InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Cereal Box Romance ❯ New Lover ( Chapter 12 )

Edited by thyme_cat, even thought she's got so many more important things to do! And she's looked at the last couple of chapters twice because I rewrite stuff so much! Thank you!

 

A/N: Before you all tar and feather me for this next chapter, please keep something in mind: heavy drinking can do strange, awful things to people. Some of you may understand exactly what I mean, and for those of you who don't, I hope you never, ever do. This chapter contains adult themes, including lemony content (though very much R rated, so I didn't edit it). Consider yourself warned.

 

Another thing: if all goes well, we close escrow on Wednesday. I've got the next chapter partially written, and I will do my best not to neglect it, but don't panic if the next post takes longer than a couple of weeks. I'm moving (hopefully), and it's a pain in the ass.

 

Disclaimer: I do not own any character created by Rumiko Takahashi

 

Chapter 12 - …New Lover

 

True to his word, the little restaurant to which Kouga led her did, indeed, have the most mouthwatering shrimp she'd ever had the pleasure to eat, complete with sinfully rich garlic-butter dipping sauce. They ate, drank, laughed, and talked as the sun set over the ocean, painting the water in shimmering pinks and oranges. As dusk fell, their waiter lit the little candle on their table, covering it in a simple glass globe. The raucous sounds of a band starting up in an open-air bar down the beach blended with the gentle crash of waves on sand and Kagome couldn't help but think that it was, hands down, the most romantic evening she had ever spent with a guy.

 

Kouga was charming and funny, attending to her every whim and seeing to a few of his own, and by nightfall, they were both thoroughly satiated and more than a little drunk. A warm, pleasant, muzzy haze had fallen over her, but Kagome was too happy to pay it any mind. After a drink or…how many was it now? Oh, well. After a few drinks, it was remarkably easy to slip out of the stranglehold of tension and pain that had suffocated her these past two weeks and relax, bathing in the attentions of a man who obviously cared for her and wasn't just trying to get in her pants.

 

She was on a date, of a sort, and a successful one at that.

 

She should have known better.

 

“Yeah, yeah, they're fine,” Kouga waved his hand in response to her string of questions, narrowly missing knocking his drink over. “Shippo owns a chain of magic shops, Sesshomaru is in big business and Inuyasha owns a couple of…dance…clubs.”

 

“Really?” she squealed and her grin threatened to split her face if it got any wider. She could just see her little kit surrounded by toys and jokes, wowing the children who wandered in with some cleverly disguised fox magic. She supposed that business was a better line of work for Sesshomaru than, say, killing people, which is what he'd been known for in the feudal era. As for her best friend… “Inuyasha learned to dance?”

 

“Ah…haha,” Kouga laughed somewhat awkwardly, as if he were in on some private joke. “Not exactly…”

 

“Oh, Kouga, I'm so glad I found you!” Kagome gushed enthusiastically as she cut him off, her normally clear thoughts staggering from topic to topic. “I thought I'd lost everyone!”

 

Kouga sighed and leaned back in his chair, giving her a bleary, lopsided grin. His words were ever so slightly slurred, but Kagome was not of a mind to notice. “I was pretty shook up when I'd heard that you left for good. A time traveler, who would've thought?” He shook his head and chuckled, his long, unbound black hair flying in the ocean wind that swept through the restaurant's veranda.

 

“How did you…” it suddenly occurred to her that Kouga must have known something about her origins, seeing as he hadn't pissed himself when he'd found her. Eyes widening, she leaned forward in dumbfounded disbelief, “Inuyasha told you about the well?”

 

Kouga smirked and flexed his fingers, the claws that she knew were there blinking in and out of existence. He'd explained about “L'Esprit Cache”, the product demons used to obfuscate their most prominent non-human features. Though with tattoos, contacts, and oddly colored hair dye becoming mainstream, fewer and fewer demons were bothering with it.

 

“Naw, the kitsune did.”

 

Kagome's eyes immediately misted over and she was just about to ask after Shippo when Kouga's next statement tripped her train of thought.

 

“I just about killed that stupid half-breed when I heard what he did.”

