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May/December	By : thewriterwhocameinfromthecold Category: +G to L > Love Hina Views: 14880 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Love Hina or its associated characters. I am not profiting from this in any way.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Will you turn towards me?
I am lonely too,
This Autumn evening.
- Matsuo Basho
It was Christmas, but there was no joy to be had in Keitaro Urashima’s world. God and sinners might have been reconciled on this day of Peace on Earth and Good Will to Men, but someone must have forgotten to tell Motoko, who still hated his masculine guts – surprise, surprise – and Naru, who ran hot and cold so often he was beginning to wonder if it wasn’t on purpose. Could anybody go through the kind of mood swings she seemed to experience and be as stable as she appeared? To make matters worse, he’d just failed his mock exam; the mock exam upon which his fate as a resident and manager of Hinata House depended.
As he strolled down the streets of Hinata, Keitaro stuffed the test results deeper into his coat pocket, as if crumpling it up in some dark place would change the numbers on the page. Every couple of blocks he would take the sheet out and look down at it. Yes, he had read it correctly, just as he had done the other thirty five times: he had failed. Granted, his percentage was an improvement from his previous failures, but as Keitaro well knew by this time you can’t win for losing. There were no two ways about it: he’d have to leave Hinata. Even if others were inclined to be generous, Motoko would insist upon it.
Keitaro shivered against the cold and hiked up his coat collar. All around him families were getting last minute shopping done, buying gifts and Christmas cakes. At the end of the block, a Salvation Army band was playing It Came Upon a Midnight Clear. In front of the band sat the eponymous red kettle, manned by an older gentleman with smiling entreating eyes. Keitaro reached into his coat pocket, fished out a couple hundred Yen, and dropped it into the bucket. The old man nodded in thanks and Keitaro smiled as he stopped to listen to the band a while. Even if he didn’t understand most of these Western carols, he found the music soothing.
He could always go home, he realised. There would be hot food and a warm bed back in Tokyo if he just knocked on the door and promised to give up on Tokyo University and joined the family firm. He might even be able to get back in his Mom and Dad’s good graces without having to hear ‘I told you so’. No, he couldn’t give up. Not yet. Even if the girls kicked him out, he still had a promise to keep. He’d sleep on Shirai and Haitani’s couch while he studied if necessary, but there was no way he’d surrender now. Not with the National Exams so close.
The band was playing Silent Night when a salaryman nudged Keitaro as he passed, calling out a distracted apology as he jogged through the streets with a roast chicken under his arm. Keitaro’s stomach growled as the scent reached his nose. Running away was not something best done on an empty stomach. He decided to find a restaurant somewhere. Everything would seem clearer with a full belly. He looked up above the band at the street sign to get his bearings. Once he’d oriented himself he ducked down a side street. According to his memory, there was a noodle house a few blocks down the road where he could grab a bite without breaking the bank. Besides, with snow threatening, it seemed like a good idea to get something that would stick to his ribs.
It was quieter away from the main drag. Most of the stores along this stretch were already shut or about to close for the night, but the sidewalks were still far from empty as Keitaro walked and hummed along with the band as they faded behind him. It seemed colder once the music was gone. Keitaro saw a couple huddling together as they walked, and felt envy burn through his veins. The girl, a tall willowy thing with hair down to her shoulders, giggled as the guy whispered something into her ear. Keitaro groaned and looked to over at the storefronts, determined to keep the display out of sight. As he looked over he realised that he was just passing the old Maehara Family Restaurant, Shinobu’s former home.
Keitaro used to love the place before it had closed down. His stomach growled now as he recalled hours spent over hot tea, Chinese spare ribs, pan fried fish, and countless other delights that had made Maehara’s a mainstay of his previous trips to Hinata. It was empty now. Even the tables and chairs had been carted away. They even took out the fish tank at the back, he noted as he peered through the window. He shook his head. Of course they took the fish tank. What were they going to go, leave the fish to fend for themselves?
He stepped back from the window and turned back towards the noodle house. He got about five steps before he felt a tap on his shoulder.
“Hey, Handsome,” A woman said from behind. “Want to get some tea with me?”
Handsome? Him? Keitaro knew without turning that someone was playing a prank on him. He knew the story all too well from high school. First there was the girl’s confession of love, then his tongue tied acceptance, and finally the laughter, the mockery, and on really horrible days the Dictaphone that had captured every word. Well, not this time. He turned slowly, crafting his gracious refusal in his mind. The words fled him, however, when he caught sight of the older woman who had approached him.
