LYING ON THE COUCH GETTING SPANKED

Soon, Jada was letting Ayano hang out at her apartment. It wasn't as fancy as his, but she had finally put away anything that could give the smallest hint of her Chesha Neko identity by now, so she let him. 

On a Wednesday night, he was sitting on Jada’s couch. It had been about a month since he arrived in New York. He had been in meetings all day, developing plans for getting rid of impurities encountered during the copper extraction process from his mines. They had dinner together at an outdoor cafe and went to Jada’s to spend the night. Jada changed into pajamas that were somewhere between sexy and sleep clothes, not having any particular motive for the evening. She wore a sapphire blue camisole, cotton with lace detail, and matching boyshort panties. She came into the living room and sat beside him, watching TV as she waited for him to stop working on his PalmPilot.

“I’ll be right off, printesa mea… we just have a tellurium problem,” Ayano said distractedly. Jada hadn’t a clue what tellurium was, nor did she care to ask.

“I need the other remote. Pass it to me?” Jada asked, pointing to it on the end table on the other side of him. He kept typing.

“Hmm?” he asked.

“Forget it,” she said, and leaned over him to reach it herself.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, realizing he hadn’t been listening. The length of her body was across his lap. He smacked her on the ass playfully.

“Oh!” she said in surprise, but also to get his attention.

“You like that?” Ayano said, putting down the PalmPilot on the end table. He smacked her ass a little harder, three more times.

“I think I do,” she wriggled on top of him, still lying across his lap. “Keep going.” Each time, he hit her a little harder. It hurt a little at first. Then, she just let it happen and felt the pain melt into pleasure. Her skin started to tingle and get very hot. Something about it felt very wicked. 

“What else do you want?” he whispered, his hand lingering on her ass.

“Slap my bare ass,” she told him softly, covering her mouth with her hands, which were balled up nervously. She felt his erection beneath her, pushing against her stomach. This gave her another surge of heat.

“Alright,” he complied calmly, pulling down her boyshorts slowly with one hand. Then, he left her panties halfway down her thighs. He slapped her ass, this time making a louder sound and inflicting a little more delicious pain.

“Aaaaugh!” she moaned, savoring the shock and the thrill. And maybe performing for him a tiny bit. He grabbed a handful of each ass cheek, squeezing and spreading them apart.

“Look at your pussy,” he marveled. “So fucking juicy.”

“Mmm… please touch my pussy…” she begged, writhing and pushing towards his hands. “Make me cum…”

“You think I should let you cum already?” he asked her. He slapped her ass a few more times and then squeezed it again, biting one of the cheeks with a growl.

“Fuck! Ayano…” she panted. She felt so turned on. She pulled her tits out of her top, aching to be touched everywhere. He grabbed a nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed. “Aaaaah!”

“Did that hurt?” he asked her.

“Mmm hmm… do it again…” she murmured, captivated. After he pinched her nipples again, she wondered what he would do next. Inexplicably, she trusted him completely and would let him do anything to her body, just as she had their first time together. He hit her ass again and lightly grazed her pussy’s opening with his fingertips.

“You ever been spanked before?” he questioned her, very intrigued.

“No, never. Just with you…”

“But you used to want someone to spank you? A disciplinarian, when you were younger?” he pressed. Her face turned as pink as her ass.

“Yes….” she admitted hesitantly.

“Who was it? Who did you fantasize about?” he asked, steadily caressing her ass and thighs and deliberately avoiding her pussy.

“Mmm, I don’t want to say…” she said, genuinely embarrassed but still trying to sound sultry.

“Tell me,” he demanded, abruptly pushing his middle finger inside her pussy. It slid in easily.

“Uhn!” she grunted, shocked. She resolved to save her orgasm for a little longer.

“Was it… an older man?” he guessed.

“Uh huh…” she said, holding her breath. She tossed her long black hair away from her face.

“Tell me, or I’ll stop,” he pushed his finger inside her and spanked her again with his other hand. He felt her squeeze his finger and her pussy got even wetter and hotter.

“He… he was my friend Ana’s father…” She couldn’t believe he was questioning her like this, but she didn’t want him to stop.

“Why did you want him to spank you?” he asked, fucking her pussy with his fingers slowly.

“The way he looked at me… He thought I was a bad influence on his daughter, but he liked my acting, my painting… He liked talking to me...but he wanted me to stay away.”

“Was he right? Were you a bad influence?” Ayano took out his soaking wet finger and spanked her again. She could feel how wet his fingers were against her flesh. Then he went back to rubbing her inner labia.

“Mmmph…” she moaned, breathing heavily in an effort to not cum yet.

“You liked that he knew you were bad…”

“Uh huh…”

“What did you like about him?” he asked.

“He was British, and very restrained… Everything between us was a secret.” She felt like she was going to lose her mind if he didn’t fuck her soon.

“Was he right about you?” he pressed again, spreading her labia apart.

“Yes! Oh god, Ayano, please fuck me! Don't make me beg!” She leaned back, searching for his fingers.

“Did he fuck you?” He pushed her back on his lap and held her in place.

“Um, no…” she said in a small voice.

“What did he do?” He was getting so hard listening to her talk about this.

“He…” she began. Ayano hit her ass one more time. “He ate my pussy…” she said in a whisper.

“Where were you?” He held her down against his lap firmly.

“It was on a ski trip… I didn’t tell anyone…” She felt her pussy tremble. She hadn't told anyone about this, not ever. 

“Good girl,” he said, reaching forward to stroke her clit. That was all it took for her to have a powerful orgasm. A paroxysm went through her, all the way down her legs, and she made a beautiful erotic sound. Her heart tumbled in her chest. 

When she caught her breath, she slid backwards to place her head over his lap and find his cock. She undid his belt and fumbled with his pants, desperate to have him in her mouth. She pulled it out and quickly put her tongue over his entire cock before she shoved it down her throat. Her lips made a tight O around his shaft as her head bobbed up and down. Ayano ran his fingers down her back, enjoying the passion they created. Her lips smacked loudly as she released his dick. He quickly pulled her onto his lap and kissed her intensely. He took her panties the rest of the way off and threw them aside.

“You gonna fuck me now?” She could feel his hard dick under her thighs.

“I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop,” he said, rubbing her pussy again. He loved how incredibly wet she was, how responsive she was to every touch.

“I’ll last longer than you…” she challenged.

“Not if I smack your ass while I fuck you.”

“And bite my tits?” she asked and bit his lip. She faced him and they positioned her open legs over his cock. He spread her lips open again, watching as she took his cock in, inch by inch. Then he began to squeeze and smack her ass as she bounced up and down on top of him. He felt how she contracted around his shaft every time he made contact with her ass. The sounds she made were so grateful, so appreciative. She held him close and clawed her fingers through the hair on the back of his head as he kissed her neck. When she leaned back slightly, he put a nipple in his mouth and lightly used his teeth to stimulate it.

“Oh fuck, Ayano!” she rocked her hips against him quickly. She could not get enough of his hard, hot flesh. Each movement felt even better than the last. They kept going as long as they could. He slapped her across the ass one last time and they both climaxed. It felt profoundly satiating to experience it simultaneously. 

They clutched each other, both feeling the light dew of sweat on each other’s backs. Her erect nipples were pressed hard into his chest. Every nerve in her body was throbbing with intensity. It was hard to believe she could feel like this without the help of drugs or alcohol.

“I don’t want to move from this spot,” he whispered into her ear.

“Me either,” she purred. She held him for a long time. He eventually broke the silence.

“Mmm, let’s go shower. We’ll do this again later,” he said sensibly. “I promise.” He smiled and kissed her again.

Jada wanted to be with him as often as possible to see what else they could do together. She was tempted to tell him how she felt in that moment. Like many young women, she thought that being with him was a panacea for all types of old wounds. She needed him and she loved needing him—that is all there was.

MORNING AFTER

The next morning, Jada had to be at the gallery at 8 for a delivery. Ayano didn’t have to be anywhere until lunchtime. Around 6:30, Jada’s alarm clock went off. She groaned in protest as she extracted herself from Ayano to shut it off. For a moment, she laid her head back on the pillow. Then she reminded herself that no one else was available to meet the truck and the delivery company would be pissed if they had to come back again some other time. It would be a stupid move to piss them off, they delivered to her gallery frequently. 

She got up and swung her legs off the bed and onto the floor. Before she could stand, Ayano stealthily grabbed her around the waist and pulled her backwards.

“You sneaky fucker!!” she laughed. “I have to get going!” Ayano pulled her closer and closer to his body, kissing her bare shoulder and neck. 

“I can’t keep my hands off you,” he claimed, pulling her under the sheets once again. “Just be with me for a few more minutes,” he requested suavely. One of his hands rested on the soft flesh where her hip met her belly, caressing it in invitation. Jada felt her body’s familiar prickle of excitement. 

“Mmm, don’t tempt me. Five minutes,” she stated, wrapping his arms around her and avoiding any naughty parts. 

“I think you can spare twenty minutes. Let me adore you just a little longer, Jada. I’m so lucky to have met you. You know, in Romania, I was hopelessly bored, not interested in anything anymore. I forgot the effect a good woman can have on life. You inspire great things in me,” he purred into her ear. His hands kept still as he tried to persuade her to stay with his words.

“I’ve never met anyone like you. I don’t stop thinking about you all day,” she whispered with the candor of a young woman who had no idea how hard a heart could break. Why not throw caution to the wind and love him with everything?

“I want to awaken everything inside you…” he rasped. He kissed her neck again tenderly and moved his fingers gently along her stomach. 

“Oh god, Ayano, you do things to me I didn’t know were possible…” she said, arching her back. She was afraid she sounded sentimental and young. Her body begged her to stay in bed. She wore Ayano like a cloak, surrounding her and sheltering her. All of the “ought-to”s and “should”s slid right off. 

“Yeah, you liked what we did last night, didn’t you? You’re going to try so many new things with me. We’ll find out what else makes you cum like that…” he promised in a low voice. She exhaled shakily. She knew he was trying to captivate her and make her stay but she didn’t care. 

“You’ve got goosebumps,” he said quietly. She moaned softly, curling her toes in anticipation of what he was going to do next. “Maybe I should spank you some more. Would you like that?” he whispered.

“Yeah…” she admitted helplessly. Her body temperature was starting to rise. 

“You want me to lean you up against the bed and smack your ass?” he said, not touching the parts she wanted him to touch, keeping her arousal just out of reach.

“No, it has to be over your lap…” she started to say, picturing him dominating her again like he did the previous night. 

“Tell me why,” he instructed. He was withholding pleasure until he got what he wanted from her.

