Book I Of the 'Not Vanilla' Imagine Series.
𝚃𝚆: includes strong language, Sexual content, Explicit content.
Readers discretion is Advised
Imagines Between you & Michael Jackson.
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★ 1992 Tokyo Word Count:3.7k
You were sprawled on the plush couch in your cozy hotel suite, the gentle crackling of the fireplace adding warmth and comfort to the room. You and Michael were staying in this luxurious suite in Tokyo, taking a well-deserved break from his grueling tour schedule. Michael was out visiting toy stores, buying toys and games for children in need for Christmas. You, on the other hand, decided to stay back and rest, still feeling worn out from the excitement of the past few nights filled with Michael's energetic performances.
The sound of the door unlocking broke the silence, and you turned your head to see Michael walking in. He kicked off his loafers and made his way to the closet, hanging up his blue and white letterman jacket. He carefully placed his fedora on the top shelf and closed the door, then took off his aviators and set them next to yours on the counter.
"Hi, baby," you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips.
Michael looked up at you, his face lighting up with a smile. He walked over, the soft shuffle of his feet against the carpet filling the room. He sat down beside you, gently pulling you close and laying your head on his lap. "Hi, beautiful," he murmured. "Are you feeling alright?" He asked, his cool hands tenderly rubbing your forehead.
"I'm fine, baby, don't worry," you assured him.
Michael leaned over and kissed your forehead, his lips warm and comforting. "I'll always worry about you," he said softly.
You rolled your eyes playfully. "How was the toy store?" you asked.
"Oh, it was wonderful! I found something for us to keep entertained during our days off together," Michael said, his eyes twinkling with excitement.
"And what's that?" you asked, intrigued.
"For me to know and for you to find out," he teased, flashing his brows mischievously.
"You always have something up your sleeve, huh?" you said as you sat up.
Michael patted his lap and began unbuttoning the first few buttons of his red corduroy shirt. You moved the cover off you and eased onto his lap, straddling him. "Of course I do, I'm your husband," he said with a playful grin.
"I'd hope so," you replied, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, revealing his white undershirt beneath.
"Have you been laying here since I left?" he asked, concern in his voice.
You nodded. "I only got up to eat some soup I cooked," you said.
"You cooked?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.
You nodded again. "Are you hungry?" you asked.
Michael licked his lips, his eyes trailing up your body, admiring your curves. "For you," he said, his voice low and teasing.
