The NeuroSync office was a battlefield by Friday, deadlines pressing down like a vice. Tanaka hit them with it at noon: the AI sim needed a full debug by Monday, and Dee and Hinata were tapped to lead. “You’re my best,” he said, clapping Dee’s shoulder, blind to the storm brewing. Dee locked eyes with Hinata across the room, her scowl a razor’s edge, and he grinned slow, provocative, like he’d just drawn the winning card.


    “Partners now, huh?” he said, strolling over as the team dispersed. “You gonna behave?”


    She thrust a stack of printouts at him, her fingers grazing his chest before she jerked back, flustered. “Fix your trash code, and I won’t have to drag you through this,” she bit out, her voice sharp but wobbling. Her bun was pulled tight, a shield, but Dee saw the tells, her quick breaths, the way her eyes darted to his hands, then away.


    They slogged through the day, desks pushed close, the air electric with their friction. She’d lean in to jab at his screen, her arm brushing his, and he’d counter, voice low and deliberate... “That’s your glitch, Hinata. Need me to walk you through it?” She’d flush, fire back something biting, but stayed near, her heat a constant tease. By dusk, the office was a ghost town, just them and the glow of screens, Tokyo’s pulse thrumming outside.


    “Run it,” she ordered, standing too close, her tone clipped. He hit enter, the sim whirring, then crashing, his tweak clashing with her structure. She swore, sharp and Japanese, whirling on him. “This is you, you cocky”


    “Easy,” he interrupted, rising, looming over her petite frame. “You’re strangling it with overkill. Let it move.”


    She stepped into him, chest heaving, inches apart. “You don’t tell me how to code, LongStack. You’re a damn amateur.”


    “Dee,” he growled, snagging her wrist as she shoved him. Her pulse hammered under his grip, and she froze, eyes wide, lips parting. The room tightened, her skin burning against his. He squeezed, just enough, and leaned in, voice a rumble. “Say it.”


    She yanked free, but weakly, her breath catching. “You’re an asshole,” she whispered, barely audible, her gaze snagged on his mouth. He could’ve taken her, wanted to, the urge clawing at him—but she stumbled back, face red, grabbing her bag. “I’m out,” she muttered, fleeing into the hall.


    Dee watched her go, pulse racing, a slow grin spreading. She was unraveling, and he’d be there when she snapped.


    He needed a release, and Naoko was the answer. He’d texted her after the mixer... snagged her number from a careless coworker and she’d replied, tentative but fast. ''Drinks? Somewhere quiet,'' he’d offered. She’d hesitated, then agreed, and now he waited at a shadowed izakaya in Shibuya’s backstreets, a low-lit den of wood and whispers. The sake bottle sat half-empty when she slipped in, fifteen minutes late, her black coat buttoned to her chin, eyes darting like a deer in headlights.


    “Dee,” she said, her voice a shaky breath as she eased into the booth, hands twisting in her lap. “I—I shouldn’t be here. If he finds out…”


    “He won’t,” Dee said, smooth and steady, sliding a sake cup her way. His knee nudged hers under the table, a soft claim. “You’re safe with me, Naoko. Breathe.”


    She clutched the cup, her fingers trembling, and took a tiny sip, wincing at the burn. “I’ve never… done this. Sneaking out. It’s reckless.”


    “Reckless can feel good,” he replied, leaning back, his dark eyes tracing her... her tight jaw, the curve of her neck peeking from her coat. “Why’d you come?”


    She swallowed, glancing at the door, then back to him. “You. I don’t know why, but… you’re in my head. Since the mixer.”


    He smiled, slow and warm, letting it sink in. “Good. Been thinking about you too. That dress you wore, damn near stopped my heart.”


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Her cheeks flushed, a nervous laugh slipping out. “It’s just a dress.”


    “Nah,” he said, voice dipping low, intimate. “It’s you in it. Way you move in it, like you’re holding something back. I see it, Naoko. What you need.”


    She stilled, eyes locked on his, her breath shallow. “What do I need?” she whispered, half-daring, half-terrified.


    He leaned in, elbow on the table, his hand brushing hers, deliberate, electric. “Someone to wake you up. Show you what’s been locked away. You feel it, don’t you? That itch.”


    Her lips trembled, and she pulled her hand back, clutching it to her chest. “I’m married, LongStack. I can’t... I shouldn’t even be talking like this.”


