He caught the towel and she laughed, walking into the kitchen. He heard the clatter of pans and smelled the heat of a propane fueled flame. When she didn’t return, he walked into the small bathroom and looked around, smiling at the row of orchids along the broad sill of the open window. Plants flourished at her touch.
The shower stall was small, and rather than being lined with brittle plastic or salvaged tile, it was tiled with rock—round river rocks on the walls, flat, shimmering granite on the floor. There was no retaining divider from the rest of the room, the water ran from the shower to a drain on the floor. It probably led to a recycling tank. Or even straight out to the bay.
Once under the frigid water, Aiden saw the point in showering as quickly as possible. He was still hot and sweaty from their journey through the underbelly and upper reaches of Wharf. The cold water nearly sizzled on his overheated skin.
He thought back to that rooftop kiss, the press of her body against his, and for a brief moment his cock made a valiant effort to stand forth against the chill of the water, only to retreat. He laughed quietly.
The need in his heart lingered.
He quickly toweled off and wrapped himself in a robe she’d left hanging on the door. It was navy blue silk, delicately painted with white cranes. He slipped on a pair of scuff sandals she’d left outside the door. Annie was such an interesting blend of cultures with her Japanese slippers and bonsai, her Chinese robes and rooftop shrine to General Kwan. Kwan was the protector of martial artists and soldiers. The General stood guard over his home as well.
Aiden toweled his hair and then finger-combed his thick curls. They’d be unruly regardless of how he dried them so he just let them coil in on themselves. Lisa had kept him in neat trim. He’d grown sloppy over the years. It had been a while since he cared what he looked like. Suddenly, it seemed important again.
Annie had disappeared. He heard noise in what he assumed was the kitchen and pushed through the door.
“Is pasta okay?”
A pot of water boiled violently on the stove. There was a deli container of Parsottie’s Best Marinara on the counter. He grinned. It was three a.m. and she was cooking.
His stomach rumbled.
Once the pasta was ready, they took their plates to a table by a window. They ate while looking out over the rooftops to the bay. He could see Oakland gleaming across the water. Alcatraz Island was a dark smudge in the night. The view was as elegant as that of a top rated restaurant.
“So, what do we do next, Chen?” She soaked up a bit of red sauce on a crust of bread and looked at him expectantly.
“Fighting or the investigation?” He decided to forget his refusal to help. Now he was invested in the hunt. And he was intrigued.
“Both. I think it came out to look at me. Maybe it remembers me from before. The last body was a week ago. We’ve got about three days.” Greene’s people had complied a rough profile. The thing was killing about every ten days.
That wasn’t much time. Annie was in rough shape from that last fight. She needed time to recover. But how else were they to track and lure the killer?
“There’re matches almost every night in the City. I could talk to some people.” He looked down at his plate, unhappy to bring up the topic of another fight.
“Okay, but aren’t the City fight a little high stakes for me?”
“Not you. Me.” He looked at her. “It’s after me, isn’t it?”
Annie looked stricken. So, she did care, and more than a little. Or maybe she was still locked in her terror of the beast. She set down her fork and folded her hands on the edge of the table. In all their hours of training and preparation, they’d both ignored the fact that he wasn’t just a coach, he was a fighter. An elite fighter. Many didn’t survive the City matches.
“It’ll be good, Annie. Out there, I won’t be the only target. And I’ll have you free to watch my back.” It made sense. And it kept her safe a little longer.
She bit her lip, and he fixated on her sweet, bee-stung mouth. She wasn’t wearing make-up, but her lips were rose-red, her teeth straight and white. She looked up, saw him staring and even in the dim light, he saw color rise to her cheeks. He looked away, out the window. Cool breeze swept in, ruffling his hair.
Lisa would never have allowed him to let it grow so long. Annie liked it. He’d caught her looking more than once. She was looking now.
She cleared her throat and picked up her fork. Her vulnerable moment had passed. “I’m just not that familiar with the City. I’d have a better chance hunting it here in Wharf.”
