Shaking Off the Dust (21 page)

“Not this time. Bill had to go, but I talked Rachel into going by telling her that our counterparts were very attractive and single. She pretended she didn’t care, but she perked up and decided it would be nice to go out for a while.”

“What about you? What’s your story, Jack?” I sat down on the couch across from his chair. His name fit him.

Takeshi hung up the phone and joined me on the sofa. He rubbed his hands together and urged me down to the floor in front of him.

Jack watched us. “My story is boring. Minnesota boy, marines, then worked Minneapolis PD four years. I was accepted to the FBI. Divorced, no kids.”

“And so efficient, even in your words,” I said.

Takeshi began his pressure points on my neck. I cranked my face up to him. “If you try that putting-me-to-sleep crap, I’m going to be a very unhappy companion when I wake up.”

He put my head back into alignment. “I’ve learned my lesson.” He continued to apply pressure and I closed my eyes to enjoy the sensation.

“Hannah, wake up.”

I rolled over to pull blankets around me, but instead I caught someone’s arm. I was too tired to open my eyes, so I moved my head to a more comfortable position. Fingers were caressing my face.

I sat up groggy and took in my surroundings. I was on the couch. A pillow lay in Takeshi’s lap, where my head had been.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

I put my hand over my face and rubbed my eyes. I got up, gave him a scathing look and marched into the bedroom. As the door shut, I could hear Jack’s voice.

“You’re in trouble now.”

I went into the bathroom and splashed my face with cold water. Takeshi came to the door and I slammed it in his face. I hissed a litany of curses loud enough for him to hear me. I pulled the door open.

“Fuck you, Shimodo. I warned you what you could look forward to.”

He leaned against the wall, outside the door, blocking the way. I swung at him and hit his chest. I went to hit him again and he caught my hands. “Get out of my way. I’m getting my stuff and moving back into the other room. I won’t stand for this. You can’t treat me like a child.”

“Hannah, be quiet!” His voice was harsh.

I stopped talking and stared at him. I’d never heard him shout. He was angry. That was unacceptable. I was mad at him. He was not allowed to be angry at me.

He pulled me against him and looked into my face, from inches away. “I plan to treat you very much like a woman and there’s not much time.”

He picked me up and carried me to the bed, setting me against a mound of pillows as his mouth covered mine in a fierce, demanding kiss.

I reveled in the warmth of his body against mine. My skin was alive with sensation as I sank into the heat of him. I tasted the cavern of his mouth, pleasure deepening our kiss. He was an artist stripping away any clothing to allow the delicate layering of one sensation after another. Our kiss broke in a gasp.

His tongue created a warm, wet trail under my breast. He used his teeth to harden my nipples, then captured as much as he could in his mouth pulling as he suckled, lifting me off the bed. His amazing fingers disappeared into my gym pants. I jerked as he found my sex and teased that sensitive nub with his thumb. A finger created moisture as it caressed my slit over and over. I was damp and open when that finger slid into me. I squirmed until I managed to get my pants and panties off. He used two of his fingers preparing me for his invasion.

I put my hand over my mouth, because I couldn’t seem to stop making sounds. Wet from his ministrations, I lifted my body, arching my back until there was no doubt he understood how much I wanted him inside me.

He pushed my fist away and his mouth covered mine. I groaned and used my free hands to reach down and unzip his pants. