Sawyer

The limo takes us right up to the baggage air-check, but we go inside because we’re in first class. Mia is still quiet as a mouse. It alternately makes me feel like a monster to know that she’s too nervous around me to talk, and irritated that she won’t just relax and have a nice time with me.

I wish I could tell her why I’m frustrated.

Or actually, I wish I could just throw these bags down and put my arm around her waist, and crush her lips to mine while my hand slides down the sweet curves of her ass. Neither of those things is going to happen, though, and it’s driving me crazy that I can’t seem to do anything right when it comes to her.

“Sawyer,” she says, before elbowing me in the side.

“Ouch,” I answer, frowning as I look at her. “What was that for?”

Mia gives me an expectant look and then jerks her head toward the woman in front of us. “The nice lady, um, wants your passport?”

I realize I’ve been off in my own little world when I find myself face to face with the check-in attendant, who is not amused that I’m holding up the line.

“Oh, of course. Here you are,” I say, before checking the inner pocket of my coat and handing her the document.

Mia puts hers next to mine, and I briefly think about the difference in ages the agent will see when she scans the document. I wonder what she thinks about that. Probably nothing. Or, if anything, she probably thinks that I’m Mia’s uncle or some shit.

Not that I care, of course. People can think whatever they want. It’s not like Mia and I are doing anything.

We’re just old friends. And work associates.

That’s all. End of story.

“Thank you, sir,” she answers and hands me everything including the boarding pass. “You are both welcome to spend some time in our luxury lounge, located just after security before your gate, which is twenty-three.”

“Great. Thank you,” I answer, and finally free of our bags, I smile at Mia and take her by the arm to security. I love the way she looks up at me.

“Luxury lounge?” she gasps as soon as we’re out of earshot. “Sounds fancy.”

“Fancy for an airport, I guess.” I grin. “It’s nothing compared to what’s waiting for us in Tokyo, though.”

I’m not trying to show off, but I love the way she reacts to some of the more luxurious things that I’ve started taking for granted. It makes me appreciate everything a little more when I’m able to see things through a different lens. And she notices everything.

I honestly can’t get enough of it.

“Do you know the city well?” she asks. “Tokyo, I mean.”

“As a matter of fact, I spent a couple of years there a while back, when I was in the military. Learned the language and everything.”

She narrows her eyes and gives me a look that’s skeptical. “Seriously? You can speak Japanese?”

“Yeah, of course.” I shrug as if it should be obvious. Inside, I’m kind of loving the attention, though. At least the long silent treatment I’ve been suffering through seems to be over. “Why do you think so much of my business deals with Japan?”

“That’s so cool,” she says and squeezes my arm. It’s probably an unconscious gesture on her part, but it makes me want to put my around her.

So I do, but just for a second.

It’s the best second I’ve had in a long time, as she melts against me, her body fitting perfectly against mine. It feels glorious, and my cock twitches in agreement. But we’re almost at security and I have to get my papers out again.

Now that I know she’s receptive to being a little closer, though, I’m feeling better and more relaxed by the minute. Maybe she just needed some time to warm back up to me. That’s entirely understandable after the way I’ve been acting for the past few days.

Hopefully, after some hors-d'oeuvres and a drink or two, we’ll both be feeling a little less edgy. Maybe then, we can both start to enjoy this trip together. That’s all I’ve wanted, all this time.

By the time we get to the gate, we still have forty-five minutes before take-off, so we head into the lounge. It’s a nice one, tranquil, carpeted, with an ornate wooden bar. The bartender is wearing a tux and serves us some excellent champagne.

“Please help yourself to some appetizers,” he says, gesturing to a table full of luxury finger-foods.

“Is that caviar?” Mia squeaks. “I’m terrified of caviar.”

I stifle a laugh but quirk an eyebrow in her direction. “Terrified is a pretty strong reaction to fish eggs. You aren’t terrified of all raw fish, are you, because we’re going to Japan.” Now I can’t help but grin a little. “You know what most maki is…”

“Yes, I know,” she answers, looking doubtful. “I’ve been doing my research into all things Japanese. But if I'm honest, I’ve never had it. It just seems so… scary. Or intimidating, maybe.”

