The Art of Us by Hilaria Alexander (26)

It took us much longer than I expected to get home.

After he kissed me in the quiet little alley, we waltzed through the streets, walking side by side, our fingers barely touching, our starry eyes stealing glances at each other.

My senses were so heightened, a single brush of his fingers against my skin made me shiver. My eyes saw and my ears registered everything around us—the scents, the sounds, the daily conversations, the background noises, and even the sticky humidity of the tunnel in the train station, the smell of the brakes of the train.

My body and mind felt so awake, absorbing every little detail of the night.

He held my hand as we boarded, as if he didn’t want to let me out of his sight in the crowd, and when the train departed, his fingers covered mine as we both held on to the same pole in the crowded space.

My brain was recording new memories to add to the files of happy ones I had from this place.

I could barely look at him as he kept his gaze fixed on me.

His eyes were too intense, too wanting, too easy to get lost in. I couldn’t look at him without my heart speeding up in my chest, loud and deafening, undermining my self-control. I wanted to kiss him, wanted to touch him, but we couldn’t yet.

I met his eyes again as we came closer to our transfer station.

Fire danced in his gaze, and I didn’t need to ask him what he was thinking.

I continued to register all the small details around me…his hand on the small of my back as we got off the train…his hand reaching for mine again as we descended the stairs…the wind blowing my hair as the JR line train approached.

I repeated the words of the Japanese announcement I’d heard a thousand times, the one that warned the train was about to arrive and you should stay behind the yellow line. Amos’ lips curled up in a smile as he noticed me mumbling the words.

We arrived in Shibuya then made our way through the sea of people hand in hand. The lights of the neon signs reflected on Amos, giving his whole figure a delightful glow.

His smiles were too addictive, too potent. I couldn’t not smile back when he looked at me like I was the center of the universe. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had been this happy.

Excitement and sheer joy succumbed to the fear that all of this, whatever it was, was going to be taken away from me.

I swallowed past the knot in my throat and held Amos’ hand tighter.

He must have sensed my slight mood shift because he gave me a long, pensive look. I smiled, trying to reassure him, trying to enjoy the walk, deciding to focus on what was about to happen.

We took a side street that would eventually take us to the quiet neighborhood in one of the busiest parts of the city.

The old house Maggie and I had lived in was only about fifteen minutes away from where we were staying, but I hadn’t had the courage to make it over there.

Maybe with time…maybe I could take myself over there, to see if the house was still there, or if it had become another apartment building.

Maybe in time I could even convince myself to go to the place where it all happened.

I found myself counting down the minutes until we could shed our clothes and be skin to skin as we approached the house.

We were walking down one of the quieter streets, one that didn’t have any shops, not even a convenience store.

The neighborhood was beautiful, and even though all I could see was the concrete walls of the villas, it still felt like a small oasis in the middle of a metropolis. I often found myself fantasizing about the kind of gardens and courtyards they hid. I wondered if the other homes were bigger than the one we were staying at.

Amos stopped in his tracks, as if suddenly realizing something. He placed his hand around my waist and walked me back toward the wall of a house.

I looked up at him, knowing exactly what was about to happen, but uncertain if it was a good idea or not. The staggering rhythm of my heart certainly thought so. It was beating so hard I felt it in my throat.

I could have kissed him a hundred times, and it still wouldn’t have been enough.

“I need to kiss you again,” he said in a low grumble, taking my face in his hands.

“I know,” I mumbled, covering his hands with mine, waiting, wanting, anticipating.

My body was tense, tightly arched around him like the limb of a bow.

I let out a shallow breath just before he leaned in. His lips gently brushed against mine, one time, and then a second time, soft and gentle.

I wanted a deeper, different kiss, but I didn’t dare interfere with his actions.

He kissed me reverently, covering my lips with his.

This kiss was different. It was possibly even more intimate.

A warm rush radiated from my chest to the rest of my body.

I wasn’t used to it, but fuck me, I liked it.

He was treating me as if I was something fragile and precious. I liked it rough and hard, but right then, I appreciated the gentleness of his lips.