“Because I like to lie across your lap and feel you get hard while you slap my ass,” she whispered, remembering the hot sting on her skin. “And my nipples get so hard while my tits bounce when you smack me. And then you grab my tits. And make me tell you everything you want to know…” she continued. Ayano’s hands made little movement, waiting for her to earn her release. But unexpectedly, as she pictured him dominating her, the images in her mind made her orgasm without a single touch to her erogenous zones. Not once, but twice, as the fantasy played on in her head and she felt his hands on the precipice of doing it all again. She let out a surprised and delicate moan.

“Fuck, Ayano, just fucking thinking about that makes me cum,” she gasped. Immediately, she felt him press his hard cock up against her from behind.

“You came just thinking about playing with me?” he asked incredulously, feeling her hard nipples.

“Twice,” she whispered in a scandalous tone and moving her long hair off the back of her neck. He ventured between her legs to feel for himself. His fingertips got very wet the second he touched her pussy, enticing him further. 

“You did… fuck... you are so fucking wet, it’s unbelievable,” he breathed. He could only play with the lips of her pussy for a moment before he had to be inside her. Still spooning her, he raised one of her thighs to stick his cock inside her smooth pussy. She gasped again. “Your pussy is so fucking wet,” he said excitedly, feeling his dick getting covered in her hot cum. She heard him groan and he slid in and out. 

“Fuck… I really have to go soon. Go fast…” she insisted, moving her hips with the subtle skill of a belly dancer.

“You’re so cruel,” he told her, grinning as he kept pushing his cock in and out. She brought her hips back and forth roughly, hoping to make him cum soon. He grabbed her bouncing tits roughly.

They kept going as she moaned. Concerned about the time, she made her muscles squeeze his cock as tightly as she could.

“That’s so… fucking… good…” he grunted, cumming for her easily. They both paused to catch their breath. Jada turned around and gave him a kiss.

“You’re making me late,” she said playfully.

“You’re making me want to fuck you all day,” he retorted. 

“Don’t pout. You can punish me tonight,” she grinned while he slapped her ass as she left the bed to get ready. She took a quick shower, having no time to wash her hair. For the next fifteen minutes, she ran around the apartment getting dressed and assembling things that belonged in her purse. Ayano half-dozed in bed, vaguely watching her hurry. She loved his messy black hair in the mornings. He looked like a rock star even when he was rolling around in bedsheets. 

“Here’s my key for when you leave. See you for dinner?” she asked. 

“Yeah, but we’re not going out,” he said, interlocking his fingers behind his head. “The second we’re done eating, we’re coming right back to bed.”

“Okay. Call me at the gallery," she instructed, giving him a kiss goodbye. And then another, in that new couple-y way of not wanting to leave each other. She saw him bring his arm forward to grab her again and she slapped it away. Her leather heels clipped and clopped on the floor as she walked away, giving him one more flirtatious look before she left.   

The sex was amazing, no doubt in her mind. There was rarely a problem with the sexual aspect of her relationships. In the past, she was always drawn to those that couldn’t reciprocate the affection, loyalty, and romance that she freely gave them. Now, she shied away from the mushy stuff because he withheld it sometimes. It was addictive, to pursue risky people. The sex would make them happy together temporarily, but the dance of almost having emotional intimacy was the real gamble. Yes, buying a lottery ticket rarely worked, but people all over the world buy them because the payoff would be enormous and buying the ticket was also buying a daydream of a better life. Dating men like Ayano rarely led to a happy ending, but the daydream that it might distracted her from any and all problems, large and small. 

JADA’S BIRTHDAY

A few days later, it was her birthday, June 12th. It was a well-known day in Brazil—it’s when they celebrated their Valentine’s Day each year. Jada kept that to herself most of the time, not wanting people to know how special she thought this was. Surely, she’d be laughed at for her sentimentality.  

During the day, she was at the gallery as usual. A delivery truck pulled up outside. A man with a large bouquet of exotic flowers walked in and had her sign for it. Her employees oohed and ahhed but dared not ask who it was from. The card was attached to a large manila envelope. She opened the card. 

“More to come, Ayano. P.S. The metals in the vase are from Romania,” it said in perfect cursive letters. It was almost calligraphy. Underneath the red roses and bougainvillea was a metal vase with flattened copper handprints wrapped around it. She thought it was an awful lot of effort to put into a fling… He was making it difficult for her to be aloof, or at least appear that way. The large manila envelope instructed her to open it in private, so she took the delivery and brought it into her office.

She opened the envelope and tilted it downward. Metal handcuffs fell into her hand. She laughed out loud. It was true, she did ask for them. Never in her life had she gotten a gift like this before. She put the keys in her wallet for safekeeping. She called up one of her friends to gush about the gift, but didn’t mention the handcuffs. 

That evening, her friends—some from art school, others from capoeira—threw her a party at her friend Sam’s house. He was a trust fund baby with an enormous loft and a drinking problem, so he always threw the best parties. It was too soon to have Ayano meet all her friends. Most of them were much younger than him, like she was. She made no plans to see him that evening, but made sure to call him to thank him for the gift, saying they’d talk later. 

It was past one in the morning. Jada rang the second-floor doorbell at Ayano’s brownstone. She had been to Sam’s party and then some of them went bar-hopping, so she was pretty wasted. After the second bar, everyone had thought she got a cab to go home but she had a last-minute change-of-heart.

