GW10 Samurai Game

by Christine Feehan

  A small herd of deer moved along the trail leading to the stream. Dipping their muzzles, some drank while others served as guards. His world. He’d never really seen and appreciated it before. The forest and outdoors had always brought him a semblance of peace, but having Azami in his life had changed his perspective on things. He found himself smiling for no reason at all as he turned back to pad across the room to the bathroom.

  When he emerged from his shower, a towel riding low on his hips, she was there, looking so beautiful he couldn’t breathe for a moment. She carried a mug of fresh coffee. The aroma blended with her scent, a welcoming start to any morning. He found himself smiling like an idiot as he took the mug and bent to kiss her.

  “You look beautiful this morning.”

  Her hair was back up in that twisty thing she liked, each ornate pin in place, with those few artful long strands hanging down around her neck and shoulders making her look sexier than ever to him. He wanted to remove those pins slowly all over again. She wore her silken robe, and clearly nothing else beneath it, but she smelled like heaven, so she’d had her bath. Even her hair had a fresh, citrus fragrance he couldn’t quite place but he found alluring. His free hand curled around the nape of her neck. She looked serene, demure even, yet her eyes, when she looked at him, held liquid heat, bumping his pulse rate up.

  “How can you look so innocent after last night?”

  She gave him her mysterious smile. “A woman must have her secrets, Sammy.” Her smile widened and she walked on bare feet over to the neatly folded clothing on top of the dresser.

  Sam took a slow sip of coffee, watching her intently. She moved like water, a flowing, fluid motion so effortless she seemed not to displace the air around her. He had a difficult time detecting any surge of energy whatsoever around her. She was at such harmony with her surroundings, she blended in, rather than stood out.

  The silk slid from her shoulders inch by inch, slowly revealing the rising phoenix, the long intriguing tail feathers, so lacy, curling along the curve of her buttocks. He nearly choked on his coffee, and his body reacted instantly to the sight of her naked body.

  “I’m going to have a hell of a hard-on all day, thanks to you,” he accused.

  She turned her head, a graceful movement, her long lashes fluttering as she observed him with her dark eyes. “I am glad, Sam. I want you to think of me throughout the day. That will please me, knowing you are looking forward to our bath tonight.”

  His cock jerked hard at the memory of the way she’d cared for him. He groaned. “You’re killing me, honey.”

  She took a scrap of lace in her hands and slowly pulled it up over her legs, lace shaping her buttocks lovingly while a single lacy strap disappeared between her rounded cheeks. Sam groaned again and stepped close to grasp one firm cheek in the palm of his hand. She smiled at him and moved her bottom more snugly into his hand. Both her hands went to the back of her head, lacing her fingers together, and her lashes lowered, her lips parting slightly.

  Sam closed his eyes for a moment, praying for strength. Hot blood rushed to his groin and the memory of the taste of her filled his mouth. She was naturally sensual, every movement as precise and flowing as when she was in battle or pouring tea. His body had gone so hard he was afraid to take a step, afraid he might shatter. He swallowed hard and dropped the towel from around his hips, one hand closing around his aching erection briefly before reaching around her with both hands to cup the slight weight of her breasts.

  He bent his head to her inviting neck, kissing his way down to her shoulder while his fingers plucked and teased at her nipples. Her small body shifted back against him, her skin rubbing along his like a cat.

  I am picturing you at my feet right about now, with that pretty mouth of yours filled with my cock.

  Really? Her head went back against his chest. Her arm came up around his neck to draw his head down to her lips. She kissed him, drawing his tongue into her mouth until he was groaning at the simulation of what he wanted. You had only to say so. It will be my pleasure.

  The joy in her voice, in her mind, made his body all the hotter. He hadn’t known until that moment that his enjoyment was off the map because of her enjoyment. That was the reason his body responded to her the way it did. Crazy hard. Hot and pounding with urgent need. So close to loss of control. Mind-blowing.

