Maybe she could just hang out in here until he left or fell asleep. He’d had a long day, and it was well past midnight. She strained to listen. Nothing could be heard through the thick wood of the door. Life sucked right now. She hated life almost as much she hated her fucking period right now and herself. She knew he was going to think she was an idiot. She was a grown woman who didn’t know when her cycle was. Jesus be a calendar. Dumping the tissues and then flushing, she wrapped herself in a thick terrycloth robe, rushed to wash her hands, then walked over to the door hoping she didn’t drip blood everywhere before she could hurry back and take a hot shower.
He wasn’t lying on the bed or naked. He was lounging like a panther on the chaise by the floor to ceiling windows again. And like that jungle cat, he was all stealth and patience, waiting for the right moment to pounce. She would’ve loved being pounced and pounded by him but alas… He was so composed it was as if he had no desire to rush, like he’d wait as long as she needed. Looking at the bed that remained untouched, she remembered that when he stayed the previous time, he made sure to bathe before touching the bed. Well, that made him way better than most men who didn’t care if they bathed or not. He looked up at her waiting, she was sure, for her to drop the robe. Poor fella. It wasn’t happening.
“Umm. Hi.” She squirmed, feeling her smile tremble under his intense scrutiny. This was not ideal at all. “My cycle started so, we can’t.” She waved back and forth between them and the bed. “Sorry.” She shrugged. She watched him closely as his eyes pinned her to the spot, the realization of her words dawning on him. If he was upset, he gave no indication at the moment. He looked as still and cold as the glass behind him.
“I mean you might still want to—” She started shaking her head even before the words were out.
“Iie.” The clipped no cut her off.
“Well, okay.” She nodded, backing back into the bathroom before shutting the door with a loud snap, at least to her ears. Her head hung as tears threatened to clog her throat. This was a fucking travesty. She was having the worst possible luck with this guy. Nothing was the right time, or he was being an ass. She really needed to just go back home before she heaped anymore humiliation upon herself. She gave in to her teary giggle, walking over to the shower then turning it on full blast as she tucked her hair into a shower cap. She just needed to be clean. He had probably already left in disgust at this point. She could hope because the last thing she needed was him thinking she had orchestrated this as well. Saying she was still smarting from the accusation in his eyes earlier was an understatement. Why did she feel the need to gain his trust when he would probably be furious with her for leaving out her technicality? Flower had to admit that being a virgin at this late stage was odd, though it would be seen as a badge of courage in her hometown. Here, amongst the haute and sophisticated, she knew it would seem gauche. She didn’t usually give a goddamn about what other people outside of her family thought, yet for some reason she really wanted Akchiro to think well of her. Sighing, she dropped the robe and stepped under the spray, hoping it would wash away the unease she felt.
The full blast of the jets massaged the ache from her body as she took her time under the heated water. Allowing the sumptuous smell of the soap to replace the metallic scent of blood, leaving her skin smooth with only a hint of fragrance. Her cycle had never been regular and since coming to Japan it was even less so. She probably had the birth control she’d started to thank for that. She needed to do a better job keeping up with it to avoid further unfortunate surprises.
Stepping out of the shower, she patted her skin dry and rubbed herself down with a whipped mango body butter soufflé. Finding what she needed to take care of her cycle was not a problem since Takara had made sure there was an abundance of everything she would need for her time with Akchiro. Then she went about the process of braiding her hair into two long ponytails for the night. That done, and after washing her hands, Flower headed to bed.
“Are you done or have you finally decided to stop hiding from me?” The lazy drawl of his words belied the heated anger of his gaze. Stunned seemed too paltry for the feeling that racketed her body at seeing Akchiro not gone but still reclining on the chaise with his arms behind his head with fingers interlaced. Flower stopped at the threshold of the bathroom, watching as he uncoiled himself from his sprawl and stood, then walked over to her with the lithe grace of a panther. Yet his hand sprung like a viper as he whipped out and grasped her chin, tilting her head to meet his lips. “Never hide yourself from me.” The kiss was gentle—at first, as he slid his tongue along the seam of her lips. The moment she dared touch her tongue to his, the movement changed.
His heat blew through her, igniting a fire so hot it fucking hurt. She throbbed for him deep inside. A sob caught in her throat as she wrapped her arms around him. Part of it was the longing her body had for him. If she had true courage, she would admit that he called to something deeper, down to her soul. Wrapping her hands around his neck, she tangled her hands into the heavy mass of his hair. He groaned and dragged her closer. He was so hard against her belly, she gasped. Surging closer, she wanted to climb up his body. He was so hard and hot. He broke the kiss. His breath sawed in and out as he fought for control. “I should fuck your mouth,” he gritted, rubbing her lips with his thumb.
His hand moved to her throat, where he rubbed the pulse thrumming there, giving it the slightest squeeze before he dragged her back for another hot kiss. This time though, she just took what he gave, loving the way he plunged deep into her mouth. This kiss was much briefer but no less erotic, ending this time with the softest bite on her lower lip.
“Go to bed, Flower,” he groaned, stroking her cheek before he stepped into the bathroom.
