Hi hello. Yes, it is me. Yes, I changed my name a bit. No, I did not expect to not post anything for almost a year. Sorry?! Anyway! Here is my newest story. It will feature a sex scene in every chapter (possibly minus one or two) so if that's not your thing, you probably want to skip this one. For those of you who do like lemons, please enjoy!

Mamoru Chiba considered himself a reasonable person. He was, after all, a well-respected virologist, an active member of several reputable medical organizations, and on the board of one of the most influential children's medical charities in Japan. He was someone who, above all, took pride in his ability to look at situations rationally.

Analytically.

Calmly.

He was chairman of his condo building management association, for fuck's sake!

So why was it that just being in the presence of his old nemesis was all it took to override all of that and set a completely irrational flame of loathing alight in his gut?

"Usagi," Reika was saying as she opened Mamoru's front door to let her in, "I was worried you weren't going to make it!"

Ten years. That's how long it had been since Usagi Tsukino had come crashing into his life, assaulting him with shoes and wads of paper and food and her taunting insults. Something about her flipped a switch in him, turning him from his normally rational adult self into a petty, angry child.

But the years had passed and with it came a change to the old routine and a parting of ways. It had been four blissful years since he'd last seen her—at Motoki and Reika's wedding, fittingly enough. Her date had gotten spectacularly wasted at the reception and, as best man, it fell to Mamoru to try to deal with the situation as best he could at Reika's parents' request. He'd tried not to make a scene, but Usagi wasn't having it. They wound up toe to toe in a spectacular shouting match in the middle of the dance floor—her friend Minako cackling from the sidelines as Usagi's date ran off to vomit in some dark corner—making an even bigger scene than the one he was trying to prevent.

Damn Reika . . . if he had known it was Usagi they were waiting for . . . Ugh. He ran a hand over his face in frustration. That explained why Reika had been so coy about telling him who was coming over as they waited, and waited, and waited . . .

"Reika, I'm soooooo sorry the party ran so late!"

She had been blowing them off for a party? Of course. Still as immature as ever—as if he had any doubt.

The women were thankfully still hidden in his entryway, giving him time to school his features. Just the sound of her shrill, infantile voice was enough to set him on edge.

He could hear them chattering, getting closer to the living room where he had been enjoying his second glass of wine. Now he'd need it just to suffer through the rest of the meeting.

He stood as Reika reappeared, Usagi trailing behind her.

"You remember Usagi . . . right, Mamoru?" Reika asked, the smile on her face a little too forced. She moved, allowing Usagi to step from behind her.

To his surprise, she was looking rather attractive in a professional-looking dress, her super-long, ever-enticing hair woven into a sleek braid, which she had pulled to the front and trailed down her left side all the way past her hip.

Wait. Enticing?

Shit.

He shook himself mentally.

Freakish, more like.

Repulsive.

No. Nothing about Usagi should ever be described as enticing, especially not the silky, shiny hair of hers that had featured in more than one incredibly confusing X-rated dream in his college years . . .

"Mamoru," the object of his ire said with a polite incline of her head. "It's nice to see you again."

His eyes narrowed a fraction. "Likewise," he said, throwing her lie back at her.

Reika clasped her hands, the overly bright smile still in full force. "Well? Shall we sit and chat?"

Mamoru nodded, resuming his seat in his favorite chair while the women took the sofa. He picked up his wine glass, pointedly avoiding looking at Usagi while he took a large gulp of wine.

"Would you like some cabernet, Usagi?" Reika asked, pointing to the bottle of wine and empty wine glass on the coffee table. "I would be drinking, but y'know . . ."

"You have a baby at home, right," Usagi supplied. "Sure, why not?"

Mamoru couldn't help watching as she gave herself an extremely generous pour—draining nearly half the bottle into her glass and filling it to the brim.

"Oops, haha . . . um, cheers," she giggled, bending over the table to sip from the top of the full glass rather than risk picking it up. She managed to suck up an impressive amount of wine before plopping back on the couch beside Reika, wine glass in hand.

"So!" Reika said, clapping her hands. "Motoki's surprise birthday party."

"Yes!" Usagi cheered, bouncing a little in her seat. Mamoru shut his eyes and took a calming breath, praying that she didn't spill wine all over his Italian leather upholstery.

"First," Reika began, "I'm so grateful that both of you have agreed to plan this event together."

Mamoru suppressed a snort. It had been easy enough to agree to before he knew it was Usagi who was involved.

Reika continued, "As you both know, we have just under two months to plan a huge blowout party at Crown."

"Motoki's big 3-0!" Usagi giggled. "It's going to be awesome, Reika!"

Reika smiled indulgently at Usagi. "Usagi, you are my party girl extraordinaire."

