Disclaimer: Neither AP or PP is a Japanese woman in her 50s with amazing artistic talent when it comes to drawing manga. PP will stick to her stories, editing, and researching Japan, and AP will stay with her psychology, photography, and maybe crappy stories on the side, thanks a ton. :|

PP'S A/N: I'm extremely sorry for such a long wait; it would've came two days ago, had I not gotten a bad headache, or yesterday, had I not ran out of my muse—coke—and been unable to write it like I planned. And then AP and I had some trouble writing the citrus as well...so that delayed things even further. xD; However, over three months later, an update has came! I hope I didn't fail and you guys enjoy! ^.^

AP'S A/N: ^^^ The bold in the disclaimer is my addition not PP'S =/ Uhm…sorry about the late update. DX Hope you like the sex…? Idk what to say… Guacamole. I don't like it. Anyone like it? Post a review. :P Uhm…enough hold ups. Here's MS chapter 3. :P

PS FROM PP: Yeah…this chapter may suck in writing, character personality, and humor. I'M SORRY! *bows in apology repeatedly* (PS FROM AP: Seriously folks…guacamole.)

Midnight Snack

a patriot-pup production

3: Half a Grapefruit

When Kagome woke up the next morning, she had the worst case of bed-head known to mankind.

Dear Kami… Azure eyes observed herself as she tugged a disfigured strand before letting it go, watching it bounce back and remain as it was. The only thing she could compare herself to at the moment was Medusa on drugs. What the hell… She was a complete wreck—or more like she wrecked on the side of the road and kept on driving and trying to evade oncoming traffic. Or maybe she was hit by a bus mid-slumber, mid-daze?

She knew she didn't get any sleep last night—a certain Adonis would surely haunt her dreams if she did manage to doze off, causing her to hurriedly wake up from sexual frustration and have the urge to get rid of the ache herself—but she didn't think her hair would suffer from it, either. Now, the small bags underneath her eyes—she expected those and could always cover them up with make-up. But her hair…

Gods. She looked like a hooker who just had rough sex—or, in that case, was forced to do "free services."

At that disturbing mental image and horrible comparison, Kagome cringed and headed into the living room, making sure to avoid eye contact with the kitchen where it happened. Ruffling through the stuff she'd strewn about the place, she managed to find her cell phone and hit speed dial number one, which, disappointingly enough, wasn't a line to any sex phone services.

She sighed. She really, really needed to get laid—but not right now. Oh, no. She wouldn't let that Inuyasha sex god win her over anytime soon, no sirree. I swear it's like my life is just some story for other people's amusement, where the writers are sadists…

"Kagome?" Sango's voice came from the other end, calling her back from her thoughts, and a pop was heard on the other end. Undoubtedly her friend's back—or some trainee's—Kagome shivered at the noise before putting on a fake smile, forgetting completely that her friend couldn't see it. "What are you doing, calling me at work?"

Shoot—she forgot Sango worked today (unlike her, who got the next week off to move in). "Oh, my bad," Kagome laughed nervously, hesitantly sitting down on her party couch. Who knows—she could be up and moving the next second due to the ghost of the woman who once lived here randomly appearing and seeking revenge for her killer. After all, the poor woman was killed in a car accident—head-on collision—and Kagome thought it'd be awesome to tell ghost stories of hearing car alarms and honks around midnight just to make her brother wet himself. "I was just wondering if, uh, you wanted to go pick up some paint and other stuff with me to fix up and decorate my apartment." And help me escape this freaking apartment building ay-sap!

She didn't exactly add she needed to escape because she'd be creaming a permanent stain into her pants if she stayed near the Adonis reincarnate any longer, though. The poor trainer wasn't even aware Kagome had a sex drive—how the hell was she supposed to explain to outgoing, experienced, yet oblivious Sango that the sexiest man ever born fondled her breasts the previous night when walked away like nothing happened?

Exactly.

"Sure," Sango quickly replied, and a thud was heard, undoubtedly being the client she was helping. Kagome briefly prayed for the poor soul who was just dropped unexpectedly to the floor before Sango added, "Just let me take a shower and get changed, and I'll be right over." Kagome opened her mouth to give her consent, but before she could do so—

The dial tone rung in her ears.

Well, damn. Wasn't Sango eager to get over here today? Huffing, she ignored the bad taste her friend's uncharacteristic impoliteness left in her mouth—and her mind, of course, wandered to what other tastes could be in there instead. Resisting the urge to smash her head against the wall from her constant perverted thoughts as of recent, Kagome crossed her arms and checked the time, estimating when Sango would arrive. Approximately at eleven, maybe, if she was lucky and Sango didn't nearly run into everybody on the way; the woman was known for her road rage, after all. (She remembered one specific incident where the yoga trainer felt a good fit of rage towards an old woman with a cane crossing the road when the light was red, raving on and on to the book lover about how long she was taking to cross while the quieter of the two tried to calm her impatience. Ever since, when she was in the car with her best friend, Kagome brought headphones to drown her out.) And if that was the case, she'd have enough time for a shower herself, wouldn't she?

