Akira Tong for Christmas (8 page)

Read Akira Tong for Christmas Online

Authors: Azure Boone

Tags: #multicultural, #Contemporary, #erotic romance, #BDSM

BOOK: Akira Tong for Christmas
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“Eh, he’s a show-off,” Akira muttered, watching.

I laughed. “You’re just jealous.”

“Maybe.” He gave me one of those half grins that revealed a side of him he kept well hidden.

“God, you are so gorgeous.” I laughed and covered my mouth. “Sorry. I can’t help it. Women must bang your door down in Japan, right?” I was dead serious.

He rolled his eyes, but more like,
You have no idea.

“You don’t like all the attention?” I didn’t get that part.

“No. I hate it, actually. Everybody thinks I’m Mr. Japan and I can have any woman I want.”

“Well, you can. It’s true.” My breaths came in puffs of vapor as I got more comfortable on the blades.

“But they think I
have
had every woman.”

I sucked in my breath. “Oh. I didn’t consider that. They all think you’re a slut. When really you’re just an innocent virgin?” I teased, skating up to him and holding his arm.

I’d have sworn he blushed. “Yes, something like that.”

“I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to have people think bad things of you and there’s nothing you can do to fix it. It sucks donkey balls.”

He busted out laughing. “Donkey balls?” His face screwed up. “That’s disgusting.”

“Sorry, you’re seeing my raw side. I’m really no proper lady, I’m afraid.”

“It happens to be one of the things I like about you.”

My heart skipped a beat. He liked me. “Really?”

He lowered his head and shook it, then angled a grin at me. “I like that you’re not afraid to be yourself. That’s admirable. And brave.”

Huh. “I never thought of it like that. I don’t know how to be any other way. Pretending to be a proper lady is, phew.” Torture was what it was. “A lot of work for me.”

“You’re doing fine.”

“I am?”

He chuckled and narrowed his gaze. “You have no self-confidence, though.”

“This is so true.”

“And you know your weaknesses. That’s a strength.”

Point for point. “I’m just an all-around superwoman.”

“Yes, you are.”

God, he really meant that. I heard it right there in his tone—he really meant it. “I don’t know where you’re seeing all this, but…I’m glad you see it.” So hard to hide that thrill. “I am getting awesome at this skating, though. Wow, I’m really doing it.”

Like a blur, the superfast dude came flying out of nowhere.

“Sarah!” Akira yelled.

Too late. Mr. Olympics plowed dead into me. I was airborne one second, then staring into the gray sky the next, unable to breathe with pain shooting through my head and ass. Akira’s face was above me.

The man was even cute terrified. For me. I caught my breath. “I’m okay,” I groaned.

He snapped his head up. “You stupid son of a bitch! You busted her nose. I’m going to kill you if it’s broken.”

He cared that much?

“I’m so sorry.” The guy gasped.

Poor guy. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

Akira carefully lifted me. “I got you. Try not to move too much,” he said. “God, so much blood.” He took off his scarf and held it to my nose, tilting my head down and pinching the bridge. He pulled me close and supported the side of my body with his. “Stay like that for a second until it stops. Do you hurt anywhere?”

I focused on my body parts. “My butt…for sure.”

“I’m surprised your spine didn’t shatter. The bastard plowed into you going fifty miles an hour,” he growled.

I laughed. “Yeah, I know. I was a bird there for a second, flying. Guess that means you can’t give me my surprise?”

His chin touched my temple. “I need to get you to a hospital and make sure nothing’s broken.” Hospital? Images of them somehow finding out my identity panicked me. “No, no, please don’t. Just take me to the room. I’ll check me. Please don’t make me go to the hospital. I beg you.” He sighed. “Maybe a hot soak will do you good. We’ll order in, and I’ll make it up to you.”

“It’s not your fault, but yes, I love the idea of being…at the suite.”
With you. Alone.

Chapter Seven

“Ohh, my ass!” I limped through the doorway as Akira finished a phone call in the hallway. It hurt worse than ever now. A minute later he came in with the most horrible look.

“What’s wrong? Is your family okay?” I asked.

He stared at me for several seconds, not seeing, peering at whatever had him in shock, it seemed.

His brows furrowed a little, and he snapped himself out of what was obviously so wrong.

“A hot soak will help that. Here, sit carefully.”

“Oh, I am.”

He disappeared and returned in a few minutes with some pills and water. I took them without even asking what they were. Which was odd because I was paranoid when it came to medication. He turned and poured me a little wine.

