InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 5: Phantasm ❯ Implicit Trust ( Chapter 30 )

~*~*~*~*~*~Lime warning~*~*~*~*~*~

 

There is no clean version of this chapter. You've been warned.

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

~~Chapter 30~~

~Implicit Trust~

 

Sydnie paced the floor, casting Sebastian occasional glances as she pondered his offer. “Anything I want to do?” she finally asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Anything?”

 

Lounging on the bed, propped on one elbow with his hand supporting his cheek, he nodded slowly. “That's right, cat,” he reiterated with a grimace. “Whatever you want.”

 

Sydnie hid a smile. Two things were very apparent: firstly, Bas the Hunter felt completely horrible about his inattention during the game, and secondly, he was more than a little wary of the `anything' that Sydnie might come up with. “That's interesting,” she allowed, not quite ready to let the dog off the hook just yet. “Anything, huh?”

 

He shifted, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Take it easy on me, kitty,” he grumbled, only half-joking.

 

“You don't like the terms you set?” she purred, slipping onto the end of the bed and slowly crawling toward Bas. He swallowed hard, tearing his gaze away from the deep `v' of her thigh-length robe. “Fine, fine . . . I suppose we could play a game of our own—your game.”

 

“My game?” he repeated, a wry grin surfacing on his face. “You want to play football?”

 

“Football? No . . . that other game. What did you call it?” She sat up, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Ah, yes . . . Truth or Dare.”

 

He blinked and slowly shook his head. “You want to play Truth or Dare.”

 

She nodded. “It'll do for starters.”

 

“Okay,” he said, rolling onto his back and propping himself up on his elbows. “Ladies first.”

 

She grinned. “Truth or dare, puppy?”

 

Scrunching his face up into a thoughtful little scowl, Bas finally heaved a sigh and grinned. “Dare, kitty. Do your worst.”

 

Sydnie laughed. “I dare you to order milk for me.”

 

Bas snorted. “That was your dare? You know I'd do that, anyway,” he pointed out.

 

“Put up or shut up, puppy.”

 

Bas chuckled as he rolled over and grabbed the phone, dialing the number for room service and making quick work of ordering a gallon of whole milk for her. Dropping the receiver back into the cradle, he dusted his hands together and stretched out again, tucking his hands together behind his neck and shooting Sydnie and entirely smug grin. “Truth or dare, kitty.”

 

“Truth.”

 

“Tell me, Sydnie . . . Would you really have wanted Gunnar to come get you?”

 

Trying to ignore the hint of trepidation in Bas' gaze, Sydnie stared at the coverlet and shrugged. “Do you really think I would?” she demanded softly.

 

Bas winced. “I'd like to think you wouldn't.”

 

She shrugged, crawling toward him close enough to trace little circles on his chest. “I wouldn't have.”

 

For some reason, her answer didn't seem to make him feel any better. “I'm sorry, kitty.”

 

She smiled. “Truth or dare, Sebastian.”

 

“Truth.”

 

“Are you sure you're not just playing with me?”

 

He blinked. “Playing with you?”

 

She nodded. “You said that the reason you always stopped me before was because Gunnar was here,” she pointed out. “He's gone now, you know. He's been gone awhile.”

 

“I'm not playing with you, Sydnie,” he assured her, his cheeks pinking though his gaze remained steady. “I swear I'm not.

“Good.”

 

He tried to smile but failed. “Truth or dare, kitty.”

 

“Truth.”

 

“Are you sure you're not just playing with me to drive me insane?”

 

She giggled. “Would I do such a thing, puppy?”

 

He narrowed his gaze on her. “Yes, Sydnie, I believe you would.”

 

She rolled her eyes but giggled louder. “You're so self-conscious, Sebastian.”

 

“Yeah, whatever. Your turn, cat.”

 

“Truth or dare?”

 

“Truth.”

 

Her smile widened. “Do you really believe that the tiny men on the television can hear you when you yell at them?”

 

He snorted but his coloring darkened as he broke into a sheepish little grin. “Of course I do. Sometimes they even reverse their bad calls.” A knock on the door interrupted the game, and Bas scooted off the bed to answer. Making quick work of taking the milk from the bellhop, Bas gave the boy a tip and poured Sydnie a big glass before returning to the bed once more.

 

She accepted the glass and drained it in one long gulp before crawling over Bas' prone body to set the empty glass on the nightstand. Hiding her smile when he uttered a low groan, she sat back and smiled sweetly. “Your turn, Bas the Hunter,” she reminded him.

 

He blinked a few times, the dazed sort of expression on his face slowly dissipating. He had to clear his throat before he could speak again, and Sydnie laughed softly, unaccountably pleased with her ability to completely fluster the youkai hunter. “T-t-truth or dare?”

 

She thought it over. “Dare.”

 

He chuckled, gaze lighting with sudden inspiration. Before he told her the terms of the dare, he sat up again and ambled over to the bureau where a small microwave stood. She watched as he dug a packet of popcorn out of the box they'd picked up earlier. He tore the plastic wrapper off and stuck the packet into the microwave, starting it up before returning to the bed once more. “I dare you,” he began, a slow smile spreading over his face as a triumphant sort of light filtered into his gaze, “to share a bag of popcorn with me.”

 

Sydnie sat up. “What? That's silly! I can do that . . .”

 

“That means,” he went on, “no growling, no scratching, no claiming the bag . . . it sits on the bed between us, and you can't even lift an eyebrow at me when I take some because we're sharing it.”

 

Snapping her mouth closed and trying to resist the blush that rose in her own cheeks, Sydnie's face shifted into a chagrined little scowl, and she snorted. “That's easy enough,” she assured him. “Simple, puppy! A complete waste of a dare!”

 

“And if you so much as give me a look, cat . . . well, you'll have to abide by the consequences.”

 

“Consequences?”

 

“Of course. That's the whole point of the game, isn't it? If you can't complete your dare, there has to be consequences, don't you think?”

 

“I can share, puppy,” she bit out.

 

“I know you can, baby. I'm just encouraging you.”

 

Wrinkling her nose as he wandered over to retrieve the popcorn, Sydnie snorted, sitting up a little straighter as he shook the bag and carefully pulled the top seams apart. Dropping the bag onto the bed, he reached in and grabbed a huge handful of the snack. Sydnie remembered just in time that she really didn't dare say a thing, even if she did think that Bas was being a pig. “Mmm,” he moaned in an exaggerated show of happiness as he made a point of stuffing the entire handful into his mouth. “Wan' `ome, `itty?”

 

Sydnie didn't answer, leaning forward and snatching a couple kernels. “Truth or dare, puppy.”

 

He flopped onto his back and swallowed. “Truth.”

 

She shot him a rather nasty grin. Bas paused with his hand in the popcorn bag. She had the feeling that he was dreading her question, and well he should. She let her gaze travel over him as his skin pinked a little more. “Tell me, Sebastian,” she began quietly, “what color are your crests?”

 

“My . . .?” His face shifted from a light blush to a painful crimson stain, and he coughed. “My . . . crests.”

 

She nodded, feeling much better as she popped a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth. “Yes, your crests.”

 

“Ah . . . well . . . I, uh, they . . . I mean, it—them—they . . .” He drew a deep breath, scowling as he shot to his feet and snatched the glass off the nightstand before stomping over, his back to her, and poured her another drink. “Green,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

“Green?” she echoed, suppressing the exultant laugh that welled up inside her; the pleasure that she'd finally gotten some sort of answer out of him about the elusive crests. “I like green.”

 

“Truth or dare, cat?” he growled, stomping over and shoving the glass under her nose.

 

“Truth, puppy.”

 

He snorted, sinking down on the bed but careful to avoid her gaze. “What's your favorite color?”

 

She giggled. “Green,” she insisted, blinking innocently. “Definitely green, puppy . . .”

 

He blushed even darker, and Sydnie laughed out loud. “I walked right into that,” he grumbled.

