Ta-da! It's finally here! Whew,
I can finally breathe! Firstly,
I think all those people who
still remained faithful and
patient deserve a huge THANK
YOU. I realize it takes nearly
a century for me to update, so
I appreciate all the emails and
reviews. Once again, be sure to
critique and email me.
Disclaimer: Yep, still don't own
Sailor Moon. Neither do I own
the Incredible Hulk nor those
munchkins from the Wizard of Oz.
To each character their
respective owners.
Chronicle Six
To be quite frank, I felt like someone had repeatedly
bludgeoned me with a satchel of cement bricks. Undoubtedly,
while I critically inspected my pale, utterly sorry looking face,
I looked like I had suffered such an experience.
With the assistance of an excellent lubricant, (and no,
not that type you gutter minded folk) I had managed to squeeze
my plump bottom into my office chair and set out to perfect a
marketing presentation for an important client who, as my boss
gracefully claimed, "Ate, drank, and shit money."
So commendable was my work ethic that I even forced
myself to endure the janitors' late night song and dance routines,
sometimes complete with frilly, brightly colored costumes.
Inject shiver. Mr. Kamito's imitations of Ricky Martin's derriere
sashays continued to vividly haunt my memories.
Scary. How utterly scary.
Truly, I deserved the 'Employee of the Decade' award for
surviving such frightening prospects. Especially when four
custodians had donned outfits that oddly resembled those of the
Village People and began to wildly prance to the beats of 'YMCA.'
So, as Fate would have it, just as I was about to collapse
happily onto the plush covers of my beckoning bed, the portable
phone rang. Angrily, I stared at the ringing contraption,
hopefully willing it into silence with the ugliness of my look.
When it did not heed my silent warnings, I reached over and
snarled nastily, "Yeah?"
"And good evening to you, Sunshine!" giggled Mina, sounding
far too happy and well rested to me, who had only received less
than 12 hours of sleep in the past two weeks.
"Seeing that I have acquired more, highly unattractive
wrinkles than an elephant, this had better be good. No, wait, let
me rephrase that. Pretty damn good," I negatively growled, happily
imagining myself reaching through the phone line and wringing her
oblivious neck.
"You wouldn't mind if the girls and I stopped over, would
you?"
"Yes, I would, actually! I'm nearly falling over from
fatigue, and I'm hardly in the hostess mo—," I paused in mid tirade
when the doorbell rang. Closing my eyes and muttering a trillion
Hail Mary's for my murderous thoughts, I choked out, "You wouldn't
happen to be standing at my door?"
"Uhh…no?"
Without bothering to respond, I carelessly hurled the
telephone across the room and raced to the entrance. I had my own
strong suspicions exactly who, or more accurately a group of whom,
was waiting on the other side.
My door flung open, revealing me, (tada!) who was glaring
quite frightening. "You don't realize how hard it is to battle
against the temptation of strangling each and every one of you
right now."
"Told you she was in a glorious mood," murmured Mina,
nervously edging away when I fiercely nailed her with a death-
inducing glance.
"I am going to slam this door shut unless I hear a damn
good reason why my precious sleep was so rudely interrupted."
"Wow…you really should do something about those dark
circles. It looks like someone gave you two, nasty black eyes,"
sincerely observed Lita. As she leaned forward to poke and examine
my scrunched face, she was immediately pulled back by an observant
Rei, who noted my tightening expression.
"Thanks for elegantly pointing that out," I fumed. Honestly,
did I need someone else to point out that I looked like something
the cat dragged in! Inject annoyed growl.
"Mind if we come in?"
"Yes."
I relished the confused pause. Yes, I realize I can be purely
evil. Isn't it wonderful?
"But we have a present for you!" chirped Ami, dangling the gift
bag like a marinated steak. My eyes instantly followed its pendulum
like swung, and my body was consumed by that childish impulse to
lunge at it. That feeling was very reminiscent of my wolfish behavior
on Christmas morning as a child.
Luckily, I fought against that magnetic sensation, and snapped,
"How exciting. I'm riveted, really I am. Come back tomorrow."
Before I could even savor the satisfaction of slamming the door
in their faces, (I realize I was acting beyond genteel, but it was the
lack of sleep talking, not sweet, angelic me!) Rei, with her customary
air of bossiness, dryly laughed.
"Listen here, Meatball Head, we did not drive over here to waste
our gas, especially with those monstrous prices." With that explanatory
comment, she immediately strode forward, valiantly fighting a growing
grin when she observed my bewildered face. Nodding and murmuring
their agreement, the rest of my dearly beloved, soon to be departed
friends scrambled in suit, each woman trying not to be at the back
of the huddle. They fearfully whispered among themselves of the strange
gleam in my eyes and the possibility of me transforming into the
Incredible Hulk. Snapping out of my amazed trance, I flounced after
the murmuring pack.
Some would compliment their faithfulness, but I simply denounced
it as annoying persistence.
"Sit down, sit down," clucked Mother Hen Ami, pulling me beside
her and affectionately slipping her arm through mine.
Before I could bitch about their discourtesy, Mina skipped to
the center of my living room, cleared her throat, and began in a
ridiculously dramatic voice, "Seeing how diligently you have worked on
that marketing presentation, the girls and I decided to reward your
efforts with a gift from our hearts. Let us hope it fulfills its uses."
Somehow, the others found her last comment highly amusing, for
much to my irritation, they dissolved into high pitched peals of
laughter. At once, they exploded into thunderous applause and hoots,
seemingly dazzled by her words. Lita kicked my feet to signal that I
should mirror their actions, but I positively refused to partake in
their insanity.
Such strange creatures. I often wondered how I wound up with
such an odd lot.
"Oh, for Pete's sake, can you stop it already!" I cried after
five minutes of consecutive clapping. Shaking her head at my impatient
outburst, my fair friend glided forward, sweepingly bowed, and deposited
a glittery, lavender gift bag into my unexpected lap.
Sighing rather loudly, I began to sift through the contents,
which thus far consisted mainly of tissue paper. And even more tissue
paper, I noted with furrowed eyebrows. Whatever this present was, it
was buried by at least twenty five pounds of tissue paper. Finally,
I gingerly reached for something neon pink near the bottom of the gift
bag.
I was rendered utterly speechless. It was…
"Only five speed?" I feigned a disappointed expression,
clutching at my heart as if in physical agony.
"Amazing. I didn't realize you were such an insatiable horn
dog," commented Ami in astonishment, adjusting her glasses to closely
scrutinize me. Shocked by the uncharacteristic remark, I chortled at
her reaction and at the ludicrous gift my wacky gaggle had purchased.
"All right, you guys managed to somewhat cheer me up, stop
smiling like braggarts."
"I believe Darien Junior was just what the doctor ordered,"
declared Mina happily.
Upon hearing her casual slip, I actually choked on my own
saliva, and began to cough violently. Lita's protective instincts
suddenly reared their motherly head as she repeatedly whacked me on
the back, bellowing 'breathe!' in a commanding voice.
"Come again?" I gasped after I barely recovered.
"It shouldn't be such a surprise! Seeing that you already
have an insane crush on the actual gentleman, Darien Junior seemed
only appropriate," hastily explained my blonde friend, rounding my
quaint dining table when she noted my hands tightly clench.
"Firstly, twenty nine year old women do not develop childish
'crushes!' Secondly, I do not have a crush on Darien!"
"Would obsession be a better term?" Ami thoughtfully
suggested.
"This is ridiculous! I have no feelings for Darien,
whatsoever."
"What about lust?"
"Lust isn't an emotion," I quickly quipped, blushing at
the appearance of their smug grins. "Stop smiling like that."
