Kai’s brain short-circuits when Ikenaga drops the truth: she knows he’s a fellow freak, and she admits his wandering eyes have been living rent-free in her head for ages. And plot twist? She didn’t hate it. Not one bit. Now he’s standing there, face-to-face with her curves that could make a saint sweat.
She glides toward him with this dreamy, half-lidded look that screams trouble in every language. Her voice drops to honey-level sweet as she whispers that she’s been aching for this moment. And then, bam, the very body he’s been drooling over through glass for weeks is suddenly all up in his personal space.
And then she goes full beast mode. Her moves are more aggressive than a Karen with expired coupon, and she’s not taking no for an answer. His guilt about the whole voyeur gig is still there but her relentless offensive is frying his circuits faster than speed of light. It’s a full-blown invasion, and he’s waving the white flag.
