Sin and Punishment
Iruka stared dolefully into his beer, trying hard to ignore Kotesu urging Genma into balancing a senbon on his nose. Drunk as he was, it wouldn’t take much more convincing. Sighing, Iruka resolved to be well out of the way when the blood started flying. He was edging toward the rear entrance of the bar when a sudden drop in the noise level triggered his instincts.
He glanced up and froze.
The woman standing in the doorway of the bar was sensuous and curved in all the right places. A platinum waterfall of hair tumbled down her back to brush the top of her low-riding leather pants. A black leather corset top that revealed more than it hid completed the outfit. Armguards and gloves were bright with deadly silver weapons, gleaming in the smoky haze of the bar. She looked dangerous and sexy as hell.
And she was heading straight for him.
“Hello, handsome,” she purred, low and throaty. Her smile was slow as molasses and did interesting things to the pit of his stomach.
“A-ah, hello,” he managed, feeling every eye in the bar on them.
“Buy you a drink?” She smoothly slid closer until her leather-clad breasts were brushing his arm.
“Actually, he was just leaving,” Genma interrupted cheerily, slinging an arm over Iruka’s shoulders. “But I’d be more’n happy to take you up on that offer.”
Her smoky gaze went glacial. “I don’t recall offering anything to you.”
Genma was obviously too drunk to get the message. He draped his other arm over her shoulders. “Don’t be that way. Me an’ ‘Ruka here are good buds… Howza ‘bout you buy him a drink an’ I buy you one? Then we c’n see how the rest o’ the night goes, huh, gorgeous?”
The blonde’s eyes fastened on where Genma’s fingers were trailing languidly over the upper curve of her breast. Rage suffused her face.
Iruka winced.
“Take your hand off me before I shove it up your ass.”
“What…?”
That was as far as he got.
The woman grabbed his wrist and deftly tossed him over the bar.
Genma hit the mirror with a shattering crash.
"Try and touch me again and the mirror’s not the only think I’ll break,” she offered sweetly, then turned back to Iruka.
Who wasn’t there anymore. He’d used the opportunity to escape.
XxXxXxX
Monday morning and Iruka was at the academy an hour and a half before his class was even due to arrive. Because he’d agreed to go out drinking last night with Izumo and Kotetsu, he’d yet to grade their papers on the chakra system of the body. So he settled down at his desk with a carafe of coffee to grade.
He felt the presence of chakra even before the window slid open.
He was on his feet a kunai in one hand and a handful of senbon in the other in less than a heartbeat.
The platinum-haired beauty from the bar stuck her head in the window and grinned at him. “A girl would think you didn’t like her or something.”
“You…” Iruka blinked. “What are you doing here?”
She slipped in through the window.
Iruka choked. She looked nothing like last night, instead wearing a classic schoolgirl’s outfit; something that looked like she’s copied it from a teenage boy’s wet dream. From small feet in polished black shoes, her long legs went all the way up to a tiny little skirt that barely hid the matching panties. A middy blouse left her toned abdomen bared. The top of the blouse was barely held together over her breasts by the red bow.
“What the hell?” Iruka managed.
“I’ve been a naughty girl, sensei,” she purred, slinking closer and plucking the kunai from his loosened grip. “I’ve skipped school and been hanging out with the wrong crowds. You should keep me after school.” She slipped one hand around his neck and leaned close, pressing her breasts against his chest.
Iruka took a step back.
Her fingers clutched his hair, pulling the hairband free.
As he moved out of her grasp, his hair promptly fell around his face. He shoved it back impatiently. “In case you failed to notice, it’s before school.”
“Mmm.” She pouted, lips pressed together in a little moue. “Still, I think you should punish me for being so naughty, sensei.”
Swift as a striking snake, she moved around him to shoot the lock home on the door. Her storm-gray eyes glittered with sexual hunger. She prowled toward him, her every move proclaiming desire. “Maybe you should paddle me, sensei,” she growled softly. “After all, I’m being very disrespectful.”
Iruka stepped back. “Now, you’re just being ridiculous.”
She stopped and tilted her head to regard him curiously. “What’s ridiculous?”
Iruka planted his hands on his hips and directed his most potent teacher glare at her. “This whole thing. Why the hell are you acting like this?”
Her smile became predatory. In the blink of an eye, she was shoving him backwards.
The desk hit the back of his thighs.
Quick as lightning, she pushed him down and straddled him. “Acting like what?” she rumbled, catching one of his hands and guiding it under her blouse to the warm swell of her breast. Her nipple hardened against his palm. “Like I want you? Which I assure you, I do. Or like I want to bend you over this desk and ride you hard until we’re both too spent to move?”
Iruka tugged his hand free from her grasp and withdrew it from her shirt. He pushed her off and sat up.
Anger flared in her eyes.
Ignoring her glare, he reached out and caught her chin firmly. “As appealing as that sounds, Kakashi, I’d rather you do it in your own form, not a teenager’s wet dream.”
Her face went blank. “You knew?”
“Since you threw Genma in the bar,” Iruka chuckled. “I’ve watched you train enough to recognize that move. Once I had, it was easy enough to figure out. Good job on masking your chakra. I didn’t recognize it at first.”
Iruka tugged her unresisting face closer and caught her lips in a devouring kiss, a clash of tongues and teeth that could leave no doubt as to his interest. “Tell you what, Kakashi… Lose the jutsu and I’ll call for a substitute… and then we’ll see about you riding me until neither of us can move.”
