DRAWN (16 page)

          “My parents tell me that, too,” I admit. “But it’s just hard to stop when you’re in the thick of things.”

          “No more drawing till tomorrow,
senpai
.”

          I open my mouth to protest, but Yuki continues, “If you insist on drawing, then I won’t give you the surprise I’ve planned.”

          A surprise?

          Really?

          “I promise I won’t draw till tomorrow.” And technically, midnight later is the start of tomorrow so it’s not like I have too much to wait. But for now, I let myself be swept away by the giddy anticipation of thinking about what Yuki’s surprise would be.

          When my back finally stops aching like it belongs to an arthritic idiot, Yuki and I get into his dad’s uber cool limo. It even has glass partitions and curtains for passengers who want, umm, privacy. Yuki said it’s
not
yet time for us to use it. I totally respect his opinion, and as his “toy” I’m cool with Yuki choosing when and when not to do whatever he has cooking in his demonic mind, but I also know that I
am so
going to use it in my
manga
.

          I mean, come on, the
possibilities.

         
It’s just like the ledge in the pool, which I am also going to use.

          The limo slows to an impressively smooth stop, and when Yuki helps me down I’m surprised to see that we’re heading to a bookstore with pretty red and white gables and a brick exterior. I think I’m really going to like this kind of surprise.

          And I do.

          Yuki hands me the latest copy of
Margaret
, which is my favorite of all
shoujo manga
with monthly circulations in Japan.
This
as far as I’m concerned is the ultimate
shoujo
bible and where the prettiest and sexiest stories are published.

Margaret
is known for a gazillion of things, not the least for launching
Boys over Flowers,
a
manga
about four super beautiful filthy rich boys and one dirt poor headstrong girl which has been adapted for TV in just about every country in Asia.

         
Margaret
also features most of my favorite
mangaka
like
Nagamu Nanaji, Zakuri Sato, Ayane Ukyou,
and who can ever forget
Shinjo Mayu,
whose stories are so incredibly hot that you’d have to be hormonally impaired
not
to be turned on. Oh, and her characters
always
get to shag before the end of the first volume. It’s like an unwritten rule when you read her works.

          “I don’t think I need to ask you if you like it,
senpai
,” he says.

          “I love it! I will never ever stop thank you for this. It’s the best surprise ever, and I am totally going to work hard to interpreting---” I stop when he shakes his head.

          Did I get him wrong somehow? Is this like a
loaned
surprise so I have just limited time to work with it?

          “I’ll read it with you every month,
senpai
.”

          Really? All four hundred pages of it?

          I feel my lips trembling. “That is just so…”

          Yuki gazes at me in alarm. “Don’t.”

          “But I have to say it,” I protest passionately.

          “Don’t.”

          “I can’t help it!”

          “
Senpai
.”

          Me being me, I ignore the warning and burst out, “You are just so
sweet
, Yuki!”

          And Yuki being Yuki, he punishes me with a totally bland vegetarian meal for dinner in a restaurant mostly filled with middle-aged diabetics wearing color-coded shirts with matching headbands and wristbands.

          One of them is staring at me open-mouthed. I can’t say I blame him. There are only two kinds of people who eat in this kind of restaurant. You either have a health problem – ergo, them – or you have a
mental
problem, ergo the crazy sadistic guy in front of me.

          “You are unbelievably mean,” I mumble while I pick on my food.

          Spinach, blech!

          Mashed potato without gravy, more blech!

          Carrots and corn without butter, too blech for words!

          “That’s because as my toy,
senpai
, you’re not supposed to make me feel bad.”

          I choke on my blech-y vegetables. “Saying that you’re---” I change my mind at Yuki’s glare and just mutter under my breath, “Arse.”

          I never thought Yuki’s edible torture would never be end, but it finally does. Who knew finishing one dinner plate would take this long? We go back to the limo, and I debate with myself if I should indulge in a little sulk. I mean, wasn’t he overreacting? Saying a guy is sweet may, admittedly, not sit fine for someone like Yuki, with his hidden demonic streak, but was it so bad he had to torture me with vegetables?

          “Want to start reading your
manga
now,
senpai
?”

          Okay, I’ve decided that sulking is completely beneath me.

          I nod happily and carefully tear the plastic from my precious
Margaret.
Just as I throw away the plastic, Yuki scoops me in his lap.

          This reminds me of the time my dad would read me bedtime stories while I fall asleep in his lap. Somehow, I don’t think he’s going to be happy if he learns that someone’s following in his footsteps.

          “So,
senpai
.”

          Too late I see the gleam in his eyes.

          Here we go!

          Wait, what I really mean is here we go.

          Yuki thinking up another way to torture me does not deserve an excited exclamation mark.

          “I’m going to read this
manga
to you for just one little condition,
senpai
.”

          “Which is?”

          “We get to reenact everything we read.”

          That…doesn’t sound too bad. It’s actually going to be…helpful since I’d get to see Yuki acting out, and maybe some of what he does I can use in my
manga
.

          “It’s a deal.”

          “Then choose your story,
senpai
.”

          I flip through the pages and my eyes widen at what I see so far.

          It must have been my imagination.