It felt good to be cherished for once.

Then, when I least expected it, he switched gears. The tip of his tongue traced between my lips, parting them, capturing me in a slow, maddening, hungry kiss.

His kiss was discovery, need, possession.

I wrapped my tongue around his eagerly, despite my brain trying to tell me to take it slow. I had been waiting for this for way too long.

No amount of kisses was going to be enough.

I wanted every inch of him. He tasted and sucked and nibbled at my lips as his hands were busy exploring my body. My insides tightened, heat spreading in my lower belly.

I needed him to touch me there.

We’re taking this too far, the sane part of my brain reminded me.

We needed to stop, before someone saw us. This wasn’t Portland; people still cared about appearances on this side of the world.

Even kissing was frowned upon; making out was definitely out of the question.

Yet, I didn’t stop him.

His hands grabbed hold of my ass and he pulled me closer. I felt him hard against me, and the realization that his need was as strong as mine caused my insides to tighten up in anticipation. I could feel wetness dampen my underwear, and in that instant, I wanted nothing more than the feel of his skin against mine, the feel of him inside of me.

He broke the kiss, and we both stared at each other in amazement and awe as we caught our breath. He gave me a sultry, devious smile as he looked down the neckline of my shirt. One of his hands ran up my side and gave one of my breasts a gentle squeeze. He leaned down again and gave me a peck on the lips.

I patted his arm, breaking his focus. He searched my eyes, looking wary, as if I’d suddenly told him I didn’t want him.

Far from it, but I needed to pace myself. We needed to take this inside the house.

“We need to go before—”

“Someone sees us. Right. Let’s go.” He smiled and offered me his hand again.

When we reached the house, I let go of his hand, trying to put some distance between us, and headed for the door.

Before I could open the door with my keys, he reached for my elbow and spun me toward him. He kissed me again, slow and tender, but the urgency in his tongue and his breathing made me want to lean forward, wrap my legs around his waist, and tell him to take me to my room immediately.

I was torn in a battle between my head and my heart, unsure if I should be cautious or not.

My heart wanted me to dive in, kiss him, fuck him the way I’d wanted to for months, but my head kept telling me the enchantment was going to break, that I needed to be careful.

I pressed my hands against his chest and broke the kiss.

“I still think we need to talk.”

“About?” he asked with a stupid grin on his face.

“About what this means. About us.”

“Well, look at you. I didn’t think you were one to label things. I always saw you as a free spirit.”

I glared at him. “Shut up.”

He laughed and hugged me tighter, making me feel every inch of his hard torso and most of his erection.

I shivered in anticipation. I was dying to play with it.

I was dying for him to do all kinds of things to me.

“I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” he said in a low tone, his nose brushing against my cheek, placing a small kiss on the hollow under my ear.

“Need to stop,” I muttered, heady once more.

He let go of me and I opened the door. It was still early in the evening, but from the quiet and darkness in the house, it was evident that Rika had gone to bed early.

Even on the days when she was feeling good, she needed plenty of rest, and it was especially true now that she was under the stress of getting the manga finished.

Pain.

I was in pain. I couldn’t wait any longer. My dick had been hard on and off since earlier in the day, and I was sporting a terrible case of blue balls.

But, in less than a minute, we’d either be in her room or mine.

I was going to strip her out of each item of clothing, and I was going to make her mine once and for all.

Or so I thought.

Instead, as soon as we got in, we found Hiroyuki lounging in the Western-style den by the entrance of the house, and as soon as he spotted us, he asked us to join him for a shot of sake. Rika was nowhere to be seen, and I suspected she was already lying down, as she often did.

“Amosss,” Hiroyuki said in greeting, raising his glass and pronouncing the s more like su, like the syllable that ended so many words in the Japanese language. “Nomu? One drink, man!” he pleaded, raising the sake shot glass.

“Rena!” he called drunkenly. “Come on! One drink! Onegai!” Hiroyui pleaded.

“Sumimasen. Honto tsukaretadesu,” Lena told him with a slight bow, trying to get out of it by saying she was very tired. I pursed my lips to hide a smile.

