This is a request fic for cancercute, who asked me a long time ago to write this up for her. Sorry I didn't get started on it earlier.

Anyways, brief intro: Mimi's a model and Yamato's a famous photographer. After spending one hot night in sin, they completely forget about one another. That is, until Yamato is thrown into Mimi's life a second time, as her new main photographer.

Scandal, embarrassment, lust, seduction, and the tabloids begin to play very important roles in their lives.

Enjoy. (Ages and so forth will be given throughout the story. Side characters, such as Jyou, Izzy and so forth will be mentioned by will not have major roles like Sora and Taichi do).

Disclaimer: I'm a poor, therefore, I do not own Digimon nor do I receive anything of value (aside from your invaluable love and criticism) in writing this.

Warning: M rated for a reason. Possibly…a lemony first chapter?

Prologue

Being famous was murder. Fame, in itself, was something that either compelled one to perform acts of murderous intent or one to be murdered by scandal and horror. She considered the dreams of being famous to be the same thing as being suicidal. Any single individual who wanted to be famous had either a serious mental defect or a death wish.

She was still trying to figure out which one she had.

Fame, according to her, had to be the world's biggest oxymoron. Then again, she had to admit that she wasn't even sure if oxymoron was the correct word, she only finished high school education, but, in the end, she could care less. All she knew was that fame was a contradiction, or at least the consequences of infamy were exact opposites that either made or destroyed a person.

Fame was something that granted a person money, and that money would be able to buy the most luxurious of homes, the most discreet and quiet of lodges and spas, and would be able to get a person whatever the hell they wanted at the snap of their fingers. Fame, however, brought the exact opposite at the same time. The intrusion of one's privacy, the ceaseless bills to be paid for the over-priced mansions, the constant scandals and tabloids, and the destruction of one's health were all consequences of infamy.

As she sat at the bar, playing with her untouched drink, she went over the list of everyone she had witnessed crash and burn from fame.

With fame came a new lifestyle, one where temptations were everywhere. You thought that you were immune, that the police wouldn't care if you sped or crashed, that the alcohol would simply dissipate in your veins, and that the drugs were harmless. Most importantly, you began to feel that, because you were famous, you could never die young.

She'd been to more funerals that she had fingers and toes and over half of those funerals had been for people her age or younger.

­She had thought going to a funeral for a person her age was difficult, but she had found a funeral for someone younger to be far worse, especially when that person was ten years younger than her.

So now, mere days after the funeral had taken place, she sat at the club, holding the very drink that helped kill the woman who now lay six feet under.

Maybe she did have a death wish.

Looking up, staring around the club, she was grateful for the invention of make-up and hair dye. The washable black dye helped cover her naturally honey brown hair, and the make-up subtly hid the face that her eyes were slanted and almond shaped.

She looked almost like a plain, twenty-something American as opposed to the thirty-year-old Japanese model she really was.

She sighed softly, glancing around the club, wondering just what had brought her to this place. As it was a Friday night, it was jam packed, lights flashing, techno music blaring, and hundreds of bodies writhed sensually on the dance floor.

She constantly ignored the shouts and cries, tuned out the orders being passed from client to bartender as the panting bodies surrounded her, searching for drinks to ease the dryness of their throats.

Or to simply increase the alcohol content in their bloodstream and make things far more enjoyable.

She finally lifted her drink and took a small sip, watching, waiting for that one sign, the little signal that would tell just why she had come to a club when all she wanted to do was go home and think.

Her answer came in the form of a 6'3", blond-haired Adonis that strolled into the club surrounded by friends of all sorts.

Amber eyes looked the man up and down, eyeing the strong, masculine features of his face, noting that his strong jaw, kissable lips, straight nose, and strong cheekbones made him the perfect combination of strength and softness. The eyes were slanted, and she noted that many of his features bore a resemblance of someone with Japanese heritage or of Japanese descent.

Her eyes roamed over his body, noting the powerful shoulders, the lean stomach, and the powerful looking legs encased in black jeans. She wondered if he was composed of hard planes and muscles.

Maybe, she thought curiously, she had come here to get laid. Despite her infamy and the numerous male fans throwing themselves at her feet, she hadn't had sex in over a month and felt that she was long overdue for a night of hot, sweaty sex.

She could already feel the telltale signs of arousal race through her as she watched the man walk. He didn't walk, he seemed to prowl. His moves were fluid, graceful and powerful, and the way he commanded attention made it seem like he owned the very floor he stepped on.

She could care less, however, if he were a bar owner or a construction worker. He was hot and she felt her body being craving for his.