She looked to be in her thirties, a little older than Haruka, with long brown hair held back by a ponytail. She had a winsome smile, but there was sadness behind her dark blue eyes. Keitaro had only seconds to see all this before the woman’s smile morphed into a terror he didn’t understand.
“I’m sorry,” she said before he could even get a word in. “Forget it.” She turned on her heel and started down the road.
Keitaro blinked as he watched the woman retreat. What had that been about? He knew he wasn’t the most handsome guy on earth, but a woman had never run away from him before. It was almost as if she had recognised him. Yes, maybe that was it. There was something familiar about the woman, something about the eyes, but what was it? He turned back towards the restaurant scratching his head, when inspiration struck like a bolt from the blue.
“Mrs. Maehara?” he exclaimed in disbelief.
The woman froze in place, only to take off again at a faster clip.
“Mrs. Maehara? Wait up.”
Sneakers had the advantage over high heels, and he caught up to her in a few strides. As he came alongside her, she held up her hand, as if to shield her face from his gaze.
“Mrs. Maehara?”
“Please,” she said in a tight voice. “Just forget it. It was a mistake.”
“Mistake? What are you doing out here?”
Her breath hitched a second. “Look, I’m sorry. Can’t you just leave me alone?”
“But-”
“Just stop following me, all right?”
Then she seemed to wobble for a second and suddenly lurched away from him with a yelp.
“Look out,” Keitaro called, leaning forward to try and catch the falling woman, but he was too late and she hit the pavement with a thud. “Are you all right?” he asked, but she just looked away.
“Damn it,” she said under her breath, leaning over to inspect her boots.
Keitaro followed her hands to her right boot. The heel had bent, just hanging on to the sole of the shoe.
“Great.” She slapped the boot in frustration. “Just great.”
He held out his hand, but she ignored it, only to slip again as she tried to stand.
“Please,” he said, offering his hand again. “Let me help you.”
She stared at his hand a moment before taking it, and they pulled together until she was standing steady on the cold pavement. She covered her eyes as she leaned against a wall.
“What else can go wrong?” she asked through clenched teeth.
Keitaro knew better than to answer. Instead he said, “There’s a coffee shop across the street. I think I can fix your shoe if you’ll let me.”
She said nothing, but looked down at her shoe. Then she looked up at him, and he saw her clearly for first time since she’d run off. Her eyes were watery and the smile on her face was tight, but she didn’t seem to have any visible injuries. She nodded, and leaned on his shoulder as he helped her across the street.
“I always thought I’d be much older before younger men started helping me across the road,” she said with a weak laugh, once they were inside the coffee shop.
Keitaro made no comment as he removed a roll of tape from his coat. “May I?”
“May you? Oh!” She removed the boot and handed it to him.
The heel had broken, but at least it hadn’t snapped off. He wound the roll of tape around it several times until it stuck to the sole of the shoe. It wouldn’t look pretty, but it would last long enough for her to take it in for repairs.
“Now, are you all right?” he asked passing the boot back to her.
Mrs. Maehara proved to be like her daughter by wilting under his concerned gaze. “I’m fine,” she mumbled into her shoulder.
“You didn’t hurt anything when you fell?”
“Just my pride,” she said, burying her face in her hands with a sigh. She looked up at him like she wished she could disappear, and Keitaro began to feel uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to seeing such a look from an older woman. “Thank you,” she said.
“It was nothing.”
“Far from it,” she said, testing the taped heel, pleased to discover that it held in place. “Where did you get the tape?”
Keitaro tapped the side of his glasses. “It comes in handy when a screw pops out or something.” He stood up. “Well, I should get going.”
“Wait.”
“What is it?”
She looked down a moment, her eyes flickered between his face and the table top. “Let me thank you properly?” she asked.
Keitaro waved her off with a smile. “You don’t have to do that. I’m just glad you’re all right.”
She grabbed his wrist. “Let me buy you dinner. It’s the least I can do for you looking after Shinobu.”
At the word ‘dinner’, Keitaro’s stomach let loose a thunderous growl. Mortified, he turned to apologise, but stopped short when he realised that she was giggling into her fist. When she saw his terrified look, she only laughed harder; and he realised that this was the first time he had ever seen her relax. She actually looked quite pretty once the tension left her face.
“So, dinner?” she said.
Keitaro gave his stomach a wary look. “Dinner,” he agreed.
