Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 7

on the bulge.
    Kazuhiro took two steps toward him, closing the distance between them until they were nearly touching.
    Jonathon's breath came quicker. Kazuhiro was so close, he could feel the heat of him. He breathed deep, taking in the washed scent of Kazuhiro's body with the delicate smell of flowers, mostly likely from the fragrant oil used to style Kazuhiro's hair into the smooth topknot. He could now see just how stunningly beautiful Kazuhiro's features were.
    Kazuhiro's voice left him in husky whisper. "I've never seen such beautiful eyes."
    "I was thinking the same about yours." Jonathon moved his hand forward the slightest bit, touching Kazuhiro's in the gentlest of touches. He looked down to the hands, his own skin so light and fair, Kazuhiro's a more golden hue, and the thought fluttered through his mind how beautifully they complimented each other.
    Kazuhiro also had his gaze lowered to their hands. Jonathon had his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and Kazuhiro touched his fingertips to the top of the forearm, brushing down it to Jonathon's hand.
    A hushed moan slipped from Jonathon's throat at the soft caress. He closed his eyes in a long blink, and when he opened them again, he found Kazuhiro's focused on him. He smiled. "Perhaps we should move dinner up to now."
    Kazuhiro let out a warm laugh. "I-"
    "Lord Takezaki, please forgive my intrusion."
    Both Jonathon and Kazuhiro looked in the direction of the voice, to a samurai bowing low in the gateway to the garden.
    Kazuhiro faced him. "What do you need?"
    "A messenger has arrived for you, my lord. Nakano-san sent me to inform you."
    "Thank you." Kazuhiro looked back to Jonathon. "It seems our time will have to wait until later."
    "I'll look forward to it."
    Kazuhiro gave him another smile, then turned to leave.
    Jonathon watched him walk away, and when Kazuhiro disappeared around the corner, he dropped to the veranda, as if all his strength had fled. It'd taken an immense amount of control to not start stripping and beg for Kazuhiro to mount him.
    Though it was more than the intense arousal making his legs feel weak. Swirling in his stomach was a nauseous sense of betrayal. He should've told Kazuhiro everything; how he really knew Barrett's nephew, what'd happened between them, why Barrett had sent him there.
    He felt he'd missed an opportunity to gain Kazuhiro's trust, and now that it was gone, he feared it would be too late to capture it again. If he told him everything now, Kazuhiro would wonder why he'd kept it secret to begin with.
    Jonathon closed his eyes, thinking on the velvet pouch he'd held just minutes ago. For as much as he wanted Kazuhiro's trust, he also feared what he would do with it once he had it.
    ****
    Kazuhiro reclined in the tall, round wooden tub, his arms draped back on the edge. He breathed in the steam, letting it relax his body further. Beneath the water, his rigid cock rested on his lower abdomen. He savored the sensation of arousal humming through him. It had lingered within him all day, but now he was able to let himself enjoy it.
    That afternoon, he'd met with Saigo-san, general of the Satsuma troops, and informed him about the outcome of the attack in the forest, as it'd been some of Saigo's men who'd uncovered the plot. Saigo wasn't fully pleased he was housing a foreigner, but he wasn't speaking out against him either. And he told Saigo that night the same thing he told him when he agreed to stand against the Shogun; he didn't consider himself at war against the Westerners. This was against the Shogun, whose weakness had allowed them into their country. Saigo-san wasn't the most pleased with that line of thought, but he accepted it since it ultimately meant they were allies.
    Kazuhiro opened his eyes, staring into the steam. If he was to be fully honest with himself, he wasn't sure the Emperor would be any different than the Shogun, despite his promises to expel all foreigners. To him, they seemed like words the Emperor knew a few powerful men wanted to hear, and with their support he could gain back the seat of power rather than being just a figurehead. He feared this was a lost battle, even though it hadn't fully yet begun. It had been lost from the very moment the black ships of Perry sailed into Edo Bay. There were many in Japan who saw the value and profit to be gained from the outside world. Even he did to some extent.
    Kazuhiro's thoughts turned back to their original focus. Addison-san… How did so lovely a