Warnings: slight cursing, mentions on stalking, and heavy make out session.
Notes: Ahhh itâs finished!! Finally!! I hope you guys like it let me know what you think
âThere's no way your mom and stepdad are going to let you come out here at night multiple times a week," Mina said, hugging her stylish denim jacket around her even though it wasnât more than slightly chilly.
The converted warehouse Tetsuetetsue used as his studio was a brick-faced building in a formerly industrial area of Musutafu recently struggling to revitalize. The space was vast, and the massive metal delivery-bay doors offered no exterior clue as to what was taking place inside. You and Mina sat in aluminum bleachers, watching a half dozen combatants on the mats below.
"Ouch." you winced in sympathy as a guy took a kick to the gram.
Even with padding, that had to sting. "How's going to find out, Mina?"
"Because youâll be in the hospital?" She glanced at you. "Seriously. KravMaga is brutal. They're just sparring and it's full contact. And even if the bruises don't give you away, your stepdad will find out somehow. He always does."
"Because of my mom; she tells him everything. But I'm not telling her about this."
"She won't understand. She'll think I want to protect myself because of what happened, and she'll feel guilty and give me grief about it. She won't believe my main interest is exercise and stress relief."
You propped your chin on your palm and watched Tetsutetsu take the floor with a woman. He was a good instructor. Patient and thorough, and he explained things in an easy-to-understand way. His studio was in a rough neighborhood, but you thought it suited what he was teaching. It didn't get more reality based than a big, empty warehouse.
"That Tetsutetsu guy is really hot," Mina murmured.
"He's also wearing a wedding band.â
"I noticed. The good ones always get snatched up quick."
Tetsuetetsu joined us after the class was over, his dark eyes bright and his smile brighter. "What'd ya think, Y/n?"
His sexy smile made Mina reach over and squeeze the blood out of your hand.
Friday started out awesome. Yaga walked you through the process of collecting information for an RFP, and he told you a little more about Bakugou Industries and Katsuki Bakugou, pointing out that he and Bakugou were the same age.
"I have to remind myself of that,â Yaga said. "It's easy to forget he's so young when he is right in front of you.â
'"Yes." you agreed, secretly disappointed that you wouldn't see Bakugou for the next two days.
As much as you told yourself it didn't matter, you were bummed. You hadn't realized youâd been excited by the possibility that you might run into each other until that possibility was gone. It was just such a rush being near him. Plus he was a hell of a lot of fun to look at. You had nothing nearly as exciting planned for the weekend.
You were taking notes in Yagaâs office when you heard your desk phone ringing. Excusing yourself, you rushed over to catch it. "Yagaâs office Y/n speakâ"
"Y/n, love. How are you?"
You sank into your chair at the sound of your stepfather's voice. He always sounded like old money to youâcultured, entitled, and arrogant. "Is everything okay? Is Mom all right?"
"Yes. Everything's fine. Your mother is wonderful, as always."
His tone softened when he spoke of his wife, and You were grateful for that. You were grateful to him for a lot of things, actually, but it was sometimes hard to balance that against your feelings of disloyalty. You knew your dad was self-conscious about the massive differences in their income brackets.
'Good," you said, relieved. "I'm glad. Did you and Mom receive my thank-you note for the dress and Minaâs dress?â
"Yes, and it was thoughtful of you, but you know we don't expect you to thank us for such things. Excuse me a moment." He spoke to someone, most likely his secretary. "Y/n, love, I'd like us to get together for lunch today. I'll send Rio around to collect you."
"Today? But we'll be seeing each other tomorrow night. Can't it wait until then?"
âNo, it should be today."
âBut I only get an hour for lunch."
A tap on your shoulder turned you around to find Yaga standing by your cubicle. "Take two," he whispered. "You earned it."
You sighed and mouthed a thank-you. "Will twelve o'clock work?"
âPerfectly. I look forward to seeing you."
You had no reason to look forward to private meetings with your stepdad, but you dutifully left just before noon and found a town car waiting for you, idling at the curb. Rio, your stepdad's driver and bodyguard, opened the door for you as you greeted him. Then he slid behind the wheel and drove you downtown. By twenty after the hour, you were sitting at a conference table in His offices, eyeing a beautifully catered lunch for two.
Your dad came in shortly after your arrival, looking dapper and distinguished. His hair was pure white, his face lined but still very handsome. His eyes were the color of worn blue denim, and they were sharp with intelligence. He was trim and athletic, taking the time out of his busy days to stay fit even before he'd married his trophy wifeâ your mom.
I stood as he approached, and he bent to kiss your cheek. "You look lovely, y/n."
"Thank you." You looked like your mom, who was also a natural h/c.
But your e/c eyes came from your dad.
Taking a chair at the head of the table, Your stepdad was aware that the requisite backdrop of the New York skyline was behind him, and he took advantage of its impressiveness.
"Eat." he said, with the command so easily wielded by all men of power. Men like Katsuki Bakugou
Had He been as driven at Bakugoâs age?
You picked up your fork and started in on a chicken, cranberry, walnut, and feta salad. It was delicious, and you were hungry. You were glad He didn't start talking right away so you could enjoy the meal, but the reprieve didn't last long.
"Y/n love, I wanted to discuss your interest in Krav Maga."
He took a sip of iced water and leaned back, his jaw taking on the rigidity that warned you that you wouldn't like what he was about to say. "Your Mother was quite distraught last night when you went to that studio in Brooklyn. It took some time to calm her down and to assure her that I could make arrangements for you to pursue your interests in a safe manner. She doesn't wantâ"
âWait." You set your fork down carefully, your appetite gone. "How did she know where I was?â
âShe tracked your cell phone.â
"No way," You breathed, deflating into your seat. The casualness of his reply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, made you feel ill. Your stomach churned, suddenly more interested in rejecting your lunch than digesting it. "That's why she insisted I use one of your company phones. It had nothing to do with saving me money.
âOf course that was part of it. But it also gives her peace of mind."
"Peace of mind? To spy on her grown daughter? It's not healthy. You've got to see that. Is she still seeing Dr. Petersen?" He had the grace to look uncomfortable. "Yes, of course."
"Is she telling him what she's doing?"
"I don't know," he said stiffly. "That's Monica's private business. I don't interfere.â
No, he didn't. He coddled her. Indulged her. Spoiled her. And allowed her obsession with your safety to run wild. "She has to let it go. I've let it go."
"You were innocent, Y/n. She feels guilty for not protecting you. We need to give her a little latitude."
"Latitude? She's a stalker!" Your mind spun. How could your mom invade your privacy like that? Why would she? She was driving herself crazy, and you along with her. "This has to stop."
"It's an easy fix. I've already spoken with Rio. He'll drive you when you need to venture into Brooklyn. Everything's been arranged. This will be much more convenient for you."
"Don't try to twist this around to being for my benefit." Your eyes stung and your throat burned with unshed tears of frustration. The way he talked about Brooklyn like it was a third-world country.
"I'm a grown woman. I make my own decisions. It's the goddamn law!â
"Don't take that tone with me, Y/n. I'm simply looking after your mother. And you."
You pushed back from the table. "You're enabling her. You're keeping her sick, and you're making me sick, too!â
"Sit down. You need to eat. Monica worries that you're not eating healthy enough."
"She worries about everything. That's the problem." You dropped your napkin on the table. "I have to get back to work.â
You turned away, striding toward the door to get out as quickly as possible. You retrieved your purse from your stepdad's secretary and left your cell phone on her desk. Rio, who had been waiting for you in the reception area, followed you, and you knew better than to try to blow him off. He didn't take orders from anyone but him.