"Then, pray tell, what is lust?"
"Err…the bodily demonstration of hormones gone bonkers,
of course."
Reference: Page 165 of Serena's Dictionary.
*Note: Disregard Webster's version*
The definition sounded genuine enough, I mentally
commended myself.
"Unfortunately, you couldn't be more wrong. Lust is the
basis for many relationships."
"Fortunately, I have no intentions of even forming the base
of a relationship with Darien."
"Keep your shirt buttoned, Meatball Head. We were only
teasing," Rei soothed, clasping my hands with hers.
Haughtily tossing my ponytail over my shoulder, I nonchalantly
replied, "Quite right, the sheer possibility of Darien and I
getting together is laughable enough."
"Before the Blonde Bombshell detonates, why don't we head
back home, troop?" forcibly proposed Rei before love guru Mina could
comment.
"Great idea, I'm about to fall over from fatigue," I
smothered a yawn.
"Girls, you wouldn't believe it! Yesterday, I met the most
wonderful man at the grocery store!" chattered Lita. In her state
of excitement, she rattled the frail Ami like a rag doll as she
skipped to the door.
"Let me guess, he reminded you of your old boyfriend?" I
quipped solemnly, biting my lip to keep from releasing a shout of
laughter when she glanced wondrously at me.
"How did you know that?"
"Wild guess, of course."
"As amazing as her powers of deduction are, I'm afraid we
must be going. Now," Rei insistently tugged on Lita's leather
purse, shaking her head disapprovingly at my wicked sense of humor.
"Thanks for the gift!" I shouted after their disappearing
figures. With an exhausted sigh, I trudged back to my bedroom,
and promptly collapsed into a nearly death like slumber.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded, fixing an admittedly
rude look upon the approaching Darien. With his slate gray business
suit perfectly outlining his broad shoulders and narrow waist, he
looked every bit the suave, utterly gorgeous businessman, I grumpily
noted through lowered eyelashes.
"I was invited to lunch with the girls today, if you must
know," listlessly explained Darien, placing his briefcase on the chair
beside me. As he shrugged off his jacket and loosened his silk,
periwinkle tie, my mouth positively watered when I instantly noted
the defined muscles rippling beneath his impeccably starched, white
dress shirt.
Bad Serena: Take it off, take it off!
Good Serena: I got a dollar!
Bad Serena: Isn't that supposed to be my line?
I shook my head, as if trying to mentally rouse my dormant
common sense. He was even infecting my morally opposing hosts!
Honestly, what was wrong with me?
"Oh? And by whom?"
"If I'm not mistaken, it was Lita."
I muttered something about where the loyalties of true
friends lay before returning to my menu, trying to ignore his warm
presence when he occupied the seat beside me. After a few seconds,
I sneaked a glance, only to find the insufferable jerk staring quite
openly at me. Much to my annoyance, my heart leapt out of my chest,
and suddenly my hormones began to perform the 'shagging' ritual.
Realizing my face continued to resemble a tomato more and more as
the seconds ticked by, I purposefully shielded myself with the
laminated menu.
Stupid, stupid Serena. Stop acting so daft! My mental
chastisements were interrupted by rich, velvety laughter.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing."
Uneasily, (well, only on my part, the exasperating jerk
looked perfectly composed) we placed our orders with yet another,
susceptible schoolgirl of a waitress. Thrice, I had to repeat my
order because she was too preoccupied with displaying her basketball
twins to listen to my requests for a grilled chicken Caesar salad.
Women.
Arms crossed across my chest, I watched as Darien's eye
momentarily followed after the seductive waitress before returning
my disapprovingly glare.
"What is it now, sweetheart?"
"I'm not your sweetheart, mister. And I was just reminded
of men's innate ability to act like pigs."
Once we received our orders, Darien thoughtfully commented,
"I don't think I'll ever understand you."
"Did I ask for you to understand me?" I retorted, deliberately
turning my head opposite of his direction.
He chose that timely moment to chuckle quietly. Deducing
that I was the object of his amusement, I glowered threateningly and
demanded, "Will you stop laughing at me?"
"I don't think you realize how adorable you are," he casually
lifted a hand to my blushing cheeks. Propping an elbow on the table,
he slowly leaned towards me, sensually stroking my high cheekbones.
That finger slowly traveled south to trace my bottom lip, undoubtedly
rubbing off my already fading lipstick. My tongue, moving on its own
accord, sneaked out to wet my suddenly dry mouth, but in turn, licked
his probing finger. His eyes, watching the entire display with heavy
lids, flew up to meet my wide ones. For several, impossibly long moments,
he gazed piercingly at me, as if trying to decide how to respond to my
wanton actions. Moving, let alone breathing properly, was out of
question, as I found myself rooted to my chair. I believe that I tried
to speak, but embarrassingly enough, it sounded like unintelligible
gurgles.
My eyes closed fittingly when I felt his breath brush against
my parting lips. I was bombarded with the sensations of strong fingers
outlining the cups of my bra, a lush mouth nuzzling my ears.
Heavens, I wanted that man to kiss me senseless and much, much
more.
And just as I admitted that to myself, my evil, useless cell
phone sprang to life with a digital interpretation of the Sugar Plum
Fairy sequence.
"Damn it!" I muttered rather loudly, my trembling fingers
fumbling for my pocketbook. Since I am a nimble person and I am
capable of conducting myself appropriately, I happened to knock over
my purse in the hapless process, spilling all the contents onto the
table.
"Damn it!" this time, I shouted my frustration. Hastily, I
shoved makeup compacts, random receipts, breakfast bars, and candy
wrappers back into my shoulder bag, pleading with every deity that
entered my mind for just one, uninterrupted minute.
"I'm assuming that this is yours?"
"Thank y—eek!" I screeched, flailing my arms as I leapt out
of my seat, my face contorted with absolute horror.
"Sorry we're late, traffic was a pure monster!" announced
Rei, completely unaware of my present situation. Scrutinizing her
closer, I reconsidered her innocence.
"Serena? What's wrong, honey?" demanded Lita, but her
inquiries were instantly hushed when she noted the line of my
vision.
"How the HELL did that get in my purse!" I shouted, wildly
pointing to a painfully familiar neon pink object embedded in
Darien's pasta. Averting a half furious, half mortified stare to
my guilty gaggle of former comrades, I repeated my question with a
double measure of pure, feminine rage.
"Hughes, calm down," Darien soothed, his hands rubbing the
stiff muscles of my back with infinite care.
"Calm down? I think it's going to take at least two weeks
before my face returns to its normal color! Just look at that…at
that…!" I stuttered idiotically, grasping for the appropriate phrase.
I wasn't certain who the culprit was, but I distinctively
heard someone murmur 'penis pasta.' My eyes narrowed, trying to
discern the brave comedian in the making.
"Oh, very clever! I didn't think you girls were capable
of something so underhanded, so despicable! Clearly," gesturing
to the horrifying evidence, "I was wrong!"
"I'm sure it began as an innocent joke, no harm intended.
Besides, it's not as if I was born yesterday, Hughes. I am
aware that plenty of healthy, attractive women use similar..," he
quickly groped for a suitable word, "instruments to keep alive.
Really, it's not something to get riled about. Here, by the way,"
he nudged me and discreetly offered me the pleasure oriented
contraption.
"Excuse me, but I do not use that…that instrument to keep
me alive, thank you very much!" I snapped. Snatching the cleaned
vibrator out of his grasp, I quickly shoved it into my pocketbook
while I surreptitiously surveyed the entire restaurant for onlookers.
Luckily, everybody was too concerned with their own food to worry
about a particular, half crazed blonde and her vibrator troubles.
Somehow, that oddly comforted me.
"Darien's absolutely right. How about we all sit down,
like normal adults, and enjoy our lunch break?" placidly suggested
Ami, elegantly sliding into her usual seat while silently imploring
me with her convincing, indigo eyes.
"Easy for you to say," I muttered, but obeyed her plea for
harmony. Cautiously, as if expecting me to explode and lash out
randomly, the others slowly seated themselves. Out of the corner
of my eye, I could see Rei visually tracing the route for the
nearest fire escape should I do something deliciously horrible like
attack her with my fork and spoon. Mina was ever so slightly moving
her seat closer to Lita, clearly hoping that the brunette would
shield her from any attacks.
"So, what should I order?" questioned Rei.
"Spaghetti sounds good today. I've been craving that for
weeks now," Lita babbled while she curiously noted Mina pressed
closely to her armrest, ducked down in the strangest defensive
stance.
"Good idea."
"You guys all set with your orders?" the waitress returned,
fluttering her eyelashes at a grinning Darien. I rolled my eyes,
the pig. And to think I actually wished he would kiss me senseless.
Was I taking wrongly prescribed medication?
Bad Serena: Would overactive hormones be considered a medication?
Me: Oh, shaddup!
Darien did not turn me on, damn it! How many times did I
need to remind my sex deprived body that? So what if his shoulders
were wonderfully broad, especially in those tailored business suits?
So what if his hands were just the most enticing combination of
callused tenderness? So what if I was fighting against the headiest
urge to leap into his lap, rip off that beautiful Ralph Lauren suit,
and ravage the poor man until he and I couldn't walk for a week?
Disgusted with myself, I took a wholly unfeminine swig of
my water and monstrously burped out my frustrations.
"Bravo," he quietly commented, while the others, waitress
included, stared openly at me.
Hardly caring of their quite obvious thoughts, I defiantly
drained the remaining drops in my glass. After the vibrator
incident, what else could possibly match that?
"I'll take your penis pasta," Rei decided from behind her
menu.
Well, that remark slid in as a close second.
Quickly registering what actually slipped out of her mouth,
she actually gasped in pure shock, and stammered stupidly to correct
herself. "I mean, er, just pasta! No penis included. Ouch! I
mean, yes, spaghetti and meatballs. By balls, I mean—OUCH!" After
she finally choked out an innuendo free order, she glared at Lita,
whose lips was twitching suspiciously. Then, ever so warily, she
swiveled her gaze to me. If it wasn't for Ami-the-Pacifist, who was
trying her best to act mature about the damn situation, I would have
reached into my purse and easily whacked her over the head with very
object she found so hilarious. Darien made no attempts to even hide
his amusement, as he laughed outright at the former priestess'
wonderful ability to dig herself into deep, pain promising cavities.
"Stop glaring at me, it was a sincere accident!" Rei argued.
"The penis pasta slip up or placing my 'gift' in my purse?"
"The penis slip up, of course!"
"So you deliberately staged the entire vibrator spaghetti
scenario!"
"Stop placing words in my mouth! I never said that!"
"Oh? Exactly what are you trying to say?"
My, wasn't I on a roll? I definitely picked up a few
pointers from Dad, having been interrogated by him numerous times
for being caught red handedly sneaking into my own house. Somehow,
he was highly doubtful of the possibility of me sleepwalking.
Perhaps the heavy makeup and the outrageously miniscule amount of
clothing I was wearing were a giveaway.
Mina, sensing her desperation and my bloodlust, reached
over, patted her on the back, and advised piteously, "Why don't you
just quit while you're ahead?"
"Stop acting like such a child, Hughes," a silky baritone
purred in my ear. As I prepared a witty retort to his gentle
chastisement, I felt a familiar hand encircle the nape of my neck,
applying just the perfect bit of pressure to send stimulating thrills
down my spine. But instead of leaning into his warmth, I shrugged
off his touch and bristled like a raging wolf.
"It wasn't the least bit funny! To be perfectly honest, it
was quite embarrassing!" I angrily corrected him, stamping my foot to
display my extreme sophistication.
"Oh?"
"Oh, I'm sure it's just hilarious to you, Mr. I'm-the-Most-
Wanted-Bachelor-in-Tokyo! Isn't just hysterical that I, Serena Hughes,
need a vibrator to survive a sorry excuse of a love life? Well," I
abruptly turned to face Darien, who had been quietly trailing behind
me while I loudly ranted, and poked his broad chest repeatedly, "you
couldn't be more wrong! I don't need a plastic, neon pink pleasure
toy to get my kicks!"
Several onlookers momentarily paused mid-step and overtly
gawked at my rather explicit exclamation. One senior citizen, who
had been hobbling about on her cane, shouted at me to display some
decency in public, but immediately shut up once I threatened to
filch her walking stick.
Annoying Inner Voice: So you sunk that low to insult old,
defenseless ladies?
Damn straight.
"There's nothing wrong with that, I'd say it's only
natural. And besides, I don't believe you're pathetic at all.
Far from pathetic, actually," he grinned, and trapped my hand
between his own and his muscular chest.
"Please, lying doesn't suit you, Langston. I recommend for
you to remain obnoxiously truthful," I scornfully advised, watching
in half horror, half excitement when he lifted my hand and brushed
his extremely wicked lips against my knuckles. I nearly fainted
on the bustling streets of Tokyo when his delicious mouth slid across
my fingers and softly kissed the tips of my fingers. Faintly, I
heard several female bystanders sigh dreamily.
Startled wouldn't even describe my emotions when I ripped
my stare from his roving lips and found a decent crowd of half
drooling women surrounding us. One lady, luxuriously lost in a mink
coat, whacked her balding husband with her Gucci purse and, while
irately indicating to Darien, demanded, "Why can't you be more like
him!"
Blushing furiously, I tugged at my hand and fiercely whispered,
"Let go of me!"
"What ever is the matter, Hughes? First, you complain how men
are so insensitive, but you still carp when one does shower you with
attention."
"Yes, but this wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I complained
of sensitivity!" I said through gritted teeth. With one, monstrous effort,
I liberated my thoroughly lavished hand, which was still tingling from
the sensuality of his butterfly kisses, and frowned fiercely to mask the
urge to launch myself (naked!) into his arms.
Refusing to make eye contact, I resumed my journey back to the
office.
"As I said before, I don't think I'll ever understand you," he
reflected. Rejecting the tempting inclination to mutter something
vulgar, I continued to weave through the masses, pointedly ignoring
his much unwanted presence.
Serena's rampart hormones: Who the hell said unwanted?
Serena's highly intelligent mind: I did, you buffoons!
"Good, then stop trying."
"What is your problem against me, Hughes, and men for that
matter?" demanded Darien, evidently my attitude finally cracking
through his composed exterior. Lifting an eyebrow, I propped myself
against a traffic pole, waiting for the pedestrian crossing sign
to blink.
"I just don't understand why you enjoy bothering me with
pointless questions."
"Such as…?"
"Well…err…, you know!" I sputtered, averting my eyes when
his wintry blue gaze became particularly piercing. As we waited
in a contemplative silence, he continued to regard me with
growing intensity, his eyes seeming to melt my frigid façade.
I almost 'eeped' when Darien abruptly leaned forward, his
powerful hands resting lightly on my outstretched elbow.
"Actually, I haven't a clue to what you're talking about.
Why don't you enlighten me?" he rasped, never breaking his
commanding stare as his feathery touch slowly slid from
my elbow, down my goose bumped covered forearm, and halted at
my trembling fingers. His hands began to weave through mine,
and I watched in fascination as his thumb began to gently
massage mine in an alluring, circular motion.
