Chapter 26 Harrison
HARRISON
After landing in Tokyo, our extremely connected local Japanese fixer and his driver take us to our five-star hotel.
My executive assistant in NY, who was warned in advance, has booked us a suite.
As I check us into the spectacular hotel, I realize we have cornered ourselves. It happens when the hotel staff member slides one room card across and then smiles. I pause but not for long.
Our Japanese fixer, aka power broker, personally knows each of the Japanese executives we need to convince I’m not a player. And that I am in love with the woman I am standing next to.
Our fixer smiles, and we share a look. Sam is fast, and she gets it.
As our eyes meet, she takes my elbow, and she takes control. She then leans in and kisses my cheek. My God, she is good with this.
Somehow, we will deal with the one bed issue, but later.
“Well, Harry-san, you and Samantha-san must be tired,” our hired fixer says in his black suit. “And congratulations again. Nice to see you settle down. Finally!”
“Indeed,” I say as we walk towards the elevator.
The conservative Japanese man bows, and I do the same. Sam then steps close as if she and I are deeply in love.
She is clearly better at this than I am, and I make a mental note. A note to be less of a robot and more of a human.
“Sleep well, and I will see you in the morning,” our fixer says.
I nod, then walk my wife-to-be into the elevator. Finally, we step inside, and the fixer continues to watch us.
As soon as the doors close, I let go, and I pace. I then look up and sigh. “Fuck!” As we go up, around fifty floors, my mind churns. I then find her watching me.
“And I thought you were the cool, calm businessman.”
I give her my coldest grumpy energy. I am used to pressure, but this here is messed up. I need to focus and plan, and I thoroughly dislike chaos.
Sam is also looking stunning. Too fucking stunning. Even if she doesn’t need makeup, she has applied some today.
We also bought her clothes at the airport in Hawaii because neither of us expected her to need to be overly presentable.
She is now wearing a conservative classic long white linen dress and a cute white neck scarf.
Her shoes are perfect in style, and she is classy.
She also looks sophisticated, and she is distractingly perfect.
The chain of white pearls was a good investment I made to finish off the look, and show the Japanese I, or we, have settled down.
I do, however, suspect she is not wearing panties.
Being around any hot women now will naturally throw me off my game and having her ultra close may ruin all my plans. There is a reason world-class boxers are not allowed to have sex pre-fight. I inhale, trying not to look at Samantha.
She is calm, she is refined, she is graceful, and she is way too much.
I look back at her, and she raises an eyebrow. “Darling.”
“What?” I growl.
“What’s wrong?”
I sigh, but what can I say?
You. You’re too… well, perfect. I’m here to do a deal. And you, you’re throwing me off. The deal I should be locking down is business, when really, I should be locking you down, and forever.
“Nothing,” I lie like a coward. I sigh and close my eyes. I’ve done deals with media, movie and advertising companies for over a decade. Also, banks, and in the billions.
But I’ve never been distracted. I inhale and breathe through my nose. Focus. Focus. Focus.
After entering the large marble hotel suite that overlooks gardens in Tokyo, I know the last thing I can do is sleep with her. Or get more distracted.
I have billions about to go on the line, and my reputation. Plus, the reputations of my three companies, my life’s work.
If I mess the deal up now, I could lose billions in share value. Even more.
If the deal goes ahead, but the Japanese find out late, with the loaned billions on the line, all hell could break loose, and I could lose everything.
I have not realized that until now, and the idea makes me sick. I feel like I have walked into a trap, but it is my trap and my doing. Looking out the window, I fight to breathe. I can do this, if I don’t lose my mind, or claim her. Mark her.
And make her mine.
I undo my tie and pace in the suite. Samantha walks to the curtains and she pulls them further open.
“So, the old one bed dilemma,” she says, crossing her arms and taking the suite in.
“If we order another bed,” I say, “the staff could talk, and we could get found out.”
I think fast, having processed that option in the elevator on the way up.
We exchange a look as Sam pours whisky at the large lavish bar. She pours a second and swirls the whisky around the ice. “Look, we’re both adults,” she says calmly and maturely.
“You take half the bed, and I’ll take the other.”
“It won’t work,” I growl, knowing it. She passes me my whisky, and we clink our glasses.
“Why the fuck not?”
“You,” I say, meaning it. We sip, and I try to relax.
“Look, I’m really average. You need to calm down.”
“You. Are. Not. Average.”
“I’m like a seven, eight in black clothing.”
“Phah!” I say.
“What?”
“You just have no idea,” I growl. Sam walks up, confused. She has a right to know, and maybe now is the time to tell her.
Why the heck not?
“Okay, look, it’s like this! First, you, you’re not a fucking seven.
You’re not even close. You’re a fucking nine.
You’re a twelve on the inside. You are kind.
You are caring. You are humble. And your imagination is next level.
No one compares to you for banter and, well, adventure. You’re also stable. Stable as fuck.”
Sam looks confused, but she needs to know.