I can understand that, at least. Diving into another culture like this is a little daunting at first, but it’s the best way to do it, in my opinion. But it just reminds me how young she is. Like a little bird, that needs protection.

“Well, I’m here with you, so you don’t need to be intimidated at all. And I’m happy to make your first.” I reach to the table, carefully selecting some maki rolls bejeweled with bright orange roe, a little wasabi, and some soy sauce. “Just follow my lead.”

“I know you won’t steer me wrong,” she answers. When I look up, she’s both blushing and eager. She’s leaning into me and looking at the plate and I can smell the fresh scent of her hair. Like strawberries.

“So take the chopsticks like this,” I demonstrate, and she tries, but I have to show her with my hands. I’m reminded of the first time we ate lunch together, and my cock is instantly rigid. As I move her fingers and cup her hands, the electricity is too much to bear. She looks shocked for a second and pulls away.

“Maybe I’ll try it in Japan,” she says quietly and hands me back the maki roll.

I pop it into my mouth to buy a few seconds while I try to figure out how to respond. I don’t want her to see that I’m disappointed, and I sure as hell don’t want her to think I’m angry again. I finally decide on trying to sound nonchalant. “Suit yourself,” I say, forcing a smile and giving a half-shrug. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

If she were anyone else, I’d swear she was playing with me, toying with my thoughts and emotions. But I just can’t see Mia doing that.

That’s not who she is.

Then again, maybe I’m the one who’s being naive here. I’m dreaming about a girl I can never have. Maybe I need to back off before I go too far. Before I say or do something stupid, something I can’t take back.

Something I’ll end up regretting.

When we arrive in Tokyo, we’re both a bit jet-lagged despite the extreme luxury of the sleep pods in first class. But, despite all that, I was able to charm Mia into being a lot more loose with me, and we talked, smiling and laughing, throughout the evening. I wanted to pull her into the tiny bed in my pod, wrap my arms around her and take her, but I forced myself to keep some distance. It would probably be easier for everyone if she were to date someone like Tate. This limbo we’re in is intolerable.

The only good thing about this sexual frustration is that it makes me feel that more determined to get this account locked down. If I can’t fuck the shit out of her, I have to succeed at something, and that something might as well be Nakamura’s money.

We check in and Mia looks at me, mouth hanging open when she hears me speak Japanese. I guess she didn’t figure I was fluent since I don’t speak Japanese to Nakamura on the phone. He told me when we first talked that he wants to practice his English, but now that we’re here in Tokyo, I’ll need to conduct nearly everything in their language. It’s part of how things are done. They’ll appreciate the respect it shows them.

Mia hangs off my arm as I discuss the rooms with the front desk attendant. Seeing Mia hold my arm, the attendant asks me discreetly in Japanese if we wouldn’t prefer a suite, and though Mia’s little fingers curled around my bicep tempt me, and as much as I want to cancel everything and spend the trip in bed, I tell her no. If I’m going to have any chance to stay focused on this trip, I’ll need my own space. Mia drives me wild enough as it is. I don’t think I could control myself if I were in the same suite. The attendant then asks if we want a connecting door between our rooms.

Is she trying to get me to fuck things up? I have to give her credit for being persistent.

“What’s she asking?” whispers Mia in my ear, seeing me pause.

“Nothing,” I say. “Just some details of the room.”

“I hope mine is close to yours. Otherwise, I’m going to feel pretty alone here,” she says, biting her lip. “I’ve never been so far from home. Everything is so different.”

“Don’t worry,” I say. “You’re not alone. You have me.” I regret the way I smile at her as soon as the words leave my mouth, but I can’t take it back now. And besides, it’s true. Professional or not, best friend’s daughter or not, I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anything happen to Mia while we’re in Tokyo. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let her worry about a single thing, either.

I tell the woman we’ll take the adjoining rooms, and she nods and types into the computer before handing us key cards. The closeness I’m feeling to Mia—and the fact that she’s still insisting on keeping at least one hand on my arm at all times—on the elevator ride up to the rooms is pure torture.

We’re finally standing at Mia’s door, and I wait as she tries her key. I almost fall prey to the impulse to invite her into mine for a drink, but instead, give her a quick pat on the arm and turn away.