Never the one to have been coordinated, she practically tripped over her apartment's bare floor in her hurry to get to the bathroom. She was careful with removing her clothing (an act that felt oddly more sensuous than usual), and when in the shower, made sure to ignore touching her body too much in fear she'd be thrust into visions of hard muscle, sensitive, soft flesh, and feral violet eyes tracing her form, meeting her eyes mischievously… Her core growing warm and moist from feeling his glossy, stimulating, raven locks… Strong, calloused hands over her precious mounds, teasing and twisting and touching—

Wait, what?

"Gah!" She slapped the shower nozzle and quickly shook out her hair, hoping no suds were left. She'd never been in a hurry to get dressed in her life, always loving her baths dearly, but damn—with a rude sex god like him entering all her thoughts, she couldn't risk getting turned on again. Nearly slipping on her way out of the bathtub-shower combination, she dressed in the simple green t-shirt and white shorts she had picked out beforehand, trying to control her erratic breathing in the meantime.

She had to admit, as amazing as last night had been—a sex god like that coming into her apartment and molesting her with consent was not one of her fantasies, though it might as well have been—she did not want a replay. She was not easy! She was Higurashi Kagome, librarian and heroine to children everywhere! She encouraged reading, keeping your trap shut, and being studious, not climaxing from the mere sight of a practical stranger!

She nodded her head firmly, puffing air and sticking out her chest at this internal declaration. That's right—she wouldn't fall under anyone's charm so easily, and if that sex god/molester wanted to pay her another visit in his sleep tonight, she'd be prepared.

Now, all she had to find was a cat and office chair…

After laughing evilly and soon battling with the monster that was her hair—"Damn you! Become straight again!"—Kagome rubbed her aching head while walking through her new living room. She was so relieved Sango agreed to meet her for some girl time; the further away she found herself from this apartment, the better chances she'd forget about sex overall. Nodding to herself, sure that time with Sango would be one of the biggest turn-offs in history, and not paying any mind to the noises out in the hall, Kagome opened her door—

Her jaw hit the floor for the trillionth time since she arrived at her new apartment.

Sango was getting it on with Miroku.

In the hallway, where anyone could see them.

OH MY GODS.

"WHY? WHY?" was all she could force out, and a breathless, red-faced Sango acknowledged her briefly with a nod of her head before just about sucking off Miroku's mouth as if her friend's presence hadn't really settled in her conscience. And even though they weren't to the actual sex yet and were mostly clothed, Kagome felt her empty stomach churn. She knew Miroku and Sango had been intimate in college, but…dammit. She didn't want to see this! They were slamming into each other, eating the other up, trying to tear off their own clothes…! This was like free porn for a sex addict!

Trembling from the scarring sight of it all—Miroku's hand cupping Sango's bottom, Sango grinding into his covered front as he rammed her into the wall—Kagome squeaked, covering her eyes and accidentally ramming into a wall in a lame attempt of an escape. "W-what about Kuranosuke?" she managed to get out, Sango mumbling a cancelled all future dates with him five minutes ago in response, as if it were truly that simple. Making disgusted noises and practically scratching at her eyes as she turned away from the heated, temporarily reunited couple, she almost didn't notice when a certain apartment door whipped open to reveal an annoyed, walking wet dream.

Almost—but then she spotted him, just two feet away, and he watched the scene between Miroku and Sango with disinterest. "Really?" he said blankly, though the heated couple paid no mind to their audience. "You really have to fuck right here, right now, out in the hallway?"

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit—

The familiar heat gathered in her stomach, the moisture increasing in-between her legs as her eyes roamed over the firm, shapely limbs, his glistening, tanned torso that seemed to have been carved specially by the gods, the onyx strands either tied in a ponytail resting on one broad shoulder or sticking to his masculine face, the one she instantly imagined in-between her legs, working its succulent, rosy petals on her lower lips. Embarrassed—or pleasant—heat automatically began flooding her cheeks, and maybe she was radiating warmth or something, because the feral, amethyst gaze hidden by dark, seducing bangs flashed to her form, criticizing her with tough, untamed eyes.

Her jaw about fell off.

It was official: she needed to get out of here NOW!

Scanning the hall for some sort of escape from this, she kept fumbling against the wall, finding her eyes stuck to his form against her own will until she found a knob, twisted it (ramming into the door a few times within a matter of seconds, being in too big of a hurry to get out of there), opened the door, and flung herself into a safe haven—

—only to meet the questioning eyes of a knitting Kaede.