 

“Inuyasha? He didn't do anything. Well, anything he didn't normally do. Well,” she corrected herself again and tapped a thoughtful finger against her chin. At least, that was what she meant to do: her finger missed her chin and ended up poking her neck. Kagome giggled and wagged the dissident finger at Kouga. “Actually, he and Sesshm-Sesshomaru got all pervy…”

 

She sighed wistfully, and without thought of her audience, said, “Sesshou was soooo hot...”

 

Kouga choked, spraying Irish coffee onto the white linen tablecloth. Cocking his head and leaning his arms on the table to stop his body from listing to the side, he sputtered, “You gotta be kidding me! You must've been furious about that bet! Isn't that why you left?”

 

Not sure that she was following the conversation, Kagome scratched her head after sipping her coffee. Or whatever it was. It had coffee in it somewhere, she supposed. She didn't bother to analyze why this fact didn't alarm her. “What bet?”

 

“You didn't know about the bet?” At Kagome's shake of the head, his eyes widened. “Oh, wow, those shit-heads.”

 

“Who won?” Kagome asked as she tried to focus on Kouga's serious face. `Right or left,' she wondered as his handsome mug wavered and split into two before blurring back together. `What's in this coffee, anyway?'

 

“You tell me,” Kouga groused, belatedly irritated by Kagome's comment about Sesshomaru's looks. He'd had a head start on the girl by several drinks, and the world was doing a slow, familiar spin around his head.

 

“Kouga, you're not making any sense,” Kagome giggled at his pout.

 

“It was Sesshu-sessh, ah fuck. That mutt-faced lord got you first, didn't he?”

 

“Huh? Nobody `got' me,” Kagome giggled and waved her hands, almost falling out of her seat. “Though not for lack of trying,” she nodded conspiratorially at Kouga's glower. “So, what bet?”

 

Somewhat mollified, Kouga smiled lopsidedly. “Those two shit-for-brains,” Kouga said, giving up on difficult-to-pronounce names, “Bet that they could get you in bed first.”

 

“What, at the same time?” Kagome asked, then blushed and burst out laughing. That had to be the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. `Kinda kinky, too' she mused, and since her inhibitions had taken the night off after the second drink, her mind's eye was filled with swirling shades of silver hair, stripes, puppy ears and two long, wet tongues. She squirmed a little in her seat and tried to give Kouga her attention.

 

“No! They made a bet,” Kouga paused as if talking to a small child, “on who could lay you first. The loser had to keep his hands off.”

 

“Huh?” Kagome asked, Kouga's words filtering through her pickled brain and souring the pleasant buzz, the silver hair in her imagination vanishing in wisps of smoke. That couldn't be right! But then again, it made a sick kind of sense when paired with their behavior and the strange thoughts she'd heard from the taiyoukai. Something about him winning…

 

Misunderstanding, Kouga reiterated one more time. “He who fucked you first, got to keep you.” Moments later, at the pungent smell of salt water that didn't belong to the ocean, he thought that perhaps he could've been more sensitive.

 

“You mean, it was all a bet?” she asked through a shuddering breath, oblivious to the tears that had begun to trickle down her cheeks. “All that groping and kissing and…was just to win a bet? None of it was for me?”

 

Her world shattered, tumbling down around her in brightly colored shards of false dreams. Somewhere among all the lust and chemistry, and completely unbeknownst to her until now, she'd foolishly come to believe that maybe the taiyoukai, just a tiny bit, had come to care for her. After all, he hadn't hurt her all those times they'd gotten worked up but didn't finish, hadn't demanded that she finish him. Didn't that prove that he'd wanted her for something more than a quick screw? Perhaps it just showed that he hadn't wanted her, even for sex; she was just a way to show up his brother. And the fact that she cared so damn much about whether or not he'd wanted her revealed a much more terrifying truth to Kagome: that maybe she, just a tiny bit, had come to care for him.

 

To make matters worse, her best friend, on whom she'd had a crush for four years, had only decided to pursue her to win a stinking bet! She would rather have caught him playing “hide the salami” with Kikyou than to know that she had gone from shard detector to trophy fuck!

