24. An Erotic Tennis Match
Chapter twenty-four
An Erotic Tennis Match
Nyomi
As I continued forward, noise erupted from the back of the war room.
What the fuck?!
I glanced behind me. The door was still open with Reo in the center, now blocking the maybe-baby mama and her court from coming in.
Oh shit. That’s still happening?
Reo’s voice tore through the air in sharp, rapid-fire Japanese. Low at first—controlled, clipped—but with that undercurrent of danger I’d heard before in Kenji.
A warning wrapped in restraint.
Then the maybe-baby mama shrieked something back. Her voice pitched like broken glass, and her royal court leapt into the fray, tossing words here and there and pointing fingers in my direction.
Oh this is getting out of hand.
It was a swirl of high voices, dramatic gasps, and offended huffs.
Messy.
Operatic.
And loud enough that many of the men inside the war room actually looked up from their work.
One man near the far corner—tall, scarred, with a gun resting across his thigh—let out an audible sigh and shook his head like he couldn’t believe the drama that was happening.
Another muttered under his breath in Japanese, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with more attitude than need.
They must be talking some major hot shit about my being in here. Good. That’s what they get fucking with me. She started it. I had planned to keep it classy.
Turning back around and walking forward, I didn’t even give that ruckus any more thought.
Let Reo handle them. Not my monkeys. Not my circus.
Then I made it to the Dragon, and what I assumed to be his inner circle. I stopped four feet in front of Kenji.
Not three.
Not two.
Four.
It was intentional and calculated.
If he wanted to touch me. . .if he wanted to close that space between us. . .he would have to leave the desk, step forward, and cross the line.
And maybe that was petty. Or maybe it was power. Because the way he was looking at me made my heart pound so hard I could feel it in my earlobes. His gaze was pure fire—unfiltered, unapologetic.
He hadn’t stopped staring at me since I walked in, and it was getting harder to keep my own expression neutral, like I didn’t want to be dragged across that desk and kissed in front of his entire goddamn empire.
But still, I held the line.
I wasn’t going to be the one to close the distance.
Not here.
Not in this room.
Because this wasn’t just any room—it was a war room. A sacred space for strategy and blood. And even more than that, it was his war room. A place where every movement was watched, every gesture decoded. A place where power didn’t just speak—it breathed, observed, and remembered.
And I wasn’t just navigating criminal territory now.
I was in Japan.
This was also a cultural space.
And I had to remember that.
This wasn’t New York.
Japan was about respect.
About boundaries.
About privacy and posturing.
Therefore, if he wanted me, he’d have to step forward. And judging by the look in his eyes, it was only a matter of time.
Mmmm.
Today, the Dragon wore a long-sleeve black shirt—designer, of course—that clung to the carved planes of his chest and arms. The fabric hugged the layers of his sculpted body, and his black slacks sat low on his hips, casual and dangerous.
But it was his bare feet that threw me.
Why is this man so damn perfect?
Every toe had been arranged by a sculptor with a God complex. His nails buffed, neat. Not a speck of rough skin in sight. Nails painted black.
Oh, my man definitely gets weekly pedicures. Alright. I guess. . .I have a little foot fetish too. . .
His hair was damp, slicked back, as if he’d recently stepped out of the shower.
What’s this?
A tiny bandage curved high along his cheekbone.
When did he get injured? What the fuck?
Kenji let me drank him in and remained still leaning against the desk—but just barely. Every muscle in his body looked primed to launch. His knuckles flexed against the wood. His jaw twitched. His lusty eyes locked on mine, and for a second, I swore I saw the moment he almost said fuck it.
Almost lunged.
Almost pulled me in.
Almost bent me over the nearest skyscraper in that 3D Tokyo and tore this damn outfit in two.
I knew for a fact that if it weren’t for his men being around, I would have already been naked and getting deliciously fucked.
The air between us was a live wire.
He inhaled me.
Loudly.
His eyes fluttered half-closed, and he let out a low, guttural groan that made every inch of my body throb.
It was so loud that Lollipop guy snapped his head toward Kenji. His brows shot up in amused disbelief and then a wicked little snicker left him. It was so damned loud that the men near the back of the room stirred and began to come over.
Three of them approached first. One had platinum-blond hair tied back in a low knot. His gaze flicked between me and Kenji.
Beside him, another drifted forward, mohawk slicing through the air like a blade. He didn’t blink much. Just stared at me.
A third man had purple hair running down the center of his shaved head and tattoos climbing his throat like vines. He grinned at me—a little too wide, a little too knowing.