Internally cursing herself for at least not checking where she was going and wondering once more what the Kami had against her, she awkwardly forced out with a grin, "Hey, um…hi."

Kaede stared blankly in return, seemingly uninterested in her presence. "I do not wish to know why ye entered my apartment without so much of a knock," she said sternly, and Kagome averted her eyes as though the scene from outside would be replaying in her blue orbs. "However, if ye help me with my plants, I will allow ye to stay."

The intruder visibly deflated with relief. "Alright, Kaede-san," she agreed, scooting away from the door and following the old woman teetering to her kitchen. Sapphire eyes scanned the room warily, taking in the ranch interior designing and homey feel of the place, and her nose twitched as she caught the faint scent of cookies in the oven. Nearly jumping out of the open window from frustration upon remembering Miroku's two cookie thefts and when Sex Bomb Inuyasha stole the entire pot—with her there, nonetheless!—she screamed in her head, What's with these people and cookies?

"Here," Kaede said, catching Kagome off-guard when she was the one to throw something heavy into the other's arms this time. The new resident looked down in her arms, observing the green watering can with doubt before turning back to the elder female who was making her way across the room already. Her arms still sore from yesterday—her furniture and full pot of cookies could snap anyone's spine in one day—she unsteadily followed, stopping eagerly when the woman pointed to a small pot of petunias. "Water that, please," Kaede requested before moving to a window with a rose bush hanging off the ledge.

Not paying attention to the amount of water she let into the pot—her mind was in a dirtier, lust-filled place where a certain looker was naked and awaiting her arrival—Kagome tipped the can and didn't notice as the water drenched the flowers and flattened them to the ground. She moved onto the rose bushes, doing the same, though when Kaede barked out another demand, her psyche was ruined and the pot was sent flying off the ledge and onto the sidewalk seven stories below.

…Whoops.

Pretending nothing happened and hoping Kaede didn't see the nervous sweat beading on her neck, she went to where the old woman was and made sure to water the lilies more gently this time. Kaede, probably deciding her work was good enough, went to make herself comfortable on the couch and began speaking as Kagome fiddled with the strange petals of the lily.

"I apologize for Inuyasha's behavior yesterday; he's not exactly the friendliest boy around."

"Oh!" Kagome gasped, not expecting her to begin talking about him. Her being startled caused her hand, which was grasping onto a lily petal, to jerk, ripping off the poor petal as if it were nothing. Silently squeaking to herself, she tried to put it back on the flower without Kaede noticing.

"To be frank, ye look an awful lot like the woman who owned the apartment previous to ye," she continued, oblivious to Kagome's internal panic. "Seeing ye probably gave him a shock."

"I—I see," Kagome managed to say casually, still stabbing the flower with the petal in hopes it'd become whole again.

Kaede turned to look at the girl, and Kagome quickly covered the plant from the woman's good eye's vision. "Tell me, child, how did ye sleep on your first night here?"

"Horrible," Kagome confessed in a groan, avoiding Kaede's gaze as last night's events played through her mind for what seemed like the millionth time. "That guy—Inuyasha—he sleepwalked right into my apartment; had a key and everything!" Mumbling under her breath, she added without giving a clear explanation, "He kept me from getting my midnight snack or going back to sleep."

Kaede nodded in understanding, turning away from Kagome once more and letting the poor woman attempt to "fix" the plant to the best of her ability. "As far as I knew, he was friends with Kikyou, as was I; she told me he sleepwalked into her apartment nightly—it just happened to be his place to go—and she got so used to it, she gave him a key so he could just come in for himself and she could continue sleeping on. So, that would explain the key and why he came to your apartment: force of habit." Kagome nodded, even though the woman couldn't see her, and faintly heard Kaede chuckle to herself. "Heavens, I'm sure everyone in the building knows about that boy's odd sleeping habits. Once, I remember Kikyou and I woke up to Inuyasha nearly falling down the stairs."

"Oh my god!" Kagome gasped, her surprise causing her to rip off another petal. Holding in a frustrated scream, she forced out, "Did he?"

"No," Kaede responded, "we shoved him."

And at that, Kagome lost her balance and crushed the entire lily.

"I remember how he broke an arm on his way down and how we had to call an ambulance to come and take care of him," Kaede sighed, oblivious to the younger female's shock as she looked at the ceiling as if it held a memento of the time. "Good times, good times…"

Deciding the flower was beyond help now that even gravity defied its existence, Kagome slowly connected the pieces together in her mind. Inuyasha had a habit of sleepwalking—and he was friends with Kikyou, who gave him an apartment key and coincidentally looked like Kagome herself. And then Inuyasha sleepwalked into the dwelling he was used to visiting and felt up her chest, probably comparing it to the dead Kikyou's. It broke her heart—and sex drive's hopes for what could've been a one-night stand—to say it, but finally, she could see the truth for what it was:

Inuyasha was a necrophiliac.

