Lotus Flower Bomb: The Mogul Series Book Two

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Lotus Flower Bomb: The Mogul Series Book Two Page 3

by Goree-Bell, Kenya


  He rested his head on the headrest, allowing himself to think back to her petit form and lush curves, her full, plump breasts and the heat of her pussy radiating on his dick. He would revel in her. Take his time to taste every inch of her body. He would wrap all that long hair in his fist when he fucked her and maybe even let her touch his. That he’d allow that and even craved it shocked him. Akchiro knew that it would be no small torture awaiting her call; when he finally had her, he’d reward himself well by availing himself of her to his heart’s content. Part of him he wouldn’t even acknowledge roared with pride over the fact that he’d nearly brought her to orgasm. That part of him he’d long ago silenced in his drive to succeed wanted to please her, was warmed when she’s smiled at him even when she was saying no. That part wanted more. Wanted to know her. Make her laugh. Hear her cry out his name as he drove inside her over and over again. Hold her in his arms again and watch the sun rise in the Tokyo sky.

  Watching those lights as the Rolls sped past the Tokyo night, Akchiro called on all of his hard-learned discipline and Samurai heritage for the wait to come. Takedas were many things and being patient was just as key to their success as their ruthlessness. Whether or not Flower was aware, she was his.

  Chapter 3

  Three days.

  That’s how long the torment lasted. “Flower, you are so dumb, but you’re going to call him, anyway.” Shaking her head at the back and forth, she argued with herself as she had since she walked away from his Rolls. Flower dialed the number embossed on the business card Akchiro had given her. Tapping her foot, she looked around her apartment from where she sat on her sofa, trying to find the calm that usually came from her serene surroundings. She hung up after the first ring. “Nopity, nope-nope. Uh-uh, No.” She bit her lip, pushing down the panic that threatened. What was she going to say? “Dude, you were right. I want to see you again. I can’t stop thinking about that kiss”?

  “Deep breath, Flower. Focus on the now,” she whispered to herself and lasered in on her surroundings. She’d known this small but lovely apartment was exactly what she needed the moment the real estate broker brought her to it. Clutter was nonexistent, unlike her Manhattan apartment that was wall to wall books, plush furnishings, statuary, and art that she either bought or had gifted to her. No, this apartment was all sleek lines, a comfortable little linen sofa, petit coffee table, and a chair for reading overlooking a terrace where she took her coffee in the mornings. The pale green and linen tones were offset with a white that was bright but held no glare. She could have her blinds open all day without being bothered by neighbors or the sounds of the busy city. The moment she saw this gem, she hopped on it and did not regret turning down Bridget’s and Evangelina’s offer to stay with them in their midcity high-rise. This apartment—or flat, as they called it—was perfect for her. Or it had been until she met a certain man and the walls suddenly felt stifling.

  Thoughts of Akchiro Takeda had been plaguing her from the moment she left him lounging in the back that car. Calling him was out of the question. He was out of her league. Flower knew she was not his type, and she would not kid herself, because face it, men like him had a type and they were usually the tall, skinny type, not her petit, curvy figure. So, whatever trip he’d been on the other night, she’d let him overcome it on his own and not experiment on her like some toddler seeing a new toy. Satisfied with her assessment and more than a little proud of herself for hanging up before she’d embarrassed herself again, she decided to reward herself with a snack.

  Leaving the phone on the table near the sofa, she walked over to her small kitchen, which she knew she was lucky to have, to make her light snack. She pulled out her olives, Saint Agur cheese, and hummus, which she considered quite a decadent snack when she stuffed them. Placing them the small quartz counter, she nearly jumped out of her skin, lunging out of the way to avoid the falling butter knife when her phone chimed.

  The clattering against the tiled floor added to the noise of the phone. Rolling her eyes at her clumsy jitters, Flower picked up the knife and tossed it into the sink then headed over to her phone. Knowing that it was one a.m. in New York, Flower knew that wouldn’t be a deterrent to either of her brothers who spent all night in the studio, though now FADE mostly mentored the younger artists on his label. On the other hand, Ghadi’s star was burning hot and bright right now, and he was enjoying every moment of it and working hard to push past FADE’s ever-present fame. That was one of the many things they had in common—hard work and a fierce drive to succeed. Their father often joked how unsettling it was to have all his children have type A personalities, but boy had it paid off. They had not only taken care of their family but reached back and invested in their small town in Alabama.

  Reaching the table, Flower stopped short, looking down at the phone just as it stopped ringing. It wasn’t her either of her brothers. That was a Tokyo number. The same number she’d just hung up on a few moments ago. She plopped down on the sofa. She’d missed the call. She wasn’t sure if she was happy or sad about it, because she was not going to call back. It was probably just his assistant anyway, with some excuse. A message probably would pop up any second. The phone buzzed again, and she looked down to see the message. It chimed again. They were calling again. Efficient. Like her, she always made sure she got through to the person with whom she was dealing with, so she understood the approach, though this was not business but something private that shouldn’t be regulated to one’s assistant in the first place. More reason to not engage further with the guy. Terrible people skills. The phone chimed again and again.

  “Hello,” she said, forgoing the standard “Moshi, Moshi,” since she wasn’t continuing the conversation in Japanese and didn’t want to confuse the assistant.

  “Why did you hang up?”

  Flower closed her eyes against the rich, cool timbre of his voice and just let that roll over her for a second before responding, “I wasn’t sure that contacting you was a good idea.”

  “And now?” He sounded patient but there was something in his voice she couldn’t place. Had she not met him and seen how he commanded the space, she would have said it was uncertainty, but in her mind she scoffed at the very notion.

  “Now? I still don’t know. Thus the reason I hung up before anyone answered.”

  “I need to see you, Flower.”

  Shut the front door! Saturday night was not a lark. Flower was shaken to her core. This type of stuff did not happen to her. She should have told her friends what really happened in that Rolls Royce instead of blowing them off when they asked her what happened to her hair so she would have been prepared for this! She had limited experience with guys and none with a man like him. She was excited and terrified all at the same time.

  “I have to leave town tomorrow for business, and I don’t want to leave without seeing you. Will you see me, Flower?” It was a demand disguised as a request. He was done asking, it seemed to her; either she saw him tonight or never again. That was what was left unsaid in all of this.

  “Flower?”

  * * *

  When the car pulled up, she was waiting. She didn’t want him coming up to her apartment. Her space was sacred to her, and she didn’t want anything untoward to happen like last time. She obviously couldn’t trust herself around him. I really should have gotten some advice about this situation, Flower thought as Bao stepped out and around the long sleek car then opened the door for her. He nodded to her after a quick surveillance of the area. The neighborhood was what Evangelina called quaint and Bridget went so far as to say hood. Flower found the middle-class neighborhood lovely, and it reminded her of the home she’d left when she was a child before her brother rocketed to fame and moved his whole family to the big city to give them the best possible chance. He was just being hyper-vigilant, like her brothers’ security teams. She was sure it was a prerequisite for the job.

  Sliding into the cool confines of the car, Flower noticed as she smoothed the edges of her pink DVF mini
wrap dress that Akchiro was dressed just as impeccably as he had been Saturday night. His bespoke midnight-black suit was perfection, his white shirt blindingly crisp, and the black-on-black striped tie that should’ve seemed a bland accompaniment actually gave the entire ensemble panache. She liked it. Maybe a little too much, she thought, dragging her eyes up to his cool gaze giving him a bow in greeting.

  After returning the gesture and pressing the intercom she had only just noticed, he said, “Bao.” He gave instructions in quick-fire Japanese that she could not follow for the life of her. She was taking lessons, though not as intensely as Bridget and Evangelina, but she was nowhere near as fluent. He depressed the button and looked at her, assessing every aspect of her. His gaze missed nothing, “Have you eaten?”

