though she had been a guest for a week, Kagome still couldn't shake the impulse to tiptoe her way down to the pool house, as if she were somewhere she shouldn't be.

Unfortunately, that feeling of being a fish out of water, of being somewhere she didn't belong, was something that was tightly wound within Kagome's chest—even as she sat there bobbing in the pool's water. Realizing the horrors of her recent reality, Kagome knew she deserved to do something that made her happy; yet, despite her attempts to try to enjoy the pleasures of staying in such a magnificent house, Kagome was still unsettled. Her mind kept forcing her to think about treasures she would never see again, that could never be duplicated. Her fears about the men who came to the house caused her to stir anytime a foreign noise appeared in the night.

She had always struggled with the problem of thinking too much, worrying about others too much, forcing herself to take on too much, putting too much pressure on herself. During the past week, Kagome had become desperate for her brain's 'off' switch. Tears welled up in her eyes at random times. Kagome's appetite was off. And her mind just kept going and going, analysing, worrying, and pondering.

Swimming, she found, was one of the only things that provided her such welcome distraction.

When she had awoken early in the morning, after her first night in the house—barely able to get any sleep in the mountainous duvet that she felt stifled her ability to breath—Kagome wandered the house. Her eyes had gazed curiously over the landmarks Miroku pointed out to her the previous night in a tour he and Inuyasha hoped would get her more acquainted with the house. As she tiptoed down the long hallway, trying to hide her presence like a child sneaking out of bed, Kagome allowed herself to explore. Eventually, that exploration had led her to the pool house.

As she had wandered the interior in the blue-checkered shorts and white long-sleeve pajamas Sango gave her, Kagome recalled the tour she had been given the night before.

Seven bedrooms; five bathrooms; two formal dining rooms (one seating sixteen, the other approximately twenty-four); one breakfast area; a covered veranda on the east-side of the house; a covered portico at the front of the house; a sunroom at the south of the house; the canopied patio-deck; one great room; one gathering room; two libraries (the upstairs one Inuyasha uses as his office); one leisure room, complete with a Shigeru Kawai piano; an impressive open-concept foyer complete with crystal chandelier; an indoor swimming pool connected to the house by a gallery; and a four-car garage.

Bobbling in the water, Kagome wiped at her nose. It still felt overwhelming to her just how monstrous Inuyasha's house really was.

Every night as she lay in the leviathan sleigh bed, Kagome had felt safe, knowing that the fear in response to an unknown sound was unfounded, knowing that security had been intensified following the attack on the house. But the guilt was always at the forefront of her mind; she didn't feel right accepting Inuyasha's offer to stay at the house. The guilt was another culprit keeping her up at night.

Her cheeks inflamed recalling when Inuyasha had shown her the room for the first time, the feeling of her cheek pressed into Inuyasha's rock-hard pectoral muscles and the warmth of his hand on her back. Her eyes performed windshield wiper movements across the glass wall in front of her as she recalled listening to his heartbeat, relieved that his heart was frantic just like hers had been.

Having spent most of her week inside the house—Kagome infrequently went outside—she couldn't believe that this place had been a home to Inuyasha's family for generations. Despite the beauty and magnificence of the place, to Kagome it felt cold. The interior had been completely remodeled so everything was modern, a stark contrast to the ancient and formidable exterior. In it, nothing looked old; however, this modern mansion felt more like a museum than it did a place to grow up and raise a family.

Kagome had taken to speaking with her mother on the phone almost daily. At first, her mother had been so upset that Kagome chose to stay with a complete stranger, rather than her own family, that she had ended the call abruptly. Devastated over the guilt that hung over her head after the call, Kagome had called her mother back later that day, crying and asking her forgiveness, asking her to understand. It took a couple of days, but eventually Mrs. Higurashi came around.

The Shrine was old. It was an aged family home that had been in her grandfather's family for years. It looked lived in. There were marks on the kitchen wall identifying Kagome and Souta's heights over the years. There was the stain on the upstairs carpet from the time Souta intentionally scared Kagome causing her to spill her glass of cola. It was her childhood home, but it was also the place where Kagome was raised without a sense of independence or autonomy. She knew her grandfather and mother's rules were ones created out of love and concern for her and Souta; but, Kagome couldn't stomach the idea of moving back there. She needed to do what she needed to do prioritising her best interest.

