Hardest

Copyright 2012 Jorja Tabu

This work belongs to the author.  It is not available for redistribution in any state or country, and the ideas and content within belong to the author.

This work contains sexual scenes and content that are the sole responsibility of the purchaser, as is the knowledge of what content is legal and viable in their place of purchase.  These scenes should not be recreated.  They are intended as entertainment only.

Yamamoto exhaled slowly, his breath hot on her neck.  It made Lisa’s skin shiver as she leaned over her work.  “No,” he said softly, placing his strong hands on either side of hers on the desk.  “That’s wrong.  Do it again.”

    She closed her eyes, exasperated.  “Again?  Seriously?”

    Moist air clouded her jawline as he leaned even closer to her, and the chair creaked as he pushed it slightly forward as he bent over her.  “Yes.  Seriously,” he whispered, and his lips were almost touching the flesh of her earlobe; Lisa fought the urge to turn her head and suck them viciously between her own, instead turning back towards the paper in front of them.  Her pencil hovered above it for a second as she hesitated, concentrating, and then she carefully completed the problem.  She felt relief slide over her until his hands abruptly left her field of vision, and Lisa realized he was walking swiftly towards his own desk.

    “Good work,” he said over his shoulder, shooting her a small smile before sitting down.  Lisa poked her bottom lip out in a shameless pout, and he raised one eyebrow over an amber eye before returning to his own work. 
Smirking
, she saw, and shook her head affectionately.  The man was actually
smirking
at her disappointment.

    She didn’t actually mind.  In fact, she didn’t think she would ever get tired of the endless parade of mirthful expressions that now covered Yamamoto’s previously stoic face; to be honest, she only liked it better when he was...  Provoked.  Aroused. 

    In ecstasy, as he sometimes said. 
It’s not the moment it happens
, he told her as he slid the silky washcloth over her body in the bath, kissing her throat between thoughts. 
It’s not then--when
I
finish.  That’s practically inconsequential.
  Lisa twisted in the bath to look up at him, her face skeptical; as their bodies crashed into each other again, her soft breasts bouncing against his hard chest as the water sloshed over the edge of the tub, she’d watched his eyes begin to glow with the simmering heat she knew so well.  They swept over her, from her crossed ankles where they dangled over the surface of the water, to her floating ass cheeks, to her disbelieving face as she looked into his.  Yamamoto laughed at her expression, and she felt his arms coil around her, pulling her tight against him. 
It’s before
, he’d whispered, and then his plush lips were against hers, his hands creeping lower along her spine
.  It’s when you’re coming that I
...  His fingers teased over her ass, sliding along the soapy center towards her swelling lips. 
That’s when it’s best
, Yamamoto whispered, gripping her suddenly and pulling her up so that she straddled him, her nipples hard and so close to his lips.  His tongue shot out and teased them while his cock slipped inside of her body, making Lisa gasp. 
Your ecstasy is my ecstasy
, he said, and when he moved within her, clasping her body in his wire tight embrace, she knew it was the truth.

    Lisa Tyrell was in love.

    That had been their first weekend together.  The first time they’d spoken or seen each other outside of a professional capacity; the first time he’d made love to her... 
That’s not right
, Lisa thought, frowning slightly as she pretended to continue working on the problems before her.  At the time, she hadn’t been sure if that’s what he’d been doing--he’d just never been
inside
her before.  But after making her shake with desire and exquisite pain, after making her beg him to come and to stop, she supposed Yamamoto really only
ever
made love to her, even if it wasn’t using traditional methods.  So be it, she thought, remembering as she absently tapped the eraser of her pencil against the page.  That weekend was the first time he’d fucked her.

    Just a hint of the memory sent another shiver racing over her body.  Her back arched involuntarily, and it made her grind against the hard rubber of the heavy toy sitting upright inside of her; Lisa suppressed a groan and the urge to bounce on it.  She’d been told not to squirm, or he’d take her new toy away.  She noticed Yamamoto watching her and ducked her head over her paper again.

    But it was too distracting--the long, thick molded cock inside of Lisa stretched her body just as he did, and thoughts of Yamamoto continued to sweep across her mind.  That first moment alone, finally, totally alone--no office, no children, no one but her and Ken Yamamoto, flame-eyed and fierce in the twilight.  The hotel he’d chosen was so expensive she’d only ever read about the interior of the rooms in magazines, so elegant she gasped when she opened the door to their suite, but he’d still been nervous.  “Do you like it?”  He watched her eyes for any sign of disapproval, but Lisa was only able to nod.

    “It’s lovely,” she said, and strode towards the balcony.  The ocean yawned before them, the sun dropping below the horizon only moments ago.  “It’s all...  It’s all so beautiful.”  Lisa had never been on vacation without her children before; she and her boss had only just confessed their uneasy feelings for each other three days previous.  Three awkward, frightening, desperate days.  The magnitude of change in her life had unsettled her; Lisa suddenly found important reasons not to be in the single, opulent office she shared with her boss.  The brilliant color of his eyes slowly dimmed, and by that Friday they almost reverted to their previous equilibrium: professional, cool, distant.  “I need you to come with me to San Diego tonight,” he told her that morning.  “I must have you there--the Avery deal is supposed to be closed this weekend, and you know their file better than I do.”  She wanted to object, but when she’d looked up at him and seen the fire returned to his eyes... 