 

“Aaaaargh! Those lousy, no good, flea-bitten, over-sexed mongrel dogs! Osuwari!” The volume of her voice rose steadily and her hands clenched and twisted in front of her face, her eyes blazing through the tears. “If I ever get my hands on them…”

 

Kouga stood from his seat and knocked the chair backward, indulging in an appreciative shiver at the raging inferno of feminine fury that was the woman before him. In an act of preservation of future progeny, his sac tightened and his balls crept into his body, just in case her wrath turned on him. Someone cleared her throat and Kouga cast a bleary glance over the rest of the restaurant. The startled, irritated stares of the other patrons met his and he shrugged sheepishly as he lurched to Kagome's side of the table.

 

“They didn't want me!” she wailed as her empty fingers tore imaginary silver hair from the scalps of her tormentors. Strong, masculine wolf arms enveloped her and she welcomed them gladly, latching onto the open ends of his shirt and sobbing into his chest. Shooting another apologetic glance around the restaurant, Kouga bundled her into one arm and tossed a generous wad of bills on the table with the other, escorting the nearly hysterical (and potentially violent - he remembered clearly what `osuwari' did to a certain hanyou) girl out of the restaurant. Sweeping her up into his arms, he carried her down to the edge of the water. He found a place far enough from the restaurants and bonfires that there was no one in sight and settled them down in the sand, rocking her gently.

 

“Why doesn't anyone lo-o-ove me?” she cried against his shirt, twisting her fingers in the fabric. She was creating a large wet spot on his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt but he didn't mind it in the least.

 

Kouga kissed her hair and cuddled her against him. Hadn't he always dreamed of holding her? Comforting her in times of need? Soothing away her tears and showing her just how much she meant to him? She'd never given him the chance before and he sure as hell wouldn't let this one pass him by. “I love you, Kagome. I always have.”

 

“But you m-married Ayam-me!” Weeping harshly, she struggled the words out between wrenching sobs. His arms felt so good! She could just burrow into his chest and live there, all safe and protected. Was this what it was to be loved? Why didn't she love him back? At that moment, she could care less about who she did and didn't love. She didn't even know whom she loved. But she felt loved and she submitted to it, wallowed in it, wrapped herself in it like a security blanket.

 

Kouga stroked her hair and shushed her, getting a little misty-eyed himself. “Only because you wouldn't have me. The wolf tribes needed a strong leader to unify them, and besides…I did make that promise.” He grimaced, remembering the betrothal he'd made to a young wolf demoness, and then denied when she'd come down the mountain to claim him.

 

Kagome's crying wound down to a steady flow of tears as she wrapped her arms around his waist. To be held by someone as he professed his love for her! She'd dreamt of moments like this, though she hadn't been blubbering in those fantasies and the man holding her had silver hair, but to her intoxicated, fuzzy brain, those were mere trivialities. Finally, she was cherished, and it was enough at that moment. Sniffling quietly, she asked, “Did you love her?”

 

Kissing the top of her head as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, he replied, “Yeah, as much as I could. I still miss her, even though it's been years since she died, but…”

 

“I'm so sorry, Kouga,” Kagome whispered and tilted her head back to gaze unfocusedly into his eyes.

 

Kouga shook his head, “She wasn't you. And I would never have hurt you like those two knuckle-dragging dogs.” His breath caught in his throat as she smiled up at him. The face of the woman of his dreams was so close, and though her eyes were red, puffy and shimmering with tears, she was more beautiful than he'd remembered.

 

At the back of Kouga's conscience, he knew that he should have resisted. They were both well past drunk and Kagome was a vulnerable wreck. However, good judgment does not reign supreme in the inebriated mind. Her lost expression and swollen, parted lips called to him and without a second thought, he cupped her cheek and claimed them, for the first time kissing the woman who had haunted him throughout the centuries. She tasted of rum, whiskey, vodka and garlic, but was oh, so delicious.

 

Kagome let him explore her mouth and tried to return the kiss with numb, clumsy lips; the part of her that should have been protesting her actions was snoring in the bushes. He tasted wrong, smelled wrong; the wrong hands pushed up her shirt to fondle her breasts through her bra, but she couldn't find in it in herself to care. The rough caresses seemed to sooth a part of her aching soul, and so what if she felt even colder below that layer of tepid water?

