His Innocent Love | 18+

Chapter 13

When we arrive in Tokyo, we're both a bit jet-lagged despite the extreme luxury of the sleep pods in first class. But, despite all that, I was able to charm Mia into being a lot more loose with me, and we talked, smiling and laughing, throughout the evening. I wanted to pull her into the tiny bed in my pod, wrap my arms around her and take her, but I forced myself to keep some distance. It would probably be easier for everyone if she were to date someone like Tate. This limbo we're in is intolerable.
The only good thing about this sexual frustration is that it makes me feel that more determined to get this account locked down. If I can't fuck the shit out of her, I have to succeed at something, and that something might as well be Nakamura's money.

We check in and Mia looks at me, mouth hanging open when she hears me speak Japanese. I guess she didn't figure I was fluent since I don't speak Japanese to Nakamura on the phone. He told me when we first talked that he wants to practice his English, but now that we're here in Tokyo, I'll need to conduct nearly everything in their language. It's part of how things are done. They'll appreciate the respect it shows them.

Mia hangs off my arm as I discuss the rooms with the front desk attendant. Seeing Mia hold my arm, the attendant asks me discreetly in Japanese if we wouldn't prefer a suite, and though Mia's little fingers curled around my bicep tempt me, and as much as I want to cancel everything and spend the trip in bed, I tell her no. If I'm going to have any chance to stay focused on this trip, I'll need my own space. Mia drives me wild enough as it is. I don't think I could control myself if I were in the same suite. The attendant then asks if we want a connecting door between our rooms.

Is she trying to get me to fuck things up? I have to give her credit for being persistent.

"What's she asking?" whispers Mia in my ear, seeing me pause.

"Nothing," I say. "Just some details of the room."

"I hope mine is close to yours. Otherwise, I'm going to feel pretty alone here," she says, biting her lip. "I've never been so far from home. Everything is so different."

"Don't worry," I say. "You're not alone. You have me." I regret the way I smile at her as soon as the words leave my mouth, but I can't take it back now. And besides, it's true. Professional or not, best friend's daughter or not, I'll be damned if I'm going to let anything happen to Mia while we're in Tokyo. I'll be damned if I'm going to let her worry about a single thing, either.

I tell the woman we'll take the adjoining rooms, and she nods and types into the computer before handing us key cards. The closeness I'm feeling to Mia—and the fact that she's still insisting on keeping at least one hand on my arm at all times—on the elevator ride up to the rooms is pure torture.

We're finally standing at Mia's door, and I wait as she tries her key. I almost fall prey to the impulse to invite her into mine for a drink, but instead, give her a quick pat on the arm and turn away.

"See you in the morning?" she asks. Her voice is small and apprehensive, and I feel like a grade-A jerk for turning away now, but I don't trust myself to do anything else. If I start to comfort her now, I won't want to stop. And that isn't what either of us needs. I gotta get my head together and remember that I'm just her mentor.

"Bright and early," I tell her. "Seven AM."

Once I'm alone in my room, I begin undressing, leaving a trail of clothing from the door to the large bed. I'm normally pretty particular about leaving clothes—or anything else—lying around where they don't belong, but tonight I can't be bothered to care. I'll pick the clothes up later. Someone will, anyway.

Right now, I'm out of sorts and even though my body is still tired from the flight, my mind is racing.
At work and in business, I'm used to keeping my cards close to my chest. I don't let people in because I've learned over the years that that's an easy way to get burned. But with Mia?

All of my instincts start to feel... off. I start wanting to open up to her, wanting to share what I'm thinking and feeling. I want to cradle her in my arms, and at the same time I want to ravage her body with kisses and then take her again and again. I want her to want me, even though there is still a part of me that's reasonable enough to know it can never work between us.

I wonder how much longer I can keep pretending like I'm only interested in business when I'm with her. Nights like tonight certainly don't help, having her in the next room, probably taking a shower, or putting her hair up in a ponytail and throwing on some sweatpants with words printed across that round butt. "Juicy."

Finally completely naked, I sprawl out across the middle of the bed, not even bothering to get under the covers. The room is warm and my skin is hot to the touch, so I just roll onto my back and close my eyes.

Does she like her room? Is she as exhausted from the flight as I am, or would she rather be out doing something right now? Is she thinking of me the way I'm constantly thinking of her?

If she is, does she regret it? Or does she like it?

The last thought goes straight to my cock, and I can't help but reach down and wrap my hand around it. There's already pre-cum pooling at the tip, and I use my thumb to spread it, to use it as lube as I slick it over the head and shaft.

I run my free hand across my abs but in my mind, it's Mia's hand that's exploring my body, just like it's Mia's other hand that has a tight grip on my cock. I'm sure there's no comparison to her delicate, sweet touch, but it's still easy to imagine since I can so clearly see her face, sexy and somehow innocent at the same time, the moment I close my eyes.

"Oh, fuck," I murmur, raising my hips to meet my long, slow strokes as my other hand skims across my chest, over one nipple and then the other.

It feels so good to let myself go after such a long day—and I need it after so many hours being right next to Mia. She turns me into walking testosterone as if I were a teenager again. I can't remember a time when my cock was this hard, this often.

It's torture, but fuck, in some ways, I love it.

My body is already so turned on that I know I'm not going to last long. I'm not trying to draw this out, anyway. I just need this release so I can get some sleep, so I can at least have a chance of resting for a few hours before the meeting tomorrow.

I moan as I pick up a faster rhythm, my fist moving over my slick cock with the speed and grip that'll get me to where I need to be. My free hand is still roaming, still running up and down over my torso in a way that's similar to what I imagine Mia would do, but again, something is missing.

With another thrust of my hips, I'm inspired to try something different, and drag the fingernails of my free hand slowly across my abs, groaning in pure pleasure as the tiny spike of pain mixed with pleasure gives me what I need. That and the idea of Mia's mouth nibbling down my belly to reach my cock and take it down her sweet throat.

I grit my teeth as the orgasm builds, then pump my cock faster and harder until it's finally coursing through me. I fling my head back against the pillow as those white-hot jets spill out over my fist and across my stomach, leaving me breathless and panting on top of the bed.

It takes several seconds before I'm ready to open my eyes, and when I do the room still feels too hot, too stuffy and now too sticky to fall asleep. "Fuck," I mutter again, this time not in pleasure, and slowly roll out of bed.

On my way to the bathroom, I pick up the clothes I discarded earlier, then throw them onto an armchair as I pass by. That'll have to be good enough for now. At the moment, I'm more concerned with cleaning myself off, and I might as well take a cool shower while I'm at it.

Maybe then, I can finally get some sleep.

Maybe then, I can finally get her off my mind.