  Flower wanted to squirm under the heat of his perusal but tamped it down. “I was about to have a light snack when you called.” She was hoping against hope that her stomach didn’t growl in the car. That would be dreadful. Determined not to think about food right now, though her appetite had been nil as she’d given in to the angst that rode her since being with him in this car on Saturday, she was a girl who liked to eat. She must be a glutton for a particular type of punishment because dang if she wasn’t right back here with him again. She almost rolled her eyes at herself.

  “Then we shall share a meal.”

  Flower nodded, forcing herself not to look at him because that was all she wanted to do, really. Look at his gorgeous face. She was glad that he was not big on small talk because she honestly wasn’t up for conversation right now as her nerves began to take hold. This guy was a wall or an abyss. Too deep for some. Probably for her. She couldn’t nudge the feeling that she was out of her depth with him. He was calm and way cooler than any man she’d ever encountered, and she had sat across the table negotiating with the sharks of the music industry since she’d graduated from university. His allure called to her, made her want things, tempted her, and dared her to do things that she would never engage in. Leave with a stranger? Never. If her family found out she was being so reckless, her dad would be disappointed, her mom would kill her, not to mention her brothers’ wrath laying waste to everything they could get their hands on, and her sister, Willow, would laugh at her finally being the one who’d gotten in trouble. Yet here she was, availing herself of the freedom anonymity gave her being with this man who called to her soul.

  The ride was like floating on a cloud. She was more than comfortable. The seats were nap worthy. If she dared to lie down within the plush confines, she’d probably drift off in seconds. She watched the scenery zoom by, noticing they were going deeper into the city center, a place she’d rarely ventured into since being in Tokyo. The bustling city was exciting, and that is what she loved about her adopted city. She came to Tokyo to be in a big city but able to retreat from it when she needed. And though she wasn’t famous, she was famous-adjacent and did not want her cover blown by any acquaintances she may run into. She’d even gone so far as to use their mother’s maiden name, Ellington, instead of Carrington when leasing her apartment and called in some favors to have it on her visa. No paparazzi would care about following Flower Ellington around in an effort to get a lame reaction for some tabloid.

  “We are here,” Akchiro informed her as the car passed the tallest building complex in Japan, the Toranomon Hills Tower. This place outstripped the Midtown complex that Evangelina and Bridget lived barely, but just enough to get the title. It was a wholly self-sustaining environment with shopping, dining, movies, and anything else your heart could imagine all in one huge complex. The car went around to an underground parking deck. Where the driver and probably the entire car was screened if her past experience told her anything. The car was then waved through to another area, which Flower knew was for VIP parking. Once there, they had another security check, then went through to yet another area where finally the car stopped. The area was empty save for two Bentleys, several sports cars, and high-end motorcycles. All she could think of was boys and their dumb, dangerous toys. She knew without asking that all this was his. She was dying to know what he did but also knew to ask was the height of rudeness in Japanese culture.

  The door swept open then, and Bao stepped back, giving Akchiro room to get out, then held out a gloved hand to her. Closing the door, he bowed deeply to his employer, who gave him a brief bow in return.

  “Shall we?” Akchiro held out his hand in the direction of the interior of the building. Walking past him, Flower felt a little trepidation and excitement race through her. This was so wild. She couldn’t believe that the person she had become over the last few years was giving way to the fun-loving girl she had once been before the crushing responsibility of running her brothers’ company had taken hold. She loved business. She loved managing staff and being in charge, but she wanted it to be on her own terms and make her own way, not being seen as the recipient of familial nepotism that she sometimes felt. She feared that no matter her accomplishments, her success would always be clouded by her getting such a high position because her brothers owned the company.

