“We could,” I agree. “But it would be your last bottle of bubbles for nine months.”
She laughs and kisses my cheek. “I’ll call the doctor tomorrow morning.”
The door opens from the garden to the dining room and an older Japanese man wanders in with salt and pepper hair. “… Is that your grandfather? How old is he?”
“Yes! Come!” She grabs my hand, but turns back to answer, “He will be eight-one this year!”
“You must be Sal Raniero,” he says, extending his hand. “I am Keishi Nakamura.”
I shake his hand, but his grip is not what I’m accustomed to. He is gentle, kind. “Yes, Sir.”
He parts with a slight bow and I do the same. “Shall we talk and then eat or eat and then talk, my pretty flower?”
“We should eat and then talk.”
“Very good,” he praises as I help Iris down onto the tatami mat and cushion. “You’re lucky. Your friend did not get this royal treatment. We only eat here on special occasions, birthdays and holidays.”
I sit down to the low table and ask, “Where is your lovely wife, Aki?”
Iris blinks with surprise that I even know her name.
“She is in Hawaii on vacation with my sons, Raiko and Nori,” he says as long rectangular plates of food are brought to the table. “You’re well studied.”
“Yes, I like to know things.”
“Do you know how I came to own Lotus, Mr. Raniero?” He scans over the top rim of his glasses.
“I do, Sir.”
“I don’t,” Iris whispers.
“A man by the name of Daizhou Ito originally ran what is now Lotus,” Keishi explains thoughtfully. “I had met with Sal’s grandfather, Luca Raniero, long ago. We were very good friends and we made an arrangement, didn’t we, Sal?”
Looking at the wide-eyed Iris, I slowly say, “Together, they hired a young punk out of Louisiana to eliminate Ito from the picture. His name was Victor “Saint” Cruz.”
Her lips part as she sits, stunned. “Deacon’s father…”
“Yes,” I acknowledge.
“And he did a fabulous job!” Keishi says, offering a toast. “The Raniero and Nakamura’s have a long history together. Unfortunately, I cannot stand your father, Cesario.”
“You are not alone in your feelings,” I reply, wondering—if this is the lighthearted dining conversation—what hell after dinner will bring. “Cesario is not like Luca.”
“Not in the least,” he snorts, picking the squid and tofu from the salad. “To controlling the future!”
“To controlling the future,” I concur.
His intense stare radiates through me as I eat the whole salad. “You do well with chopsticks.”
“Thank you.” I proudly say, “Luca taught me many things.”
“He was a great man,” he says, “And an incredible golfer!”
“I wish we could ignore what my father has done.”
“You’re not alone,” he says as the tapa plate of tataki arrives. The thinly sliced, rare beef is seared for a pronounced flavor. “In that view, son. Many have considered what to do with him.” He dips the spoon into the ponzu sauce and offers me some. “My wife does not care for sauce, so they all come on the side.” He smiles at Iris. “Flower?”
I glance at Iris who looks decidedly uncertain about the consumption of the very pink beef. “Do you eat wasabi?”
“Not too much.”
“This is what I get for my flower being raised in the states,” he complains. “I warned her father it was a mistake.”
I can tell she is struggling, so I come to her rescue. Pulling off my jacket, I take a bit of the ponzu and wasabi and mix it before dipping a small piece of the beef. Her eyes nervously skirt to mine as I bring it to her mouth on the chopsticks. “Sal…”
“Trust me,” I reassure. “It’s not that much different from carpaccio.”
The fear consumes her expression. “He’s right,” Keishi encourages. “You should trust him.”
“Do it,” I whisper as she opens. “Savor. Don’t rush.”
“You might get her eating sushi.”
She does as I ask and swallows. “I eat sushi!”
“No!” Keishi and I both say at the same time. We laugh and he extends his hand across the table.
“That stuff you eat is not sushi,” I say as Keishi watches with pride when she opens her mouth again. “We have to teach you how to eat.”
