The Night Tiger(108)

A tea tray sat on the bed. I drank the tea, ate most of the toast, and even brushed my teeth with the toothbrush he’d bought at the pharmacy. Then I climbed into bed and turned the lights out. Unreasonably, tears of disappointment threatened to squeeze their way out of my eyes. What had I been thinking, that Shin would finally make a move? That was clearly never going to happen. The things he liked about me—blunt, straightforward, a good sport—weren’t descriptions anybody used for heroines in novels. They were only good for sidekicks like Dr. Watson. I buried my head beneath the hard pillows and sobbed silently.

The door opened, and I froze. Shin stood silhouetted against the corridor light. Then he shut the door with a quiet click, went into the bathroom and started washing up. It was best to pretend I was asleep. Gritting my teeth, I vowed I’d never let him know I’d cried. No sooner had I decided this than he came back in again and slid into bed beside me.

The sound of the rain had lessened, but it was still drizzling steadily. I could hear water running off the roof, the creak of the bed as Shin lay down. I held my breath, heart pounding so fiercely that I was afraid he could hear it.

“Are you asleep?” The way he said it, so softly, made my heart break. It wasn’t fair for Shin to use that tone of voice with me. I exhaled, but it came out as a strangled sob.

“What’s the matter? Are you crying?” He sat up suddenly.

It was useless to hide it, not when Shin pulled the pillow off my face. The street lamp shone in through the rain-flecked windows and he could see my disheveled hair, the tearstains on my face.

“Is it Robert?”

Shin, you idiot, I thought, rubbing my face. Robert was the least of my worries, but Shin leaned over me. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and I had that feeling again. That breathless, churning sensation whenever he got too close to me. I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Do you really like him that much? He’s not worth it.”

“I’m not crying about Robert.”

“Then what is it? Are you in pain?”

This was so ludicrous that I didn’t know whether to laugh or start crying again, while in the meantime, Shin was sitting half naked next to me. I could only say, “Why did you go away just now?”

“I was thinking.” He was watching me, eyes dark and unreadable. My stomach twisted, hard. I couldn’t lie on my back and have him lean over me like that; it was a disadvantage for me. When had the muscles of his arms and chest become so lean, so beautifully cut in the half-light from the window?

I struggled to sit up. “Again? About what?”

“I’ve been waiting for years. I don’t think I can wait anymore.” He put his hand on my waist, beneath the shirt. I could see the pulse throbbing in the hollow of Shin’s throat, the half-anxious, half-questioning look in his eyes. I couldn’t breathe.

“Has Robert kissed you?”

I nodded, wordlessly.

A flash of anger. “Well, I’m better.”

I was sure he was going to say something else rude but instead he put the other hand behind my neck and kissed me.

There was a weak feeling in my legs, spreading up slowly towards the center of my body. A hot, melting sensation. His lips were soft and fierce. They trailed over my skin, forced my mouth open. I could feel the beating of his heart, the grip of his hand as it slid dangerously up my waist. “Shin!” I drew my breath in sharply, but he kissed me harder, on my mouth, my neck, pulling impatiently at the shirt I wore. This was everything I’d hoped for, yet so much faster and more urgent that it almost frightened me. “Wait!” I said, breathlessly, as we slid back onto the bed.

“Why?” He was tugging at the buttons now.

“Because we can’t. We shouldn’t.” My thoughts were jumbled, falling apart even as I wrapped my arms around him.

“Yes, we should. Otherwise you won’t be mine.” Shin buried his face in my neck again, his hands cupping my breasts. An electric current shot through me; I gasped and smacked them away.

“I’ve always been yours. So please stop.”

“No, you haven’t.” He sat up, running his hand through the dark hair that fell across his face. “This past month is the first time you’ve ever looked at me like this—it’s always been Ming with you!”

Cheeks blazing, I couldn’t think of what to say.

“Though if it were Ming, I’d be willing to give up. But not for someone like Robert,” he said bitterly.

“Shin,” I touched his face. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

“Of course I do. It’s always been you.”

“Then what about all those other girls?” I said indignantly. “What were you doing with them?”

“Trying to forget you, you idiot.”

His mouth lit a slow, fevered trail between my breasts. To my shame, a moan escaped my lips and I bit them hard. Shin went on kissing me deliberately, taking his time. Touching me expertly, filling me with a yearning, slippery ache. There was a buzzing in my ears; my skin burned. I had that strange feeling again, that twisting mixture of curiosity, fear, and unbearable excitement. I didn’t know this Shin, this stranger with the lean, hard body of a man, not a boy. I didn’t know myself, either. That part of me that wanted to bite him, suck the tips of his fingers, consume him. He groaned softly as I dug my fingers into his back, feeling dizzy with triumph and pleasure. Then I felt his knees nudging my legs apart, that urgent heat pressed against my thigh, and I realized he was serious.