  The elevator opened with barely a sound, and they stepped inside. Flower moved to the back of the elevator and waited as Akchiro entered a passcode then moved beside her. They stood as close as two people possibly could without touching. She looked at their reflections in the mirrored doors and saw that he was looking back at her, the cool fire of his eyes blazing. They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. Everything was communicated with that stare. Flower felt her heart racing. Her body was responding like a gazelle being stalked by a lion if the lion wanted to lick you from head to toe instead of devouring you. The smooth glide upward took less than a minute, but it felt longer. She didn’t know how her breathing stayed steady under his penetrating look, but secretly she was proud of herself for not flinching and not just turning to him and climbing up that tall body to relieve just a smidge of the sexual frustration that was building inside.

  The elevator dinged, and he stepped between the doors and waited for her. Flower paused, unsure. Maybe this was not the greatest idea. Once she was in his penthouse, he could do anything to her and she would be powerless to stop him. And she knew that the other her wanted him to do everything to her. Would revel in it.

  “Flower.” She looked up into his beautiful obsidian eyes and knew that he was keenly aware of her trepidation. “Nothing will happen that you don’t want.” The deep timbre of his voice was comforting in a way that she didn’t expect. “Text your friends if you already haven’t and let them know that you are with me and where you are.” Then he gave her the address with solemn dignity.

  She knew it must’ve grated that she didn’t trust him, but Flower trusted few people outside of her family, and she would never apologize for that. She typed the information into the text and pressed send. She knew that a flurry of replies would soon come, so she moved the phone to silent. Letting them know was enough. Being lectured and scolded right now was not what she was in the mood for. She knew she was being selfish and maybe even a little careless, but she wanted to live. And most of all, she wanted to spend time with Akchiro.

  Pushing away from the wall she had come to lean upon, she stepped forward, brushing past him as she walked out of the elevator.

  Chapter 4

  She wasn’t ready.

  Flower didn’t know what she expected before she stepped off the elevator, stopping briefly to remove her shoes into what she could only describe as a cloud palace, but it wasn’t the wall of windows looking out not only over all of Tokyo but probably half of Japan itself. The view was breathtaking. The design was a mix of Western and Eastern aesthetics, with smooth tones of pearl and jade intermingled with lapis. The long couch was plush and deep as it faced the windows with a fireplace to the left, whose slate brick work went from floor to ceiling. The living room itself could house her small apartment several times over. There were stuffed ottomans of shearling before the fireplace and a low oval table with smooth edges and a glass to
p that revealed an amethyst geode inside. She’d never seen one that size outside of a natural history museum.

  “This way, please.” He indicated she should follow him as he led her to double doors that at first glance seemed to have one huge platinum doorknob but as they approached was a dragon curved around its tail which slid apart by its own volition, disappearing into neatly hidden pockets inside the wall. The room opened into a large dining room. The table she was sure could accommodate a dozen people. It was long, gleaming mahogany with small bowls of lotuses before every duet of chairs.

  Unlike an American seating arrangement, there was no head of table placement. The chairs were tufted linen lined with seed pearls. There were four platinum chandeliers which should have been garish, but the silk wallpaper was of pewter, which muted what should have been a glare. The wall of windows in the room held a light tint that kept the sun from being blinding. On the pewter silk wall hung a huge tapestry of two dragons coiled in what looked like a battle to the death. One was red and jade, with gold lanced through its body from head to tail. The other was a combination of purple, silver, and lapis. The designer of this apartment was a fanatic about their chosen theme. Looking closer at the silk wallpaper, Flower noticed a delicate embossment of the lotus flower throughout. Dragons and lotus. That was his thing. Got it. Through the dining, they came out into a chef’s kitchen.

  Flower made a point of closing her mouth. This was unbelievable; the counter was a thin layer of iridescent quartz that curved and ran the expanse of nearly the whole kitchen. The high-back barstools faced away from the windows, but the view would not be missed by the cook when they prepared the food. The range was a high-end Wolf with eight gas burners, the grill, and a stainless-steel hood. There were two sets of double ovens, one housed within the range and another encased alongside the wall. There would never be a problem accommodating any number of dinner party guests with this kitchen. The refrigerator was probably hidden or a walk-in unit because at first glance she could not tell what the smooth cabinetry held.

 

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