She takes a moment and says, “How do you know how to eat?”
“I’m Italian.”
“And I’m half Japanese!” she argues.
“It’s different though because you didn’t not become immersed in the culture at a young age, I did.”
“Next thing I know,” Iris whines, holding her champagne stem. “You’re going to be teaching me how to meditate.”
“I probably could,” I concede. “I pray an awful lot.”
“My father could never get me to shut up,” she sighs.
“That’s funny,” Keishi says with a hearty chuckle. “Because he hated going to the shrine.” Realizing how much she missed out on, she frowns as Keishi points to me. “He’s a smart one.”
And somehow, over plates of food, a paesano kid from Boston bridged the gap that had been created between Keishi and Iris Nakamura.
After dinner, Iris and I go for a walk under the awnings surrounding the palace while Keishi calls Aki. “I’m extraordinarily jealous of the connection you have with my grandfather.”
“You shouldn’t be,” I comment, noticing her shivering. I wrap my jacket over her shoulders as a faint drizzle falls from the sky adding to the tenebrous atmosphere. “We have an unusual connection with my Old Poppa.”
“I hate you sometimes,” she confides, genuinely upset. “I hate how good you are to me and how you can make me listen. I don’t ever listen to anyone…but you…you, stormed in and stole my fucking heart.”
“I am in love with you, Iris,” I mutter, lifting her chin and giving her a kiss. “And that is never going to stop—ever.”
“You’re awful trusting to go strolling with the Lotus Queen on the palace grounds.” Immediately, I laugh, remembering our first moment, before passionately entangling my tongue with hers. She breaks away and grabs my hand. “I want to show you something.”
“Are you aware it’s wet out there?”
She turns to me with that smile. “… Are you going to melt?”
“No,” I reply as we run along the exposed path to two other homes. There is a narrow space adjoining them, like a covered alleyway. We bypass the rain chains trickling with water to stand between the two homes where it is dry. “What is this?”
“Private,” she maintains, pushing me against the building and shrugging my jacket off. Her wet hands are all over me, sliding through my slick hair and undoing my tie. My fingers ease under the hem of her dress as I rub a finger along the damp seam of her lips. With her mouth nibbling my pout, she undoes the buttons of my shirt, and I pick her up. Spinning around, I press her back against the wood.
“You’re so cruel,” I hiss as her stealthy fingers undo my pants. “You’re tempting the fates.”
“I can’t take it anymore,” she whispers, hungrily. “I need you inside of me, Sal.”
“… Are you sure?” I ask, gently laying a finger to her lips as she strokes my cock. “Because once you say go, I’m not going to be able to stop. So, you best make sure this is what you want.”
“Are you going to assault the Queen, Mr. Raniero?”
“If the flower says yes, I’m not making any promises she won’t get wet.”
“It’s too late for that.” Her eyes spark to mine. “Do it, Master.” With my hand on my shaft, I run the head along the dampness as I threaten to submerge into the flood. “Don’t blink, Salvatore. Don’t hesitate. Go for the kill.”
With a swift motion, I pin her hands above her head and thrust my cock deep into her pussy. I’m so hard and safe in her warmth as she soaks arou
nd me. “Jesus fuck…”
“Oh, God…” she gasps, curling her fingers onto my hand. “Don’t fucking stop.”
“Nevah,” I reply, rolling my hips deliciously slow. I kiss her again and fondle her bare breast beneath the dress. The thin strap falls from her shoulder, revealing the flesh, and I take her in my mouth, savoring the plump fruit. She tastes like summer peaches fresh off the tree. I drool like a rabid animal as I succumb to the ache and fall prey to her surrender.
God. Help. Me.
Holding her down, I claim what is mine, thrashing and bucking as we fight together to a simultaneous victory. “You’re going to come inside of me.”
“Like you cannot imagine.” I slow down to almost a still inside of her because it is all too much. A mischievous smirk upturns on my lips. “You’re going to drip through dessert, darlin.”
