“Will you let me give it to Anna? She can punch the image into the computer and trace it.”
“She won’t find anything,” he said. “This is an inner circle pin. The kind that only those close to the Oyabun have.”
“Then how do you recognize it?” she asked.
“Because this pin was mine.”
The most fundamental way a woman can misunderstand a man—and the misunderstanding with the most far-reaching consequences—is to think that she can understand him at all…
—Mark Leyner
T
he words of Mark Leyner danced through her mind as she stared at Daniel. “You mean you had one like it?”
“No, this was my pin. See this chip in the paint on the side?”
“Yes.”
“I can remember the scuffle I was in when that happened.”
“How deep where you in the Yakuza?”
“Deep enough not to answer any of your questions.”
“Daniel. This isn’t just about trusting me…this is about your safety.”
She stopped leaning against the sink and stepped forward to implore him to tell her everything. And the plane hit an air pocket, driving them both off balance.
Daniel reached for her, steadying her with a hand on her arm. But they hit a second one, throwing her body into his.
He fell backwards, landing on the bed. His hands came to her waist, holding her against him. She put her hands on his shoulders, lifting her upper body so she could see him.
“Finally I have you in my bed,” he said, holding her firmly and rolling until he was above her. His hips settled between her thighs; his arms braced on either side of her body kept his weight from crushing her.
She could have countered his move. Could have rolled him back under her, but she didn’t want to. In this moment, close as they were, she saw something in Daniel’s gaze that she hadn’t really glimpsed before. A touch of real emotion.
“I thought you were going to tell me more about the pin.”
“Do you really want to talk?” he asked.
He traced his finger over her cheekbone and then down over her lips. “I can’t believe that someone so beautiful can be so lethal and yet at the same time so real.”
She closed her eyes because he was too close and his words touched her deeply. Maybe he didn’t mean them to have any weight beyond a means to seduce her. “It’s just a physical arrangement of features…something my parents passed on to me through their DNA.”
His touch moved from her lips to her eyebrows, tracing each one. Then she felt the warmth of his breath and his lips against her skin. His mouth moved in the same path his fingers had down the side of her face.
Her lips tingled as he neared her mouth. Her eyes opened and she watched him as his tongue brushed over her lips, tracing the seam between them. She parted hers, inviting him to come closer.
He lowered his head and she arched her back so she could respond better to his kiss. Tipped her head to the side so their mouths fit perfectly. A tingle of excitement shot down her spine and she reached up, gripping his shoulders as his mouth moved over hers.
This kiss was different from the ones they’d shared earlier. They had been about him proving to her that he didn’t need a woman as a bodyguard or about her proving that she could handle him. But this was a sharing.
A sharing of something she couldn’t define and didn’t want to.
She wanted to just close her eyes and let herself be swept away by the passion that Daniel felt for her. And it
was
for her. Daniel saw the real woman behind all the smoke and mirrors.
She pushed her hands into his thick hair, holding him to her while he plundered her mouth with his lips and tongue.
His hands swept down the sides of her body, skimming over the curves of her breasts and lingering at her nipped-in waist. One of his hands slid between their bodies and she felt again that minute touch of his fingers sliding over her skin, tracing the deep vee of her blouse.
His fingers skimmed over the rounded globes of her breasts, slipping beneath the fabric so she felt the heat of his touch on her bare skin.
She bit her lower lip as he found his way under the fabric of her bra. But he stopped then, letting his fingers rest against her left breast. Anticipation had her arching her back, offering herself to him. But he held still, waiting for something she couldn’t define.
She looked up at him and their gazes met. Her breath left her in a rush and something passed between them.
“Take off your shirt,” she said. She’d been longing to see his chest since that first little aikido encounter in his hotel suite. There was strength in Daniel—real strength. She’d been going out with senators and businessmen for too long.
No one like Daniel. She wanted to experience everything she could in the short time they had together. And she didn’t kid herself about that. They were essentially too different for this to last.