Thoughts halting to a sudden, staggered stop—and not even bothering to say goodbye to Kaede—Kagome raced out of her apartment at the new discovery, only hearing what seemed to be the old woman mumbling to herself that she'd have to bribe Inuyasha into fetching her new flowers again before she locked herself in her apartment.

Time to initiate Operation: Confrontation…

^—^—^—^—^

It was just after midnight when the door clicked—just as she anticipated. She had everything set up; she'd gone out and bought not only the food she promised herself to get the previous evening, but also a new chair. Even her dialogue was planned out, and Kagome had to say, Operation: Confrontation was sure to be a complete success. Who cares that she could still hear Miroku and Sango going at it in his apartment across the hall and Kaede's complaining about all the noise next door as she watched reruns of some old people's show? This plan was foolproof—she'd confront his butt right here, right now, and she'd tell him that she knew.

She knew his lusty desires for a dead woman. Hohoho, oh, how she knew…!

The moment he entered her apartment, the door echoing softly with a click behind him, she swiftly turned towards him in her swivel chair, petted her family's cat Buyo (whom she'd kidnapped a few hours earlier), and greeted him in her best mysterious business voice. "Hello there, Inuyasha; I've been expecting you."

And despite her total straight face as she said it, he walked past her as if she said nothing, ignoring her as his sleepy form somehow led him through the living room obstacles and into the kitchen once more. Pursing her lips in annoyance, Kagome tossed Buyo across the room—eh, cats landed on their feet anyway—and pursued the gorgeous man who just technically broke into her apartment…again.

Since all her neighbors seemed to be awake at this hour, she didn't even bother controlling her volume. "Hey!" she yelled, approaching the toned, tanned body on its way to her fridge. "Who do you think you are, walking into people's homes like you own a key?"

Rewind—he did own a key. Crap.

"I mean, you necrophiliac!" she shouted, correcting herself. However, he remained ignorant of her in favor of opening her fridge and feeling the contents inside, searching for something. Irritated beyond belief by just how rude he was being in his sleep right now, she marched right up to him, tapping his shoulder as she looked at what he was exactly doing. "How dare you come into my apartment, raid my fridge, and—" She paused and wondered—should she scold him for feeling her up when she gave slight consent and enjoyed it?

Wait—was he reaching for her oden?

The world seemed to stop turning—just for a moment—before an infuriated battle cry roared through the air.

NOOOOO! That was her midnight snack, dammit!

Grabbing his sturdy shoulders with strength she never knew she possessed and overlooking the electric sparks and instant warmth from her hands on his smooth skin, she pulled him away from the refrigerator, back towards her, where he then proceeded to tumble into her and send both of them to the floor.

How Operation: Confrontation became such a failure, she'd never know.

His head smacked into hers, his body crushing her to the ground, and everything of hers ached from fall—from her back to her chest, from her head to her tailbone, everything. Groaning somewhat, she was surprised when he seemed to pick himself up, though she was exceedingly glad for the lack of weight on her. For a few moments, his eyes remained closed, his body in mid-air with only his toes and hands to support him—hands that happened to be pinning her to the floor, mind you. As the pain faded away, she wondered what in the hells he was doing; his body was slowly lifting into the air…then growing closer to her…before just lifting again. What was he—

Wait—he was doing push-ups in his sleep?

Kagome's jaw broke off.

Her shocked eyes wandered over the taut, flexing muscles of his chest, abdomen, even down to the perfect lines that formed a V rising from the hem of his boxers. He was doing this after all…wasn't he? Yes, yes, he was doing push-ups mid-slumber! Holy—

At this point, her jaw should've just flat-out disintegrated.

No matter how random his push-ups were, no matter how…incredible his body looked and felt against her, it still didn't change the fact that she still had an operation to try and save. And by Kami, was she going to save that op—

Her heart jumped and fell awkwardly as he came down close to her for a short second—closer than he had before. She bit her lip as her senses intensified and her pulse began racing from his overall proximity. Not to mention, the looseness of his boxers had allowed for a certain appendage of his to touch her thigh…

It's not fair…, Kagome thought, internally crying from the torture, it's just not fair! There could have been no way she could be so lucky and so cursed at the same time, could there? Especially his "appendage" being so close to her aching womanhood…

If Kami existed, they were emotional sadists.

Through her thin lips, she let out a small, almost pained gasp, glancing up at his "sleeping" face that showed no signs of awareness of his…part's location. Honestly, how could he sleep, do push-ups, and still make her throb with want?

Another close push-up…

This time, the tips of his rich, onyx hair touched her collarbone, sending a pleasant chill down her body and straight to her core. Kagome huffed; that was the drawing point. Screw the operation! He had to get off of her—immediately. But why…oh, why did she have to make this decision?

