by Nadia Lee
“I see I’m inflating your head.”
“Oh, you have nooooo idea.”
I reach for the door, but Lucas is faster. He pulls it open and escorts me in. The entryway is elegantly appointed with a minimalist Japanese-style flower arrangement: a few maple branches framing a single, large autumn bloom.
The hostess is a young Japanese woman in a beautiful deep-pink kimono. The skirt portion has intricate patterns of bright yellow butterflies and red and purple flowers. She bows precisely, her movements neither slow nor fast, then welcomes us in a professionally girlish voice. “Irasshaimase.”
Lucas gives her his name, and she says, “Hai,” with an “I’m thrilled to be serving you today” smile and takes his jacket. Another young woman in a beautiful kimono, this one crystal blue, comes out and takes us to our table.
As we walk along the corridor, I glimpse other diners through bamboo screens hanging from dark wooden beams. Most of them are decked out in expensive suits and beautiful dresses. Rolexes flash on their wrists, and colorful jewels twinkle on their fingers and ears. One or two might be celebrities I’ve seen on TV.
Our table is in a secluded corner. The bamboo screen gives us an illusion of privacy. On one side is a window that faces an interior courtyard with more rock garden and a pair of miniature maple trees. The leaves are a shade between green and red; behind them, a bamboo fountain gurgles at the opposite end. Small spotlights embedded among the pebbles showcase the various features.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, sitting down as the waitress pulls out a plushy, high-backed chair for me. She’s also in a kimono.
“Glad you like it.” He grins and takes a seat. “I made it clear to the concierge that she had to select a place you’d never forget.”
The waitress serves us warm fragrant tea. She then confirms the sake choices with Lucas and leaves. Everything at the table is perfectly minimalist. The chopsticks are gorgeous, lacquered black with golden fish motifs on the thicker ends, and rest on pale ceramic pieces shaped like crescent moons. A translucent green glass centerpiece holds a huge chrysanthemum in the most vivid shade of yellow.
I rest an elbow on the table and prop my chin in my hand. “You’re taking my comment back in Chiang Mai seriously, aren’t you?”
I don’t have to say more. He shakes his head. “I’m not going to force you to get the most expensive items while being a dick about it. And I apologize. That was uncalled for. But…I want to spoil you. So why don’t you let me?”
“All right. So what are we getting?”
“Omakase.”
“So it’s going to be a surprise?”
“For both of us. The concierge ordered. My Japanese isn’t good enough to deal with all the details myself.”
I smile wryly at his modest response. “I doubt that. You did some real damage at my school, and if you sounded barely literate, Kouchou-sensei wouldn’t have taken you seriously.”
His forehead wrinkles, his mouth tightening for a moment. “I…hired someone to make the call.” He sighs. “Not exactly proud of that.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I’d hope not.”
“Another thing on the ‘Lucas needs to earn forgiveness’ list?”
If it were anybody else, I’d laugh as though it were a joke…or maybe tell him that yes, he’d have to work his ass off to earn my generous pardon. But Lucas… He is surprisingly vulnerable and sensitive, and I don’t want to do anything to hurt him.
I reach over and take his hand in both of mine. “There’s no list, Lucas.”
The waitress interrupts the moment by placing our first course on the table—finely cut slices of various fish with miso sauce for dipping. The plates are stunning, with a delicate white glaze that seems to shimmer under the light. Warmed plum sake provides a perfect complement.
I have a slice of salmon and sigh, reaching for my drink. The fish is perfectly prepared, the coldness of the meat going well with the heat of the liquor. “This is so good.”
He smiles. “Glad you approve.” He takes a bite thoughtfully. “Just so you know, I hired a crew to come over to your place tomorrow. They’re going to help you pack everything.”
“So fast?”
“With the right incentive…”
“I can pack my own stuff. I don’t have much.” I didn’t bring a lot to Japan—just clothes, shoes and a few personal items.
“I’d rather you relax tomorrow. I booked you a massage.”