“You trying to get me drunk?”

“No,” he mumbled, handing me the glass. “Trying to kill your pain. No driving for you, that’s for sure. A little wine with this painkiller won’t hurt you.”

“Okay.” What was wrong with him? He sounded terrible.

He knelt before me and stared, appearing guilty and helpless. “Very sorry, Sarah.” Sorry for what exactly? “It’s not your fault. You can just buy me supper. I’m starving.”

“I’ll order as soon as you’re in the tub. Okay, let’s go.”

“Oh!” I latched on to his neck as he picked me up like a baby. “Or you can carry me. That works.

Mmm, God, you smell so good.” He angled me through the bathroom door. “You really do know how to drive a woman crazy.”

Then he just stood by the tub with me, holding me. My breath froze when I met his gaze head-on.

What had I done wrong? “What?” I whispered.

He rolled his eyes and stood me up. “Nothing.”

“Fine. You stink, and I hate you. There, is that better? Jeez.”

“Can you get undressed?”

I thought a moment, pursing my lips. “Not really sure.” I pulled my arms out of my sleeves while Akira averted his gaze to the floor. I managed to get the sweater over my head. “So far, so good. The pants may be another issue.”

The second I began working them over my hips, a slight pain shot through my tailbone. I held my breath, and his gaze snapped up. And riveted on my breasts.

Oh God, did he like what he saw? I’d worn the red-lace bra—nearly sheer—with matching panties. I swallowed, not moving, knowing he could see my large nipples. My sister spent several years assuring me guys loved my kind of nipples. Plump and juicy was what they called them. If she wasn’t lying.

He dropped to his knees and helped me work the pants down. I winced a little when he lifted my legs out of them. The medicine and wine had kicked in—I could tell—but the fear of pain had me tense.

He looked up at me, the concern on his face soon melting with…oh yes, desire. His gaze raked over me, stopping at my red panties. He latched his fingers on to the sides and began to lower them. I watched his expression. His lips were parted, and his eyes were closed. My God, how sweet. Such discipline and respect.

In that instant I realized I didn’t just want him—I needed him. Needed him to be mine. My heart raced. I didn’t just want to have sex with him. I wanted to be with him, hold him, comfort him, make him smile and laugh.

The man clearly had some amazing scruples he didn’t want to violate. Was it that other woman? I didn’t want him to do anything that would bring him guilt. “There’s a towel behind you.” He quickly handed it to me without peeking. I wrapped up in it. “I’m decent.” He let out a breath of relief. Disappointment crashed through me. “I can do this. You are obviously not comfortable with it.” I swooned a little, and he caught me with his chest.

“Maybe a bath isn’t such a good idea,” he murmured.

“Lay with me? I’m tired.”

He lifted me in his arms, and I laid my head on his shoulder. I wished I could stay there, just like that. He set me on the bed and pulled the covers down, then lifted me again and placed me exactly in the middle.

I raised an arm toward him. He lay next to me, but I needed his naked torso. I pulled up the hem of his shirt, signaling to him I wanted it off.

“I can’t.”

I froze. “Why?”

“Because…I can’t control myself with you.”

I shook my head. “So don’t.”

He got up on an elbow and looked down at me. He slid his finger along my face, making my heart ache with need. And then, right in the middle of his contemplation, I saw him make the decision. His fingers gently captured my jaw, and he leaned in. His breath warmed my mouth as he lingered inches away. He had to be the one to do this. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

He jerked away and sat on the edge of the bed with his back to me.

Pain stabbed my heart like an electric cattle prod. I shot out of the bed and cried out, forgetting my injury. He spun around and hurried to help me. “Get. Away. From me.” I could hardly believe how much his rejection hurt.

“Sarah.”

I growled my way to my feet. He stood before me and held my shoulders. “You don’t get it.”

“I get it. I fucking get it, okay? You don’t want me. You’ve been trying to tell me this—” A sob cut off my words.

He pulled me to him, and his lips were on mine.

I broke away. “No! I don’t want your fucking pity, you bastard. Don’t put your lips on me. Don’t fucking put your lips on me,” I screamed at him.

He captured my face and held tight. “My father…wants me to marry. For money. I don’t even like her. It wasn’t enough that I give up my life for him. Now I have to give up my heart.” I froze. “You’re…engaged?”

He stood silent for several seconds. “It seems that way.”

I shook my head. “When…when did you find this out?”

“Just now—on the phone when we got here.”