 

She didn't notice that her shirt had been removed and that she was lying down until rough sand scratched her back, the skin oddly insensitive as she shifted over it. Her bra was pushed over her breasts uncomfortably, the elastic and underwire cutting into soft tissue as Kouga took a nipple into his mouth and bit down hard enough to make her jerk in pleasure. Her hands were fisted in his hair, she realized, holding his head to her body. She watched, detached, as her hands released his hair to run themselves over his tanned, muscled shoulders, pretty sure that she had been the one to remove his shirt.

 

`What am I doing?' she wondered vaguely, and then a wad of sand became lodged under the clasp of her bra and distracted her muddled brain.

 

Squirming until she could twist her arms under her back, she unlatched the tight thing, forcing her breast further into Kouga's mouth and earning a rumbling growl of approval. He switched his attentions from one nipple to the other, running a knee between her legs to rest against her panties. Obligingly and with only a half-hearted, unformed second thought, Kagome bent her knees and spread her legs, groaning as he pressed against her, igniting a wanton, tingling ache.

 

The narrow swath of dark hair that extended from his navel to his swim trunks seemed to point the way and her fingers agreeably followed, finding a nylon drawstring and pulling free a careless slipknot. A mouth descended on her, scraping fangs against her lips as she tugged at the waistband of the shorts. Nipping a path of kisses across her cheek and to her ear, he flicked the lobe with the tip of his tongue before biting it gently. Kagome gasped and turned her head to escape the tickle, dragging her ear out of his teeth, only to have him press his lips against hers once more. Her hands finally completed their mission, pushing his shorts down as far down as she could reach, and trailed their way up the backs of his thighs and over his hard buttocks.

 

Kouga growled into her mouth, the animalistic sound exciting instead of scary as he hooked one claw in her panties and tore through the fabric at her hip. His other hand kept him propped above her, hovering just far enough to let her undress him, but low enough to graze her nipples with his chest.

 

“Kagome,” he whispered against her lips, wriggling fingers through the sand beneath her ass and giving the flesh a firm squeeze, “you don't know how much I've wanted this, how long I've waited…”

 

Kagome shifted her hips, his knee against her now bare crotch producing a delightful friction in which she wanted to drown.

 

“I want…” she mumbled, and then gasped when his knee left its happy home, to be replaced by something much more pointed and direct.

 

“I love you, Kagome.” Kouga kissed her hard, and Kagome's eyes widened as the more rational part of her brain gave her a belated nudge.

 

`Wait a second…'

 

And then he was inside her, stretching and filling her in a sensation that was wholly alien and not entirely pleasant. She couldn't help a pained, surprised cry, even when he bumped against the spot that still surged with unfulfilled want. He hooked an arm behind her neck, holding her steady as he moved over her, jouncing her with each quick thrust. Grasping his shoulders, she clung to him as he pushed into her, his pace steady as he grunted into her ear. It chafed a little, as if she should be wetter than she was, and all the jarring was beginning to upset her stomach.

 

`Is this it?' she wondered distractedly between bounces, the full reality of the situation still a distorted image in funhouse mirror. `Is this what all the fuss is about?' Her stomach gave a nasty lurch as the stars reeled giddily above her. `I hope he finishes soon `cause I think I'm gonna…' Saliva flooded her mouth and she grimaced, swallowing it down. “Kouga…”

 

Abruptly, his rhythm became uneven and hurried, his claws tensing to prick the skin of her shoulder. Baring his teeth in a grimace, he stopped pounding into her with one final, rough thrust and shuddered between her legs. “Love you, Kagome!” he panted against her hair.

 

Her stomach twisted as her mouth filled with saliva again, and she pushed against his chest. “Kouga!”

 

He blinked at her, confused, and she clamped her jaw shut, trying not to spew on the sweaty chest above her. Eyes widening, he got the picture and pulled out, flipping her onto her knees and gathering her hair into his fist in one slightly fumbled movement. Kagome exploded a moment later, her stomach expelling its contents in a hot, putrid, projectile stream. Over and over, her gut clenched and her body heaved until she felt hollow and shaky. Tears streamed down her face and her nose leaked, her head swam dizzily and the only thing keeping her upright was Kouga's arm under her bare breasts. He was leaning a flushed cheek between her shoulder blades, murmuring inane things that were probably meant to be comforting, but Kagome was oblivious to everything but her clenching, rebellious stomach.

 

Finally, her heaving stopped and she went limp against his arm, panting as the world swam around her. She was so very tired; she just wanted to sleep. Her eyes drifted shut even as she was lifted off of the ground and cool, salty water was splashed over her face.

 

“Go to sleep, Kagome, I've got you,” Kouga told her and, exhausted and drunk, she did just that.

 

XxxxxxxX

 

The dark, sleeping city breathed around him in softly exhaled columns of steam that rose from manholes in the street, carrying the stench of human waste and pollution past his sensitive nose. Sesshomaru ignored it, the tiny, transient wrinkles that creased his nose appearing unconsciously, and then smoothing as if they'd never existed. His silent footsteps carried him through pools of lamplight more brilliant than the moon that was sliced by wires slung from pole to pole, his ears twitched as they caught the sounds of chattering televisions, human voices risen in anger, the distant crack of a car backfiring. He didn't glance up as a motorcycle roared by, shaking the air with artificial thunder and dispersing the clouds, only to have them reform a moment later, showing no trace of passage. Shoving his hands further into the pockets of his jeans and hunching his shoulders slightly against the clammy feel of the night against his bare arms and face, he tried to convince his feet that their wandering was futile.

 

He was supposed to be tucked into a velvet-lined booth with a martini in one hand and a female in the other, wearing an expensive silk suit and Italian leather shoes, not walking the streets of an old part of Tokyo in jeans and a white tee shirt, woefully empty-handed.

 

His fingers tensed in his pockets, curling slightly against the thick denim. It wasn't that he wanted to be in that booth, per se, but he didn't like this aimless roaming, either. It was at these dark hours of the morning when weariness settled into his bones and seething restlessness stirred in the pit of his stomach. Most nights, he was able to ignore it and bury himself in something, whether it be female or paperwork (and just the latter for the past few years, his mind supplied bitterly), but on nights like these, when his feet refused to listen and his thoughts wound themselves into self-deprecating knots, that he had the distinct impression that he was fooling himself. How, he wasn't quite sure, but he was uneasy that the answer was within easy grasping range if only he knew where to reach, and it would be gallingly, embarrassingly clear once found.

 

The sharp stinging scent of burnt wood, melted plastic and oxidized metal, mixed with the pungent aroma of fresh sawdust teased away the stench of the city and he blinked slowly, finally realizing to where his feet had led him. They were tracking her.

 

Sesshomaru huffed; the only visible sign a slight flaring of his nostrils. For some reason, he wasn't surprised; it seemed that even when he wasn't thinking about her, he was still thinking about her. He tried to be annoyed but only managed a curl of anticipation that maybe tonight would be the night he found her…and oh, what he'd do with her...

 

His arms twitched as if aching to embrace her and he suddenly found himself wishing that he'd brought along his little treasure, the absence of her scent sending a deep, hot blade of yearning sliding through his gut. Then again, his well-fitted jeans were already beginning to feel a bit snug and he didn't have much more room to grow. He much preferred his silk hakama: loose, soft and not inclined to catch sensitive male skin between metal teeth.

 

Was she close, lying awake and wondering what had become of him, perhaps waiting for him to find her? Or was she planning her next excursion through the well, still unaware of his interest? Was she even in the present? Could she be five hundred years in the past, pressing her soft flushed body against his as he explored the sweet depths of her mouth?

 

His shoulders tightened and tensed, straining his white tee shirt against the muscles of his chest. `This is ridiculous,' he thought as he came to a sudden halt on the sidewalk. `I am not jealous of myself.'

 

Why had he let her disappear into the well and out of his life? Why had he not dragged her ass back out of the dank pit when he'd sensed the stirring of magic, or tried the portal himself? Why had he let her fly away on the firecat instead of knocking the beast out of the sky and flying away with her himself? Why had he made that stupid, petty bet in the first place? At the first scent of his brother, he should have simply stolen her away to woo in her peace and solitude.

 

His glowing golden eyes narrowed in irritation. To his chagrin, he was becoming regretful and maudlin. `I do not miss the miko.' The scent of a recent fire simply reminded him of Rin. That was all.

