No Ordinary Love (35 page)

Take your time. Dragons are the hardest animals to trap. Shit. I can’t think of a movie or book where one was even caged.

“If you want me, then you’ll have to follow my rules.” I tapped my chest. “We’re out of Tokyo now. Around these parts, I run this.”

He snorted. It was a great sign. He hadn’t completely lost his sense of humor.

“This is funny to you?” I asked.

“Just because this isn’t Japan, doesn’t mean I don’t own this area.” He came closer. “I want to fuck you.”

A shiver of desire ran through me. “I’m a tiger. Is that how you catch a tiger?” I asked.

“You’re a woman.”

“No.”

“Trust me.” He licked my lips. “You’re a woman, one of the worst out there, because you’re one that’s hard to get out of my system. I can't sleep.”

I shook my head. “If you think making love to me will get me out of your system, then you’re crazier than I thought. I’m here to stay.”

He directed his attention from my belt to my face, and took off his glasses. Those beautiful eyes gazed back at me. “Today is just one time. There will be no more.”

“Then you can turn your little yakuza behind around, fix my doorknob, grab your plum beer, and then fly right back to Tokyo.” My finger shook a little. I was steadily losing my control. This was an odd position for me to stand in. I didn’t fight for love. I fought against it. I never demanded to work on something with another. I usually just ran away. “It was hard enough this week, being away from you,” I said. “If you can’t even give me a chance, then leave.”

And to prove my point, I waited two minutes in silence for him to step out of that door. Oh, the things that ran through my mind—so many scenarios that rattled my spine and freaked me out. Would I run after him? Maybe. Most likely. Would I beg him to give me a chance or just let me help him get better? That was a big possibility.

Jesus. This is why I hate romances. Two fools in love, stumbling over absurdity after absurdity.

“I think I love you,” I whispered. “Or at least, I think I’m falling in love with you.”

He looked away. His forehead wrinkled and I wasn’t sure if it was fear, sadness, or concern that glazed across his face.

“At the bare minimum, I’m severely infatuated.” I formed my hands into fists. “I found out that your father died. I’m sorry for your loss.”

He snapped his attention back to me. “I didn’t lose anything.”

Alrighty. The possibility of Kenji having something to do with his father’s death is high. How do I feel about that? Umm
…
maybe I should just focus on not pissing myself.

“I-I was going to fly back to Tokyo, buy you some white chrysanthemums, and take them to you,” I confessed.

A tear streamed down from under his glasses and made a wet line to his mouth. “Why?”

“Because you weren’t writing in your red journal.”

He parted his lips in shock. “How did you know that?”

“There’s a picture of you sitting in the park with the journal on a bench. As long as I’ve known you, well, not like it’s been years or anything, but every time I’ve seen you around that haiku book of yours, that freaking journal has been in your hands and open. You didn’t always write in it. Sometimes you just stared at the papers, but there was always some sort of interaction.” I swallowed down my fear. “A writer that doesn’t write dies slowly inside.”

“I killed him.”

There was no need to ask who. His father’s picture flashed in my mind.

“I killed him because he said he would hurt you.” He sighed. “No, that wasn’t the only reason.”

I inched forward. “It doesn’t matter.”

Yes, it does. No, it doesn’t. Oh God. I’m just as crazy as him. Stop arguing with yourself!

Tears fell from the corners of his eyes, and he didn’t wipe them away. Instead, he cleared his throat. “Take off your robe, please.”

“Back to that again? Well, at least you added a please.” I loosened my belt, but didn’t pull it apart. “Take off your shirt and those pants.”

He raised the right side of his lip into a sneer. “No.”

“You’ll do it or I’ll claw the crap out of you. That’s what tigers do, you know.”

He exhaled a long breath. “You’re not a tiger.”

“And you’re not a dragon.”

“You don’t know what I am.” He lowered his face toward the floor.

“Well, we have a whole lifetime to learn.” I closed the distance between us.

Did I say lifetime? Fuck, what am I getting into? Maybe I should have said days or weeks. Shut up and kiss him.

And I did.