"You know, those questions about women that never
cease to puzzle men!"
"Is it wrong to be interested in the way that you,
Serena Hughes, think? Because really, it just shows my
growing fascination with you," he smiled broadly, breaking
every statute of personal space as he leaned in impossibly
close. Out of the corner of my eye, the Fates demonstrated
some mercy and decided at that moment that the traffic light
would change from green to red. Too inexperienced to
properly handle his flustering attentions, I slipped out
of his embrace and began to immerse myself with the crowd.
"Can't stand there forever!" I said, shrugging in
convincingly feigned innocence when Darien reappeared at my
side.
"Why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"That!"
"What's that?" I deliberately dodged his question, knowing
full and well exactly what he was referring to: my cowardly
ways. But, not in any way, shape, or condition was I
capable of facing him, my friends, my opposing entities, my
heart. After all, I was a Class One Coward, and if need be,
bitch.
"Save me your blonde bimbo routine. You're too
intelligent for that, Hughes."
"Look Langston, I enjoyed this heart to heart, honestly,
I did. But, lunch break is nearly over and my bear of a
boss is probably standing right outside my office door,
waiting for my arrival. Why don't you follow in suit, call
a cab, and get to work?" I breezily suggested, patting his
forearm to signal my departure.
"You have exactly thirteen minutes," Darien blocked my
heavenly escape route, for all I needed to do was follow
the yellow brick road straight through those revolving
doors. Images of brightly dressed munchkins literally
danced through head, as they sang in high pitched voices to
that easily recognizable tune. Unfortunately, the Wicked Jerk
of the Oriental East was hindering my runaway, and there was
no possibly way of squeezing my voluminous curves past.
"And…?"
"We're going to talk."
"Who says?"
"I say, you saucy little minx."
"You have absolutely no authority over me, Langston.
I'm not another employee at your Daddy's company," and without
indulging him with a single glance behind, I strode purposefully
into to the building and boarded the empty elevator. Mentally,
I cheered louder at a football stadium during the Superbowl,
which is a fairly commendable feat, at my wittiness, at my luck,
at just how wonderfully I shoved Darien's arrogance down his own
throat.
Serena, Superwoman. Wooo, I thoroughly enjoyed the sound
of that.
Serena, the Sensational. Wow, lightening almost struck me,
that nickname sounded so damn…sensational.
As more monikers bombarded my mind, the two doors that
began to slide shut immediately swung back open when an expensive,
Italian leather shoe squeezed in between. Gawking, I wordlessly
watched as Darien sauntered into the elevator, hit that forbidden
red button, and glued me to my very spot with his intense gaze.
"We're going to talk, right now," he announced.
"What is the matter with you? I need to get back to work,
my boss has a tendency to send out a search and rescue even if you're
only a minute late!" I reminded him. Tossing my chignon in his face,
I leaned forward to push that same red button to resume my voyage
back to my office. Unfortunately, I was rendered useless when
Darien grabbed my arm with little force and pressed me against the
wall. Too flabbergasted to speak, I gaped up at his alarmingly
handsome face.
"You've displayed the worst table manners in front of me, and
weren't the least bit embarrassed. But lo and behold, a vibrator
should slip into my main course, and you're mortified."
"I think a vibrator is a bit more shocking than burping!"
"Some women might beg to differ."
"Some women are not in their right minds."
"That's very traitorous of you to admit."
"Eh, if the shoe fits."
"I think that you were implicitly revealing something, out
when you were ranting about your shortcomings."
"Will you stop saying that, already? Your thinking is completely
bonkers! I could care less of your opinion of me!"
"Then explain your previous comments about me, 'the eligible
bachelor', laughing at you, the supposed 'pathetic single girl,' because
you own a vibrator?"
I did open my mouth to protest, to deny, to cleverly comment at
least. But even if the livelihood of future generations lay on my
shoulders, I couldn't have concocted a response! A gurgle, even.
Immediately, I closed my O-shaped mouth, not wanting to appear any more
an idiot than already possible.
Damn it, he was absolutely right. I did actually place some value
on the bastard's thoughts and opinions, more than I truly liked to admit.
But his over inflated ego did not need another dosage of helium, and I
was not willing to provide that extra dosage.
"And what about your unexplained bouts of jealousy?" he demanded,
his hands beginning to trace down the ridges of my spine. I shivered,
despite myself. Uneasily, I began to slide out of his embrace, but
upon noting this, he only pulled me closer.
"I…I…," I stammered, feeling my face grow red at his knowing
touch.
"And what about this ridiculous temptation for me to kiss you?"
he menacingly demanded. To that, I had no clever response, but that
was hardly necessary seeing that he crushed my lips with his own.
At first, I was ever resistant, both to shocked and angered by his
audacious tactics. Sensing this, he pressed a warm hand to the
small of my back and outlined my entire mouth with his wonderful
tongue. With a surrendering sigh on my part, he invaded my mouth
with sensual flicks of his tongue, and I could only arch
encouragingly against his muscular body. His other hand tugged
on my chignon, urging my head back. By doing this, he continued
to kiss me another angle that left me completely open to the hot
onslaught of his wet tongue and knowing hands.
I never had such a strong conviction for the afterlife until
then, because I was certain I was in heaven.
My hands wrapped around his neck, my tongue was completely
consumed with battling against his. I felt his skillful touch
glide over the curve of my hip and up my ribcage, and finally,
to my chest. One large hand engulfed my left breast, while his
thrumb lightly rubbed my hardening nipple, evident through my
white, silk blouse. As electricity spread like a wild fire in a
dry savanna throughout my body, I pressed into his touch and
groaned into his mouth, increasing the speed of my dueling tongue.
Suddenly, I wanted to be in my bedroom, instead of this the
Dratted elevator. Rather on the bed, rather than pressed against
the cold metal of the elevator wall. But when his thumb began to
massage faster, all thoughts were lost.
It seemed like an eternity when we finally untangled ourselves.
I was breathing heavily, I felt like I had just finished a five
Kilometer race instead of senselessly kissing the very man who had
once been my sworn enemy. Feminine pride surged when I observed
Darien's flushed face and equally labored breathing, he was clearly
as affected by the quite explicit kiss as I was. I had been kissed
plenty before, more frogs than anything remotely prince material,
but that…that exchange between Darien and I would remain in a
class by itself.
For a few seconds, we were silent, too shocked and aroused
to shatter the hot moment with pointless words. I had released
probably twenty nine years of pent up sexual frustration in that
one kiss, and my hormones and lips were prepared to repeat the
entire incident once again. Finally, Darien approached me again.
Leaning down, he tenderly brushed his lips against my swollen ones,
and murmured, "I'm going to call you this Saturday. Be sure to
keep your schedule and line open, Hughes."
I nodded and gulped audibly. He smiled another heart
melting smile, pressed that crimson knob, and departed from my
particularly horny presence.
News at six o'clock: Unknown blonde, claimed to be foaming at
the mouth, is seen chasing after a cluster of four women. If the
offender is caught, she could be charged for carrying a weapon
without a license. Keep a lookout, she is armed and dangerous.
Whew, I think that is probably one of
my most descriptive kissing scenes to
date. I was a little hesitant writing
it, to be honest. But, once again,
tell me, dear readers, your reaction.
::runs for pom poms. Adopts cheerleader-
esque smile::
Give me a R!
R!
Give me an E!
E!
Give me a V!
V!
Give me an I!
I!
Give me a E!
E!
Give me a W!
W!
What's that spell?
REVIEW! WOOOHOO!