Keitaro felt almost guilty as Mrs. Maehara poured the wine. When he’d agreed to dinner, he’d expected that they would head to the noodle house he’d been aiming for, or some place similar. Granted, the food at the small family restaurant they were sitting in wasn’t exactly Haute Cuisine, but he hadn’t expected her to order steak and red wine as soon as they sat down, either.
“It’s the least I can do,” she said, waving off his protests. “After all, it’s Christmas.”
“I’m not ungrateful,” he replied, copying her as she began to swirl her glass. “But steak was more than I was expecting for a little bit of tape.”
She shook her head. “Not just that.” She set down her full glass and stared into it as she leaned on her hands. Once again, her eyes flickered between the table and his face, as if she were deciding something. “Those final weeks were hard on Shinobu,” she said at last. “Her Dad had long since moved out. The only times she ever saw him, we argued.”
Keitaro shifted in his seat. The vulnerability she was showing made him nervous, made him feel like he was walking in on something private. But she seemed to want this, so he just nodded.
“I thought moving away from that school would be best for her. You may have noticed Shinobu isn’t the best at making friends. All we ever heard about was her being bullied. It never occurred to us that she might actually like it there.” She looked at him with a small smile. “You know I really hated you for a while, Mr. Urashima.”
Keitaro flinched.
She chuckled. “Yes. A week after she moved in, I came back to deliver her things.”
Keitaro had a vague recollection of the day. He’d been out at cram school at the time; but when he’d returned, Kitsune had already kicked off an official welcome party for Shinobu.
Mrs. Maehara was swirling the glass on the table now, her eyes following the wine as it spun in the glass. “When my little girl came to the door, she had such a huge smile on her face. And, as she took me around to the kitchen and to show me her new room, I realised how long it had been since I’d seen her smile that way.” She slouched back in her chair, looking up at some far off point. “God,” she said as if the whole thing was a bad joke, “how I hated you for that smile.”
Keitaro’s stomach was making leaps and bounds inside him. People didn’t bare their souls to him, it just didn’t happen. In the end he said the only thing he could think of, “Shinobu has a picture on her bedside table.”
“What?”
“Of all three of you. You’re standing in front of some kind of merry-go-round.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
“Yes. She thinks about you all the time. She might be living with us, but we all know that we’ll never replace you. You’re her mother, and she’ll never love any of us the way she loves you.”
Mrs. Maehara’s eyes began to glisten. “At her bedside,” she whispered. The food arrived. “Well,” she said, clearing her throat, “Might as well dig in.” She raised her glass. “To happier days.”
Keitaro returned the toast and sipped his wine. He knew nothing about it, but the deep dark flavour seemed to go with his evening as he set down his glass and cut into his steak. He gave a happy hum as he chewed.
“Thank you for the meal, Mrs. Maehara.”
“Not Maehara,” she said without looking up from her food. “It’s not my name anymore.”
He winced. “I’m sorry, I should have realised. What is your name?”
She chewed a bite for a while, then said, “Since you’re looking after my daughter as you are, perhaps you could call me Ritsuko?”
Though it felt far too familiar, he obliged. “Well, then, thank you Ritsuko.”
Then she gave him such a sunny smile he couldn’t help but smile back as he returned to his food. The wine helped him get over his nerves, and they discussed Shinobu. When the bottle was empty, Keitaro found his eyes being drawn to a spot on Ritsuko’s neck. It was the spot where her fingers came to rest for just a moment after she pushed her bangs to the side. When they were ordering dessert, Keitaro began to wonder what it would be like push those bangs away for her. He shook himself.
“Something the matter?” she asked.
“Little too much wine, that’s all.”
“How about walk? It’ll help.”
Keitaro nodded and tore his eyes from his companion as she signalled the waiter. It felt strange to see Shinobu’s blue eyes reflected in another woman. Less innocent, but also less frightened. It was like seeing a small portrait of the woman Shinobu might become. Though, Keitaro hoped it wouldn’t be so. He hoped he never saw the day where the little chef’s bright blues became so dull with the fatigue of living. Eyes like that were made for smiling. Keitaro shook himself again. The wine was making him melancholy.
As they left the restaurant together, Keitaro held the door for a husband, wife, and their young daughter. As the door swung shut behind him, he could hear the father laugh at something the daughter was saying. Ritsuko turned right and he fell into step, casting one last glance back at the restaurant.
“I used to love Christmas, you know.”
“I’m sorry?”
Keitaro turned toward his companion. “I was just saying I used to love Christmas.”
Ritsuko blinked. “Used to? Why, what happened?”
Keitaro sighed and watched his breath rise above him in the cold air. To tell or not to tell?
