Diary of a Submissive (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 4)

by Kailee Reese Samuels

  “I’ll be screaming your name, so it really can’t be rape.” My mind flurries back to Iris beneath me. I duck my head and grip the bridge of my nose. “Did she scream your name, Sal? Did she cry out for you while you were driving your dick in her hole?”

  I roll my eyes. “Does any of this matter?”

  “Yes!”

  “I’m going now,” I hasten. “Have a good evening.”

  I march towards the door, and she follows.

  I cockily smirk.

  “Is this your idea of a dank noodle bar?” she asks an hour later at one of the latest hip eateries. I feed her bites of my tanuki udon on chopsticks.

  “Careful, I’ll take you to the Yanagi hostess bar.”

  “What is that?” she curiously asks, resting her head on her hand and staring at me. “Should I be concerned?”

  “Just a different way of thinking is all,” I inform. “You’d probably love it. It’s not far from here. Or I could take you over to Kabukichō to visit the red light district, put you on display for a couple of hours, and check into a love hotel where we can listen to people fucking all night while we do the same.”

  “Would you like that?” she questions as I give her another bite. “Because I would.”

  “You know what I would like is a decent fucking blow job from a bitch with a damn fine rack.”

  “Pretty specific request.”

  “What can I say?” I shrug and smile. “I’m a pretty specific kinda guy.”

  “What are you going to do with that?” She points to my jacket and the aforementioned enigmatic envelope of secrets and lies.

  I take a bite, and soup drips over my chin. She giggles and hands me a napkin. I finish chewing and say, “Don’t know yet. You got any suggestions?”

  “I thought about this on the flight over,” she says. “How to kill a shark wearing a friendly dolphin costume…”

  “We’re not having tuna.” Taking a swig of my beer, I snicker. “We have to kill the shark regardless.”

  “What if you went to Nicky?”

  “Problem with that is Nicky and Serene are like a damn seismograph in a 7.9 magnitude earthquake.”

  With a look of genuine concern, she asks, “They aren’t doing well?”

  I shake my head and lick my lips. “Nick is hungry.”

  “And you put kill orders on me, and yet, here I sit…”

  “Too soon to kill you, Amber,” I honestly say.

  She grins. “You won’t ever…”

  “I might if you piss me off,” I rebuke, stroking her trust with flirtation. “Accidents happen.”

  Laying her hand on my forearm, she asks, “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’m going to be fine.”

  “Said no fine person ever.”

  I offer her the egg, and she turns her nose up. I gobble it down, polish off my beer, and move my hands as I say, “Cristos will get what is coming to him.”

  “You believe that much in karma?”

  “Naw,” I dismiss, nibbling on a piece of kamaboko stuck in my teeth. “I am just a relentless motherfucking carnivore.”

  In the back of a taxi, I take her to her hotel and kiss her goodnight.

  Not going backward.

  “Fuck! Yes!” I grip my fist in her hair. “Suck my dick, baby!”

  With a wiggle in my hips, I glance up at the sky, sprinkled with stars, and the canopy of leaves overhead as I grind into her mouth. She welcomes my hard cock without resistance.

  I am her last resort.

  I walked for a long time. I visited the cool spots and landmarks of importance. I ended up meandering to Ginza. The Yanagi took me in like a lost son.

  Despite my request for Oki Hada, she wasn’t working, so I tried chatting up the bartender. I was sipping on my fourth round of double Japanese whiskey, getting schnockered, and enjoying the environment. It was a complex layer of calm and chaos, but it worked for the night. The night I finally said no to the toxicity of one sexy as fuck serpent.

  “Hey, Nero,” Aito said. “There she is.”

  He ran off to help another customer when I felt cold fingers pressing over my eyes. “You asked for me?”

  “Oki,” I muttered as she dropped her hands, and I spun around. Holy crap! She was beautiful in a tangerine-colored dress with her long brown hair down. “You came!”

  She wedged between my legs. “What are you drinking?”

  “Whiskey…you want one?”

