Sweet Seduction Sayonara (9 page)

Because what has she gotten herself into? What has she done to piss these guys off? And why isn’t Koki helping her? Sure, he disappeared the van and the thugs, but from what I saw, he simply told her to go home to daddy.

But Momoko Tanaka is not one to blithely follow instructions. How can she be when she’s sitting on my front doorstep, waiting for me to come home.

It’s the middle of the day, so how she knows I’d be pulling into my drive right now, I don’t know. Nor do I care. I slip out of the car, leaving it out of the garage and walk the short distance to where she’s now standing.

The minute I get there, I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and pull her hard against my chest and kiss her.

She doesn’t say no.

Instead she clings to me and kisses me back just as desperately. Just as passionately. Just as enthusiastically. I kiss her with frustration and lust and worry and a little anger. I kiss her for so long that we pull apart gasping for air.

“Are you OK?” we both say at exactly the same time as each other.

She nods. I make a grunting sound. And then my hand slips into hers and I’m opening the front door and dragging her inside.

Thank fuck Eric hasn’t arrived yet.

Our clothes are off before I even think to check the lock on the door. A condom on and her legs wrapped around my hips by the time the deadbolt has been reset. And then it’s just a frenzy of bumping and grinding and thrusting and rocking and moans and gasps and her screaming my name as she comes and me fucking losing it as I climax, the door rattling against its hinges as I slow my thrusts down and come back to the room at last.

“Momo,” I say, my forehead resting against hers.

“Where’s your bedroom?” she asks. And I’m off down the hallway, bursting into the master room, and following her down onto the crisp, thank-fuck-clean bedsheets.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I say, even as I start to replace the used condom with a new one.

“Screw the rules,” she counters trying to help me.

I burst out laughing as our hands get tangled and she swears something surprisingly long in Japanese and then I’m slipping inside her again. Finding heaven.

I take it more slowly this time. I follow her signals, the map she gives me with her sighs and moans and trembling. I don’t fuck her. I make love to her. And I’m not sure why, but I do know that I can’t walk away from this woman. From this mess that she’s in. From the danger she represents.

I can’t walk away. I won't.

Breathless, sweating, bones loose with euphoria, I carry her into the bathroom and under the spray of the shower, feeling like a giant. Feeling like Adonis with his Aphrodite. Paris with Helen. Orpheus with Eurydice. Hell, I could list a thousand names and none of them would compare.

Momo watches me from under long lashes as I wash her down so carefully, taking care of her, loving her with such a simple action. She tips her head back, allowing me to wash the soap from her hair. She doesn’t say no when I kiss her almost too deeply.

I’m hard again - I can’t get enough of her - and her little hand wraps around my dick and strokes eagerly. That feeling of being a giant rushes through me again. But I finish washing her and then wrap her in a towel and take her to bed. We lie there on our sides, staring at each other, cataloguing every nuance, every feature, every
thing.
She traces her finger over my jaw, runs her hand through my short hair, kisses down the side of my neck and nibbles on my ear.

I want her.

I want her to stay.

“Tell me what’s going on,” I whisper instead. She buries her face in the curve of my neck and remains silent. I run my hand down her spine, feeling a tumult of emotions. Elation that she’s here in my bed. Satisfaction that she came to me. Fear that I’m just a distraction. “Momoko,” I say. “What’s going on?”

She doesn’t pretend to not understand when she pulls away. She offers a shrug, and moves to leave the bed. I pull her back, slip her smaller form under my body, and pin her with my chest and a hard stare.

“Why are the Triads after you?”

“It’s better that you don’t get involved.”

“I’m already involved.”

“I don’t want you to be.” She means it. My heart breaks. I drop my forehead onto hers and just breathe.

Her hand comes up and cups my cheek.

“My father,” she says and licks her lips as though nervous. This woman who fought so courageously. Who meets me desire for desire in bed. This woman who seems bigger than life, brighter than the sun, more capable than anyone I’ve ever met. This woman is afraid of something.

“Tell me,” I urge, stroking my hand over her silky locks.

“He is traditional, Finn,” she says. And I love hearing my name on her lips, but this is making me anxious. I know I’m not what her father would want for her. But I can’t let her go now. I’m lost. “He was highly respected in Japan,” she says. “A big man. Tanaka-sama. Very powerful. But he chose to walk away from it all. To start again.”

“Here in New Zealand,” I say, because she’s stopped talking again.

She nods her head and I feel her fingernails bite into my shoulders. I wince, but don’t stop her. If she needs to grip me so tightly to get through this, I’ll gladly wear the scars afterwards.

