|I Love A Rainy Night
Author: knifethrower PM
A little story about being young and in love...Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance - Sesshomaru & Kagome H. - Chapters: 4 - Words: 5,060 - Reviews: 9 - Favs: 13 - Follows: 12 - Updated: 05-04-10 - Published: 11-17-09 - id: 5516814
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
This is just going to be a little, two-chapter story…
The sun was down, and the day was over. The only light in the lonely house came from the television. Kagome curled up in the corner of the leather couch, stroking the tight skin of her belly. Pretending it was her husband's hand soothing the baby inside, and not her own. Pup, she reminded herself. Every time she referred to the bump as her baby, she was firmly corrected. The local news, and then the national news, a few hours of inane sitcoms. A documentary about Jack the Ripper. Her eyes bleared as she stared at the television screen. Even with the three-hour time difference between Connecticut and California, Sesshomaru should have called her hours ago. She tried not to be bitter. For her pup's sake.
Her father-in-law, Inu Taisho, called the shots. Pack hierarchy. Sesshomaru explained it to her when Inu Taisho ordered him to fly to Los Angeles. InuYasha, who had been named head of Taisho Corporation's west coast operations, had allowed his division to flounder. As eldest son, it was Sesshomaru's job to straighten things out. Pup or no pup.
Relations were strained enough between Inu Taisho and his heir. Sesshomaru had married Kagome in front of a magistrate as soon as she graduated from high school, and he was only five hundred years old, himself. The old inu had been enraged when he found out they had gotten married. He only allowed them to stay together because of the baby. Pup, she reminded herself yet again, tears prickling her eyelids. Now the eleven o'clock news was on, and she could not bring herself to eat. Her stomach churned with nausea from the tears she held back. Finally, exhausted, she fell asleep. In her sleep, she finally cried, her damp cheek plastered to the leather upholstery of the arm of the couch.
She dreamed she was walking home from school. InuYasha was supposed to meet her in the student parking lot, but his red Ford-F150 was nowhere to be seen. It wasn't the first time he had left her high and dry, so she shouldered her backpack and set out on the three-mile hike to the farmhouse where she lived with her mother.
The first part of her walk was on smooth concrete sidewalks. It was late September, and the maple trees had dumped their colorful leaves on the ground in drifts of pink and yellow and orange. Their scent was pungent and intoxicating. She scuffed her loafers, kicking up leaves, not at all unhappy to be abandoned by her long-time boyfriend. His father had sent him hostelling in Europe over the summer, and the time apart had given Kagome a chance to do some much-needed thinking.
The wind kicked up, raising goosebumps on Kagome's arms and bare legs. The pleated skirt of her school uniform was dangerously short, so she held it down with one hand as she walked. A long black sedan from the 1970s drove past, shiny as a hearse.
Now the wind carried tiny specks of rain, and she was still in town, where the streets were paved in bricks and bordered by large, brightly painted wooden houses. At least two miles left to go. She heard him coming from behind, speakers blaring out the thrash rock he loved so much. InuYasha. She came to a halt on the sidewalk, hands on her hips and legs apart. The window of the truck rolled down.
"Hurry up and get in, wench."
"I don't think so, InuYasha."
"Get in, you stupid bitch, it's starting to rain!"
She walked through a drift of leaves to get to the side of his truck. The inside reeked of pot and the distinctive smell of Kikyo's drugstore perfume.
"InuYasha. We need to talk."
Three minutes later, it was over. He laid rubber as he drove away. The rain fell harder, washing away years of InuYasha's bullshit.
She was soaked through, and having trouble seeing through her sodden eyelashes, when the long black car pulled up along side her.
The tinted window on the passenger side rolled down. "Kagome. Get in the car." Sesshomaru, InuYasha's older half-brother.
She waded through a sodden pile of leaves to get to the car, and climbed in, slamming the door behind her. The car was warm and dry. The huge bench seat of Sesshomaru's car smelled richly of leather cleaner.
Sesshomaru looked over at the girl. She was drenched and shivering. Even soaked to the skin, she looked good on the seat of his car, like she belonged there. He shrugged his way out of the gray sweatshirt he was wearing, and handed it to her. She took it, not saying a word, just looking at him out of those big, pansy eyes of hers.
"Dry your hair with it, then put it on." He turned pointedly away, looking out the driver's side window to give her privacy.