  “No,” she said, “Let’s leave.”

  “Finish it,” I replied. She tossed it back. “Thanks, Aito!”

  “Anytime, Nero!”

  Immediately, Oki’s fingers locked into mine. “What are you doing here?”

  “Hanging out,” I said, opening the door. “Doing some business and training with Masa.”

  I was too hung up on shit last time I was here to spend any time with Oki Hada. She was Fumio Hada’s sister. Fumio worked for Morpheus. If there needed to be any more connection, she was also Masa Nakamura’s half-sister—they shared the same mother, Murasaki Hada. Her father was Matsu Goro, founder of the Goro gang.

  Oki was the product of a whore and a hitman, so when I say we clicked.

  I mean we fucking clicked.

  We strolled the streets, catching up, until I asked, “What do you know about Delarte Cristos?”

  “I can’t talk about what is going on, Nero.”

  “With me, you can,” I urged.

  “They will kill me or worse.”

  She didn’t have to tell me what worse was. “Has he been here?”

  “A lot.”

  “With the Goro gang.”

  In the park, she stopped, placed her hands on my shoulder, and encouraged my bending down. She passionately kissed me. “Cristos is going after the Lotus by quietly funding the Goro gang.”

  I nuzzled her neck, playing along and pretending like we were a couple in love or I had paid her well. “He’s not out of the game…”

  Smiling and laying her hands on my chest, she said, “Hardly.”

  “Do you know Stanis?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did they come here together?”

  “Yes, Nero.” Her suggestive tone sent a shiver down my spine as I realized everything in Amber’s envelope was the truth. “I can’t say anything else.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Out of Japan.”

  “Can you go tonight?” I asked.

  She kissed me again. “Yes!”

  “And are you willing to work as a hostess for me?”

  “Yes.”

  I called Dom. I called Vega. We expedited clearance based on an immediate security risk. She had a lot of knowledge concerning Goro, Lotus, Delarte Cristos, and Allegiance, which put her in legitimate grave danger. I didn’t need her housed. We had the means if only we could get her home.

  We went to her tiny apartment, packed her things, and hurried to the airport. Megan would meet her in Dallas and take her back to Dom’s house. They were getting a pet-pet of an Asian hostess, at least for a little while.

  Hey, honey, I brought home another lost puppy I found on the side of the road…had an entirely different meaning in my world.

  I didn’t want Oki Hada for myself.

  But I didn’t want her eyes gouged out, and her fingers severed and shoved in her orifices either.

  Save the girl.

  Always the same dance routine.

  I went back to the hotel suite, crashed on the sofa with my dick in one hand, and the remote control in the other.

  My orgasm is so explosive. I wake up—sweating buckets, breathing heavy, and wondering where the fuck she is.

  66

  Beautiful

  His Butterfly

  We stop in Amarillo for gas and because I have to twinkle…and in Trinidad…and in Colorado Springs…and again right outside of Denver. I must look terrible. Heaven knows I smell bad.

  “It’s cold here.”

  “And snowing,” Kali point
s out the obvious.

  “Shit,” I say as Ho fills up the tank. “I’m not ready for this.”

  “Yes, you are,” she assures. “You’ve come this far. Take it home.”

  “I’m going to drive in the snow,” I say, quavering.

  “Why do you sound like you are terrified?”

  Wrapping my arms around my chest, I whisper, “Because I’ve never done it.”

  “Have you ever driven halfway across the country to take a lover?”

  “No,” I say, understanding how everyone sees this as the ultimate act of betrayal. They think I’m going to have an affair with Deacon, but they don’t know this love is real.

  “Grab it by the balls,” she rallies. “You’ve got this.”

  “Just don’t grab his balls.”

  “Well,” she says, raising a brow. “You might want to do that too. Oh, we got the pictures back from the vehicle following you.”

  “And?”

  “Indecipherable.”

  The distance between Denver and the rehab center hits the hardest as I come to terms with knowing—there is no coming back from this. I won’t be able to undo the kiss from his lips and the touch of his hand.