“My life,” she says, almost a whisper, “is not my own. It never was. For a while, I thought I could escape it. For a while, he let me. But duty is as important as success. Failure dishonourable. He will not fail in his duty. And his duty…”

She can’t say the rest.

I’m at a loss, because I have no idea what she’s trying to tell me. I’m only vaguely aware of Japanese culture and the strict parameters of their family law. It’s not a subject I specialised in, but now I’m wishing I’d studied more international law in university. Because I’ve got a feeling this is going to be binding. Whatever it is she’s about to say. I think it might be their version of the law.

I brush my lips against her forehead, close my eyes and just breathe in her scent, revel in the touch of her skin beneath my fingers, then I say, “Tell me, Momoko-san.”

It unlocks something inside her and she lets out a little sob.

“I am promised,” she says. “A debt my father must pay.”

“What?” I can’t voice more than that.

“
Omiai
,” she whispers, but I don’t know this word. “My father has promised me to another,” she adds, and my heart makes a pathetic attempt to beat out of my chest. This is not the explanation I was looking for. It’s worse. Far worse than anything to do with the Triads.

“Promised you?” I rasp and she finally lifts her moist eyes to look at my face.

I see so much pain there. I see her letting me go even before we belong to each other.

And then she confirms it.

“I must marry Tadashi in two weeks.”

H
e looks like shit
. I’ve never seen Finn look anythin’ other than put together. He’s smooth, smart and seriously good at what he does. But when he turns up at our house for an impromptu barbecue, it looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

“I brought the beer,” he offers, slappin’ a dozen down on the table.

“Fuck, my man,” I drawl from over by the barbecue, “it’s a Tuesday night and we’ve gotta talk business. You lookin’ to get shitfaced?”

“Maybe,” he mutters, runnin’ a hand through short, blond, spiky hair that hasn’t seen a comb in, like, forever. I scowl across the deck at him as he puts down a folder on the table with a little more care. That’ll be the contract. But I don’t think he wants to talk about Abs and my latest house purchase.

“What’s happenin’?” I ask, turnin’ the sausages over on the grill.

“Busy,” he says, simply, pullin’ a chilled bottle out of the box and twistin’ the lid. He hands one to me and then gets himself another. He’s swallowed half of it before I can think of a way to get the fuckin’ idiot to speak.

“Just busy?” I press, pretendin’ to be absorbed with the fuckin’ gunk on the plate of the barbie.

“Has Nick been talking to you?” he suddenly demands, and whoa fuck, back up the dump truck.

“No, shithead. You look like crap and I’m concerned.”

He has the courtesy to look chagrinned. I flip a steak a bit too firmly.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“You know,” I say, switchin’ the gas down low and movin’ to a chair at the table. “You seemed a bit distracted on Friday. Everythin’ OK, e hoa?”

“Shit,” he says, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I completely forgot. What a chump. Congratulations!” he adds, thumping me on the shoulder. A little of the old Finn stares back at me.

I grunt in acceptance and look toward the window of the kitchen to where Abi should be any second. If she’s had a chance to recover from our latest session, that is. I smile to myself, rememberin' her soft curves and smooth skin and fuckin’ loud scream as I made her come all over my face as soon as we got home this evening. My cock jerks in anticipation for round two. I’ve got some strawberry flavoured condoms in the drawer beside our bed; Red’s favourite.

My gaze comes back to Finn and he’s lookin’ at me as if he knows what filthy thoughts I’ve just been havin’. Fuck him. He hasn’t got an Abi.

And then my scowl deepens.

“You got woman problems, my man?” I say, takin’ a swig from my beer bottle.

He doesn’t say anythin’ straight away, which is unusual. Finn Drake normally has a smooth line prepared for every situation. Don’t let that surfer dude look fool you, he’s sharp as a tack and equally slick with it.

That’s why I like him. He hides like I do, he just doesn’t use shadows.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he says, takin’ a big pull on his Heinie.

I open my mouth to push him, he looks like a man who could use some serious pushin’, but Abi walks out with the salad in one arm and the plates and utensils balanced in the other. I’m out of the seat and grabbin’ her load before she’s made it even a metre.

“I’ll take those, Red,” I say. “You sit down and take a load off.”

“I’m pregnant, not incapable,” she says with a smile to soften the blow. I grunt, and drop the things on the table not carrin’ where they go.

“Hey, Finn,” she says, acceptin’ a kiss on the cheek from Drake. “How are you?”

