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Queen of Love

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Chapter 10

Genevievearrivedwearinga stylish sweater dress that went well with the hat on her head. Between the flats on her feet and the modest amount of makeup, she was hardly recognizable compared to the woman who showed up in Shinjuku or a coffee shop in Shibuya. Probably because, as it was soon revealed, she had taken the train instead of having someone drive her.

“I was a bit embarrassed,” she admitted, tucking her long hair behind her ear. “I’ve never been to one of these places before – and everyone knows what they are, right?”

Aya offered a reassuring smile as she turned to the entrance of the discreet love hotel near Ikebukuro Station. “Yes. Now everyone knows what you really came to Tokyo for.”

“Stop…” Yet Genevieve followed Aya inside with a shy smile on her face. Every time she made a look like that, Aya felt like she had won some kind of coveted prize. “Have you been here before?”

“I’m familiar with it.” Aya approached the room kiosk. She immediately bypassed the thematic rooms. While they didn’t embarrass her any longer, she had a feeling they would send someone with Genevieve’s tastes into a genuine tizzy. “But if you’re asking if I make a habit of bringing beautiful women to places like this…” She shrugged, stepping aside so Genevieve could see the rooms that looked more like a four-star hotel room than a sexy jungle in space. “Depends on which answer you like more.”

“It is nice to have someone who knows how to navigate these things.” Genevieve browsed the rooms until she lingered on one that advertised a whirlpool tub. “Romantic, isn’t it?”

Aya hadn’t wanted to be the one who said it. “No, it’s my treat.”

She said that before Genevieve had the chance to get out either her card or the cash that all of these places accepted. “I couldn’t possibly let you do that,” Genevieve said.

“Yes, you can.”

Perhaps it was what Aya said – or the way she said it. Did it really matter, when Genevieve simply nodded and stepped aside so Aya could rent them a room for the next three hours?

As soon as the key was in her hands, she gestured to the elevator around the corner. “I really would like to hear what you found in Roppongi, by the way.”

The elevator was so small they had to crowd together. Aya didn’t put her arm around Genevieve, but it would have been easy enough.

“Honestly, I bumped into some people I knew from the political sphere. That was enough for me to know I don’t want to live there.”

“Really?” The doors opened quickly. Aya stepped out first, holding the door open for Genevieve. “I guess it is a big place for diplomats to live. Didn’t realize you knew so many, though.”

The doors closed on the quiet, narrow hallway. Aya led the way to the room at the end of the hall. She hoped Genevieve didn’t see the cleaning lady about to turn the corner to start work on another recently vacated love hotel room.

“My father was interested in politics.” Genevieve politely waited for Aya to open the door to their room. “Not in politics, mind you, but he made acquaintances with many Asian diplomats. I think at one point he was loose friends with an old Tokyo mayor. I couldn’t remember which one, though.”

Aya flipped on the light in the main area of the room. The entryway remained dark, even after Genevieve entered and the door locked behind them. “Governor,” she lightly corrected.

“Ah, yes… it is a governor, I suppose.” Genevieve leaned against the closet boasting spare bathrobes and slippers. They both removed their shoes and left them near the door. Aya placed her briefcase by her shoes before standing up again. “Everywhere is so different in how they do things…”

Aya propped her arm against the wall, inviting Genevieve to turn toward her. “Everyone is different, too.”

She hadn’t meant to come on so strong, but here they were, in a love hotel room where couples came to only do one thing. It’s not sleep. Unless it’s together. After they tire themselves out. Aya could probably go straight for the kiss right now, but teasing Genevieve into admitting her attraction was much more satisfying.

“They certainly are.”

Genevieve peered down at her feet as Aya extended a hand to caress her client’s cheek. “You’re acting nervous,” she noted.

“I wouldn’t call it ‘nervous.’” Genevieve glanced back up. “More like… anxious. Anxiously anticipating the moment when you make me feel like I can’t surface for air.”

“When I make you feel that way?”

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed…” Genevieve slid her way into Aya’s sideways embrace, “but I like the part where you’re on top of me.”

“Saa…” As much as Aya wanted to keep playing it cool, she struggled to do anything but pull Genevieve closer and make out with her against the wall. “That can be arranged. You only have to say the word.”

“Me? Why do I have to be the one to instigate everything?”

“Because if I’m going to get on top of you…” Aya gave her a preview when she gently pushed Genevieve against the closet and teased her lips with that coveted kiss. “I need to hear you say you want it.”

Genevieve’s arms hesitantly wrapped around Aya’s shoulders. If she thought that was closing the gap between their lips, she was sorely mistaken – Aya had her principles, and she stuck to them. “Get on top of me, Ms. Aya.” Her purr was as seductive as the way she had moved against Aya’s lap the last time they shared an intimate moment. “Now. If it pleases you.”



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