Crimson Footprints (16 page)

“
Deena! Deena, please!
Would you wait?”

The sound of his voice only
fueled her hysteria. She burst into the stairwell, gut-wrenching
sobs seizing her like violent gusts of wind. Up three flights they
went, as her hair, her nose, her lips dripped with rain and tears.
Her vision blurred, as behind her, Tak’s footsteps thundered. She
reached their floor, their door, and fumbled to unlock
it.

“
Deena, please.
Listen
to
me.”

He was there, beside her, as
she trembled with emotion. He reached for her and she
recoiled.

“
Don’t. Just—don’t make it
worse.”

She returned to the door,
fumbling.

“
God, would you
listen?”

She began to mutter to
herself, enraged with a lock that wouldn’t open.

“
I’m so stupid,” she
whispered. “I had no reason to think you loved me. No reason to
hope. I just—”

She dashed away
tears.

“
She’s my agent, Deena.
That’s all.”

He reached for her, turned
her, and she went stark still.

“
Now, are we done playing
games?” Tak whispered.

Deena closed her eyes.
Attempted to swallow fear.

“
I don’t know what you
mean,” she mustered weakly.

Something in her burned with
the lie.

“
No?”

He snatched her to him,
brought his mouth down hard on hers. She opened to meet him,
willing, and a moan escaped. Resolve, resistance, rationale—all
gone. When he finally withdrew, he was smiling.

“
That’s what I
mean.”

He returned to her mouth,
his kisses demanding, impatient. His hands found her back, her
waist, her ass in greed. Deena was breathless with fear,
anticipation and arousal as her body told her what her mind had
feared—that it was his. That it always had been his.

Blindly, he fumbled with the
lock and opened the door before backing her into the suite. She
clung to him, whimpering, as his tongue ravished her
mouth.

He pulled away her blouse,
exposing two bronzed breasts, clad in frilly white.

“
Jesus,” he
whispered.

His mouth came down on hers
again, swallowing, consuming her whole.

He found her skirt and
tossed it to the floor, before pulling at his own clothes with
impatience. She helped him, trembling fingers at the buttons of his
shirt, near desperate to feel him.

When Tak lifted her and
instinctively, Deena’s legs wrapped his waist. Their mouths met
with abandon as he lowered her to the bed.

“
You want this?” he
whispered.

Deena blinked back tears.
She fele so many things in that instant—alarm and passion,
nervousness and desire, and yes, she wanted him that
bad.

She brought a hand to his
cheek and nodded, hoping he couldn’t feel the tremble. Tak kissed
her, a soft kiss, before lowering his mouth to her body. He trailed
lips to her thighs, parted them, and licked. Deena yelped, back
arched as she gripped the sheets and thrashed beneath him. Hot
waves swept her, drowning her, drowning her, completely. With a
flick of the tongue, he’d humbled even her most impassioned dreams,
relegating them to mediocrity.

He climbed atop her. Her
breasts crushed beneath him, soft and round, supple and yielding
under hardness. His lips found her mouth again for a soft, sweet
and lingering kiss. Deena closed her eyes, relishing it, and was
met with a thrust. White hot and searing, she let out a sob, as a
gush of crimson met him.

Tak gasped. He was poised
above her, inserted, overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the tightness of
her opening and the knowledge of what she’d given him. Never more
had he felt the limitations of manhood. He was weakened by her—by
the sight of her body, by his name on her lips, by the perfectness
of it all.

She whimpered, and God, the
sound drove him mad. He moved against her in slow and staggered
strokes, working to forge an opening where none existed. He
throbbed in her, pulsing and stirring with the compact fit. Slowly,
carefully, together, they found harmony, fed hunger, fueled greed.
He struggled to temper his thrusts with tenderness, but he was on
fire. He dug fingers into the flesh of her hips, sinking and
gripping, losing his battle. Steadily, her words came frenzied and
incoherent, as frenzied as his strokes desperately wanted to be.
She was meeting them now, each one, with an ardor that sent blazes
through his body. She said his name, not once, but until he begged
her to stop, certain she’d kill him. And when her body began to
quiver and he could hold on no longer, he forged ahead, an apology
on his lips. Together, they found harmony, fed passion and fueled
lust. Together, they found a perfect, yet powerful
finish.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Deena’s body was damp and
her pulse still staggered. Having left Tak in the bed behind her,
she brought a hand to the room’s wide window. It felt cool to the
touch. Her view from the third floor was unimpressive—a pharmacy, a
few pedestrians, a billboard for
Lion King
the Musical
. Both the sky was and ground
registered the same dull slate. Rain fell in an indifferent
sprinkle, leaving droplets her windowpane and the ground
below.

Mid-intersection an umbrella
unfolded, a burst of red in an otherwise gray day. She thought of
Tak. He’d slipped into her life like that red umbrella, bursting
open in her private storm of gray.

Behind her, Tak’s arms slid
around her midsection and kissed it. Silently, they stood there,
watching the rain fall. And when Deena brought a hand to the window
this time, Tak reached for it, covering it with his own.

Sitting across from each
other on the bed, Tak and Deena dug into cartons of Moo shu pork
with chopsticks. Deena, donned in Tak’s gray UCLA tee, frowned at
the food as she picked through it.

“
There aren’t any peanuts,
Dee,” Tak scooped out a thick wad of pork and noodles before
dropping it into his mouth.

“
Are you sure? I thought I
saw one.”

“
You didn’t. Now eat. You
must be starving.”

A shadow passed over Deena’s
face and Tak sighed.

“
You can meet her, you
know.”