It wasn’t wrong, that she’d needed time to process what had happened between them.  It wasn’t wrong for her to need more than two days and thirty orgasms to believe he might love her.  She knew he knew that, as well.  But Yamamoto insisted she come on this suddenly urgent ‘business trip,’ and Lisa’s sister graciously offered to watch the kids.  Her hands were sweaty as she stared out at the violet sea.  On the plane, they’d spoken only of the Avery file, the impending Patterson closing, and whether or not her contract covered travel costs. 

They certainly hadn’t discussed the way his long, elegant fingers crept constantly to the edge of his seat--that, for the first time she could ever remember, his tie was loose around his neck.  Yamamoto was tall, and the seats were uncomfortable for him; when he stood up to pace the aisle of the plane, their legs pressed against each other for just a second as he passed.  He froze.  “Ms. Tyrell,” he said softly, “thank you for coming with me.  This would be very difficult without you.”

Lisa was trying to erase everything she’d learned about his face--each mercurial shift of expression seemed almost noisy to her now, when for so long she’d believed him utterly impassive.  “It’s an honor, sir,” she said.  It was; none of the office harpies ever accompanied him on business trips.  A flash of emotion--worry, relief, she couldn’t be sure--raced over his features, and then he nodded stiffly and was gone.

It was only once they reached the hotel that he revealed their rooms were next to one another.  As they rode up to the top floor in the elevator, his eyes were trained on his own reflection.  Lisa felt her heart begin to pound.

She shouldn’t have come.

Was she crazy?

She should be telling him she was in love with him right now,
she thought, her breath beginning to keep pace with her racing heart.  She should’ve just said it aloud when he had, back in the office, when he confessed... 
Could this be real?
  Lisa stared back at her own reflection, trying to see what he claimed to, and almost shook her head. 

No.

The walk down the long hallway to their rooms seemed to take an eternity.  He politely opened her door for her and settled her bags inside as she took in the vast chamber.  Lisa practically ran to the terrace door and pulled it aside, racing to the edge of the balcony as the breeze pressed against her.  Her heart felt as though it were about to take flight; the rapid mix of emotion inside of her chest terrified her.

She needed to keep control, no matter how excited...  No matter how much she might feel.

    “Ms...  Lisa,” Yamamoto said, watching her from the door.  “I hope...  I had to see you somewhere private, somewhere we could talk without...”

    “I’m glad to be here,” she said, turning towards him.  The sky was a rich violet, the breeze picking up behind her.  “Neutral ground,” Lisa continued, shrugging, “is a good idea for beginning a real relationship.”  Realizing how that sounded, she was suddenly afraid and immediately backpedaled.  “I mean, I’m not trying to make any assumptions about what you’re expecting from this--” 
I love you
, she thought, but the words caught in her throat, and careful, pre-made excuses came out instead.  “I think this is a good idea, being here, instead of the office, to talk it out.  Whatever it is we’re talking out.”  She bit her lip.

    Yamamoto’s face was half hidden in the long shadows.  “What do you need?”  He asked, and she frowned, confused.

    “What do you mean?  I don’t need anything right now, except--” 
You.
  “Perhaps some dinner?”

    He took a slow step towards her, and as the night grew thicker around them his expression remained invisible.  “What do you need from me?” 

   
So many things
, she thought.  
Too many
.  “I’m not--I don’t know--”

    He was finally next to her, so close she almost took a tiny step back out of habit.  The last bit of light caught his eyes, and they were electric with desperation and desire.  “--I love you,” he whispered, the sound so soft the wind stole it away.  “I
love
you, Lisa,” he said again, and she felt a knot of fear and want in her throat.  “I love you,” he told her, and then his hands were around her waist, his lips hot against her throat.  “What can I give you, to show you--”  She gasped as his hands slid under her shirt, and let out a startled cry as they roughly tore the waistline of her skirt open, the fabric falling around her feet and leaving her bare.  “What do you need from me to
see
--”  His warm, strong fingers slipped between the thin seams of her blouse and ripped them apart, buttons flying across the balcony, scattering in the breeze.  “Lisa, you are
everything
to me,” he whispered, and his fingertips were suddenly still against her bare skin, resting above the thin elastic of her panties.  Her shirt flapped in the wind, and she leaned back against the rough, pebbled concrete of the balcony wall, the flimsy iron rail her only grip.  “I will give you anything,” he whispered, “I will
do
anything, just please...”  His voice was desperate with longing, and he panted into her hair, his forehead pressed into the rough concrete of the wall above her head.  His fingertips curled around the elastic, pulling it taunt.  “I know I make your body feel...  I know I can give you pleasure,” he said, and she heard his voice shaking.  Slowly, she reached up and pulled his face towards hers, her palms flat on his smooth cheeks.  “But what I
feel
--I just need to know if there’s anything I can
give
you, to hear you say...”  His eyes clenched shut in humiliation.  “You never said...”