 

Before he knew it, his traitorous feet were moving again, following the same path that his Miko Receiver had led him last time. With the slightest shrug of resignation, he let his feet guide him, trying to stuff the growing eagerness into a dusty corner of his mind and failing utterly. His steps quickened without his consent until he found himself flying up a long flight of steps in a wholly undignified manner, passing under a blackened wooden tori and into a shrine compound.

 

The scorched earth was littered with piles of freshly cut lumber and rutted with deep tire tracks that led to and from a half-gutted house. Newly built skeletons of walls stood in holes of the house, the clean, golden wood in stark contrast against the sooty grime of the walls still standing. His eyes narrowed as they traced the seams between creation and destruction, life and death. Idly, he wondered if the inhabitants of this ruined shrine had survived the scorching tongue of flame that had claimed their home. If so, they would be luckier than many. They would be luckier than his Rin.

 

It had been a hot, dry, gusty evening and he had left camp to escape her hopeful, beckoning eyes. He couldn't have done that with Rin, no matter how much she may have wanted it. Not Rin, who he'd raised from little more than a pup. He wasn't even sure that she had known what she'd wanted, other than to please him. So, he'd fled for both of their sakes, returning only when the heavy scent of smoke had permeated the air. Jaken had survived the wildfire that the wind had stirred from their little campfire, but only barely so, his blackened, leathery hide a testament to his efforts to help Rin. That night, Sesshomaru had learned a hard lesson in human frailty and the limits of Tenseiga's power.

 

Together, they'd buried her amongst the flowers she had so loved. Each bobbing white blossom stared at him with a single yellow eye, condemning him for failing to protect one human girl. An inquisitive, happy, silly, noisy girl. His girl. Without a word, Jaken had laid the Staff of Two heads over the freshly turned earth and tottered off, his small back bent under grief and guilt. Sesshomaru had let him go.

 

He shook his head, his long braid twisting against his back as he banished the memory. What was wrong with him tonight? He was not usually prone to fits of melancholy. He should have gone out like he'd originally planned: at least then he'd have more than his own fruitless thoughts to keep him company.

 

Snorting, he clenched his hands in his pockets. `This Sesshomaru is not lonely.' He seriously needed to get laid. Which brought him back to the object of his search.

 

Turning back toward the steps leading out of the shrine, he stopped as movement caught his eye. Abandoning thoughts of leaving for this new curiosity, he carefully trod the uneven ground to the yellow strips of police tape that fluttered from an enormous, ancient tree. Miraculously untouched, despite its proximity to the burned out remains of a shack, it rose tall and proud, stretching thick branches toward the starless night sky. An oddly shaped scar, wide in the middle and pointed on the top and bottom, marred the trunk. Pulling a hand out of his pocket, he ran his fingertips over the blemish, touching a small hole in the upper right corner.

 

A pulse of recognition coursed through him and he spun toward the scattering of charcoal and debris that had once been a small structure. His eyes were drawn to the center, where the pile thinned out and the longer boards bowed as if there were nothing underneath them. Picking his way over another line of slack police tape and through the charred, splintered remains of what may have been a short staircase, he stopped short of a gaping hole in the earth, almost obscured by soggy, blackened wood. A flood of adrenaline surged through his body, sending his blood screaming through his veins and his heart thrashing frantically against the inside of his chest.

 

It was an old well.

 

XxxxxxxX

 

Morning dawned harsh and cruel against her eyelids, triggering a pounding in her head that twisted her stomach and she groaned, rolling out of bed and onto unsteady feet. Glancing frantically around unfamiliar surroundings, she had enough time to realize that she was in a studio apartment and that the bathroom was to her right before her gut reminded her that hurlage was immanent. She'd made use of the toilet, spitting acrid bile out of her mouth, and rinsed her mouth and face in the sink before she realized that she was quite naked.

 

“How's my woman?” a raspy male voice asked and Kouga grinned at her from the mirror over the sink as he wrapped his arms around her middle.

 

`Oh kami,' Kagome swore silently through the throbbing in her temples. Something undeniably masculine was pressed against her backside, and it was just as unclothed as she was. `Oh, no kami. I didn't.' All evidence to the contrary, from the thing resting between her cheeks to the stickiness on her thighs to the soreness between her legs, not to mention her own hazy, warped memories of sand and touching and joined bodies, pointed to the very likely conclusion that she, in fact, had.

