Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
L akeshia
If I ever thought I was cut out to be a homemaker, the hours I’ve spent idling the day away in Shinji and Takeshi’s home disabuses me of ever thinking so again.
Domesticity isn’t my bag.
And being surrounded by reminders of Shinji and Takeshi’s blissful married life only unsettles me. Reminds me of what I’ve lost and will never achieve for myself. I once lived in a warm home with a father who desperately thought I did no wrong and shamelessly spoiled me. He probably wanted me as much as Shinji wants a child from my body now.
I pace until I reach the French doors opening to the backyard, but the change of scenery doesn’t stop my thoughts from rehashing last night’s events. As I stroll the spacious lawn, I question why I’m so conflicted.
Helping Shinji come doesn’t concern me as much as the connection I started to feel between the three of us. In my world, sex lacks genuine emotion. It’s an outlet for negative thoughts, stress, and just to feel alive. It also never requires me to share a bed for an entire night with someone, a self-imposed rule I implemented years ago.
But last night held more than the physical and although I can’t put my finger on what the more is, it’s fucking me all the way up right now. Try as I might, I can’t picture Shinji and Takeshi as johns.
They are too in sync with my needs. They’re too much…everything. Beautiful in their contrasts. Even Takeshi’s dragon tattoo, albeit different from Shinji’s, complements his husband’s in a way that shows their perfection as a couple while they couldn’t be more different as individuals.
No, johns they definitely are not. I bet even if I tried to pigeonhole them into the role, they would object.
I try to calm my thoughts by sitting on the outdoor wicker furniture and waiting for the natural sounds to soothe me.
I wait.
And wait.
And wait some more.
I pound the cushion, still un soothed. About to give up and return inside, a ten-pound weight lands in my lap, startling a yelp out of me and delaying my intentions to escape inside. I instinctively shove the black ball of fur from my lap. Its dissatisfied shriek identifies it as a cat.
After relaxing its fur, the creature turns unsettling yellow eyes on me. Its disdain is as tangible as a slap across the face. Without another thought, I book it inside. Four-legged creatures are also not my bag. I have enough problems with the two two-legged ones wanting to do a hostile takeover of my womb.
The doorbell rings as soon as I enter the house. Riu, the head guard Takeshi introduced me to this morning says, “It’s for you. A courier from the lab.”
“That was fast,” I reply.
Has fate sided with the Kimuras? With so many years of indulging in carnal pleasures, relying on my body’s lack of discipline is not an option. But is it too much to ask for a little more time before the I-want-to-sex-you-up duo makes good on their word?
I open the door and retrieve the envelope with my health results. The cheek swab and blood and urine tests are an annual routine for me, but I guess I haven’t been doing it right all these years. Takeshi insisted I get a physical exam and have cell samples from my vagina analyzed as well.
If I thought to delay him, he taught me differently. He had a lab technician waiting outside the hotel room ready to collect all the data he needed.
Takeshi is thorough as hell. Did submitting to his demands buy me time before I’ll have to ride the saddle? No, according to the test results staring me in the face. If only I’d remembered the level of wealth Takeshi and Shinji deal with isn’t bound by time.
Oh, well.
I read the results, proving my suspicions correct. My pussy may cause fevers but the high temperatures aren’t from diseases. A spark of hope warms my chest. I can buy myself time.
Since I have the letter, I can hold off on sharing the results.
Riu’s phone dings and he hands it to me with a slight flush to his cheeks. On the screen is a message from Takeshi.
I have your results. Prepare yourself for us tonight.
I now understand my guard’s pink tinge because Takeshi’s words have ignited a furnace inside me and opened the floodgates to my pussy. The way he handled Shinji last night pushed me to stop marinating in my jealous isolation and join in. Being part of their pleasure tantalizes and scares me. I don’t know which emotion threatens me more but desire leads the race.
Another ding draws my eyes to Riu’s phone screen once more.
Heard the good news. Tonight, swallowing won’t be an option for you. Shinji follows up his naughty message with a slew of emojis. A smiling devil, a water splash, and a cat between two eggplants.
I would find his antics funny if not for…
There goes my plan to stall them and hold out as long as possible.
I return Riu’s phone to him. Since getting sick at the airport, I haven’t gotten a new burner and the SIM card for my current phone is in some landfill on Oahu.
I don’t get too much time to dwell on what will happen tonight. The doorbell rings again and I look to Riu for direction.
“Also for you. The moving company with your things.”
The rest of the day is much busier than the first half. When will I realize that Takeshi doesn’t talk to hear himself speak? He had everything delivered except the garbage I left behind. Spices, napkins, even the leftover plastic bags I’d never reused despite my best intentions, sit patiently waiting to be re-homed.
As I survey the never-ending line of boxes coming through the door, an unacknowledged truth holds me hostage. While in Hawaii, I had accumulated more things than I thought because I’d gotten complacent until Tommaso’s men found me and reminded me of what I had to lose.