[email protected]
I can finally breathe! Firstly,
I think all those people who
still remained faithful and
patient deserve a huge THANK
YOU. I realize it takes nearly
a century for me to update, so
I appreciate all the emails and
reviews. Once again, be sure to
critique and email me.
Disclaimer: Yep, still don't own
Sailor Moon. Neither do I own
the Incredible Hulk nor those
munchkins from the Wizard of Oz.
To each character their
respective owners.
Chronicle Six
To be quite frank, I felt like someone had repeatedly
bludgeoned me with a satchel of cement bricks. Undoubtedly,
while I critically inspected my pale, utterly sorry looking face,
I looked like I had suffered such an experience.
With the assistance of an excellent lubricant, (and no,
not that type you gutter minded folk) I had managed to squeeze
my plump bottom into my office chair and set out to perfect a
marketing presentation for an important client who, as my boss
gracefully claimed, "Ate, drank, and shit money."
So commendable was my work ethic that I even forced
myself to endure the janitors' late night song and dance routines,
sometimes complete with frilly, brightly colored costumes.
Inject shiver. Mr. Kamito's imitations of Ricky Martin's derriere
sashays continued to vividly haunt my memories.
Scary. How utterly scary.
Truly, I deserved the 'Employee of the Decade' award for
surviving such frightening prospects. Especially when four
custodians had donned outfits that oddly resembled those of the
Village People and began to wildly prance to the beats of 'YMCA.'
So, as Fate would have it, just as I was about to collapse
happily onto the plush covers of my beckoning bed, the portable
phone rang. Angrily, I stared at the ringing contraption,
hopefully willing it into silence with the ugliness of my look.
When it did not heed my silent warnings, I reached over and
snarled nastily, "Yeah?"
"And good evening to you, Sunshine!" giggled Mina, sounding
far too happy and well rested to me, who had only received less
than 12 hours of sleep in the past two weeks.
"Seeing that I have acquired more, highly unattractive
wrinkles than an elephant, this had better be good. No, wait, let
me rephrase that. Pretty damn good," I negatively growled, happily
imagining myself reaching through the phone line and wringing her
oblivious neck.
"You wouldn't mind if the girls and I stopped over, would
you?"
"Yes, I would, actually! I'm nearly falling over from
fatigue, and I'm hardly in the hostess mo—," I paused in mid tirade
when the doorbell rang. Closing my eyes and muttering a trillion
Hail Mary's for my murderous thoughts, I choked out, "You wouldn't
happen to be standing at my door?"
"Uhh…no?"
Without bothering to respond, I carelessly hurled the
telephone across the room and raced to the entrance. I had my own
strong suspicions exactly who, or more accurately a group of whom,
was waiting on the other side.
My door flung open, revealing me, (tada!) who was glaring
quite frightening. "You don't realize how hard it is to battle
against the temptation of strangling each and every one of you
right now."
"Told you she was in a glorious mood," murmured Mina,
nervously edging away when I fiercely nailed her with a death-
inducing glance.
"I am going to slam this door shut unless I hear a damn
good reason why my precious sleep was so rudely interrupted."
"Wow…you really should do something about those dark
circles. It looks like someone gave you two, nasty black eyes,"
sincerely observed Lita. As she leaned forward to poke and examine
my scrunched face, she was immediately pulled back by an observant
Rei, who noted my tightening expression.
"Thanks for elegantly pointing that out," I fumed. Honestly,
did I need someone else to point out that I looked like something
the cat dragged in! Inject annoyed growl.
"Mind if we come in?"
"Yes."
I relished the confused pause. Yes, I realize I can be purely
evil. Isn't it wonderful?
"But we have a present for you!" chirped Ami, dangling the gift
bag like a marinated steak. My eyes instantly followed its pendulum
like swung, and my body was consumed by that childish impulse to
lunge at it. That feeling was very reminiscent of my wolfish behavior
on Christmas morning as a child.
Luckily, I fought against that magnetic sensation, and snapped,
"How exciting. I'm riveted, really I am. Come back tomorrow."
Before I could even savor the satisfaction of slamming the door
in their faces, (I realize I was acting beyond genteel, but it was the
lack of sleep talking, not sweet, angelic me!) Rei, with her customary
air of bossiness, dryly laughed.
"Listen here, Meatball Head, we did not drive over here to waste
our gas, especially with those monstrous prices." With that explanatory
comment, she immediately strode forward, valiantly fighting a growing
grin when she observed my bewildered face. Nodding and murmuring
their agreement, the rest of my dearly beloved, soon to be departed
friends scrambled in suit, each woman trying not to be at the back
of the huddle. They fearfully whispered among themselves of the strange
gleam in my eyes and the possibility of me transforming into the
Incredible Hulk. Snapping out of my amazed trance, I flounced after
the murmuring pack.
Some would compliment their faithfulness, but I simply denounced
it as annoying persistence.
"Sit down, sit down," clucked Mother Hen Ami, pulling me beside
her and affectionately slipping her arm through mine.
Before I could bitch about their discourtesy, Mina skipped to
the center of my living room, cleared her throat, and began in a
ridiculously dramatic voice, "Seeing how diligently you have worked on
that marketing presentation, the girls and I decided to reward your
efforts with a gift from our hearts. Let us hope it fulfills its uses."
Somehow, the others found her last comment highly amusing, for
much to my irritation, they dissolved into high pitched peals of
laughter. At once, they exploded into thunderous applause and hoots,
seemingly dazzled by her words. Lita kicked my feet to signal that I
should mirror their actions, but I positively refused to partake in
their insanity.
Such strange creatures. I often wondered how I wound up with
such an odd lot.
"Oh, for Pete's sake, can you stop it already!" I cried after
five minutes of consecutive clapping. Shaking her head at my impatient
outburst, my fair friend glided forward, sweepingly bowed, and deposited
a glittery, lavender gift bag into my unexpected lap.
Sighing rather loudly, I began to sift through the contents,
which thus far consisted mainly of tissue paper. And even more tissue
paper, I noted with furrowed eyebrows. Whatever this present was, it
was buried by at least twenty five pounds of tissue paper. Finally,
I gingerly reached for something neon pink near the bottom of the gift
bag.
I was rendered utterly speechless. It was…
"Only five speed?" I feigned a disappointed expression,
clutching at my heart as if in physical agony.
"Amazing. I didn't realize you were such an insatiable horn
dog," commented Ami in astonishment, adjusting her glasses to closely
scrutinize me. Shocked by the uncharacteristic remark, I chortled at
her reaction and at the ludicrous gift my wacky gaggle had purchased.
"All right, you guys managed to somewhat cheer me up, stop
smiling like braggarts."
"I believe Darien Junior was just what the doctor ordered,"
declared Mina happily.
Upon hearing her casual slip, I actually choked on my own
saliva, and began to cough violently. Lita's protective instincts
suddenly reared their motherly head as she repeatedly whacked me on
the back, bellowing 'breathe!' in a commanding voice.
"Come again?" I gasped after I barely recovered.
"It shouldn't be such a surprise! Seeing that you already
have an insane crush on the actual gentleman, Darien Junior seemed
only appropriate," hastily explained my blonde friend, rounding my
quaint dining table when she noted my hands tightly clench.
"Firstly, twenty nine year old women do not develop childish
'crushes!' Secondly, I do not have a crush on Darien!"
"Would obsession be a better term?" Ami thoughtfully
suggested.
"This is ridiculous! I have no feelings for Darien,
whatsoever."
"What about lust?"
"Lust isn't an emotion," I quickly quipped, blushing at
the appearance of their smug grins. "Stop smiling like that."
