No Ordinary Love (13 page)

Sex and nothing else.

With Kenji, I could never consider sex, not with an intriguing infatuation swirling in my head. Things like that led to more. We both had no time for more.

Remember the book. Forget about the man.

Still, I spent even more hours reading articles on his life. The more information I consumed, the louder my heart beat, and worry shivered under my skin.

I’ll have to be careful this time.

Later that night, Jun guided me around Castle in the Sky. I held my old voice recorder and made sure it was on as Jun talked. Strips of black and red fabric formed a sleeveless dress around my body. Zo had placed me in silver spiked heels. The rest of the shoes were black with white Japanese characters at the tip. I didn’t know who did these shoes, but I was slowly becoming a fan.

Zo claimed that he’d been slyly dressing me for war, the black and red strips serving as warning signs to Kenji to leave me alone. The spiked heels gave me a weapon to use just in case. I doubted the colors would matter. The dress hugged every curve of my body and had every male in the soapland staring at me. Zo figured Kenji would see the symbolism in the outfit. I bet my friend a hundred yen that all Kenji would notice were my breasts jiggling and the fabric strangling my behind.

I shouldn’t have worn this.

Having Kenji’s attention would be frightening. I had Jun’s current state as a reminder that the man was only a ferocious dragon after all.

He told me he wouldn't hurt Jun. He lied.

Jun and I had been walking through the huge building for an hour. It was the most uncomfortable tour of my life. Not that Jun hadn't given me valuable information. My gaze just couldn't stray away from his broken arm or the new gashes on his face and neck. He'd been roughed up, no doubt by Kenji's men. I'd asked Kenji not to hurt Jun and to just get me my money back, instead the Dragon allowed the opposite. Fury boiled in my veins. I hated liars and violent dickheads even more.

Jun's finger shook as he pointed to the stairwell. “Would you like to go to the second level?”

“Yes, please.” I wasn't sure if I should apologize to Jun and if my pitiful sorry would've even mattered. “How many levels are in this building?”

“Officially four. As far as the customers know, it's only three.”

I trailed behind him as he wobbled his big body up the steps. “What happens on the fourth level?”

“Mr. Sato asked that I limit my answers to only discussion on the soaplands and nothing else.”

“Okay.”

Alrighty. I won't push for any information dealing with the fourth floor. Sounds like that's absolutely none of my business, and I'm already causing enough trouble.

As we traveled up the staircase, I drank in more of the surroundings. Massive erotic paintings decorated the walls—naked women making love in a forest surrounded by erect druids, ballerinas shedding their clothes in the middle of a performance, a solid black queen being pleasured by hundreds of itsy bitsy white and red men, and my favorite—hormone-crazed angels humping in the clouds.

Jun tapped my back with his cast. “Are you coming, Ms. Palmer?”

The whole scene was starting to turn me on, from the enticing women catering to male customers to the erotic décor. My body's temperature increased, but I calmed myself down and cleared my throat. “Yep, I'm coming.”

I continued upwards.

“The lower priced bathing rooms are on the second level. I'm to take you to our high-end areas on the third floor.” Jun rushed me to the next level.

“Why the third floor?”

“Mr. Sato is waiting there with a customer and two bathers who have agreed to let you watch their session.”

Exhilaration streamed through me, but I had to be careful. Looking at Jun's broken arm told me all I needed to know about Kenji. If I hadn't already figured he was ruthless, then I would’ve known for sure that evening. There was no way I would do more than date him. Although I pretended to be unfazed in front of Zo, I wasn't stupid enough to not to be afraid of Kenji.

And I have to finish this book and show them all I deserve my success.

Steady downtempo music drifted from the third floor. There, the lighting glowed a violet hue that tinted my skin purplish-brown. Jun looked like a blueberry as he led me forward. Huge black men stood in the hallway. There must've been six of them. I counted the doors and realized it was the same number as guys. The men flanked each doorway and stared forward, their gazes never lingering my way as I passed.

“This is where the rich guys get bathed?” I walked on Jun's right.