“My parents own a confectionary in Tokyo. It’s always busy this time of year. I guess I just miss them now that I’m not living there.”
“So why not visit them?”
“Because I can’t. It’s complicated.”
Ritsuko frowned. “But what about your tenants at Hinata?” she said a moment later. “Why aren’t you celebrating with them? Surely you’ve got better things to do than keep an old woman company.”
Keitaro laughed – in part at the ridiculous notion of Ritsuko being old; and the other part… “My tenants have made their opinion of me quite clear.”
“Now that sounds like it has a story attached.”
“Several of the girls don’t care much for the fact that I’m a man managing a girls’ dorm. They call me a pervert, accuse me of things I haven’t done.” He leaned back in his chair. “I don’t blame them much though,” he confessed to the ceiling. “I’m not very reliable or very smart, and I do walk in on them, even if I don’t mean to.”
“Perhaps,” Ritsuko said, touching his arm, “you should stop telling me all this before I decide to remove Shinobu for her own good.” She smiled to let him know she was joking, and then her expression sobered. “You sound lonely.”
Keitaro considered this. He’d often associated loneliness with being alone. It was easy as he’d had plenty of both growing up. But now that he was living at Hinata, he was rarely alone. Still…
“Can you feel lonely in a crowd?”
“Yes,” Ritsuko’s reply was immediate. She stopped walking and looked across the street at the closed storefronts. “Sometimes I think crowds are the loneliest situations of all. At least when you’re alone, you know why you’re lonely.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Wow, sorry. This is why I don’t drink much.”
“No, I understand.”
He did. The first month at Hinata – when they had been trying to drive him out – had been the toughest of his life. Sitting up in his room with his cup noodles, listening to the others down in the dining room laugh and have a good time had felt as if he were watching some happy scene through a pane of glass. As this occurred to him, he looked over and realised that Ritsuko was speaking.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I was thinking of something else.”
Ritsuko brushed her bangs aside – that same maddening gesture. “I was saying that I think you’re selling yourself short. My daughter may not be good at making friends, but she’s a good judge of character. She’d have never stood up to me and decided to stay at Hinata if she didn’t think that you were a person she could trust.”
“But what about what the others said?”
For the first time since he’d met her, she smirked. Keitaro flinched. So knowing an expression didn’t suit her; didn’t suit her eyes; Shinobu’s eyes.
“Want a tip?” she said. “Don’t ever become a salesman. You’ll starve. Those girls don’t know what they’re talking about.” A bitter look crossed her face. “I’ve known men who couldn’t be trusted. You’re not one of those types.”
“How can you be so sure?”
She grabbed his shoulder and pushed until he was facing her. “Want to know how I know?”
Keitaro nodded.
“Because I hit on you and took you to dinner and you haven’t tried to push your luck all evening. To be honest I’ve never felt safer.”
Prickles of embarrassment coursed through Keitaro. Praise wasn’t something he got often. “Well, thanks I guess.” He waited for her to let go of his shoulder.
She didn’t. Instead she shuffled closer and looked up as she took a deep breath.
“You know,” she said, licking her lips, “if you came back…” The words stuck in her throat but she forced them out. “If you came back to my apartment with me, I bet I could feel really safe with you.”
Keitaro’s eyes narrowed in incomprehension. “Go back and…” His eyebrows shot up. “But…” He never completed the sentence as Ritsuko seized her opportunity by closing the distance between them and swallowing his protests with a kiss.
His first kiss; the realisation made him squeak. Ritsuko must have thought he was resisting, because she wrapped her arms around his back and pitched forward until she was leaning against him. She was all but gasping as her lips clung to his in desperation. Keitaro moaned as her tongue rasped over his bottom lip. He’d thought often about this moment, how and with whom; but his fantasies were pale imitations held against this woman and her sweet lips. When she pulled back, they were both panting. Her eyes, almost black in the light of the streetlamps, bored into his, asking, begging.
He nodded. She almost seemed to deflate in relief as her swollen lips curled into a smile. Her arm was still wrapped around his as she turned to hail a passing cab.