Besides, she knew how many people flocked to the Shrine. She knew the media still hounded her family to learn where Kagome was staying, to learn her family's reactions to Kagome's immediate, over-night fame.

Kagome already felt like she was drowning in grief, guilt, and a lack of control over her life. Even Kouga had taken to making decisions for her. He texted her in the middle of the week stating she didn't need to work for a while. He had put her down as taking a short-term leave of absence.

Even if Kagome had wanted to work, that decision was made for her too.

For the first few days staying at the manor house, Kagome kept returning to the comparisons: the museum-like quality of Sengoku Manor versus the worn comfort of her childhood home. Kagome couldn't deny the confliction warring inside her. Stay here or go home? Freedom or no freedom? Guilt for accepting Inuyasha's hospitality for no reason versus the guilt she felt for not wanting to return to her family home—coupled with the guilt she felt for not doing what she could to look after herself. Kagome knew she was burning the candle at both ends, emotionally bleeding herself dry.

Frequently, Kagome chastised herself for allowing herself to be so critical of her situation. It wasn't an everyday occurrence for someone to become involved in a dangerous break-and-enter and then, merely days later, to lose everything she owned in an apartment fire that, at the end of the day, killed 17 people. The magnitude of it all was more than Kagome's mind could apprehend. She tried to convince herself that if she didn't want to go back to the Shrine, her mother's guilt-inducing words shouldn't be the reason Kagome moved back home.

Then there was Inuyasha.

Words couldn't express how much she appreciated everything he had done for her in that one week alone. He had bent over backwards for her to try to make her comfortable. He was the one who told Miroku to give Kagome a tour of the place; he wanted Kagome to treat this place like home. He was the one who ensured the household staff were at Kagome's disposal with anything she needed. Thanks to him, she now had a closet full of beautiful clothes, more shoes than she could dream of owning, and a bottles of perfume or lotions that somehow kept appearing on Kagome's dresser every couple of days.

Sometimes she wished it could be easier for her to accept these gifts without thinking anything of it; but her mother had raised her as a worker, to see the value in things she had worked towards and reap the benefits of her own success. There was no personal accomplishment in Sengoku Manor. Kagome was riding the wave of someone else's success and it made her uncomfortable; it was the exact opposite of how she was raised. She appreciated Inuyasha's generosity so much; but, at the end of the day, that guilt she felt continued to weigh heavier in her stomach. "It's so nice, but it's not right," she would say.

During her week, the two of them hadn't even spent that much time together. Miroku had Inuyasha whisked away from the house in order to appease the media's ravenousness following the break-in. No one had to tell her just how much of a PR nightmare the whole thing had been. During the days, Kagome had to find ways to entertain herself, as Inuyasha flew off to attend the interviews Miroku scheduled for him all across Japan. Some evenings, he claimed to be homesick and wanted his own bed—when really he just felt badly leaving Kagome by herself—and he would arrive home slightly after supper. On those nights, they had sat out on the patio with an evening drink, but even then, Kagome struggled to enjoy herself.

Inuyasha wasn't that obtuse. He could see how badly Kagome was internally struggling with everything. He saw how conflicted she was. But, at the end of the day, he knew there wasn't anything more he could do for her than give her space and let her come to him if she wanted to talk. He had hoped that her calls with her mother would help; however, he had seen, after two days, it merely seemed to make her feel worse. That was when Inuyasha started to bring back souvenirs from his trips across Japan. He would send Miroku or his driver out to collect samples of the latest must-have women's perfumes or lotions that he thought would make Kagome happy to have.

It had devastated him when he saw her fight back tears when she thanked him for the gifts. He grew anxious, frustrated. He couldn't tell if he was making her feel better or worse.

Really, during the week, the only peace Kagome had found for herself was swimming.

She pushed herself to see how long she could go without taking a breath, how many laps could she do in three-minute intervals. The water was her saving grace. Her brain so focused on conserving her air, pushing her muscles to the point of exhaustion, that there was no part of her left to think about the guilt or distress that clung to her.