Managing to find the will to move from her current position, Kagome attempted to get her arms free from the grip of his strong hands. "Inuyasha, maybe you shou—" she began, only to let out a squeak.

He had stopped the push-ups and released her only to place one hand over her breast. He tugged at the fabric of her shirt, as if trying to get it out of the way and reach the prize of her chest, and Kagome's eyes widened even further, leaving her looking like a deer in headlights. She felt herself grow wetter for what she could have sworn was the trillionth time since moving in, and cursed herself for not having any self-control over her arousal these days. At this rate, she'd be out of fresh panties before her first week!

She noticed a growing impatience in him when his hands became more frantic, and before she could react to his sudden change in mood, he had released her other arm, ripping open her expensive, silk, button-down shirt.

Remembering how that cost her three paychecks, her rare temper immediately sparked. "How dare you—" She was cut off again as his hands were now both on her breasts, gently cupping them and sending soft, hot sensations through her body at his touch. He stayed kneeling over her, still in a way that kept her pinned down to the wood flooring, and how he managed to be dominant while he slept eluded her. When he squeezed both mounds, Kagome automatically arched her back up further, feeling nearly overwhelmed from being fondled for a second time by a real-life sex god.

It almost escaped her currently distracted conscious, but she faintly noted how one of his hands moved underneath her, blindly searching for something.

Her eyes locked onto his muscles as they moved with every slight shift of his body, and wondered how so easily they all seemed to intertwine and cooperate with his movements; they pronounced what he was doing, made it all clearer and more forceful. The feel of his fingers on her back sent more shivers through her body, and she ached for more…but she shouldn't. No. She couldn't just let this orgasm-inducing, beautiful, feral-looking, violet-eyed, chisel-bodied sex god with suck-able lips and, now that she thought about, a member good enough to make her cream upon first sight…

Wait, where was she going with this?

With the sudden interruption in thought, she finally realized what he was doing: he was looking for her bra clasp!

Thankfully for her mind and unfortunately for her libido, all common sense she had came back to her, making her slight irritation at him for potentially ruining a fabulous shirt—no matter how unearthly sexy it was that he ripped it open like he owned her, sending the buttons flying to the floor—come back almost immediately. And at that, how could she forget the important detail that he was a NECORPHILIAC?

Without a second thought, her hand cocked back and she smacked him straight on, across his cheek, her teeth gritted and her palm only slightly stinging from the move.

However, the contact caused him to pause.

Her jaw dropped (yet again), surprised that she had actually slapped him. Coming to the conclusion that it had to be guaranteed she wouldn't be getting laid by him now, she whimpered from the lost possibility. Sure, she didn't want to sleep with him—right away. But she was sort of hoping…maybe later on, when she got used to the building…she could maybe sleep with him. You know, just for one night, or even better yet, every night for the rest of her lif— WAIT! Hold the phone! He… He was…

…waking up…

Oh, shit. His lids slowly began to open, slowly revealing perfect, mauve eyes that locked onto her sapphire ones, the emotions behind them almost indecipherable. "Ah…" was all that came from her mouth in a small croak, a forced, nervous grin spreading on her lips. Her hand was still in the air from the assault she had just given to his face, and she knew he must have felt a sting on his cheek when his amethyst eyes glanced to her hand and an irritated expression came over his features.

And slowly but surely, she felt his hands slide out from around her.

Shit…no. There was no way he was going to escape this time, not when she had him so close in her grasp. No matter how stalker-sounding her thought seemed, she wasn't going to let him just leave as he had before just when she'd created a plan to confront him on this whole "invade the newbie's apartment" drama.

"No!" she roared and grabbed his shoulders, swiftly pushing him down onto the floor in one movement. Damn. Maybe she was secretly strong, and the thing that brought it out was an Adonis-like being in her presence. Though how often would that happen? She was surprised at herself for her show of strength, but there was one thing that hadn't clicked in her mind yet—

"What the hell are you doing?" her intruder asked in an annoyed voice.

Her thoughts about her own actions exactly.

"Um…well…" Act casual, act casual, act casual— "You were about to eat my oden."

Wait, what?

He raised one bushy eyebrow, the movement making her nerves tingle for some reason. "I was about to eat your…oden?" he finished, his tone suggesting her IQ was quite lower than her career would suggest.

Which, you know, it wasn't. Huffing (and gathering what little balls she had), Kagome proclaimed, realizing her plans could play out perfectly now, "Why, yes; you've invaded my apartment twice now, and key or no key, I don't appreciate the intrusion, buddy."

