Lisa stared back at her own reflection, trying to see what he claimed to, and almost shook her head.
No.
The walk down the long hallway to their rooms seemed to take an eternity. He politely opened her door for her and settled her bags inside as she took in the vast chamber. Lisa practically ran to the terrace door and pulled it aside, racing to the edge of the balcony as the breeze pressed against her. Her heart felt as though it were about to take flight; the rapid mix of emotion inside of her chest terrified her.
She needed to keep control, no matter how excited... No matter how much she might feel.
“Ms... Lisa,” Yamamoto said, watching her from the door. “I hope... I had to see you somewhere private, somewhere we could talk without...”
“I’m glad to be here,” she said, turning towards him. The sky was a rich violet, the breeze picking up behind her. “Neutral ground,” Lisa continued, shrugging, “is a good idea for beginning a real relationship.” Realizing how that sounded, she was suddenly afraid and immediately backpedaled. “I mean, I’m not trying to make any assumptions about what you’re expecting from this--” I love you , she thought, but the words caught in her throat, and careful, pre-made excuses came out instead. “I think this is a good idea, being here, instead of the office, to talk it out. Whatever it is we’re talking out.” She bit her lip.
Yamamoto’s face was half hidden in the long shadows. “What do you need?” He asked, and she frowned, confused.
“What do you mean? I don’t need anything right now, except--” You. “Perhaps some dinner?”
He took a slow step towards her, and as the night grew thicker around them his expression remained invisible. “What do you need from me?”
So many things , she thought. Too many . “I’m not--I don’t know--”
He was finally next to her, so close she almost took a tiny step back out of habit. The last bit of light caught his eyes, and they were electric with desperation and desire. “--I love you,” he whispered, the sound so soft the wind stole it away. “I love you, Lisa,” he said again, and she felt a knot of fear and want in her throat. “I love you,” he told her, and then his hands were around her waist, his lips hot against her throat. “What can I give you, to show you--” She gasped as his hands slid under her shirt, and let out a startled cry as they roughly tore the waistline of her skirt open, the fabric falling around her feet and leaving her bare. “What do you need from me to see --” His warm, strong fingers slipped between the thin seams of her blouse and ripped them apart, buttons flying across the balcony, scattering in the breeze. “Lisa, you are everything to me,” he whispered, and his fingertips were suddenly still against her bare skin, resting above the thin elastic of her panties. Her shirt flapped in the wind, and she leaned back against the rough, pebbled concrete of the balcony wall, the flimsy iron rail her only grip. “I will give you anything,” he whispered, “I will do anything, just please...” His voice was desperate with longing, and he panted into her hair, his forehead pressed into the rough concrete of the wall above her head. His fingertips curled around the elastic, pulling it taunt. “I know I make your body feel... I know I can give you pleasure,” he said, and she heard his voice shaking. Slowly, she reached up and pulled his face towards hers, her palms flat on his smooth cheeks. “But what I feel --I just need to know if there’s anything I can give you, to hear you say...” His eyes clenched shut in humiliation. “You never said...”
She felt horribly cruel; her earlier attempts at casual distance, her terror at the way they’d behaved in the office; how could she have known what she was doing to him? It
No.
The walk down the long hallway to their rooms seemed to take an eternity. He politely opened her door for her and settled her bags inside as she took in the vast chamber. Lisa practically ran to the terrace door and pulled it aside, racing to the edge of the balcony as the breeze pressed against her. Her heart felt as though it were about to take flight; the rapid mix of emotion inside of her chest terrified her.
She needed to keep control, no matter how excited... No matter how much she might feel.
“Ms... Lisa,” Yamamoto said, watching her from the door. “I hope... I had to see you somewhere private, somewhere we could talk without...”
“I’m glad to be here,” she said, turning towards him. The sky was a rich violet, the breeze picking up behind her. “Neutral ground,” Lisa continued, shrugging, “is a good idea for beginning a real relationship.” Realizing how that sounded, she was suddenly afraid and immediately backpedaled. “I mean, I’m not trying to make any assumptions about what you’re expecting from this--” I love you , she thought, but the words caught in her throat, and careful, pre-made excuses came out instead. “I think this is a good idea, being here, instead of the office, to talk it out. Whatever it is we’re talking out.” She bit her lip.
Yamamoto’s face was half hidden in the long shadows. “What do you need?” He asked, and she frowned, confused.
“What do you mean? I don’t need anything right now, except--” You. “Perhaps some dinner?”
He took a slow step towards her, and as the night grew thicker around them his expression remained invisible. “What do you need from me?”
So many things , she thought. Too many . “I’m not--I don’t know--”
He was finally next to her, so close she almost took a tiny step back out of habit. The last bit of light caught his eyes, and they were electric with desperation and desire. “--I love you,” he whispered, the sound so soft the wind stole it away. “I love you, Lisa,” he said again, and she felt a knot of fear and want in her throat. “I love you,” he told her, and then his hands were around her waist, his lips hot against her throat. “What can I give you, to show you--” She gasped as his hands slid under her shirt, and let out a startled cry as they roughly tore the waistline of her skirt open, the fabric falling around her feet and leaving her bare. “What do you need from me to see --” His warm, strong fingers slipped between the thin seams of her blouse and ripped them apart, buttons flying across the balcony, scattering in the breeze. “Lisa, you are everything to me,” he whispered, and his fingertips were suddenly still against her bare skin, resting above the thin elastic of her panties. Her shirt flapped in the wind, and she leaned back against the rough, pebbled concrete of the balcony wall, the flimsy iron rail her only grip. “I will give you anything,” he whispered, “I will do anything, just please...” His voice was desperate with longing, and he panted into her hair, his forehead pressed into the rough concrete of the wall above her head. His fingertips curled around the elastic, pulling it taunt. “I know I make your body feel... I know I can give you pleasure,” he said, and she heard his voice shaking. Slowly, she reached up and pulled his face towards hers, her palms flat on his smooth cheeks. “But what I feel --I just need to know if there’s anything I can give you, to hear you say...” His eyes clenched shut in humiliation. “You never said...”
She felt horribly cruel; her earlier attempts at casual distance, her terror at the way they’d behaved in the office; how could she have known what she was doing to him? It
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