Two identical men stood not far behind them, arms folded, perfectly mirrored in posture and expression.
Twins? Yeah. Definitely twins.
They didn’t smile. They didn’t blink. Just watched with a kind of silent, spectral intensity that made me shiver.
So. . .are these more Fangs or am I finally seeing the Claws?
I guessed that they were Claws since none of them looked familiar.
Then came the others.
They weren’t walking.
They were closing in.
Suddenly, I spotted Kaoru with that long pink hair framing his heartbreakingly beautiful face. Tall and lean.
I smiled at him.
He gave me a quick wink.
Kenji didn’t notice, but Lollipop guy did and the line of his jaw twitched.
Okay. I should be careful and not be too polite to his men, just in case.
I noticed Yoichi too. Broad shoulders. Bald head. Tonight he wore a white shirt, yet his silver wolf tooth charm still rested against his chest.
Walking next to Yoichi was this scary guy with scars and military straight hair slicked down.
Alright. These are definitely the Fangs. I recognize most of them from the club last night.
All of them watched.
Not just Kenji.
But, me too.
However, I didn’t think Kenji noticed them appear at all. He still remained silent and leaning against that desk.
I shouldn’t have been naughty, but with all this gorgeous testosterone in the air and gazes locked on me. . .I slowly licked my lips.
Kenji’s eyes tracked the motion and he sneered like it hurt his cock.
Still he didn’t move.
Didn’t say a word.
So I spoke, “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“ You could never interrupt.” Kenji’s voice was darkly smooth and it vibrated through my entire body. While I had come to entice him, it was clear he had all the tools to equally tempt me.
Mmmm.
“I also should apologize for wearing shoes in your house. I know that’s against the rules.”
“Tora. . .break every rule in this house if it means I get to watch you walk in those heels again.”
“So then keep them on?”
"Yes. Keep them on. I plan to have them above your head soon."
Some of his men snickered behind him.
Clearly stunned, Lollipop guy widened his eyes.
Meanwhile. . .a lusty shiver ran through me. “Well. . .then they will stay.”
His men watched us both in shock, their heads moving from side to side—an audience at an erotic tennis match.
I tilted my head just slightly, letting my gaze lift to him through lowered lashes, like I was studying him—slow and hungry—the way a woman studied a secret she planned to swallow whole. “I know that women aren’t allowed in your war room so I’ll be quick—”
“You are not just any regular woman. Take as long as you need, and you are always welcome in here.”
My pussy throbbed.
Why did those words do that to me?
Lollipop guy?
Oh, he was entertained . His smile had sharpened into something brutally wicked, and he popped that red candy back into his mouth like he was settling in for a show.
“So. . .I just came in here because I wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself.”
Kenji’s pupils grew darker. Wider. Even from a distance, I could feel the heat pouring off him. For whatever reason, he was very pleased with that statement. “Is that right, Tora?”
“Yes.”
His eyes dropped to my legs like gravity dragged them there. I watched his throat work as he swallowed hard, jaw clenched like he was chewing on every filthy thought running through his head. “And if I am not taking care of myself?”
“Then, I will surely take care of you.” My fingertips skimmed down the front of my blouse, barely grazing the buttons. I wasn’t unbuttoning a thing, but Lord. . .I knew it looked like I might.
The Dragon’s fingers twitched against the desk. His shoulders were still, but his chest was rising faster now.
And I knew it wasn’t panic.
It was full-body hunger.
One of the twins leaned slightly forward and widened his eyes.
“Also. . .I was wondering if you were able to get any sleep?”
“Not yet.” His gaze fell to that black lace bra flashing beneath the sheer blouse. “However, I plan to be in bed very. Fucking. Soon.”
I licked my lips again.
He loudly groaned.
I tilted my head slightly and pointed toward his bandaged cheek. “What happened?”
“This?” Kenji lifted his hand and brushed two fingers against the small bandage high on his cheekbone, like he’d forgotten it was even there. “Someone shot at me.”
“What?!” Every drop of femme fatale I’d wrapped around my spine slipped right off.
Kenji’s lips curled—not into a smirk, but something deeper. Darker. “Don’t worry, Tora. I easily dodged it. The bullet only grazed my cheek. I felt no pain. Just vengeance.”
Snorting, Lollipop guy rolled his eyes so hard I thought his pupils might get stuck in the back of his skull.
Kenji went on like he hadn’t seen it. “And if you’re worried about the one who shot me, he is dead. It happened in seconds and I showed no mercy.”