Chapter 6
Imustbenuts.The only part of Aya that thought that was her brain, safeguarding her against embarrassment and certain catastrophic failure – the kind that wouldn’t only sting her to death, but tank her career.
She told herself it was a curiosity to know what kind of hotel wealthy clients stayed in when doing business in Tokyo. Deep down, though, she knew her heart ran the show. Not the heart looking out for her best interests. It was the heart directly connected to her damnable pussy.
So it had been a while… so, she made stupid decisions…
Genevieve found them a cab by the main road separating the different districts of downtown Shinjuku. It wasn’t until they were in the back and Genevieve announced the name of the hotel in Shibuya that Aya realized how real it was. They weren’t merely sharing a cab. Nor were they simply going to another place to carry on their conversation. We’re going back to her hotel. Aya was old and mature enough to know what that meant. Genevieve had been flirting with her since they first met. The woman was Gay with a capital G.
She was also interested in Aya, a woman who would be all over her if it weren’t for their professional relationship hanging over their heads.
“Shibuya,” Aya told the elderly cab driver in his pristine uniform and clean white gloves. “Zaa Royaru Hebbin.” The driver wouldn’t understand a thing unless Aya said the English-named hotel in the conventional accent shared around the city. The Royal Heaven was hard for most Japanese people to say on a good day, and Aya still didn’t know what the hell that hotel chain was thinking when they moved into town.
“Thank you,” Genevieve shyly said from her corner of the cab. “Or should I say san kyuu?”
“You joke, but people would understand you better.”
Genevieve kept her hands locked against her lap as she gazed in Aya’s direction. The cab was already heading toward Shibuya. “As I said, I really need to learn better Japanese. And your customs. Parts of this city are so different from what I’m used to in Singapore. Or the other cities I frequent, for that matter.”
Aya said nothing. Until she came up with the clever, “San kyuu is actually common because of how lucky we think it is.”
“Really?”
It sounded good to Aya. “San kyuu sales mean everything’s thirty-nine percent off. Because…”
“San is three and kyuu is nine. Yes.” That smile was ineffably charming, even in the dark. “I can count to ten, at least.”
I have to count to ten to not explode.
Genevieve’s suite in The Royal Heaven hotel was as ostentatiously grand as Aya anticipated. Between the dramatic view looking toward Tokyo Tower and Tokyo Skytree, and the sunken living area that had more couches than anyone would know what to do with, Aya had half a mind to wonder if this was an apartment. Yet as Genevieve bypassed the light switches and went straight for one couch in particular, Aya was pulled into a vortex that wouldn’t release her until Genevieve Liu, Duchess of Singapore, released her.
“Come sit with me,” came a purr from the dark. “We’re both adults. Let’s not allow embarrassment to come between us.”
Aya cleared her throat. She almost tripped into the sunken living area, catching herself at the last minute. Because it’s dark. As good of an excuse as any.
“Unless you don’t want to sit with me,” Genevieve then said.
Aya was used to women who knew what they were about. She was even familiar with the type of power bottom that ran the whole show in the bedroom. What she wasn’t used to was gazing upon a woman regal enough to command her own kingdom. Even in a simple dress, Genevieve Liu was tougher, more powerful, and worldlier than anyone Aya had ever touched, let alone thought about sleeping with.
As hot as the thought was, queens could be dangerous. Their moods changed with the moment. What pleased them a second ago might now be the end of their world, and heads would roll. To dance with Genevieve was a chance at death; to deny her might be even worse.
“The only embarrassment I’ll feel is if I crash to the floor.” Aya sat on the cushion next to Genevieve, who pulled her hair off to the side and threaded her finger through thick and enticing strands. “It’s dark in here.”
“We can turn on the light if you like.”
Her voice was so steady and content that Aya couldn’t question who had seduced whom. She’s been in charge this whole time. It came so naturally to her, didn’t it? What Genevieve wanted, she got, whether it was a building in Tokyo or the woman who was selling it. Shit. Was this already one of the hottest situations Aya had encountered? Yes, and they hadn’t even kissed yet. Yet was it also one of the most nerve-wracking? In any other situation, Aya would have already wrapped her arm across the back of the couch, enticing her would-be lover to come closer. In this haphazard situation, though, Aya questioned what was wanted from her. What did she even want from herself?
I want to stop overanalyzing everything, for one thing. Yet her throat was dry and her skin sweaty as Genevieve gingerly took her hand, curling their fingers together.
“Did you miss my comment about liking it when the other woman is the forward one?” she teased Aya.
“No. I’m definitely thinking about it.”
“Maybe we should stop beating around the bush, as they say.” Genevieve’s head soon touched Aya’s shoulder. “Have you heard that phrase before?”
“Yes.” Aya honestly couldn’t remember it, but it didn’t take her long to guess its meaning. To be honest, I’ve forgotten a lot of Japanese phrases right now. All of her words had flown from her brain. The queen had commanded it. She’s got them locked up in her dungeon. Next thing I know, they’ll be shackled to the wall, while I’m up here chained to her bed. Aya saw a future for herself as a personal sex slave for the queen. I was never concubine material. Straight to sex slave. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while. And never with a client.”
That silky hair slipped off Aya’s shoulder as decadent eyelashes brushed against her cheek. Genevieve smelled of roses. Safe. Plain. Feminine.