She stood holding the cheek he’d touched in a daze until she heard the shower start. Blinking, she shook her head and walked over to the bed they were obviously going to share despite the inconvenience of her period. The cool sheets did nothing to extinguish the fire raging in her body. She almost wished he didn’t care if her cycle had started or not. Almost. She didn’t need a huge mess added to what would definitely be an awkward situation. She still had to tell him. She’d been given a few days’ reprieve. She’d find the right time to broach the subject, she thought, trying to figure out a way to say it in a “hey, it not a big deal” type of style. Though the primal part of her brain warned that Akchiro Takeda was the not type of man who would take her virginity or any deception, perceived or otherwise, lightly.
By the time he came into the room, she was dozing but woke when he got between the sheets and pulled her into the warm embrace of his strong arms. His clean scent enveloped her. And she sighed against his chest, rubbing her face against the cool silk of his night shirt. Any thought that he’d taken care of himself in the shower was quickly dismissed as she felt the heavy weight of his dick pressed against her. She reached down to take him in her hand and began to stroke him. “What are you doing, Flower?” he groaned and surged inside her palm in the most deliciously involuntary way.
“You seem uncomfortable.” She kissed the silk of his shirt, pressing her lips against his accelerated heartbeat. Her stroke was bolder, yet even she heard the questioning hesitation in her own voice.
He gently moved her hand away, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing her palm. “When I come, it will be inside you, and we will come together, little Flower.”
* * *
“This show is ridiculous,” Akchiro grouched a few days later, rubbing her lower back to ease the pressure of her cramps, wondering how he’d gotten roped into this. Oh, yes he thought darkly, he couldn’t seem to tear himself away from her other than going to work. After that he found himself coming back here to spend time with this unconventional—to say the least—woman. “I can’t believe you watch this.” He leaned down, inhaling the lovely scent of her hair. The light floral smell was addictive. He had a feeling the elusive scent would plague him long after they ended things. Not that he would
allow those thoughts to enter his mind no matter how different she was. He was nowhere near done with Flower Ellington. She was his. For now.
“Jane the Virgin is lovely. It has all the elements of a great romance novel, and it has all the crazy tropes—secret baby, millionaire, love triangle, villains—you can’t get better than this.”
Akchiro looked down at the pure joy shining in her eyes and couldn’t resist the chuckle that rumbled in his chest. She was a pure delight, and when she smiled like he held the world for her as she did, now he felt his heart squeeze.
“It’s adorable,” she breathed, her head against his chest while she looked at the screen.
“As are you,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. Her head popped up with the most radiant smile. Maybe it was the way the light streamed in, highlighting the brown of her eyes, making them almost gleam like dark honey, or the way she just seemed so happy to just be with him. Because no one just wanted him for himself. Everyone had something to gain from their association to the Takedas. He trusted none save his brothers and mother. Though Flower seemed to care for none of that; his money and reputation meant little to her. He seemed to be all she wanted.
At that moment Akchiro felt a shift within himself as if the whole of his world had inverted. His heart pounded, and his body responded in kind. He felt his dick go ramrod straight. He was so hard it was almost painful. Delicious but fucking excruciating. He wanted her so bad, his hand trembled as he gripped her head and brought her to his mouth. He wanted to be gentle. He couldn’t seem to contain his desire. This was unprecedented. Emotion along with desire threatened to topple him. He had never lost control like this. Not ever. In no circumstance. Not even when he saw to his father’s justice by dealing with his uncles’ treachery had he been anything other than the epitome of calm, ruthless power. That was how he was born, that was how he and his brothers were bred—what both of his parents demanded of them. For a mere slip of a woman, curvaceous and delicate as her name indicated, to break him that was unthinkable. It could not be borne.
His hand tightened the merest fraction before he forced himself to release her. He saw confusion flit across her face. She was so open. He felt anger rise inside him watching the myriad of emotions on her beautiful face. This would not serve her well at all if she were to remain by his side, if she did not get her emotions under control. He almost scoffed thinking that at the moment she was not the only one sorely lacking in that essential skill. The circle he frequented was powerful and equally vicious. The subtlety with which they dealt the eviscerating blows would be an attack that she would not be prepared to withstand, and if they thought for a moment that he cared, it would lead to annihilation. He knew without a doubt that he would burn and salt the earth of any who would dare cause her harm. And when the hell had he begun thinking of her being with him long enough to care about her face or how it would reflect on him? He shook his head at the absurd notion.
“What’s wrong?” Her confusion bled into worry, and it was so evident in the cadence of her words.
“You can feel what is wrong pressing against you.” His words sounded cold and accusatory even to his own ears. He found comfort in that; she would do well to remember who he was and it seemed he needed to also remind himself. Setting her away from him, he rose from the sofa, pulling his hair back and tying it in preparation to leave. She liked it down so she could touch it, and he’d allowed that yet—another thing he’d never done with another woman. None had dared to ask but when she did, and so sweetly, he’d been powerless to resist. He felt like a vise was closing in on his heart, and his mind was in shambles. He needed to get away. The fact that he seemed to be running away from her grated. Chafed. He wasn’t some fucking coward to run away from his lover like some schlub who failed to please.