"Then, pray tell, what is lust?"
"Err…the bodily demonstration of hormones gone bonkers,
of course."
Reference: Page 165 of Serena's Dictionary.
*Note: Disregard Webster's version*
The definition sounded genuine enough, I mentally
commended myself.
"Unfortunately, you couldn't be more wrong. Lust is the
basis for many relationships."
"Fortunately, I have no intentions of even forming the base
of a relationship with Darien."
"Keep your shirt buttoned, Meatball Head. We were only
teasing," Rei soothed, clasping my hands with hers.
Haughtily tossing my ponytail over my shoulder, I nonchalantly
replied, "Quite right, the sheer possibility of Darien and I
getting together is laughable enough."
"Before the Blonde Bombshell detonates, why don't we head
back home, troop?" forcibly proposed Rei before love guru Mina could
comment.
"Great idea, I'm about to fall over from fatigue," I
smothered a yawn.
"Girls, you wouldn't believe it! Yesterday, I met the most
wonderful man at the grocery store!" chattered Lita. In her state
of excitement, she rattled the frail Ami like a rag doll as she
skipped to the door.
"Let me guess, he reminded you of your old boyfriend?" I
quipped solemnly, biting my lip to keep from releasing a shout of
laughter when she glanced wondrously at me.
"How did you know that?"
"Wild guess, of course."
"As amazing as her powers of deduction are, I'm afraid we
must be going. Now," Rei insistently tugged on Lita's leather
purse, shaking her head disapprovingly at my wicked sense of humor.
"Thanks for the gift!" I shouted after their disappearing
figures. With an exhausted sigh, I trudged back to my bedroom,
and promptly collapsed into a nearly death like slumber.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded, fixing an admittedly
rude look upon the approaching Darien. With his slate gray business
suit perfectly outlining his broad shoulders and narrow waist, he
looked every bit the suave, utterly gorgeous businessman, I grumpily
noted through lowered eyelashes.
"I was invited to lunch with the girls today, if you must
know," listlessly explained Darien, placing his briefcase on the chair
beside me. As he shrugged off his jacket and loosened his silk,
periwinkle tie, my mouth positively watered when I instantly noted
the defined muscles rippling beneath his impeccably starched, white
dress shirt.
Bad Serena: Take it off, take it off!
Good Serena: I got a dollar!
Bad Serena: Isn't that supposed to be my line?
I shook my head, as if trying to mentally rouse my dormant
common sense. He was even infecting my morally opposing hosts!
Honestly, what was wrong with me?
"Oh? And by whom?"
"If I'm not mistaken, it was Lita."
I muttered something about where the loyalties of true
friends lay before returning to my menu, trying to ignore his warm
presence when he occupied the seat beside me. After a few seconds,
I sneaked a glance, only to find the insufferable jerk staring quite
openly at me. Much to my annoyance, my heart leapt out of my chest,
and suddenly my hormones began to perform the 'shagging' ritual.
Realizing my face continued to resemble a tomato more and more as
the seconds ticked by, I purposefully shielded myself with the
laminated menu.
Stupid, stupid Serena. Stop acting so daft! My mental
chastisements were interrupted by rich, velvety laughter.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing."
Uneasily, (well, only on my part, the exasperating jerk
looked perfectly composed) we placed our orders with yet another,
susceptible schoolgirl of a waitress. Thrice, I had to repeat my
order because she was too preoccupied with displaying her basketball
twins to listen to my requests for a grilled chicken Caesar salad.
Women.
Arms crossed across my chest, I watched as Darien's eye
momentarily followed after the seductive waitress before returning
my disapprovingly glare.
"What is it now, sweetheart?"
"I'm not your sweetheart, mister. And I was just reminded
of men's innate ability to act like pigs."
Once we received our orders, Darien thoughtfully commented,
"I don't think I'll ever understand you."
"Did I ask for you to understand me?" I retorted, deliberately
turning my head opposite of his direction.
He chose that timely moment to chuckle quietly. Deducing
that I was the object of his amusement, I glowered threateningly and
demanded, "Will you stop laughing at me?"
"I don't think you realize how adorable you are," he casually
lifted a hand to my blushing cheeks. Propping an elbow on the table,
he slowly leaned towards me, sensually stroking my high cheekbones.
That finger slowly traveled south to trace my bottom lip, undoubtedly
rubbing off my already fading lipstick. My tongue, moving on its own
accord, sneaked out to wet my suddenly dry mouth, but in turn, licked
his probing finger. His eyes, watching the entire display with heavy
lids, flew up to meet my wide ones. For several, impossibly long moments,
he gazed piercingly at me, as if trying to decide how to respond to my
wanton actions. Moving, let alone breathing properly, was out of
question, as I found myself rooted to my chair. I believe that I tried
to speak, but embarrassingly enough, it sounded like unintelligible
gurgles.
My eyes closed fittingly when I felt his breath brush against
my parting lips. I was bombarded with the sensations of strong fingers
outlining the cups of my bra, a lush mouth nuzzling my ears.
Heavens, I wanted that man to kiss me senseless and much, much
more.
And just as I admitted that to myself, my evil, useless cell
phone sprang to life with a digital interpretation of the Sugar Plum
Fairy sequence.
"Damn it!" I muttered rather loudly, my trembling fingers
fumbling for my pocketbook. Since I am a nimble person and I am
capable of conducting myself appropriately, I happened to knock over
my purse in the hapless process, spilling all the contents onto the
table.
"Damn it!" this time, I shouted my frustration. Hastily, I
shoved makeup compacts, random receipts, breakfast bars, and candy
wrappers back into my shoulder bag, pleading with every deity that
entered my mind for just one, uninterrupted minute.
"I'm assuming that this is yours?"
"Thank y—eek!" I screeched, flailing my arms as I leapt out
of my seat, my face contorted with absolute horror.
"Sorry we're late, traffic was a pure monster!" announced
Rei, completely unaware of my present situation. Scrutinizing her
closer, I reconsidered her innocence.
"Serena? What's wrong, honey?" demanded Lita, but her
inquiries were instantly hushed when she noted the line of my
vision.
"How the HELL did that get in my purse!" I shouted, wildly
pointing to a painfully familiar neon pink object embedded in
Darien's pasta. Averting a half furious, half mortified stare to
my guilty gaggle of former comrades, I repeated my question with a
double measure of pure, feminine rage.
"Hughes, calm down," Darien soothed, his hands rubbing the
stiff muscles of my back with infinite care.
"Calm down? I think it's going to take at least two weeks
before my face returns to its normal color! Just look at that…at
that…!" I stuttered idiotically, grasping for the appropriate phrase.
I wasn't certain who the culprit was, but I distinctively
heard someone murmur 'penis pasta.' My eyes narrowed, trying to
discern the brave comedian in the making.
"Oh, very clever! I didn't think you girls were capable
of something so underhanded, so despicable! Clearly," gesturing
to the horrifying evidence, "I was wrong!"
"I'm sure it began as an innocent joke, no harm intended.
Besides, it's not as if I was born yesterday, Hughes. I am
aware that plenty of healthy, attractive women use similar..," he
quickly groped for a suitable word, "instruments to keep alive.
Really, it's not something to get riled about. Here, by the way,"
he nudged me and discreetly offered me the pleasure oriented
contraption.
"Excuse me, but I do not use that…that instrument to keep
me alive, thank you very much!" I snapped. Snatching the cleaned
vibrator out of his grasp, I quickly shoved it into my pocketbook
while I surreptitiously surveyed the entire restaurant for onlookers.
Luckily, everybody was too concerned with their own food to worry
about a particular, half crazed blonde and her vibrator troubles.