She watched the band of friends around him, eyeing every single female in the group, wondering just which one could be his lover. She watched him laugh, noted the way he got small dimples in his cheeks as he smiled, and she had to squeeze her legs shut as heat flooded through her system.

She watched him interact with the women, trying to find any sign that he could be intimately involved with any of the women.

Maybe today was her lucky day…

The women rushed off to the dance floor, three of them followed by their male counterparts. She noted that the Adonis stayed behind with the remaining male friends.

Now was her chance…

She left her drink behind and made her way over to him. She knew he was watching her, felt his eyes boring into her body as she moved seductively towards him. She knew he was eyeing her body, looking at her long legs, slender waist, chest, before finally glancing at her heart-shaped face. Licking her full lips, she returned his probing gaze with one of her eyes, trailing her eyes over his body as she paused just a foot away from him.

She was barely aware of the looks his friends were giving one another, barely listening to their words and ignoring the fact that they instantly backed off in response to the single glance the Adonis gave them.

She smiled up at him, noting that his eyes were a searing blue, the second indication that the man before her was of mixed descent.

But, really, she could care less at this moment…

All she wanted…

"Care to dance?"

Her body was slammed against the wall, chest heaving as she panted for air, sweat trailing down her body as her heart hammered against her ribs. She tore her lips from his, sucking in much needed air before urging his mouth down to hers again.

Their tongues battled for dominance while he fought back the haze of arousal long enough to find the key to the hotel room.

The door slammed open, their bodies tangled as they fought to get into the room without breaking their passionate embrace. His fingers dug into her hips, leg swinging out to slam the door shut, before he pushed her against the wall.

They weren't sure if the lights were on or not, they didn't even really know where the bed was, all that mattered to them was the feel of their bodies rubbing against one another.

Clothing was shredded and discarded, tossed to the ground and forgotten as they made their eventful journey towards the bed. Managing to find the bed, she fell down against the soft blankets, having only a moment to catch her breath before his hard body fell on hers.

She had been right; she realized as she traced her hands over his torso, his body was hard planes and muscle. He was composed of raw power and muscle that rippled with her every touch.

Moaning into his mouth, she bit on his tongue as his hands found and kneaded her sensitive breasts. Her nails dug into his back and she threw back her head in a loud cry when his lips replaced his hands.

His mouth was godsend, teasing and licking, nipping and biting, using every means possible to make her nipples even harder. She moaned with every lick, whimpered at each bite, and cried out when his fingers found her moist center.

Writhing beneath him, she raked her nails along his back, delighting in the primal sound of ecstasy he made. Digging her fingers into his shoulders, she tugged his mouth back to hers, reveling in the mixture of flavours that was him.

She couldn't get enough of his taste, the overwhelming flavour of alcohol, chocolate, and a third flavour that was uniquely him. Just like his scent, masculine cologne mixed with floral wash and something odd that she couldn't just place. She wasn't sure but she could care less. All that mattered right now was that his body was on hers.

He slid his fingers into her, bending and twisting them, making her moan into his mouth as her womb clenched in arousal. Her body arched up, hips moving against his hand as his fingers sensually tortured her.

She threw her head back and cried out as the first orgasm rolled over her, pulling her deep under, leaving her gasping for air and panting for more. His fingers probed deeper, rubbing the sensitive walls as they contracted around the digits. Snarling something incoherent, she urged his mouth back down to hers, gyrating her hips in hopes that he would get the idea.

Instead, his probing fingers brought her over the edge twice more, a smile playing on his lips as he watched her body writhe in sheer ecstasy. He wasn't sure what had compelled him to go with her and at the moment he could care less. She was beautiful and sexy, and she managed to arouse his senses in a way that no woman ever had in the past.

It was both alluring and frightening.

Sliding his fingers out of her, he watched her eyes darken as he licked them, growling at the sweet flavour of her juices. He felt her body jerk beneath his, knew that he had, in the simple action of licking his fingers clean, almost brought her to another orgasm.

His laughter was dark and sensual, a seductive call in the shadows of the room, and she found her hands trailing down his chest, reaching for the one thing she had been wanting to touch all night.

He was hot, hard, and ready.

Gripping him tightly in her hand, she moved her fingers, just using a hint of nail to force a growl past his lips. She reveled in the feel of his velvet hardness, finding it amazing that something could be so hard and so soft at the same time.

Rubbing her thumb over the tip, she was still pleasantly pleased that he was circumcised and a lot larger than she had originally anticipated.

He bruised her mouth in a searing kiss, tongue gaining dominance over hers before taking her bottom lip and sucking on it. In retaliation, she trailed her nail gently down the center of his shaft, causing him to throw back his head and curse in pleasure.