“Yes.” He gave me more space as if I smelled bad or something. “The rich ones with bigger budgets than the rest.”

“How much is it?”

“A private bathing on the second level is 90,000 yen, which is over eight hundred U.S. dollars.”

“That's actually cheaper than what I thought it would be. The higher-end, legal brothels in Nevada are around $1,500 for an hour.”

Jun nodded, but I doubted he knew or cared what I was talking about. “The price I told you is just to get the customer into the bathing room. There are extra fees, from toiletries to whatever further services the women have agreed to. But once they've gotten to this level, all pleasures are attended to. Afterwards, we have a car take them to their destination so that they don't have to walk or take the train.”

“Do the women
have
to have sex with the customers?” I asked.

“I don't understand what you're asking.” He stopped in front of the last door.

“Can these women turn down the Castle's customers if they decide they're not interested in having sex with them?”

“We all try our best not to say no here.”

“But there are times when someone has to say no, right?”

“Yes.” He gazed at the door as if done with our conversation. “Of course. But then the girl, or I, would have to get Mr. Sato to talk with them, and all parties usually hope not to disturb him.”

I see. They wouldn't want the Dragon to blow any flames because with that man, someone is definitely getting burned. If not the girl, then the customer for pleading for something too ungodly.

Jun held his uninjured hand up to the door, but didn't knock. “Before we enter, do you have any more questions for me?”

I'd surely asked him enough about the business side of things. Although the soaplands charged the customers for rooms, the women gave the establishment thirty percent of their daily earnings. Jun kept calling it a service fee for the women. When I asked what the service fee covered, he mumbled some bullcrap about security and the cleaning crew. It was a somewhat fair point. The women had to be safer inside the building than getting paid for sex out on the streets. However, thirty percent was a decent chunk, and with these high prices, I was sure these ladies covered all of the business's expenses by themselves.

Kenji and his crew had to be making tons of money.

“How much are these rooms on the second level?” I asked.

“150,000 yen.”

Well, damn.

“So, over $1,400,” I said. “Do they pay more when they're inside the room?”

“Yes.”

“How much do you think these women make in a night? In U.S. dollars.”

“It’s hard to say. They probably get another thousand or more for the actual experience after the bathing. It depends on everything that they've done.” He rubbed his chin. “I would say the average girl bathes three to four guys a night. The bolder ones can get up to seven customers, if they stay here past their shifts. They’re making anywhere from five to eight thousand a night.”

I may be in the wrong field.

I considered some more questions. “So, wait a minute, there's a lot of men downstairs. Does everybody come upstairs?”

“No. Some customers simply bring business clients here for entertainment. They pay on the floor, ordering drinks and food. Some get massages or pay for the women's meals.” He held his hand back up to the door. “Are we done, Ms. Palmer?”

“No.”

Instead of looking straight at me, he kept his hand in midair and gazed at the space behind me. “How can I help you?”

I looked down at the floor. Zo told me to never make eye contact with anyone, that it would come off as a confrontation. “I'm sorry for your arm. I didn't want you to get hurt. I just wanted my money back.”

“Are there any other questions, Ms. Palmer?”

“No. Thank you.”

He said nothing else and tapped on the door.

What had I expected, for him to give me a big hug and leap for joy at my apology? And was Jun really that innocent? Surely there'd been some rule he'd broken. Maybe he wasn't supposed to bribe on business time. Perhaps he should've included Kenji and his ruffians in the deal. Hadn’t he been just as at fault as me? I comforted myself with those thoughts. Still, my stomach bound into painful knots.

The door opened.

Kenji stood on the other side. Tonight, he was in relaxed mode—black pants, beige shirt that formed nicely around his body, and polished shoes. His black hair appeared looser, as if he'd been raking his fingers through it all day in a state of worry. He checked his watch and spit out Japanese to Jun. They went back and forth for a few seconds—Kenji slicing the air with his words and Jun doing small bows.

“What are you saying?” I asked Kenji.