I got on the tips of my toes and captured those soft lips. The salty taste of his tears stung my tongue. I consumed him even more, breathing him in and trying my best to show him that, on this side of the planet, someone existed that could love him more than he’d ever loved himself.

I sucked his bottom lip, released his mouth, and began to unbutton his shirt. “If you want this pussy, then you’ll have to take the annoying woman that owns it.” With each button that slipped away, his shirt opened and exposed an amazing amount of inked skin. I gulped in my fear and continued to undress him. “She’s a bit childish at times, and reckless, but I swear, if you give her ice cream, she’ll give you the best blow job in the state of New York.”

He wiped away his tears with the back of his shirtsleeve and then he let me pull it completely off. His body shivered as the fabric slipped away from his skin.

And what a glorious work of art he was—a flame-roaring dragon covered his chest, all golden scales and shiny turquoise eyes. It painted his entire upper body, besides the strip of uninked flesh that sat in the middle, which Kenji had explained allowed the skin to breathe. Pink cherry blossoms dotted the tattooed sleeves on both shoulders.

“Why cherry blossoms?” I asked.

“They represent life and how temporary it is. For the yakuza, it’s a sign of how short our lives are compared to others who don’t walk our path.”

“Well, I say consider covering those blossoms with roses, because I plan to aggravate you until we’re in our hundreds. We’re not going to have a short life.”

He formed his lips into a smile. “Do you understand what you’re doing to me?”

“I’m loving you.”

“No, you’re giving yourself to me in every way. With you and I, there will be no in-between possibilities.”

“Are you saying I can’t date other guys?” I joked.

Smirking, he ripped off my robe. “Due to that question, I’m not sure you understand the severity of what you’re walking into.”

“For as long as you’ve known me, have you ever seen me as a rational person? I tend to wing it a lot.”

“It would be dangerous to wing it with me.”

“I think that’s why I’m falling for you. I have a thing for bad boys.” I bit my lip. “My dad was one, and … he was the first man that taught me love, but … I think that you’re here to teach me more.”

The robe left my body and dropped to the floor. Drinking every inch in, he tore through his pants, probably actually ripping them as he rushed to unzip them and wrench them away. More dragons wound around his legs, horrendous beasts that glittered over huge, muscular thighs.

Damn. I knew he had a nice body from the Calvin Klein ads, but
…
I seem to have won the hottie lottery.

The area between my thighs transformed to hungry in seconds. I dripped for him—this man that took away the blinders of depression from my eyes and forced me to see that love existed in the most unusual places.

“Take off those boxer briefs,” I hissed.

“You’re not following Brooklyn tradition.”

I drooled over that big length growing under the black material. “Trust me. When a Brooklyn chick sees something this tasty, this is what she does. Now take them off before I do it.”

And he did, he yanked them down and stepped out of them. His cock, thick and long, targeted me. I craved to have it in my mouth, sucking on the tip until he exploded all on my tongue. He moaned and I hoped to get his mind off it all with my body, all day and night.

So we fucked right there,

in my kitchen,

on the counter,

against the fridge,

on the edge of my couch,

right against my door, the poor wood banging hard against its frame as he bellowed in pleasure and I dug my nails into his skin.

We fucked,

so hard

my body

spasmed

into waves of shock that could not be attended to by any doctor.

He lapped at my pussy—him on his knees in front of the Muhammad Ali picture, my legs on his shoulders, my hands holding my balance against the wall, my groin humping his soft mouth and rubbing my clit against his sexy nose.

Days passed.

We wore no clothes.

People called.

Pizza and beer were delivered,

and we fucked some more

until rainy days shifted into ones that exploded in sunshine,

and

the nightmares of dead bodies clawing at his skin,

that woke him up in the middle of the night,

shifted to

warmer memories of his mother holding him,

and

transformed to

pleasant dreams of a tiger

who once was lost

and

wet

and so distraught,

that

finally, when she stumbled into the right cave,

where the dragon was waiting,

they made that dark, rocky place their home.