“Yes?” his voice sounded from the intercom. “Oh, Jada!” he said before she said anything. He must’ve had cameras out there somewhere.

“Sorry to stop by unann...unan… without calling. Is that bad? That’s bad, isn’t it?” she asked, leaning against the front door.

“No, just the opposite. I’ll come get you,” his voice cut off. Within a few moments, he came downstairs and opened the door. He was still dressed. 

“Hi,” she said, a big smile on her face. She was holding her black high heels in her hand, feet bare. She was wearing a mid-length purple-blue halterneck dress and carrying her multicolored, sequined purse. 

“What a nice surprise,” he said, smiling just as much as she was. 

“Can you show me where to sit down and then you have a drink? I don’t need a drink but you need at least one,” she said, taking his hand and coming inside. 

“Come into the living room,” he said. He directed her to the couch. His dining room table had empty glasses in front of the chairs and a couple of ashtrays, the house still smelling of smoke. “Did you have fun tonight?” he asked as he walked over to the dining room table to grab his drink. 

Jada put down her things and sat down. She sank into the couch, put her arms along the couch’s back, and crossed her legs.

“I did. We all did. I smoked some pot, though, and that was a bad idea I think. It sounded like a good idea at the time,” she sighed.

“It always does when you’re drunk,” he said sympathetically. 

“I liked your present,” she told him, lighting up. She remembered: that’s what she wanted to talk about. 

“Yeah?” he said, peering at her over the rim of the vodka tumbler. He sat down on the other side of the couch. 

“Yup. It was very thoughtful. Thank you for not insulting me with those cute fuzzy handcuffs. Now, I’m going to show you something,” she said, rummaging through her purse and pulling out the handcuffs and their keys. “I’m gonna show you a magic trick. That is why you got these for me, right?!” she laughed. She handed him the keys.

“You like ‘em?” he asked. “I’m such a good listener.”

“Watch. This is a good brand, too. Nothing in my hands.” She showed him. “Put them on me,” she said, turning around and putting her arms in the under-arrest position behind her back. He put them on her wrists firmly. 

“There. They’re on,” he said, looking amused. She spun around. 

“Alright. If I weren’t drunk, this would be way faster.” She wriggled slightly and did something behind her back. There was a two-second struggle and then she brought her hands out again, without the cuffs on. She held them by their chain, the cuffs still closed. “Ta-da!”

“Wow. That’s actually pretty impressive. How’d you learn to do that? Have you ever been arrested, my dear?” he asked. Jada gave him a wicked grin and walked closer to him. She put her knees on either side of his lap and knelt, talking to him up close. 

“Maybe I do something bad. Maybe I do stuff that would get me in trouble with the police. Maybe I have a secret reason I needed to learn Răz-nevă,” she teased.

“Oh?” he said, trying to evaluate how serious she was being.

“So, I heard some rumors about you.” She pointed a finger into his chest. “At the pub in Marseille. So there’s something about you and there’s something about me.” Her voice was overly animated from the alcohol. Ayano gave her a furtive smile, not revealing a thing.

“You tell me what you do,” he suggested. He had to go for it. Her internal vault of secrets was clearly out of order. 

“You have a good poker face, guy,” she said, straddling him. “Maybe I’m not the interrogator I thought I was.”

“You show me yours, I’ll show you mine,” he said evasively, putting his hands behind her back so she wouldn’t fall off of him. She smiled like a drunk with a secret, exactly what she was. She got focused and made eye contact with him for a long time, sizing him up.

“Who do you think’s badder, me or you?” she finally said, in a low sexy voice and pressing her breasts against his chest.

“It’s hard to be badder than me,” he boasted, his hands on her hips as she began to gyrate on his lap. She gave him something resembling a lap dance, using her wavy hair as an erotic prop.

“Mmm…” she said and paused, deciding what to do. “Should we go upstairs…?”

“Oh, what did you want to do upstairs?” he teased, wanting to hear something dirty. 

“Well, this…” she said, grinding against his cock, “...is the extent of what I can do right now. If we go upstairs, you are honestly going to have to do most of the work. I had a LOT to drink...” 

Ayano laughed at her honest assessment. Usually, Jada would try to pretend that she could hold her liquor, but tonight she knew it’d be impossible.  

“Yeah? What do you want me to do?” he asked coyly. 

“Fuck me like it’s my birthday!” she said, kissing him hard.

“You were waiting to say something like that all night, weren’t you?” He laughed.

“It’s the whole reason I came over.” She laughed, too. “Bring me upstairs, stud.” He stood up with her still on him, so she swung her legs around him to stay up. 

“You’re a lot of fun, Jada,” he said, hoisting her up as she put her arms around his neck.

“I like being with you,” she said. “I hope I’m wearing a cute bra. I didn’t know I was coming over here when I got dressed.”

“You have cute everything,” he said, bringing her up the stairs. He set her down gently on his bed. Jada started getting undressed and rolled over to give him a view of her bare ass. She knew he liked her curves. 

Slowly, Ayano crawled up the bed and hovered over her before giving her ass a nice smack. 

"Are you already turned on, baby?" he asked in a gruff whisper. "Mmmph… did you get a wax today?"

"Yeah. My pussy feels so smooth," she said alluringly and raised her hips off the bed a little bit. Ayano's fingertips moved obsessively up and down her pussy lips.

"Let me see that pink," he growled. "Yeah. Fuck!" he said, now almost on top of her as she lay on her belly. Her pussy lips wetly clung to his fingers while he continually caressed them.

"I want to suck your cock," she moaned. She flipped over onto her back. "Come here and kneel right next to me." Ayano took off everything he was wearing and came closer to feed her his cock. His pierced nipples, sculpted pecs, and the musculature of his chest made Jada sigh and nearly swoon. She took his big, fat cock in her mouth. She needed to get it all wet and hard. She needed to see every vein in his shaft. Being so drunk, she didn't care how hard and fast he was moving. Her hands wrapped around her hips to slow him down.   

In a few minutes, they were fucking like bunnies in bed, as they always did. Jada went to sleep the moment they were done. When she awoke the next day, she remembered very little about arriving at Ayano’s house. She asked for some reminders.

“You showed me you could get out of the handcuffs without a key. It was very impressive,” was all he would tell her as he was getting dressed. 

“Was I any good in bed?” she asked.

“You were a hellcat. It was mind-blowing,” he said in an even voice.

“Really?”

“No.”

“Thanks a lot!!” she said, hiding under the sheets.

“No, it was fine!! It was just funny because you told me if we went upstairs I was going to have to do all the work. And it was true!” he said, trying to tickle her from over the sheets. She groaned. 

Ayano drove Jada home. She wanted to be unattractive and didn’t want to do it in front of him. Upon arrival, she changed into her pajamas. She recovered from her hangover eventually, after eating a lot of junk food and watching all of the Die Hard movies.    

AYANO SAYS GOODBYE

At the end of June, things were winding down for Ayano at work. He told Jada that he had almost everything set for the end of the financial year and the next projects he’d be working on would be in Romania. He and Jada had barely spent more than a few hours apart lately. It had just happened that way—every time they parted ways, they made plans to see each other soon. He told her he would have to leave the first weekend of July. She didn’t want to think about it. It seemed like he wanted to talk about this time limit, but she dodged him as much as she could.  

And then, the date had crept up on her before she knew it. 

“Your flight is tomorrow night?” Jada asked, in bed with him in her apartment. 

“Yes, it’s tomorrow already. I don’t suppose I can interest you in coming back to Romania for a while?” he added persuasively. He stroked her hair as they were lying face to face.

“What would I do in Bucharest all summer?”

“Well, there is art everywhere in the world, you know. And you could come to the beach, meet the rest of my friends, and keep fucking me, I’d hope…” he said smoothly. 

“I don’t know… I was just away from the gallery for the Răz-nevă and the fall is our busiest time of the year… I really want to. When can you come back to New York?” She smiled, trying to be sensible. 

“September at the earliest,” he told her. “I thought you liked me… and you'd like Romania.”

“I do like it, I just have a whole life here,” she said, thinking of a project she was working on as Chesha Neko. She had been planning it for months and the piece was worth $4.2 million on the current market. There were things she would bail on for a man, but this wasn’t one of them.  

“What are you going to do without me?” he pouted. 

“I don’t know. I think if it’s meant to be with us, it’ll work itself out,” she said lightly. But she was torn. Why did he have to be from somewhere so far away?

“You’re going to miss me too much,” Ayano said confidently. 

“We’ll figure out something...” she halfheartedly assured him. He kissed her as though she were his one and only devotion. He kissed her neck, lingering for a long time, and then held her closely, as if to show her the tenderness she’d be missing.    

THE AUCTION HOUSE

The day Jada said goodbye to Ayano and let him go back home to Romania was one of the most challenging ones in her recent memory. Luckily, that night, she had a Chesha Neko thing to do. It would keep her from pining away all night. 

At 2:30 AM in midtown, hardly anyone was on the streets. Almost total silence. On the roof of a large, gray stone building stood a woman wearing purple and silver body armor, a mask, and a dark purple cloak. Her long black hair was beneath the hood, trying to stay dry in the pouring rain. The building was a well-known auction house, Adnet-Cerf, a French company that had the most valuable items for bidding from all around the world. The woman in purple was watching a group of men dressed in black break into the building on the sixth floor, entering from the roof of a smaller neighboring building.

Despite her access to high society, she also made sure she had access to the secrets of the underworld of organized crime for the other part of her life. Tonight, for example, the men a few flights below worked for Mario Regetti, a New York crime boss. They were after a painting by a famous Brazilian painter that was speculated to sell for around $4.2 million tomorrow. Jada had heard about the heist through an informant of hers who worked at a day spa frequented by Regetti’s loose-lipped mistress. 

“I’m not supposed to say anything, but he’s breaking into really tough places. He's gonna steal a really expensive painting. Some artist in South America. It’s just fruit or something, for all that money!” the woman blabbed one day to her friend after a few glasses of complimentary champagne. The woman thought nothing of mentioning it, especially in front of a latina woman folding towels. Jada looked into the possible lead and it turned out Regetti was, in fact, planning to steal an abstract painting of fruit from Adnet-Cerf when it arrived in July. 

As Chesha Neko, she was going to make sure that this didn’t happen. She surely couldn’t take every Brazilian painting in the world, but sometimes she heard gossip that was too good. And it was okay to harm Regetti and his gang. He was known to have killed many business owners on the Upper West Side who didn’t pay for his “protection services.” Jada was not so innocent herself—she planned on selling the painting to a private collector in Argentina—but fuck Regetti! He had no business profiting from South American artists. 

As Chesha Neko, she worked alone and kept a low profile. She hadn’t even had to kill anyone lately. An expert in poisons, she needed only to scrape an enemy with her daggers or shuriken to debilitate them. If the occasion called for it, she would use a gun for dramatic effect but when it came down to it, they were less reliable than her blades. Poisoning followed a generally predictable set of symptoms whereas a gunshot may or may not kill somebody.

As for this evening’s criminal activity, she had discovered several details about the heist. Her plan was to let these guys do most of the work and reap the benefits herself. It certainly wasn’t “fair,” but what on earth was fair? Stealing from thieves may not be completely honorable, but neither was taking a painting that they had absolutely no respect for.

Regetti’s men had done tons of research on the auction house’s security system. She was confident they were going to handle that just fine. After the six men had collected the painting—and whatever else they might choose to grab—Chesha Neko could either knock out a few of them as they left the side door, follow them to the safehouse and try to get it there, or just play a recording of the alarm going off and let that scare them into messing up. She was going to play it by ear. 

Chesha Neko started on top of a tall office building, then used a grappling hook to scale down to the sixth floor of the building next door, Adnet-Cerf. Carefully out of sight, she watched what the men had already accomplished. It looked like it was going fairly well. They had gotten in without the alarm sounding. The rain was coming down hard, making it difficult to see anything from far away. She decided to disable the getaway SUV, debilitate the driver and lock it, and then wait above the side door. She had also ascertained that these were probably Regetti’s best men, so she applied a dangerous but easily reversible poison to her weapons in order to prevent retribution for murder. The one she had mixed today would burn like hell, very painful, but not do permanent damage if the antidote was administered within four hours. 

When the men hurried outside to the loading dock, she hit one of them with the poison-tipped shuriken. One of the remaining four had a hard plastic case strapped to his back. All of them attacked Chesha Neko. She had trained in capoeira for years and considered herself an expert. Although these guys were unexpectedly fast and sturdy, Jada's martial arts expertise had prepared her. Then, without warning, the worst person she could have run into in New York City was there. Black Talon appeared from above, his black cloak rippling in the wind dramatically. His hawk-like helmet concealed all of his features besides his square jaw. Jada couldn't see his eyes. Just his imposing physique.

Black Talon had been the unofficial guardian of New York City for over a decade now. He was inadvertently doing her a favor by attacking these guys. She had never met Black Talon and wasn’t sure if he knew she wasn’t there in any kind of heroic capacity. She scraped one of Regetti’s men across the chest with a dagger, but he must’ve been wearing a bulletproof vest. She landed a hard kick to the guy’s head while Black Talon tangled with the other two. 

A car full of more of Regetti’s men came screeching down the street to the loading dock in order to retrieve the painting. The auction house’s alarm started to sound loudly. Regetti’s men seemed to view Black Talon as a higher priority. Seeing the opportunity, Jada cut the case off one of the fallen men’s back and shot another grappling hook up the Adnet-Cerf building. She needed to get back to the roof. 

Black Talon was still fighting the other guys but she had seen that he noticed her take the case with the painting. She got to the roof to access her escape route. As she ran towards the office building, Black Talon threw something at her ankles. It flew around them, tying her up and tripping her. She fell hard to the ground. She frantically started to cut the rope with her dagger, but it was very tough. He was gaining on her. 

Chesha Neko freed herself and ran only a few feet when Black Talon tackled her. 

“Shit!!” she yelled, possibly breaking a rib or two. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met. Who are you?” Black Talon asked, turning her around and pinning her arms above her head on the roof to get a look at her. She groaned in pain. Thunder sounded. The bad weather was just adding insult to injury. 

“Would you believe I’m a museum worker?” she grunted. 

“Not in the slightest,” he said. “What’s your name?” he asked more insistently.

“Chesha Neko.” 

“I’ve never heard of you. Brand new and heading to prison already. It’s a shame,” he said, holding her with one hand while he got the cuffs off his utility belt. She decided not to be insulted that he hadn't heard of her. It probably meant she was a good thief. 

“Well, at least I got pinned by a hot guy first. Doesn’t this kind of thing turn you on?” she asked coyly, trying to distract him. 

“Not in the slightest,” he continued, unperturbed. Chesha Neko wasn't too worried. Her mask had technology that could read her eye movements, so, with a specialized sequence, she activated a spray from an insignia on her chest. A permeating poison sprayed on Black Talon’s face. She used a well-placed knee to get him off of her while he was disarmed.

“So sorry! You should really get to a hospital. I recommend CroFab and fast!” she said, telling him the proper antidote and hastily heading to her escape route. The only problem was that the painting was back at ground level, on the other side of Black Talon. She had to leave it. Her injuries meant it would be harder to scale buildings. And she couldn’t risk getting caught and sent to some institution. Black Talon was a serious problem. 

AFTER THE HEIST

When she got back home safely as Jada Versailles, she was pissed about losing the painting. Her next score would have to be big. She was eager to start researching a few ideas, but coming home to her empty apartment was heartbreaking. Ayano. For the last three months or so, she could get a fix of him very easily. When did she get hooked? He was usually available for her to see within a few hours, ready to make every mundane or unpleasant part of her day disappear. 

At work, she found herself daydreaming about him and then came crashing down when she realized she didn’t know the next time she’d see him. When they had said goodbye, they both promised they would figure something out. She hadn’t predicted how urgent this would become.

