*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1326865-Bittersweet-Fyre
Rated: GC · Other · Erotica · #1326865
Their relationship was the most painful part of it all...
*Note*Prelude/Excerpt to a possible novel.

Bittersweet Fyre [Novel Prelude] Image


         She sashayed only for him, slender hips moving in a deliberate erotic motion in time to the slow beat of the music. Her long red hair flowed like waves down her back as she arched against the steel pole that seemed to shimmer in the dimmed lights. She licked full red lips and pursed them in a semblance of a kiss towards him. She winked, her rather heavy makeup overshadowing the genuine beauty of her dark green eyes. They whispered of hidden secrets and unspoken promises. She darted out a pink tongue to lick the cold steel as her lithe and nimble frame seemed to melt against the pole. Her red thong rode even higher between her firm buttocks and for a glorious moment, her puckered hole and lips of her womanhood glistened hungrily for attention – a sinful temptation that was all his for the taking. Her full breasts threatened to spill from the barely there matching bikini top and as she lifted a long, slender leg for an encore, her audience crowed in delight at the exclusive sight.

         With the crescendo of the music finally winding down to a slow rhythm, she lowered her leg carefully and reached for the long silk red robe – which had been discarded earlier at the beginning of her performance – from the podium and promptly threw it over her shoulder. It was a clear indication that the show was over. Reality was back to remind her of just where she was as the loud and hungry audience, mainly composed of men already half-intoxicated, cried out for more. But with a blown kiss and a toss of her long hair, she walked away with a grace that did not betray the rather uncomfortable red six inch high-heels on her feet.

         A very pleased stage manager came running towards her once she stepped through the black curtains. "Great show tonight, Yayoi!"

         "Thanks, Steve." Her voice was rich and sultry. It had a trace of an accent that one could not pinpoint, but it did not deter from the cultured tones or the fact that the woman sounded intelligent. "You still owe me ten bucks for putting on this shitty outfit though."

         Jovial laughter rang out in the cluttered backroom as Steve seemed to find her comments extremely funny. Smiling wanly in response, Yayoi Hisoka, popularly known as Fyre around these parts – kicked off the painful shoes and tried her best to get out of the way of the other girls who were all getting ready for their own acts tonight. The heavy smell of cheap perfume coupled with cigarette smoke and alcohol had the young woman gagging and longing for fresh air. She yearned for a warm bath in which she could soak away the pressures and stress of the day and even better, the soothing comfort of her bed.

         "Hey, Yayoi!"

         She groaned and braced herself for the inevitable, her body stiffening in readiness for what was to come. She really didn't feel like facing the infamous Hydra tonight. Blonde, big, beautiful and one of the hottest tickets around, Hydra liked to make her presence known to everyone, even if they didn't welcome it. She was loud and crass and bragged a lot about her conquests – most of them involving the latest movie star or professional athlete she had slept with the night before. Most of the girls in the locker rooms couldn't stand her but there was no doubt that she was to be respected, since she was considered a pioneer in the strip club industry.

         "Hi, Hydra," Yayoi greeted quietly while mustering up a warm smile – at least she hoped it was.

         The blonde grinned and smacked even louder on her bubblegum, eyes as green as Yayoi's flashing with excitement. She was already dressed for her performance tonight and the white bodysuit, which was like a second skin, was only a prelude to the tantalizing show she was bound to put up later.

         "I saw him out there tonight again, Yayoi," she crooned sweetly as she leaned closer. "So when are you going to introduce us, hmm?"

         Feign ignorance, the red head thought quickly as she continued to smile albeit tightly at the woman whose mingled breath of mint and nicotine was becoming overwhelming to her senses.

         "I'm not sure who you're talking about, Hydra. There were many men out there tonight."

         "Oh please," came the impatient snort. "As if I'm going to let you get away with that dumb act tonight. You know damn well who I'm talking about."

         Hydra's voice was getting louder by the minute and several girls had begun to eavesdrop on the conversation even though they were doing a pretty terrible job of pretending not to be doing so. Yayoi placed a finger against her temple to stop the growing headache that was coming on.

         "Oh...you mean him," she said dryly as if finally adding two and two together. "Well...yeah, he was here-"
         "You promised to introduce me to him," Hydra interrupted curtly. "I don't get it. He always comes for your show and you both practically make out there each and every night and yet he never stays to see me."

         Yayoi raised a brow and fought the urge to smack the pouting woman before her. Hydra was beginning to sound and act like a spoiled little brat and it was anything but charming to see.

         "Hydra! You're on in five!" Steve bellowed as he stuck his head into the locker room. "What's keeping ya, princess? Your fans are waiting."

                   The blonde sulked and blew a large bubble with her gum. It popped loudly and she twirled it around a finger as she winked at the flushing man. "Be right there in a sec, darling. We've got to keep the fans wanting more, hmm?" She jiggled her voluptuous body and Yayoi had to turn away from the sight of Hydra's huge breasts dancing the tango. She made to leave but a firm hand on her shoulder stilled any attempts to escape.

         "When are you going to introduce him to me, Yayoi?" she asked a bit coldly now, as her long fingernails dug into the redhead's shoulder. "I'm getting impatient."

         Yayoi fought back a wince but continued to maintain a polite smile. The witch had plans to rip her skin off and if she wasn't careful, who knew what Hydra was capable of doing? Rumor had it that she had once clawed a fellow stripper's face and the poor girl had been through reconstructive surgery. Yayoi wasn't sure she wanted to go down that road.

         "I'll ask him tonight to come to your show," she finally replied tightly. "Now could you let go of me?"

         Hydra grinned in satisfaction and to Yayoi's chagrin, leaned closer to plant a wet kiss upon her lips. "Thanks, darling. I'll be waiting!" And giving the flabbergasted girl a wink, Hydra sauntered out of the room, leaving her heavy floral perfume in her wake.

         As soon as she was out of earshot and sight, the girls in the room began to murmur among themselves as Yayoi staggered towards her dresser to fall heavily into her chair. She closed her eyes and leaned back wearily, her head now throbbing with a headache that would need more than just a few painkillers to take care of. She did her best to ignore the noises, knowing full well that they were all talking about her and the incident with 'Lady' Hydra.

         Yayoi wouldn't consider herself a rival as she had never really thought much of competing with anyone in this business, but as time had gone by and her fan base had grown, the rumors had begun to spread on some sort of rivalry between she and the Blonde Bombshell. Yayoi for her part had done her best to dispel the rumors by staying as far away from Hydra as much as possible. For one thing, she did not have a special room like the blonde did and Yayoi really didn't mind. She enjoyed her little corner of heaven, a small dresser with her special items upon it. Besides, she wouldn't admit that she sometimes enjoyed hanging out with the girls in the room and listening in to their loud conversations ranging from how slow the businesses were or to how and who they had spent the night with. It was a welcome scene from the sometimes lonely days at her apartment and it was much better than having to be shacked in a separate room and being alienated from others.

         "Aww...isn't that sweet?"

         She opened her eyes at the words; green eyes filled with confusion as a small bouquet of flowers was suddenly thrust before her face. She blinked in surprise and eyed the grinning girl beside her.

         "Lily..." she began as she sat upright to reach for the flowers. She really ought to know who had sent them and even before the initials on the small card glared at her, she could feel the tug of a smile on her lips. She opened the card and read the simple message inside before shaking her head slowly and closing it back up.

         "I think it's so romantic," Lily gushed as she sat on an empty chair beside Yayoi's dresser. She was now dressed in street clothes and at eighteen, was the youngest stripper the club had. She was friendly and rather sweet and had been hired just six months ago. She worked the six o'clock shift – a time when a few early customers were in the club. Yayoi assumed it was a good schedule for a girl who was still getting used to the catcalls and demands for lap dances. Lily was like a little sister to her and she had found herself on more than one occasion sticking up for the younger girl.

         "What's so romantic about it?" she replied casually as she eyed the eclectic bouquet. He really was weird when it came to things like this. Why he couldn't pick out something simple like a bunch of red or white or pink roses, Yayoi could never understand. But that was JT for you. He was as eclectic as he was mysterious. Upon a closer search, hidden among the chrysanthemums and baby breaths and some purple flower she couldn't identify, a single white rose stuck out like a sore thumb. With a smirk, Yayoi pulled it out carefully before thrusting the rest of the bouquet towards the blushing teen.

         "Here you go. Your own bouquet of eccentricity."

         Lily giggled and accepted it with a mock curtsy. She enjoyed being with the redhead and had immediately adopted her as a mentor at first sight. Yayoi had been the only one to show her the ropes and to make her feel comfortable in this business. She smiled softly and held the flowers to her nose, inhaling their sweet fragrance as she watched the older woman begin to wipe away her makeup. Lily really didn't understand why Yayoi even bothered with the added color. Yayoi was stunning without it. Her long red hair was now being plaited into two tight braids that hung over her shoulders like a young school girl's. Quick and steady hands, long used to this routine, began the process of clearing away the layers of paint that had been applied an hour earlier. In about five minutes, gone was Fyre the Stripper and instead a woman who looked no older than twenty remained in her wake.

         Her cheeks glowed from the extra scrubbing she had done to get the thick foundations off and her once bright red lips were now a soft pink that had been moistened by her tongue to make them soft and kissable. Gone were the heavy mascara and fake eyelashes and now breathtaking green eyes were made even more vivid and appealing.

         As she rose to her feet to change into her jeans and t-shirt, Lily asked a bit shyly. "So...eh...is he your boyfriend or what? You've never said anything about him-"

         "That's because he's just a friend, Lil'," Yayoi interrupted quietly as she slipped into her black lace bra. "I've known him for a while now and we just get along."

         "You two look great together and he's really...hot." The girl giggled self-consciously. "Don't mind me! I'm just admiring him that's all. He's got eyes for you only. I've seen the way he looks at you."

         Yayoi stopped long enough to stare blindly into the fuchsia colored t-shirt in her hands. "No," she mumbled softly. "He doesn't see me. He sees someone else...anyone but me." Shrugging lightly, she slipped into the shirt and tugged it down roughly. Tight fitting jeans were pulled up her slender hips and ramming her black wool hat over her head, she reached for her matching jacket and shrugged it on.

         "How are you getting home tonight? Do you want us to give you a lift?"

         Lily shook her head and smiled warmly. "No thanks. My boyfriend's coming over to pick me." She blushed and lowered her lashes. "Ah, it's his birthday tonight, and I promised him something special."

         Yayoi chuckled and leaned close to place a soft kiss on her colored cheeks. "Be careful, sweetheart, and I'll see you on Wednesday, okay?"

         "All right. And you be careful too!"

         Grinning in response, Yayoi slung her black duffel bag over her shoulder and reached for the single white rose. She waved goodbye to the other girls and as she pushed the door leading to the exit, she could hear the dull but familiar beats of Hydra's signature song. It looked like the goddess was about to descend upon the masses to fulfill their fantasies.

         Away from the noise, clutter and thick smell of the club, the fresh air in the parking lot was a welcome reprieve and Yayoi gulped it in gratefully as her gaze drifted over the few cars in this section of the club. It took her only a few seconds to recognize the silent form of her best friend leaning against the brand new Mustang convertible. As black as its dark-clad master, both made a dangerous and exciting combination in the night air. His tall and strong frame was hidden beneath a well tailored suit that seemed to fit him just perfectly. His hands were buried within his pockets as he continued to lean against the hood of the car, while watching her progress with interest. His full lips quirked into a small smile, dark eyes lighting up with amusement as he noticed that she was only holding a single flower. He withdrew an elegant and slender hand to run it through his thick, black but rather short tresses, whistling softly in appreciation.

         "If I had known I was coming to pick up little Gretel, I would have come in my magic school bus." He laughed and dodged the fist that came flying towards him while catching the slender wrist in a strong but tender grip. A wicked glint filled his dark eyes as he pulled her closer to his sinewy length. With a soft kiss placed on her forehead, he whispered thickly into her ear.

         "Welcome back, my precious Fyre. Great show tonight."

         She cursed inwardly as she felt her body respond to his close proximity, his words, his voice, his scent...everything. Her cheeks flared with color as she continued to struggle fruitlessly.

         "Thank...thank you," she replied as flippantly as possible, trying not to show how flustered she was beginning to feel inside. She knew she couldn't continue to have these feelings for a man who had made it clear that he wished to remain friends and nothing else. She had to deal with the disappointment when he had announced it on that fateful day three years ago, but he had been nothing but kind and wonderful to her and she had reluctantly agreed to remain friends and friends only.

         "You came late though," she observed as she stopped fighting long enough to tickle his chin with the rose. "You almost missed the great encore."

         He laughed again, a rich hearty sound that was a rarity in itself. Yayoi felt pleased that she was one of the few people who could make him make him smile and it was something she felt possessive about. It also wasn't helping with her pounding heart. She simply loved that simple act from him.

         "I'm sorry," he said around a soft chuckle as he caressed her cheek gently. His dark eyes seemed to twinkle with unbridled mirth as he released her wrist to wrap his arms around her slender frame. "I got tied up in traffic as usual. Now, don't I at least get a hug for showing up? You haven't given me one in...a week or so."

         He smiled again and Yayoi knew that she would be powerless to resist granting him whatever he wanted now. With a light snort, as if forced to do this against her will, she allowed herself to be engulfed in his embrace. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent of some expensive cologne and yet the underlying unique scent that was just Jonathan. Her arms tightened around his waist and if he noticed the small and nearly desperate act, he said nothing but reciprocated her actions with a soft kiss placed upon her head. Yayoi felt that she could remain this way forever but they would have to leave or risk the chance of freezing to death out here.

         "Take me home," she murmured as she pulled away gently and began to make her way towards the passenger door. "I need to wash away my sins."


_____________________________



         The drive back to the penthouse was a rather quiet one. Yayoi drifted in and out of sleep and all the words he planned to tell her were held back as he had no plans to disturb her much-needed rest. He was reluctant to wake her up from her light doze and she was surprised to find herself at his place. She had protested, much to his bemusement, but finally gave in when he promised to make dinner for her.

         And now, with his black sweater sleeves rolled up to his arms and a simple white apron around his waist for protection, he raised the soup spoon to his lips and tasted the sauce he had created. He made a face and reached for the bottle of Italian seasoning on his left. Adding a generous amount, he began to hum softly beneath his breath as he opened up the oven to check on the sirloin steaks he had begun baking earlier. He was feeling remarkably good today and he wanted to share the good news with his best friend and also use this opportunity to show just how well he had progressed in his culinary skills.

         In addition to those, Jonathan Toriyama – simply JT to most friends – was one of the most successful self-made businessmen in the world. He had not been born rich, far from it in fact. From humble beginnings in a small town off the coast of Japan, Jonathan had been raised to believe that hard work and dedication were the keys to success.

         Born to a Japanese father and an American mother, Jonathan had been blessed with movie star looks and an IQ of over 200. This distinction and his belief that he was meant for greater things had caused Jonathan's childhood to be quite rough. His aloof nature and one-track minded determination to succeed and escape the slums of his upbringing had not made him very popular with his peers at the time. His parents had not even supported him that much despite his attempts to get them to see that his true calling lay somewhere beyond the waters of Okinawa.

         Seishiro Toriyama had been a proud man who was quite successful in his own right. His fishing business had raised enough money to make him one of the richest men in his town at the time. Besides Jonathan, he had three other daughters to take care of and all of them had either spent their time after school helping out with the chores or on fishing trips.

         Although his only son had been with him once or twice on such trips, finding Jonathan to complete any chore given to him was a task in itself. His son was prone to disappearing for hours at a time and there had been times when search parties had gone in the hopes of discovering the boy before nightfall. But each and every time, Jonathan would come back home on his own, with no apologies or explanations for his disappearance. He accepted his punishments either in the form of beatings or no food for the night, with no protests at all. He did not cry when whipped and this seemed to anger his father to no end. He would sometimes listen to his parents arguing at night – his mother's pleading cries for Seishiro to forgive his wayward son or at least to spare his life.

         Jonathan loved his mother; there was no doubt about that. And although he knew he disappointed her with his actions, he had told her his plans for the future when he was ten years old.

         As usual, he had been away for most of the day and finally arrived home sometime before midnight. He thought he would be able to creep in through the window to get to his room, but he had peeked in to find his father sleeping on a chair right beside it as if waiting for his return. There was the long leather switch by his side and Jonathan could feel his skin crawl with a conditioned sense of pain at what was bound to happen to him once he came in.

         Sighing heavily, he crawled around their small home being careful not to alert their two large dogs that had only perked up a little but went back to sleep when they realized who it was. He would sleep on the porch tonight and suffer the cold and then run off again in the morning, but his footsteps stilled as he saw the huddled figure sleeping on a futon at the very spot he had planned to stay. On closer inspection, he blinked in surprise at his mother's tear-streaked face even though she was still in restless sleep.

         "Jon...Jon...where are you?" she mumbled as another tear slid down her cheek. "Come back home...Jon..."

         The young boy had felt a guilt and remorse so deep cut through his heart at the sadness that seemed to emanate from his mother in waves. He leaned over her sleeping form and hugged her tightly, thin arms dirty with his efforts of the day, holding her small form as close to him as possible.

         "I'm here, mother and I'll always be here for you," he whispered softly. "But I have to go and make you proud of me. I'll work hard and I'll be rich and I'll come back to take you away from here. I promise."

         That would be the last time Jonathan would see his mother alive. As morning dawned, the boy set off towards the docks with nothing but the shirt on his back and the money he had managed to save from doing odd jobs for the past few weeks. And with his goals and ideals for becoming even richer than his father could ever dream of, Jonathan Toriyama at ten years old, set off to his motherland to achieve his full potential.


_________


         "Hmmmm that smells good," Yayoi moaned in appreciation as she inhaled the rich smells that wafted from the kitchen. She was dressed in only a white towel robe, her long red hair now damp and limp around her flushed visage as she padded on bare feet into the kitchen. "What's for dinner or should I say early morning breakfast?"

         Jonathan laughed softly and held up a forkful of the pasta he had been stirring in a glass bowl, towards her lips. "Have a taste," he cajoled as he watched her lips part to accept the food willingly. He raised a brow and waited for her verdict, dark eyes narrowing in anticipation. She licked her lips and then focused her gaze to the ceiling as if contemplating the right words to say. After thirty seconds of this, Jonathan growled in impatience. "Well? Does it suck that badly?"

         The redhead couldn't help snickering at the combined looks of worry and yet annoyance on her friend's face. He really could act like an overgrown baby at times. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she placed a soft kiss on his nose and whispered softly. "It tastes wonderful, my dear. Now, I'll go help set the place up and you dish out the food, okay?"

         She released him with a warm smile and made her way towards the cabinets that housed the fine china in his collection. She never ceased to be amazed at how well kept and tastefully furnished his apartment was. His tastes were excellent and his sense of judgment on what looked good and what didn't was a testament to his savvy with the upper echelon of society. He loved the simple things in life, but yet had no qualms spending money on the latest technology for his pleasure. His state-of-the-art entertainment center was the best money could buy and had been specially designed and built to his requirements and specifications. From the stereo to the lights of his home, it seemed as if everything could be activated with just the sound of his voice. And now, with its lights dimmed and the only source of illumination coming from the kitchen and the fireplace, there was an undeniable romantic feeling in the air and Yayoi would have been a fool not to notice it.

         Sadly, she knew that as usual, nothing was going to happen between them in that way. They would forever remain in this circle of 'friendship' that was beginning to put a strain on her mental psyche. They had been intimate once and that had been three years ago when she first laid eyes on him at a mutual friend's party.

         She was nineteen at the time and had just graduated from college with a degree in Mathematics. The party was thrown by one of her richer classmates and she hadn't even been that close to him. However, she had showed up all the same and was surprised at the number of celebrities there. Yayoi had never thought of herself as being beautiful and at nineteen, she felt too tall for her age, too skinny with a terribly high forehead and two left feet. All she had wanted to do was find a wall to crawl into and remain there for as long as she could.

         However, for some reason or another, she had drawn attention to herself. She tried to blame it all on her shocking red hair, which shone like a beacon for everyone far and wide. She had been 'cursed' with the rich color, but was unable to dye it to anything else as she always ended up getting cold feet at the last minute. The men and a few girls that had come by had all seemed interested to speak to her, but the moment she opened her mouth to tell them that she had a degree in Math; they either lost interest and feigned other important business to attend to. She was no fool; she knew why they wouldn't remain to speak to her. No one wanted to be seen around such a nerdy girl. Others had exotic and more important sounding degrees than 'Mathematics' and for the first time in her life, Yayoi felt as if she had picked the wrong subject to major in.

         After an hour of dealing with the shallow bastards, Yayoi made her way towards the parking lot to find a cab in the hopes of making herself scarce. She was getting a headache and vowed to call the host of the party, later on, to apologize for leaving early.

         "Leaving us so soon?"

         It was the timbre in the voice that had stilled her movement – the subtle strength and yet amusement within his tone that caused her to glance around in mild panic. It wasn't until she finally looked up to see him leaning over the railings of the balcony above her had she found herself falling ridiculously in love with the rakish, young man standing there.

         No, it wasn't love. It had to be something else. She didn't believe in love at first sight, did she?

         Nonetheless, there was no denying the unseen spark of mutual attraction that flowed between them as their eyes met. His dark and foreboding yet with a hint of warmth; she dark green and almost panicked as her heart seemed to skip several beats in rapid succession.

         "I...I was just going to..."

         "I don't blame you," he interrupted with a light laugh as he lifted the bottle of beer he had been drinking. He was dressed in a simple dark blue dress shirt that showed off his powerful shoulders. Black well-tailored pants draped over his strong thighs and legs as if made specifically for him and realizing she was staring too long, she flushed and turned away quickly.

         "This party blows."

         She hadn't meant to laugh but it simply came out from nowhere. She hadn't expected something so corny and cheesy to come out of his mouth, but it had and she gave in to the bubble of giggles that had been building within the pit of her stomach. It felt good to make that sound and she felt embarrassed at doing it. She lifted her head shyly to see if he was upset, but a mysterious smile was all that remained on his handsome visage as he continued to stare at her.

         "You should laugh more often," he finally said quietly as he raised the bottle to his lips again to take a swig. "You looked so unhappy being here."

         She had the grace to blush at being read so easily and she lowered her gaze again. Did this mean that he had watched her all evening? Oh dear. Why did that knowledge make her feel so hot and flustered? And why wouldn't her heart stop beating so fast?

         He finished his drink with a satisfied but quiet belch before tossing the empty bottle into a nearby trashcan. He smiled again and stepped back a little and before Yayoi could comprehend what he was about to do, he gave a light grunt and leaped over the rail to land beside her in a move that was so swift, she could have sworn she had imagined the entire thing.

         "Wha...what the hell did you do that for?!" she finally exploded in shock as a few guests also gaped in surprise at the man's actions. All he did was laugh again as he placed a hand upon her arm to lead her towards the parking lot.

         "I came to rescue you, my precious fire," he whispered into her ear, sending her cheeks and body flaring with a heat that was like nothing she had ever felt before. "Come with me. I promise I won't bite."


_________


         He watched her over the rim of his champagne glass with a raised brow. "What are you smiling about?"

         "Nothing." She placed another piece of the delicious steak into her mouth.

         He raised both brows. "I always knew you were a mysterious woman, but smiling for no good reason? What's the matter? Did you win a lottery that I should know about?"

         "No." She took a sip of the white wine and then laughed softly at the irritated look that flashed across his features. "Okay, okay. If you must know, I was just remembering the first day we met, that's all."

         "Oh...that." He looked embarrassed and began to push around the vegetables in his plate. "You weren't very accommodating at the time..."

         "You asshole," she retorted with little sting in the words as she nearly choked on her food. "You were trying to get into my pants on the first night. Why wouldn't I try to kick your ass then?"

         "Yeah, but you didn't have to try to rip my fucking hair out. I've still got the scars to prove it."

         "Liar," she muttered while spooning some soup into her mouth. "This is good though. You've greatly improved. I'm impressed."

         "But we did end up sleeping together, didn't we?" he said quietly and for the one millionth time that evening, Yayoi felt color creep into her cheeks and a dull heat flare down her spine to pool somewhere between her legs. She had to close her thighs together tightly and focus her attention on the meal before her. She couldn't look at him now even though she felt the heavy weight of his stare.

         "Twice? Three times?"

         "Four," Yayoi finished flatly. "I'd say three since the fourth time around..."

         An uncomfortable silence fell between them at the memory of the last time they had thought they could recapture the pleasure of enjoying each other's flesh. He had needed a body...anybody to satiate the frustration, anger and bitterness he had felt at the time and Yayoi had been the one person to do just that.

         But he hadn't been making love to her, and they both knew it.

         "I'll get the dessert," she said abruptly, rising to her feet to make her way towards the kitchen. JT made no attempt to stop her as he buried his face within his hands with a low groan. Perhaps he shouldn't have brought that part up but it was too late to take back his words. It had all been his fault. He had used her for his selfish means and she had been hurt deeply at that knowledge.

         It had been only a year with Aoe – a year of experiencing something both sinful and yet amazingly wonderful. For the first time in his life, JT was sure he was truly alive then. Life was fantastic and he had not wanted to change it for the world. However, reality had a cruel way of doing things to people and he had been no exception.