Peering at the outside landscaping through the glass of the pool house, Kagome sighed. It had been almost four hours since she had seen another person in this monstrous house; her last forty minutes she spent here in the water. After an entire week of coming for her swims, Kagome had never encountered another person here. No one came to disturb her. No one came looking for her.

This place became her own solitary safe space.

Kagome's breath seemed to catch just below her neck, and she felt her chest begin to warm as she recalled her first time entering the pool house. What had begun as innocent curiosity, when she explored Inuyasha's house after her first night there, ended as an exchange between her and Inuyasha that felt hot on her mind.

As she meandered down the long gallery on the first floor of the house, Kagome had distractedly took in the original, glass-enclosed paintings that littered the walls. Sidestepping her way across the wooden floor, the house felt so large Kagome had yet to come in contact with another human being that morning. Her bare feet pattering against the cool floor, the only sound Kagome could hear was a distant lawnmower and the swoosh of her pajama shorts as she walked.

Until, the sound of skin slapping water drew her attention.

Turning over her shoulder, Kagome saw the frosted glass door at the end of the hallway. It was as if the sound of the echoing, chopping waves became louder when it had her full attention. Curiosity getting the best of her—after all, Miroku had pointed out the direction of the pool house but hadn't explicitly shown it to her—Kagome shuffled to the pool house door, leaning her body weight against the swinging door to open it.

She took such pleasure in the chlorine solution smell that assaulted her, and the warm blanket of air that coated her face and the exposed limbs from her pajamas. Kagome's eyes focused on the spirited shimmering of the water's reflection against the one concrete wall of the pool house—the other walls were thick glass—and the reclined chairs pressed up against it. Finally, her eyes turned to notice the diluted image of peach skin under the water. The water slurped at the pool's edges, and she stood just beyond the entrance, the door swaying with a pendulum-like momentum until it finally closed behind her. Kagome's eyes saw the blurry image of green shorts as the swimmer headed towards the shallow end away from her. Eventually reaching the end, the water split with a lung-quaking gasp, and silver hair flipped backwards and dripped down a painfully muscled back.

Kagome's voyeurism made her uncomfortable, and at the sudden sight of Inuyasha emerging from the water, Kagome became deathly aware of how underdressed she was in her pajamas.

Inuyasha, acutely aware of his surroundings, had heard the door swing open; however, in the middle of finishing a lap, he had paid the person no mind, assuming it one of his staff. Sputtering to the surface, he flipped his hair over his head and it slapped against the skin of his back. The ends of his hair leaked water that tickled as it careened down his spine.

"What?" he croaked, turning in the water. His irritated tone echoed throughout the glass room.

Recognition and shock striking his senses, Inuyasha's mind struggled to put two-and-two together, to register that it was Kagome who stood in front of him. His eyes stung slightly from the chlorine and he wiped at them, eventually dropping his hands by his sides. Inuyasha could feel his lime green swim trunks tugging at his thighs with the motions of the water. He couldn't deny the sensation that washed over him that even the water was trying to draw him closer to her.

"Kagome," he said suddenly, his eyes red from the chlorine. His utterance of her name felt large around her with the echo of it. Be it the chlorine, her emotional instability, or the nakedness of Inuyasha's chest, Kagome felt light-headed.

Inuyasha sucked back a breath. He was frightfully aware of how her eyes delicately traced the outline of his chest.

"How did you sleep?" he asked, raising a hand to wipe away drips of water from his chin. He desperately didn't want her to know what the sight of her in her pajamas was doing to him.

"I—uh—okay. Um—thanks," she stuttered. If she hadn't been so distracted by the sight of him she would have rolled her eyes at herself.

The water danced around Inuyasha's waist, the skewed reflection of his green bathing suit causing the water to emanate a florescent glow outwards into the water and upwards onto his skin.

Kagome's eyes became independently operating organs, tracing the 'V' below his Adam's apple that disappeared into his prominent collarbone; the dips of his shoulder muscles; the clearly defined vertical line separating his pectoral muscles; the small, taut, reddened flesh of erect nipples from the chill of the water. Her eyes absorbed the symmetrical veins on each bicep, intentionally skipping over the bandage he wore reminding her of his gunshot wound. Instead, her eyes lowered to take in the flattened hair on his forearms that darkened slightly from the dampness of his skin. She felt her mouth drying as her eyes circled the shadows on his midriff from the strong abdomen, the linear contour outlining the middle of his six-pack, which ended at his belly button.