For an odd reason she didn't know, he didn't fight her holding him down as he lifted his eyebrow even further up. "Oh, really?" he said, tone just as sarcastic as when she first met him. "Because if you had an issue with me coming into your apartment, couldn't you change your lock? Maybe blocked my door from the outside or even your door from the inside with a chair, probably that damned swivel one over there?"

"HEY! That's my swivel chair!" she snapped back, not appreciating the verbal treatment her new favorite piece of furniture was receiving from the Adonis— Well, actually, any chair acknowledged by him is a lucky one. Huh.

"Well?" he continued, ignoring her comment and reeling her back to Earth. "Why didn't you? Or did you spend all your time coming up with a stupid plan, like replaying an old scene from The Godfather with a cat and that specific swivel chair?"

…dammit.

"I did not," she insisted, forcing an unconvincing scowl to overcome her face. Seeing he wasn't believing her one bit, she snapped, "What are you, invading my home, feeling me up—"

"Feeling you up?" he asked, eyeing her topless chest for another time, this time actually figuring out why she was flustered. "Keh. I thought you were offering yourself up to me or something." She about choked, but he didn't pay any mind to her as he kept on talking casually. "This does explain why I was dreaming of boobs constantly, though."

Her head exploded.

After gathering up the pieces of her blown mind, she stared at him in disbelief. The jackass "trapped" beneath her—albeit a drool-worthy jackass, but still!—had the gall to be rude, steal her cookies, break into her home, make her have wet night dreams and daydreams, feel her up like it was nobody's business—though it was clearly theirs—INSULT HER SWIVEL CHAIR, and now accuse her of offering herself up to him?

Though she had to admit, giving any part of her to him wasn't anywhere close to a bad idea…

Whoa-ho. No. What? She puffed out air at that idea, in disbelief it would ever happen. She was not some whore—

Her rushed thoughts halted as she came to notice something very peculiar and the world stopped revolving.

…Were his hands really moving along her sides?

She glanced down, wide-eyed and in shock, staring at what she couldn't believe to be true. Was he really awake? Or was he now just screwing with her? No…if he were screwing with her, she'd be the happiest person alive. So what the hell was he doing? Was he some sort of tease, rapist, child molester—

Oh, wait; she remembered now: he was necrophiliac.

Pff, how could she forget?

She would've tapped her temple at the realization had his large, slightly calloused palms not continued their way up, grasping her breasts and making her gasp all over again at the electric sensation. A smirk moved across his lips as if he knew he held control over her—which he sort of did at this point, but still! She was an independent woman, dammit, and wouldn't allow herself to be some stranger's latest sex victim. Hoho, no, she wouldn't be that girl!

As he continued moving his hands on her chest, the arrogance in his self-assured grin made her want to smack him all over again. He was lucky it felt too damn good for her to move, or else she'd be slapping him to the lowest level of hell and back!

…Aw, hell, who was she kidding? She was the one who was hitting the jackpot in this situation; she really shouldn't complain unless she wanted to be tortured by the Kami further. As his touch seemed to deepen its effects into her skin, her lips parted involuntarily, and she let out a soft moan, hardly noticing when he moved around, undoing her bra successfully this time.

It was a quick fluid motion, making her wonder somewhere in the back of her mind exactly how skilled he was when it came to that, and the moment it was over, she found one of her eyes twitching from the sudden intrusion of privacy.

Her mind snapped back to reality when she found herself lying back on the floor underneath the godlike being, now towering over her and making her question whether she really wanted to remain an independent woman or not. He leaned himself down towards her, letting his hair brush over the bare skin of her torso, and she almost came right then and there.

Kami, WHY…?

Amazed that even his hair was causing her to ache with utter want and need, she let out another moan only to receive an amused chuckle in response. Furrowing her brows, she managed to snap in a somewhat irritated voice, "What's so funny, bud—"

His tongue flicked over her chest, tracing along up to her neck, cutting off her sentence and making her eyes go wide as her body froze in utter delight and wonder. His sharp canine nicked her skin lightly, though still enough to make her gasp, pondering over how every little thing he did seemed to make her wetter, beg for release, for more and more. And she could tell by the confident look on his face, how every move never once decreased her excitement, that it was as if he knew exactly what she wanted, what she needed, what she desired and required all along.

His tongue worked wonders on her flesh, and the librarian already felt inexperienced compared to him—and he just got started! He was doing so much more than she was, and yet, by the looks of it, wasn't exactly asking for anything back yet. But the question lingering in her mind now was how far was he going to take it…and how much further was she really going to let him go?

He picked up his head and stared at her with his passionate, aubergine-colored irises. "Tell me, Kagome, have you been dreaming about me?" he asked in a deep, smooth, sultry voice, teasing her while his fingers trailed along the curve of her body, skimming invisibly drawn lines that made her shiver with physical joy before dipping down into her shorts that matched her silk top.