Tired—not until I got to her.

I was about to tell him the same thing when he made a more pressing invitation, shoving a glass of sake in one of my hands. Hiroyuki said it would just be one drink, but I had sat down with him before, and it was never just one drink. It always ended up being an hour-long drinking session, at least.

“If you don’t want them to suspect anything about us, maybe I should humor him,” I told Lena in a low voice, knowing Hiroyuki was just drunk enough to miss the exchange. He did, as I’d expected, but I hadn’t expected to see disappointment in Lena’s eyes. She’d been the one suggesting being careful around Rika and Hiroyuki.

“Sure. You’re probably right,” she said in a somber tone. Then she gave my arm a subtle squeeze and said, “Hurry up, okay?”

I gave her a long look and a wink then muttered, “Later,” before sitting down with my Japanese friend.

As I expected, while I sat in my room and waited for Amos to come back, I was a ball of nerves. I kept thinking about his lips, his hands, and the dark look he’d given me right before I excused myself. I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

I had that wide-eyed, just kissed look, my lips slightly red, my cheeks flushed.

I kept replaying in my head what had happened.

His actions earlier that day…his teasing…what he’d said about wanting me.

His kisses—my God, his kisses. Just thinking about the way his tongue felt and tasted sent a chill down my spine. I needed to feel his hands and his tongue everywhere.

I had fantasized about it for so long.

It had been a fantasy. He was someone I could never have.

But now, he was about to be mine.

My mind kept racing, my body lit like a Ferris wheel at night, a kaleidoscope of colors and feelings and emotions bubbling up inside of me.

I needed a release, soon.

I paced the floor of my room. I changed my clothes. I put my nightshirt on and opened the door, leaving the mosquito net screen door closed. I stared at the garden, illuminated by soft light.

What I could see of the sky was a purple haze. Even during the middle of the night, the summer sky in Tokyo had purple tones. There was too much smog and humidity to be able to see the stars.

It was different, but still beautiful. I remembered the first time I was able to see the stars on the way back to my house on a crisp fall night.

After so many months of not seeing the stars, it felt even more special.

I loved that on my way back from work, I’d look up and find the stars.

I tried to calm myself down, inhaled and exhaled slowly, but my body was too wound up and I couldn’t stop thinking about Amos.

I looked at the clock on my phone. Twenty minutes had passed.

Then thirty.

Then forty.

Motherfucker.

I was so tense, I couldn’t stand it anymore.

So, I did the only sensible thing I could think of.

I decided to emulate Ben Stiller in There’s Something About Mary to loosen up.

Like I’d told Amos that night out in Seattle, a lady must always be prepared.

And prepared I was.

I got my vibrator out of a drawer and pulled the blankets of my futon on top of me.

I pressed the button and as soon as it pressed against my most sensitive spot, I was already on the edge of my release. The pent-up sexual frustration erupted a few seconds later just as a strangled moan escaped my mouth. I held my grip on my wand of all wonders and an unexpected, stronger orgasm erupted through me. The moan was louder and less controlled this time.

My chest heaving, I breathed deeply as I tried to collect myself.

Just then, I heard someone laughing outside my door.

“Amos, is that you?” I whispered.

“Yes, it is, Lena.” Even separated by a door, I could detect the amusement in his voice.

Son of a bitch.

I struggled in the dark to put my underwear back on, just in case. I didn’t want to be caught in flagrante, but it was probably too late for that.

Oh well.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“The shop’s closed. Come back tomorrow,” I joked, trying to get comfortable on my pillow. I heard his muffled laughter come from the other side, and I couldn’t hold back, ending up laughing with him.

“Lena, let me come in…please.”

“Fine. Come in.”

I sat up in my futon, covered up by the blanket and the t-shirt I was wearing.

“Oh, you’re dressed,” he said with an air of disappointment as he took a seat down on the tatami, right next to my futon. He crisscrossed his legs, his eyes never leaving me.

I glared at him. “Did you think I slept in the nude?”

“A man can dream.” The tone of his voice was soft, the smile on his lips sweet. He swallowed, and his eyes traveled down my chest, down to my waist.

“What are you wearing underneath?” he asked as he went to grab a corner of the blanket. I stopped him, keeping the fabric down with both hands.

“Why do you want to know? Are you trying to get in my pants tonight?” I asked with an air of defiance.

“I would really like that…but only if you want to.” He sounded sincere, as if he’d given it some actual thought, as if he was willing to wait some more if I wasn’t ready. “So, what were you doing just now?” He gave me a teasing look, and his lips curled in that smile of his that was both irritating and charming.

“I’ll never tell,” I mused.

“You sounded like you weren’t feeling too hot.” The tone of provocation in his voice wasn’t lost on me.

“I was feeling plenty hot, thank you very much,” I replied, realizing a second too late that I’d fallen right into his trap. Heat rushed to my cheeks.

“Were you using that big vibrator you had in Seattle?”

“It’s not that big.” I let out a laugh.

“I remember it was pretty big. May I see it again?”

“Why?”

“Because I would like to see you come. I’ve been dying to see you come.”

“Oh, fuck off,” I said, rolling my eyes. He laughed, and he took one of my hands in his.

“I’m serious.” His velvety voice was one of the biggest turn-ons. I’d spent months trying to forget about how much I liked it, but now there were no real obstacles between us and it was going to be twice as hard to stand my ground.

His voice alone seemed to awaken the deepest part of me. My nipples hardened under my thin shirt and I squeezed my thighs close together. I brought my knees up, squeezing my center tighter.

He had to know how much he turned me on.

“Why now?” I asked. “Haven’t we been dancing around each other long enough?”

He smiled.

“What’s another fifteen minutes? I’ve been waiting for you for so long now.” He sounded so earnest, so vulnerable. A multitude of feelings washed over me, and I had a strong impulse to embrace him. Instead, I slipped my underwear out from under the blanket while keeping my eyes fixed on his.

His gaze darkened with lust as he swallowed, lips parted, curiosity and desire giving his eyes a different light. I grabbed his hand and brought it between my legs.

“Do you want to see me come? Go for it,” I said softly, with just a hint of mischief.

His fingers parted my lips, already wet and sleek with need. His index finger went right for my favorite spot. He first pinched it gently, making me squirm.

A soft laugh escaped his lips, but then his own arousal started showing, his breath coming in shallow and fast.

There was a certain desire and reverence in his eyes, and my heart started beating even faster.

It was in that moment that I knew nothing was going to be the same ever again. I ran my hand up his shirt and up his neck as he kept applying gentle pressure in circular motions between my legs. His touch was light and gentle at first, and as he started increasing the tempo of his sweet torture, I gently pressed my hand to his neck, asking for a kiss.

His lips on mine felt like water to a person dying of thirst. I drank him in.

He was oxygen. I breathed him in as if he was the only source of air.

His tongue around mine was the thrill of being and feeling alive.

His tongue around mine was a new beginning, a new chance to be happy.

I let myself go, lost in his kiss as his fingers brought me to the brink of climax. He pulled back, cradling my head and staring at my face as the orgasm erupted through me, powerful and merciless. White lights danced before my eyes, adrenaline rushing through every cell of my body, my chest heaving, my lungs struggling to keep up.

When I opened my eyes, I found him staring at me with the look of someone who’d seen the greatest thing ever. I felt my cheeks redden and I avoided his gaze, searching for his lips once more. I brushed my lips against his again, gently, and brought my hands down to the bulging erection in his pants.

“Was that everything you wanted to see?”

“No,” he replied in a serious tone. “That was just the beginning. I want to see you come again and again, preferably with me buried inside of you.”

“Have at it,” I replied as I unbuckled his jeans and moved my hands around his hips to lower his boxers.

He took off his shirt, and I stopped what I was doing so I could do the same.

His eyes touched me everywhere before his hands did. He grabbed one of my breasts, caressing it, teasing the hardened nipple with his thumb.