A massage? “You shouldn’t have.”
“Wrong answer. You’re supposed to say, ‘Lucas, I’m disappointed you only got me a lousy massage,’” he says in a falsetto voice. “Just so I can say, ‘Actually, you can get whatever you want at the spa.’”
I feign irritation, but it’s impossible when he’s looking at me totally unrepentant. “I think you’re the one keeping a list. ‘Don’t ever let Ava hear the end of it.’”
“I’d never. You said you wanted to be treated like a queen, and you’re right.” The light humor slips from his face. “Bennie told me you don’t care about stuff like this—”
“I don’t.”
“—but you must’ve at least dreamed of it at some point if you were buying lottery tickets.”
Oh my god, how could Bennie talk about that? Argh! It was a stupid thing I did when I was younger. I don’t want to think about it ever again.
“I’m not judging,” Lucas adds. “The odds are horrific, but people buy them to dream.” He gives me a crooked grin. “Guess you were sick of PB and J sandwiches.”
He is giving me a perfect deflection. I should seize it and nod and laugh and pretend I was a silly, fanciful child.
But I can’t.
Lucas has allowed himself to be vulnerable with me, and I want our second chance to work. I’m already hiding a huge secret, and I don’t want to lie to him about more things.
Sighing, I put down my chopsticks and reach for another small serving of sake. “I was young and stupid and didn’t listen to my mother, who told me I would’ve been better off spending that money on snacks or something more immediately practical. I did stop eventually. I’ve learned my lesson.”
“Ava…” Lucas pulls back, his concerned gaze on my face.
Damn. I sounded too bitter. I didn’t mean to. I merely blame myself for not realizing what was going on sooner.
“When I asked my mom to get them for me, I had no idea what they were really for. I just knew if I won, Dad wouldn’t have to work so much.”
Lucas is quiet, but eerily still. His full attention is on me, like a lion looking into tall, waving grass.
“But the fact is, even if I’d won, Dad wouldn’t have spent my birthday with me. Or Thanksgiving or Christmas or…”
I pause, trying to control my roughening breathing. I’ve never told anybody about this. People who know know because they either saw the whole thing blow up in person or heard from those who did. It’s the ugliest chapter of my life.
I could stop now, and that would be that. I don’t think Lucas would probe, but I don’t want to stop, and it’s beyond merely trying to be more open about myself with him. Do I want Lucas to become disgusted and leave me alone before he breaks my heart again? Is this a final attempt at testing him? I don’t know, but I can’t keep it inside anymore. “He would’ve found another reason for being away.”
The lines of Lucas’s face grow hard and unyielding. “Was he having an affair? Had a child he had to provide for or something?”
I flinch. Lucas is so close. If it didn’t hurt so much, it would almost be funny how quickly he’s put it together. My past isn’t that unique—just a damn cliché. Suddenly I can’t talk about it anymore—my childhood self as a laughable heroine in a tragic farce. “Forget it. It’s a pointless story, and it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Yes, it does, not if you can’t laugh about it.” He links his fingers with mine over the table. “Can you?”
I shake my head and toss the sake back. “He was a cheater, but not the
way you think. He was a married man having an affair with my mom, but neither she nor I knew. She thought the reason why he didn’t want to get married was because I was a girl and he didn’t want to jeopardize the benefits we were getting. Their combined income would’ve been too much to qualify for stuff. But if they weren’t married, he could use his friend’s apartment as his ‘mailing address’ and we could collect EBT and whatever else my mom qualified for.”
Lucas’s hold on me tightens. “I’m sorry.”
“We found out only because there was an accident while he was driving with Mom. Miraculously, Mom was fine, but Dad didn’t make it. I can’t describe how it was then… I was…” I close my eyes for a moment, seeing the entire scene play in my head like a movie. “I was devastated, and so was Mom. But it was nothing compared to how we felt when his family showed up—a wife and a daughter. Sondra and Elle.” I pick up a piece of fish, but discover I can’t eat it. “They weren’t anything like us—well-fed…well-dressed…well-groomed…”
The old humiliation burns through me. They wore designer clothes and expensive perfume that wafted from bodies toned from regular gym visits. Sondra’s hands were soft and well-cared for—the total opposite of my mom’s.