“Then I can look for a match here. Tell folks I’m getting back to the alleys, looking for raw talent. Would that work for you?”
“Yes, that would be better.”
She still looked troubled. Her black hair was damp. It tumbled down her white silk robe in an inky spill. She looked at him fully. “Why’d you come back to Wharf? You and Lisa had such a nice place in the City. You really didn’t grow up here.”
“Yeah, I did. Not full time -- I spent more time with my mom outside the walls. But the time with my dad’s family was good. I learned boxing outside, kung-fu in Wharf.”
She didn’t release him from that steady gaze. Aiden felt his heart begin to beat faster. The light from the tiny lantern cast an intimate halo around the two of them. Truth beckoned like the song of a siren.
“Why did you come back, Aiden?” Her tone would allow no lies. And he no longer had the heart to be less than honest.
“I came back to be close to you.” His throat tightened around the words, but she heard him.
She sat perfectly upright, her face hidden by shadow.
“I told myself I hated you, Annie, that I’d watch you and someday make you pay. And I did watch you. I’d come in from a fight and sit on a ledge somewhere, watching you on the roof as the sun came up. You were beautiful and perfect and made me see how meaningless my life had become. And I thought I hated you.”
“Do you love me?”
His breath caught. His chest tightened. How had they come to this place? He sat still and rigid, unable to read her. She gave no sign. No clues.
“I came back because I loved you. I started fighting because I wanted to die of guilt. I took the nanites because death was out of the question.”
His voice was soft, threaded with anger. “I fought angry once, back in the beginning. I was angry and careless. My opponent crushed my ribs. I was bleeding out, choking on my own blood. There were no medics. No doctors. A coach offered me life. And when I thought of life, I thought of you. So I took the injection.”
He gazed down at the shadows on the table. Her hand was clenched into a fist, her only expression of emotion.
“Is that what you wanted to hear, Annie? Does that answer your question?”
Her fist unclenched. He watched her hand as it slowly slid across the table. She covered his hand with hers, twisting until their fingers were entwined. His fingers clasped convulsively on hers. He pulled them to his mouth, kissing softly.
“Yes, Aiden. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
Chapter Six
She stood and the shadows fell away with her robe, unveiling grace and delicate beauty. He’d seen her nude before but now she was revealing herself to him, for him. Aiden felt blood rush to his cheeks. His neck grew warm. He took a deep breath. Air filled his lungs as blood filled his cock. He pushed his chair back from the table, watching in fascination as Annie moved around, coming to stand before him.
Annie straddled his hips, settling herself onto his lap. She lifted her hands, stroking the skin of his face, touching a curl, trailing a finger down his ear. “I’ve always wanted to touch your hair, to see what it felt like.”
“And how does it feel?”
She reached up, running her fingers through the mass. “I thought it would be coarse but it isn’t. If you grew it long, it’d be wavy, not curly.”
“It’d be a mess.”
She smiled, never taking her eyes aw
ay from his hair. His hands trembled slightly as he tentatively settled them on her waist, stroking down to her hips. This intimacy felt unfamiliar. He felt too exposed. Fucking he could understand. This slow exploration was like a drill to his heart.
“You’ve always seemed so magical to me. Your face is Chinese, but so much more.” She traced his lips with the pads of her fingers. Her skin was rough from hours of hard work, and the skin of his lips was smooth and tender. Carefully, she leaned forward, settling an exploratory kiss on his mouth. She shifted a bit, and Aiden’s cock rose, hard and ready, sliding up under the silk of his robe.
She was slightly higher than he was, turning her face down to his as she deepened the kiss, her tongue entering his mouth, exploring, taking. She broke away on a gasp as his hand rose, cupping a soft breast, his fingers brushing the nipple to erection.
His skin was so dark against hers, his hand large and hard, contrasting with the pale skin of her body. The faint light robbed them of color. There was only dark and light. Opposites.
“Yin and Yang.”
He looked up at her in surprise. “What?”