  Azami turned in his arms, her breasts brushing enticingly against his chest. She pressed a kiss over his heart and then on various scars along his ribs and down to his belly. His breath caught in his throat as her hands cupped his balls, rolling and squeezing gently before sliding up to circle the girth of his cock. His breath left his lungs in a rush.

  She took her time, just the way she did everything. Careful. Fully engaged. Complete concentration. And so damned loving he felt he’d died and gone to heaven. Her soft lips brushed over the sensitive velvet head, small kisses, her tongue swirling around to catch the pearl droplets. He put his hand on her shoulder, and she went to her knees in front of him, her gaze locking with his. The sight of her sent his heart pounding and his hips rocking. She was the most beautiful woman—the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

  One hand slipped between his legs, massaging along his inner thigh, her fingers moving progressively higher as her mouth slid over the head of his cock. Hot. Wet. Tight. Her tongue danced over and under, hitting that sweet spot that sent a shudder of pleasure down his spine. Fire raced through his veins and raged in his groin, roaring like a firestorm in his belly. Her mouth tightened around him and her fingers found that spot right behind his balls, caressing and massaging while her mouth worked over him.

  This moment was for him—all for him; he could see it in her eyes. The giving. The gift of her body to him. The selfless act of passion. The joy in her vibrated through her mouth straight to his hard flesh. The small hand at the base of his cock began to squeeze and release in time to the pull of her mouth and the massaging of her fingers. The suction was hard and tight, and then slow and easy, shallow and then deep with that clever little tongue teasing at the one spot that kept his body shuddering with pleasure.

  Sam couldn’t take his eyes from her even as his hips began to take over the rhythm, his cock on fire in that silken, wet tunnel. Take a breath. Because he needed this now. He couldn’t stop the small thrust that took him deeper and damn it all, he’d been proud of being long and thick, but he was pushing her to the limit and he couldn’t stop the need building in him—raging in him. Another. He pushed deeper each time, holding there for just a moment while she squeezed and massaged his cock, while the fire burned out of control in his cock.

  She gave herself up to him, coughing a little, but following his command each time he told her to take a breath. The heat built and built, the pressure never ending, never letting up. He could feel the fiery storm in his balls, and those clever fingers never stopped massaging, pressing deeper just as she took him deeper, her mouth so tight, so silky, he couldn’t stop the hard thrust of his body as she took him over the edge.

  Her long lashes fluttered as her throat worked, but she was valiant and determined, her mouth loving him as he poured into her. He stayed for as long as possible in pure ecstasy before slowly softening while her tongue washed him the way her hands had done, with meticulous care and total commitment.

  Sam’s knees threatened to give out. He stood on shaky legs waiting for his brain to work again. Azami stood up gracefully, a small pleased smile on her face as she leaned over him, her hands cupping him gently so she could place a kiss on the head of his cock.

  “Thank you, Sammy. I love pleasing you.”

  Before he could find his voice, she padded barefoot into the bathroom, and he could hear her rinsing out her mouth with the unhurried, fluid movements he had come to expect from her. He stood in the middle of the bedroom, breathing deep, shocked that his life had changed in the blink of an eye, shocked that a woman such as Azami could possibly give herself to him the way she did—so completely.


  She reentered the room, looking just as innocent and demure as she had earlier, as if she hadn’t just taken him to heaven. She reached for the small lacy bra that matched her underwear. “The garrote is such a thin wire it doesn’t show up on airport security. And if it did, it simply appears to be an underwire. It’s very comfortable, so much so, I forget it’s there most of the time.”

  The moment she began to talk weapons in that sweet, soft voice, heat curled in the pit of his stomach. He sank down onto the bed to prevent himself from making a total fool of himself and falling at her feet. “Nice. I have mine sewn into the seams of my jeans.”

  She nodded. “I do that as well.” She drew a pair of soft, straight-legged black trousers up her slender legs. The material was deceiving, stretching, easily moving with her body. She added a red silk blouse and picked up an intricate belt. She smiled and handed it to him.