“It was clear they’d never had to eat peanut-butter sandwiches. Apparently, Dad was a banker. He left everything to his real family, and the only thing Sondra and Elle cared about was keeping his dirty little secret hushed up to save face.”
“I’m sorry, Ava. I’m so sorry.” He’s squeezing my hand gently, but tension is twisting his face. “God, I don’t know how you can give me another chance after an experience like that. You must’ve hated me when you said I was treating you as a ‘dirty little secret.’”
I shake my head. “I didn’t hate you, Lucas. I…I just didn’t believe we could be together. I know about your family. How wealthy and important they are.”
“The rich part is right, but they aren’t important.” His dark gaze meets mine directly. Its intensity is like a snare, impossible to pull away from. “Nobody is as important as you,” he says.
I take his hand and lay my forehead on it. But it isn’t enough. I need a deeper connection with him. “Do you think they’d mind if we left now?” I murmur.
“I would mind,” Lucas says. “I want you well-fed, well-cared for. You can’t possibly understand how much I want to take care of you.”
My lips curve into a smile. He doesn’t understand how irresistible he is when he speaks like this, how easily he can cut through all the protective layers I have and reach into my heart.
It doesn’t matter what I told myself two years ago…or since. I’m still in love with this man. This sweet and generous side is what I saw first in him—with me and with Mrs. Ling. He quietly loaned them some money—interest-free—so they could get through the year, and he paid off the lease on my apartment so I wouldn’t be evicted after two of my roommates were arrested and expelled from the university for selling prescription drugs. The only reason I found out is because the landlord slipped up, not because Lucas ever wanted to take credit. He loathed talking about his own good deeds.
And that’s not all. I found more and more little things he’d done to help out. And that selfless generosity…it really touched me. It felt so good to have somebody watching over me for once. Like I mattered.
“Why don’t we compromise?” he offers. “After we eat, I’ll give you everything you want.”
“That doesn’t seem like much of a compromise, horny Neanderthal,” I tease.
“But it is, Ava,” he purrs. “I plan to make you come as many times as you want…and then some more, but only after you finish your dinner.”
I smile and lean over the table to kiss him on the mouth. “Deal.”
Chapter Nineteen
Lucas
I’m sure the proprietor of the restaurant would be horrified if I said I’m not really noticing the food that much.
I have the feeling it’s pretty good—there’s no urge to spit it out or anything—but I’m riveted by Ava, her obvious enjoyment, the way she licks her lips and laughs at the jokes I make. My body’s hot and hard, and I feel my blood heat as we get closer to the inevitable conclusion of the night, but I try not to let it color my interaction with her. My need for Ava isn’t just sexual. It’s…everything.
As annoying as Bennie was, I’m grateful he made me probe about her background. Otherwise I might’ve never known.
You didn’t want to know.
That’s true enough. When I first met Ava, the last thing I wanted was to become overly entangled. Even as I craved her, I fought against feeling too much for her—that would’ve only ended in utter disaster…or so I told myself.
What a fool I was. I missed out on discovering a lot of Ava’s most critical aspects. If I’d known back then… Well, I’m not sure precisely what I would have done…but I would’ve acted differently.
My patience is slowly running out as we approach the dessert, but I ignore the lust bubbling in my blood. It’s only one more course, and Ava deserves to enjoy everything.
She spoons the sweet custard paired with rich vanilla and chocolate ice cream. “This is so good,” she moans as she licks the spoon clean off, her pink tongue flickering.
Jesus.
My dick engorges further as I imagine her licking it the same way. I have to remind myself she’s just pleased with the dessert. I have no idea how it tastes; every cell in my body is incapable of processing anything but her—her presence, her scent, her smile, her warm gaze.
