by Koko Brown
The sound of concern in his voice reminded her of how gentle he always was with her. He always sought to take care of her, meet her needs. It grieved her that her connection to the council had never allowed Oshun to reciprocate in kind.
“Watashi no megami, watashi ni hanashite kudasai.”
God, this man knew her weaknesses. Her mind raced with so many tender moments they’d shared. They were all filled with him working beyond her rough exterior by sharing his heritage with her.
It seemed silly, him speaking to her in Japanese, or him making her traditional Japanese meals shouldn’t have impacted her so greatly. But every time he did, it was as if he were sharing something so special about himself that she couldn’t help but feel proud he’d chosen to expose himself to her.
In their three months together, he’d taught her enough Japanese that she could pick up parts in a conversation to understand general meaning. That phrase specifically, he’d used it consistently when he was attempting to get her to share herself with him.
My goddess, please talk to me.
She remembered the first time he’d spoken those words. She’d asked him why he’d referred to her as a goddess. His response, “I didn’t call you ‘a’ goddess, but ‘my’ goddess. Mine because that’s how I see you, and goddess because Oshun was an African goddess.”
It shocked her that he’d known anything about the history of her name. It shocked her even more that he’d cared enough to learn it on his own without any prodding from her.
Hearing him appeal to the soft spot he knew she had for him made Oshun replace the safety on the gun, and slide it behind the security monitors on the table before she unlocked the door and opened it.
“Mas, calling me your goddess isn’t going to fix this.”
He walked past her, heading directly for her living room. If she’d been smart, he wouldn’t even know what her living room looked like. But, she’d allowed herself to fall so deeply under his spell, she’d permitted him in her home within a month of them meeting. Now, he was comfortable enough in her place that he didn’t need her to escort him to any part of it. Yet another mistake on her behalf she’d have to try to rectify.
“Oshun, you don’t just get to forget about me. Not without some sort of explanation anyway.”
His anger evident by the narrowed slits of his eyes and his squared shoulders held up by his hands positioned on either side of his waist. He was angry, but there was a control to his anger that made her reasonably certain he wasn't there to hurt her.
She shook her head quickly. A week ago, she wouldn’t have thought it possible for Mas to hurt her. But, now that she knew there might be some connection between him and her enemies, she’d be a fool not to consider his ability to bring harm to her.
“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Mas. I told you when we started this I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I’m sorry if the time we spent together made you think otherwise. Moving in together isn’t something I can do.”
He folded his arms across his chest, widened his stance, and licked his lips.
“So, you going ghost is all about the fact that I want you to be more than a piece of ass to me?”
She dropped her eyes to the floor as she nodded her head. Oshun knew full well she was more than just a sex partner to Masaki. He treasured her; it was evident in the way he expertly played her body with the simplest of touches. It was glaringly obvious in the ways he took care of her outside of bed, cooking for her, and showering her with attention and affection whenever they hid behind the walls of each other’s homes.
He stepped closer to her, using his finger to lift her chin, ensuring her gaze was locked on him.
“You don’t believe this bullshit you’re spewing. You may not say it Oshun, but, we both know I wasn’t the only one entangled in this thing between us.”
He dug his fingers through her locks, pulling her mouth to his, slipping his tongue inside as soon as their lips met. His right hand moved deftly up the side of her hip and around her waist, pulling her abruptly against him.
She tried not to crumble, well, at least that’s what she told herself in her head. But the truth was as soon as his lips touched hers, she was willing to do just about anything Masaki wanted.
He removed his hands from her hair and waist, moving them to the front of her button-down top. While his mouth still devoured hers, he pulled the top apart, letting his eager hands cup her lace-covered breasts. He ran his thumbs across her nipples, smiling against her mouth at the shiver he felt pass through her.
When his touch elicited a deep moan of satisfaction from her, he pulled his mouth away from hers. Securing his hands under her arms, he pulled her up until her legs were wrapped around his waist.
He walked them to her bedroom, laying her gently across the cool white linens beneath her. He pushed away from her, briefly taking the inviting warmth of his body with him as he reached for a condom in her nightstand drawer.
He didn’t bother undressing them. He pulled his pants down far enough to pull out his thickening cock and sheath it. He lifted her skirt, and pushed her panties aside with two probing fingers, checking to see if she was ready for him.
The slide of his digits in and out made her walls weep and contract, begging to be filled with something meatier than the lone finger he was using.
She was too turned on to care about how desperate she looked with her legs spread, humping his fingers, begging him for more. Oshun slid her fingers between her lips, swirling them over her sensitized nub.
“You have no idea how much I love watching you touch yourself. How much it turns me the fuck on to watch you get yourself off.”
Yes, she did. As much as she enjoyed masturbating on her own, watching his dark eyes sparkle with desire as he watched her pleasure herself made cumming by her own hand a favorite pastime.
He removed his fingers from her cunt, and waited for her to replace them with her own. She slid her hand under her thigh and inserted one finger inside. She was wet, slick with need, making the one finger slide effortlessly in and out of her. When the single digit wasn’t enough, she added another and moaned at the electric sensation of being penetrated.