  Sam took the belt into his palm, lifting it carefully to weigh it. The belt was made of several strands of woven rope. The weave was artwork, decorative and attractive. The belt buckle was small to fit her size, a flat silver, sturdy, with what appeared to be a sunburst carved into it. “Very lightweight.”

  “And handy. The rope can hold up to a thousand pounds and yet is easily shot from a crossbow to be used as an anchor to reach another building. The belt buckle is actually a throwing star, or, in a pinch, a grappling hook, reinforced titanium.”

  “Very handy. That’s my woman, the walking arsenal.”

  She laughed softly. “That’s not the half of it.” The belt went around her narrow waist and she bent to pull on socks.

  “Are those made of explosives?”

  Her dark eyes regarded him soberly. “I thought of that, but no, too difficult to get to.” She straightened and took a ring from the nightstand, slipping it on her finger. The ruby stone was small, yet it sparkled when she moved her hand. “A tiny amount of powder that can render temporary blindness.”

  Sam shook his head and caught up his clothes. She really was a walking arsenal and, God help him, all the sexier for it. He watched her reach for her ruby earrings. They dangled delicately from her ears, twin fiery stones at her lobe and several rounded pearls on the end of five braided chains. He raised his eyebrow. No way did he believe the simple jewelry was just that.

  She sent him another smile. She touched the white balls at the end of the chains. “These are not real pearls, just shells to house the ammunition for my blow gun. It gives me ten extra needles in a fight.”

  “I’m getting another hard-on just thinking about you with all those weapons.” His hand snaked out, fingers settling around her wrist. He tugged until she was between his legs. “How am I going to get through the day knowing you’re so damned sexy, woman?”

  Her eyes, heavy-lidded, drifted over his face and down his body, clearly marking him as her territory. “The same way I will. I look forward to our evening together.”

  “I know there’s no public displays of affection,” Sam said as he buttoned his jeans, “but if it gets too bad, don’t be surprised if I drag you into a closet and tug those trousers down.”

  Her eyes jumped to his face. “You are a very brave man, Sammy.”

  “You have no idea what I’m willing to sacrifice if it means more sex with you.”

  Laughter danced in her eyes as she secured a necklace around her neck. A single pendant hung from the slender chain. “I will look forward to an adventure in the closet,” she said with a demure sweep of her lashes.

  “That has to be a knife of some kind.” The pendant was short, no more than an inch and a half, shaped like a very slender heart. “Is it made of ceramic?”

  “Every lady needs one.”

  He stepped close to examine each piece of jewelry. The craftsmanship was amazing, the details simplistic but appealing. He raised his eyebrow. “You?”

  “My father was renowned and I learned from him.” She pushed a bracelet made of thin spirals of twisted hemp onto her wrist. The bracelet was quite unique but attractive. She held up her arm. “For my bow or crossbow. I can assemble one in under a minute.” She reached for a second bracelet, which she pushed close to the first, a wrap of strands of beads.

  Sam didn’t have to be told that was a weapon, he’d seen warrior beads before, but hers looked ornate, very beautiful with carved beads. No one would ever suspect that the bracelet was lethal.

  Azami added a slim, beautifully crafted watch to her left wrist. He raised his eyebrows.

  She laughed. “A lady has to have some secrets.”

  On top of everything, she looked beautiful in her red silk blouse and black suit trousers. He could see how she could move fast and easily dressed as she was. The blouse was loose-fitting enough that she could have a few knives placed strategically if she was going into battle.

  She reached for her shoes. Boots, he corrected himself. Stylish. Low heels with fancy grills going up the front of the pair. He studied the eyelets made of strong metal—titanium? Definitely more than boots, but he had no idea what—only that in Azami’s hands, they would be lethal.

  Azami swung around as a soft vibration accompanied the flash of a strobe light throughout the room. Sam, who had looked lazy and content, leapt off the bed and dragged on clothes fast. She didn’t ask questions but hurried into her jacket, shoving knives into the specially made sheaths. Jamming a gun down into one boot, she added a knife to the second.

