Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 66993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
He stepped away and motioned to the two gifts, “why did you bring them for me?”
“You sent me gifts. I should bring you gifts too. I was told that was the custom and a way to be. . .respectful and appreciative.”
“I’m excited to see what you brought me.”
“Good, I just hope you like them.”
“I will. I like gifts but I love intentions more,” he deeply inhaled me. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll eat and enjoy a. . . special performance.”
I put my view on the stage. “Why is that hook there?”
“Oh, you saw that?”
“It was hard to miss.”
“Most would miss it.”
“Hooks freak me out,” I returned my gaze to him. “Why is it there?”
“You’ll see later.”
“During the performance?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “And then maybe after we eat. . .we’ll perform too. . .”
What does that mean?
He stepped back, breaking the tension just enough for me to breathe again.
Barely.
Then, with the smoothness of ritual, he pulled out my chair. “Come. Let’s enjoy ourselves this evening.”
I glanced one last time at the hook above the stage, tried to guess what it was for, and then I sat down.
Here we go, a date with the Dragon.
Chapter fourteen
Skin, Wood, and Memory
Kenji
When I first entered the garden and spotted Nyomi, I lingered in the shadows.
It was uncharacteristic of me—this hesitation. But the moment I saw her, my breath stilled, and for once in my life, I let it.
She stood at the center of the garden like she had bloomed there. Her dark brown skin glowed under the moonlight. And that dress—white, strapless, clinging—was blasphemy on a curvy body like hers.
The contrast was divine.
Innocence in color.
Sin in shape.
The way her hips curved told me that the universe had made them for only me.
One would have thought that I would have walked forward then, but I couldn’t.
I was a predator trying not to pounce.
Instead, my eyes traveled to the slope of her shoulders, the swell of her breasts, and then—finally, mercifully—her legs.
Last night, she’d worn jeans in my office so I’d been forced to imagine the sexy possibilities.
But tonight, she gave me a vision I could not unsee.
Those legs will be the death of me.
They were made to be wrapped around my waist.
Made to shudder in surrender as I thrust my cock into her.
I wanted them hooked behind my neck, heels digging into my spine when I claimed every inch of her.
She didn’t know it yet… that and more was written in her future.
I should’ve walked to her then.
Still. . .I waited.
Studied her.
Tried to cage the feral thing inside me that whispered…This one isn’t your usual fling. This one is prophecy.
Because something was happening to me.
Something I didn’t trust.
Love?
The word fluttered to the surface like an ember carried on the wind. Though, I didn’t know if it was possible to fall this fast.
To look at a woman and know; She’ll either save me or burn me to ash.
Maybe that’s what love was.
Not slow.
Not safe.
Something that scorched you alive instead and you said thank you for the privilege.
I stepped forward at last, the moment her eyes found mine, I knew I’d never recover. She smiled—nervous, cautious—but it didn’t dim her beauty.
It sharpened it.
She rose from her chair, I almost lowered to my knees.
It was a ridiculous impulse.
A man like me didn’t kneel.
Not for gods.
Not for kings.
But for her?
I would kneel in worship and in ruin.
Because the moment she rose, the night itself responded. The wind shifted. The blossoms trembled. Even the moon tilted forward, greedy to see her better.
She didn't know what she'd done—simply standing, brushing her hands along the silk of her dress—but my cock twitched with want so sharp it bordered on pain.
I clenched my jaw. Tried to think of numbers, war strategies, men I’d buried.
Nothing worked.
All I could think of was how easily she could unmake me.
And the worst part?
I wanted it.
There was something dangerous about a woman who didn’t even realize the power she held. Nyomi wasn’t playing coy. She wasn’t baiting me. She was just. . . existing.
And her existence?
It destroyed me.
Because. . .I would bleed to be the thing she wore.
And now. . .I took the seat across from her. The table between us was small and intimate. The waitress returned and poured me sake.
The scent hit me first— dry and elegant, but Nyomi smelled even better.
Black amber and ripe plum.
It saturated the air between us.
She didn’t even know she was haunting me.
I leaned forward. “Can I order for you?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
I turned to the waitress and spoke in Japanese. “Bring us everything on the tasting menu. The best dishes. All reserved ingredients. Make sure it’s an exceptional presentation. If the chef, the rest of the staff, and you help me impress this beautiful woman tonight, all of your bank accounts will reflect it by morning.”
The waitress’s eyes widened with excitement. She bowed and hurried off.