Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 161615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 539(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 539(@300wpm)
“Mind my business—”
“I am cooking for your men. Deal with it.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “And that’s the end of this conversation. Go out there and let your guards know they can eat the banana bread.”
“Banana bread? That’s what you made for them?”
“Yes.”
He snapped his view to the door. “Did I get some too?”
“Of course. You got the biggest piece.”
He put his view back on me. “Why feed my guards?”
“Because Hiro was like. . .if I was going to feed my guards then I should feed yours.”
“Hiro? When the fuck did you talk to Hiro?” His head jerked back like I’d slapped him. “And hold on. Who’s your guards?”
“The guards that walked with me this morning. They’re mine now. I trust them, and they’re chill.” I pursed my lips.
“So you’re picking your guards now?”
I tried to make my voice sound much more alpha, but instead it came out squeaky. “That’s right. I’ve. . .assigned my security crew.”
“We’ll talk about that later.” He studied me. “Back to Hiro. When the fuck did you talk to my brother?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got the fucking time.”
“He was in the kitchen. We cooked together and—”
“Who cooked together?” He widened his eyes.
“Hiro and I—”
“My brother?” His mouth opened in utter shock. He blinked twice. “Are you sure it was Hiro?”
“Yes. I’m sure. It was your brother, but let’s get back to your supposed law on no one eating my food. For your information, Hiro is already downstairs eating a full plate. Plus, there's food heading to Reo. And those guards outside? They've been standing watch all night. Don't they deserve something warm?"
"They deserve nothing that's yours!"
"My cooking isn't an object you can own, Kenji. It's a gift. And gifts are meant to be shared." I reached up and touched his chest, right over his heart. "You can't hoard my love for cooking. It doesn't work that way. It will hurt me and I’ll get fucking pissed and resentful. I’ll stop being your fun little Tiger and instead be your bitchy little Tiger."
The fight drained out of his eyes, replaced by something more complicated.
Frustration.
Acceptance.
Desire.
“Kenji. . .I would like you to tell the guards that they can eat their food. I would also like you to put on some clothes, and then come eat what I made for you before it gets cold.” I swallowed. “Please. . .respectfully. . .Dragon King Almighty.”
He snarled a little, but. . .he did just as I said. He walked his naked ass to the door, opened it, and growled, “Eat the fucking banana bread!”
I smirked.
They responded together in Japanese.
He growled back. “Thank her. Don’t thank me.”
Next, he slammed the door and stomped into the closet.
Wow. Dramatic much?
I let out a long breath.
From inside the closet, I heard the sounds of Kenji moving—drawers sliding open with more force than necessary, hangers clicking, fabric rustling, a low growl of frustration, then the distinct sound of a zipper.
He was getting dressed.
Finally.
I walked back to the door and opened it slightly, catching the attention of one of the guards. "Could you finish setting up, please?"
The guards moved immediately, probably grateful for permission. They hurried in with chairs and a small table, positioning it near the window where morning light streamed through.
Their movements were quick, efficient, and practiced.
In the hallway, I could see the other guards had wasted no time with their surprises. They'd already opened their bento boxes and were eating the banana bread. Some of them dipped thick slices into the small containers of whipped cream and caramel sauce I'd packed.
One guard closed his eyes as he chewed, and I had to bite back a smile.
Another nodded at me in thanks.
They like it.
God, that felt good.
The closet door opened behind me, and I turned.
Kenji emerged wearing black pants—perfectly tailored, sitting low on his hips—and nothing else.
His chest was still bare, all those tattoos and muscles on full display. His hair was slightly mussed from whatever war he'd waged with his clothing. His eyes found mine immediately, dark and intense.
My breath stuttered.
I honestly wasn't sure which version of him was the sexiest—pants on or pants off.
Both messed with my mind in different ways and made my knees weak. Naked Kenji was lusty power and primal obsession. Partially dressed Kenji was controlled danger with a hint of erotic civilization.
The guards finished arranging the table and chairs, then filed toward the door. They moved around Kenji carefully, and he watched them go with that predatory stillness he did so well.
The door clicked shut.
We were alone.
“Perfect. Let’s eat.” I turned toward the food cart, ready to finally sit down and eat.
Fast, Kenji's hand closed around my arm. “Hold on, Tora.”
What?
He pulled me to him in one smooth motion, spinning me until my body collided with his chest. His other hand cupped the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair.