THE TOKYO CITY view on the fifty-second floor of Mori Tower showcases Tokyo at night to its best advantage—a sea of colourful lights laid out like a carpet of stars, with the glowing Tokyo Tower in the foreground. The Business Awards dinner is in full swing. Our delicious main course has been cleared away and the dancing has begun before speeches and dessert.
I wish I could leave and drag Monroe with me.
‘Mr Oshima lives near Mount Fuji,’ I say, introducing her to a long-time business associate who runs a manufacturing company here in Tokyo. ‘His home is beautiful, and he has three charming little girls who cheat at paper, scissors, rock.’
Monroe laughs with delight and engages Mr Oshima in a three-way conversation with the interpreter I hired to make her feel comfortable tonight. My mind drifts once more to this morning, when she’d stormed into my office looking like a goddess of temptation. I’ve spent the whole day reeling. And fuming at the way I shut down after, effectively dismissing her.
I paste on a bland smile, pretending to partake in the conversation, but inside I’m cursing my stupidity. I should never have taken her home. Waking up with her in my bed, her scent on my pillow and her clothes on my chair... It all but knocked me on my arse. This is what it would feel like to have someone permanent in my life. Her toothbrush next to mine, her brand of tea in my cupboard and a million other ways of sharing a life. Even opening up about Blackhearts seemed to shift something in me—a new closeness I wasn’t expecting.
For the first time ever, what if? crept past my guard.
I fled to work before dawn to escape the crush of possibility. Only she’s everywhere I look—my office, my car, my home. I struggled to breathe this morning after her trench coat stunt, not because I’d come harder than a baseball bat to the back of the head, but because I never wanted to move. She gripped my face and stared into my eyes and seemed to give me more of herself than I’d ever ask for. Violent urges to close the office and ignore work for the rest of the day overtook me. I wanted to take Monroe back home and lock out the rest of the world. Cancel our flight to London and slake this need over and over again until I was back to normal.
But what if normal has gone for ever? What if I can never stop craving her?
Watching her smile as she asks Mr Oshima about his family, I’m compelled to make amends for my dismissive behaviour. I ache to touch her. Hold her. I wake in the night hard for her. I reach for her in my sleep. I look for her around the office. She’s in my blood and I’m so fucked.
The conversation comes to a natural end, and Mr Oshima bids us goodnight and moves away. I speak to the translator, suggesting she take a break.
‘Dance with me,’ I say to Monroe.
‘I’d love to.’ She looks up at me with trust and acceptance I don’t deserve. It makes me more restless.
We move to the dance floor, my hand unapologetically on the small of her back, because I can’t not touch her. She’s wearing a full-length black dress that hugs her beautiful body like a second skin. I tug her into my arms, holding her at an appropriate distance for a business colleague, even though I want to crush her close until my heart stops its wild, erratic thudding.
Monroe is more than a colleague. She always has been. But what the hell does that mean for the future us? I’ll have to stop thinking about her, stop touching her, stop wanting her.
‘I’m sorry if I was...abrupt this morning in the office.’ I grip her tighter, needing her body against mine to stop the riot of frustration inside. ‘To be honest, you took me by complete surprise with the whole trench coat thing.’
My cock stirs in my trousers just thinking about the vision of her splayed on my desk. ‘I won’t ever forget that sexy little stunt, Dove.’
In fact, I’ll never be able to work again without remembering. My fingers flex between her shoulder blades, itching to touch her bare skin.
Her eyes spark playfully. ‘Me neither. It was fun payback.’
She’s saying all the right things to reassure me that we’re still on track. That there’s no risk of feelings creeping into this casual fling. But if anything that makes me more unsettled. It makes no sense.
‘Are you nervous?’ she asks. ‘About your speech?’
I shake my head. ‘No. I’m not thinking about that at all. I’m actually wondering if you’re wearing underwear under this dress.’ It’s easier to admit the constant desire than risk showing too much of the panicked, confused mess inside me. Monroe has her mother’s knack of seeing beneath my layers.
A small crafty smile touches her full lips. She slides her hand slowly from my shoulder to rest over my breast pocket. Over my thudding heart.
‘Now, what makes you think I’d be commando under here?’ Her eyelashes bat and she swipes the tip of her tongue over her top lip so my hard-on presses against her stomach. Shit, I’m due onstage in fifteen minutes.
I glance at her hand, at her fingers gliding back and forth over my silk handkerchief in my tux pocket. That’s when I notice the handkerchief isn’t its usual white colour. It’s silvery grey. I catch sight of some lace in the depths of the pocket.
When I look up, she’s all mock-innocence. It’s sexy as hell.
‘What is it?’ she asks, her voice breathy.
‘Did you stuff your underwear in my pocket?’ I grow harder. We’ll never make it off this dance floor. I’ll have to fake a medical emergency to avoid my speech. Then I remember that I came here straight from the office. They gave me a room in which to change. I can exact revenge...
‘Now, why would I do that when you’ll be standing on the stage in front of Tokyo’s business elite? Do you think I want you to be thinking about me or something...?’ She leans closer. ‘It’s not as if I’ll be wet watching you, waiting for you to finish and take me home...’
I groan in my head and grip her tighter. ‘Oh, well played, Dove. Trouble is... I’m going to make you pay, sooner than you think.’
‘Just like I made you pay for the phallic package I opened in the conference room?’
I nod. ‘Just like that.’
‘I can’t wait.’ She stares up at me, her beautiful smile tugging at something in my chest. Every beat of my heart demands I say something more meaningful than sex talk and innuendo. But what is there to say? I can’t promise her anything more than this. She’s seen every corner of my life now. She knows about my past. Bold is my future. With me, this is as good as it gets.
I change the subject, wishing I could change my thoughts as easily.
‘I arranged for a tea ceremony at the Sensō-ji Temple tomorrow.’
‘Thank you. That’s a lovely thing to do on my last day in Japan.’
‘But it won’t be your last visit. You’ll be back next year.’ Tension seizes my muscles. How will we manage seeing each other in person but no longer being lovers? Will the desire fade even remotely?
I wish...
‘Besides, you may love Japan, but you’d never consider living anywhere but London.’ What prompted me to say that? Why am I fishing? Of course she’d never live away from her close-knit family.
She presses her lips together, her eyes darting sheepishly as if she’s thinking the same thing. When she looks back up, she’s grown pensive.
‘Sterling once asked me to move to New York, before we met you. Before we married. Just for a few years. I wouldn’t even consider it back then.’
‘You didn’t want to move so far from your relatives.’ My voice is flat with assertion. She wouldn’t even move for the man she loved.
‘No. And I’m glad I didn’t.’ She looks up, imploring me to understand. ‘I couldn’t have known, but my mother didn’t really have that long to live. I’d have never forgiven myself if I hadn’t been there.’
‘Of course.’ I nod, a strange weight settling in my gut. Why does it matter to me that she’d never live anywhere but London?
I scramble for another change of subject.
‘I wondered if you’d like to visit Blackhearts on the way home from the Sensō-ji Temple tomorrow. There’s a teen disco happening.’ My voice feels alien, my heartbeat throbbing in my ears. Until just now I hadn’t even decided if I planned to attend myself.
‘I’d love to.’ She looks up at me with that intuition and perceptiveness that makes me feel exposed. ‘I never realised how important they are to you...’
I try not to stiffen, my hairs rising with discomfort. ‘Why would you?’
‘Because we’re...friends.’ Her expression says isn’t it obvious? ‘Friends are supposed to know each other well. Be there for the other person unconditionally.’ She looks away and, when her eyes return to mine, they’re ablaze with emotion. ‘I’m sorry if there were times that I wasn’t there for you. I meant to be. You’ve always supported me.’
I presume she’s talking about the divorce, or perhaps the flowers I send every year for Cathy. I frown, a trapped feeling settling in my gut. How have we arrived here when only minutes ago we were discussing her underwear in my pocket? This shit doesn’t come up when you’re an emotional island. Yet, as alien as it is for me to open up, I’ve also enjoyed getting to know Monroe better, one on one.
‘You haven’t let me down, Dove. I’ve just never needed you in the same way.’
Her tiny gasp makes me feel as if I’ve struck her. I rush to qualify. ‘I don’t mean it as an insult. I just haven’t got any family like you do.’
She still looks hurt. ‘Sterling and I are your family. Even though we live on different continents, we’re not going anywhere.’
I cringe at her reassurance. ‘I’m not an easy friend to have. I’ve spent most of my life completely self-sufficient.’
I want her to know the way I am isn’t personal. It’s survival.
‘Mr Oshima seems to value your friendship. He told me how you’ve managed to tend that bonsai tree he gave you, the one at your apartment. I think you’re just selective with who you trust emotionally. Most people are.’
I nod because she’s right—I only really trust myself. ‘It’s something I’m wary of with Blackhearts. I try not to get too attached to any of the kids or allow them to get close to me—their circumstances change often. Some get adopted, some move to a foster home in a different area... That’s why I lurk in the background.’
Compassion shines in her eyes. ‘Well, in that case, perhaps I won’t come. I don’t want to confuse anyone. But I really appreciate you asking me.’
We dance on in silence until she speaks again. ‘I too have an invitation. Would you come to Mum’s memorial?’
My feet shuffle to a stop, the flight mechanism ransacking my nervous system. ‘But that’s private. A family thing.’ I always stick out like a sore thumb at those kinds of gatherings.
She frowns and hurt flashes over her features. ‘It’s a party. It’s not sad or anything. If the weather’s nice we hold it in the garden. Lots of food and drink and music. The grandkids running around and jumping in the pool...’
At my continued hesitation, she trails off.
Then she lifts her chin. ‘Sterling will be there.’
The reminder of the other man who’s been in her life smacks me in the head. But, unlike him, I’m a grown man who needs convincing to go to a party to remember Cathy.
‘That’s different. He used to be part of the family. You were married to him.’ Why am I talking about another man while her underwear is in my pocket and I ache to bury myself inside her?
‘So? You’re part of my family too. I’m not having you sitting alone in a hotel somewhere while we socialise. I want you there.’ Her tone softens. ‘Just...think about it. Please.’
My hesitance feels like a fight for life, but of course I’m overreacting. Still, I can’t give her any reassurance when I feel so strung out. ‘Okay, I will. I’d better go. It’s almost time for my speech. Do you want me to escort you back to our table?’
She steps away from me and shakes her head. ‘I’ll be fine, thank you.’ She squeezes my arm. ‘Good luck.’
Before she walks away, I snag her hand and lean in to whisper, ‘Meet me backstage after. Payback time.’
I walk away, mildly gratified I could put excitement back into her eyes, even though our conversation has left me more dismantled than ever. I’m not Sterling. I’m no good at the kind of emotional commitment it takes to form a relationship. I’ll let her down and she’ll see the gaping differences between us even more clearly.
My memorised speech is brief. After an introduction in my stilted Japanese, I switch to English, knowing the event organisers have pre-translated my talk and are projecting it on screens to the audience. I’m not given to sentiment, so as I talk about my humble beginnings, hinting at my unorthodox start in life and the luck and drive of my early success, I focus on the thought of Monroe’s underwear in my pocket. It works as she intended and in ways she couldn’t have guessed—a distraction from the chill of my childhood memories and how they still shape my relationships today.
The silk and lace burn a hole in my pocket. I glance out at the crowd. Speaking at the prestigious awards ceremony is an indication of how far I’ve come. Of the power I now wield over my own destiny, and that of others through Bold.
And yet tonight I feel jaded.
It’s Monroe—what she brings out in me.
After London, we’ll go back to seeing each other a couple of times a year. Will my work be enough of a consolation? It hits me then, so I stumble over my words. Embarking on our affair has changed things, perhaps for ever.
