DRAWN (15 page)

          “I didn’t realize you’re the type to know your restaurants,
senpai
.” Yuki looks impressed.

          Too bad I have to disappoint him.

          “I don’t. But I know enough because I watch all of Gordon Ramsay’s shows on TV.”

          “You like to cook,
senpai
?”

          I know he’s going to laugh at me for this, but I tell him anyway. “No. But I learn all my bad words from him.”

          Yuki’s laughter spills to my skin like a delicious sensation, and I beam at the sound of it. The more time I spend with him, the more I realize how much he hides when he’s in school.

          “Bloody hell,” he says, baby blues gleaming wickedly.

          I glower, but inside I’m swooning. I’ll never tell him how much my knickers get all twisted up when he turns Brit. Maybe Yuki’s right. I should try having him really turn Brit when I fantasize about him. We’d be on the bed, under the sheets, and Yuki would raise himself on his elbows, his burning gaze roaming my body as he says hoarsely---

          “No fantasies, remember,
senpa
i?” Yuki flicks me on the forehead.

          I scowl. “That hur---” I suck my breath sharply when Yuki stretches to his full length on his seat, a semi-resting god waiting to be served. His knees force its way between my legs until mine are completely wide open. The muscles in his bare legs make mine feel absurdly soft and sensitive. His skin feels oddly hot, and the heat makes me feel I’m dissolving.

          Yuki looks at me with his angel’s smile.

          “Piss off,” I growl under my breath. When I start to move my chair back, Yuki retaliates by moving forward, keeping his legs between mine.

          “Yuki,” I hiss even as I feel my face heat up.

          Yeeargh!

          This feels so…bad. Hot. But still, bad. Even the winds seem to play to Yuki’s tunes, and I can feel my body stirring as the gentle breezes tease the inside of my thighs.

          “Relax,
senpai
.”

          “Piss off.”

          Yuki’s hand settles on my knee under the table. The heat from his hand travels throughout my body.

          I glare at him. “Piss---”

          “Sir, madam, your appetizer,” the waiter says, coming out of nowhere and turning me into a statue in my seat. I’m scared that he’d know how exactly things are under the table if I move.

          Yuki takes his hand away, but his legs stay between mine throughout dinner. He doesn’t make any other attempt to touch me, but he doesn’t have to. Who knew just having your legs wide open is such an embarrassingly huge turn-on? I mean, did you? I totally didn’t, and it’s enough to make my head spin.

          “How are the legs,
senpai
?”

          I choke on the water I’m trying to sip as delicately as possible. I’ve seen the other patrons doing it, and I’m envious at how they can seem to drink and eat with their lips no more than a millimeter apart. How do they do that?

          “Umm…” We’re going to talk about our legs, really?

          “Do you like it?”

          I glare at him. “No.”

          Yuki just laughs. “Why ever not,
senpai
? I’ve heard it in good authority that the frog legs here are their specialty.”

          “Oh, real---the what?” I look at my plate in horror.

          Yuki laughs harder.

          These are frog legs? I thought they were legs of malnourished chicken. And the dish sounded really good in French!

          The rest of the meal was lovely. Or at least, I have this vague
idea
that it was lovely but for the life of me I can’t recall what we’ve eaten except for the blasted legs. It’s just hard to concentrate when Yuki keeps trying to prying my legs open wider, I keep trying to close mine, and the continuous contact of his skin with mine just drove me nuts.

          Twenty minutes later, we get back to our cottage just as the clock strikes twelve. I feel like it’s a bad omen since it’s the exact moment Yuki also invites me for a swin.

I take a step back, groping the air for excuses. “It’s really late…”

          Yuki’s fingers wrap around my wrist. I look at it with glazed eyes, seeing how tiny and delicate my wrist looks between his long fingers.

          “We should take a swim,
senpai
.” He bends close to whisper in my ear, “You’re the kind of toy that gets really nice and slick when wet.”

          I’m a goner after that.

          Yuki leads me to the mid-sized infinity pool outside our cottage, which overlooks the empty beach with its powdery sand and swaying palm trees, the gently rolling waves bathed in golden light coming from the resort’s lantern posts.

          With the full moon shining behind Yuki, it’s almost like even the whole skies are paying homage to his godliness.

          Yuki takes a lock of my hair, placing a gentle kiss on its tips as he says, “I want to take your dress off,
senpai
.”

          When he reaches for the drawstrings of my summer dress, I start to move, too. I’m all thumbs as I pull the shirt over his head, inhaling sharply at the sight it reveals. Golden skin, toned muscles – bloody hell, somebody please tell me if I’m about to drool. I’ll kill myself before I do.

          Yuki moves with agonizing slowness, careful not to touch my skin as he draws the strings loose, and my dress begins to gape open. The loud beat of my heart punctuates every second that passes and as Yuki pushes the sleeves past my shoulders, bit by bit, like a child carefully unwrapping his first Christmas present. By the time my dress fall to the floor, joining Yuki’s discarded shirt, I’m crazy breathless in excitement. I’ll be lucky if I don’t get a heart attack by the time I’m half naked.

          Yuki stares at my bikini clad body for a long, long time. I want to kiss him so bad I’m practically shaking at the effort it’s costing me not to move.

          “Come into the pool with me,
senpai
.”

          The fire beckons. The moth follows.