Kagome had struggled to inhale, her chest feeling constricted. How could a belly button look so sexy, to cause her to react this way? Her eyes dared to trace lower, to swallow in the image of clustered, wetted hair, leading her eyes dangerously below the waistband of his bathing suit.

The warmth that began in Kagome's cheeks had plummeted lower, gathering in her stomach. The heat alarmingly, rashly, seeped even lower, transforming into a moistness between her legs. She couldn't remember the last time the sight of a man had caused this type of response from her. The length of time between now and the last time she had been with a man suffocated Kagome. She wanted to feel the moisture of Inuyasha's shoulders under the pads of her dry fingers. She wanted her fingers to trace the stiff mounds of flesh on his abdomen. She wanted to feel the sensation of her warm tongue dipping into the space between his collarbone, and taste the saltiness and moistness of his saturated skin.

When Inuyasha said her name again, questioningly, she absentmindedly gave her head a little shake to snap herself out of it. What she was doing, how she was staring, was so inappropriate. Her enflamed cheeks made her face so warm she felt her hairline trickle with sweat. As her eyes rose over his upper torso to meet his eyes, her embarrassment doubled, tripled even. Her blushing was made all the worse from the smile on his face and the intensity at which he looked at her with his burning amber eyes.

He wasn't an idiot; he knew exactly what she was doing, how she was looking at him. He knew the spectacle of his nakedness affected her. A smile toyed on the corner of his lips. He would even argue the sight of him pleased her.

"Everything okay?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.

Kagome blinked madly, trying to dispel the glaze of arousal from her sight. "F—fine," she stuttered.

As he waded from the water, his trunks bellowing around each thick-muscled thigh, Inuyasha ascended the stairs. The water desperately clung to and pulled at his body with a noisy shush. Kagome watched with an aching heart as his bathing suit clung to him in all the right places. As Inuyasha walked towards his red towel tossed casually onto a chair, Kagome watched as the wetness of his trunks clutched the skin of his lower torso, outlining a particular area that left nothing to the imagination. Kagome had been overrun by memories of his fingernails on her thighs, teasing at the hem of her sequin dress, his breath on her forehead, the hardness of his member pressed into the crevasse of Kagome's buttocks. Kagome gulped, feeling a heaviness developing within her sex. She was so aroused her fingers were trembling.

"Are you sure you're okay, Kagome?" he called from underneath his towel. Kagome watched him tousle his locks underneath the red bath sheet.

She nodded and licked her lips. "Yeah, I—uh—"

For the love of God, Kagome, stop it. This is so…he is so… Even her mind couldn't operate around how flustered she was.

"I remembered Miroku pointing the pool house out and…" she gulped as Inuyasha turned around. The material of his shorts gave her a perfect outline of his perfectly shaped ass. She swore in her mind before forcing the words out of her. "I wanted to check it out."

"Huh," he returned, finally facing her with the towel wrapped around his waist. With his vibrant green swimsuit no longer visible, he could have been completely naked under that towel for all Kagome knew. The premise caused a tingling sensation to spark up her spine.

"I'll have to get Yura to get you a bathing suit then, too."

"Yura?" Kagome's mouth dryly echoed. She couldn't help the twitch in her heartbeat from the sound of another woman's name leaving his lips.

"My stylist," he replied, walking towards her.

Lord give me the strength, Kagome begged as the sight of his devilishly handsome face and—the word perfect kept repeating itself in her head—perfect body approached her. His silver locks hung limply against his chest, and Kagome couldn't help but notice how his nipples still prominently jutted themselves out from the outline of his chest, pushing themselves out in between his strands of hair.

"I had Miroku call her last night. She'll be here just after lunch today for your sizing appointment."

Kagome's mouth hung open. He had to be…four? Five feet away from her at most. Her head was swimming.

"Sizing appointment?"