She started to pull back, to draw away from him, but then he shifted his weight to his left arm and reached between them, the backs of his fingers brushing her breasts as he unbuttoned his shirt. She shook from the brief contact and bit her lip to keep from asking for more.
His chest was hairless and free from tattoos or piercings but it wasn’t smooth. There were scars. One long, jagged one ran over his left pec. She traced the rough skin where it looked like someone had tried to cut out his heart.
She lifted her eyes to his, questions burning on the tip of her tongue, but he quieted them with his finger on her lips. “Not now.”
She lifted her head and found the tip of that scar with her tongue. She pushed against his shoulders and rolled to his side, lying next to him on the bed. She traced the scar with her finger and then feathered light kisses over it. It was thick and she knew from experience that it would have been deep and painful.
“Knife wound, right?”
“Yes, how did you know?” he asked, his fingers on her face while she caressed his chest.
“Tough cookie, remember? And I have one like this,” she said.
“Show me.”
She tugged her blouse from the waistband of her skirt and lifted the hem so he could see. She’d gotten the wound her first night in Kobe, but she didn’t want to dwell on that. As soon as she lifted her blouse, Daniel rolled her under him again.
He skimmed his fingers over her scar and then lowered his head to taste it. He used the edge of his teeth as well as his tongue, and for the first time ever she found her scar to be sexy and desirable.
She didn’t dwell on the fact that she was starting to believe that Daniel might just be the kind of man who accepted her—really accepted every part of her.
Daniel concentrated on seducing Charity and tried to ignore the pain he felt at the thought of her being knifed. He knew she could handle it. She’d proved throughout the day that she was tough as they came, but a part of him…okay, all of him, wanted to find the bastard who had hurt her and rip him apart.
What the hell was that? He wanted her in his bed because she was gorgeous and he wasn’t in the habit of denying himself anything he wanted. Why did he care about her? Hell,
did
he care about her?
He looked down into those crystalline gray eyes of hers and knew he did. He tried to force himself back into the moment, but even sex couldn’t detract from this. He didn’t care about anyone. Not really, but suddenly here she was, and he did.
Not now, he thought.
“Daniel?”
“Hmm?” he said, lowering his head to kiss the base of her neck. He hated talking, especially now. The scent of her skin was like a potent aphrodisiac and he breathed her in.
He imagined he was inhaling her strength and beauty. Imagined that he was taking her into his skin and making her his own. And that was the only place she could really stay with him—in his imagination. He was meant to walk a solitary path in this life.
He unbuttoned her blouse, running his finger down the center of her body. Over her sternum and between her ribs. Lingering on her belly button and then stopping at the waistband of her skirt.
He slowly traced the same path upward again. This time his fingers feathered under the demi-cups of her ice-blue bra. Barely touching her nipples, but they both beaded. A shaft of desire pierced him, shaking him to his core.
Blood pooled in his groin, making him hard. He laid his hand over her breast and felt the beating of her heart, swift and strong. She scraped her fingernails lightly down his chest. As he moaned, the sound rumbled up from his chest.
Sex always made him feel powerful. Watching a woman react to the body he’d honed and kept in optimum shape was a powerful rush. But Charity was his match. She was soft where a woman should be, but her muscles were also defined. There was real strength in her body.
And he wanted to lose himself in it.
She nudged him onto his back and he fell to his side and let her explore.
His muscles jumped under her touch. He tried to hold still and not reveal anything, but doubted he succeeded. All she’d have to do is glance down at the erection straining against his pants.
She circled his nipple with her fingernail, tracing the line where it met the smooth skin of his chest. Then she scraped her nail down the center line of his body, following the fine dusting of hair that narrowed and disappeared into the waistband of his pants.
“No need to ask if you like my touch,” she said, a little breathlessly.
“I do,” he said, sitting up and drawing her into his arms. She straddled his lap and when her center met his cock, he groaned deep in his throat.
He reached around her back and unhooked her bra and then pushed the cups up out of his way. He pulled her closer until the tips of her breasts brushed his chest.
“Charity.” He said her name like a prayer, holding her against him.