Somehow, that oddly comforted me.
"Darien's absolutely right. How about we all sit down,
like normal adults, and enjoy our lunch break?" placidly suggested
Ami, elegantly sliding into her usual seat while silently imploring
me with her convincing, indigo eyes.
"Easy for you to say," I muttered, but obeyed her plea for
harmony. Cautiously, as if expecting me to explode and lash out
randomly, the others slowly seated themselves. Out of the corner
of my eye, I could see Rei visually tracing the route for the
nearest fire escape should I do something deliciously horrible like
attack her with my fork and spoon. Mina was ever so slightly moving
her seat closer to Lita, clearly hoping that the brunette would
shield her from any attacks.
"So, what should I order?" questioned Rei.
"Spaghetti sounds good today. I've been craving that for
weeks now," Lita babbled while she curiously noted Mina pressed
closely to her armrest, ducked down in the strangest defensive
stance.
"Good idea."
"You guys all set with your orders?" the waitress returned,
fluttering her eyelashes at a grinning Darien. I rolled my eyes,
the pig. And to think I actually wished he would kiss me senseless.
Was I taking wrongly prescribed medication?
Bad Serena: Would overactive hormones be considered a medication?
Me: Oh, shaddup!
Darien did not turn me on, damn it! How many times did I
need to remind my sex deprived body that? So what if his shoulders
were wonderfully broad, especially in those tailored business suits?
So what if his hands were just the most enticing combination of
callused tenderness? So what if I was fighting against the headiest
urge to leap into his lap, rip off that beautiful Ralph Lauren suit,
and ravage the poor man until he and I couldn't walk for a week?
Disgusted with myself, I took a wholly unfeminine swig of
my water and monstrously burped out my frustrations.
"Bravo," he quietly commented, while the others, waitress
included, stared openly at me.
Hardly caring of their quite obvious thoughts, I defiantly
drained the remaining drops in my glass. After the vibrator
incident, what else could possibly match that?
"I'll take your penis pasta," Rei decided from behind her
menu.
Well, that remark slid in as a close second.
Quickly registering what actually slipped out of her mouth,
she actually gasped in pure shock, and stammered stupidly to correct
herself. "I mean, er, just pasta! No penis included. Ouch! I
mean, yes, spaghetti and meatballs. By balls, I mean—OUCH!" After
she finally choked out an innuendo free order, she glared at Lita,
whose lips was twitching suspiciously. Then, ever so warily, she
swiveled her gaze to me. If it wasn't for Ami-the-Pacifist, who was
trying her best to act mature about the damn situation, I would have
reached into my purse and easily whacked her over the head with very
object she found so hilarious. Darien made no attempts to even hide
his amusement, as he laughed outright at the former priestess'
wonderful ability to dig herself into deep, pain promising cavities.
"Stop glaring at me, it was a sincere accident!" Rei argued.
"The penis pasta slip up or placing my 'gift' in my purse?"
"The penis slip up, of course!"
"So you deliberately staged the entire vibrator spaghetti
scenario!"
"Stop placing words in my mouth! I never said that!"
"Oh? Exactly what are you trying to say?"
My, wasn't I on a roll? I definitely picked up a few
pointers from Dad, having been interrogated by him numerous times
for being caught red handedly sneaking into my own house. Somehow,
he was highly doubtful of the possibility of me sleepwalking.
Perhaps the heavy makeup and the outrageously miniscule amount of
clothing I was wearing were a giveaway.
Mina, sensing her desperation and my bloodlust, reached
over, patted her on the back, and advised piteously, "Why don't you
just quit while you're ahead?"
"Stop acting like such a child, Hughes," a silky baritone
purred in my ear. As I prepared a witty retort to his gentle
chastisement, I felt a familiar hand encircle the nape of my neck,
applying just the perfect bit of pressure to send stimulating thrills
down my spine. But instead of leaning into his warmth, I shrugged
off his touch and bristled like a raging wolf.
"It wasn't the least bit funny! To be perfectly honest, it
was quite embarrassing!" I angrily corrected him, stamping my foot to
display my extreme sophistication.
"Oh?"
"Oh, I'm sure it's just hilarious to you, Mr. I'm-the-Most-
Wanted-Bachelor-in-Tokyo! Isn't just hysterical that I, Serena Hughes,
need a vibrator to survive a sorry excuse of a love life? Well," I
abruptly turned to face Darien, who had been quietly trailing behind
me while I loudly ranted, and poked his broad chest repeatedly, "you
couldn't be more wrong! I don't need a plastic, neon pink pleasure
toy to get my kicks!"
Several onlookers momentarily paused mid-step and overtly
gawked at my rather explicit exclamation. One senior citizen, who
had been hobbling about on her cane, shouted at me to display some
decency in public, but immediately shut up once I threatened to
filch her walking stick.
Annoying Inner Voice: So you sunk that low to insult old,
defenseless ladies?
Damn straight.
"There's nothing wrong with that, I'd say it's only
natural. And besides, I don't believe you're pathetic at all.
Far from pathetic, actually," he grinned, and trapped my hand
between his own and his muscular chest.
"Please, lying doesn't suit you, Langston. I recommend for
you to remain obnoxiously truthful," I scornfully advised, watching
in half horror, half excitement when he lifted my hand and brushed
his extremely wicked lips against my knuckles. I nearly fainted
on the bustling streets of Tokyo when his delicious mouth slid across
my fingers and softly kissed the tips of my fingers. Faintly, I
heard several female bystanders sigh dreamily.
Startled wouldn't even describe my emotions when I ripped
my stare from his roving lips and found a decent crowd of half
drooling women surrounding us. One lady, luxuriously lost in a mink
coat, whacked her balding husband with her Gucci purse and, while
irately indicating to Darien, demanded, "Why can't you be more like
him!"
Blushing furiously, I tugged at my hand and fiercely whispered,
"Let go of me!"
"What ever is the matter, Hughes? First, you complain how men
are so insensitive, but you still carp when one does shower you with
attention."
"Yes, but this wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I complained
of sensitivity!" I said through gritted teeth. With one, monstrous effort,
I liberated my thoroughly lavished hand, which was still tingling from
the sensuality of his butterfly kisses, and frowned fiercely to mask the
urge to launch myself (naked!) into his arms.
Refusing to make eye contact, I resumed my journey back to the
office.
"As I said before, I don't think I'll ever understand you," he
reflected. Rejecting the tempting inclination to mutter something
vulgar, I continued to weave through the masses, pointedly ignoring
his much unwanted presence.
Serena's rampart hormones: Who the hell said unwanted?
Serena's highly intelligent mind: I did, you buffoons!
"Good, then stop trying."
"What is your problem against me, Hughes, and men for that
matter?" demanded Darien, evidently my attitude finally cracking
through his composed exterior. Lifting an eyebrow, I propped myself
against a traffic pole, waiting for the pedestrian crossing sign
to blink.
"I just don't understand why you enjoy bothering me with
pointless questions."
"Such as…?"
"Well…err…, you know!" I sputtered, averting my eyes when
his wintry blue gaze became particularly piercing. As we waited
in a contemplative silence, he continued to regard me with
growing intensity, his eyes seeming to melt my frigid façade.
I almost 'eeped' when Darien abruptly leaned forward, his
powerful hands resting lightly on my outstretched elbow.
"Actually, I haven't a clue to what you're talking about.
Why don't you enlighten me?" he rasped, never breaking his
commanding stare as his feathery touch slowly slid from
my elbow, down my goose bumped covered forearm, and halted at
my trembling fingers. His hands began to weave through mine,
and I watched in fascination as his thumb began to gently
massage mine in an alluring, circular motion.