“Look at us. We’re opposite, you and me. But it’s the other way, you’re dark, like Yin, and I’m light, like Yang.”
He smiled and lowered his head to her breast, breathing against a puckered nipple. “Are you saying I’m female energy?” He licked, swirling his tongue over her nipple, feeling it rise against his tongue. She drew a shaky breath and held his head to her breast.
“No. No, you aren’t female at all, are you?”
In answer, he rolled his hips, sliding his silk-covered cock into place, stroking between her damp, pink lips. “You have no hair down here.”
“I like the way it feels.”
He growled his arousal, his hand sliding down, running over the silky smoothness of her mons. Further back, he worked his fingers between her silky lips, biting her nipple lightly, smiling as he felt an answering surge of moisture on his fingertips.
Aiden raised his head, buried his face into her neck, nibbling and kissing the tender skin there. She was so soft! He knew he’d found a sweet spot when she sighed and moaned. He pulled away, returned to her lips, kissing her ardently. He cupped her bottom, rolling their hips together, letting her ride his lap. His head spun, his breath came in uneven bursts.
She broke the kiss. “Wait…”
She pushed back, standing, and unbelted his robe, letting it fall away from his body. He was muscular but lean. It amazed her that this beautiful body of his took so much punishment. There was a small scar over his hip; that had come from a domestic disturbance call. The victim had suddenly turned on her rescuers, attacking Annie with a knife as she cuffed the woman’s drunken husband. Aiden had saved her life that night, intercepting the attack, getting cut himself.
She surveyed his body, seeing the small scars of youth and childhood, but nothing newer. Nothing recent to mark the ugly turn his life had taken. His cock rose long and dark from a thatch of black hair. His balls dropped heavily beneath the shaft. Annie carefully drew his legs apart and knelt between them, exquisitely aware of the supplicant posture she assumed.
Aiden’s body grew rigid. His dark eyes fairly blazed with heat. When she took his shaft in hand, he shivered.
“My God, Annie!” He jumped when her mouth slid over the head of his cock. Inwardly, Annie smiled. She was in the pose of submission, but held all the power at this moment.
He was big, bigger than she could comfortably take in, so Annie clasped his shaft, giving long, smooth strokes as she suckled and licked at the head of his cock. She tasted the salty tang of pre-come, smelled the musk of his arousal as he became more excited. Aiden slid forward in the hard wooden chair, giving her more access to his body.
Annie fondled his balls with her free hand, teasing up behind the delicate orbs, the tips of her fingers pressing his anus. He flinched, and gasped, and she pulled her head back, looking up at him. “Is this okay?” The tip of her finger pressed in a tiny bit, playing with that tight circle of muscle.
He nodded. “Not too much though, just there…” His words trailed off on a sigh as she pressed a moist finger to his back entrance, her mouth returning to his balls. Annie felt his muscles contract on her finger rhythmically. His balls began to grow tight to his body. Annie looked up. The expression on his face made her heart stand still. Lust and want, certainly, but a look of wonderment and love had settled over his face. Love for her.
Aiden pulled her upward, shifting back in the chair, and she settled over his lap. This time no silk came between them. She was wet. His flesh had a silkiness of its own. He’d almost come undone when she’d knelt between his knees, and she’d almost come undone at his reaction to her.
“Take me,” he whispered, hands on her hips as he lifted her. Annie settled her hands on his shoulders and lowered herself. He held his cock steady as her melting warmth encompassed him. His eyes dropped shut. She braced herself, hands on his shoulders, and felt him shudder. She rose and lowered again, her movement slightly limited by her position over the chair. He tilted her hips forward, helping her move a bit more freely.
Together, they surged once more, coming to a stop once he’d fully penetrated her. They sat that way, as though stunned at what they had done. Aiden pulled her close, she marveled at the iron-hard muscles sheathed by soft skin. He was strength and heat and danger.
“I love you, Annie.”