Deena’s gaze found her lap.
“I don’t know what you mean.”

Tak smiled. “The last time
you said that, it turned out you did.”

He grinned at the rush of
color to her cheeks.

“
Come on,” he placed a hand
over her knee. “I’ll call Bridget, my agent, and you can meet
her.”

Deena withdrew her hand. “I
don’t want you to think I don’t trust you.”

He returned to his food.
“How about we don’t even go down that road? How about you meet her,
find out for yourself that she has absolutely no interest in me,
nor any other man, and then we get on with our lives?”

Deena’s eyes widened. “What
do you mean ‘no interest?’ Did something happen to her?”

Tak grinned. He loved the
irony of Deena’s innocence. Tough, underprivileged, a fighter if
he’d ever seen one, and still naïve as hell half the
time.

“
She’s a lesbian, Dee. So
she might like you.” He winked.

“
I don’t need to meet her,”
Deena said quietly.

Tak shrugged.

“
The more I think about it,
the more I like it. In fact, I insist the two of you
meet.”

This time his grin was met
with a pillow to the face.

“
You’re such a
pig!”

“
Your pig now.”

She met his gaze with a shy
smile.

When the heat of it proved
too much, Deena stood and went to the cherry wood desk at the rear
of the suite. She returned with a
Fodor’s
guide. “I don’t know what
we’ll do about our itinerary. We’ve wasted a whole day.”

Tak shook his head. “And
here I was ready to declare New York the best city
ever.”

Deena blushed. “But we
haven’t seen anything.”

“
You kidding me? I’ve seen
plenty.”

She hurled the book at him
and Tak ducked. “You’re getting violent, Dee. Can’t say I approve.”
He returned to his moo shu pork.

“
Tak! We’ve only got two
days here. We need to make plans.”

He turned his carton upside
down and shoveled the last of the food into his mouth.

“
How’s this?” He stood,
tossed the white box into a wastebasket, and headed for the
bathroom to wash his hands. “How about we stay here a few more
days. Two, three, five, I don’t care. Then afterwards, if we can,
we squeeze in one or two more places on the way home.”

Deena frowned. “If that’s
what you want.”

“
No,” Tak said, returning
to the bed. “We’ll stay longer if that’s what you want. Whatever
makes you happy.”

It was the first time she’d
ever heard the words, directed at her at least. She found they fell
oddly on her ears, like the sound of her name being pronounced
incorrectly. While she still understood the meaning, it still rang
as bizarre.

“
Let’s see how it goes,”
Deena murmured.

Tak nodded, stood again.
“Great. Anyway, tomorrow night my cousin’s dropping by.”

Deena sat up
straighter.

“
Cousin? What
cousin?”

Tak laughed. “Why? Is there
one you know?”

“
No. It’s just—” Deena fell
silent.

“
My cousin, John. The one
I’m always telling you about? He’s at Columbia.”

Deena stared at the
bedspread. His cousin. His family. She raised her gaze. “What about
Daichi?”

“
What about
him?”

“
Won’t he find out that we
were here? Together?”

Tak shook his head. “No. He
and John aren’t exactly text message buddies.”

Deena watched him as he
pulled on a close-fitting chocolate tee and a pair of relaxed
jeans, still unconvinced. “Still, Tak. You told me a long time ago
that your father was like my family in some ways. That he wouldn’t
approve of you dating a girl who wasn’t Japanese.”

“
So?”

“
So I’m not
Japanese.”

Tak sighed. “It’ll be fine.
Trust me. When you meet John, you’ll understand.”

“
What in the world does
that mean?”

“
Well,” Tak said. “He’d be
a fine one to talk. Considering he’s only half Japanese
himself.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

Deena didn’t need to be told
that the tall and sinewy man with silk black hair was John Tanaka.
The square face, heavy-lidded eyes and broad mouth all gave him
away. They were mirrored images, Tak and John, albeit with subtle
differences. John’s eyes were a honey brown, whereas Tak’s were
near black. John’s skin was like porcelain, Tak’s soft wheat. And
where John wore his hair in a short and conservative comb-back,
Tak’s was blunted with a razor and constantly in his
eyes.

Tak swept John into a hearty
embrace before holding him out at arm’s length.

“
You’re looking more and
more like your father,” Tak said.

John grinned. “Those late
night pan pizzas must be showing.” He patted his washboard
stomach.

“
I’m thinking it’s the
receding hairline.”

“
What!” John
cried.

He pounced, but Tak was
ready and swept him into a headlock. The two laughed as they
tumbled about the suite, as John tried his damnedest to get
free.

Deena rolled her eyes and
turned to the blonde near the door. She was a saucer-faced girl
with gooseberry eyes, short with slight curves. Once it became
clear that no introductions were forthcoming, Deena strode over to
her.

“
I’m guessing you’re
Allison.” She extended a hand. “John’s girlfriend?”

The girl nodded.

“
And you’re Deena? Tak’s
girlfriend?”

It was news to her. But she
liked the sound of it. She smiled shyly, gave a short
nod.

“
Are they always like
this?” Deena asked, peering at the two men, their wrestling match
now down to the carpet.

Allison sighed. “John’s
rowdy, but—Tak brings out the worst in him.”

“
I should expect more of
this?” Deena asked.

“
Basically,” Allison
deadpanned.

Finally, the pair stood and
dusted themselves off. Tak clapped his younger cousin on the
back.

“
John, I swear, you never
get tired of an ass kicking.”

“
What? I’m guessing you
need medical attention right now. Don’t be too proud to seek it
out.”