         He reached for his wine glass and gulped it thirstily as he listened to the woman he had loved as well move about in the kitchen behind him. It wasn't possible to love two people at one time, was it? No, it wasn't humanly possible. But like a naive fool, he thought he could juggle both of them in his life and it had turned around to bite him hard.

         "Here you go," the redhead said around a warm smile as she placed the plate of New York Style cheesecake before him. It was his favorite and for a moment a ghost of a smile flitted across his features as he picked up his fork to chew slowly.

         They ate in silence for a few minutes and the awkward tension they had felt earlier eased up a little. As Yayoi stole a quick glance at the man before her, she realized that she didn't really know all that much about JT. She knew he had come to the country as a boy of ten and had sought out his mother's family after weeks of living off leftover food from restaurants and working as a busboy to get some change.

         Almost a year later, the eleven-year old had finally found himself on the doorsteps of a house in the land of suburbia, which looked like a castle in his eyes. He couldn't believe his mother had come from such a background and yet had been willing to travel all the way to Okinawa to be with his father.

         Doctor and Mrs. Rockwell were a distinguished-looking couple who were in their late sixties. They were strict Christians and were upstanding members of society. The good doctor had a smaller building in his large compound which was sometimes used as a weekend clinic for non-life threatening ailments. He was actually the director of the prestigious Wellington Memorial Hospital in the upstate part of the city and he was considered the best surgeon the country had to offer.

         Mrs. Rockwell for her part; was happy to remain a housewife and sometimes nurse for her husband's clinic. She loved to entertain visitors and throw parties for the neighbors every once in a while. The house seemed to smell of freshly baked cookies and bread while the cheery patterns she used to decorate her home always made it feel warm and inviting.

         The Rockwells had three children. The oldest son, Richard, had been a member of the armed forces but died in combat during the war. Their second child and daughter, Amelia, was now living in another State with her husband and four children. Their last daughter was of course, Samantha – Jonathan's mother. She had become a volunteer for Amnesty International and it was during her many trips around the world that she met and fell in love with the dashing young Japanese fisherman from Okinawa. Of course, the decision to marry Seishiro had not been taken too well by the doctor and his wife and both had done their very best to keep their daughter to themselves. Unfortunately, Samantha had run away, never keeping in touch with her parents. It was an estrangement that had torn both sides to the very core of their souls and the couple had thought they would never recover from such a loss.

         One could only imagine their shock and surprise at seeing the handsome young man standing on their doorstep with the undeniable features of their own daughter. Bella Rockwell had considered it a blessing from God while David Rockwell decided to accept the boy on the condition that he was to work his tail off and become the best he could possibly be. This was all well and good for Jonathan and in less than five years, not only had he settled down well with his new family, he had graduated high school with the highest grade point average and accepted into Oxford University on a scholarship. He decided to major in Business and Communications and although David would have wished for the boy to get into medicine, he could not deny JT's natural business savvy.

         Jonathan had saved up his graduation pictures and decided to pay a visit to his family in Okinawa with the money he was beginning to make from his internship job at an investment company. However, the trip had turned out to be one of the lowest points of his life.

         Arriving in Okinawa was probably the worst mistake he could have possibly done. He went back to his home only to find the place in near ruins. Confused and worried, he had run to neighbors to find out what happened. His Japanese was still impeccable and through several quick interviews with them, he staggered back to his front porch to sob his young heart out in pity, sorrow and dull anger.

         His father's fishing business had suffered a severe blow. Most of his father's boats had been lost at sea due to a typhoon that had occurred a year ago. Most of the homes by the sea were washed away and it was even a miracle that their home hadn't been completely destroyed. His sisters were married off to get some form of money to cater to their needs and to make it worse, Samantha had become pregnant again. JT had known his mother to be frail and rather small in stature. He was the last child and he had assumed that his mother would not wish to give birth to another one after him. And yet...yet his damn father had gotten her pregnant again! She had been too weak to deal with the trauma of childbirth and one cold November morning, her bleeding corpse was found in the middle of the living room floor. She had gone into forced labor with no one's knowledge.

         Nobody knew of Seishiro's whereabouts. Many assumed he was dead or that he had fled the country. Others thought he had changed his identity and was living incognito in the main city. Whatever the case may be, JT realized that he did not have a family in these parts anymore. He doubted his sisters would want to be found and he had no plans to seek for a father who had abandoned his family in their time of need. He, however, did manage to find information about his oldest sister and under an anonymous identity; he opened up a savings account for the three women he was never to meet again.