  Sam shoved the floor rug aside and yanked open a trapdoor in the floor. “Move it, Azami, now.” He stepped back to allow her to precede him.

  Azami didn’t hesitate. She went down the stairs fast, using the rail to slide into the basement, Sam right behind her. She waited in the darkness. She could see, another “gift” from Whitney’s enhancements, probably the cat DNA. The basement looked like any man’s basement: tools, pegboards, and workbenches. She remained absolutely still—waiting.

  Sam went to the side wall closest to them and ran his palm over what appeared to be a light switch. She would bet it actually turned on a light too. A door built into the wall swung open without a sound. Small trace lights ran along a tunnel. This time Sam went in first. Azami followed him in silence. She flexed her fingers and ran a checklist over her body, ensuring every muscle was stretched and limber, ready for anything.

  Sam halted in a small alcove, once again using his palm and then his eye on a retinal scan to open another door. Azami’s breath caught in her throat.

  “Sexy,” she commented, peering around him. “I’m impressed.”

  “We’ve got them scattered through the tunnels. You’ll have to be programmed in to open them. We have maps in our heads to all the various weapons caches,” he said as he shoved guns and ammunition into belts and harnesses as well as his boot. “Need anything?”

  “Another gun. My crossbow’s in my room. I have a mini, but it’s not terribly effective at great distances.”

  She saw his eyes flick to her face, assessing her capability with a gun. She grinned at him, sheer audacity. His features relaxed and he gestured toward the armory.

  Azami had already spotted the small automatic she was most familiar with. It fit in her hands easily. She had small hands, and often a weapon just didn’t sit right in her palm, but she liked the little automatic. She caught up the belt and ammunition and stepped back, indicating she was ready to go. She didn’t like taking an unproven weapon into combat, so she would rely mainly on her speed and up-close fighting if there was need, but the weapon might come in handy.

  The moment Sam closed the doors, they began to jog through the tunnel, heading, Azami could tell, straight back to the main compound.

  My brothers?

  They’ll be in the tunnels with Daniel and Lily. No one will take chances with them, Sam assured.

  I’m not worried about them. They are samurai. They’ll be an asset to you. They fight with great skill and can handle multiple weapons.

  Azami was unconcerned for their safety as he seemed to think she would be. She kn
ew both Daiki and Eiji would protect Daniel and Lily if anything went wrong. Sam didn’t know them as she did. She’d trained with them and had no doubts about their skills. They weren’t afraid to die any more than she was, but the world would lose two incredible and intelligent human beings if they were killed.

  What are we facing?

  I have no idea. The signal is just for preparation. Someone is approaching the compound. We don’t take chances, and it’s good practice to stay alert. Most of the time, it’s some lost hiker or a group of hunters, but we’ve had a couple of suspicious vehicles that turn around the moment they realize they’re under surveillance.

  She loved that Sam believed so much in her. They’d made love over and over. She could feel his love and support surrounding her, yet he still saw her as she was: a woman who would never go into the tunnels and wait to be told it was all clear. He understood—without her having to explain—that she would have his back no matter what.

  Tunnels run completely underground from our compound to Team Two’s compound and between each of the houses. Each section of tunnel every twenty feet has an activation switch and we can blow precise direction blasts.

  She noted every turn they made and where each overhead opening to escape was. There were no ladders, but she could feel the difference in the air and just make out a black painted hand grip above her head. There was a way to the surface in five places that she’d counted. She didn’t yet know how to use them, but she was grateful they were there. Tunnels could be used to a great advantage, but they could also be terrible traps.

  Are those grips trapdoors to the surface?

  Yes. You have to jump to them. You catch the grip, invert, plant your feet on either side of the trapdoor, and using the rings to brace your body, heave upward.

  So only someone with enhanced strength can open the doors?

  He glanced over his shoulder at her, obviously assessing her size and strength. That’s it. And they have to know they’re there. He didn’t break stride, jogging at a fast pace down the long tunnel toward the main compound.