She liked living alone and being self-employed: independent. After her first serious boyfriend turned out to be married, she ended it and he spitefully told her she had “daddy issues”, an over-reliance on men. She made a conscious effort to appear aloof. Other relationships came and went with nothing to write home about, on her part, anyway. She wanted it to seem like she was an actress who signed on to guest star in a series but never became part of the cast. She was exciting and beloved, but too cool to stick around for the slow episodes. But really, she couldn’t handle the slow episodes, the deep intimacy part of a relationship. And the behind the scenes stuff? Could she share about herself like that? Guest starring was the way to go.

But Ayano. He was a fascinating prospect. Was it possible that he wanted to know everything about her and could do all the fun stuff? The thought haunted her mercilessly. He could be everything she wanted, if she played her cards right. 

Jada’s day-to-day life was unbearable. She was constantly in a terrible mood. One of her employees at the gallery told her, “I’ve seen heroin addicts that were more cheerful than you.” It was like withdrawal, she thought. 

Grace and another friend, Natalie, were happy to have her around again, having hardly seen her for weeks. They gave her shit about neglecting them for her man, but it was her older friend, Raquel, who verbalized an Ayano-specific problem. She brought it up unexpectedly. The two of them were having coffee and talking about how it was easier to learn languages when you were younger.

“When you’re young, your mind is like loose, fertile soil. Seeds can get in very easily. As we age, our minds become like clay,” Raquel had said. She was a very close friend but she did say serious stuff like this all the time. “This is why when an older man dates a young woman, it can be a problem. His mind is already clay. He knows what he wants, who he is. The young woman may not know herself as well and find one day that most of the seeds in her head are his.”

Jada had heard Raquel, of course. They were sitting only a few feet apart. Yet, she wasn’t ready to believe that Ayano would be an impediment to her in any way. He loved her, and yes, he guided and taught her stuff, but he happened to be a teacher! Besides, what did Raquel know? She was one to talk. Her husband, Tavi, was five years older than her! The conversation with Raquel was quickly buried in her mind.

I MISS YOU CALL

Since Ayano left, Jada had been able to put on appearances that she wasn’t struggling as much as she actually was. She had spoken with him twice so far, trying to keep the topics light and sex-oriented. Yet, on the fifth day apart, she couldn’t keep it together anymore. She missed so much about him: his companionship, his touch, his devotion to her. Jada had never had a man who wanted to unwrap her like Ayano did. He was spontaneous and fun and liked to spoil her. Not to mention one of the most physically attractive human beings she had ever encountered. 

At work, the new exhibit they were showing soon was a disaster. Delivery times, catering, invitations—everything had a significant problem. The straw that broke the camel’s back was around 7:00 one night. Jada tried to set up the sound system and the whole thing didn’t work. She had just bought it a few weeks ago and she couldn’t get it working for the life in her. The stupid speakers didn’t work, she hadn’t had dinner yet, and she really liked this guy that lived too far away! Afraid she would lose it and cry in front of her employees, she stormed off into her office and slammed the door. 

When she would tell this part of their story to her friends, she would say that she debated calling Ayano for a long time, but this wasn’t the case. The moment she set eyes on her desk’s phone, she found his number and dialed it. It was about 2:00 in the morning in Romania, but she didn’t care.

“Alo?” he answered, not sounding especially sleep-ridden. 

“Ayano…” she sobbed into the phone the moment she heard his voice.

“Baby, baby, what is it?” he asked in a worried voice. She sniffled, trying to pull herself together. “What happened?!”

“Ayano, I’m having a really bad day,” she croaked, the crying making it difficult to speak. She hated her crying voice.

“Jada, tell me what happened,” he insisted. 

“The sound system at the gallery doesn’t work, I’m really hungry, and you live halfway around the world! I miss you so much,” she choked, going into her private bathroom to grab some toilet paper in lieu of the Kleenex she never remembered to buy.

“Oh, dragostea mea... “ he chuckled a little. “Jada, it’s okay. You had me worried.”

“You should be worried! I feel like shit!” she complained.

“I know, I know. I do, too. No one wants to be around me here, I just keep snapping at everyone,” he sympathized.

“It feels like I’m about to puke up my heart,” she said sorrowfully. He laughed for a moment and made a compassionate ‘aww’ sound like he thought she was being adorable. “Stop!”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”

“This is serious!!” she scolded him.

“Yes, we have to figure out something,” he said in that sexy accent of his.

“I’m never like this,” she said defensively, still sniffling.

“I’m a wreck, too,” he reassured her.

“No, you’re not. You’re not crying like a twelve-year-old schoolgirl.”

“Hey, I’m… brooding. I was driving 160 kilometers an hour today,” he explained. She wasn’t quite sure why heartache would make him drive fast, but that is what he offered, so she assumed it was how men handle this sort of thing. Ayano sighed. “Please Jada, I’m begging you, you have to get on a plane tomorrow.”

“I could come for a little while, but what are we going to do after that?” she asked, curling up on her couch. She wanted to know if she should try to get over him now, before it was even harder.

“Who cares? It’ll work itself out later. We are both falling apart like this. And I can’t leave here now. There are so many Romanian families counting on my company to put food on their tables. I have to get so many things set up before I can possibly leave again. Worry about later later,” he reasoned.

“Okay, I’ll come. Tomorrow,” she agreed. 

“Let's see… there are a few flights landing in Bucharest tomorrow. Can you get on a 8:40 pm flight to Frankfurt?” he asked.