"You know, those questions about women that never
cease to puzzle men!"
"Is it wrong to be interested in the way that you,
Serena Hughes, think? Because really, it just shows my
growing fascination with you," he smiled broadly, breaking
every statute of personal space as he leaned in impossibly
close. Out of the corner of my eye, the Fates demonstrated
some mercy and decided at that moment that the traffic light
would change from green to red. Too inexperienced to
properly handle his flustering attentions, I slipped out
of his embrace and began to immerse myself with the crowd.
"Can't stand there forever!" I said, shrugging in
convincingly feigned innocence when Darien reappeared at my
side.
"Why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"That!"
"What's that?" I deliberately dodged his question, knowing
full and well exactly what he was referring to: my cowardly
ways. But, not in any way, shape, or condition was I
capable of facing him, my friends, my opposing entities, my
heart. After all, I was a Class One Coward, and if need be,
bitch.
"Save me your blonde bimbo routine. You're too
intelligent for that, Hughes."
"Look Langston, I enjoyed this heart to heart, honestly,
I did. But, lunch break is nearly over and my bear of a
boss is probably standing right outside my office door,
waiting for my arrival. Why don't you follow in suit, call
a cab, and get to work?" I breezily suggested, patting his
forearm to signal my departure.
"You have exactly thirteen minutes," Darien blocked my
heavenly escape route, for all I needed to do was follow
the yellow brick road straight through those revolving
doors. Images of brightly dressed munchkins literally
danced through head, as they sang in high pitched voices to
that easily recognizable tune. Unfortunately, the Wicked Jerk
of the Oriental East was hindering my runaway, and there was
no possibly way of squeezing my voluminous curves past.
"And…?"
"We're going to talk."
"Who says?"
"I say, you saucy little minx."
"You have absolutely no authority over me, Langston.
I'm not another employee at your Daddy's company," and without
indulging him with a single glance behind, I strode purposefully
into to the building and boarded the empty elevator. Mentally,
I cheered louder at a football stadium during the Superbowl,
which is a fairly commendable feat, at my wittiness, at my luck,
at just how wonderfully I shoved Darien's arrogance down his own
throat.
Serena, Superwoman. Wooo, I thoroughly enjoyed the sound
of that.
Serena, the Sensational. Wow, lightening almost struck me,
that nickname sounded so damn…sensational.
As more monikers bombarded my mind, the two doors that
began to slide shut immediately swung back open when an expensive,
Italian leather shoe squeezed in between. Gawking, I wordlessly
watched as Darien sauntered into the elevator, hit that forbidden
red button, and glued me to my very spot with his intense gaze.
"We're going to talk, right now," he announced.
"What is the matter with you? I need to get back to work,
my boss has a tendency to send out a search and rescue even if you're
only a minute late!" I reminded him. Tossing my chignon in his face,
I leaned forward to push that same red button to resume my voyage
back to my office. Unfortunately, I was rendered useless when
Darien grabbed my arm with little force and pressed me against the
wall. Too flabbergasted to speak, I gaped up at his alarmingly
handsome face.
"You've displayed the worst table manners in front of me, and
weren't the least bit embarrassed. But lo and behold, a vibrator
should slip into my main course, and you're mortified."
"I think a vibrator is a bit more shocking than burping!"
"Some women might beg to differ."
"Some women are not in their right minds."
"That's very traitorous of you to admit."
"Eh, if the shoe fits."
"I think that you were implicitly revealing something, out
when you were ranting about your shortcomings."
"Will you stop saying that, already? Your thinking is completely
bonkers! I could care less of your opinion of me!"
"Then explain your previous comments about me, 'the eligible
bachelor', laughing at you, the supposed 'pathetic single girl,' because
you own a vibrator?"
I did open my mouth to protest, to deny, to cleverly comment at
least. But even if the livelihood of future generations lay on my
shoulders, I couldn't have concocted a response! A gurgle, even.
Immediately, I closed my O-shaped mouth, not wanting to appear any more
an idiot than already possible.
Damn it, he was absolutely right. I did actually place some value
on the bastard's thoughts and opinions, more than I truly liked to admit.
But his over inflated ego did not need another dosage of helium, and I
was not willing to provide that extra dosage.
"And what about your unexplained bouts of jealousy?" he demanded,
his hands beginning to trace down the ridges of my spine. I shivered,
despite myself. Uneasily, I began to slide out of his embrace, but
upon noting this, he only pulled me closer.
"I…I…," I stammered, feeling my face grow red at his knowing
touch.
"And what about this ridiculous temptation for me to kiss you?"
he menacingly demanded. To that, I had no clever response, but that
was hardly necessary seeing that he crushed my lips with his own.
At first, I was ever resistant, both to shocked and angered by his
audacious tactics. Sensing this, he pressed a warm hand to the
small of my back and outlined my entire mouth with his wonderful
tongue. With a surrendering sigh on my part, he invaded my mouth
with sensual flicks of his tongue, and I could only arch
encouragingly against his muscular body. His other hand tugged
on my chignon, urging my head back. By doing this, he continued
to kiss me another angle that left me completely open to the hot
onslaught of his wet tongue and knowing hands.
I never had such a strong conviction for the afterlife until
then, because I was certain I was in heaven.
My hands wrapped around his neck, my tongue was completely
consumed with battling against his. I felt his skillful touch
glide over the curve of my hip and up my ribcage, and finally,
to my chest. One large hand engulfed my left breast, while his
thrumb lightly rubbed my hardening nipple, evident through my
white, silk blouse. As electricity spread like a wild fire in a
dry savanna throughout my body, I pressed into his touch and
groaned into his mouth, increasing the speed of my dueling tongue.
Suddenly, I wanted to be in my bedroom, instead of this the
Dratted elevator. Rather on the bed, rather than pressed against
the cold metal of the elevator wall. But when his thumb began to
massage faster, all thoughts were lost.
It seemed like an eternity when we finally untangled ourselves.
I was breathing heavily, I felt like I had just finished a five
Kilometer race instead of senselessly kissing the very man who had
once been my sworn enemy. Feminine pride surged when I observed
Darien's flushed face and equally labored breathing, he was clearly
as affected by the quite explicit kiss as I was. I had been kissed
plenty before, more frogs than anything remotely prince material,
but that…that exchange between Darien and I would remain in a
class by itself.
For a few seconds, we were silent, too shocked and aroused
to shatter the hot moment with pointless words. I had released
probably twenty nine years of pent up sexual frustration in that
one kiss, and my hormones and lips were prepared to repeat the
entire incident once again. Finally, Darien approached me again.
Leaning down, he tenderly brushed his lips against my swollen ones,
and murmured, "I'm going to call you this Saturday. Be sure to
keep your schedule and line open, Hughes."
I nodded and gulped audibly. He smiled another heart
melting smile, pressed that crimson knob, and departed from my
particularly horny presence.
News at six o'clock: Unknown blonde, claimed to be foaming at
the mouth, is seen chasing after a cluster of four women. If the
offender is caught, she could be charged for carrying a weapon
without a license. Keep a lookout, she is armed and dangerous.
Whew, I think that is probably one of
my most descriptive kissing scenes to
date. I was a little hesitant writing
it, to be honest. But, once again,
tell me, dear readers, your reaction.
::runs for pom poms. Adopts cheerleader-
esque smile::
Give me a R!
R!
Give me an E!
E!
Give me a V!
V!
Give me an I!
I!
Give me a E!
E!
Give me a W!
W!
What's that spell?
REVIEW! WOOOHOO!
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