Usagi wiggled happily in her seat.

"And Mamoru," Reika said, turning to him, "I can't thank you enough for offering to cover the expenses."

Mamoru nodded in acknowledgment. "What are best friends for?"

"With you two working together, I just know this is going to be an unforgettable party."

"I'm sure it will be amazing, Reika," Usagi said, pulling a notebook decorated with pink hearts and gray kittens from her oversized purse. "I already have so many ideas!"

As she opened the notebook, Reika's phone began to buzz.

"Shoot . . ." she said, checking her phone, "it's Unazuki again—she agreed to watch Hikari while I was here, but I promised her I'd only be an hour and . . ."

Usagi's face fell. "I was an hour late . . . I'm soooo sorry!"

"I'm not really sure when I'll be able to slip away again . . ." Reika frowned, biting her bottom lip.

Mamoru sighed inwardly, then finished the rest of his wine in one big gulp. It burned a little going down . . . fucking tannins. He set the glass down, then rose from his seat. "It's no problem, Reika. I'm sure Usagi and I can manage on our own."

Reika looked at him doubtfully. "Just the two of you? Like, alone?"

"We are adults, Reika. We can find a way to work together."

"Really?" Reika said, the concern in her voice laced with hope. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's no problem, Reika!" Usagi jumped in. "We've totally got this."

After more reassurances and promises to keep her in the loop and not maim or kill each other, Reika was off, disappearing out the door with a wave.

Mamoru stared at the closed door for several seconds, keeping his face carefully blank as he turned back to Usagi. So far the evening had been a ceasefire, but now that their white flag had left, he had no idea what to expect.

She stood in his living room, holding her glass of wine while she glanced around at his minimalist decor. In her little outfit, her hair and makeup done, he could acknowledge that some men, though certainly not ones named Mamoru Chiba, might find her attractive. He wondered fleetingly if she'd made an effort to look nice, knowing that she was meeting him. If he didn't already know that venom lurked beneath her surface he'd almost describe the pout of her lips and way her hips swayed as she surveyed the room as . . . alluring.

Almost.

"So . . . this is where you live, huh?"

Mamoru remained silent as he stepped into the living room.

"It's kinda . . . I don't know. Clinical." She scrunched her nose. "Cold." She turned to look him in the eye, swirling the wine in her glass. "Like you, I suppose."

And with that, the ceasefire had ended.

"And where do you live?" he asked. "A McDonald's PlayPlace?"

"That sounds awesome, but no. I share a very cute apartment with Minako. Not like . . . this monochrome bachelor pad for sad old men," she said as she waved her free hand dismissively at his cream-and-black living room.

He scowled.

"Has a woman even been in here before? Or"—she paused, dramatically bringing her hand to her mouth in a fake gasp—"are Reika and I the first?"

Mamoru briefly tried to remember the last time a woman had spent any time in his home . . . Damn, it had been a while. Cheeks pink, he protested, "Right, like my love life is any of your business, Odango."

She blinked rapidly, then guffawed. "Oh my god, please tell me we really aren't the first women—"

"Of course not," he sneered. "Now, if you're done drinking my wine, kindly get out before you spill it all over my hand-tufted carpet."

She stared at him, her brows drawn in confusion. "But we haven't even talked about the party yet!"

He laughed. "The party? Please. I'm more than capable of planning it on my own. You can just show up and take half the credit. We don't have to see each other, and you still get the glory. It's a win-win!"

"Yeah right," she said, sitting back down on the couch and placing her wine on a nearby table. "And let you plan the most boring old-man party in existence? A thrilling evening of dominoes and penuckle? Prune juice and Metamucil cocktails, perhaps?"

"Let me remind you that I'm two years younger than Motoki," he said through clenched teeth.

"Well maybe you should enjoy your youth for once and stop acting like you're already over the hill like you've been doing since you were a teenager," she said as she picked her notebook back up and started flipping through it. "Anyway, I've already done some brainstorming and I think—"

"Usagi," he interrupted, "get out."

She turned to look at him, still standing near the entrance of the living room, one hand pointed toward the front door.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Not until we talk about the party like we promised."

"I am telling you I will take care of it."

She stood and strode toward him, drawing herself as tall as she could, even though she barely reached his shoulders.

"I will not break Reika's trust. And if anything, I can plan the party on my own and you can just . . . reimburse me for the expenses."

Mamoru rolled his eyes. "You want me to write you a blank check for a half-eaten cake? I don't think so."

For the first time all evening, a look of true anger flashed across Usagi's eyes. "You really think that little of me? You think I'm out to scam you?"