His whisper was soft in her ear. She smiled against his skin, and kissed his jaw. Aiden skimmed his hands over her body, and she gave herself to the sensation of their lovemaking. He stroked her back, and she pictured the vivid ink under his fingers. She wanted him to take her from behind so he could see the dragon on her skin. She knew it was beautiful, and only Aiden should see the proof of her hard road to mastery.
She moved on him harder and faster, her breath coming between her lips in soft puffs. Aiden watched her a look of fascination on his face. For so many years she’d dreamed of him…guilty dreams of forbidden acts. She’d never dreamed of his forgiveness, or her eventual atonement.
The anger had been an illusion, a false reality that allowed him to plunge into darkness without guilt. It had been his crutch, his addiction. Somehow he’d freed himself of that dependence. The proof was before her eyes, wrapping around their hearts, bringing them together.
She watched him as steadily as he watched her, and she had to wonder what was going through her mind. He’d given her all. He’d given her his love, and while those same words hovered in her mind, they wouldn’t be spoken.
His head fell back and he groaned. The tightening in his spine, the heat in his balls told her he was close. He took control of their movement, grasping her hips and shafting hard into her body.
Helpless, she fell forward, her weight on his chest, her hips plunging wildly to meet his. She pulled back, once again watching his face, and he looked up at her desperately, with wild eyes. Small, harsh cries broke from her lips. “Aiden!” Her cry was strangled and hoarse. “God… now! Aiden!”
A final thrust and they were there. His cries mingled with hers. His back arched, pushing him deep, holding as he spilled freely into her body. His seed surged hot and spasms twisted him, and he thrust into her once again.
Her orgasm continued. She cried out and froze on his cock, again and again, keeping him hard well after he was finished. With a small groan, her muscles went lax, she collapsed, her body melting against his. She lay fully on him. Their limbs tangled, their sweat mingled. She listened to his heart, and it beat in time with hers.
“Oh, Tanaka,” he said on a shuddering breath.
When they could move again, Aiden stood, lifting her easily, his cock slipping from her body. He wrapped her legs around his hips and carried her to the small bedroom where a bed sat on a four-poster frame.
She could see the bed took him by surprise. It was a treasure she’d hauled up from the mud. She’d scrubbed the iron frame till it gleamed, then painted it in a
delicate white. She’d piled the bed with antique quilts and mounds of pillows, a feminine oasis in the midst of austerity.
He laid her gently down and stepped into the bathroom, she heard water running in the sink. He returned to her, the robe he still wore fluttering as he moved, the painted cranes seeming to fly in his wake.
He looked the same. Yet down deep, he Aiden was intrinsically changed from the man she’d known. His very cells were changed and unless he was grievously injured, he’d live far longer than she would. She studied him, fascinated by the juxtaposition of races that had blended to create such male beauty.
She studied the dragon swirling on his chest. The matching phoenix was buried with Lisa. Fit together, the two had formed a stylized Yin-Yang medallion. He’d lost half of himself when his wife died. But the man standing before her looked remarkably whole. He crawled onto the bed next to her, a damp cloth warming in his hand. She shivered as he slowly, methodically cleaned her skin, lingering as though he was fragile and precious.
She hadn’t said it to him yet, the words had locked up inside her head, her heart. He’d changed over the years but at the core, he was still Aiden Chen, her partner and friend. The man she’d secretly loved for most of those years they’d worked so closely together.
The husband of her best friend.
Annie rolled onto her side, closer to his warmth. She listened to his breathing, traced the dragon on his chest with the tip of her finger. His seed slipped from her body, and she let it, shivering at the feel of it trickling down her thigh. His nanites kept him free of disease. Her annual injection ensured she wouldn’t become pregnant.
He and Lisa had planned on children. Would he want children with her? Would they want to bring children into Wharf? Neither of them lived a lifestyle conducive to parenting, and yet, for the first time in her life, Annie thought of children.
Jumping the gun there, Tanaka.
Nevertheless, the thoughts tumbling through her brain spoke of roots and forever.
Dragon's Blood (Black Planet Book 1) Page 6
