Chapter 20 The Hot Surprise
Chapter twenty
The Hot Surprise
Nyomi
I stepped inside the tea house, and my whole body went rigid. It took all of my energy to take off my cape.
Thankfully one of the assistants rushed to grab it from me.
Oh my God.
I scanned the space.
Gold fabric draped from the ceiling, cascading down the walls in heavy waves. Candles covered every surface—hundreds of them. Their flames danced in the air. The smell of smoke and incense filled my lungs.
Sweet.
Heavy.
Sensual.
In the corners, three men stood with their hands clasped behind their backs. At their feet—fire extinguishers.
Red.
Industrial.
Ready.
My stomach dropped.
On a side table near the wall, instruments were laid out in neat rows. Metal rods with wrapped ends. Glass containers filled with clear liquid. Small bundles of white cotton. Wet towels stacked in a pile.
And in the center of the room. . .
Kenji.
He leaned against a stone slab, watching me enter.
Oh shit.
His hair was pulled back from his face, exposing the sharp lines of his jaw, the column of his throat. He wore leather shorts—almost bikini cut. The fabric hugged his muscular thighs like a second skin. The kind of shorts that left nothing to imagination.
Every tattoo on his body was visible.
Tonight, in the candlelight, with hundreds of flames painting his skin in shifting gold and shadow—those tattoos moved.
The dragons coiled across his chest breathed. Their scales caught the light and rippled, dark red bleeding into black, those vicious mouths opening wider every time a flame surged.
The hydra wrapped around his ribs tightened with each breath he took.
The oni demon on his shoulder twisted in the shadows, its face shifting between rage and hunger depending on which candle burned brightest.
And that katana inked along his abs—the one that pointed down past his waistline like a threat and a promise—it fucking gleamed. The blade's edge caught every flicker in the room and threw it back at me.
God, this man is so deliciously sexy. I might bite him tonight.
When his eyes found mine, his expression shifted. His lips parted. His nostrils flared. A hunger crossed his face—wild, primal, barely contained.
The same look he'd had when he bit me.
I understood now. The clean skin. The hair pulled back. The fire extinguishers in the corners.
We are definitely playing with fire tonight.
Hiroko stepped in behind me and slid the door closed. Her assistants nearby.
“Fire?” I turned to her. "We are not doing this."
Her face remained calm. "We are."
"Fire. . .are you serious?"
"Yes." She moved to stand beside me. "This is dangerous. But this is what the Dragon wants."
My heart pounded against my ribs. “So. . .how are we going to do this?”
"He wants you to wield the fire tonight, Nyomi."
I stared at her. Then I looked back at Kenji. At the slab. At the restraint points I could now see clearly—metal loops for wrists and ankles, bolted into the stone.
"Why?" My voice came out too high. "Why would he want that?"
"I don't know why. But he was adamant about you burning him."
I shook my head and tried to breathe. "So. . .he’s going on the slab?"
"He is."
The words landed like a blow.
"I don't know how to do any of this." I gestured at the instruments, the candles, the men with their extinguishers.
"That's why I'm here." Hiroko gave me a sad smile. "I'll be with you through the beginning. I'll guide you."
I pressed my hand to my chest. My heart was racing too fast. "I don't want to hurt him."
Hiroko's expression shifted. Her eyes softened.
The professional mask slipped, just for a moment, and I saw the woman underneath—the one who had seen everything, done everything, and still found herself moved by what was happening in this room.
"I know. He knows too. That’s why he wants you to do it. "
The men stepped forward from the corners.
They approached Kenji. One on each side, the men guided him onto the slab and laid him flat against the cold stone.
The third secured his wrists to the metal loops above his head. Then his ankles. The restraints were leather—soft but strong.
He wasn't going anywhere.
The position stretched his body long against the stone. Arms overhead. Chest expanded. Every muscle pulled taut. The tattoo dragons strained across his pecs like they were trying to break free.
His abs contracted with each breath—a ladder of muscle that led my eyes down past the katana tattoo to those ridiculous shorts and the thick, heavy print of his cock pressing against the leather.
He looked like a sacrifice laid on an altar.
And I was the one holding the fire.
No. This can’t happen.
I moved before I could think.
My feet carried me across the room, past the candles, past the instruments, until I was standing beside the slab.
Beside him.
His eyes tracked my movement and never left my face.
I kept my voice low. "Kenji. We are not doing this."
He smiled. "We are, Tora."