Keitaro’s body hummed with electricity the entire cab ride. He sat stock still, staring straight ahead. He had no idea what to do. He yearned for another kiss, but the cabbie’s nonchalant eyes in the rear view mirror were chastisement enough to keep him from making a move. Ritsuko also seemed unwilling to take things further. She played with the hem of her coat, giving Keitaro and the cabbie furtive glances. For a moment, Keitaro wondered whether or not she might have been regretting it. Certainly, he felt very confused about his own feelings. Even if Naru was angry at him; even if they weren’t dating, he still cared about her. Wasn’t going off with another woman in the night a betrayal? Shinobu’s mother no less! This couldn’t be right, could it? No. He had to speak up. He had to tell her that he was flattered, but that he couldn’t go any further. She’d just have to drop him off and they’d forget the whole thing. They’d…What was she doing?
Ritsuko’s hand ghosted over his shoulder and came to rest on the back of his head. Her fingers traced meaningless little patterns through his hair as she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. She ran the toe of her boot up and down his lower leg.
“It’s okay,” she said.
Keitaro shuddered. No it was not okay. If she kept that up, he wouldn’t have the strength to tell her that he had to leave. He ought to push her off or at least lean away. His hand came up, reaching for her hand tangled in his hair. He just had to push her away; but against his will, his hand found hers and caressed the back of it. She laced her fingers with his and ran her thumb lovingly over his hand. Damn it. He was already trapped, wasn’t he?
“We’re here,” she said a moment later as the cab pulled over in front of a two storey apartment building.
She handed the cabbie a few bills and told him to keep the change. Then they were out of the car, walking towards the stairs. She kept firm hold of his arm until they were at the top of the stairs. She turned to him with a pleading looking in her eyes; and he realised that he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t sure.
Motoko was right, he thought as he leaned in to kiss her, he was a man after all.
They stumbled down the walkway as they clung to each other, pulling apart again only as long as it took for Ritsuko to fish her keys out of her purse and unlock the door. The keys clattered to the foyer floor, and Keitaro kicked the door shut behind him, groaning as Ritsuko thrust her tongue into his mouth and slipped her hand under the hem of his sweater. The warmth of her palm shocked Keitaro as it followed a lazy course north over his stomach and ribs to caress his breast. Keitaro had no idea what he ought to do, but contented himself with rubbing circles over her back as they staggered across the room together. This was really happening. He was really in a woman’s apartment, really kissing her, really making a slow shuffling journey to her bed.
Just then, she pulled away with a groan. “We need to stop.”
Cold water came crashing down on Keitaro’s ardour. How could this happen? What had he done wrong?
She must have read it in his eyes, because panic flashed across her face and she tightened her grip on his arms. “No, Keitaro, I don’t mean like that.” She gave him a quick peck and rested her forehead against his. “I meant we should take our shoes off, and maybe I should change into something more comfortable.” She kissed him. “Would you like that?”
He had no idea what she meant, but she seemed to want him to want it as much as she did.
“Okay.”
She smiled and pecked his lips once more before leading him to the couch.
“You wait right here.” Then she went into bedroom and shut the door behind her.
Between the wine and arousal, Keitaro felt like his veins were buzzing. Part of him wanted to run out the door, and part of him wanted to run in after her. What was taking so long? He growled and forced himself to look away from the door. He got up and stripped off his sweater. Was the apartment hot or him? He smoothed out his hair and paced, humming snatches of Joy to World to distract himself from the red blooded and willing woman on the other side of the door.
He was on the third verse when Ritsuko emerged from the bedroom, wearing a baby blue nightgown. She’d brushed out her hair so that it hung loose about her shoulders, and put on a fresh coat of lipstick.
She was older than him by at least fifteen years, but they both regarded each other with the same nervous apprehension and arousal.
Keitaro swallowed. “You look beautiful.”
She smiled. “Thank you.” She looked around the room, shuffling closer to him. “Did you want a drink?”
Keitaro shuffled towards her too. “No, not unless you do.”
“No.”
They were almost at arm’s length.
“Good.”
She grabbed of his wrists and pulled him into the bedroom. She spun him around and pushed him back onto the bed. Giggling at his surprised yelp, she straddled his chest and brought his hand up to her face. She smiled down at him as she leaned into his palm.
“I’ve missed this,” she murmured.
Keitaro felt such tenderness at that moment as he caressed her cheek. His eyes flickered over her form, and he was filled with a sense of wonder. Who would divorce this woman?
Ritsuko chuckled when his eyes lingered on her breasts. “Go ahead, you can touch them.”
