Lana(6)

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I said against his chest, not willing to pull away, even to speak.

He made that sympathetic little humming noise in his throat, kissing the top of my head softly. “It’s me. I’m a bastard. I’m sorry. And you’re probably tired from the flight. Wanna take a nap? We can try the beach later, or even on another day.”

I made a sound of protest. “I leave in two days.”

I felt his chest expand on a deep breath. “Wow. I was hoping you’d stay a bit longer. That’s so short, after all of those years away. Don’t you miss it here, just a little?”

I wanted to sob like a baby. I wanted to hit him. It was such a cruel question, coming from him. But I just stayed flush against him as tears ran down my cheeks in an embarrassing flood.

His chest rumbled in distress as he felt my tears streaming down my face and then his chest. “Oh, baby, how you must hate me.”

I sobbed at that, because I didn’t. Because I couldn’t.

He picked me up, cradling me like the baby I was. He kissed my forehead as he carried me upstairs. My eyes were closed when he laid me on his bed. I wouldn’t let go of him when he tried to straighten. He laughed, a sweet little rumble against my cheek. “Is there a reason that you’re hanging onto me like a monkey?” he asked, amused.

“Can you stay with me, for just a minute?”

He made a soothing sound as he lay down beside me. I tried to cuddle closer, but saw that he’d put a pillow between our lower regions. I shrank back, my shoulders hunched. He was wary even to touch me. And he should have been. I was an infatuated fool, just like he’d said. I turned away from him, burying my face in his pillow. It smelled like him; I wanted to take it home. He threw an arm around me from behind, pulling my back against his chest, and my butt against the…pillow. He spoke against my ear. “We all missed you, you know. It hasn’t been the same without you. Not even close.”

“I thought you hated me,” I said quietly, holding my breath to hear his answer.

He cursed, but stroked my hair, as though to soften the cursing. “Never, Lana. Never. I was afraid of that. Am I the reason you’ve stayed away for so long?”

I didn’t answer, and he squeezed me tighter. “You’re right, I just need a nap. I’m out of my mind tired. I’m not usually like this, I swear.”

He sighed against me. “You take a nap. I’ll make us some dinner, k?”

I didn’t answer, just burrowed more deeply into his divinely smelling bed.

He kissed the top of my head before leaving me. He didn’t hate me, I thought, as I drifted off to sleep. It was something.

I was wrapped in Akira’s arms again when I awoke. There was no pillow now. My leg was hiked up high on his hip, our chests rubbing together with every breath. I glanced at his face. Still asleep. I moved against him very slightly, and found that not all of him was asleep. I moved again, and moaned. His erection was so hard and thick, straining at his shorts in a glorious display. I knew he was only responding to me because he was asleep, but it didn’t seem to matter. I began to rub against him, panting as our chests rubbed together, and his hard c**k rubbed against my sex. His hand caressed my hip, pulling me closer as he grunted in his sleep, eyes still closed.

My tiny bikini suddenly felt so oppressive, and I untied the top impatiently, rubbing my ni**les against his chest. The hand on my hip moved up, kneading at the pliant flesh. I turned onto my back to give him better access. He stroked my full, sensitive br**sts until I squirmed. I untied my bikini bottoms, guiding his hand lower, putting his fingers right on my sex. His talented fingers took over from there, rubbing and stroking until I was panting.

I glanced at his face. His eyes were still closed, but his face was flushed, his breath harsh. “Mmm, Lana,” he murmured, his fingers plunging inside of me. His erection was pressed against my hip now, and I touched him, stroking him roughly over his shorts. “Milena,” he said, his voice sounding irritated. But still, the sound of her name on his lips froze me in my tracks. I tugged his busy hand out of me, extricating myself from him with regret. He didn’t know what he was doing, and I had very nearly taken advantage of that fact. I curled into a ball, shrinking away from him. I felt him wake with a start a moment later. He hugged me from behind again, as though nothing had happened, and began to relax back into sleep.

He felt along my hip, and then, very lightly, felt the spot on my back, where my bikini should be tied. He cursed, and I felt him begin to search for the missing scraps of material. I rolled onto my back, throwing an arm over my eyes. He sucked in a breath as he looked at me. He shook my shoulder lightly. I parted my legs slightly, arching my back a little to give him a better view, my arm still covering my eyes stubbornly.

I felt him freeze, and I knew that he was staring at me. He didn’t move for so long that I shifted again, parting my legs farther apart, wanting to see what he would do. Could he see how wet I was? The room was far from dark. From the light streaming in the window, I would have guessed that it was late afternoon.

I felt Akira move off the bed, and heard the sound of rustling clothing, then the unmistakable sound of flesh slapping against flesh.

He would rather jerk himself off than touch me, I thought, shocked and furious at the thought.

I lifted my arm from my eyes, unable to keep from looking. He was standing at the edge of the bed, gloriously naked, and gripping his huge erection in both hands. His jaw was clenched, his nostrils flared. He released himself as our eyes met, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. It was his favorite phrase lately. I hated it.