 

“Yes, you did,” she agreed with a shrug, forcing her eyes away as he reached for the bag of popcorn. “Don't blush, Sebastian. Red clashes with green . . .”

 

His answer was a loud `pfft!' as he jammed more popcorn into his mouth.

 

“Truth or dare?” she demanded.

 

“Oof,” he mumbled.

 

“Do I scare you, Sebastian?”

 

He gulped and quickly shook his head. “N-n-no.”

 

She rose on her hands and knees and leaned toward him. “Are you sure?”

 

He nodded. “Y-yes . . .”

 

“That's a shame,” she relented, sitting back on her heels with a melodramatic sigh.

 

Bas snorted. “You smashed the popcorn, Sydnie.”

 

“Did I? I'm so sorry . . .”

 

“I doubt that,” he retorted mildly. “Truth or dare, cat.”

 

“Truth.”

 

He snorted. “Do you want some more milk?”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Not at the moment, puppy, but I'll keep it in mind. What a waste of a question.”

 

He chuckled, grabbing another handful of popcorn. Sydnie couldn't help the little half-growl that slipped from her as she reached out to snatch the bag from him. Jerking her hand away at the last second, she bit her lip and bit off the growl, hoping against hope that he hadn't noticed the mistake. No such luck.

 

His eyebrows shot up as he slowly rolled over, pushing himself into a sitting position, an entirely triumphant grin surfacing on his face. “I knew you couldn't do it,” he remarked without even trying to keep the hint of gloating out of his tone.

 

“I didn't!” she argued. “I stopped myself!”

 

“Ah, but you did it,” he insisted. “Now you have to live with the consequences.”

 

She glared at him. “That's rather mean, don't you think?”

 

“Nope,” he told her. “You were warned.”

 

Plastering on an exaggeratedly innocent expression, Sydnie batted her eyes and tilted her head. “Please, Sebastian? I won't do it again; I promise.”

 

He snorted. “Nope . . . now you get to feed me the rest of the popcorn—without complaint.”

 

Her mouth dropped open, and she scowled at him. He chuckled, obviously thinking he'd won. Sydnie started to say something then snapped her mouth closed, the thread of an idea blossoming in her mind. “Okay,” she agreed, her voice dropping to a husky purr. “Your wish is my command, my puppy.”

 

Gaze narrowing as he tried to figure out just what was going through her mind, Bas slowly shook his head as Sydnie picked up the bag of popcorn and scooted toward him. “Sydnie? What . . .?”

 

Straddling him, she took her time squirming around for a moment as she adjusted her position on his lap. He grimaced and opened his mouth to protest. Sydnie dug a few kernels of popcorn out of the bag and set it aside before leaning forward, slowly running it along the outline of his lips. “All of it, huh?”

 

“Damn it,” he grumbled, turning his face away as his cheeks shot straight to scarlet, bypassing pink completely. “Get . . . off . . . cat.”

 

“Oh, no,” she insisted, patiently following his face with the food. “Consequences, you said, right? Far be it for me not to abide by the set rules of the game.”

 

“You're bad,” he rasped out, finally meeting her stare. His eyes were dark, veiled in a more turbulent emotion, and Sydnie caught her breath, forgetting for the moment, that she was supposed to be feeding him.

 

“Bad is a relative term, Sebastian. I prefer `playful'.”

 

He stifled a groan, closing his eyes for a moment as a violent shiver ran down his spine. “And I prefer `trouble'.”

 

“I like trouble,” she assured him, slipping the popcorn into his mouth. “Oh, look . . . you're a mess . . . let me help you, shall I?”

 

He chewed almost absently, staring at her in a bemused sort of way. Leaning toward him, her tongue darted out, carefully licking away the sheen of buttery oil that glossed his lips. “God,” he moaned quietly, his arms locking around her. “Sydnie . . . I . . .”