I drop her hands as I place my forehead against hers and we breathe one another in. She yanks my shirt from me and pulls off the tank before sinking her talons into my ass. “You’re so good, baby. You’re so hard.”
“This is what you do to me,” I admit, fucking her with all I have. “You make me crazy. And yet you are the only thing in the world that keeps me sane at the same time. I love you so goddamned much.”
“… What are we going to do?”
“Exactly what we planned,” I contend, rocking with long strokes. “It’s gonna hurt, but I promise you, no matter what happens… I will be there at the end. Do you hear me?” I place my hands on her cheeks and force her to look at me. “I am yours.”
Quiet tears flow down her cheeks. “I just never thought falling in love was going to be so damned painful.”
“It won’t be much longer, baby,” I reassure with devout conviction. “I promise you.”
“You’re my ultimate escape plan.”
“You don’t think I know that?” I kiss her with all the love I have as our fucking changes to love making. “I do, because you are mine. You make everything brighter…better…beautiful. And I can’t believe you want to be mine. Because it’s me who doesn’t deserve you. I’m nothing compared to you.”
“Sally,” she panics. “What are we going to do if you hit the target?”
“We’ll have a baby,” I reply, kissing her softly. “And I will take care of you and her…”
“Or him,” she adds, smiling through the tears.
“And I will take care of you and our baby for the rest of our lives.”
“You know, we could’ve just had anal,” she deadpans with a grin that captures my soul. Lowering fast, I bite at her nipple. “Oh, God,” she moans, running her hands over my shoulders. “I hate it when you shift and don’t tell me.”
I fire thrust after thrust, pounding my flames into her waters, as we steam with desire. The smoldering lust takes hold and nothing else matters, not the past or the future. The only thing that matters is right now, in the present, in this moment. “Come to me, Iris.”
As if we never skipped a day of practice, she shudders around my dick with a glorious moan and I release, coming inside of her hollow. And I know this may be the minute we create something of ours. This may be the exact instant where she is mine and I am hers and there will never be any denying it.
And we are each other’s only escape route.
“Oh, shit…did we just do what I think we did?”
“Ya,” I say with a boyish grin. “We did, baby.”
“Woohoo!” She cheers, high in the moment, and kisses me. “Any regrets?”
“Nope. Not one. You?”
“I think we need to do it again when we get home.”
“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” I run my finger along her jawline. “And I meant what I said, I don’t deserve you. I’m just a punk.”
“Then you are the Lotus Queen’s punk.”
With a smugness, I revel, “That works.”
In semi-damp clothes, we sit at The Chairman’s table, holding hands, and pretending like nothing just happened. I try not think about the fact a just blew a massive load of cum into a girl with no safety net.
We’re flying in our love swept world and acting a little crazy. I try not to think about how incredibly awesome it is that she is sitting there with my spunk nestled in her womb and oozing out between her lips—again, with no safety net—we could be baking a baby, right fucking now. I’m thrilled because I’ve never experienced this before, not like this anyway.
But I play it cool.
Cause I’m that guy.
We’re drinking Japanese Whiskey in the opulent dining room. I’m smoking cigarettes as Keishi puffs on a pipe. And it’s good until he asks, “Why don’t you tell me about your meeting with The Commission? How did it go?”
Oh. Shit.
Iris glares at me like I’ve been holding out. Like she just fucked a mob boss. Like she just let a street thug ejaculate into her without knowing the full disclosure of the fine print at the bottom of the page. Like I did this to get a one up. Like she just fucked the competition.
And got had.
“The invitation from The Commission is still being decided upon.”
“Your grandfather was a highly esteemed member,” Keishi reminds with a smile. He clearly doesn’t see the competitive aspect Iris does. Hell, I’m not even sure I do, but by the look on her face, she is challenged by my new notoriety. “You should be very proud.”
“I am, Sir,” I honestly confide as Iris jerks her hand away from mine. “It is an honor to even be considered.”