  If Deacon and I are only engaging in a lusty affair, then I am giving up the love of my life. If I am right and we are in love, then I am giving up my passion for Sal for something wonderful. It is a gamble—a risky fucking venture.

  What girl in her right mind would walk away from Sal Raniero?

  I don’t know that I am in my right mind. All I know is I need Deacon with me.

  Driving through the parking lot, I spot the F-250 and park right behind it. Taking a breath, I peek in the visor mirror. “God, I look like shit.” Grabbing his cut, I put it on along with his Saints ball cap. I blot some coral lipstick on and pinch my cheeks. “Here goes everything.”

  “Be careful,” Kali urges. “The pavement may be slick.”

  “I’m not dumb,” I say.

  “No, but you also didn’t expect it to be cold in Colorado.”

  “It’s April 10!” I boast as snow falls around me.

  “And you, my Chicago girl, are spoiled on humidity.”

  “Damn right!” I grin. “Snow is for making angels.”

  And making love in front of a fire.

  Oh. God.

  Okay, maybe not.

  Let’s not spit in the Master’s face.

  “Good luck, Iris,” she says. “We’re going to check into a hotel.”

  “Thank you.”

  “We’re not leaving until you are in there,” she urges. “Go!”

  I flip the hat up on his hoodie as I pace towards the door. I only try and fall once. The receptionist smiles at me. “Are you looking for Deacon?”

  “Yeah. How did you…” I tug at the lapel on the cut. “Oh, yeah…duh…”

  “He’s on the second floor in the gym waiting on Dale to finish hydrotherapy,” she politely says. “You can take the elevators or the stairs. You can’t miss it.”

  My heart is pounding as I jog up the steps. I haven’t seen him for almost eight weeks. What if this was all a terrible mistake? What if everyone is wrong about how much he loves me?

  I take the final step. The sprawling gym is packed with people, but it doesn’t matter because the guy I want is running on a treadmill by the window. He has no idea I’m watching him.

  He’s soaked in sweat. His hair is long enough to be in a hairband, and his beard is massively full. He hits the stop button and grabs his water bottle and towel.

  With a slight cock of his brow, he grins with a curled lip, and I smile, giving him a moment to adjust to the shock. His sad blue eyes tear up and his skin flushes to pink. He curls his finger and gives me a nod.

  I run.

  And I fly and leap into his arms.

  “What are you doing here, beautiful?”

  “Hello!” Having practiced a million things to say, I declare, “I am in love with you.”

  “… Really now?”

  “Yes,” I whisper. “Madly. Deeply. Crazy as shit kind of love. I don’t want to be without you.”

  “And you just wanted to tell me?”

  “Mhmm.”

  He licks his lips and sets me down. “Hey, Greg! Tell Dale I had to go.”

  “Good deal, Cruz.”

  He smirks at me. “So, you took off your collar and put on a cut?”

  “Yep,” I say. ”And drove sixteen hours.”

  “You drove? How the hell did you get up here?”

  “New Raptor is mean,” I reply as he hits the button for the elevator. “It’s snowing!”

  “Yes, it does that in the mountains,” he snickers, grinning and holding my hand. “So, you stole Sal’s truck and came up here to profess your crazy as shit kind of love?”

  The elevator doors open and we walk inside. He presses the first-floor button, and we ride down. I clutch around his sweaty body. “You’re soaked, and it’s cold out.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he assures. “You following me home?”

  “Yes,” I reply, rubbing my finger over his rings. “If I’m invited...”

  He gives me that look as the doors open and he warns, “I’m going to spank your ass.” We walk by the receptionist and she grins as he says, “Have a good afternoon, Kathleen!”

  “You too, Deacon!”

  “Oh, I plan on it.” We stride out to the trucks. “If you had pulled up any closer, you would’ve bumped them.”

  “I was nervous.”

  “Uh, huh,” he says, hitting the code and helping my ass in the seat. “Follow me, gorgeous.”

  He shuts the door, and on the way to the other truck, he turns back with tears in his eyes again.