Rio drove you backup to midtown, while you stewed in the backseat. You could bitch all you wanted, but in the end you weren't any better than your step dad because you were going to give in. You were going to cave and let your mom have her way, because it hurt your heart to think of her suffering any more than she already did. She was so emotional and fragile, and she loved you to the point of being crazy about it.
Your mood was still dark when you got back to the Agency. As Rio pulled away from the curb, you stood on the crowded sidewalk and looked up and down the busy street for either a drugstore where you could get some chocolate or a cellular store where you could pick up a new phone.
You ended up walking around the block and buying a half dozen candy bars at a Duane Reade on the corner before heading back to the Agency.
Youâd been gone just about an hour, but you weren't going to use the time Yaga had given you. You needed work to distract you from your crazy-ass family.
As you caught an empty elevator car, you ripped
open a bar and bit viciously into it. You were making strides toward filling your self-imposed chocolate quota before you hit the twentieth floor when the car stopped on the fourth. You appreciated the added time the stop gave you to enjoy the comfort of dark chocolate and caramel melting over your tongue.
The doors slid apart and revealed Katsuki Bakugou talking with two other gentlemen.
As usual, You lost your breath at the sight of him, which reignited your fading irritation. Why did he have that effect on you? When were you going to become immune?
He glanced over and his lips curved into a slow, heart-stopping smile when he saw you. Great , just your crappy luck. Youâd become some kind of challenge.
Bakugoâs smile faded into a frown. "We'll finish this later,â he murmured to his companions without looking away from you.
Stepping into the car, he lifted a hand to discourage them from following him. They blinked in surprise, glancing at you, then Bakugo, and then back again.
You stepped out, deciding it would be safer for your sanity to take a different car up.
âNot so fast, Y/n." Bakugou caught you by the elbow and tugged you back. The doors shut and the elevator glided smoothly into motion.
"What are you doing?" You snapped. After dealing with your stepdad, the last thing you needed was another domineering male trying to push you around.
Bakugou caught you by the upper arms and searched your face with that vivid red gaze. "Something's wrong. What is it?"
The now-familiar electricity crackled to life between you both, the pull made fiercer by your temper. "You."
âMe?" His thumbs stroked over your shoulders. Releasing you, he withdrew a lone key from his pocket and plugged it into the panel. All the lights cleared except for the one for the top floor.
He wore black again, with fine gray pinstripes. Seeing him from behind was a revelation. His shoulders were nicely broad without being bulky, emphasizing his lean waist and long legs. The silky strands of hair falling over his collar tempted you to clench them and pull. Hard. You wanted him to be as pissy as you were. You wanted a fight.
"I'm not in the mood for you now, Mr. Bakugou."
He watched the antique-style needle above the doors mark the passing floors. "I can get you in the mood."
Bakugou glanced over his shoulder at you. His shirt and tie were both the same rich ruby as his irises. The effect was striking. "No lies, Y/n. Ever.â
"That's not a lie. So what if I'm attracted to you? I expect most women are." Wrapping up what was left of your candy bar, you shoved it back into the shopping bag youâd tucked into your purse. You didn't need chocolate when you were sharing air with Katsuki Bakugou. "But I'm not interested in doing anything about it."
He faced you then, turning in a leisurely pivot, that ghost of a smile softening his sinful mouth. His ease and unconcern aggravated you further. "Attraction is too tame a word for"âhe gestured at the space between you bothâ"this.
"Call me crazy, but I have to actually like someone before I get naked and sweaty with him.â
"Not crazy," he said. "But I don't have the time or the inclination to date."
"That makes two of us. Glad we got that cleared up."
He stepped closer, his hand lifting to your face. You forced yourself not to move away or give him the satisfaction of seeing you intimidated. His thumb brushed over the corner of your mouth, then lifted to his own. He sucked on the pad and purred, "Chocolate and you. Delicious." A shiver moved through you, followed by a heated ache between your legs as you imagined licking chocolate off his lethally sexy body.
His gaze darkened and his voice lowered intimately. "Romance isn't in my repertoire, Y/n. But a thousand ways to make you come are. Let me show you.â
The car slowed to a halt. He withdrew the key from the panel and the doors opened.
You backed into the corner and shooed him out with a flick of your wrist. "I'm really not interested.â
"We'll discuss." Bakugou caught you by the elbow and gently, but insistently, urged you out.
You went along because you liked the charge you got from being around him and because you were curious to see what he had to say when afforded more than five minutes of your time.
He was buzzed through the security door so quickly there was no need for him to break stride. The pretty redhead at the reception desk pushed hastily to her feet, about to impart some information until he shook his head impatiently. Her mouth snapped shut and she stared at you, her eyes wide, as you both passed at a brisk pace.
The walk to Bakugoâs office was mercifully short. His secretary stood when he saw his boss approach but remained silent when he noted that Bakugou wasn't alone.
"Hold my calls, Kirishima," Bakugo said, steering you into his office through the open glass double doors.
Despite your irritation, I couldn't help but be impressed with Katsuki Bakugoâs spacious command center. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city on two sides, while a wall of glass faced the rest of the office space. The one opaque wall opposite the massive desk was covered in flatscreens streaming news channels from around the world.
There were three distinct seating areas, each one larger than Yagaâs entire office, and a bar that showcased jeweled crystal decanters, which provided the only spots of color in a palette that was otherwise black, gray, and white. Bakugo hit a button on his desk that closed the doors, then another that instantly frosted the clear glass wall, effectively shielding you both from the view of his employees. With the beautiful sapphire-hued reflective film on the exterior windows, privacy was assured. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a chrome coat rack. Then he returned to where youâd remained standing just inside the doors. "Something to drink, y/n?"
"No, thank you." Damn it. He was even yummier in just the vest.
You could better see how fit he was. How strong his shoulders were. How beautifully his biceps and ass flexed as he moved.
He gestured toward a black leather sofa. "Have a seat."
"I have to go back to work."
"And I have a meeting at two. The sooner we work this out, the sooner we can both get back to business. Now, sit down."
"What do you think we're going to work out?"
Sighing, he scooped you up like a bride and carried you over to the sofa. He dropped you on your butt, then sat next to you. "Your objections. It's time to discuss what it's going to take to get you beneath me.â
"A miracle." You pushed back from him, widening the space between you. You tugged at the hem of your emerald green skirt, wishing youâd worn pants instead. "I find your approach crude and offensive.â
And a major turn-on, but you were never going to admit it.
He contemplated you with narrowed eyes. "It may be blunt, but it's honest. You don't strike me as the kind of woman who wants bullshit and flattery instead of the truth.â
"What I want is to be seen as having more to offer than an inflatable sex doll."
Bakugoâs brows shot up. "Well, then.â
âAre we done?" You stood.
Wrapping your wrist with his fingers, he pulled you back down.
"Hardly. We've established some talking points: We have an intense sexual attraction and neither of us wants to date. So what do you wantâexactly? Seduction, Y/n? Do you want to be seduced?"
You were equally fascinated and appalled by the conversation. And, yes, tempted. It was hard not to be while faced with such a gorgeous, virile male so determined to get hot and sweaty with you. Still, the dismay won out. "Sex thatâs planned like a business transaction is a turnofffor me."
"Establishing parameters in the beginning makes it less likely that there'll be exaggerated expectations and disappointment at the conclusion.â
"Are you kidding?" You scowled. "Listen to yourself. Why even call it a fuck? Why not be clear and call it a seminal emission in a pre approved orifice?â
He pissed you off by throwing his head back and laughing. The full, throaty sound flowed over you like a rush of warm water. Your awareness of him heightened to a physically painful degree. His earthy amusement made him less sex god and more human. Flesh and blood. Real.
You pushed to your feet and backed out of reach. "Casual sex doesn't have to include wine and roses, but for God's sake, whatever else it is, sex should be personal. Friendly even. With mutual respect at the very least."
