“You want this?” he whispered.
She brought a hand to his cheek and nodded. He kissed her, a soft kiss, before lowering his mouth to her body. He trailed kisses to her thighs, parted them, and licked. Deena yelped, gripping the sheets as she thrashed beneath him. Hot waves swept her, drowning her, consuming her in heat. With a flick of the tongue, he’d humbled even her most impassioned dreams, relegating them to mediocrity.
Tak climbed atop her. Her breasts crushed beneath him, soft and round, supple and yielding under hardness. His lips found her mouth again for a soft and sweet kiss, lingering. Deena closed her eyes, relishing maybe, and was met with a thrust. White hot and searing, she let out a sob, as a gush of crimson rushed to meet him.
TAK GASPED. HE was poised above Deena, inserted in her and overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the tightness of her opening and the value of her gift. Never more had he felt the limitations of manhood. He was weakened by her, completely and utterly, by the sight of her silky, undulating body, by the sound of his name on her lips, and by her sensitivity as he eased into the tightest bliss imaginable.
She was whimpering, and God, the sound was driving him mad. He moved against her in slow and staggered strokes, working to forge an opening where none existed. He throbbed in her, pulsing and stirring with the compact fit. He needed her, and yet, he fought to temper his thrusts with tenderness.
Tak was on fire. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, sinking and gripping. Her words were frenzied and incoherent, as frenzied as his strokes wanted to be. She was meeting them now, each one, with an ardor that sent blazes through his body. She said his name until he begged her to stop, certain she’d kill him. And when her body began to quiver and he could hold on no longer, he forged ahead, an apology for his abandon on his lips. Together, they found harmony, fed passion and fueled lust. Together, they found a perfect, yet powerful finish.
DEENA’S BODY WAS damp and her pulse still staggered. She brought a hand to the window. It felt cool to the touch. Her view from the third floor was unimpressive—a pharmacy, a few pedestrians, a billboard for Lion King the Musical. The sky was silver and the ground slate. The rain came in melancholy bursts, sprinkling her windowpane and soaking the earth.
Mid-intersection an umbrella unfolded, looming and bright red in a gray day. It made her think of Tak. He’d slipped into her life like that red umbrella, bursting open in her storm of gray.
Behind her, Tak’s arms slid around her midsection. He found her neck and kissed it. Silently, they stood there, watching the rain fall. And when Deena brought a hand to the window this time, Tak reached for it, covering it with his own.
THEY HAD SEX again before ordering out. Yet, ‘sex’ hadn’t felt like the right word, a sufficient word, for the soul-deep kisses they’d shared and the way their bodies had fused, nor for the glistening glide of skin on skin and how she simply knew this age-old dance. There was soreness and pleasure over and again. His size took some getting used to.
Sitting across from each other on the hotel bed, Tak and Deena dug into cartons of Moo Shu pork with chopsticks. Deena, donned in Tak’s gray UCLA tee, frowned at the food as she picked through it.
“There aren’t any peanuts, Dee,” Tak said, scooping out a thick wad of pork and noodles before dropping it into his mouth.
“Are you sure? I thought I saw one.”
“You didn’t. Now eat. You must be starving.”
A shadow passed over Deena’s face and Tak sighed.
“You can meet her, you know.”
Deena’s gaze found her lap. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Tak smiled. “The last time you said that, it turned out you did.”
He grinned at the rush of color to her cheeks.
“Come on,” he placed a hand over her knee. “I’ll call Bridget, my agent, and you can meet her.”
Deena withdrew her hand. “I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you.”
He returned to his food. “How about we don’t even go down that road? How about you meet her, find out for yourself that she has absolutely no interest in me, nor any other man, and then we get on with our lives?”
Deena’s eyes widened. “What do you mean ‘no interest’? Did something happen to her?”
Tak grinned. “She’s a lesbian. So, she might like you.” He winked.
“I don’t need to meet her.”
He shrugged. “The more I think about it, the more I like it. In fact, I insist the two of you meet.”