    “But you are,” he murmured, his gaze steady, pulling her in. “And you’re still here. That says more than words.”


    The sake flowed, loosening her inch by inch. He kept it light at first, stories of Grenada’s sun, the crash of waves, his mama’s laugh... watching her unwind, her shoulders softening, her laughs coming easier. Her coat slipped open, revealing a simple blouse stretched over full breasts, and he let his eyes linger, unapologetic. She noticed, blushing, but didn’t cover up.


    “You’re bold,” she said, voice steadier now, a hint of awe. “No one’s ever looked at me like that.”


    “Shame,” he replied, his hand finding her knee under the table, resting there, warm and sure. “You deserve it. Deserve more than you’ve had.”


    Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away, her eyes searching his. “What’s more?”


    He slid closer, his thigh pressing against hers, voice a velvet growl. “Me. Tonight. Showing you what your body’s been screaming for. You want that, Naoko?”


    She froze, then nodded, a tiny, frantic jerk of her head, her voice barely a whisper. “Yes.”


    The hotel was a short stumble away, a cheap love nest with dim lights and mirrored walls. She hesitated at the door, hands twisting, but he took her elbow, guiding her in with a gentle firmness. “Relax,” he murmured, locking the door, his lips brushing her ear. “This is for you.”


    Her coat hit the floor, then her blouse, skirt, each piece stripped slow, reverent, revealing pale skin untouched by anyone but a man who didn’t know her worth. She stood in plain lingerie, trembling, arms crossed over her chest. Dee stepped back, drinking her in, full breasts spilling from her bra, hips soft and wide, thighs begging to be parted. “Beautiful,” he said, and meant it, his voice rough with want.


    He kissed her first, slow and deep, tasting her nerves, her surrender, his hands cupping her face as she melted into him. She whimpered, clutching his shirt, and he pulled back, guiding her to the bed. “Lie down,” he said, soft but commanding, and she obeyed, eyes wide, breath ragged.


    He started at her neck, lips trailing fire, sucking gently until she arched, a quiet moan slipping free. Down her chest, peeling her bra away, his tongue circling one nipple, hard, pink... then the other, teasing until she squirmed, hands fisting the sheets. “Dee…” she gasped, voice breaking, and he grinned against her skin, moving lower.


    Her panties slid off, and he spread her thighs, settling between them, his breath hot against her core. She was wet already, glistening, and he groaned, low and hungry. “All for you,” he murmured, then licked... slow, flat, dragging his tongue from her entrance to her clit. She jolted, a cry tearing out, and he did it again, deeper, tasting her... sweet, sharp, alive. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he sucked, lips closing around her clit, tongue flicking relentless, precise.


    Her legs shook, trembling against his shoulders, and he doubled down, burying his face, sucking harder, lapping at her like she was his last meal. She writhed, moans rising... high, desperate, her thighs clamping around his head. “Oh... God... Daniel... Dee...” she choked, and he hummed, the vibration pushing her higher, his tongue plunging inside her, then back to her clit, relentless. Her hands flew to his braids, tugging, and he growled, loving it, sucking until her whole body seized, legs quaking uncontrollably, a scream ripping free as she came, flooding his mouth, her hips bucking wild.


    He didn’t stop, easing her through it, licking soft now, drawing out every shudder until she collapsed, panting, tears streaking her cheeks. He climbed up, kissing her stomach, her breasts, her mouth... letting her taste herself, her eyes dazed, lost in him. “More?” he whispered, and she nodded, frantic.


    He shed his clothes, chain swinging, and entered her... slow, stretching her inch by inch, her walls tight, pulsing from her climax. She gasped, clinging to him, and he moved, deep and steady, every thrust a gift, hitting spots she’d never known. Her nails raked his back, legs wrapping him, and he kept it about her, watching her face, her gasps, speeding up when she begged, slowing when she trembled. She came again, quieter but shattering, her body arching into his, and he followed, a low groan as he spilled, the chain brushing her chest, grounding him.


    She lay there after, wrecked, glowing, his arm around her as she caught her breath. “Never… never like that,” she whispered, voice raw, awed.


    “First of many,” he said, smirking, kissing her forehead. He dressed slow, leaving her curled in the sheets, a woman reborn. Outside, Tokyo thrummed, Hinata’s defiance still simmering in his mind. Naoko was his tonight, body and soul. Hinata’s turn was coming.