Jakunen Mirai
Chapter 12: Phantasm
***
“What do you mean, he’s not in?! He’s the Big Boss!” Sheree threw
her hands up in the air in dismay, then thrust her
head into them when her elbows returned to the tabletop.
Yuki rolled her eyes and petted her friend’s shoulder. “Hey don’t
worry. There’ll be other reports you’ll get to deliver to him personally…”
She jumped in on top of her. “No there won’t, this was a special event; there
is no way in Hell I’ll be able to do it again, since I’m not his secretary!” By
now she’d openly admitted to her friends that she thought he was ‘very handsome
for an old guy’, and it was almost blatantly obvious that she wanted to be able
to make contact with him again, even if it was just for a good ogle.
“Look, just calm down, okay? He works here just like everyone
else. It’s not like you’ll never see him again…”
A frustrated growl escaped the exasperated blonde’s lips. “Yeah, but from a distance. I like to be noticed, ya know?”
“How can you help it in here?” Yuki smirked. “You’re the only white
person around!”
Of course, how could she forget? “You have a point.” Slowly, she
brought herself back down to Earth. “I’m good, I’m calm…” A sharp inhalation,
then a slow breath out, and she was alright. “I’ll just have it put on his
desk. You’re right, I will see him around again…”
***
He’d been sitting on the small suitcase on his bed for a minute or
so now…it didn’t look like it was going to explode open again, at least for
now.
He was a light traveller, and never found the need for a few massive
suitcases for a business trip, but since he was going to be away for an
indefinite period of time, he’d packed a few more clothes than usual. And the
suitcase didn’t like it. In fact, it wanted to spit half of it out on the
floor. He wouldn’t let it, though. As he locked it, still sitting on it, he
began to wonder whether the clasps would compete well with his entire 75kgs in
holding the case together. Somehow, he doubted it.
Now for the moment of truth. He stood up,
and hopped off the bed, then looked back at the case behind him. Nope, no explosion. Good, it all fitted inside.
Satisfied that his packing had been achieved, Kazuya yawned into
the palm of his hand, and began taking off the day’s used clothing. As usual,
it was dumped on top of that handy chair beside the bathroom…its contents were
regularly shifted to the washing machine, of course. With that task too out of
the way, he disappeared into the bathroom to take a shower.
A quarter of an hour later, dressed in nothing but a pair of satin
boxers, he came back out into his bedroom, dumped the suitcase on the floor,
and slipped beneath the covers of his bed. Even though it was not quite eleven
at night, he felt the need for an early sleep, since he had to leave for the
airport in six hours. That meant five and a half hours sleep…more than he
usually got, admittedly, but it was better than nothing.
It was unusual for sleep to come so quickly for him. Perhaps it
was the exhausting day he’d had; whatever it was, within five minutes of
turning the light off, he was asleep; dreamless, peaceful, silent sleep.
***
She’d made it this far, she might as well go the whole way.
Sheree had been working a late shift, damn her boss, and with it
finally over with, she realised that it was after eleven at night. The whole
remainder of the day she’d been dying to at least try and see him, and the news
of a late shift had almost been enough for her to break some precious family
jewels. So, after her shift ended, she decided to go ‘exploring’ again.
At this point, she’d found herself standing just behind his door,
unable to pluck up the courage to repeat her adventure from several weeks ago.
But after standing there for a few minutes, she began to hear the sound of
light snores; beneath the door, no light emanated – there was darkness inside.
Aw, what the heck, she told herself, might as well leap into the
deep end. Logic escaped her, and slowly, surely, she
opened the door a few inches, and slipped inside.
She saw him lying pretty much the same way as he had been the
first time she made this expedition. The covers had been kicked off, but were
tangled around his feet, and he was face up, sprawled generously across the
mattress. After watching for a while, Sheree realised he was deep enough in
sleep to not notice her presence.
A moment later, she took the initiative to step closer. The dim
light from the hall illuminated the room ever so slightly; of course, enough
for her to become mesmerised by the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his
powerful chest. Yes, he definitely had the body of a fighter.
Against her better judgement, one hand slipped down, and rested
against the warm, smooth flesh of his chest. By now she’d learned he was nearly
fifty years old; in fact, it was only another month before his birthday. He
didn’t look his age. Not by a long shot. His face was still youthful to an
extent, and there was not a wrinkle present on him anywhere. And his body was
still in fantastic shape. She could have kept her hand there all night; the
feel of his skin was more than delightful...and she wished for a moment that he
was hers.
He breathed deeper a moment, and, startled, she raised her hand
back, holding it to her chest in fright. It took her a few seconds to realise
it was safe, once he settled down again. It was that sudden reminder of how
ferocious, how dangerous this man was that brought a sensual shiver crashing
through her veins; she couldn’t resist the violent urge to come closer to him
again. She leaned down just a little way; the smell of mild soap hit her nose,
but along with that was a definite masculine smell…a mixture of sweat,
possibly, and his own personal smell. It made her feel
distinctly…turned on.
One of her thumbs ran over the scar across one cheek. His skin was
warm and soft, though he’d obviously not bothered with shaving before going
straight to sleep. The inevitable happened swiftly; she began to lose control
of her hand. Slowly, she began to trace her fingers over his other cheek and
along his jaw line, through the thick black hair above, then a single finger
over one brow, and down the middle of his nose. He was a dangerous beauty; and
it was his danger that made him so sexy in her opinion.
Before she knew what she was doing, the hand travelled lightly
down his neck, and back down to his chest again. Another good point she noted
was that he had a distinct natural lack of body hair…unlike all the men she’d
messed around with in
Her heart leapt up into her throat, and, nearly panic-stricken,
she hastily but silently left the room, shutting the door behind her
soundlessly. This time she successfully made her way to her car parked in the
main building’s basement without having to play hide-and-seek, and took of
home. Her previous act left her with her heart racing and her palms sweaty, but
at least she had sated her curiosity.
***
What had been a dreamless sleep had decided to throw him into one of the most
interesting phantasms he’d had in years. His unconscious mind ran illusions of
a gentle, feminine hand running up and down his torso, the light sensations
failing to tickle him, but instead, only make him feel wonderful and warm all
over. His face, so often neglected – by himself most of all – immediately
relaxed beneath the gentle touch of these mysterious hands.
Immediately, his resting mind projected images of his former love,
the light of his life – Jun Kazama – into the place of the mystery hands. He
took a deeper breath, willing her on…he was hers, and
hers alone…forever. He was now her property, and he wanted her to do whatever
she desired to him; whatever it was she had in mind, he would enjoy it.
Oh how he wanted to reach out and touch her, feel her, taste
her…but he couldn’t move. Yet, he didn’t mind. She was his angel, and just her
mere presence lifted every ounce of doubt, hate and sadness from his life.
The feeling of her hand touching his chest in its most sensitive
place made him jump, and made him want to moan with delight…but no sound came,
his body made no movement.
Then everything stopped.
Kazuya sat up suddenly, his peaceful dream shattered to smithereens
for some bizarre reason. He glanced about in the darkness, but saw nothing. He
heard nothing. But somehow, he felt a mingling presence. After a moment, he
realised he could still feel the faint tingles of someone’s fingers upon his
skin; his skin was covered in goose bumps, his nipples were rock hard and
standing out into the night – that was definitely unusual – and he could tell,
without even checking, that he was at least partially excited.
Mildly disappointed, he put it down to the bizarre dream he’d just
had. Though, he couldn’t place why he felt the remnants of the invisible trails
someone’s hands had wrought upon him.
And he couldn’t figure out why he could distinctly smell female
perfume in the room.