Faintly noting he remembered her name, she didn't even have enough time to lie since her breath hitched in her throat blissfully, her shoulders rolling up in satisfaction as she bit on her lip harshly.

Holy gods, holy gods, holy gods, HOLY FUCKING GODS!

His fingers tantalizing ran up along the outside of her panties, feeling the arousal that had nearly soaked its way through and making her stomach tighten in a good way. "I think we both know the answer," he huffed almost inaudibly, pride still sugarcoating his captivating voice as his lips moved back down against her neck, his warm breath tickling her skin and near contact making her hum with anticipation.

Eyes closed tight, Kagome tried to keep her pulse under control—it would for sure ruin what was happening if she were to have a heart attack—all to no avail. She could hear the smirk in his voice that revealed he knew just how much he was affecting her, turning her insides to near Jell-O and rendering almost all her muscles useless. He knew just what he was doing to her, the jerk, and he was obviously not going to stop anytime soon—not that she exactly wanted him to. In fact, she could have easily stayed like this for the rest of her natural-born—

Her thoughts broke into small pieces until they turned into dust all over again when his fingers slowly pulled her panties aside, allowing his long digits to touch against her slick core and the air to hit everything that was warm and moist down there.

She knew his eyes were locked on her expression even as her eyes remained closed, almost glued shut. A shaky breath left her lips at the feeling he was giving her of just about everything, and her hips rocked upwards for a short second, hoping to create more contact between them. However, following her movements was a jolt of electricity that coursed through her body the moment his free hand gripped her hip and held her body down.

He was going to take control, and she wasn't giving any complaints.

Kagome took in a sharp gasp, feeling his fingers slip inside of her tight, inexperienced passage, and completely foreign to the feeling, she found herself cooing at the light sensation it gave her stomach. Her hands hesitantly moved over his chest, sinking into his thick, luscious hair, and she found herself grow even more turned on with how amazing it felt to run her fingers through his onyx strands. "Oh…" she panted out, feeling his fingers sink deeper inside of her in the same, short breath.

Her eyes opened again, just in time to watch his deliciously wet, apparently faultless tongue, one that she hoped would be just as skillful as his fingers, flick over his lips in hunger.

His mischievous smile then returned full-force as he leaned himself down to her again, continuing to work two of his digits in and out of her body tortuously slow, still turning her breathing pattern irregular and making her heart beat quicken. It pained her even more that she couldn't rock her hips into them since he was still holding them in place, but she could what she was given and moaned at his demonstrations.

"How does it feel?" he asked in a low, suggestive voice, running the very tip of his tongue along the line that defined her lower lip.

Now, that was definitely unfair.

She tried her best to shoot him a deadly look for that almost-kiss, but only succeeded in releasing more whimpers of pleasure.

He chuckled again, kissing down her neck and leaving trails of blaze as he went, her chest rising and falling unevenly as she unsuccessfully tried to maintain her breaths. He had nearly kissed her, and instead, the bastard only ran his perfect tongue over her lips—teasing her, the action being enough for her to smell the sweet scent of what was possibly peppermint on his breath, and to bring her so close to his face that she could practically see her reflection in his pearly white teeth.

Everything about this damned, very sexy man was perfect. It just wasn't fair.

His lips touched her stomach lightly, grazing along her heated flesh gently, as if trying to skim water without getting too wet. And that was when she realized where he was headed…

Her heart practically exploded through her sternum. So much for keeping my pulse under control…

She felt her shorts and her panties being slid off of her hips and then her legs before she could even blink; her chest swelled with anxiety at the motion, wondering if this was really the moment he'd do it—when it would happen. Was she really about to have Adonis himself go down on her? This was all a trick. It had to be. A sick, sick, sick, twisted, sadistic, unfair trick—

His tongue was then against the inside of her thigh, lapping at her skin and making her gasp and shiver with surprise and lust beyond comparison. She tightened her hands in his hair, almost begging for him to go on with what he was doing, and she moaned lowly only to receive yet another damn chuckle from him in response.

"Come now, Kagome…have patience." He grinned against her thigh, his fingers caressing along more unseen lines, setting her flesh on a sort of fervent, restless, and yet soothing fire.

She almost groaned at his words, whether it be from agony, need, or anger, she would probably never know. If only she could "cum". And patience? Hadn't she had enough patience with him already? How dare he tell her to have—

She gasped loudly, sure that even Shippou and his poor family downstairs had heard her as her breathing turned erratic, her gaze suddenly hazy and fogged. Through another self-pleased smirk, his tongue moved along the outer edges of her core, slipping between her lips and pressing lightly against her clit.

