Page 43

He nods but doesn’t say anything as I secure my towel tighter around my waist.

“You know there are actual showers here. You can close the door and all.” He laughs.

“You’re mentioning this now?” I seethe, catching his intense stare. Damn, my cheek hurts.

He tries to reign in his smile. Why the hell did he do that? And why were my reflexes so slow? I blame it on being on edge the whole day I’ve been around Moon.

“Later.” He laughs. “Thanks for the show by the way,” he says, his eyes traveling down to my naked legs and the outline of my dick pressing against the towel. I keep sitting on the wet floor as I watch him head to the outside baths.

I dust myself off as I stand and wrap the towel around my waist again. I eye my reflection in the mirror, running a finger over the cut. It’s bleeding a little.

“What were you talking about?” Moon’s deep voice cuts through the air.

I don’t bother to turn around. “Nothing, just work.”

“Work,” he repeats. “Look at me while I’m talking to you.”

I turn around and inch back. Fuck, I didn’t know he was so close already. He eyes my towel and I flinch; he’s not wearing any. His eyes widen when they land on the fresh cut on my face. He reaches out, cupping my cheek and my heart skips a beat.

“What the hell happened?” He looks over his shoulder to where Yuki disappeared out of the door.

“Nothing, I just slipped,” I explain. He eyes me warily like he doesn’t believe me. I’m not going to throw Yuki under the bus. It was an accident, right?

He rubs a hand over his stomach, and I do everything in my power not to let my eyes wander down over his tattoos all the way to his dick. He presses his hand against the tile wall to box me in. “What were you talking about with Yuki?” He swallows hard as his eyes glide over my chest down to the V line of my waist.

“Work,” I reply again.

He cocks his head. “You fucking better,” he says, staring at my lips. Shaking his head, he pushes himself off the wall, turns around, and heads toward the baths outside.

I press my back against the cold tiles trying to cool down. I’ve been training so hard the past year; my muscles are more defined and my shoulders a little broader than before. But I’ve got nothing on Moon’s tattooed back; the man is so big, every inch of his skin glistens with little droplets of water, and his medium-length black hair is wet and unkept, like he’s been combing his hands through it. I let my eyes slide down from his tattoos to his firm ass. Damn his waist. Every hard line of his body, even his tattooed legs, are hot. I shake my head, slapping both hands against my cheeks to wake myself the fuck up.

Tian catches up to him and keeps droning on about something in Cantonese, while Moon keeps ignoring me. I can understand a little, but Mandarin is easier, they probably don’t want me or Yuki to figure out what they’re plotting.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, I follow them to the baths. He keeps ignoring me when I get in the hot water, trying to hide my dick with the towel. The only time he sends me a murderous and exasperated glance is when Yuki tells me some lame joke and places his hand on my arm I draped over the back of the pool. I shrug his hand off and Moon’s eyes turn to little slits. What’s he giving me that look for?

“Sirs,” Yuki says to both Moon and Tian, while getting out of the Onsen. Tian gets out five minutes later, leaving us alone, but not before he winks at me.

Sulking, I turn around and press my chin against the cold stone. Maybe it isn’t my brightest idea to turn my back to Moon, but I don’t care. What the hell is he going to do in this bath. Drown me? There isn’t anyone else here, probably because the family owns this Onsen and many like it across the city. They’re good for money laundering. I take a deep breath, placing my chin on my hand while I lean against the stones and sigh, the hot water soothing my skin.

“Don’t turn your back on me.” His deep voice cuts through the air. “Unless you want me to do something we’ll both regret.”

I freeze and immediately turn around. “You better listen to Tian,” I tell him, trying to ignore his hungry gaze sliding over my shoulders up to my neck.

He starts to laugh, the corner of his lip hiking up for a second and leans his head back against the side of the pool, not tearing his eyes away from me.

I don’t know where to look. Not at his chest or his taut nipples submerged under the water. Or the way he places his arms on the edge showing off his muscles and the Yakuza style tattoos decorating his body. He spent his later teens and twenties learning the ropes from one of the main Tokyo syndicates. It shows not only in the way he looks but acts too, all reserved and in control. His black hair is cut so it falls in front of one eye. The straight glasses usually decorating his face, would finish the whole Yakuza image. His full lips and his neck and Adam’s apple are almost sensual, not like Dash’s but like a ballet dancer if this makes sense. What would he taste like if I’d got to kiss him again. I catch myself. What the hell? No. Would he smell and taste like the matcha he always drinks, or like the cigarettes he smokes. I could taste it on his lips that time a year ago; I wonder if anything has changed since then.

“What?” he says, looking straight at me.

My cheeks flush; I didn’t know I was staring with my mouth open. I run a hand over my face, trying to hide the line of drool probably moving down my chin. I submerge myself deeper in the water, wetting my long hair. I stopped dyeing it since the stairwell incident; the blond is almost gone.

“What? Speak,” he barks again with those muscles and tattoos glistening in the moonlight. I’m not going to tell him I was checking him out. We haven’t talked for almost a year; and when we did, it was always about business. After that stairwell episode and Dash’s marriage, he disappeared for weeks on end to South America and Europe with Tian, not that I’ve been keeping tabs on him.

Tears suddenly cloud my vison, taking me by surprise. “Nothing,” I whisper as steam from the water creates a fog around us. No one can see us sitting here if anyone walks by. I know I need to make a run for it and take a shower, but something makes me stay. Maybe I want to suffer and see where this goes.

He pushes himself from the edge, swimming toward me. I press my back against the cold stones, the tiles digging in my back. I grimace the moment he places a hand next to my shoulder on the stones behind me, holding me captive.

“You make me want to destroy everything you know that?” he growls out, his eyes trailing over my face. I turn my head away. What the fuck does that mean? But before I can ask him about it he forcefully grabs my chin tilting my head toward the light. “What happened?” he demands, his thumb softly brushing over the cut. “Who hurt this face?” The anger and distaste evident in his deep voice. “And don’t give me the story about you slipping.”