I let out a shallow breath and ran my fingers down his pecs, his abs, needing to feel his hard planes under my fingers. He stood up so he could take off his jeans and underwear and I watched him in awe, my body still reeling from its recent release, yet still needing that piece of him I hadn’t gotten yet.

He reached down in his wallet for a condom, but when he was about to kneel down, I stopped him and got up on my knees.

I took his beautiful, smooth erection in my hands, giving it a gentle squeeze before I took it in my mouth, sucking the entire length slowly.

Amos’ hissed breath was the confirmation I needed to continue. His fingers running through my hair were gentle, never pressing, never pushing.

I looked up and locked eyes with him, even though I could only partially see him in the dim light. There was a halo of light all around him from the glow coming in from the garden.

Almost as if reading my thoughts, he pulled back, telling me to stop.

“Wait, I need to be able to see you,” he said.

He closed the screen door and turned on the small table lamp in my room.

My eyes squinted, struggling to adjust.

“This is much better,” he said with a smirk.

“Um, I kind of liked it better before.”

“You shush. If you’re going to be sucking my cock, I want to be able to see it.” His voice was deep and serious, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

“Lie down,” he commanded with a tilt of his jaw as he unwrapped the foil packet and started to roll the condom down his cock.

My throat went dry, thirsty with anticipation.

The ache between my legs and the man in front of me were all my senses could register.

When he took his place between my legs, he peeked and inserted a finger in my vagina to make sure I was wet enough.

He balanced himself on his hands and leaned down to kiss me again. He then straightened himself up and grabbed my hips, lifting them just a little.

I took his cock in my hand and guided it to my entrance.

I let out a sigh as the shape of him filled me.

“God, you feel so fucking good, Lena.” His words were music to my ears, because the feeling of him inside me was magnificent, and I struggled to recall a time it had felt this good.

He grabbed my hips, rocking in and out of me in a steady rhythm.

I played with my nipples as he stared at me through heavy-lidded eyes full of lust, and he brought a thumb between my lips to tease my clit as he increased the tempo of his hips rocking into me.

He balanced himself on one hand, the other still between my legs as he brushed his lips against mine and whispered words that sent me over the edge.

“I have wanted you for so long.”

Each thrust sent me a bit farther over the edge. I wrapped my legs around him, tilting my hips up, pressing my hands on his ass to get even more of him.

I needed more of him. I would always need more.

Everything about his lips, his touch, the movement of his body called for my senses to surrender to him completely. I lowered my walls, letting him in, letting him see me.

“I have wanted you for a long time, too, Amos,” I said in a whisper, surprised by my own words. When it came to sex, I was always the one in control, but this was different.

It wasn’t just about me anymore. It was about us.

“Let me see you come again, Lena,” he said as he increased the rhythm of his thrusts, still applying pressure to my swollen clit.

I did as he asked, eyes open, fixed on him as the orgasm rippled through me and a low, guttural scream escaped my lips.

He followed soon after, accompanying his release with muffled grunts, leaning his head on my chest. I ran my fingers through his hair, still trying to catch my breath, my legs limp under him, my core still reeling from my release.

We stayed like that for a while, not saying a word, just breathing slowly.

He got up to clean himself, and I threw on a long shirt to go pee.

I walked slowly, trying to be extra careful not to make any noise.

I went back to my room and turned the light off. For a moment I thought he might be asleep, but when I stepped closer, he moved the blanket so I could take my place next to him.

“Lose the shirt,” he ordered.

I scowled. “You really need to stop barking out orders.”

“I need to feel your skin against mine. I have been thinking about this for entirely too long.” Once again, his sincerity startled me. He talked about me as if I was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

The spark in my heart was the confirmation I needed.

I was a goner.

Somehow, I wasn’t too upset about it.

His fingers teased my skin, running up my hips to my back.

I took my shirt off and lay next to him.

He took me in his arms, with one arm cradling my head.

There was nowhere for me to run. Somehow, I didn’t feel the need to be anywhere but there. I wanted to stay right there, in his arms.

For the first time in a long time, I felt I belonged somewhere.

I feel asleep with my head pressed against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat lulling me into Orpheus’ world.