But it’s not too late to redress the boundaries. That’s what I need to chase off the feeling I’m going around in circles. I shove Monroe from my mind and shift closer to the microphone to deliver my closing points.
‘People often ask me for my business philosophy. It’s simple. Distilled into three key principles. One, work as if you are the only person you can rely on.’
I find Monroe’s eyes in the audience, the predictable desire shooting along my every nerve. Her words bombard my brain. You’re part of my family too.
I’m not. Not really. And I can’t get lured into her seductive web. I can’t need her or anyone else. I know how that weakness ends—with me alone again.
I swallow hard with resolve and continue. ‘Two, apply integrity to all of your business dealings and with everyone you meet—you never know when they’ll be your greatest professional ally.’
Sterling and I are your family... We’re not going anywhere.
An easy promise to make. But, if Sterling knew about us, he’d understandably feel betrayed and hurt. Who knows how he’d react? Possessive heat roars through my blood. If the positions were reversed, if Monroe had once been mine, I’d struggle to stay civil and carry on as if nothing happened.
Focussing on my final point reminds me where my priorities must lie. Where they’ve always been. ‘And, lastly, accept that you can never be too successful.’
I smile, accepting my round of applause, and stride from the stage. Monroe burrowing under my skin is an itch I need to fight. The panties in my pocket help, a clear reminder of our seduction match and how currently she’s in the lead.
But I can change that.
Monroe is waiting for me backstage. After a smile and a few words of thanks for my hosts, I grip her elbow and guide her away from the ballroom, leading her to the room set aside for me to change. I need to get her alone, to remind us both how good the sex is so we forget about everything else—our connection, how spending time together makes me crave the unattainable and how I might never feel normal again.
‘You were great,’ she says, her voice breathy as she keeps pace with me in her heels. ‘I’m always impressed by your Japanese.’ Her mouth is saying things that shouldn’t cause offence, but her body language is prickly. I’ve offended her somehow. But I can make it right. I know what her body needs to sing. I’ll distract her with pleasure. Distract us both, because right now my desperation for mindless oblivion seems to have outstripped hers.
I key in the lock code and push inside the room.
‘Tell me how I’ve managed to upset you.’ I take the scrap of lacy underwear from my pocket, remove my tux jacket and tie, and toss them onto the chair. ‘But tell me quickly.’
She stops near the door, arousal staining her throat and cheeks, her nipples peaking through the fabric of her dress and her breath coming in excited pants, even as her eyes spark with defiance.
‘I’m not upset. Just surprised that you managed to talk about your business success without once mentioning your long-term partners.’
I fist the panties and curse under my breath. It wasn’t intentional.
‘Forgive me, Dove. An oversight, I assure you. I’m used to thinking and talking about myself. The organisers wanted me to keep it short and focussed on my guiding business ethos. I didn’t want to speak for you and Sterling.’ I lock eyes with her. ‘I’m fully aware of how you’ve enriched my life these past five years. Bold is what it is because we’re a team.’
‘Are we?’ She’s still battling disappointment. Not the emotion I want. ‘Your speech made me wonder how you truly see us. Perhaps we’re disposable to you, superfluous to your requirements. As if you could cut us loose and work a bit harder—eighteen hours a day instead of fourteen—and achieve the same things alone.’
I take a step in her direction, as drawn to her as ever. ‘If you were disposable, I wouldn’t have spent my entire speech thinking about you sitting in the audience without these.’ I dangle the lace from one finger as I prowl close. I catch the scent of her from the fabric and need rumbles in my groin. ‘How could I ever forget you, Dove?’
I wish it were that simple. I wish I could scrub her from my mind and move on as if this week never happened.
‘Be honest.’ I crowd her personal space, every cell screaming to drag her close and slake all of this pent-up turmoil. ‘Do you feel neglected professionally or personally? Because I want to make it up to you.’
She takes a step back until she’s flush against the door, her stare hooded and her lips parted, almost in invitation.
I rein in my most urgent needs. ‘I want you. Now.’ I wanted her the minute she fastened her trench coat this morning. Her stunning eyes carry the same hurt I saw then. ‘Are you too disappointed with me to let me touch you?’
Silence buffets us, the air pulsing. She shakes her head, her pupils flaring.
I stifle my growl of triumph. ‘Then show me what I want to see.’ I raise one eyebrow and wait, the underwear still dangling from my finger. This is where my focus needs to remain. On this crushing desire. Not the past or the future. Just now.
With agonising slowness, she bunches the silky fabric of her dress in her fists and raises the hem. Her legs, covered in her trademark black stockings, are revealed to me inch by glorious inch. Shapely calves, slender thighs, the tantalising lace tops of the stockings.
And then her nakedness.
I drag my eyes away from the gorgeous view. ‘You play a very dirty game to win.’
‘So do you.’ She pants, her lip trembling.
‘That’s why we’re so good together.’ I cover her hands with mine, gripping the dress so it doesn’t fall. I press my body to hers and she tilts her chin, straining for my kiss.
It takes everything I am to withhold my mouth. But I want her forgiveness. I want her in no doubt of what she’s come to mean to me—the most important person in my life.
‘Seducing you, fucking you, has nothing to do with Bold, understand?’ I kiss her, rubbing my lips over hers, my tongue surging inside. Then I slide my mouth to her neck and feel her shudder under me when I locate the correct sensitive spot. ‘Bold is the three of us. A team—I never want that to change.’
I’d be nothing without Bold.
She thrusts her hips forward and I take pity on her, grinding my hard cock between her legs. She’s wet. I can feel her through my clothes. I hoist the dress higher until it reaches her waist. ‘Hold it here.’
I kiss her once more. Her head falls back against the door. Then I drop to my knees and spread her thighs open. I don’t want to drag my eyes away from the sight of her pink and wet for me, but I look up as I trace my finger over her strip of hair to her clit. ‘You torture me. Night and day. There’s no reprieve.’
It’s agony and bliss.
She gasps, her face streaked with pleasure, her breaths quick. ‘Hudson... Don’t tease me.’
I push my finger inside her. ‘Why not? You drive me crazy... You’re too good at our game. A little revenge is well-deserved, don’t you think?’
I pump my finger in and out, watching it disappear and reappear covered in her wetness. ‘Tell me I drive you insane.’
She drops her head forward so she too can watch. ‘You do... I ache for you.’
I look up, yearning stealing my breath. ‘Tell me we’ll handle this chemistry somehow. That we’ll never let it disrupt the company we both care about so much.’ I add my thumb, pressing it to her clit. Her word is vital. I need it almost as much as I need her.
She nods, her eyes desperate. ‘Yes... I promise.’
When I have what I want, I deliver her reward and mine. I cover her swollen clit with my mouth and push a second finger inside her. She bucks against me, writhing and gasping. I know she wants to grab my face, to tangle her fingers in my hair, but if she lets go of the dress she’ll lose her view.
I watch pleasure turn her from a sophisticated professional to a wild and demanding woman. A kick of satisfaction ramps up, my own desire past boiling point. We might have strayed towards personal emotions, but we’re still both focussed on this uncontainable compulsion.
Bunching the dress in one hand, Monroe grips the back of my neck with the other and holds me close—not that I’m going anywhere. She rides my mouth, one, two, three grinds of her hips, and then she shatters, coming with her eyes locked to mine and her core squeezing my fingers.
I stand, flip her round to face the door and tear into my fly. I cover myself with a condom and grab her hips, dragging her back so I can bury myself in her from behind.
I thrust into her, channelling all the out of control emotions this woman makes me feel. ‘You’re the only woman in my life, understand?’
‘Yes!’ she cries, almost accusingly.
‘I don’t want that to change. I don’t want anything to change.’ I pound harder and she meets me, her arms braced against the door.
My fingers dig into her hip and I slip my other hand between her thighs, rubbing her clit so that, when I come she follows me, the battle lines of this insane connection fully reinstated.