"I have no reason to think otherwise. If you fail, everyone will blame me anyway for not babysitting you properly. In my estimation, the best way to not let Motoki down is to get you out of the picture as soon as possible."

"I'm not risking my reputation because of your ego."

"You mean your precious reputation as a 'party girl,'" he said mockingly with air quotes, "as Reika put it?"

She stepped forward, causing him lean back into the wall as she invaded his personal space. "You don't have a clue, do you? This is my job."

"Oh really? Partying is your job?"

"Yes, Baka! I'm a professional party planner. Something you would have learned a while ago if you'd bothered to show up to Reika's baby shower or Hikari's first birthday party—both of which I planned to rave reviews."

"I had other obligations," he protested, but the excuse felt lame even though it was true—a charity gala kept him from the shower, and work obligations from the little girl's birthday. It was one of the reasons he had so readily agreed to Reika's request to help plan Motoki's birthday in the first place. "And so what? It's not like planning a party is difficult—especially not if you can do it."

Her lip twisted in anger. "You're such an ass. All these years, and still just as arrogant as ever."

"And what about you?" he countered, leaning forward to take back his personal space, so close that he could smell the oh-so-Usagi scent of vanilla and strawberries wafting from her hair. "Still just as irresponsible as ever. You demand that I trust you, yet you strolled in here an hour late—"

"I was working!"

"—insulted me the moment Reika was out the door—" he plowed on, raising his voice to talk over her.

"Like you weren't waiting to do the same!"

"—in my own home—"

"As if you haven't insulted me in front of my own friends!"

"—refused to leave when I asked you to multiple times—"

"I! Promised! Reika!" she screamed in his face, finally cutting him off. "You are so fucking frustrating!"

"The feeling's mutual!" he yelled back.

For a moment they stood silently toe to toe, both breathing hard from their shouting match, their gaping mouths mere inches apart, breaths deep and furious.

. . . in, out, in, out . . .

He stared at her, so uncomfortably close to him, her cheeks pink from their fight, her eyes alive with anger, her chest rising and falling.

. . . in, out, in, out . . .

"Sometimes," she said, "I could just . . ."

Looking at her like this, so incredibly stimulated from their fight, Mamoru's racing heart refused to slow.

". . . just . . ."

. . . in, out, in, out . . .

Her breasts pressed into his chest with each breath she took, the look of fury in her eyes now mingled with something far more dangerous, something that sent a hard pulse through his body.

She swallowed, subconsciously licking her lips as she looked at his, one hand now trailing up his chest.

. . . in, out, in, out . . .

Fuck.

His breath stuttered a bit, and he knew she could now feel a certain part of him starting to press into her abdomen, too.

" . . . just what?" he asked in a shaky voice.

Her hand curled around the top of his shirtfront, her fisted fingers cool against the heat of his neck.

". . . do this."

She pulled him down, crashing her lips to his, and any restraint that he had vanished.

Usagi pulled back a fraction, her eyes locked on his. "Looks like I've finally found a way," she said as she dragged her lips across his with each word, "to get you to shut up."

"I really hate you," he said.

"I hate you more," she responded, then kissed him again.

He met her with equal passion as they battled for dominance in a lip-biting, tongue-sucking, mind-melting kiss.

Her hands were pulling at his neck as his grasped her waist and ass, forcing her ever closer. Gasping as she bit his lip hard enough to bring him out of his stupor, he pulled back for a breath, then redoubled his efforts, plunging his tongue deep into her mouth to punish her for her transgression.

Her responding moan reverberated through his entire body, feeding his need to dominate what had become their newest battleground. Neither allowed themselves to stop and think—this was all-out war and they were both determined to come out on top.

In an attempt to gain the upper hand, Mamoru deftly spun them to reverse their positions, forcing Usagi against the wall as he bracketed his arms on the wall above her head. She gasped in surprise, but the excitement in her eyes egged him on. He leaned into her, one leg between hers, and slowly pressed his now rock-hard erection against her. She groaned a little, letting her head fall back against the wall as she thrust her hips into his.

Mamoru couldn't think, couldn't believe what was happening right there in his living room. Never would he have expected to end up in a situation like this with Usagi—the one woman who drove him crazier than any other. Seeing her like this, feeling her pressed against him, knowing now that their bodies together created as much fire as their minds . . . it felt so wrong, yet so, so right . . .

Usagi seemed to be everywhere, filling and overwhelming his senses. Her touch, her taste, her smell . . . god, her incredible, intoxicating smell . . . Every bit of her was driving him past all sense of reason. He didn't even think to resist, and slowing her down seemed futile.

He felt his shirt yanked from his pants and overeager hands trying desperately to undo the buttons. Through his haze he reached down to help but it was too late—with a loud rip his shirt was torn open, sending small buttons scattering.