“Excuse me,” she mumbles, getting up from the table and zipping for the door. “I’m not feeling well.”
I slam back the glass of whiskey as Keishi asks, “Would you like another?”
“Please.”
“She didn’t know,” Keishi deduces, pouring the drink, as I shake my head. “I need a warrior—a samurai—one bestowing the eight virtues.”
“I am very well aware,” I assure, fully understanding his position. “You need someone to pull in the franchises and protect your granddaughter’s back.”
“I need a man of worth by her side.” He reaches across the table to clutch my hand. “And I would be pleased if you would be her intended, even if she doesn’t understand the importance of this moment.”
Stomping into the room, Iris criticizes, “The importance of this moment?”
Oh. Fuck.
“Iris…” I try to dissuade her from jumping off the deep end. “Don’t.”
Her expression is one of pure rage, and I know while I can still make her come on command, I cannot control her word slinging or the harsh dose of her reality I’m about to endure.
We’ve yet to practice this.
“My intended would have told me he was considering being a member of The Commission. My intended would have told me he was going to consent to their rituals. My intended would not have done what he just did outside in the rain!”
“This doesn’t need to be a thing,” I excuse, glancing down with remorse. “It’s not going to affect you and I.”
“Bullshit, Salvatore!” she wails, letting the avalanche wash through her and crash head first into me. I feared this moment. “If you think for one minute that I’m letting a ranking member of The Commission guard me, you got another thing coming, daego,” she snaps as tears stream over her cheeks. I’ve never seen her quite this mad. In her fury, she crosses her arms, watching the scattershot of daggers plunge into my heart. “I’m sorry. I love you. But it is them or me. Because I won’t risk you with those men.”
The way she said men is offensive, and I can only take her brutal, underhanded attack for so long before my blaze charges ahead in a self-preservation move.
“Is that what this is?” I ask, pulling my knees up and draping my elbows on them as I talk with my hands. “Because I really thought this was about us. Not your family. Not my men. Not you. Not me. Us.”
With a side-eyed glance of contempt, she rises like the Lotus Queen made of ice, razor sharp and waiting to lick the bl
ood of my wounds. “If you were worried about being a street thug, you just proved it.”
Closing my eyes, I lower my head and shake from the absolute absurdity of this argument, but I don’t burn her down. I don’t even come close to melting her spitting shards. I just sit and take it.
Because love.
Apparently, someone else notices my willingness to be used as her own personal Italian punching bag.
Beyond impressed, Keishi defends, “My flower, it is a great honor for a young man like Sal to be noticed like this. It shows great promise. And if you do not take him as your intended, I will not be allowing another. We have negotiated and dealt fairly with The Commission for years. Our relationship is imperative to our continued success whether you are involved with Sal Raniero or not, one way or another you will never abstain from his presence,” he implores, clasping his hands, as I focus on his choice word—abstain. “You do not need the whole spotlight for you to shine, Iris.”
Kapow.
Keishi to Luca’s grandson’s rescue.
“Great!” She complains, lifting her arms. “So, I’m thirty years old with no hope of ever getting married. I’m not sharing Sal—not with his women or his men.”
Low blow, babe.
She leaves again, and I know this time, she isn’t coming back.
“What my granddaughter does is up to her, but you are more than an appropriate suitor. You are generous and caring with her. You challenge her. And I will happily hand her over to you.”
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“I want great grandchildren, Sal.”
“I know,” I say, downing the whiskey. “I want children with the lotus flower.”
He settles back into his chair. “The things I am about to tell you are never to leave this room, not to my family or Iris. Lotus cannot get a stronghold in Chicago with the skirmishes going on between Campanelli and Cinco. I need to be able to push Campanelli out to begin the elimination of The Four Horsemen, and the only way I can do that is if you make Javi Neves disappear.”
This is the second time someone has asked me to kill that son of a bitch.
And I’m just mad enough I might do it.
Every Minute I Love You (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 3) Page 45