“See you in the morning?” she asks. Her voice is small and apprehensive, and I feel like a grade-A jerk for turning away now, but I don’t trust myself to do anything else. If I start to comfort her now, I won’t want to stop. And that isn’t what either of us needs. I gotta get my head together and remember that I’m just her mentor.

“Bright and early,” I tell her. “Seven AM.”

Once I’m alone in my room, I begin undressing, leaving a trail of clothing from the door to the large bed. I’m normally pretty particular about leaving clothes—or anything else—lying around where they don’t belong, but tonight I can’t be bothered to care. I’ll pick the clothes up later. Someone will, anyway.

Right now, I’m out of sorts and even though my body is still tired from the flight, my mind is racing.

At work and in business, I’m used to keeping my cards close to my chest. I don’t let people in because I’ve learned over the years that that’s an easy way to get burned. But with Mia?

All of my instincts start to feel… off. I start wanting to open up to her, wanting to share what I’m thinking and feeling. I want to cradle her in my arms, and at the same time I want to ravage her body with kisses and then take her again and again. I want her to want me, even though there is still a part of me that’s reasonable enough to know it can never work between us.

I wonder how much longer I can keep pretending like I’m only interested in business when I’m with her. Nights like tonight certainly don’t help, having her in the next room, probably taking a shower, or putting her hair up in a ponytail and throwing on some sweatpants with words printed across that round butt. “Juicy.”

Finally completely naked, I sprawl out across the middle of the bed, not even bothering to get under the covers. The room is warm and my skin is hot to the touch, so I just roll onto my back and close my eyes.

Does she like her room? Is she as exhausted from the flight as I am, or would she rather be out doing something right now? Is she thinking of me the way I’m constantly thinking of her?

If she is, does she regret it? Or does she like it?

The last thought goes straight to my cock, and I can’t help but reach down and wrap my hand around it. There’s already pre-cum pooling at the tip, and I use my thumb to spread it, to use it as lube as I slick it over the head and shaft.

I run my free hand across my abs but in my mind, it’s Mia’s hand that’s exploring my body, just like it’s Mia’s other hand that has a tight grip on my cock. I’m sure there’s no comparison to her delicate, sweet touch, but it’s still easy to imagine since I can so clearly see her face, sexy and somehow innocent at the same time, the moment I close my eyes.

“Oh, fuck,” I murmur, raising my hips to meet my long, slow strokes as my other hand skims across my chest, over one nipple and then the other.

It feels so good to let myself go after such a long day—and I need it after so many hours being right next to Mia. She turns me into walking testosterone as if I were a teenager again. I can’t remember a time when my cock was this hard, this often.

It’s torture, but fuck, in some ways, I love it.

My body is already so turned on that I know I’m not going to last long. I’m not trying to draw this out, anyway. I just need this release so I can get some sleep, so I can at least have a chance of resting for a few hours before the meeting tomorrow.

I moan as I pick up a faster rhythm, my fist moving over my slick cock with the speed and grip that’ll get me to where I need to be. My free hand is still roaming, still running up and down over my torso in a way that’s similar to what I imagine Mia would do, but again, something is missing.

With another thrust of my hips, I’m inspired to try something different, and drag the fingernails of my free hand slowly across my abs, groaning in pure pleasure as the tiny spike of pain mixed with pleasure gives me what I need. That and the idea of Mia’s mouth nibbling down my belly to reach my cock and take it down her sweet throat.

I grit my teeth as the orgasm builds, then pump my cock faster and harder until it’s finally coursing through me. I fling my head back against the pillow as those white-hot jets spill out over my fist and across my stomach, leaving me breathless and panting on top of the bed.

It takes several seconds before I’m ready to open my eyes, and when I do the room still feels too hot, too stuffy and now too sticky to fall asleep. “Fuck,” I mutter again, this time not in pleasure, and slowly roll out of bed.

On my way to the bathroom, I pick up the clothes I discarded earlier, then throw them onto an armchair as I pass by. That’ll have to be good enough for now. At the moment, I’m more concerned with cleaning myself off, and I might as well take a cool shower while I’m at it.

Maybe then, I can finally get some sleep.

Maybe then, I can finally get her off my mind.