“Is there anything earlier?” she said, not bothering to hide her impatience.

“Just a 6:10 pm through Charles DeGaulle.”

“That’s fine,” she said, feeling immensely relieved.

“I’ll send you a car to get you to the airport. It will arrive around 3 pm. The driver’s a friend of mine, Carlo. He’ll get you anything you need,” he said, planning for her in case she ran late, which she would.

“What’s your place like in Bucharest?” she asked.

“Oh, it’s just hideous.”

“I’m sure.”

“Do you want to shop for some new art while you’re here? I would love your help acquiring some new pieces,” he proposed.

“Maybe…”

“It will be fun for you while I’m at work. I’ll have one of the office girls take you around some museums and galleries.”

“I can’t wait to see you,” she said, feeling the tight cords unwind from around her heart. 

“You get in at 3:20 over here. I’ll come get you. I can’t wait.”

“I always used to hate people who make out at the airport…” she said.

“There’s a first time for everything, my dear,” he told her.

“See you soon,” she said, feeling so excited she was lightheaded.

“See you soon. You are all I think about,” he confessed.

“I’ll be thinking about you tonight,” she was in danger of gushing. It was too soon, she thought.

“Bye, iubi,” he said. 

The next day, Jada walked by a Barnes & Noble on the way to work. Curiosity made her look up “yoo-bee” in a Romanian/English dictionary. Once she got the spelling right, a smile spread across her face when she found out it meant “love” or “beloved.” It was cute and it didn’t gross her out. She bought the dictionary, feeling like she had the best man on earth.

ARRIVAL IN BUCHAREST

Jada got off the plane in Bucharest wearing her favorite blue tie-dye minidress with beaded embroidery, accompanied by butterflies in her stomach. This was crazy. She was neglecting her whole life to frolic around Europe with a boy. Well, a man. A man almost old enough to be her father. But, she wasn’t being totally irresponsible. She would be back in time for Fashion Week in New York, she told herself. Although, she had conveniently forgotten to run this decision by any of her friends and told everyone at work there was a family emergency. 

Ayano was waiting for her among the crowd, trying to hide his very pleased expression. This was the game they played sometimes; who was cooler, who was more aloof, casual, not feeling as deeply as the other. For once, he wasn’t wearing anything dark or black. He had on an aqua linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and lightweight gray pants. Even his shoes were casual—some woven slip-ons. 

As Jada got closer to him, she saw that he had a long stem rose in his hand. It was hard to say who lost this round of Who’s Cooler. She ran to him, held him, and kissed him far more passionately than she would have liked to in public. People were watching, but she couldn’t help it. He reciprocated just as enthusiastically. When they took a step back, he looked the happiest she had ever seen him. He handed her the rose.

“The rest are in our bedroom,” he said in a low voice.

“I like the summer look,” she commented, her face glowing from being smitten and embarrassed at the same time.

“You’re here at the best time of the year. We’ll go to the Black Sea this weekend. C’mon, let’s go get your bags.” He held her other hand as they walked to the baggage claim and then out to a waiting Daimler limousine. He signaled for whoever was driving to stay up front, held the door for Jada himself, and took care of her bags.

He got in and sat beside her. Now that they were in a slightly more private setting, pulling away from the airport, they could make out and grope to their hearts’ content. He stopped himself as he caught himself caressing further along her thigh.

“Didn’t you have a limousine with tinted windows?” she asked breathlessly.

“That would be an invitation to get pulled over,” he grinned. “And no, I don’t. We will just have to restrain ourselves for the next twenty minutes.” 

She pushed him back against the window and kissed his neck while her fingers zealously gripped and climbed his thigh, barely able to stop herself.

“La naiba…” he said, exhaling tensely. “I’m going to fuck you for a week when we get home,” his words eeking out between his clenched teeth.

“I won’t stop you,” she said, relenting and resting her head on his chest. “I missed you so much, Ayano,” she admitted, her hug absorbing the relief from her heartache.

“Me, too,” he told her, playing with her hair affectionately. “How long do I have you for?” he asked.

“The only thing I really can’t miss is Fashion Week, the second week of September. All of the beautiful people in the world come to New York and I have to make sure they buy art and tell everyone how avant-garde my gallery is.”

“Operations here will be able to manage without me by then, certainly. Which reminds me, do you want to come to Monaco with me next weekend?”

“Monaco? Like, Princess Grace? Yes, of course! What for?”

“A group of Swiss bankers is hosting a special weekend event at some casino there. They pay for everything all weekend in the hopes that we will invest our money with them. I prefer to invest my money in Romania but the Swiss are very good with money... Anyway, it’s a good chance to catch up with old friends and gamble. Stay at a fancy hotel for free.”

“That sounds fabulous.”

"It is. I'm so lucky to have a date that will make everybody so envious…" he said smoothly.

“Everybody? I don't think so…" she said modestly. "How are you going to introduce me?"

"As Jada Versailles," he said. He tried to look innocent, like he wasn't avoiding the task of naming their relationship.  

"You don’t want to tell everyone I’m your… paramour? That we’re having a liaison?” she teased, kissing his chin through his prickly facial hair.

“No… But I can call you whatever you like in the bedroom,” he said slyly, kissing her back on the lips. Jada decided to drop the subject, although she did not usually go out of her way for men that hadn't explicitly professed their intentions in the relationship. He was a rare exception to most of her rules and she couldn't wait to spend the next few weeks attached at the loins.