Chapter 40
FORTY
Two weeks have passed, and Nikko is back at training.
I hate it, so I sit on the side, my glasses in place.
I’m supposed to be working. Yuki is beside me, but I keep checking on Nikko in the ring to make sure he’s okay.
He’s still staying with me, and neither of us seem eager for him to leave.
In fact, I’ve gotten used to it. I don’t know how I would deal with the house being so empty now.
Crossing my left leg over my right, I put my laptop to the side and lean forward on my elbow as I watch him duck under a swing his training partner delivers.
His dad heads my way and sits on my other side. “He’s doing well. He always bounces back quickly, don’t worry.” He pats my thigh, and I frown.
“The championship title . . . he still stands a chance?” I ask. It’s something Nikko has been worried about. His entire life is about boxing and getting that title, and his drive for it is sexy as hell.
“If he fights number two, then he still stands a chance. We planned to have him slowly work up to it, but I think we need to skip that and have him challenge him sooner rather than later,” his dad replies.
“It’s going to mean lots of psychological tactics and training, but I think he can do it.
He’ll need your support as well to stick to his regiment and meal plan. ”
“Of course,” I answer as I watch him take a little break and then get right back to it. He’s determined to win that title, and I’ll do whatever it takes to support him. I would buy it for him, but he wants to earn it. I respect that, so even though I can’t do much, I’ll be here as much as he needs.
“Maybe I could set up an office here,” I muse.
“You’ll probably need to,” his dad scoffs. “I don’t think he’ll let you out of his sight.” He nods at Nikko as I see him glance at me, even though he’s fighting.
I smile, and Yuki laughs at my side. I guess we are both protective of each other.
There’s a commotion that draws my eyes, and I see a group of girls entering the gym. They freeze just outside of the mats, looking around, wide-eyed.
“Who are they?” I ask Nikko’s dad.
“From the college. They go to school with Nikko. He has that study group after training, remember?” I recall him telling me, but still.
I glance at Nikko, but he’s oblivious as he throws a few punches and dances around his opponent. I know his arm will twinge later, though, so I make a note to get that masseuse to come back. She’s sixty, which is the only reason I even let her touch him, and besides, it helps.
My gaze swings to the twittering girls, and I glare as they wave and giggle, watching Nikko move around shirtless in the ring, his muscles on display.
“He should wear a shirt,” I tell his father.
“Not while he’s boxing,” he rejects.
Grumbling, I keep my eye on them as his dad gets up to correct him. Leaning into Yuki, I have an evil idea. “I need your help.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Tonight, I want . . .”
It’s all in place. Nikko is sulking because I left early and let him finish practice and his study group. He keeps blowing up my phone, demanding to know where I am.
Leaning forward between the seats with a vicious smirk, I wait. “Are you sure?” Yuki sighs.
“Absolutely. It shouldn’t be long,” I reply.
As if right on cue, Nikko storms from his apartment, heading to his bike.
He looks furious as he calls me again. My smirk is cruel as the lights on the two vans turn on and my men surge out.
He doesn’t know what hits him as they grab him.
He manages to knock at least five of my men out, and I watch him struggle between them, yelling as they tie his hands and feet together and put a bag over his head, then they gently put him in the van.
“I told you we needed more men,” I scold.
“He’s strong. I’ll give him that. He’s going to be pissed,” Yuki remarks.
“No, he won’t.” Leaning back in my seat, I tap his shoulder. “Proceed.”
The engines purr to life, and I wave at his father, who stands at the door.
I had to make sure he didn’t try to save his kid.
He just shakes his head and waves back as we pull away.
It only takes us ten minutes, and I slip from the van and walk to the building.
I hear Nikko cursing and swearing as he’s dragged behind me.
“I’ll fucking kill you!” he roars. “My boyfriend will murder you all.”
That makes me grin. I step into the room and hold the door for them. They drag him, writhing and bucking, inside and strap him to the reclined leather chair. When they are done, I nod, and they depart, leaving us alone.
The other part of my plan is waiting outside, but I need to talk to him first. I want him to know exactly what will happen. Taking off my suit jacket, I fold it and lay it on the leather sofa to the left, then I stride across the sparkling tile floor so I can run my hand up his bare leg and shirt.
He yells and tries to twist away from me, so I dig my nails into his chest and drag my hand up until I reach the back. “Let me go right fucking now!” he roars angrily, more furious than I’ve ever seen him.
Grinning, I grip the edges of the bag and pull it off, throwing it away so he can see again.
He blinks, his face red and angry until he realizes it’s me. “Zia?” He looks around, even more confused. “Do you know who did it? Let me up. I’ll help you kick their ass.”
“Did it? Oh, the kidnapping. That was me,” I share casually as I prop my chin on my hand as he stares at me.
“I don’t understand.” His chest heaves from his exhaustion, and I play with the edges of his shirt.
“Do you want to know what I realized today?” I muse.
“Zia, baby, what’s going on?” he asks, but he’s stopped fighting.
“I realized that you are far too fucking sexy to be dancing around a ring half naked for everyone to see. I realized that I didn’t like people looking at you with thoughts of touching what’s mine.
” I meet his gaze as I tug his shirt up above his chest, exposing his muscles.
I press my nails into his abs, making him hiss, but I feel him grow hard against me.