Sighing, and feeling guilty at taking the shirt from his back, she dried her hair as best she could, then struggled out of her wet blouse. She pulled the sweatshirt over her head. It was warm from his body heat and smelled like him. Nice. She looked up, and found him staring at her.
"Take your bra off." Looking away from his eyes, she reached behind her, fumbling with the hooks and eyes that held the bra together. She blushed harder, and stuffed the wet undergarment into her backpack.
When she arched her back, he felt himself go from partially aroused to rock hard. Covering for his discomfiture, he made a point of adjusting the heater, and turning on the radio. The girl had always held a fascination for him. She was so pure, and clean. With her long, slender limbs and delicate wrists and ankles, she reminded him of a young doe, poised on the brink of maturity. Everything about her made him clench tight inside. Her little heart-shaped face, her tousled mane of inky black hair, tiny waist, and ripe, round breasts all beckoned to the predator in him. 'Down, boy,' he told himself mentally.
"Why are you not with my half-brother?" He asked, in a dry tone of voice.
Sesshomaru had always had some strange sort of power over her. It might have been his eyes, or his deep, reassuring voice, or the fact that, as long as she could remember, he was the only one who always told her the truth. Whatever the reason, she found herself answering, telling him the whole tiresome story of her, and InuYasha, and Kikyo.
Sesshomaru drove slowly and carefully. The houses got further apart, and when they reached the first stoplight, he pulled onto the asphalt pavement of the main road out of town. Kagome's mother, who was a very pretty woman in her own right, worked as a receptionist in his division, and he knew she spent most of her nights at the bars. There was no reason to hurry, only to leave Kagome alone in an empty house.
The heater was on full-blast. Kagome wiggled out of her shoes and socks, sighing as the hot air toasted her damp, chilly toes. She snuggled into the fluffy warmth of the borrowed sweatshirt. The radio played softly, some easy listening music that seemed right for Sesshomaru's vintage car. She watched the rain pound the windshield, the wipers slapping back and forth with authority. She felt safe, and warm, and more content than she could remember being in the longest time.
She glanced over at Sesshomaru. He was pale as an angel in his white tee-shirt. She could see his tight male nipples through the thin fabric.
Sesshomaru drove carefully, enjoying the presence of the girl beside him. A half-hour out of town, he spotted the neon lights of the diner shining through the rain. Neither one said a word as he pulled into a parking space. He got out, ignoring the rain, and walked around the long front end of the car to open her door for her. Deciding to abandon her wet socks, she shoved her bare feet into her still damp loafers.
He pulled her to his side and guided her up the steps, and pulled the glass door open. The diner was brightly lit and smelled richly of fried food and chicken gravy. He only let go of her hand after she slid into the burgundy vinyl bench of their booth. He took his seat across from her. His eyes never left her face, making her blush again. She broke eye contact, and stared at the chipped formica tabletop.
The rosy-cheeked waitress who bustled over was a good advertisement for the establishment. She took their orders amiably, not flinching when Sesshomaru asked for a big Delmonico steak, barely warmed on the grill. The diner was known for its chicken and dumplings, which Sesshomaru ordered for Kagome, wanting her to have a hot, solid meal.
The diner was not busy. There were only a few customers, seated at the counter, so their booth felt quiet and private. They took their time eating, neither feeling the need to talk. It felt good. It felt comfortable.
It was pitch dark when they finally left the diner. Sesshomaru tucked her back into his car, running to the driver's side through the pouring rain. The engine turned over willingly, the dash lit up, and the heater and the radio came alive. After he pulled out onto the road, Sesshomaru looked over at Kagome, and opened his right arm to her. Not needing to consider at all, she scooted across the wide leather seat, and cuddled into his side. The radio played, some song about a rainy night, and the big boat of a car made its way through the dark of the night to a little, unfrequented two-track road.
Sesshomaru put the car in park, and ran his knuckles under Kagome's chin, tilting her face up so he could reach her lips. His long, moonlight hair came down around them as he rubbed his lips against hers, then parted her lips with his tongue. He could feel her heart beating like a drum as he explored her mouth, her little body trembling against him. He began to stroke his hands down her sides, petting her for a while before he reached under the sweatshirt, touching her bare skin. He stroked her ribs, and her back, and finally, the side of her breast, causing her to gasp. He felt her puckered nipple, and decided to take it up a notch, lowering his face to her breast, and taking it into his mouth. He continued to caress her side with his other hand, breathing in the warm, sweet scent of her growing arousal.