This time his grin was met with a pillow to the face.
“You’re such a pig!”
“Your pig now.”
She met his gaze with a shy smile.
Deena stood and went to the cherry wood desk at the rear of the suite. She returned a Fodor’s guide. “I don’t know what we’ll do about our itinerary. We’ve wasted a whole day.”
Tak’s eyebrow lifted comically. “And here I was ready to declare New York the best city ever.”
Deena blushed. “But we haven’t seen anything.”
“Oh, but I’ve seen it all.” He blew her a kiss.
She hurled the book at him and Tak ducked. “You’re getting violent, Dee. Can’t say I approve.” He returned to his Moo Shu pork.
“Tak! We’ve only got two days here. We need to make plans.”
He turned his carton upside down and shoveled the last of the food into his mouth. “How’s this?” He stood, tossed the white box into a wastebasket, and headed for the bathroom to wash his hands. “How about we stay here a few more days. Two, three, five, I don’t care. Then afterwards, if we can, we squeeze in one or two more places on the way home.”
Deena frowned. “If that’s what you want.”
“No,” Tak said, returning to the bed. “We’ll stay longer if that’s what you want. Whatever makes you happy.”
They were the first time she’d ever heard the words. She found they fell oddly on her ears, like the sound of her name being pronounced as though it had a short “e” instead of the long. She understood what they meant, but still, it was bizarre.
“Let’s see how it goes,” Deena murmured.
Tak nodded, stood again. “Great. Anyway, tomorrow night my cousin’s dropping by.”
“Cousin? What cousin?”
Tak laughed. “Why? Is there one you know?”
“No. It’s just—” Deena fell silent.
“My cousin, John. The one I’m always telling you about? He’s at Columbia.”
Deena stared at the bedspread. His cousin. His family. She raised her gaze. “What about Daichi?”
“What about him?”
“Won’t he find out that we were here? Together?”
Tak shook his head. “No. He and John aren’t exactly text message buddies.”
Deena watched him as he pulled on a close-fitting chocolate tee and a pair of relaxed jeans. “But still. You told me a long time ago that your father was like my family in some ways. That he wouldn’t approve of you dating a girl who wasn’t Japanese.”
“So?”
“So, I’m not Japanese.”
Tak sighed. “It’ll be fine. Trust me. When you meet John, you’ll understand.”
“What in the world does that mean?”
“Well,” Tak said. “He’d be a fine one to talk. Considering he’s only half Japanese.”
DEENA DIDN’T NEED to be told that the tall and sinewy man with silky black hair was John Tanaka. The square face, heavy-lidded eyes and broad mouth all gave him away. They were mirror images, Tak and John, albeit with subtle differences. John’s eyes were a honey brown, whereas Tak’s were near black. John’s skin was like porcelain, Tak’s soft wheat. And where John wore his hair in a short and conservative comb-back, Tak’s was blunted with a razor and constantly in his eyes.
Tak swept John into a hearty embrace before holding him out at arm’s length.
“You’re looking more and more like your father,” Tak said.
John grinned. “Those late-nig
ht pan pizzas must be showing.” He patted his washboard stomach.
“I’m thinking it’s the receding hairline.”
“What!” John cried.
He pounced, but Tak was ready and swept him into a headlock. The two laughed as they tumbled about the suite, as John tried his damnedest to get free.
Deena rolled her eyes and turned to the blonde near the door. She was a saucer-faced girl with gooseberry eyes, short with slight curves. Once it became clear that no introductions were forthcoming, Deena strode over to the woman.
“I’m guessing you’re Allison.” She extended a hand. “John’s girlfriend?”
The girl nodded.
“And you’re Deena? Tak’s girlfriend?”
It was news to her. But she liked the sound of it.
“Are they always like this?” Deena asked, peering at the two men, their wrestling match now down to the carpet.
Allison sighed. “John’s rowdy, but—Tak brings out the worst in him.”
“So, I should expect more of this?”
“Basically,” Allison said.
The two men stood and dusted themselves off.
Tak clapped his younger cousin on the back. “John, I swear, you never get tired of getting your ass kicked.”
“What? I’m guessing you need medical attention right now. Don’t be too proud to seek it out.”
John turned to Deena and smoothed out the white polo shirt he wore. “John Tanaka,” he extended a hand.
Deena took it. “Deena Hammond. Pleased to meet you.”
John shook his head. “The pleasure is all mine. Finally, I meet the great warrior that has conquered Takumi Tanaka,” he lowered his head. “I am honored.”
Deena giggled. “I don’t know if ‘conquered’ is the right word.”
“Trust me. It is.”
Tak sighed. “And if you ever wondered whether John could keep a secret,” he nodded towards Allison, “here’s your answer.”
“What! With all the secrets I’ve kept for you? You ungrateful louse.” John grabbed him and the two tumbled to the floor.
ALLISON, WHOSE FATHER taught international law at Columbia and her mother economics at NYU, was a pert and saucy blonde with Jersey panache. John, on the other hand, had Tak’s predisposition towards silliness, and, seemingly, Daichi’s hunger for success. Deena decided that she liked them both. She liked them a lot.
It was past noon, and the two should’ve been out in the city, seizing the day. Instead, they were in bed, having risen only to accept room service, with no more than a passing desire to leave. They were like two colts at play, him nuzzling her, teasing her with exaggerated kisses, her squealing, pretending not to enjoy it. When he stopped, it was only because her phone rang.
“My grandmother,” she said.
Tak collapsed on the bed with a groan. “Don’t answer,” he said even as she opened the phone. Emma Hammond never had good news. Never.
“Chile, where you been?” Emma cried. “I’ve been calling you since yesterday!”
Deena sighed. “I’m in New York. Is everything okay?”
“No! Everything ain’t okay! That sister of yours was around here tussling with Keisha behind something, and that’s on top of the fact that there ain’t no food in the house.”
No food? Her grandmother received welfare, food stamps, income from the VA and four hundred dollars a month from Deena. All that to support her and a girl who was never there.
Deena glanced at her watch, noting the date. “Didn’t your check from the VA come? Grandpa’s pension?”
“Girl, who do you think you are, asking me about that? And if it did come, it ain’t for me to be spending on that fast ass sister of yours.”
No, that’s what the welfare, food stamps and everything else is for, Deena thought. She sighed.
“You should have something, Grandma. Did you use up all the emergency money, too?”
Emma sucked her teeth. “Chile, that money been gone. Two Sunday dinners ate through dat.”
“Sunday dinner! You weren’t supposed to treat the whole family with that. It was supposed to be for necessities for you and Lizzie.”
“Chile, you act like you left some big-time money.”
“I left four hundred dollars extra. That’s eight hundred this month. It’s not a lot, but it was all I could afford.”
“Yet you got money for New York.”
Deena sat up with a sigh. “So basically, you’re calling for more money? Right?”
“That’s it. I need you to bring more money over.”
“Grandma, I can’t bring it. I’m in New York.”
“Well, how the hell am I supposed to get it?”
Deena shook her head. “See, this is why I tell you to get a bank account. You listen to Caroline, who’s always going to these predatory lenders. How do you function like this?”
“I don’t need no bank account! Mr. Evans up at the liquor store cash whatever kinda check you got. Been cashing my checks for thirty-something years. So don’t tell me about no bank.”
“I bet Mr. Evans has a bank account.”
“How I’m supposed know what Mr. Evans got?”
“Well anyway, I can’t wire money to Mr. Evans at the liquor store.”
“Then you just gonna have to come back then. Cause we out of money.”
Deena thought about the cities that lay ahead—Philadelphia, Baltimore, D.C. She thought about all the moments they’d shared—the Waffle House in Atlanta, the Arch and Screamin’ Eagle in St. Louis, Lake Michigan in Chicago, and of course, him making love to her in New York. And as her grandmother shouted, her eyes began to water even as her veins turned to steel.