Long, thick eyelashes lowered, she spoons another bite. A lovely flush colors her cheeks. When she lifts her gaze, I see the want seething beneath those ice blue eyes.
“Are you really going to make me finish dessert?” She ends her question with a slow smile.
I toss my spoon on the table. “No. We can have a private dessert.”
“Finally!”
I hand my credit card to the waitress, and as soon as we pay our bill we’re out of the restaurant. It’s a bit chilly outside, the wind nipping. I take off my jacket and drape it around Ava’s shoulders.
“You’re going to be cold,” she says.
“Nope. I have you to keep me warm.”
I pull her close, fitting her in front of me, and wrap my arms around her. When I hold her like this, I can let myself relax a little bit. I’ve got her, and she can’t go anywhere.
She relaxes against me as a taxi pulls in. “Mmm,” she hums, rubbing her ass against my stiff dick. “Sure you don’t want your jacket back?”
I bite her earlobe gently, feel her shiver. “You can be my cover.”
When the taxi door swings open, she and I climb inside together. I give the smartly uniformed driver the name of my hotel, and he shuts the door and merges into the traffic on the road.
I don’t let go of Ava. Instead I settle her between the V of my legs, and run my fingers along her soft, silken thighs under her skirt.
“Lucas,” she whispers, her voice thready.
“I know, baby.”
“The driver can see us.”
I flick my gaze his way for a second before returning it back to her. “He isn’t paying attention.”
“But—”
“Shhh. Who cares? We’ll never see him again.”
I press my lips against the bare skin at the base of her neck. Her breath hitches, and I tighten my hold on her. My cock feels as heavy as iron now. I grit my teeth as she squirms in my lap.
When the ride is finally over, I toss the money at the driver and drag Ava out, keeping her in front of me to hide the tent in my pants. The whole building could be crumbling down in front of me, and it wouldn’t lessen my ardor a bit.
Ava takes my hand and presses it against her belly. And we’re off.
* * *
Ava
My fingers linked with his, I trot as fast as I can in my heels across the impeccable lobby. Lucas maintains speed, his long legs eating up the distance.
&nb
sp; Call me shameless, but I want to kiss Lucas silly in the privacy of an elevator. My body is tingling all over after feeling him pressed against me in the taxi and his hot breath on my neck. Sizzling need throbs with my every pulse; it’s all I can do not to pant.
Disappointment crashes down when we reach the elevators. There’s a crowd waiting—women in traditional kimonos and men in black suits. Crap.
“Don’t despair,” Lucas whispers against my ear. “We’ll find a way.”
“A way to what?” I whisper back, feigning ignorance although running my tongue along my lips probably betrays me.
“Another sneaky”—a sharp nick at the earlobe—“naughty way.” A lick to soothe it.
I gasp. “You’re shameless.”
“Shamelessly desperate for you.”
Hearing those four words, my clit throbs as though they physically rubbed against it. I clench my legs so I don’t behave like a total hussy and devour him right here in front of the elevators.
When a car arrives, we manage to get in first, mainly because Lucas pushes through the crowd. We settle into the back of the elevator, and the people fill in. I’m standing in front of him, his jacket draped around my shoulders and his left hand still linked with mine and pressed against my belly.
As the car moves, I feel his right hand slipping under the skirt and roaming all over my ass, lightly and teasingly. Even though my body is heating with need, I pull away. I’m already about to blow. I don’t need him to stroke…
A finger caresses along my folds through the damp panties. My entire body goes rigid. I dig my teeth into my lower lip to stifle a moan, gripping his hand so hard it almost hurts.
But he is undeterred. The elevator stops every so often to let people out, but his fingers continue to trace the slickness between my thighs. Three floors away from our room, the last people get out and we’re finally alone in the car. He pushes underneath the hopelessly wet fabric and rubs against the bundle of nerves.
“Lucas,” I hiss. My knees are threatening to buckle.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers in my ear.
I close my eyes. “The security camera.”