Inuyasha snorted and placed his hands on his towel-covered hips. "You plan on living in those pajamas, Kagome?" he asked smugly. His eyebrow disappeared underneath the canopy of his bangs

Kagome had widened her stance, playing with the hem of her long-sleeve pajama top. "Well, no—"

"Yura's one of the best stylists across the Western seaboard. She'll provide you with everything you need."

And later that day, her appointment with Yura had caused her head to spin. The woman was flamboyant, speedy, and sultry with her oxen blood coloured lipstick. Kagome's entire face had been a flush as Yura, in the confines of Kagome's massive walk-in closet, had Kagome strip to her bra and panties so Yura could obtain appropriate measurements. Kagome had flushed when Yura's hands connected with the front of Kagome's bra padding atop her nipples, when Yura's fingers traced closely to the middle of Kagome's legs to get her inseam.

The next day, Kagome had awoken to both closets, and her dresser, full of the most beautiful—and God knows how expensive—clothing she could ever imagine.

Back in the present, Kagome groaned before resting her forehead against her hands. The memory of shirtless Inuyasha had haunted her all week.

She decided that living at Inuyasha's was going to be the death of her. Ever since that one, stupid confrontation in the pool house, everything became sexual to Kagome. Once her appointment with Yura had ended, Kagome had immediately gone to take a shower, so overwhelmed by guilt and arousal that she decided to try the detachable showerhead for the first time.

Kagome flushed, feeling so unlike herself right at that moment. She had never been insatiable like this before. Why was being so close to Inuyasha like this any different? Was her body yearning for him because of Kobura? Because they had almost kissed? Because he saved her life? Because she was so desperate to feel anything other than guilt or distress? Because cumming, just like swimming, gave Kagome the calm and the distraction that she was so desperate for?

Both shamefully and shamelessly, Kagome had found some respite in pleasing herself once a day, usually in the shower. Like her daily swims, it gave her mind peace, it allowed her muscles to relax, it gave Kagome the control she felt had been taken from her life.

Closing her eyes once again in the pool, Kagome thought about her initial encounter with Inuyasha in the pool house. She remembered how closely he stood to her just in front of the door. She remembered the way he smirked at her, arguably enjoying the way her eyes devoured the sight of him.

And the truth was, Inuyasha couldn't help smirking at her then, realizing that she was having trouble composing herself. The smell of chlorine had radiated off his skin, dominating his senses; however, infrequent wafts of Kagome's scent graced his nose, causing his stomach to churn.

He had felt himself allured by the sight of her in the pajamas. His eyes had scoured her body, appreciating how much skin her shorts revealed, and how tightly the long-sleeve shirt hugged her slim stomach and breasts. His eyes had hovered over the distracting mounds of flesh while he toweled himself dry. He could tell her bra was red or purple, the colour of it visible underneath the almost, but not quite, sheer white of her shirt.

Seeing her legs exposed like that caused memories to surge before his eyes of the night at Kobura. He could still feel the warmth of her back pressed against his chest, the softness of her thigh under his fingertips. A part of him hated that she wore a long-sleeve like this. In his mind's eye, he saw visions of an alternative future where he pressed her against the pool house wall and devoured her red-lipped mouth with his. He saw the way she sucked on her bottom lip when she eyed him in the pool. He could almost smell the arousal on her, her face was so flushed.

If only the reality of the previous day hadn't been such an irrefutable force, Inuyasha's instincts would have had no delay in sucking on her neck and raising her arms above her head so he could discard the annoying cloth barrier. Inuyasha felt an ache in the pit of his stomach to imagine the sound she would make as he took a pert, flushed nipple in his mouth. But Inuyasha kept his distance from Kagome. He knew that she needed the space and time to get acquainted with the foreign surroundings and the new direction she would need to take her life. Having her so close was starting to get under his skin. Just knowing she slept a floor beneath him made him restless at night. It wouldn't be fair for her if he should act on an attraction. It had only been a week, after all. He knew there would be plenty of time for them to spend together.

Despite his understanding, however, Inuyasha couldn't deny the growl that had threatened to escape his throat from his desire for skin-on-skin contact.