          He steps into the pool first, holding my hand as he guides me down. I’m pleasantly surprised to feel a rush of beautifully hot water greeting me as I lower myself into the pool. I’m even more surprised when Yuki actually takes a seat in a corner. That’s when I realize the pool is lined with a built-in ledge that can double for seats.

          I gulp at the possibilities that ledge would bring.

          Yuki pulls me to sit between his legs, my back to him.

          “Relax,
senpai
,” he whispers again, nuzzling my neck.

          Does he know how hard that is when you feel like your body is about to explode in a mass of heated sensations?

          But as the minutes trickle by, I find myself relaxing, lulled by the serene silence and the lapping water.

It’s also the exact time I feel his hands span my waist.

          I freeze.

          His fingers slowly move up, inch by painful inch, past my ribs and stopping just below my bikini top.

          I whimper.

          “I like the sound of that a lot,
senpai
. Do it again.”

          I shake my head. “People may hear---”

          His hands have crept inside my bikini top, just enough to graze the undersides of my flesh.

          I whimper again. I can’t help it.

          Yuki pulls me back against him, and I feel his heart thudding hard. I swallow, because it’s not the only thing that’s hard.

          This is soooo bad.

          We don’t speak, but his fingers stay there, unmoving, a threat that I don’t know if I want to run to or away from.

          “Yu---”

          His fingers move on cue and I gasp when his hands have completely cupped me.

          “Like it,
senpai
?” Yuki asks, but his voice is a little hoarse and I know that we both have the same answer to his question.

          When Yuki’s hands tighten around me, my head falls back involuntarily. He kisses my neck even as his hands continue playing with me. I turn my head sideways and we kiss. Our lips touch, our tongues meet, and his hands move just a fraction more roughly, wildly, possessively. My body submerges in a fusion of water and heat.

          I only notice my top is completely gone when we are facing each other and our naked bodies touch.

          I moan, unable to help it, no longer caring if someone might hear me.

          “Again,” Yuki demands, just as he wraps my legs around his waist and bites my ear.

          Of course I moan. It’s impossible not to.

          Yuki sucks my neck, kisses my shoulders, and all the while his hands don’t stop moving, touching, and playing. Then he thrusts hard the same time he pulls me close, holding me to him so tightly that my head starts to spin. A guttural sound escapes past his lips, and I feel it, oh, I feel it, even if it’s not inside me.

          Fireworks of dazzling colors burst behind my eyelids.

          I feel Yuki smiling against my hair an eternity later, my body limp against his. “Didn’t I tell you I’d make you pay,
senpai
?”  

“You did,” I say, still dizzy with pleasure.

          If it’s up to me, I’ll keep paying. I’ll even get a loan so I can pay him endlessly---

          I gasp as Yuki snatches me out of my thoughts by suddenly flipping us around, and he’s standing between my legs while I find myself seated on the ledge, completely exposed like an offering bared to a god.

          My hands rise instinctively to cover myself, but Yuki’s as fast as always, shackling my wrists and holding them down.

          His baby blue eyes are gleaming brightly.

          Oh, shite.

          “Again?” I whisper incredulously.

          Yuki nods solemnly. “Again.”

“Please…don’t move…just one second…” I am in an utter frenzy, and I will just
die
if he makes me stop.

          “
Senpai
,” Yuki growls, hands clenching. “You told me---”

          “I’m almost done, please, please, just one more second,” I beg.

          Today’s my first time to see Yuki wearing a sleeveless shirt –
Eminem-style
is the word that dances in my mind – which he has paired with black cotton cargo-styled pants. He has dark shades pushed up on his head and glinting in his ear is a tiny silver loop which I couldn’t resist buying ever since I found out his ear is pierced.

          He’s seated across me on a brown
rattan
chair, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped under his chin like he’s thinking how it is if we, umm, shag each other. Or at least that’s what I told him to concentrate on while he holds his pose.

          It’s Yuki at his sexiest, and I just can’t pass up the opportunity to make a quick sketch of him this way, especially with the quaintly charming background of Key West’s Old Town district.

Historic conch houses, with whitewashed wooden posts and welcoming porches, have been converted into cozy, charming cafes and antique stores oozing with personality. I love how the world here has slowed down, but not to the point of death by the name of boredom starts hunting you down.

          And I know this will make me sound like a total
otaku
– which basically means a dork with an obsession, and that would be
manga
in my case – but I just totally fell in love with the
juxtapose
(a verbal gift from Shelley) of Yuki with his casual, modern, drop-dead-gorgeous attire amidst buildings that have stood guard with the ocean’s rumbling waves for years and years.

          “Finished!” I straighten, and a surprised yelp of pain escapes me when my back immediately protests at the sudden movement. After more than an hour of bending over my sketchpad and painstakingly drawing every beautiful line and curve of Yuki to perfection, I think I’ve injured my spine.

          Yuki leaps from the seat with such agile grace it leaves me with my mouth hanging open. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut for a moment, hoping I can burn that split-second image in my mind. I have to draw that. I will kill myself if I don’t get to draw that.

          I reach for my sketchbook and freeze midway, another yelp of pain coming out of my mouth.

          Blast it, this hurts.

          “Stop moving,” Yuki snaps as he tosses my sketchbook out of reach. “This is why I told you to stretch once in a while,
senpai
.” His tone is still mad, but his touch is gentle when he starts massaging my back, careful to knead only the muscles on the sides of my spine.