“That wasn’t what I had in mind.” He pushed his hand between their sandwiched bodies, between her legs, and she shrieked, trying to buck him off.
He slapped his other hand over her mouth, silencing her, and leaned down, whispering in her ear. “Hush. We don’t want anyone to know what we’re doing.”
She tried to shake her head, but he was holding her head immobile. He put one leg between hers, forcing them apart, giving him access. And he was touching her, through the thin cotton cloth, touching her as if he did, indeed, know her body better than she did, and she arched beneath him.
“I’d suggest you do this for yourself but I think you’d probably hit me again,” he whispered. “You’re too tense, and this is the only way to relax so you can sleep. Think of it as a medical procedure.”
She tried to bite his hand, but he was way ahead of her. “Close your eyes, Ji-chan, and let it go. The sooner you do, the sooner you’ll come.”
No one had ever touched her like that. He was right, she could have taken care of it herself, but his touch, through the rapidly dampening cloth, was something so powerful she didn’t think there was any way to fight it. She knew her own body and she wasn’t squeamish. She could bring herself to orgasm easily enough, but it had never felt like this, with a man’s hands on her, his body, his heat overwhelming her in the tiny capsule, his breath rasping in her ear. And not just any man, but Reno touching her.
She was already way past arousal, the sensations sweeping through her body. Trying to squirm away from him only made it stronger. She felt the first little climax twist her body, and she fell back, panting slightly as he lifted his hand from her mouth.
“There,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “You took care of it. I came. Now leave me alone.”
His soft laugh filled the darkness. “You call that an orgasm? American men must be terrible lovers.”
The second wave hit her harder, and she could barely hold back the cry that filled her throat. How did he know how to touch her, how hard, how gently, with those long, slender fingers of his? She jerked again as another powerful climax swept over her.
And then there was no more fighting it. It was building, building, to a black place that she’d never been before, beyond arousal, beyond orgasm, beyond life and death, ready to dive over into the darkness. She reached up for him, blindly, trying to bring his face to hers, wanting his mouth, but he was suddenly rough, and she shattered, slamming her face against his shoulder to muffle her own cry, her body convulsing, shivering, dying.
And then she fell back, limp. Her face was wet, and she realized she was crying. She couldn’t catch her breath—her hoarse panting filled the tiny capsule.
He rolled off her, no longer holding her down. “That was an improvement,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice. “It will have to do for now. You have a lot to learn about sex, don’t you?”
She was beyond words. She couldn’t even turn her back on him, not without pressing up against him. The shivers were slowly fading, even as a stray convulsion rippled through her body. She wanted to disappear, to die, to pretend that nothing had ever happened.
She jerked when she felt his hand on her face. It was oddly gentle. “Close your eyes and sleep, baby,” he whispered with surprising tenderness as his fingers drifted over her eyelids. “You can hit me tomorrow. Sleep now.”
And she did.
Shit. Ji-chan was crying. He hated it when women cried. Even if it was just a physical response to great sex, he hated it. And it wasn’t just the power of her climax that brought the tears.
Shit. If he’d been dumb enough to do something like that, he could have stripped off his own jeans and gotten off
as well, and now he was lying here with a hard-on that was probably going to kill him, and then who would look after Jilly, keep her safe?
No one ever died from an unsatisfied erection—he should know. He’d probably been hard from age twelve till he finally got laid at age fourteen, and he’d survived well enough.
Her breathing was deep and even now—she was sound asleep. Now he was the one who was wide-awake. Thinking about the feel of her beneath the thin cotton, the dampness, was making him even harder.
Reno slid his hand down inside his jeans, rearranging things to be more comfortable. He could always jerk off—she’d probably sleep through it, and even if she didn’t, he wasn’t asking her to take care of it. But he wasn’t going to. Like a twelve-year-old kid, he wanted to keep his erection, and think about her. As soon as he got her out of Japan and into safe hands, he’d expend all that energy on someone willing. Despite his taunts, he had no intention of actually fucking her. He could wait for someone who didn’t come with strings attached.
He closed his eyes. He didn’t have the faintest idea what the hell he was going to do tomorrow. Or today, actually. He was going to have to get to his grandfather without going through the usual channels, which would be tricky. He was far too recognizable among the members of his grandfather’s cell, and he had no idea who was gunning for him. Matsumoto-san had always hated him, as had Tomatsu-san. And then there was the new guy, Hitomi-san. He was an unknown—he couldn’t ever remember Ojiisan bringing anyone new into the organization without telling his grandson and heir.
The problem was he needed to find a place to stash Ji-chan before he went looking. And he couldn’t think of any place safe enough, anyone safe enough to leave her with.
He’d figure it out in the morning. His erection wasn’t going away, but he could control his mind. He needed sleep, and for now they were safe inside their little bubble. He moved, just slightly, closing the few inches she’d managed to put between them, so that their bodies were touching, shoulder to thigh. And only then did he let himself sleep.
Jilly awoke in stages, drifting through the seven layers of bliss before she realized exactly where she was. Lying on her back in the narrow bed of a capsule hotel, with Reno’s body sprawled across hers. And then she remembered what had happened just before she fell asleep, and she shoved at him, hard, so that he fell back with a grunt, his eyes flying open.
“Asshole,” she said, scrambling away from him as best she could in the tiny space.
He reached to the wall and switched on the light, momentarily blinding her. When she opened her eyes again he was looking at her. And there was nothing she could do about it.
“Shouldn’t we be getting out of here?” she said, determined to remain cool.
“Soon. The salarymen are all getting ready to go, and you’re not supposed to be in here.”