I pace and continue, “Secondly, after that, that first night when we had sex, you’ve been on my mind way too much.”
Samantha watches me, observing me with focused eyes. Her wicked mouth is also now open too, and it is hot.
“I also have another problem,” I huff.
“Which is?” she asks, raising a perfect eyebrow.
“I cannot sleep in the same room with a woman. Without…”
“What?” There is silence. “What?”
“Wanting to take them!” I almost yell as I pace.
I saw my tiger Tusk as a cub and on the way to the vet. I have seen him pace when something is wrong. I am now doing what big cats do when they are trapped or caged.
Samantha walks close, and I get even more agitated. She knocks her whisky back in one.
“Thanks for the kind words, really. One other thing,” she says, standing right in front of me.
“You need to control yourself. Me, I’m gonna sleep. It is late. And we have a big day tomorrow.”
Samantha then walks away as if it’s not a big thing.
As I look out the window, I see her in the window’s reflection. She walks into the bathroom with a small bag, and then she exits.
The huge bed is behind her, and she slowly removes her white shoes and then the chic white linen dress. She is now naked, and I growl inside.
She is still wearing the white scarf around her neck, and somehow, it makes it worse.
From her bag, she pulls out the cutest white lace panties. She pulls them on and looks at me. I try to look away, but it is clear she knew I was there and watching.
I walk around the suite, and then I sit in a leather chair. Slowly, Sam climbs into the bed, elegant and catlike. As she slips into the soft white sheets, I growl, hard. I then sigh in my dark navy suit.
I am beyond distracted. I want to slide in beside her, and I want to make love to her. I also want to fuck her like there is no tomorrow. But I also want to stay focused, and I want to close on the deal.
I want the biggest entertainment and media company in the world, but I also want her!
Ten minutes later, and still hard, I take off my suit. I hang it up, and exhausted, I climb into the bed. I stay on my side, and I am as hard as steel.
Inside my mind, I am climbing the walls, but I force myself to not move. I want to push the head of my cock inside her again, or at least bury my face in her and taste her.
She keeps her distance from me, and she is wise. I sigh loudly, trying not to imagine her on the end of my cock.
After a minute, she rolls over, and then she slides closer. My hard cock is now only a foot away, and if she kisses me now, I won’t be able to help myself.
She puts a hand on my jaw, and we are facing each other in the moonlight.
It is heaven, and it is hell.
Slowly and softly, she kisses me on the cheek. Our eyes hold, and we are both basically naked and wanting.
I know the universe is messing with me, and I know it is toying with me. Like I am a mouse and the universe is a cat. Another great cat like Tusk.
“Control yourself and go to sleep.”
I continue to stare at her, and I do not move. She is right; I need to control my urges. It’s just hard with her.
“Stop being stupid,” she says in a whisper. “And stop doing it.”
“Doing what?” I growl.
“Stop. Thinking. Of. Fucking. Me!”
She says it so softly and so sweetly, it is confusing. She kisses my nose, and I sigh. My hard, aching cock is hungry, and it is a foot from her again.
“Now is not the time, Harry.”
I’m unsure what to think of that, but as she turns and offers me her back and butt, I am tempted to take them and mount her.
Sam slides away from me and returns to the far end of the bed. To where her pillow is, and where we are both safe.
I inhale, starting to calm. A minute later, as I lay on my back and look up at the moonlight, she speaks softly. “Sleep. Now.”
An hour later, I do.
The next two days of being shown Tokyo sights, having Japanese meals, having old-fashioned get-to-knows, and general time wasting are tough. I am the type that needs to get things done, and I am best working hard, alone.
Creating huge media campaigns or helping put movies together is what I do. Also, building companies.
The painfully slow and traditional way of deciding if one wants to do a deal in Japan is alien to me.
I try to remember to come across as committed and loving to Samantha and for all to see. But again, it is new to me. In saying that, it is starting to feel right.
I notice the half dozen Japanese executives with us observing me. I dislike being on show, but I like spending time with Samantha.
The older wives of the execs attend various lunches and dinners, and as always, Samantha charms everyone.
She is spectacular at understanding energy and the human social side of things. Thank God, because I am not, at all.
The second night sleeping with Samantha is hell. Well, heaven in hell.
I awake hard, spooning her, and I quickly climb out of bed and walk to the window. Ten minutes later, I am still hard, so I have a cold shower.
I have pitched huge media, movies and global advertising campaigns. And I almost always succeed in what I try.
Here and now, I am losing, and I feel it deep down.
I think back to past obstacles and challenges.
Trying to be celibate around Samantha and not slide my cock inside her slick folds and pull her by her hair is ruthlessly hard. Harder than building my first billion-dollar company.
It is her, or me, or maybe even us that is making it hard. No. It is making it impossible.
Maybe I’m just getting old, and maybe, just maybe, I am losing my shit.
There is one other problem. There is a chance she is The One.
And if she is the one, she is more important than the billions in upside. Far more important.