 

“Me, too,” she whispered, slowly licking his upper lip. She could feel the trembling erupting in his body, and the curious sensation of light-headedness that swept through her in a brutal rush. Pulling another piece of popcorn from the bag, she repeated the process. He gripped her shoulders, pulling and pushing at her at the same time, unable to decide what he wanted to do. The struggle between heart and mind was a palpable thing. Sydnie leaned down, brushing her lips over his, returning once, twice only to draw his bottom lip into her mouth, bathing away the salty remnants of the popcorn with the stroke of her tongue.

 

“That's . . . enough,” he murmured, eyes half-closed as his harsh breath ruffled over her cheek. “I . . . you . . . sharing lesson over.”

 

“But I don't want it to be over,” she argued, slipping her hand around his neck and burying her fingers in the silky strands of his hair. “You said the rest of the popcorn.”

 

“The rest of the popcorn might kill me.”

 

“You're stronger than that, Bas the Hunter,” she murmured, leaning in, nipping at his earlobe. “Truth or dare, puppy?”

 

“D-dare . . .?”

 

She giggled, pressing her body against his, reveling in the sheer strength that exuded from him. “I dare you to show me your crests,” she whispered.

 

Bas gasped, her words shocking him as his body stiffened. “I . . . no!” he choked, shoving her off his lap and shooting to his feet to stalk across the room.

 

Sydnie sighed. “Why not?”

 

“Game over, cat,” he growled. “Forget it, damn it.”

 

She shook her head and adjusted the hem of her robe, scrunching up her shoulders as she tried to brush aside the hurt that surged through her. “You're a jerk, Bas the Hunter—a huge jerk!”

 

“Sydnie—”

 

Untangling her legs and slipping off the bed, she strode over to him, planting her hands on her hips and glaring up at him. “You're a jerk and a hypocrite, and—”

 

“Hypocrite? How?”

 

She snorted, poking him hard in the center of his chest to emphasize her words. “You're the one who is always telling me that I should trust you, aren't you? `Trust me, Sydnie' . . . `I promise, Sydnie' . . . All your big talk, and the one thing that you don't even comprehend is that you don't trust me, do you? And that makes you a hypocrite!”

 

Bas stopped short, slowly reaching out to grasp Sydnie's shoulder as he bent down to look her in the eye. “That's not true,” he told her. “I—”

 

“You can tell me, you know,” she mumbled, glowering at the floor and blinking furiously.

 

“Tell you what?”

 

She shook her head, wrenched herself away from him with a vicious jerk. “You don't want me. I got it now. It's crystal-clear.”

 

“That's not it!” he bellowed, catching her hand and pulling her back before she had a chance to get away. “Don't be stupid, Sydnie! It's not that I don't want you! I just . . . I . . .” he winced and squeezed his eyes closed then heaved a sigh. “O-o-okay.”

 

She blinked and stole a glance at him. “Okay?”

 

He jerked his head in a curt nod, face flaming, a miserable expression on his face. “Okay,” he said again. “Just . . . don't laugh. Please don't laugh . . .”

“Why would I laugh?”

 

He snorted, already acute embarrassment rapidly escalating into the desire to have the floor open up and swallow him, at least judging from the misery in his expression. “Because,” he grumbled, cheeks darkening in color, “I look like a damn . . . barber pole.”

 

Sydnie coughed but didn't laugh. “A . . . barber pole?”

 

He shot her a mutinous glare. “Yes,” he gritted out. “Forget it . . .”

 

Sydnie caught his hand before he could stomp away. “I'm sorry,” she told him, pulling him back. “That was just an amusing visual, but I won't laugh . . . I swear I won't . . .”

 

Bas stared at her for a long moment then finally nodded, backing up until his legs hit the bed and lowering himself down on it slowly. Stretching out without taking his eyes off her, he drew a deep breath and tried to smile. He gave up on the attempt and dragged a pillow over his head, instead. “Make it quick,” he mumbled, voice muffled.