All my furniture goes into a room off the study. Like the rest of the house, the furnishings are sparse but Shinji and Takeshi have decorated the space for maximum utility and comfort.
Not anymore.
I shrug the thought away. Packing my old apartment up and moving all the stuff here was not my idea. Neither was having the homeowners be anywhere but here to decide where things belonged. If Takeshi has a problem, he can move the furniture himself. Shinji doesn’t seem the type to care.
A childish, impish idea takes hold and it takes all my control to relax my facial muscles and not betray my intentions with a sinister smile. I hope Takeshi likes my surprise.
With all the commotion, I don’t notice the cat from earlier entering the house until a mover bumps a curio. I glance up to see yellow eyes glaring intently at me.
“Tora no senshi, Katsuo will be upset if you aren’t home in time for Serafina,” Riu says to the beast.
“You know this cat?” I ask slowly stepping away from the hell beast whose stare follows my retreat.
“Everyone knows Tora. He adopted the boss, then when oyassan moved in with his wife, Tora adopted her daughter, too.”
“If he has a home, why is he in this one?”
Riu shrugs. “It’s a cat thing. This entire compound belongs to him.”
“Not while I’m under this roof. Can you…you know…take it outside?” I shoo the cat with my hands.
I’m aware of how I look. I can drop-kick a man, shoot with incredible accuracy, and be as bad as my enemies, but all that flies in the face of this small animal. And I don’t care if my reaction falls on the dramatic side. Small creatures, like babies, have a way of wearing down a hardened heart. Add fur and the damage is tenfold. They carry a price tag I can’t afford, not until I’ve settled Tommaso’s debt to my family.
Riu does as I request without cracking a smile. Gotta respect his discretion.
Not one hour passes when I find the feline ninja has snuck back inside. Again, on tall furniture. And with his intense yellow-eyed glare directed at me. How is he doing this? I would call him an escape artist, but does it count if he returns after being freed? Is there even a name for this kind of behavior? Each time Riu throws him out, the black menace returns.
Visions of Mr. Johnson’s fruitless antics from The Cat Came Back cartoon run through my mind. Not even death saved him from the cat and its nine lives. After Riu’s fifth trip outside with the persistent Tora no senshi, I give up and allow the cat to watch the action unmolested. Though, I’m not sure how much action he is watching. His eyes always seem to be on me whenever I glance at him.
Within twenty minutes of conceding to the four-legged terrorist, I glance at the last place I’d seen him to find him no longer there. As silently as he’d infiltrated the house, he disappeared. I try not to dwell on why I’m disappointed. I should sigh in relief. I don’t need to be the next adoptee on his list. Pissing off the Kimura boss because I’ve somehow stolen his cat is not a goal in my already precarious life.
“Love what you’ve done with the place,” Shinji’s smiling voice precedes the capture of my hand and my body swinging into Shinji’s arms.
Before I can catch my breath, his mouth is on mine and his tongue plays an aggressive game of tag with my tongue.
Who needs to breathe, anyway? Breathing is such an overrated activity.
“I brought dinner. We should eat before it gets cold,” Takeshi’s surly voice throws an ice-water challenge worth of cold water on my heated body.
Shinji and I part but he keeps my hand in his as he follows Takeshi to the kitchen. “Did you get a goodie bag from Kori?” Shinji’s hopeful expression is contagious. I’m hoping the food came from Kori, too. When I ate the lunch she packed yesterday and the extras she put in the Tupperware, I swear I visited heaven.
“Yes, and she included your favorite miso butter cookies.”
“You know, Lakeshia, if there were a person alive who could compete with you, it would be Kori. I don’t know where the boss found her but she is a miracle worker in the kitchen.” Shinji eyes me speculatively. “How’re your cooking skills?”
“Nonexistent,” I respond. “It’s not too late to enlist her in your baby-making endeavors.”
The words slip thoughtlessly out of my mouth and all activity and levity in the kitchen ceases, leaving behind an arid atmosphere devoid of life. I want to rewind the last few seconds and take back the words because I realize too late I don’t mean them. Not that what I said matters. I doubt Masanori would agree to Shinji and Takeshi approaching Kori, although she might. Yesterday’s tension seemed one-sided.
I shake my head from the distracting thought. Their theoretical reaction is less concerning than the real-life backlash I’m about to face.
Takeshi’s body is like granite, and the blackness of his pupils almost swallows his irises.
I really need to learn to curb my tongue around him.
Shinji’s response is almost worse. He looks at me with a hit-puppy expression, the injury my words inflicted visible for Takeshi to see. And if Takeshi sees it…
“You’ve hurt Shinji’s feelings. How are you going to make it up to him?” Takeshi rounds the kitchen island and pulls Shinji into his chest.
I swallow the lump in my throat as my mind whirls and discards one possibility after another.