          Surely---

          I flip the pages more slowly, but my mind tells me it’s
not
my imagination that’s at work. It’s reality. Yuki’s version of reality, to be specific.

          “Why are most of the pages have people shagging?” I cry out.

          Yuki’s face is once again perfectly innocent. “Why are you asking me,
senpai
?”

          “Is this really
Margaret
?” Maybe Yuki’s fooled me and somehow he’s switched my favorite
shoujo
for
hentai
.

          “I swear,
senpai
, it is Margaret.” He pauses.

          That’s a
“but”
pause if I ever hear one, and I can practically imagine Yuki daring me to ask what that
but
is for.

          I grit my teeth. “Okay, I’ll bite. This is Margaret, but what?”

          His smile is wonderfully angelic. “It’s also the lovey-dovey special edition.”

          Yeeargh!

          How is it that his plans for torturing me always play out exactly the way he wants it?

          I’m beginning to feel I’m being an idiot for even thinking that I can ever outsmart him since you can’t outwit a god, right?

          “So…” He looks at me expectantly. “Which story do you want us to work on,
senpai
?”

          I start to flip through the pages again, but Yuki snatches the
manga
out of my hands.

          “I’m not yet done!”

          “I’ll just read the titles for you,
senpai
.”

          This is going to be another trap. I just know it. But for the life of me, I can’t figure out how I’m going to survive it.

          Yuki starts rattling out titles and I frowningly concentrate on them. The one with the ‘sister’ in the title is definitely out. Brothers and sisters who really aren’t siblings and fall for each other is a common plot in
shoujo manga
and this type of couple frequently sees a lot of action – and I mean a lot – since they typically live under one roof.

          “That one,” I quickly say when I hear the most innocent-sounding title slip past Yuki’s lips. “The cherry blossoms title, the one with
sakura
in it.” I’m pretty sure most Japs see cherry blossoms as a symbol of purity so that should keep me somewhat safe.

          But then I see Yuki’s eyes still gleaming and I have this very nasty feeling I’ve played right into his hands once more.

          His next words confirm it. “I knew you’d choose this,
senpai
. After all, you once told me she’s your favorite
mangaka
.”

          “W-who drew it?”

          “Shinjo Mayu,” Yuki answers with a quick grin.

          I’m so dead.

          Without taking his gaze off my now-blushing face, Yuki presses a button that has the glass partition and curtains sliding into place, effectively shutting out the rest of the world – limo driver included.

          There’s no bloody way I’m going to escape with my virginity intact.

          Yuki flips the manga open to the page where Shinjo Mayu’s story starts. I bite back a groan when I catch a glimpse of her drawings and read words like
gomen,
which means ‘sorry’.

Is it really too much to ask that I have some bloody luck when I’m up against this god?

          Shinjo Mayu’s couple is enjoying some serious make-up shagging.

          Yuki slowly smiles.

          “Let me start by unbuttoning your blouse,
senpai
, like the girl in the
manga
.” And he does so, with excruciating slowness. My mind shatters, bit by bit, with every button he releases. He doesn’t take my blouse off completely and leaves it hanging from the sides, exactly like how it is in the
manga.

          Yuki’s gaze returns to the
manga
. “And as you see,
senpai,
the guy…”

          I gasp when Yuki suddenly decides to take action instead of just describing the scene, kissing my neck before moving down until he reaches the front clasp of my bra.

          “Look at the drawing,
senpai
.” Yuki’s voice is a little hoarse.

          And that’s bad, extremely bad, because it makes me want to tear off his clothes and forget about the fact that I’m supposed to come back home exactly the way I left.

          “Do you see it,
senpai
?” Yuki’s voice is so, so much hoarser.

          And it’s killing me, oh shite, it’s killing me not to beg him---

          I gasp when Yuki again dives into “re-enacting” without the dialogue or narration. His hands tighten around my waist as he licks my skin and he keeps on licking until my body becomes wild, which is the time he pulls me hard against him, turning his head sideways so he can…bite. Hard.

          I moan, my head falling involuntarily falling back once more.

          “
Senpai
,” he groans even as he doesn’t stop nipping, his teeth creating the most acute sense of pleasure that has me---

          “
Senpai,
turn the pages.”

          I clumsily reach for the
manga
and start turning the pages. Twice, the
manga
falls back to the seat when Yuki rocks particularly hard against me.

          “
Senpai,
keep turning the pages,” Yuki grits out.

          So I turn, and I turn, and I turn until I see what he wants me to see.

          The girl in the
manga
is moaning as her very beautiful, sexy, and extremely wicked-looking husband brings her to a climax.

          Yuki looks at me in the yes. “Ready,
senpai
?”

          He doesn’t give me time to answer. Suddenly, his lips, his hands are everywhere, and I lose control. The next thing I know, we’ve rolled down to the floor, and I’m on top of Yuki. But he doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t stop going harder and faster. His hands don’t stop squeezing me not so gently, not so roughly, and everything is killing me.

          There’s the sweetest sense of friction between our bodies, and it’s driving me insane, because it’s promising me something every inch of my body is craving. It’s so bloody near, but somehow, I just can’t reach---