 

“Um, I think I'd like a shower…” His grin widened and he planted a kiss on her shoulder. “Alone,” she added quickly.

 

“Oh,” he said as his face fell, but his disappointment didn't last for long. “Yeah, I bet you feel pretty shitty. I'll get you some towels and a robe and start some breakfast.” At her peaked, horrified look, he corrected himself. “Well, maybe no breakfast. Just holler if you need anything!” With another kiss to her collarbone, he all but bounced out of the bathroom.

 

“Stupid youkai and their metabolisms,” she grumbled as she closed the door behind him. “I feel like I was the ball in a game of soccer and he is downright chipper. I know he had more to drink than I did.” She frowned at the sallow, drawn face reflected in the mirror. `I bet it has something to do with getting laid.'

 

At the reminder of bets and sex, the kind she'd wanted and the kind she'd just had, her heart constricted in her chest painfully. Pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, she fiddled with the tap until she got a hot spray of water in Kouga's tiny shower, and then let loose the floodgate of tears. Steam rose around her in humid clouds as the water scalded her back and dripped into her eyes, washing away the proof of her regret.

 

Hugging herself tightly, she cried as silently as she could. She wasn't in love with Kouga; she wasn't even in lust with him. For days, she'd resisted the advances of Inuyasha and Sesshomaru, one who she'd loved, the other she'd wanted, and after a few drinks with Kouga, she let him fuck her in the sand? `What's wrong with me?'

 

At least now she knew exactly where she stood in the hearts of both inuyoukai: absolutely nowhere. She'd been a piece of ass, nothing more than a conquest. She didn't even want to find them, the disgusting perverts. Well, yes she did, but how dare they treat her like a piece of property to be bought and sold and won! In any case, Kouga loved her and had told her so, many times, even when he hadn't been taking her maidenhead. It didn't excuse her promiscuous behavior, but it made her feel a tad justified.

 

Well, he'd said that he loved her but how could she really know without a Wolf Decoder? On the flip side, how could she even depend on the stupid things when she had missed such an obvious bit of information from the taiyoukai's head? Unconsciously, her left thumb stroked the back of her right ring finger, feeling for the embossed plastic disc that she suddenly missed.

 

“Kagome?” Kouga poked his head around the shower curtain and gazed at her with concerned, affectionate blue eyes. “I thought I smelled tears.”

 

“No, I'm fine,” Kagome said quickly, startled out of her thoughts, and then covered her breasts with her arms. “Kouga!” she protested, trying to tug the shower curtain shut over his face. At least he wasn't leering at her.

 

“What? You're my woman now, in every sense of the word.” This time, he did leer at her, his eyes lingering over the water that slid around her pubes. Kagome blushed and glowered at him. “I know it probably wasn't that great last night, you being sick and all, but I promise it'll get better!”

 

`What makes him think it will ever happen again?' she wondered in utter amazement at his audacity. “Kouga,” she started, but he plunged ahead, cutting her off.

 

“And don't worry! I'll marry you and make it ligit. I know humans are into that stuff.”

 

“But Kouga-“

 

“No need to thank me, Kagome! Anything for my woman.” He grinned and gave her a quick kiss on the lips, disappearing with a flick of his dark ponytail.

 

`I'm never going to drink like that again,' Kagome vowed silently. She had heard that alcohol affected one's judgment and inhibitions, but she'd never really understood what that had meant. If they had been in Vegas, she would probably be married to the thick-skulled wolf already. `Thank the kami for small miracles,' she thought sarcastically. `I suppose I don't have to worry about him not calling.'

 

The thought didn't comfort her.

 

After scrubbing at her face and privates, wincing at the soreness that sharpened last night into frightening clarity, she shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. Kouga had left her two fluffy towels and an enormous white bathrobe; one of his own, she was sure. She twisted her hair into one of the towels and shrugged into the robe, tying the oversized garment firmly about her waist. With a deep breath and some serious mental rallying, Kagome opened the bathroom door and stepped into the main room of the apartment.

 

She had to admit that it was more than a few steps above his wolf den of old. One wall was floor to ceiling windows with several French doors that opened onto a long balcony. Beyond it, below a one-story drop, the sand stretched into the ocean. On any other day, she would have sighed in bliss, but this morning, the glare of the sun off the water shot needles into her brain. Shading her eyes, she glanced over at the rumpled bed where they had obviously been sleeping.