“Baby, I don’t know what’s happening. Just let me up—”
“No, I don’t think I will.” I swing my leg up so I can straddle him, and he groans, lifting his hips as he watches me. “Right outside this room is the best tattoo artist in all of Pine Valley.”
“Tattoo artist?” His words are slow as he rolls his hips, distracted by his desire. He glances around the space again, realizing it’s a studio. “Why?”
“Because I don’t like my toys to be stolen,” I warn. “I print my name on everything—my house, my gate, my bank, and my cars. Everything I own has my name on it, and so will you.”
“You . . . You want to tattoo your name on me?”
“Not want. I will.” I lean in and brush my mouth down his incredible chest as he moans. “Right here, I think.” I lick his abs. “So every time they ogle you, they will see it and know you belong to me. Nobody will ever get any ideas of taking what’s mine.”
“Zia, I’m yours anyway.”
I bite down, and he yells, then I arch an eyebrow. “You wanted to be mine, didn’t you?”
“Of course, but this is crazy. You don’t need to tattoo me,” he grumbles as he tugs on his hands. “Let me go.”
“I already said no,” I retort. “You’re going to wear my name one way or another, unless you don’t want to be owned by me? Unless you want everyone ogling you, thinking you could be theirs?” I challenge as I grip his throat.
His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t fight me, his lips tilting in a smile. “Do it. Go ahead. I don’t care. I’ll wear it proudly if that’s what you want, baby. Do it. I dare you.”
I bite his lip until it bleeds. “You should know better than to dare a man like me, Nikko.”
Sliding from his body, I open the door to the artist who waits nervously. He’s a skinny guy with glasses and messy, curly hair. He’s attractive in an indie sort of way, but his art is incredible, and I only want the best for my boy. “Come in, he’s ready.” I step back, and he eyes Nikko and me.
“I have to ask for consent,” he explains carefully.
Stepping closer to Nikko, I smack his side since his eyes are tracking me hungrily, ignoring everything else. “You heard him.”
“I consent for you to tattoo me with whatever Zia wants,” Nikko tells the man as he looks at me. “Anything. As long as it makes him happy.”
Narrowing my eyes, I step back so the artist can set up, and then he holds the machine over Nikko’s abs. “Are you ready? Let me know if you need a break.”
“I don’t. Do it,” Nikko says without looking away from me. We keep eye contact as the machine buzzes. The only sign he feels it is the slight tightening around his eyes. We don’t speak for the first ten minutes or so. We just stare at each other.
I expected him to back out, call me crazy, and break up with me, but if anything, he seems smug.
“What’s with that look?” I snap.
“You know what this means, right?” he responds.
“What?”
“You love me.” My eyes widen as he grins.
“You didn’t even care this much with Faiz, but you kidnapped me to let everyone know I’m yours.
That means you love me a whole fucking lot.
” His grin widens. “Tattoo every inch of me if that’s what you want.
I’ll wear it because it means I’m yours and you’re finally mine. ”
“Or I’m just possessive of my toys,” I snarl.
“Sure, keep telling yourself that, baby.” He sighs almost dreamily. “I can’t wait to show everyone what you did. Wait, does my dad know?”
“Of course,” I mutter.
“Good man. Remind me to thank him later.”
I stare, unsure what to say. “Stop,” I order the artist. “Leave, it doesn’t matter.”
“Don’t you dare stop,” Nikko interrupts me, and the tattooist swings his gaze between us. “Keep going. Do it all. If you do, I’ll pay triple what he offered you.”
“Nikko, it was stupid. It’s your body.” I’m suddenly embarrassed.
“It’s your body.” He grins. “Now stop looking so pretty and distracting me.”
Huffing, I cross my arms and wait as the ink goes into his skin. I was sure I wanted this, but I’m worried he won’t like it or will be mad. If anything, though, he’s gloating and so happy that I’m shocked into silence.
Even Yuki worried about his reaction, but I guess we were all wrong.
When he’s done, the artist nods at me and flees the studio, leaving me and Nikko. I unlace his bindings and step back. He sits up and slides from the chair, turning to the mirror to check it out.
OWNED BY ZIA XANDER
The tattoo is in a bold, flowery font with my house symbol interwoven amongst the words. It does look beautiful, but I worry I went too far.
He traces it with his fingertip, careful not to touch it, and then he turns to me.
“Come here.” He crooks his finger at me.
Tilting my head back, I remain in my spot, and he sighs.
Shaking his head with a roguish smile, he walks over to me, wrapping his hand around my neck and turning me so we face the mirror again.
“Are you happy now, baby?” he asks.
I look from the ink to him, and I have to admit, satisfaction pours through me. He must see it because he smiles as he leans in and kisses me. “Good, that’s all that matters. Come on, let’s go home. I’ll bet you’re hungry after all this.”
“You aren’t mad?” I’m so confused.
“Mad? I already told you. I’m over the fucking moon. As soon as you’ve eaten, I plan to show you just how much. Besides, I can’t wait to see you ride me while you stare at this.”
He takes my hand and leads me to the door, his shirt still up, and as he steps out to see Yuki and my guards, he grins widely, showing off his ink.
Yuki scoffs as he looks between us. “Congratulations, sir. You have found someone as batshit as you.”
He isn’t wrong.