CHAPTER 101: PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT

Mika smiled wryly and answered simply.

"It’s only natural. With time, you get better at anything...Practice makes perfect, after all."

At that word her head jerked, and her eyes lit with suspicion. She leaned back slightly, staring hard at him.

"Practice? What do you mean, practice?...Who exactly were you practicing with, Mika?"

Her tone sharpened into that of a nosy interrogator, and she narrowed her eyes with the curiosity of a mother grilling her son.

"Hey, I know you’re popular with girls. Don’t think I don’t notice. So tell me, who have you been practicing with? Which girl? What are their names? Don’t tell me you were satisfied with just one either, knowing how you are!"

Mika only shook his head with a faint smile. "That’s not something I can say."

Her suspicion deepened into outrage. She jabbed her finger into his chest, eyes glinting.

"At least tell me if it was Charlotte. Or one of her sisters. Or any girl at all! Don’t you dare tell me you kept those lips to yourself all this time, you, of all people? I don’t believe it!"

He just shook his head again, silent to which she leaned closer, her voice softening in a coaxing way.

"Come on, Mika, please!~ I’m really curious. I promise I won’t tell Charlotte, even if it was someone else. I won’t butt into your love life or your business. Just tell me who. I want to know!~"

Her persistence was relentless, but he only shook his head one final time, lips curving in amusement.

"No matter how many times you ask." He said calmly. "You won’t get a single word out of me."

Yelena’s lips curved into a pout, her eyes flashing with a wounded kind of stubbornness. She clutched at his shirt like a sulking child, though her voice trembled with earnestness.

"It’s not fair, Mika. It’s not fair at all. You’re treating me like some outsider when I’m not. I’m like a mother to you, aren’t I? And a son is supposed to tell his mother about these kinds of things...about love, about his heart, about who he kisses and who he holds."

"...Why won’t you tell me? Why are you keeping me out of it? It’s not fair at all! I want to be involved in these things too."

"You want to knew why I’m not willing to tell you?" Mika exhaled through his nose, holding her gaze with that sharp, steady look of his. "Well, it’s because I don’t trust you with it at all."

"You...don’t trust me?" Her eyes widened at the bluntness, her lips parting in disbelief.

He nodded, tone firm. "No, I don’t. Because I know you. You’ll go babbling off and gossiping and telling the others about how I spoke about my private matter and boast about iy, even if you swear you won’t."

"...And not to mention if your daughter or her sisters caught wind of it, it would be a nightmare. I can’t risk it. Not with them."

Yelena’s mouth hung open, offended, her hand flying to her chest.

"Mika! How can you say that to me? Me, of all people?" She gave a bitter laugh, shaking her head, her whole face painted with disbelief, before then adding with a thoughtful gaze, "I mean, I most definitely will rub it in the faces of the other for being the only one to know such a secret."

"...But I still won’t tell them the actual details as that’s between us!"

Mika simply scoffed and thought of brushing it aside, moving on from the sore subject.

But then a flicker of mischief ran through him, and he realized this might be the perfect moment, an opportunity to see how far he could push her, to gauge her reaction, to test the boundary of how she saw him.

His hand shot up suddenly, cupping her face and pulling her closer. Yelena’s breath stopped, her eyes widening at the unexpected closeness. Their lips were barely apart, the heat of her breath mingling with his as her lashes fluttered.

"Then what about this?" Mika murmured, his voice low and teasing, eyes locked onto hers. "I can’t tell you who I’ve kissed before, or what my past relationships were, but—"

His gaze dropped deliberately to her lips, lingering there before rising again to her dazed eyes.

"...I can let you experience it yourself. I can kiss you just like I kissed those other girls. What do you think about that, hm?"

Her whole body went stiff, and she stared at him, her mouth twitching as though she didn’t know whether to gasp or laugh.

For one brief, dangerous heartbeat, he thought she might lean in, her eyes glimmered with something unreadable.

But then, Yelena suddenly burst into laughter, pushing his face away lightly with her palm as she pulled back.

"Oh, Mika, what are you saying?!" She chuckled, her voice half-teasing, half-scolding. "Me? God, you’re insane. There’s no way we could ever do something like that."

She shook her head, grinning at him like he was a child caught misbehaving.

"No matter how curious I might be about your love life, there’s no way I could kiss you on the lips. Stop joking, you rascal."

Her laughter rang out, but Mika’s heart sank just a little.

This, this was exactly what he feared. She didn’t see him as a man at all, only as the boy she’d once cradled and scolded, the boy tied to her family.

Still, he couldn’t let his disappointment show as this was already expected, so he forced a grin, covering it up as smoothly as he could.

And instead of retreating, he surprised her again by wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tightly against his chest. She let out a soft yelp, blinking at him in confusion as he pressed his forehead to hers.

"Fine." He muttered, a faint chuckle threading his voice. "Maybe I was joking. But you didn’t have to reject me so harshly."

"Oh? Did I hurt your poor heart, my dear Mika?" Yelena tilted her head back to look at him, smirking slyly through the flush in her cheeks. "With that handsome face of yours, I bet no other girl’s ever rejected you before. This must be the very first time, isn’t it?"

Her grin widened as she poked his chest with one sharp finger, playing along.

"Ahh, you look angry. What are you going to do about it, then?"

Mika’s brows shot up, an incredulous smile breaking across his lips. "What am I going to do about it?"

"Yes." She teased, eyes dancing, her voice lilting with mischief. "Tell me. What will you do to punish the cruel woman who rejected you so coldly?"

His smirk turned wolfish as he tightened his arms around her, dragging her even closer until she squeaked.

"What I’m going to do..." He whispered against her ear. "...is kiss her so much, so relentlessly, that she’ll beg me to stop."

And before she could react, he tilted her head and began pressing kisses all over her face, her cheeks, her temple, her jaw, rapid and relentless.

"Peck!♡~ Peck!♡~ Kiss!♡~ Peck!♡~ Taste!♡~"

"Ah, Mika! Stop, stop!" Yelena squealed, laughter bubbling out of her throat as she wriggled in his grip. "It’s too much, too much! You’re kissing me too much!"

"Nope." Mika said firmly, grinning against her skin as he held her tighter. "This is your punishment for rejecting me."

"Mmm!♡~ Mmm!♡~ Smack!♡~ Mmm!♡~ Lick!♡~"

"Ahh! Mikaaa!" She giggled, squealing louder as his lips landed again and again across her face, smooching noisily, kissing her forehead, her nose, even along her chin.

But despite her protests, her arms wound tighter around him, her body leaning into his warmth instead of away.

Her laughter was breathless, her cheeks glowing, and though she cried out for him to stop, her heart was soaring.

Deep inside, she was happy, so happy, because in that moment, she felt it fully: her dear Mika was finally back and suprisingly more passionate then before...