___________


         "I got accepted into Randolph," he announced calmly as he licked off some cheesecake from his fork.

         Yayoi blinked in surprise. "What? You mean you actually sent in your application?"

         He nodded with a sheepish grin. "Yeah. I was surprised that they actually accepted me."

         She couldn't help laughing a little. "Don't be ridiculous. The great Jonathan Toriyama will be teaching a Business and Communications class; don't you think they'd jump at the opportunity to sink their claws into you?"

         He laughed at that and shook his head before pinning an intense gaze on her smiling features. "I want you to apply to become a teacher there."

         And just as calmly she replied. "No."

         "Why the hell not?" he exploded in bemusement. "You've got a fucking degree in Mathematics. You were given a scholarship and everything! You could be making tons more money in there than..."

         "I don't do well with kids," she interrupted with a shrug. "And besides, don't I need to go to teaching school or something?"

         "You don't have to go to a teaching school and if you're that worried, I think they have a special seminar for would-be-teachers," he finished with a light nod. "Come on, Yayoi. I know you'll be a great teacher there."

         "Hmph. You just want me there so you can find someone to talk to. Your social skills are still horrible, JT."

         He opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it up again as he realized that she was right. He might be the CEO of his own financial consulting company but he wasn't exactly Mister Congeniality. He just didn't have the time for idle chatter with anyone.

         "I'm sure your students will fill the void," she said around a yawn as she rose to her feet. Her hair was now dry and it had fluffed up to frame her beautiful visage like a soft red cloud. She walked up to stand before him with a warm smile, her hands reaching out to cup his face gently. "You'll make a fine teacher, Jonathan Toriyama and I'm sure that the students will look up to you and consider you their mentor."

         She could feel his cheeks grow hot against her palms and her smile became wistful as she began to caress his lower lip gently with a thumb. He closed his eyes and moaned softly, his lips parting to capture the wandering flesh into his mouth. He sucked on it hungrily as if she were just another part of the dessert that had not been tasted yet.

         The mound between her legs grew damp as her knees trembled at his ministrations. She groaned and closed her own eyes as she felt an arm wrap around her waist to pull her closer to his seated form. She rested her forehead against his and parted her thighs to allow his seeking hands into the bathrobe. She wore nothing underneath and he was quick to take advantage of that.

         "Ooh..." It was a breathless moan of need and growing desire as she felt his fingers tease the entrance to her sensitive flesh. "No..." She began to plead softly and then had to bite back a scream as he thrust two fingers deep into her warmth. "Oh, please...please stop...."

         But he refused to listen to her whimpered cries as he continued to plunge deeper and deeper into her tight heat. He sucked harder on her thumb, relishing in her hot breath upon his face as his own pants grew tight with the force of his growing erection. She was beginning to rock back and forth on his fingers, and as her knees finally gave way, she slid onto his lap and allowed her long hair to shroud them like a curtain. She clung feverishly to his strong shoulders, her hips thrusting harder and faster upon the fingers that were beginning to drive her insane.

         In the morning, she'd regret doing this with him. In the morning, they'd go their separate ways and pretend that nothing happened. In the morning, he'd be a different man – a teacher and she'd be left to wonder about her future. She had chosen to be a stripper. Just for fun, she had said. He had argued with her about her decision. He had been willing to pay her any amount she needed. She didn't need to show her body to the world. She had angrily bellowed back at him. What was it to him? What did he care if she showed her body to the world? He was in love with another man, wasn't he? He had no business being concerned about her at all!

         She could feel the undeniable coil of heat rise from her burning mound to the pit of her stomach to the hardened nipples that seemed to want to rip a hole right through the bathrobe. She tightened her grip on his shoulder, her mouth opening in a noiseless scream as she threw her head back in preparation for an orgasm that would send her off the face of the earth and into oblivion.

         You don't love me, JT, her mind screamed as her hips jerked once, twice, three times in succession. Her inner muscles clenched around the hard fingers and then...he touched her there and her world exploded into a million shards of light.

         But I still love you...more than you'd ever know.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------


*Note*Other sections are being worked on for NaNoWriMo and not posted here at this time.
© Copyright 2007 iKïyå§ama-House Targaryen (satet at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1326865-Bittersweet-Fyre