I mean, where the fuck else am I going to go? Taiwan?
The loony bin, maybe.
It's where I belong for entertaining the idea of me, being the illicit secret flame of a superstar idol.
When he comes back, he's got something black in his hands, though it looks faded and worn. I think it's a shirt, though I can't be sure. He comes to stand behind me again, but this time he takes me by the shoulders and turns me around, and in seconds, he's bent over at the waist and busy picking my skirt up off the floor.
I jerk my leg back, confused and a little gun-shy. And I get laughed at for my effort. "Hold still, would ya? Just for a second."
And then, true to word, he takes only a second, lifting the dress up and over my head in one smooth, clean movement, and tosses it in the general direction of the table nearby.
It misses entirely and puddles on the floor.
"Now, let's put you in something a little more comfortable than that thing." He takes the black fabric off his shoulders and I recognize it as one of the shirts he wears a lot at dance practice. It's one of his favorites, a worn vintage tee with his favorite old band on the back. He drags the top over my head, and it falls over my bare body, clothing me once again, like battle armor. Kai's hands skim my skin as he tugs it into place, down over my ribs, letting it fall around my waist to hit me mid-thigh. It's huge, on either of us, but he likes it that way, and honestly, so do I.
"Kai—"
"Shhh," his eyes scan me as he inspects his handiwork. "Let me look at you."
He does more than that. He picks me up by the waist and sets me on the counter, too, and now my bare ass is cold against some solid marble, while a man I wouldn't have ever imagined being with like this watches my eyes and puts his hands on my knees, spreading them slowly.
I don't fight him, either. I guess that's a testament to how persuasive the man can be when he wants to be.
Instead of doing anything naughty right away, he simply parts my legs enough to step between them, and then moves into place, wrapping them around his waist as his hands drop and slide up my thighs, coming to a stop on my hips, over the shirt.
"See, now this is nice. I told you so."
Huh?"Told me what?"
"I told you that you'd look sexy as fuck in nothing but my tee shirt the morning after." His grin curls smugly. "I was right."
"Wait a second." I put a hand on his chest, stalling what I assume is him trying to get frisky again, so I can sort something out.When the fuck—?"When did you say that?"
"The night you rescued me from the alley, remember?"
"Honestly, I'm surprisedyoucan even remember that," I say pointedly, remembering how out of it he was that night. "You were pretty bad off, Kai."
"Don't remind me," he says with a shiver. "That was rough. But having you there made it better."
I remember the time I spent soothing him as he slept, petting his brow, brushing the hair from his eyes as I dozed in and out. I didn't think he even knew I was there. "Really?"
"I've never had anyone voluntarily take care of me like that outside of my own family." The admission is a heavy one, and I imagine the strength it takes to admit it. "It felt nice. Especially since it came from you."
My cheeks heat in a blush, and I fan them in the hopes it'll hide my distress. It's a futile attempt, because Kai sees right through it. "Oh."
Kai leans in over the counter, over my waist, and places a kiss against the hollow of my throat, though it's a stretch for him, since I'm on the counter. "You're so beautiful like this,kara.Soft, warm, freshly fucked,"I blush at the image,"and wearing nothing but my shirt."
I don't see it. "I'm hardly all that damn pretty, Kai?—"
His lips crash against my own in a heartbeat. I can barely blink before he's tugging me against him, my thighs clenching around his waist as he kisses me stupid, silencing my protests with his tongue and teeth and lips. Dammit, I had a point to make by leaving his bed this morning, I wanted to sort things out. And now, all I'm managing to do is let him undo all the worries and misgivings I had about this with a single kiss, a single look, a single smile.
My guard is down too low if I can't even tell this man no long enough to think straight.
Maybe that's not such a bad thing.
Iknowthat's notmyconsciousness saying such blasphemous things. No way. Me, the woman who's guarded herself for so long out of necessity, out of habit. The woman who refuses to let others perceive her as weak or desperate. Denali Stone, hard worker, Jack of all trades, assistant to the stars.
Puddle for Kai Kobayashi. Add that to the resumé, too, I guess.
