The Bedroom Business

Natsume's secretary, his little Sparrow, the only person able to make him lose his grip on his legendary cool. What would happen if they were trapped at his villa outside the city due to a heavy snow storm?

Chapter One

"Looks like we have just enough time to sit by the fire and enjoy our wine," said Natsume.

"All right," she said, after a second's hesitation. "That would be nice."

Yes, he thought, yes, it would be. Sitting beside the fire, his arms around her shoulder, her head on his chest…

Natsume put down his glass. "The thing is," he said gruffly, "I'm not a guy who believes in forever after."

He spoke before he could stop himself, but if he'd taken Mikan by surprise, she didn't know it.

"I know that, Natsume."

"Do you? I want you, Mikan. Hell, I want you so badly it makes me ache." He took a slow step towards her. "But I don't want to hurt you. And I'm not sure what you expect out of tonight."

Mikan didn't have to think about her answer. She'd come to grips with reality while she'd been making the sauce for pasta. She was an adult and so was he. Oh, she'd tried to pretty things up by telling herself she wasn't a woman meant for a one-night stand but the truth was, just as the sauce was made up of a bit of this and a bit of that, so was life.

Tonight was about sex, not romance. That was fine. She didn't believe in romance, anyway. This—being with Natsume, learning what other women knew—was part of life. And here, at long last, was her chance to live it.

"Just tonight," she said softly, her chin level, her eyes steady on his. "That's all I expect, Natsume. I just want—I want what you said you'd give me. What you said you'd teach me."

She sounded calm, almost cool. She wasn't though. Natsume could see the glass trembling in her hand. She was afraid, and excited, and the knowledge that she was both sent a lightning bolt of anticipation through his blood.

He took her wineglass from her hand and set it aside.

"Come here," he said softly, and drew her to him. "Mikan." He ran his hands down her back, then up again. "Mikan, you're so lovely."

"You don't have to lie to me. I know I'm not—"

Her voice was shaking. Well, why wouldn't it? She was terrified. Where was she supposed to put her hands? What was she supposed to do and say?

Her breath caught. Natsume had nuzzled her hair aside. His mouth was hot against her neck.

"It's true, though," he whispered. "You're beautiful, and sweet, and perfect."

"Natsume." Mikan shut her eyes. "I don't—I don't know what you want me to do."

He took her hands, looped them behind his neck.

"Just do whatever you want to do, sweetheart."

"Yes, but I—I--"

He kissed her gently, the brush of his lips against hers like a feather against her skin. Mikan caught her breath.

"Natsume? I don't think…"

"Good." He put his hand under her chin, tipped her face up to his. "Don't think, Mikan. That's it. Don't think. Just feel."

His eyes were deep and dark; she knew she could tumble into them, get lost in them forever.

"Natsume? Maybe we were right the first time. That coming here was a mis—"

He kissed her again. His lips pressed hers more firmly this time but his mouth was soft. Soft, and cool, and wonderful.

Her heart began to race. And there was a strange tingling sensation low in her belly.

"Natsume. Natsume, listen. I said that maybe coming here was—"

He silenced her by fitting his mouth carefully over hers, stroking the tip of his tongue against the seam of her lips.

"Mikan," he said gruffly, "just turn off that brain of yours and kiss me back."

She did. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed him, and knew, at long last, that being here, with Natsume, being in his arms, was what she'd waited for, all her life.

To Be continued.