Keitaro swallowed back a brief surge of panic as he raised his other hand to gently cup her breast through the nightgown and ever so slightly squeeze. Ritsuko moaned and pushed on his other hand until he placed it on her other breast. With as much care as he could muster, he kneaded her tits, marvelling at their soft warmth. Emboldened, he thrust his hands through the opening of her nightgown to feel them unimpeded by the garment. Ritsuko practically ground her nipples against his hands as he caressed and explored. She reached down to unbutton his shirt, running her fingers over each new inch of flesh. Then she pushed his hands out of the way, and shrugged off the shoulder straps of the gown, exposing her chest. She rolled onto her side and pulled Keitaro’s head down to her chest.
Words weren’t necessary at this point. Keitaro flicked his tongue over one nipple and then the other.
“Mmm…Suck on it,” she said. He did, and she smothered her moan by kissing the top of his head. “Please, keep going.”
Keitaro latched onto the other nipple, pinching the first with his fingers as he luxuriating in the feeling of her breasts against his face and the tantalising smell of the perfume she dabbed between them.
She tapped him on the head, and he looked up at her.
“I’m ready,” she said.
He nodded and shuffled over so that she could lie on her back. He threw his shirt off as she undid his belt. Together they pushed down his pant and shorts, and his cock sprang free. He groaned as she ran a reverent hand over it. She spread her legs and reached for the hem of her gown. Keitaro licked his lips as he came face to face with Ritsuko’s trim bed of curls soaked in her arousal.
Ritsuko looked away. “Please don’t stare.”
“Huh? I’m not.”
“Just don’t. It’s embarrassing.”
“All right.”
He gripped his cock and guided it to her pussy. He could already feel the wet warmth radiating off her, provoking a deep ecstatic shudder. He poised the head against her lips and looked at her. Could this really be it? She nodded, it was. He took hold of her hands and thrust forward. She hissed and he stopped immediately.
She shook her head. “Keep going, I’m all right.”
He did, groaning at the warm grasping feeling of her pussy contracting around him. It was even better than he’d imagined. Masturbation couldn’t even compare. He still had no idea what he was doing, but it didn’t seem to matter. Neither he nor Ritsuko seemed to need words anymore. He pulled back and slipped out by accident. She reached down, positioned him back in place and settled her hands on his back as he experimented with shorted strokes. His rhythm was clumsy as he tried to get used to the movement, but Ritsuko moaned in his shoulder, wrapping her legs around his waist. She mumbled something that might have been words against his neck as he found his stride and began thrusting with greater confidence.
Keitaro cried out as he felt her pussy get even tighter as she thrust up to meet him. He felt like he was being gripped by a velvet glove. As she thrust him time with him, Ritsuko reached down to rub her clit and cried out into his shoulder. She nearly sobbed when he stopped moving.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes! For God’s sake, don’t stop.”
He resumed, and she gripped the sides of his face so that he was looking right in her eyes.
“Say my name,” she said.
“Ritsuko.”
She groaned and reached down to rub her clit harder. “Again…please.”
“Ritsuko.”
As impossible as it seemed, she got tighter; and Keitaro felt his orgasm approaching.
“Ritsuko.”
She sobbed into his neck as she rubbed harder and harder. Suddenly she gave a choking gasp and thrashed against him, clutching him so tight he almost couldn’t breath. Still, the pleasure drove him forward and he thrust into her again and again, and then right over the edge.
They lay together in silence. He placed kisses along her shoulder while she ran her hands over his back.
“You should go back home,” she said after a long time.
“You’re not trying to get rid of me are you?” he asked, only half joking.
She shook her head. “If I could, I’d keep you until morning, but your tenants are probably worried about you.”
Keitaro hoped she was right, but had no desire to leave her warmth to gamble on the whims of his tenants. “What about you?”
She gave him a quick kiss. “You’re sweet. Don’t worry. You’ve done more than enough for me.”
Keitaro reluctantly tore himself away and climbed out of bed in search of his clothes.
Once he was dressed he looked down at her, uncertain what to do. What did you say in this situation?
She propped herself up in bed. “If you wanted,” she cleared her throat, “If you wanted we could do this again.”
Keitaro had to keep himself from leaping. “Really?”
She chuckled. “Yes.” She grabbed a pen and paper off the nightstand and scribbled an address and phone number. “Call me soon.”
She stood up, looking like a Diana or a Venus wrapped in her bed sheet. When he took the paper, she gave him a long kiss.
“You’d better get out of here before I change my mind,” she said.
That sounded like incentive to stay to Keitaro, but he turned and headed for the door. In the doorway, he stopped and turned.
“Merry Christmas, Ritsuko.”
“Thanks, Keitaro. Merry Christmas to you too. Keitaro?”
“Yes?”
“Let’s both try to have a better year next year. We deserve it.”
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May/December