“Not as good as you look, Abi,” he says with complete sincerity. “Really, you look fantastic.”

“Yeah, she does,” I say, wrappin’ an arm around her shoulders. I kiss the top of her head and inhale her shampoo. Fuckin’ love that stuff.

“Is that the contract?” Abi asks, pattin’ me on the chest as if to placate me. I grunt and turn back to the barbie. Nothin’ will placate me except my woman’s lips wrapped around my cock and the scent of strawberries on the air in our bedroom.

“Yeah,” Finn says. “Sign on the dotted line and it’s all yours.”

Abs claps her hands excitedly. “Dad is going to love that place. And think, Ben, he’ll be close for the baby.”

I grunt again and spear a sausage with the fork.

“He’s not so sure about having my father living so close,” Abi mock whispers to Finn.

“You’re dad won’t interfere, will he?” he asks.

“Of course not. Besides, it’s me that’s pushed for this.”

And pushed and pushed and pushed.

“We have so many years to make up for,” she says and her voice cracks.

I spin back from the barbie and throw Finn a dirty scowl, before placin’ a hand on the back of Abi’s neck. “Sign the papers, Red,” I say. “Make it official.”

“You sure?”

“Sure as shit. Sign ‘em.”

Finn pulls out a pen and opens the contract to the right place, then talks Abs through the process. It’s the first time she’ll have owned a property in her own name. The first time she’s had enough money to do it. It’ll be in a trust, though, that’s why we needed Finn.

I look down at my woman and feel my lips spread into a smile. She’s so fuckin’ excited. Finn’s awesome. He’s eggin’ her on, bolsterin’ her up, makin’ her feel like a million bucks. He’s a good man.

The beer flows - lemonade for Abi - the steak tastes fuckin’ fantatsic, if I do say so myself, and before we know it, Finn’s on his way, walkin’ back down the driveway, that contract slung under his arm ready for filing.

And it’s only then I realise, I didn’t get to help him. Somethin’s up with Finn. And I’m not sure if anyone else knows about it. I scowl after his decreasing shadow in the darkness and feel Red slip in under my arm.

“What’s wrong?” she says, way too fuckin’ in tune with my feelings.

“Don’t know,” I reply. “But somethin’ ain’t right with Finn.”

“You noticed too, huh?” she says softly.

I turn and look down at her. It never ceases to amaze me how astute my woman is. I cup my hands around her neck, stroke my fingers over her cheeks, and thank all that is good and holy in this world that she found me. Saved me. Pulled me from the shadows and stands beside me every single day, face tilted towards the sun.

“I need you,” I say.

“I’m here,” she offers.

I just stare at her, marvellin’ all over again.

“I’m takin’ you to bed, Red,” I say.

Her eyelashes lower and she gets this fuckin’ sexy look on her face.

“I want your lips wrapped around my cock,” I add.

She licks them.

“Gonna fuck that beautiful mouth until I come,” I say, sweepin’ my thumb across her lower lip.

“Then what are you waiting for, big guy?” she says, pushing away and givin’ me a look over her shoulder that promises good things to come.

I trail after her, switchin’ off the lights, lockin’ the doors, and checkin’ the windows. She’s got the iPod on when I walk in the room. Guns ’N Roses. Sweet Child O’ Mine.

Fuck, I love this woman.

She strips slowly, drawin’ it out, makin’ me pant for breath. I rip my clothes off, not givin’ a flyin’ fuck where they land. I throw myself back on the bed and place my hands behind my head, my cock sittin’ up proud and weepin’ for her touch.

“I’m all yours,” I say.

“Damn straight,” she agrees, swipin’ the strawberry condom off the bedside table and rollin’ it down my length.

A shudder moves through me and she lifts her eyes to my face. She’s kneelin’ over me, tits hangin’ down, heavier than usual, thanks to the babe she’s carryin’ in her puku. I hold her gaze, tell her through my eyes how much I need her, want her. Love her.

“I’m waitin’,” I say.

“So demanding,” she replies and then she leans forward and takes me deep down her throat.

Fuck. She sucks me hard. She sucks me so fuckin’ good. She writhes above me, moanin’ and lickin’ and fingerin’ herself. I’m fuckin’ in heaven and this woman blowin’ me is an angel.

My angel. My Abi.

“Red!” I shout when I finally blow my wad. She shifts back, a supreme look of satisfaction on her face, and licks her lips.

And when she kisses me, she tastes like strawberries.

Strawberries and fuckin’ heaven.