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

It seemed to Bas that Sydnie was taking her sweet time in doing whatever looking she wanted to do. Stifling a frustrated growl, he held the pillow over his head so tightly that he could feel the muscles in his arms straining. He felt the bed sag by his knees. He could tell that Sydnie was doing something, but he just couldn't make himself look, either.

 

After so many years of dreading this moment, he found that he wasn't nearly as prepared as he should have been. He'd come to terms with the idea that he would eventually have to find a mate, and that she would very likely end up seeing the crests that he took great pains to hide. Maybe he'd been teased one too many times. Try as he might, he couldn't really remember a time when he wasn't self-conscious about that particular facet of his anatomy. As much as he hated it, he also couldn't quite shake it off, either.

 

A gentle yet insistent tug pulled the pillow off his face, and Bas blinked as his eyes readjusted to the dim light in the hotel room. Sydnie was stretched out beside him—she must have cleaned up the popcorn mess—smiling at him in a sad sort of way, and he couldn't help wondering if she somehow understood his reticence better than he thought that she would.

 

“I won't look if you don't want me to,” she said, her voice soft, kind.

 

Bas reached out, brushed his knuckles over her cheek as she leaned into his touch. “It's okay,” he told her despite the wild wish that he could just tell her to forget it after all. “I do trust you, you know.”

 

She nodded, catching his hand and twining her fingers with his. “You don't trust yourself.”

 

He winced. It wasn't a question, and she . . . she was right. “Just . . . fast . . . okay?”

 

Her gentle smile was tempered by a certain sadness that he couldn't comprehend. Leaning down, she kissed him softly, her lips no more than a whisper against his. She let go of his hand so that he could slip his arms around her. Feathering kisses over his cheeks and forehead, his eyes and nose, his chin and jaw line, she calmed him, comforted him, almost made him forget the worries that plagued him.

 

Scooting closer, she pressed her body against his, kissing her way back to his lips, her fingertips stroking his face, tracing the contours of his shoulders, reaching down to tug on the hem of his shirt. He sat up, allowing her to pull it off him before lying back down, granting her the freedom to do what she would . . . Trailing kisses down his neck, along his collarbones, she fanned her fingers over the expanse of skin on his chest, his abdomen. His body reacted in a riot of sensations, a thousand tiny flames igniting, converging, burning him from the inside out. The cool satin of her robe heated to his touch; the brush of her hair over his skin setting off a chain reaction that shot straight to his groin.

 

Digging his claws into the coverlet, he felt every muscle in his body tensing, straining. Unable to do much more than to lie there and take it, Bas felt as though every strand of his being was being wound tighter and tighter. She sighed, a throaty sound, a rusty purr, and he could feel sweat breaking over his brow, his chest. Fighting against the overwhelming desire to grab her, to claim her, Bas tightened his fists even more, rasping out a strangled sound as Sydnie's fingers slipped under the waistband of his jeans.

 

She sat up, biting her lip as she unbuttoned the last of his clothing. Unable to look at her, to watch her, he grabbed the pillow and dragged it over his face once more. She sighed softly but didn't try to take it away. Wrapping his arms over it so tightly that she likely wouldn't be able to pull it off him, Bas groaned as the deafening `snick' of his zipper cracked like thunder in the room.

 

“Lift your hips, puppy,” she crooned. He didn't want to help her, but he couldn't stop himself, either. She grasped the jeans along with his boxer shorts, pulling them down the length of his legs and dropping them off the end of the bed. “Oh, it's . . .” she trailed off. He grimaced at the odd note of wonder in her voice, then gasped sharply, his mind rebelling against the sensation that was both foreign and familiar at the same time as Sydnie's smooth, soft hands closed around him.

 

His body reacted, a powerful surge of inebriating desire pulsing through him from somewhere deep down inside. He could feel the rising urgency as she stroked him, her hands gripping him tight then releasing as she pumped the length of him. He tried to hold back; fought to contain the oblivion of pleasure. Her touch was too insistent, too demanding, and with a ragged cry muffled by the pillow, Bas' body stiffen, lifted his hips against her descending hands. The hot splatter of his orgasm shot onto his stomach, spilled over her fingers, dripped between her hands. She laughed softly, her hands letting go of him, and it took him a moment to register that she'd slipped off the bed.