His humor fled as he stood, his eyes darkening. "There are no mixed signals in my private affairs. You want me to blur that line. I can't think of a good reason to."
"I don't want you to do jack shit, besides let me get back to work."
You strode to the door and yanked on the handle, cursing softly when it didn't budge. "Let me out, Bakugo."
You felt him come up behind you. His palms pressed flat to the glass on either side of your shoulders, caging you in. You couldn't think of your own self-preservation when he was so close.
The strength and demand of his will exuded an almost tangible force field. When he stepped close enough, it surrounded you, closing you in with him. Everything outside that bubble ceased to exist, while inside your entire body strained toward his. That he had such a profound, visceral effect on you while being so damn irritating had your mind spinning. How could you be so turned on by a man whose words should've turned you completely off?
Your eyes closed against the surge of arousal You felt at his authoritative tone. God, he smelled good. His powerful frame radiated heat and hunger, spurring your own wild desire for him. The uncontrollable response was intense by your lingering frustration with your stepdad and your more recent aggravation with Bakugou himself.
You wanted him. Bad. But he was no good for you. Honestly, you could screw up your life on your own. I didn't need any help.
Your flushed forehead touched the air-conditioned glass. "Let it go, Cross."
"I am. You're too much trouble.â His lips brushed behind your ear.
One of his hands pressed flat to your stomach, the fingers splaying to urge you back against him. He was as aroused as you were, his cock hard and thick against your lower back. "Turn around and say good-bye." Disappointed and regretful, you turned in his grip, sagging against the door to cool your heated back. He was curved over you, his luxurious blonde hair framing his beautiful face, his forearm propped against the door to bring him closer. You had almost no room to breathe. The hand he'd had at your waist was now resting on the curve of your hip, tightening reflexively and driving you mad. He stared, his gaze searingly intense.
"Kiss me," he said hoarsely. "Give me that much.â
Panting softly, you licked your dry lips. He groaned, tilted his head, and sealed his mouth over yours. You were shocked by how soft his firm lips were and the gentleness of the pressure he exerted. You sighed and his tongue dipped inside, tasting you in long, leisurely licks. His kiss was confident, skilled, and just the right side of aggressive to turn you on wildly.
You distantly registered your purse hitting the floor; then your hands were in his hair. You pulled on the silky spiky strands, using them to direct his mouth over yours. He growled, deepening the kiss, stroking your tongue with lush slides of his own. You felt the raging beat of his heart against your chest, proof that he wasn't just a hopeless ideal conjured by your fevered imagination.
He pushed away from the door. Cupping the back of your head and the curve of your buttocks, he lifted you off your feet. "I want you, y/n. Trouble or not, I can't stop."
You were pressed full-body against him, achingly aware of every hot, hard inch of him. You kissed him back as if you could eat him alive. Your skin was damp and too sensitive, your breasts heavy and tender. Your clit throbbed for attention, pounding along with your raging heartbeat.
You were vaguely aware of movement, and then the couch was against your back. Bakugou was leered over you with one knee on the cushion and the other foot on the floor. His left arm supported his torso while his right hand gripped the back of your knee, sliding upward along your thigh In a firmly possessive glide.
His breath hissed out when he reached the point where my garter clipped to the top of your silk stocking. He tore his gaze away from yours and looked down, pushing your skirt higher to bare you from the waist down.
"Jesus, Y/n." A low rumble vibrated in his chest, the primitive sound sending goosebumps racing across your skin. "Your boss is damned lucky heâs gay.â
In a daze, you watched Bakugoâs body lower to yours, your legs sliding apart to accommodate the width of his hips. Your muscles strained with the urge to lift toward him, to hasten the contact between you that youâd been craving since you first laid eyes on him. Lowering his head, he took your mouth again, bruising your lips with a fine edge of violence. Abruptly, he yanked himself away, stumbling to his feet.
You lay there gasping and wet, so willing and ready. Then you realized why he'd reacted so fiercely.