“You’re leaving?”
He cut his eyes toward her then back, focusing on the now blank TV screen, not bothering to acknowledge her words as he ruthlessly twined his hair into a knot at the back of his head. It was obvious that he was leaving, so the question was moot. If he dared to look at her, he would be lost. He would be inside her. He knew she wasn’t ready yet as she still had days to go. He turned from her, walking around to the alcove to the door.
“We can watch something else…” He heard the hitch in her voice and rage poured through him like lava. He turned back to her and stalked back to the sofa where she’d scrambled into a corner, smoothing a throw around her. Leaning down, he bracketed both sides of her with his arms.
“Do you think this is a game, Flower?” He waited, his jaw clenched so tight he could barely get the words out, and watched as she shook her head. “Do you think I am some boy to toy with?” Again she shook her head. “Then don’t mistake me for one. I have business to attend.” Which was no lie because with Takeda there was always something that needed his attention, more so now that whispers of his attachment to her had begun to spread. Which made the amount of time he spent with her another thing out of the norm. The only reason his brothers said nothing was because they had been telling him for years that he worked too much. Chided him as if he were the younger brother in need of guidance. Though only separated by two years, Akchiro had been groomed to take the helm of Takeda from the moment he’d been out of short pants. He had time to play and be a child, was allowed every luxury that his position allowed, and for that he was grateful. He always knew what his parents’ expectations were and he had never failed them. Flower’s position in his life and the unprecedented effect it had on his business he was not unprepared for and more than equipped to deal with, though the emotions she evoked him were another thing entirely. He found himself in a quandary of his own making, and if he were honest, one he had no wish to extricate himself from.
“Who says I will be here when you get back?”
Her challenge was cute. He smiled to let her know he thought so. “You want me as much as I want you but make no mistake. You may leave and never come back. That is your choice. This has always been about what you want. I won’t hold you here.” He studied her reaction, seeing emotion play across her face. “Just say the word.” The taunt silence dragged on as he watched her, schooling his features into a cold implacable mask. She must never know how his heart tripped at the thought of her demanding to leave. That type of weakness spelled a particular type of destruction. She looked away from him, curling her plush throw around her in a huff, dismissing him. Standing away from her, he watched as she pointedly took the remote, looked past him at the screen, and started her show again. He smiled at her audacity, touching her cheek lightly before heading to the door.
“When I come back to you, I am making love to you until neither of us can move.” He heard her gasp at his words and found no small amount of satisfaction in that as the elevators closed, leaving her in their little piece of heaven. He just had to make it another few days.
* * *
“Brother, you seem distracted.” Riyu, who portrayed himself as austere and remote, had a vein of mischief running through his soul like fire, as evidenced by his none-too-subtle taunt.
“Yes, Akchiro, are you not hungry? Mother has provided a delicious repast for us and you seem not at all interested.” Not to be outdone by his twin, Takashi added the gentle rebuke to his words. Rakish and condescending to a fault, his brother quirked an eyebrow in his direction.
Akchiro pointedly ignored his brothers’ smart-ass observations but made a point to eat more of the food before him. He’d made it back from Osaka in time to have his weekly meal with his family. Tonight was important for many reasons, not the least being he would see Flower. He’d worried that he had hurt her with his words when they were last together and found it hard to say the needed apology in the time they spent apart. That had left their conversations stilted and short. He would make it up to her. She never wanted gifts as others he’d dated previously always seemed to desire, nor did she insist on going all over to Tokyo hot spots.
Whenever he inquired about what she wa
nted, her response was always just him: “I just love hanging out with you, Akchiro.” When had that ever been the case before when he dated? Never. She was both refreshing and a delight. A complete departure from the cold calculation of every socialite from every country he had ever had the misfortune to know. Maybe a woman like her was exactly what he’d needed all along.
“It seems you are infatuated with this American girl,” his mother mused as she placed her napkin on the table, signaling the end of the meal.
He looked up, catching her arched eyebrow and the amusement softening her mouth, and didn’t bother to deny it. He found he had no desire to keep Flower a secret from his mother. Nor was he surprised that she knew all the details about his relationship. If nothing else, the Takeda matriarch was resourceful and fierce when it came to her sons.
“She is remarkable. You would like her.” Akchiro sat back and watched each reaction as silence prevailed. His brothers’ smirks were wiped from their faces simultaneously. Had they thought he would hide her? Deny her? Never. Then to his surprise, slow smiles spread across their faces as they first looked at each other in the silent communication that he often envied with their twin bond, then at him, and finally settled on their mother.
“Very well, Son, let’s take this discussion to my library.” The men rose, with Akchiro in the lead to escort their mother to her favorite room in her water palace, as she loved to term it. She and their father were great fans of modern Japanese architecture and designed their home within the larger Takeda compound in that fashion. The home reflected his mother and her personal style. Sleek and fashionable was Mami Takeda, and she exuded that quality effortlessly.
Lotus Flower Bomb: The Mogul Series Book Two Page 7