The Dragon continued to stare at Jun. “He brought you here late.”

“Well,” I said. “I kept Jun busy. It’s not his fault.”

Kenji shifted his view to mine. “What were you two busy doing?”

Umm
…
I don't like the way you're asking me that.

“I kept Jun busy by asking loads of questions.”

Jun did a deep bow and whispered several words to Kenji. It must've done the trick because Kenji finally excused Jun and grasped my hand. Warmth encased my fingers. I hated that initial reaction, that thing his presence always did when he came close to me. A thrill grew inside my chest. Visions of him touching more than my hand overtook me. I was pitiful to say the least. I needed space and maybe a one-night stand with someone else to clear my mind.

“So what am I late for?” I tried to move my hand away from his.

Kenji wouldn’t let me escape. “Come inside.”

Just to be spiteful, I remained where I stood. “Why?”

He gripped my fingers tighter and grinned. “Remember. You promised to listen to me.”

“I promised to try my best to listen and if I didn't then you would give me reasonable alternatives.” I dug my hand into my purse and yanked out my panties. “In fact, here you go.”

Laughing, he grabbed them, placed the red silk to his nose, and inhaled. “No.”

“No?”

“I won't accept these.” He handed them back to me. “They don't smell like you. They're clean.”

I stuffed the underwear back into my purse. “I figured that was the best way. Clean panties always make me happy.”

“Not me.” He directed his gaze to my legs. “Do you have panties on right now?”

“Yes.”

“I want those.”

“Of course you do,” I muttered.

“But not now, after we leave.”

“We'll see.”

He paused. “We'll see?”

“You lied to me.”

“How?”

“You told me you wouldn't hurt Jun.” I gestured to where the poor man had exited. “He looks hurt to me.”

His smile shifted to annoyance. “What did Jun say?”

“Nothing. He didn't have to say anything. I have eyes and a brain that works just fine.”

“There are things that must be done to—”

“I asked you not to hurt him.”

“I told my men the same, but when they're pushed into a corner where he refuses to admit that he took the money and claims he doesn't know the location of it , then … my men use other ways to get the truth. By the way, your money is in my office in an envelope.”

“I don't want it anymore.”

“You're lying and being ridiculous for no reason.”

“I don't like men who hurt people.”

“I don't know many men that don't.”

“Then you should get new friends.”

“If only I could.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What can I do to make up for this?”

“Don't do it again, and … ”

What? I have no idea what I'm even trying to fix. I guess I'm just scared he'll hurt me.

He came closer to me. “Jun works for my group by choice. When one works with us, they know the rules and consequences. Jun is no saint. He's done things in his life that would afford him more injury. Taking money from you was dishonorable and stupid. He's done things like this before and I let him off. This time, with his deliberate lying, a point had to be made.”

“And if he does this again?”

“Well, no one’s that stupid, so why consider it?” He sighed. “Are you worried that I'll hurt you?”

“Of course. You've known Jun longer than me and had no problem hurting him.”

“Never compare yourself to him or any other in this city. What you are to me is something more. No one touches you out of anger, not even me. I'm not a man that beats on women. There's no honor in abuse, no salvation for people who beat on those weaker than them.”

“I'm not weaker than you.”

“No, you're not.” He smirked and led me deeper into the room. “Come. My customer is eager to begin. They’ll be coming up here soon. I asked Jun to bring them.”

Candlelight illuminated the dark space. Polished, black tile covered the floor. The walls boasted tiles too, but these held a sea-green hue in the dim lighting. The soothing sound of dripping water filled the air. I turned that way and spotted a small, violet waterfall sending the glowing liquid into a stream built into the floor and bordering most of the room.

Wow.

The bathing space was huge and looked like a hidden water area for the sensually twisted. You could've fit Zo’s entire apartment in that one space. Glass sex toys hung on the wall. In the center of the huge room, a silver, plastic bed rested. A shelf of luxury oils and soap stood on the side. Right next to it were two buckets full of water. Steam rose from the liquid. A flowery fragrance thickened the air.