“Is it that girl you told me about? The beautiful one? The one too good for you?” God, I hoped not. I hated her without even knowing her.

He stroked my cheek with his thumb, his brows furrowed with agony. His head barely shook.

“Who is she? This woman that you love so much?” I couldn’t help it. I cared less about the woman he was supposed to marry.

His mouth crashed on mine, and his hand fisted in my hair. I opened to his urgent demand and let his tongue inside, let it stroke mine. “It’s you, Sarah. You’re the girl.” He breathed the words right into my mouth.

I think my heart stopped. Then nearly leaped from my chest when his fingers fought with the sheer fabric over my breasts. He growled. “Take it off. I need to see you.” Oh my God in heaven. He needed to see me? My fingers trembled as I unclasped the bra at the front and slid out of it. It was me? He loved me?

He gasped, running his hands over my arms while his brooding gaze drank in my breasts with so much hunger. He swallowed like a man preparing to act, deciding what to do first.

“I need to see you too.” The words rasped with desire and snapped him out of his drunken stare.

He locked his eyes on mine and ripped his shirt off. I bit my lower lip as he got out of his jeans next with such perfect grace. He stood in tight boxer briefs black as his hair. His hands moved to the waistband of his boxers and paused. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I whimpered. “I’ve never wanted anybody more. Ever.” I met his tender gaze, wanting him to believe he was my first. “I know it seems like I’m…some kind of slut, but…I promise…” In two steps his body crushed against mine, hard hands roaming, his tongue in my mouth, seeking, demanding. His erection pressed to my stomach and caused an explosion of fire along my nerves.

“I know you’re a virgin.” He breathed right in my mouth before pulling my head back by my hair and sucking the skin on my neck. The throbbing between my legs was unbearable. My hands were in heaven, buried in his silky hair. I moved them over his shoulders, down his muscle-laden arms, his sides, my fingers firm, loving every delicious contour, strength wrapped in satin. His hands slid over my sides, and he was there at my sex, fingers gliding over the hair. I moaned, clutching his shoulders as his lips kissed their way back to mine. Then he paused, staring into my eyes as his finger stroked between my wet folds oh so softly.

“Akira,” I moaned.

“I can’t wait to taste you.”

Taste me? Oh my God. I could only pant, my legs weak under his slow strokes over the ache between my thighs. “Oh God, yes!”

His finger found my clit and circled it. He released a long hiss. “I’m going to make you come so hard.” The promise was severe.

I gasped weakly.

“Lay down. First on your back.”

First? I moved to comply and winced.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “I forgot you’re hurt. Damn, I’m stupid.” He helped me make my way to the bed and gently laid me down.

“It’s not that bad, really. Just keeps reminding me to go slow.” He carefully spread my legs wide. “Tell me if it hurts.” He eased my knees toward me.

Fortunately it didn’t, but even if it had, I sure as hell wasn’t saying. Not when he seemed prepared to kiss it all better. “I see…you have a lot of experience.” I panted.

His gaze met mine. “Only with books. And movies.” He swept his tongue over his lower lip while he glided a finger over my silky heat. “Not…with a real woman.” What was he saying?

His strong face hardened with his restraint. To go slow. To be gentle. God, he was amazing. A real man. I squirmed with his sensual touch, begging him for more. The torment in his eyes reflected his need to drive in, give himself all at once. His body trembled and those stealthy fingers made me hotter than seemed humanly possible.

He knelt there, between my legs, and I watched. Watched how he looked touching me that way.

Touching me. Watched the rapture on his face, watched the desire steal into the tip of his tongue as it licked over his lower lip, slow and sensual, just like his finger that left no spot untouched.

I strained my legs wider and cried out, the heat demanding more. He released a harsh breath before moving until his lean body hovered over me, several of his fingers dancing over my throbbing heat. Then he kissed me with agonizing tenderness, first on my forehead and then along my nose. When he made it to my lips, he toyed with them, nipping and licking.

Letting him have his sweet way was difficult. I wanted to demand he answer the passion rushing over me. This was his big show. I wanted him to do it just the way he’d hopefully fantasized. I clenched my fists next to my head, receiving his every lick and nip, thrusting for his teasing fingers that swirled in maddening patterns over my clit. But there was no stopping my whimpered moans that grew with each second, no denying the fire building. And that pushed him to the edge. It was there in his harsh breaths, and my body screamed with the need to give him pleasure the same way.
My turn, my turn
, it cried.

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