“Grandma, I’m nowhere near Miami. I could wire you some money, but—” Deena brought a hand to her face.
“Listen. I don’t deal with nobody but Mr. Evans. Now, unless you gone get this money to him, you need to find yourself another idea.”
Deena wiped her face. She was forever tethered to this family, forever a Hammond. She should’ve known that she could never get away with such freedom; that she could never get away with happiness.
Tak touched her shoulder. “Call her back, Dee.”
She looked at him and turned away. He repeated himself, sterner. “Call her back.”
“You want to ask me about this little bit of money I got. You wouldn’t even have nothing if it wasn’t for me! You want to be selfish and talk about what you are and ain’t gonna do?”
Tak took the phone from Deena and hung up.
She stared at him, eyes shimmering.
“She wants me to come home now.” Deena swallowed. “She needs more money but she won’t let me wire it because she doesn’t trusts banks and—and—”
“And do you want to go home?”
She drew back, horrified. How could he even ask her that? After all this? All that’s happened?
“No. Of course not.”
“Then stay.” He tossed the phone onto the bed.
“But she needs money. She needs me.”
“She doesn’t need you. What she needs is a lesson.” He swung his legs out from the bed and stood. “Show her how valuable you are. That you’re not at her beck and call.”
Deena lowered her gaze. Lowered it because she knew that she was.
“All right, have it your way. If she really needs money, then we’ll wire her some.”
“But my grandmother doesn’t have a bank account! And—and she’d never go to Western Union. She only deals with Mr. Evans at the liquor store.”
Tak’s gaze narrowed. “No one who needs money would put so many stipulations on how they get it.”
Deena sighed. “Well, it’s not like I want to go. I want to stay here. With you.”
His face hardened. “Then do that. Call her back and tell her we’re wiring money to a Western Union. She can pick it up if she wants to, or not.”
Deena looked at him doubtfully. Sure, it made sense, but, well…she just didn’t know.
> “Tak, please. I’m not strong like you. It’s hard for me to stand up to people.”
He sighed. “What’re you talking about, Dee? You’re as strong as they come. Just look at all that you’ve done with the little you’ve had.”
She shook her head, slowly. He just didn’t understand. This was Grandma Emma. Telling her no meant…well, she didn’t know what it meant.
Tak stood. “Listen to me. Life’s not fair, believe me, I get that. And I know a lot of things have been beyond your control,” He rounded the bed to her. “But not this. You decide how this turns out. For better or worse.”
WITH THE HUDSON River at their side, the sun was hot and obnoxious. It was a pleasant day, especially warm for New York, warm enough even to shirk sleeves. The Tanaka cousins were walking side-by-side, steps ahead of their love interests, and speaking in hushed tones.
“You seem to be taking life a little more seriously these days,” John said as they strolled.
Tak shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know if ‘more seriously’ is the term I’d use.”
John raised a brow. “I would. The last time I saw you, your biggest gripe was that Ferrari had discontinued the 360. We’ve been out here for half an hour now and you haven’t mentioned your car, your art or a piece of ass once.”
Tak grinned. “So, how’s that weird ass brother of yours?”
“Good, I suppose. Still in Seattle. Ma’s ready for him to settle down.”
“Yeah…Good luck with that.”
“I know, I know,” John rolled his eyes.
While his older brother was similar in appearance to him and Tak, he still managed to diverge from them radically. The bulky black frames, the pointed and protruding ears, the inexhaustible supply of tucked-in screen tees—Ghostbusters, Marvel Comics, Star Trek—good Lord, he had enough Star Trek stuff to stock a novelty shop.
“Mike’s of the opinion that he’ll meet a beautiful woman with a brain to match his,” John said.
Tak frowned. “I’m not sure there is a brain to match his,” he said, considering his cousin’s near perfect SAT score.
Crimson Footprints Page 11