"This is dangerous." I gripped the edge of the slab. "I've never done this before. I don't want to hurt you."
"You could never hurt me."
"I feel like I need to read books first. Watch videos. Learn something before I—"
"You did well with the water."
"That's different. This is fire. I know what fire does, Kenji. I know what it can do to a body."
“I know too.”
I took a breath.
"You wanted me to ask permission from you. You wanted me to defer to you." He shook his head. "And I couldn't do that."
"And I told you that I understand. That doesn't mean I need to now set you on fire."
"No." He held my gaze. "But I want you to see how much I am willing to surrender to you."
My chest ached. "I already know that, Kenji."
"But I want you to see it, Tora."
My eyes burned. I blinked hard, forcing the tears back. "What if I hurt you?"
"You won't."
"But what if I did?"
Kenji held my gaze. His expression didn't change. His voice didn't waver. "Then I'll burn for you." He said it like it was simple. Like it was so fucking obvious.
“Kenji—”
"I'm fine with burning for you."
A tear slipped down my cheek. I wiped it away fast, angry at myself.
"Tora, many men, I'm sure, have said they love you."
I went still.
"That they'll be there for you. That they won't break your heart." His voice dropped lower. More serious than I'd ever heard him. "But how many men have said you can set them on fire?"
I couldn't breathe.
"How many have said they will die for you—truly die for you—by your hands, if needed?" His eyes blazed. "I love you, Tora and I have never loved anyone this way before."
The words landed in my chest and stayed there.
Heavy.
Permanent.
A brand of their own.
I looked at Hiroko.
She stood a few feet away, watching us. Her eyes glistened. Wet and bright. She blinked once, twice, and the moisture disappeared. Her professional mask returned—smooth, composed, and unreadable.
But I had seen it. I had seen what this moment meant to her too.
Hiroko stepped forward. "Come, Nyomi. Let me show you the instruments."
Fuck. Am I really going to do this?
I followed her to the side table. My legs felt unsteady. My hands trembled at my sides.
She picked up one of the small white bundles first. It was soft, almost like cotton candy, but denser. More compressed. "This is flash cotton."
She held the cotton up to the nearest candle. The fibers were fine, almost translucent. "This will ignite instantly and burns away in less than a second. Watch."
She held a candle flame to the edge.
The cotton erupted—a bright orange burst that consumed the entire bundle in a single breath.
Then it was gone with no smoke or residue. However, a faint warmth hit the air.
"The cotton creates sensation without damage," Hiroko explained. "The heat is intense but brief. The skin feels it, but there's no time for injury."
She set it down and picked up one of the metal rods. It was about a foot long, with a wrapped end—fabric wound tight around the tip, secured with wire.
"This is a fire wand." She turned it in her hands so I could see the construction. The metal shaft was smooth and polished.
The wrapped end was thick and absorbent.
"This fabric holds alcohol, which provides the fuel. You light it, and the flame burns from the wand. You control where it goes. How long it stays. When it stops." She set it down and gestured to the glass containers. "That’s isopropyl alcohol. It serves as the fuel source."
The liquid inside was clear, almost like water.
“Okay.”
"We will use it sparingly. Too much, and the flame burns too long.
Too hot." She pointed to the stack of wet towels.
"If anything goes wrong, these smother the flame immediately.
And the men. . ." she nodded toward the corners, “.
. .they're here for emergencies. But they've never been needed when I run a scene. "
I stared at the instruments. The cotton. The wands. The fuel.
This was real.
This was happening.
"There are rules," Hiroko continued. "And you will follow them exactly."
I nodded.
"Never let the flame linger. Movement is everything. The fire travels across the skin. It doesn't stay in one place."
"Okay."
"Avoid the face. The hair. The groin." She ticked them off on her fingers. "We work on the torso. The arms. The legs. Large muscle groups where the skin is thickest."
My eyes betrayed me. They dropped to Kenji's shorts. To the thick outline of his cock straining against the leather.
Hiroko caught it. "Nyomi."
I put my gaze back on her. "I heard you. No groin."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
"Again, focus on the large muscle groups where the skin is thickest."
"Yes."
"Watch his breathing. Watch his body." Her eyes held mine. "If something is wrong, you'll see it before he says it. His safeword still applies. Though. . ." she glanced at Kenji on the slab and sighed. "I doubt he will use it tonight."
Kenji's eyes were fixed on me.
"You can stop at any time," Hiroko said. "For any reason. Your comfort matters as much as his."
I exhaled slowly and tried to absorb it all.