Kakashi grinned and moved his hands to dispel the jutsu.
Iruka caught one wrist before he could finish. “Keep the outfit,” he growled. “You’ve been naughty and are in dire need of some serious punishment.”
He glanced up and froze.
The woman standing in the doorway of the bar was sensuous and curved in all the right places. A platinum waterfall of hair tumbled down her back to brush the top of her low-riding leather pants. A black leather corset top that revealed more than it hid completed the outfit. Armguards and gloves were bright with deadly silver weapons, gleaming in the smoky haze of the bar. She looked dangerous and sexy as hell.
And she was heading straight for him.
“Hello, handsome,” she purred, low and throaty. Her smile was slow as molasses and did interesting things to the pit of his stomach.
“A-ah, hello,” he managed, feeling every eye in the bar on them.
“Buy you a drink?” She smoothly slid closer until her leather-clad breasts were brushing his arm.
“Actually, he was just leaving,” Genma interrupted cheerily, slinging an arm over Iruka’s shoulders. “But I’d be more’n happy to take you up on that offer.”
Her smoky gaze went glacial. “I don’t recall offering anything to you.”
Genma was obviously too drunk to get the message. He draped his other arm over her shoulders. “Don’t be that way. Me an’ ‘Ruka here are good buds… Howza ‘bout you buy him a drink an’ I buy you one? Then we c’n see how the rest o’ the night goes, huh, gorgeous?”
The blonde’s eyes fastened on where Genma’s fingers were trailing languidly over the upper curve of her breast. Rage suffused her face.
Iruka winced.
“Take your hand off me before I shove it up your ass.”
“What…?”
That was as far as he got.
The woman grabbed his wrist and deftly tossed him over the bar.
Genma hit the mirror with a shattering crash.
"Try and touch me again and the mirror’s not the only think I’ll break,” she offered sweetly, then turned back to Iruka.
Who wasn’t there anymore. He’d used the opportunity to escape.
XxXxXxX
Monday morning and Iruka was at the academy an hour and a half before his class was even due to arrive. Because he’d agreed to go out drinking last night with Izumo and Kotetsu, he’d yet to grade their papers on the chakra system of the body. So he settled down at his desk with a carafe of coffee to grade.
He felt the presence of chakra even before the window slid open.
He was on his feet a kunai in one hand and a handful of senbon in the other in less than a heartbeat.
The platinum-haired beauty from the bar stuck her head in the window and grinned at him. “A girl would think you didn’t like her or something.”
“You…” Iruka blinked. “What are you doing here?”
She slipped in through the window.
Iruka choked. She looked nothing like last night, instead wearing a classic schoolgirl’s outfit; something that looked like she’s copied it from a teenage boy’s wet dream. From small feet in polished black shoes, her long legs went all the way up to a tiny little skirt that barely hid the matching panties. A middy blouse left her toned abdomen bared. The top of the blouse was barely held together over her breasts by the red bow.
“What the hell?” Iruka managed.
“I’ve been a naughty girl, sensei,” she purred, slinking closer and plucking the kunai from his loosened grip. “I’ve skipped school and been hanging out with the wrong crowds. You should keep me after school.” She slipped one hand around his neck and leaned close, pressing her breasts against his chest.
Iruka took a step back.
Her fingers clutched his hair, pulling the hairband free.
As he moved out of her grasp, his hair promptly fell around his face. He shoved it back impatiently. “In case you failed to notice, it’s before school.”
“Mmm.” She pouted, lips pressed together in a little moue. “Still, I think you should punish me for being so naughty, sensei.”
Swift as a striking snake, she moved around him to shoot the lock home on the door. Her storm-gray eyes glittered with sexual hunger. She prowled toward him, her every move proclaiming desire. “Maybe you should paddle me, sensei,” she growled softly. “After all, I’m being very disrespectful.”
Iruka stepped back. “Now, you’re just being ridiculous.”
She stopped and tilted her head to regard him curiously. “What’s ridiculous?”
Iruka planted his hands on his hips and directed his most potent teacher glare at her. “This whole thing. Why the hell are you acting like this?”
Her smile became predatory. In the blink of an eye, she was shoving him backwards.
The desk hit the back of his thighs.
Quick as lightning, she pushed him down and straddled him. “Acting like what?” she rumbled, catching one of his hands and guiding it under her blouse to the warm swell of her breast. Her nipple hardened against his palm. “Like I want you? Which I assure you, I do. Or like I want to bend you over this desk and ride you hard until we’re both too spent to move?”
Iruka tugged his hand free from her grasp and withdrew it from her shirt. He pushed her off and sat up.
Anger flared in her eyes.
Ignoring her glare, he reached out and caught her chin firmly. “As appealing as that sounds, Kakashi, I’d rather you do it in your own form, not a teenager’s wet dream.”
Her face went blank. “You knew?”
“Since you threw Genma in the bar,” Iruka chuckled. “I’ve watched you train enough to recognize that move. Once I had, it was easy enough to figure out. Good job on masking your chakra. I didn’t recognize it at first.”
Iruka tugged her unresisting face closer and caught her lips in a devouring kiss, a clash of tongues and teeth that could leave no doubt as to his interest. “Tell you what, Kakashi… Lose the jutsu and I’ll call for a substitute… and then we’ll see about you riding me until neither of us can move.”
Kakashi grinned and moved his hands to dispel the jutsu.
Iruka caught one wrist before he could finish. “Keep the outfit,” he growled. “You’ve been naughty and are in dire need of some serious punishment.”