Although she was overridden with newfound covetousness and bliss, Kagome didn't know what to do; she had never had anything like this done to her before… Actually, come to think of it, she had never had this done to her before. Her old boyfriend had never even offered to—

Another thought interrupted, though her mind was scattered about her apartment by now, when she felt his tongue dip down to her entrance, slipping inside very slightly before coming back up. He sucked against her sensitive bud more, causing her to writhe in pleasure against the wood flooring, wondering how such small actions could create such warmth in her core. Screw the other thoughts, she decided, tossing her head back once his tongue clicked over her clit again. This would be all she would ever need.

She knew she should tell him to stop, that he wasn't allowed to invade her space, touch her, and satisfy her. She just knew she should…but who in their right mind ever would? With this god of a man lapping at her core, letting out a low moan every now and again, stroking her legs and sending an uncharted amount of pleasure through her body… See her point?

Kagome could have swore that she even felt a tingle of the peppermint that lingered on his breath, and it only added to the overload of inhuman stimulation he was providing her with, making her feel what seemed like everything and yet nothing but him down there at the same time. She managed to catch her breath when his lips moved away, kissing along the inside of her thigh once more whereas his fingers retook their place inside of her, thrusting in and out and stealing her ability to breathe all over again.

Her vision blurred for a short second when the tips of his magical digits brushed against a place inside of her that made her nearly orgasm right then and there. She was sure with a few more thrusts of his fingers, she'd be on cloud nine… No, screw cloud nine—she'd be on cloud sixty-nine.

A faint sound of a chime rang throughout her apartment, the number of strikes declaring it was officially one in the morning. No doubt they came from Kaede's grandfather clock next door she spotted earlier that afternoon.

Unfortunately for her, Inuyasha's head popped up at the sound of the rings, and a devilish smirk crossed over his succulent lips. His fingers stopped their motions and carefully left her body before he kissed his way back up her torso.

She was beyond confused, and her hips wanted to buck against his grasp like before. Was he about to give her what she secretly wanted, after all? Was it really going to happen?

"Don't finish without me. We'll continue this tomorrow," he commanded, running his lips over her jaw swiftly before easily standing up and beginning to walk away.

No…

No…

NO!

"No" was the only word that seemed to come to mind whereas he'd simply just stood up as if nothing ever happened and smirked at her again, the shine from her juices still on his lips and now probably on her jaw. And then, just as quickly as he seemed to always come in, he slipped out of her apartment with enough grace to make nearby dust bunnies cry.

She didn't even bother going after him; she wasted most of her effort just putting back on her clothes. Her legs felt numb, her body senseless, as if not reaching orgasm meant nothing else was worth feeling in the long run. Glancing back at the fridge that held her oden—and glancing at the stomach whose hunger no longer haunted her—she sighed before going to check her appearance in the bathroom. And the moment she looked in the mirror—

Dear Kami. It was a replay of this morning all over again.

How in the world did her hair get like this when she barely did anything? How?

Grumbling under her breath about stupid, teasing sex gods leaving their poor victims a hot mess, she combed through her hair as much as she could and straightened out her clothes in case she put them on wrong. Inspecting her appearance and nodding to herself again, she managed to walk towards the front door. She may've been too weak earlier, but ohhhh, boy, when she got to his apartment, she was going to give Inuyasha a piece of her—

"I HATE HIM!" Sango announced loudly, stomping into the apartment without much of a warning. Kagome mentally apologized to their somehow sleeping neighbors who survived the noise prior to her friend's arrival before turning to her flushed friend with mussed hair and no breath. "He's manipulative, flirty, conniving, perverted, everything I've ever wanted, and I HATE HIM."

"…Sango," Kagome chided in a normal voice to the woman raging past her already, looking over the girl's appearance with slight worry. "You're…naked." Well, technically naked and covered with Miroku's bed sheets, but what was the difference really? It was to be expected out of someone who just had sex, but…shouldn't Sango have at least grabbed her clothes?

"HATE HIM," the yoga trainer repeated, trudging into Kagome's bedroom and ignoring her friend's acknowledgement by slamming the door behind her.

And just as Kagome was about to speak again, a certain monastery dropout rushed past her, whining "Sangoooo! I didn't mean it!" and knocking on her bedroom door while only clad in briefs. Sango began shouting things back, Miroku insisting she got it all wrong, and Kagome was left in a mess all over again, standing idle in her doorway, wondering what to exactly do:

Sleep on the couch tonight and listen to the arguing, apparently reunited, nude couple while remembering what happened in the kitchen right by the living room, or sneak into Miroku's unlocked apartment that's filled with who knows what?

She'd rather not even think about it.

PP'S A/N: I'd totally understand if we got no reviews to this chapter concerning my writing, considering the citrus was the only good part, but we'd still appreciate feedback…even if you're bashing me. .' .,

AP'S A/N: I don't know if the citrus was that good. Though apparently "it's my specialty." Anywho folks…G-U-A-C-A-M-O-L-E.