 

Minutes later, as his breathing calmed, he felt the warm caress of a wet washcloth. Sydnie wiped him clean before stroking him to hardness once more. Feathering touches, the lightest of caresses, her fingers danced over his flesh as he trembled and shuddered, mumbling incoherent pleas, begging her to stop. If she heard him, she gave no indication, stroking him, her hand tight but gentle. Moist skin pulling against skin added an almost painful friction, and he groaned.

 

Bas couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't concentrate on anything but Sydnie's attention and the madness that wrapped around his brain any time she was near. He wanted to stop her, wanted to make her understand that he just couldn't take it, wanted to beg her to keep going. The conflicting emotions warred within him, the rising temper of resurgent need swelling in the dim light. He felt the bed shift, trembling as Sydnie knelt between his legs. In the incoherent state of his mind, the thread of a thought started to form only to burst in a searing syncopation of heat and light and blistering wetness. She drew him into her mouth, her teeth grazing over the length of him—as much as she could take in. He felt himself hit the back of her throat, and she gagged just a little but didn't stop. Roughened tongue stroking him, sucking him deeper—a little deeper—she moaned softly, the reverberation rocking straight through him as he involuntarily bucked his hips, sending himself impossibly deep as her hand wrapped around the base of him.

 

“God, Sydnie, no,” he choked out, body trembling as he tried to hold himself in check. Wrapping her fingers around his balls, she squeezed gently, and he rasped out a fierce groan.

 

He sprang free from the suction of her lips with a slurpy, wet `pop', shivering violently as the cooler air hit his overheated body. Running the very tip of her tongue along the ridge below the head of his penis, she rumbled out a little purr. He could feel the uncontrollable spasms as he jerked around in her hands, and Sydnie uttered a husky giggle as she sucked him into her mouth once more. The edges of her fangs raked against him, and he drew a sharp breath as she clamped her lips around him, creating a suction, a vacuum, a vortex that drew him deeper and deeper.

 

“Fuck!” he half-whimpered, half-growled, squeezing his eyes closed as the pillow covering his face ripped under the abuse of his claws. “Stop,” he pleaded, whispering, body convulsing as the pulsing, throbbing flow of blood thundered in his ears. “Sydnie, please, I . . .”

 

She drew him deeper, sucked him harder, her tongue raking over him; endless pleasure that bordered on pain. He could feel the surge of his orgasm rising higher, closer, harder to ignore. “I don't . . . I c-c-can't . . .”

 

Sydnie's tongue flicked faster, goading him further, closer and closer to the edge of his control. His breath caught between his lips and lungs, and he smashed the remnants of the pillow tighter over his face. The bittersweet torment seemed to last forever as he fought against the perilous end. He swung his arms to push her away, but the action came a moment too late. One last stifling breath, one last insistent tug, the vortex of her mouth, of her soul, dragged at him, broke the last strands of control that he possessed. With a ragged cry muffled by the pillow, he called out to God, to heaven, to hell, damning himself as Sydnie squeezed him, sucked him, drained him . . .

 

Somewhere in the distance, he heard her stifled cough. Moments later, the pillow lifted from his face, and he squeezed his eyes closed, face ruddy crimson, unable to look her in the eye as the warmth of her body covered his chest, as she tucked her head into the crook of his neck. Her body was quivering, but she pressed soft kisses on his throat and jaw. Bas grimaced, forcing his lethargic arms to move, to encompass her, to hold her close against his heart as he struggled to breathe, as he fought to form words, as his mind whizzed a mile a minute; far too fast to give voice to the million emotions that humbled him; that lifted him up.

 

“Baby,” he mumbled, forcing his eyes open and staring at Sydnie. “You . . . why did you . . .?”

 

Her smile trembled on her lips, her gaze full of a certain reverence; a heartfelt warmth. “I think you're beautiful, Bas the Hunter,” she murmured. “Why were you hiding yourself?”