Fucking herself on two fingers of one hand while rubbing her swollen clit with the other had her passion cresting. She was about to fall over the edge just as he pulled her fingers out of her and slammed his cock into her.
The feel of his domed cap rubbing against her happy spot in perfect rhythm made her come apart. She could feel her muscles tightening with each squirt of her release. She couldn’t worry about how soaked her sheets would be when they were done. The way he was fucking her, pulling each wave of her orgasm from her, her brain couldn’t muster enough give a damn to worry about anything else other than how good she felt cumming on his cock.
When her legs were quivering from the last shocks of her orgasm, Masaki leaned over, pounding into her, wearing her slick walls out, pushing her over into another orgasm as he reached his own.
When his rhythm faltered, and she felt the swell of his cockhead inside her, she contracted her walls, milking him of his release, the way he’d taken hers.
When he was done, he leaned over, kissing her so sweetly it made her ache for more. He looked into her eyes, chest still heaving from their rigorous fucking, and his breath still a struggle to control.
“What we do,” he gasped. “This isn’t just about sex.”
He pulled out, removed the condom and tossed it into the wastebasket beside the bed. He laid back down, pulling her into his arms, holding her head against his chest.
“Don’t run from us, Oshun. Give me the chance to show you what we could be if we only tried.”
Too tired and satiated to fight, she simply nodded her head, snuggling closer to him. She kept her eyes closed until his even breathing assured her he was asleep.
She untangled their limbs carefully, then set about removing her disheveled clothing, and pulled a long t-shirt from her closet. Once it
was on, she quietly stepped out of the room, closing the door with a soft click. She picked up her cellphone from her desk, and walked out onto the balcony of her living room, closing the sliding door behind her.
Her second answered on the first ring. “What do you need?” Aesop’s question was a loaded one. She needed the man in her bed to not be involved in the middle of this mess she’d found herself in. She needed to be able to care for him without dread looming over her head.
Unfortunately, she couldn't tell her friend that. Instead she decided to end this shit as quickly as possible. She’d sacrificed her life to the game. But for some reason, she wasn’t inclined to sacrifice the connection she shared with Masaki so easily.
Call it love, call it lust, but whatever it was had a hold on her. Enough of a hold that she worried about their ability to survive the hell they’d found themselves in.
“Set up a meeting with the other side. The leader, ‘Sop. He and I are gonna figure this shit out. I want this done. Brownsville almost burned to a crisp last week. We’ve gotta find some middle ground quick before there are more casualties.”
“I’ll get back to you when I have something in place.”
She ended the call and took a deep breath. Brownsville couldn’t suffer any more than it had. And maybe if she settled this shit, she could find a way to keep Masaki out of all of this. Maybe she could find a way to keep him in her life too.
FOUR
Masaki stood at the window in his Flatlands Avenue office, looking at the passing traffic. Watching the blur of vehicles pass one by one calmed him, keeping him settled enough to piece his thoughts together.
“Boss, did you hear me?”
Masaki nodded his reply to a sitting Izzy. He’d heard every word his second had told him. The Brownsville Council was pushing for a summit to discuss a truce.
The balls of this council galled Masaki. They’d terrorized his operation for months, and now they thought they had enough power to bring terms to Masaki. If this call had come a week before, he would’ve ignored it and sent his men in on a rampage instead. But, he and Oshun had moved in together, and she needed him. Starting a war would impede his ability to be there.
She was skittish. She only brought one suitcase full of clothing with her, and she refused to put her house up for sale. He knew she was keeping it as a fall back. Her refusal to sell her home was a just-in-case-this-doesn’t-work-out sort of thing. He wanted to argue it, but, he knew if he pushed, she might bolt.
He couldn’t risk it. He could not give her cause to leave. More and more he noticed the pull this woman had on him. Her presence was enough to make him rethink everything in his life, including how he ran his business.
“Set up the meeting, Izzy. I want this finished,” he answered, his back still facing his second-in-command as he continued to gaze out of the office window.
“You sure you want to go out like this? You give these fools a sign of weakness and they’ll keep coming for you.”
Masaki turned slowly, looking at the man who’d worked beside him for years. Izzy sat in one of two arm chairs facing Masaki’s desk. He was leaning back, legs extended, crossed at the ankles, feet propped up on top of Masaki’s large wooden desk. Izzy was comfortable, too comfortable. A fact that Masaki was noticing with greater frequency over the last few weeks.
Masaki walked over to the desk, sitting next to the spot where Izzy’s feet were resting. He took one long look at Izzy’s feet, and then set his gaze on Izzy. He said nothing, just watched and waited quietly. Masaki noted the moment fear and understanding took root in Izzy’s eyes. The man swallowed deep, as he quickly removed his feet from Masaki’s desk.
“It’s not your job to worry about how I look, Izzy. Your job is to do what I tell you. Now, do it. Set up the meet.”