"Hey . . ." he managed to get out before she launched herself on him, sending them crashing ungracefully to the floor. Mamoru's fall was thankfully cushioned by the carpet, though he could feel several buttons pressing into his back. Usagi's weight on top of him didn't help much.

Then she sat up, straddling his crotch, and all thoughts of buttons were banished. He watched, wide-eyed as she swept her dress up and over her head, tossing it to the side.

Looking at her, magnificent in her simple bra and panties, her deceptively large breasts heaving with her every breath, Mamoru's mouth went dry. A jolt ran through him as he gripped her ass and realized she was in a thong. And her boobs . . . somehow, her boobs—creamy and smooth and swelling over the top of her bra—were even better than he had imagined (because yes, fine, he had imagined them. Many times).

"I think," Usagi said, leaning forward to kiss him once again, "that you should take your pants off."

"Hrgghhh . . ." Mamoru replied.

He complied quickly . . . or rather, as quickly as he could with her squirming on top of him, doing incredibly distracting things with her tongue to his ear and neck.

The rest of their clothes didn't last much longer. First her thong (already soaked through), then his underwear (excruciatingly in the way), followed finally by her bra (Mamoru would remember her exquisite breasts until his last breath) were stripped off and tossed, lying forgotten wherever they landed.

They were moving at a breakneck pace, neither willing to slow down enough to question what was happening. She was on top, grinding along his erection, then he was on top, making her cry out with his clever fingers, then she gained control again, seizing his cock in her firm grip and torturing him with her hand, but then he was over her once more, sucking her nipples as she writhed beneath him.

Finally a battered condom appeared, pulled triumphantly from the bottom of Usagi's purse. He rolled it on and she pressed his shoulders back, making her preference known. Lying down, he let her take control . . . just this once.

They locked eyes, acknowledging what was about to happen as she gripped his cock, positioning him just right.

Her cheeks were flushed, swollen lips parted, eyes brighter than he'd ever seen, hair chaotically sticking out from her once-smooth braid.

He had never seen a more breathtaking sight.

And then, she sat down, taking him inside of her all at once.

It was absolutely glorious.

And, as they quickly found out to their mutual satisfaction, they fucked quite as furiously as they fought.

Usagi didn't wait long to start moving, bracing her hands on his chest as her hips pumped. He gripped her thighs tightly as she rode him, first faster, then more slowly as she sat up to take him in more fully. Her legs splayed, taking him deeper still. Her breaths grew more staccato, her face more flushed as she took her pleasure.

Mamoru grit his teeth as he struggled to keep control. She was getting close, but he was getting closer.

Making an executive decision, he pulled her to his chest, then flipped her onto her back and took over, slipping a finger to her clit to send her over the edge as he pumped into her, fucking her hard. He felt her orgasm with all of his senses as it reverberated through them both, clawing through the breath they shared. She was all around him, filling the air with her cries, overwhelming him, driving him harder, urging him deeper. He thrust wildly into her slick heat again and again and again, his pace becoming frantic as his orgasm uncoiled from deep within. Usagi tightened her legs around his hips as he shuddered, coming hard inside of her.

He collapsed bonelessly on top of her, gasping for air, his heartbeat erratic.

Gradually he came back to himself. Usagi was warm beneath him, looking at him with an unfathomable expression that he didn't have the brainpower to decipher at the moment. Rolling off of her, he flopped gracelessly onto his back, pulling the spent condom off as he did so.

Usagi sat up, then stood as quickly as she could on unsteady legs.

"Wow . . . haha, that was . . . um . . ."

Mamoru could hear her chattering nervously as she flitted around him, collecting her things.

"Well, um . . . I should really . . ."

Mamoru looked up to find her already pulling her dress on as she slipped into the entryway.

"Yeah, so . . . uh . . . bye!" he heard, followed by the sound of his door slamming shut.

He let his head fall back onto the ground with a hollow thunk.

He lay there for a long time, at least one button permanently embedded in his back, the dirty condom forgotten on the expensive hand-tufted carpet beside him, trying to get his brain to restart.

What the fuck had just happened?

He pressed a hand to his eyes, willing an explanation to come to his still-fuzzy brain.

It was the wine. It had to have been. He refused to consider any other possibility. Because him and Usagi? Hah!

Yep, definitely the wine.

In vino veritas, an unwelcome voice whispered in his mind.

He groaned, rubbing his face as a small part of him acknowledged how spectacular it had been.

Fucking tannins.

Fucking Usagi.

Fuck.

Thank you to everyone for your continued support! I hope you enjoy this new journey.

And a HUGE thank you to sexpert FloraOne for helping me out and rooting me on! We've come a long way, baby.