 

Flinching at her choice of words, Bas closed his eyes and hugged her tight. “I'm not . . . I'm a monster—a freak,” he replied quietly. “I've heard it all before.”

 

She shook her head, leaning up on her elbow to gaze down at him. Brushing his bangs out of his face, she clucked her tongue and sighed. “A monster?” she echoed. “Why would anyone say that?”

 

Bas' blush deepened. “Because I'm . . . big.”

 

“Wha . . .? Oh,” she replied, and he grimaced since he knew from the tone of her voice that she was smiling. “That's bad?” she teased.

 

He snorted. “Bad enough,” he grumbled.

 

“I thought all men wanted to be big. You should be proud, I'd think.”

 

That comment only served to deepen his blush. Bas shook his head. “Not when the girls are pointing and laughing,” he admitted with a wince.

 

“They laughed at you?” Sydnie wrinkled her nose then shrugged. “I, myself, would have just jumped on you, but . . .”

 

“Be serious, kitty?”

 

“And who says I'm not?”

 

He sighed.

 

“Why were your pants down around these girls . . . and what do they smell like?”

 

He chuckled despite himself at the unmistakable menace in Sydnie's words. “Calm down, baby. It was awhile ago.”

 

She snorted but cuddled against his chest once more, wrapping strands of his hair around her fingers. “All right, what happened?”

 

Bas' wry grin faded. “We were playing basketball at the park—Evan and Gunnar and another of my cousins, Morio . . . the high school baseball team had a game that day, and the park is right next to the school. Anyway, Gunnar and Evan were losing, so Evan—being a dumb ass—yanked my sweatpants down, along with my boxers, and . . . well . . .” He grimaced, wishing that the memory didn't still have the power to make him blush. He sighed, kissing Sydnie's temple as she smiled dreamily and closed her eyes. “The baseball game had just ended, and you've seen for yourself, what happens wherever Gunnar happens to be . . . So the captain of the cheerleading squad and half of her team were hanging around, watching us play when Evan did that . . . I guess I should have been thankful that I had a concealment on at the time.”

 

“So they saw your penis? Is that so bad?”

 

“They pointed and laughed, Sydnie . . . and I spent the rest of my high school career hearing whispers and being told that . . .” he trailed off with a wince, and he cleared his throat. “That I'd kill any girl I tried to sleep with.”

 

“Their loss,” she mumbled, smiling dreamily as she nuzzled closer. “'Nuff talk, puppy . . . I'm sleepy.”

 

Bas scowled. “Wha—? You can't go to sleep now,” he argued.

 

“Why not?” she whined, her brows drawing together in a petulant little scowl.

 

“Well, I—you—we . . . You're just not supposed to; that's all!”

 

“Just hold me, Sebastian,” she whispered, the beginning of her purrs tinting the edges of her words.

 

He heaved a sigh, thoroughly irritated that she would do such a thing to him and then think that she would just go to sleep. She looked so content, though, so happy that he didn't have the heart to wake her, even if he thought that she would ultimately enjoy his attentions.

 

Reaching over to turn off the lamp beside the bed, Bas tried not to disturb the sleeping cat-youkai. Pulling the blanket over her slender form, he smiled into the darkness as he closed his eyes.

 

“Tomorrow, Sydnie . . . We'll stop early, if that's what you want—whatever you want . . . my . . . mate . . .”

 

He thought that he could feel her smile as he drifted off to sleep.

 

 

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A/N:

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Inuyashaloverr ------ Inusbabe ------- Simonkal of Inuy ------ Kurisu no Ryuujin ------ Death-By-Minnow ------ golden_kitsune ------ OROsan0677 ------ animeloca ------ Rawben ------- Shikon no Jedi ------ artemiswaterdragon ------ vvkimbo07 ------ Inu_sesshomaru_luver

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Final Thought fromSydnie:

MY puppy …!

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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Phantasm): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.

 

~Sue~