"I want you to fuck me," she moaned as his lips returned to her breasts. "Please…I can't wait any longer."

To further prove her point, she wrapped her legs around his hips, using her legs and hand to bring him closer to her aching core. He, however, stiffened, making it difficult for her to bring him any closer to her.

"Protection," he gasped out, leaning down to nuzzle her throat with feather light kisses and nips.

"The pill," she replied, running her free hand through his hair, "been on it for years."

"You're clean?" She what he meant and knew that he hadn't wanted to use the actual words for fear of destroying the intimacy and sensuality of the situation.

"Yes."

That one word was all he needed to hear.

She let out a small scream as he slammed his hips forward, piercing her body, thrusting deep inside of her as her muscles fought to accommodate him. He wanted to move, needed to move, but feared hurting her. She was so tight, so deliciously hot, wet and tight around his cock.

He wondered…

"You're not…?" He let the question hang in the air.

Dark, sultry laughter bubbled out from her lips and she pulled his mouth down to hers. "It's been a while and you're so," she squeezed her muscles around his cock, "big."

Groaning against her mouth, the simple contraction was all he needed to urge him to continue.

Rearing back, he slammed his hips hard against hers as hers surged up to meet his in an ancient dance of seduction and sensuality. Her nails scored his back as his lips latched onto her throat, bruising and biting her flesh as she let out crying moans.

His hips slammed harder, movements increasing in speed and strength as she careened over the edge and into another orgasm. She was letting out little screams now, biting down on his neck, shoulder, and lips, suckling and nipping the flesh as he surged forward and pushed her closer to yet another orgasm.

They became a writhing mass, sweat soaked, tangled bodies that moved and undulated, both fighting to find their ultimate, powerful release. Their hearts hammered, lips opened to pant and moan, and their hands roamed, touching, feeling, caressing and scraping as their movements increased and became more erratic.

He lunged forward, shoving her legs over his shoulders as he pounded in her, shoving himself deeper and harder as she screamed beneath him.

She felt another wave coming and latched on, crying out as she was pulled into a powerful orgasm that overshadowed the others. Her muscles contracted, squeezing him rhythmically in such way, with such power, that he moved his hips twice more before filling her with his seed.

His body collapsed on hers, chest heaving, eyes shut as they panted and fought for air. When he could, when he regained some feeling in his body, he managed to reverse their position, cradling her gently against his chest like a lover would after a night of lovemaking.

The only difference was that they weren't lovers and they hadn't made love, they had had sex. Pure, carnal, animalistic sex.

She knew she should get up, gather her clothes, and leave, or that she should say something witty to make the occasion even more memorable. But she found it hard to pry her eyes open and let the exhaustion of the past week roll over her. Consumed by it, feeling weak and sated by the sex, and simply enjoying the feel of being in his arms, she kept her eyes shut and drifted off to sleep.

She'd left in a rush, he noted the next morning when he woke alone. He knew that he would wake up alone, knew that the woman he'd been with would want to avoid any intimate conversation the morning after. She'd just wanted sex, hot and passionate sex, and nothing else.

Still, he smiled; she'd left a note and informed him that she had paid for the hotel room. Also, he noticed that she had left two articles of clothing on the floor, a plain, white sock, and a lovely violet thong.

Gathering his clothes from the floor, dressing and shoving her forgotten articles into his pocket, he searched to ensure that he had not forgotten anything.

He picked up the note, grateful that she had been kind enough to leave a note, and reread it before shoving it, too, into his pocket.

Turning, he glanced once more towards the bed, the site of their passionate sex, before making his way out to the door. Halfway to the door, he burst into laughter.

Damn woman, she never told him her name.

Still laughing, he shut the door and walked away. It didn't matter, he realized, it's not like he was going to see her again anytime soon.

There we go. The hot and sexy prologue is done. I know you (cancercute) originally asked for them to make-out or something, but I felt that sex would make their relationship a bit more … volatile and intimate. She would also be more prone to a scandal, which the tabloids love.

So, I hope that you have enjoyed it. Please give any and all feedback, correct any mistakes I've made, and please, if you have constructive criticism to say, say it!

I would prefer it if you did have constructive criticism to keep it far from insulting and try to use clean, proper, and polite language.

If you want to flame, I will simply pull out the marshmallows, chocolate and graham crackers and make everyone else s'mores.

Depending on the turn out from this chapter, I will decided if I wish to keep my usual rule set up (3 reviews next chapter).

Please, if you read it and enjoyed it, review. I can't go by hits (someone can click on it, look for two seconds, and then exit and it'll be considered a hit). So please review. Thanks.

Ja ne!