But he wasn't the only one. Their encounter preoccupied Kagome's mind. When the guilt and her strife became too much, her thoughts returned to how badly she had ached for Inuyasha in the warmth of the pool house. Kagome felt her Kegel muscles flex as her mind returned to the present. She was still in the pool, the water lifting her slowly up and down against the boundary of the pool. Alone in the humidity of the pool house, Kagome rested her forehead against her hands, releasing a tense, aroused breath between her lips.

He had shown a gentleness with her after the fire. And then with all his gifts, he had been so generous to try and make up for all the things Kagome had lost. Of all the encounters she had had with him to date, why did she have to remember that pool house encounter like this?

The memory of him leaving after, pushing his body through the swinging door, had left her feeling cold. She had almost wanted to reach out for him, beg him not to leave her alone. They barely knew each other. Why did her body react to him like that? After the traumatic experiences she had been through, sex should be the furthest thing from her mind. However, living in Inuyasha's house, his scent everywhere—even her own room for Christ's sake—Inuyasha was the opposite of the furthest thing from her mind.

Kagome joined her legs together, feeling the nub between her legs pulse cravingly from the pressure.

With Inuyasha on the brain, a sudden, erotic thought came upon her that Kagome blushed at having. She couldn't…she thought, biting her lip, raising her head. Her heart pounded at the thought and she turned a hesitant look over her shoulder at the doorway. No one ever came in here when she was. After that one meeting with Inuyasha, she hadn't seen him in the pool house again after that. The pool house really had become her own independent safe space.

Mustering her courage, desperate for that bit of control and agency she longed for in the past week, Kagome used the wall to guide her body to where she knew the closest water jet was. Slowing to a stop, her body ebbing and flowing with the movement of water, she gripped the wall tightly with her fingers. Her body immobile, Kagome could feel the charge of water pressure against her thigh. Her eyes widened at the realization of what she was thinking about doing. Her womanhood ached with the need for release. Her brain was so tired from constantly running, she felt a headache developing in her left temple. If she didn't obtain her release here, she knew it would make for a long, uncomfortable walk back to the second floor bathroom.

Her shoulders tight, Kagome faced the concrete wall, the frosted door to the pool house immediately on her left. Staring forward at the wall, the entrance from the house was blaringly present within her peripheral sight.

How could you even think about doing this? A voice screamed from within her. This is so inappropriate. You should be ashamed of yourself. Women don't do this. Ladies don't touch themselves in public. This is disgusting, you—

No, you don't get to judge me, the devil's advocate voice that Kagome recognized spoke up firmly. Kagome fought away tears that came to her eyes with the confliction. Her heart was pounding she was so at odds with herself. Her mind was desperate for peace; her body was so desperate for release. Guilt, shame, distress, anxiety; Kagome felt like she could explode.

They took everything from you, the voice continued. You're done with being a victim. You're done with cowering, done with being afraid. No one comes into this stupid room. This is Kagome's safe space. This is the only space that has truly been yours this entire week. You're so stressed you need this. Make the choice. You get to decide how you can feel better, when you can feel better.

Kagome felt empowerment swell within her breast.

Taking a deep breath, she adjusted her body ever so slightly until she could feel the intensity of the water rushing against the material of her bathing suit bottom, against the core between her legs. To think of the joy, the recklessness of what she was doing; the autonomy and choice behind her decision caused a rush within her chest. Kagome couldn't believe she had resorted to this. She couldn't believe such a scandalous idea had come upon her. To think that she had been driven to this because of thoughts of Inuyasha.

Kagome could barely contain the excitement she felt over achieving comfort and happiness by a decision she had made.

She was proud of herself for what she was doing. Despite the small voice within her that was mortified with her actions, overall, Kagome was pleased with herself. She had never done something so risqué. The excitement was tantalizing she could have burst out laughing. Kagome was finally adhering to Sango's advice and doing what she could for her own happiness. The pool house was her safe place, it was where she could think without distraction, lose her stresses without worry. It was the only place where she ever found her brain's 'off' switch.

Both arms still flat against the floor in front of her, Kagome closed her eyes. The pink material of the bathing suit's halter-top bunched her breasts together underneath her chin. Kagome drew herself closer the wall, feeling her breasts press up against the pool's satiny boundary. The pressure from the water jet caused her stomach to tighten.