 

`I slept with a man. I slept with Kouga.' She shivered and looked away from the bed. `Does that make me a tramp or a normal woman?'

 

Padding over the hardwood floor of the spacious studio apartment, she found Kouga bustling around a tiny, bare kitchen. Her stomach rolled uncomfortably at the smell of coffee and she switched to breathing through her mouth without being too conspicuous about it.

 

“Sorry, Kagome, I don't have much in the way of food. This is just my beach pad-“

 

“I'm really not that hungry,” she reaffirmed, waving away a package of sausage that he pulled from the fridge. `I thought we agreed no breakfast?'

 

“I won't let my woman starve,” Kouga frowned at her, popping a couple of pieces of bread into the toaster. “You puked your guts out last night, so you need to eat. You're too thin, anyway.”

 

`That is going to get old, fast,' she thought, but her head was pounding and she was too tired, physically and emotionally, to put up much of a fight. She sat at the small kitchen table and dropped her face in her hands. “Kouga, I need to go home so that my mom doesn't worry.” `Any more than she already is,' Kagome added silently, `and for good reason.'

 

Kouga plopped a couple of aspirin, a glass of water, and two pieces of buttered toast in front of her, and she leaned back, eyeing it as she tried to determine whether or not her stomach would accept it. When it didn't protest violently, she swallowed the aspirin and nibbled a corner of a piece of toast, trying to return his relieved smile. “If you could give me my clothes and show me where the bus stop is…”

 

Kouga snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. “My woman isn't taking the bus. I'll drive you. I should meet my future mother-in-law, anyway.”

 

“That isn't necessary, really, I can-“

 

“Won't hear of it.”

 

Sighing, Kagome massaged her pounding temples. “Kouga, last night was…”

 

“The best night of my life! So far…” he shot her a suggestive grin that made her stomach cramp.

 

`Ew, I almost barfed on him. It couldn't have been that good. Then again, maybe he meant the company instead of the sex?' She blinked and took an absent bite of toast. `I can't believe I had sex with Kouga.'

 

“How's your stomach? Feeling better?” he asked when it was apparent that Kagome was lost in her own thoughts. She probably couldn't believe her good fortune; he knew he sure couldn't. Sure, over the centuries he'd had countless fantasies of finding her, proclaiming his love, and having her fall into his arms. He would erase all thoughts of those filthy, crass dogs from her mind with a night of mind-blowing passion and then live the rest of his life as the happiest wolf on the planet with his lovely mate by his side. Granted, events hadn't unfolded quite like he'd imagined: her chunks had blown instead of her mind. In fact, he was pretty sure he hadn't pleased her like a mate should, an injustice he would have to rectify sooner rather than later. It was probably the fault of the alcohol. With a frown, he said, “I don't think I'll let my woman drink so much again.”

 

`Say it, Kagome. Say, “I'm not your woman,”' she scolded herself. Why couldn't she lash out at the wolf like she had Inuyasha and Sesshomaru? Put him in his place with a few barbed comments and stop this silliness before it got any worse?

 

Just as with Hojo, she'd never been able to come right out and break his heart. She'd blushed and giggled when the wolf demon held her hands and professed his love, sometimes rolling her eyes. Of course, she'd never gone and slept with Hojo, so the situations weren't quite the same…

 

“Kouga, I'm not, I mean, we're not…”

 

“You are. We are. Any youkai could smell it,” he pointed out matter-of-factly.

 

Crap. Maybe this was what Sango had been trying to tell her when she'd mentioned differences in demon and human traditions all those days…centuries…ago. `Don't think about it,' Kagome pushed the thought away and took another bite of toast, waiting for her voice to steady. “But-“

 

“Eat up, Kagome, and I'll get your clothes,” he left her with a wide grin and Kagome resignedly munched on her toast. Once she felt a bit better, she would talk some sense into the pushy wolf. One night in the sack (or sand) did not a fiancé make.

 

She hadn't even enjoyed it.

 

 

 

 

 

A/N: Remember - if you kill me now, I won't be able to finish the story.