  I did the right thing.

  But why hasn’t he kissed me?

  We drive the fifteen-mile jaunt up into the snowy mountains. It’s beautiful, quiet, and so much Deacon—spiritually healing.

  I pull in behind him. He dashes out to open my door. “You did good.”

  “The is one hell of a safe house.”

  “This isn’t the safe house,” he replies, putting his hand on my lower back. “This is my house.”

  “You bought a house?”

  “I did!”

  “Are you staying here for good?”

  He glances over his shoulder. “No, but it was a great piece of property with amazing views, and no one knows where it is.”

  “Good thing I didn’t fly,” I comment. “I’d still be looking for you.”

  “Was I lost?” he teases, unlocking the door. “I hope you like it. If not, I’ll put it on the market tomorrow.”

  Stepping inside, I gasp at the sweeping views of snowy mountains right outside the back wall of windows. “Oh my God…” Massive black and white photographs of important moments and the triumvirate cover the walls. It’s a shock to my heart I don’t expect.

  “… Iris?”

  “Yeah?”

  In his pumped biceps, he picks my ass up and pushes my back against the wall as his lips claim what he wants. His demanding kiss serves as the declaration for his feelings. I must remember—this is Deacon—he is reflective and private. The announcement of his love at the cemetery was a rare moment.

  “I am in love with you too.” He hoists me in his arms and carries me to the spacious Master bedroom upstairs. “I bought this house for one reason,” he says, opening the bathroom doors. The massive spa tub overlooks the mountains. “This view…for you.”

  He sets me on my feet. “Did you know I was coming?”

  “A boy has to believe she’ll come around.”

  He pulls off his wet, long-sleeved workout shirt. His hands slip under the cut, and he tosses it on the bathroom counter. “Do you want anything to drink?”

  “Bubbles…”

  “I just so happen to have two cases of your favorite pink.”

  I notice the lines of his new sweeping back piece—a geisha with a fan in one hand and a sword in the other. The ocean wave
s strike the base of a fiery volcanic mountain backdrop and, at the root of it all, the fine lines of a thin, dripping, lotus mandala and the word Raniero. It is incredible.

  “Deacon,” I whisper, and he spins fast.

  “Yeah?”

  “Your…” I can’t even say it.

  “A boy has to believe.” He grins as I watch him walk to the built-ins in the bedroom. They house a flat-screen and a mini-fridge.

  “You keep my champagne in your room?”

  “Correction,” he says. “I keep two bottles of your champagne in my room.”

  My eyes skim over his physique as he walks towards me. I want to discover every inch of this man. He didn’t run off to the mountains to let himself go. He rebuilt his mental fortitude and his physical stamina after the fall.

  Turning on the water in the tub, he adds a generous amount of bubble bath. The water steams as he licks his lips and inches closer. “I’m going to take off your clothes now.”

  “Okay,” I say, dizzy from staring at him. He unzips the hoodie and pulls the long sleeve RR shirt off from underneath.

  “You were just all decked up,” he proudly mutters. “If we only had RR panties…”

  “I’m not wearing any panties, Saint.”

  “Don’t tell me that,” he warns as his fingers quickly unfasten my jeans, and I flip off my sneakers. “I’ve seen you naked a thousand times, but I’m fucking nervous as hell.”

  “Turn off the water, babe.” He drops to his knees as my hands brush over his taut biceps inked with spiritual narratives—skeletons, lotus, Buddha, and the rosary twisting along the length of his corded forearm. His eyes glance with the question to mine. “Do it.”

  He presses his lips to my belly and slides his hands to the ass of my jeans. They easily slump to my feet. He holds my hand as I step out of them and he rubs his face against my pubic bone. My fingers pull the band from his hair, and his hair grazes against the tops of his shoulders.

  “I am in so fucking deep with you.”

  “You’re not alone, Cruz.” My fingers ruffle through his hair, knowing I will never have enough of this man. We are boundless, limitless, and unconditional in our love. “I have it bad for you.”