With a sly smile crawling from the edges of her mouth, Kagome lowered her left hand into the water, lifted her thighs on either side of the water jet, and pulled her black bathing suit bottom to the side.

The pressure was delicious.

Kagome immediately gasped, and bucked her hips against the flow of water. Her body jolted by the incredible lightening bolt of pleasure that erupted within her womanhood. She clenched the fingers of her right hand holding her body against the wall, against the intensive jet of water. Adjusting her body millimetres at a time, Kagome knew there was a sweet spot on her clitoris, somewhere that the jetstream of the showerhead found expertly every time. After just a couple positional adjustments, a low, throaty "oh my God" escaped her lips when the water jet found the revered spot; the angle at which the water hit her clit caused Kagome's eyes to roll to a close. She was desperate not to move. Kagome inhaled so quickly her lungs felt large and expansive in her chest. Squeezing her closed eyes, an involuntary soft moan escaped her lips.

She needed this. She was so wound up, so stressed; she needed this.

The openness of where she was and what she was doing caused her body to pulse with pleasure. She shamelessly allowed her mind to wander to the thoughts of the water trickling down Inuyasha's body, the outline of his member within his water-soaked shorts.

Kagome had never minded performing fellatio—she was firmly of the opinion that you get what you give—but she was suddenly overwhelmed by the desire to know what Inuyasha's hardened erection would taste like.

From the water's consistent, hard attention, Kagome felt her clitoris begin to numb deliciously from the pressure building deep within. She knew that if she didn't adjust her position, she would cum any second, and the body-numbing sensation of such all-encompassing pleasure was too much she refused to allow it to end so soon.

With her thighs spread on either side of the jet, Kagome's fingers felt dulled from the intensity of her grip. She angled her lower torso to the left, allowing the water to hit the opposite side of her clitoris, and the fresh pressure caused her hardened nub to reignite with indulgence. It triggered another moan as her eyelashes fluttered. Kagome's fingers tightened around the material of her bathing suit bottom, desperate to keep it well away from the erogenous zone. She felt a coil churning and churning deep within her, the compression building.

She was almost there.

Tightening her eyes, Kagome clenched the fingers holding her against the wall into a fist. Her fingers were pink and white from how tightly she clung to it, mentally begging for her release.

Almost there. Almost there, she chanted over and over in her mind.

From previous orgasms she knew that the more she thought about cumming the less likely it was to happen. But desperation swam heavily within Kagome's chest. She wanted release so badly; she flexed her Kegel muscles hopeful it would bring her orgasm upon her sooner.

She swore the water rippled from every sonic beat of her heart.

A shudder erupting within her midsection caused Kagome's hips to buck wildly. The pressure, the pleasure, was almost too much she couldn't take it. She had to compel her body not to turn away from it, not to allow her legs to close or move. Kagome fought with her body, forcing herself to take just a little bit more attention against the mouth-watering place where the water pulsated against her sensitive nub.

The pleasure was explosive; the expression on her face could have been mistaken for one of pain. She knew she was on the final wave of her climax. Kagome recognized the sickly sweet warmth causing her vaginal walls to squeeze, to quake. She wanted to shake her head back and forth; the building pressure was so delectable. Instead, she settled for leaning her head back to the point where cool water embraced the back of her scalp. Her eyes were squeezed shut. Her mouth was open. Her bottom lip trembled for eminent release.

Almost there. Please, God…

Two things happened then. Kagome came, and Inuyasha walked into the pool house just in time to see it.

Author's Note

In university, I read a paper written by a survivor of trauma, claiming that her sexuality was the only thing that helped her cope with the stress of what she'd been through. Her decisions to engage in sexual activities gave her complete liberation when she had otherwise lost all control in her life.

I thought it was such a profound way to look at coping with grief that it's always stuck with me.

So much has happened to Kagome; she is so emotionally charged, she doesn't know what she can do to feel better. Mostly, this chapter was inspired by my desire to give Kagome a moment to reclaim her agency after everything she'd been through.

But I decided to throw that ending in there as a treat for you all ;)

How will Inuyasha react? How will Kagome recover from this embarrassing confrontation?

**Stay tuned!**