Izzy nodded his head quickly and left the room. Masaki was certain an agreed upon time would be in the making. These bastards had better be grateful Oshun had come to him in the middle of this ugliness. Without her, he’d burn every inch of this neighborhood to the ground, and watch all his enemies die with the strike of a match.
Oshun’s presence granted this council leniency. She worked in a club that sat in the middle of where the action was happening. A shift in wind direction, and the club could have been set aflame and reduced to ash like the private homes on Mother Gaston Boulevard.
When he’d seen her at the site of the fire, his body went numb with worry. What if she had been walking by that block on her way to work? What if she’d been visiting with some of the residents over there when the fire began. She could’ve been burned, or worse, killed.
A dark weight sat in his belly, spreading dread throughout his system. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to this woman on his watch.
So, if working out a truce with the Brownsville Council made him seem weak, he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was the woman who’d slept in his bed every night this week
“You sure about this, Oshun? I don’t trust these cats. What if they try something?”
Oshun sat in the passenger seat of Aesop’s truck, and tried not to give his words too much weight. He was right. They could be walking into a trap. The Yakuza had demanded there be only four people at the meeting. The two leaders, and their seconds.
She knew agreeing to these terms left her vulnerable, but she couldn’t think about that right now. She’d moved in with a man she couldn’t completely trust until this bullshit was settled.
She’d told herself the best way to find out anything was if she was on the inside. She knew she was lying to herself even as she allowed those words to cross her thoughts. The truth was she could watch Masaki better from her current vantage point as cohabitant, but, if she were honest, she was there because being with him soothed her in a way she hadn’t experienced in quite a long time.
She’d opted out of dating a few years back, realizing there was no room for outsiders in her world. Being with her would only frustrate a man because she couldn’t share her life, or it could place him in danger because he shared ties with her. These decisions were exercises in frustration she just didn’t need, so she’d stuck to one-off hook-ups. A decision she could happily say worked very well for her until she encountered Masaki.
All her instincts told her entangling herself with him was a bad idea. But losing him, losing the way he always made her feel wasn’t something she was ready to do.
Growing up as the daughter of a gangster, being taught from the very beginning that you did what was necessary to get what you needed and wanted, she knew she didn’t deserve the kind of attention and affection Masaki bestowed on her. When your hands were covered in blood, when you had no qualms with taking a life, or indulging in the underworld as a means of survival, you didn’t deserve the kindness Masaki covered her with.
She knew she didn’t deserve it. But, she wasn’t about to let it slip through her fingers either. She was selfish, but that was nothing new. She wouldn’t apologize for it either.
Instead, she’d move forward with this treaty between the two factions. Hopefully, it would bring this pending war to an end, and her people, as well as her heart would be safe from the threat currently looming over their heads.
“I know that, ‘Sop.” She rubbed her hand at the base of her neck, attempting to rid it of the tension building as they neared the meeting spot on Linden Boulevard and Seventy-Eight Street.
“The diner has always been neutral ground, but there’s only one way in and out of it. I don’t know if I like it.”
It was true. The diner at the end of Linden had always been considered a hands-off place. You could eat and drink with your crew, but no hustling could take place on the premises. Most factions adhered to that. Unfortunately, the Yakuza hadn’t been in the area long enough for her to determine if they’d play by the established rules or not.
Aesop slowed down, pulling into the dim parking lot of the diner. She opened her door, and walked around to where Aesop stood on the
driver’s side.
“‘Sop, we don’t have time to worry about all that.”
She grabbed the handle of her gun making sure it was secure in the holster attached to the back of her pants. Satisfied it was fastened, she pulled down the loose shirt she wore to cover the metal bulge.
“You got your piece. I got mine. If some shit pops off, we handle it, just like we always do. You and I have tamed this land. Ain’t no way we can’t get this newbie on the scene under control. You wit’ me?”
Aesop nodded his head and lead the way up the few steps to the diner. To anyone on the outside looking in, Aesop appeared to be an inconsiderate fuck walking ahead of his girl. In reality, he was clearing a path for her, making certain no harm met her before it met him.
When he was reasonably certain the walkway didn’t possess an ambush, he opened the door, stepped through it, and then held it open for her to do the same. Once inside, he followed the hostess to the private room in the back, and Oshun kept pace behind him.
Once inside the private dining room, she continued to stand behind Aesop. When he deemed it safe, she’d step from behind him and walk to their target.
An Asian man, a head shorter than Aesop, stood in front of her companion and talked for a brief moment. Aesop turned around, still crowding her in the small doorway and pointed to her.
“Oshun, this is Izzy. Izzy, Oshun.”
The man wore dark shades inside the dimly lit room. She wondered if he could even see out of those sunglasses. He dipped his head in acknowledgement of the introduction before turning his back to them. He beckoned them with a curled finger.
He walked them through another door, toward a table in the back of the room. When they finally came to a halt, the human wall Izzy and Aesop created in front of her parted, and allowed her to lay eyes on the lone man sitting at the table.
Familiar full lips, tanned skin, and coal eyes stared back at her, making her heart race with a thickened mixture of anger and fear.