Epilogue

KENJI

Tora slept. Moonlight traveled through her open window and glowed along the outline of her body.
What a beautiful night.
Stars glittered in the sky. The moon beamed above, blanketing the buildings in magical light. Wind pushed her white sheer curtains open and then pulled them back. Cars honked and engines zoomed as Brooklyn came alive that evening.

I breathed this city in and smiled.

I wish I could stay here forever.

I was afraid to check my calendar. So many days had passed. Weeks, probably. She tried to get me out of her apartment, to show me her home, but I just wanted to lie next to her, inhale her scent, and taste that soft flesh.

We’ll have to leave eventually. We’ll have to go back home. Will she come?

There’d been some conversation about it. She was much more open to having me get her an apartment in Tokyo, but she didn’t want to end her apartment lease in New York.

You’re keeping it because you’re not sure. You’re being safe. I get it. But
…
there is no playing it safe with me. You come to Tokyo. You never leave.

I slipped the sheet further away from her body, exposing the curve of her hips, softness of those thighs, and lush bottom that I could never stop grabbing with my hands. There couldn’t be an in-between with us. She expected a courtship—dates and us getting to know each other with the hopes of seeing if we could work.

We’ll work because there’s no other option, Tora.

She groaned as I slid my fingers along her back.

“Are you awake, Tora?”

She kept her back to me. “Will you ever call me by my name?”

“Are you awake, Nyomi?”

“Yes, Dragon.”

“Really?”

She rolled over to her back and laughed. “What are you thinking about?”

“That we’ll have to leave soon.”

She tensed under my fingers. “We should probably discuss this more. I’m going to be editing the book, so staying in Tokyo is fine because I’ll just need access to a computer and internet. However, once the editing process is done, I’ll be back to writing articles and looking for any other freelance writing job I can find.”

“What does that mean as far as us?”

“It will take me out of Tokyo.”

“Forever?”

She laughed again. “No, not forever. You’re being super serious right now.”

I forced a smile. “This is super serious. Tora, I gave you a chance to leave. I let you walk away. You’re younger than me so I will give you another chance.”

“I’m not that young.”

“Tora,” I sighed. “If you come to Tokyo, then you’re mine. We’re together. This life here in your amazing city, it’s over. You stay—”

“Kenji, stop.” She sat up and waved her hand. “This is what I mean by going too far. No, I’m not property. I’ll go to Tokyo while I edit the book. After that is done, I’ll get another job or maybe work on another book. However, let’s make this clear, just because you’re the lucky man that gets to make love to me and spoil the hell out of me—”

“Spoil?” I shook my head.

“Yes, spoil.” She stuck out her tongue. “It doesn’t mean you own me. Can we make that clear?”

“Yes, but—”

“No, there are no buts.”

“There can be some gray areas,” I argued.

“No, Kenji. There are no gray areas. I’m a free human being. You don’t get to trap me.” She hit her chest with a closed fist. “I’m a motherfucking tiger.”

I buried my head into my hands. “Oh no. What have I started?”

She climbed out of bed. “I’m a tiger. That’s right. We prowl and … roar.”

“You’re no longer a tiger, Nyomi.” I glanced over my shoulder to catch her clawing at the air in front of her. “You’re a beautiful woman, my love.”

“And a tiger.”

“You’re still mine.”

“And you’re mine.” She frowned and directed her view to the ground. “And what about the rope? I-I don’t know if I could ever explore anything like that.”

“I’m not sure I need that in my life.”

“You’re not sure?”

“No, but for now … ” I stood up and captured her in my arms. “In these moments that I’ve been with you, all I can think about is us. Nothing else comes to my mind. Not your streets or mine, nor our fathers or the pain we’ve survived. There’s so much more than the pleasure of sex from the risk of death.”

“Then you should be sure.”

“I’m not, and I have to be truthful with you. I may want you to wrap that rope around my neck one day or a year far out in the future.” I held her closer to me. “But, I would be disappointed. It would be … ” I blew out a long breath. “Nyomi, my love, my everything, I just want to live. For the first time in my life, I just want to live. I don’t think I would risk it for sex, not when making love to you already is more than I can handle.”