She shifted on his lap, but he held her still. His hard-on nudged at her center. He shifted her around until he could get his hands under that short skirt that had been driving him crazy since the first moment they’d met.
Her legs were smooth and soft, and as he skimmed his hands upward, he encountered a sheath holding a knife wrapped around her left thigh. It shouldn’t have been a turn-on but it was.
He kissed his way down her neck and bit lightly at her nape. She shuddered, clutching at his shoulders, grinding her body harder against him.
“God, baby, I want you,” he said against her skin.
“Me, too.”
He stopped caressing the flesh around her knife and slid his hands higher. Encountering the cool skin of her buttocks, he traced the crease between them down to her honeyed center. The gusset of her panties was damp with her desire. He traced the opening of her body, her wetness branding his skin.
Her mouth opened over his and he told himself to take it slow, to make this last, because he knew that he wasn’t going to have another chance to be alone with her. When they landed in Seattle he was going to have to push her away so Sekijima couldn’t use her against him.
But all he wanted was to pull her closer, and right now he could. And did.
He slipped one finger into her channel and felt her clench against him. Her hips shifted, so he slid deeper into her.
She captured his face, tipped his head back, and kissed him, her tongue thrusting into his mouth as he added a second finger to the first inside her body. She rocked against him and he pushed himself deeper into her humid core.
He used his thumb to find the pleasure of her center and stroked her as she rocked against him. He was so hot and hard he thought he was going to burst when she caught his lower lip between her teeth, biting carefully as she rocked harder against him.
He used his free hand to cup her butt and urge her to a faster rhythm, guiding her motions against him. He bent his head and his tongue stroked her nipple, and then suckled her.
Everything in her body clenched. She clutched at his shoulders, rubbing harder and tightening around his fingers as her climax washed over her. She collapsed against his chest as he held her close.
Daniel had never seen anything more beautiful than the woman in his arms. She was so responsive to his touch and he wanted more.
She tried to push his shirt off his shoulders, but he rolled her under him so she couldn’t. His arms and back were covered with traditional Yakuza tattoos. Two large dragons battled for supremacy on his back and arms. His chest had never been tattooed. He’d been planning to get one, but had gotten out of the gang to start his new life before he had any ink done there.
“I want to feel your naked skin against mine,” she said.
“Stay on top and you will.”
“I don’t take orders,” she said.
Her breasts were full and her skin flushed from her recent orgasm. He ran his hands slowly over her torso, almost afraid to believe she was really in his arms.
Her nipples were tight little buds beckoning his mouth. He’d barely explored her before and he needed to now. He needed to find out how she reacted to his every touch. He caught both her wrists in his hands and brought them behind her back, holding them in one of his hands so that her breasts were bare in front of him and there was nothing she could do about it.
“That’s perfect.”
“Daniel, let me get my arms free,” she said.
“Not yet.”
He pulled her to him and lifted her slightly so her nipples brushed his chest. Holding her carefully, he rotated his shoulders and rubbed against her. Blood roared in his ear. He was so hard, so full right now that he needed to be inside of her body.
“Daniel, please. I want to touch you.”
He realized then that there was something very fragile inside this ultracompetent and professional woman. He pulled her more fully into his arms, cradling her to his chest with one arm. She closed her eyes and buried her face in his neck. Each exhalation went through him. God, he wanted her.
He was so hard and hot for her that he was afraid he might come in his pants. But he was going to wait. Then he felt the minute touches of her tongue against his neck.
He also felt the bite of her nails against his own wrist. Charity wasn’t going to just let him dominate her, and he liked that. She was his equal here in bed. He brought both hands to her back, lacing their fingers together to keep her where he wanted her. But when she rotated her hips against his, he knew he wanted more.
He wanted her naked in his lap. He let go of her hands and reached under her skirt and drew her panties down her legs. She shifted to one side and then the other until he had them free of her body, her breasts swaying with the movement.
She still wore her shoes and her knife sheath. Her skirt was bunched at her waist. She slid her hand down his chest, unfastened the button at his waistband, then lowered his zipper.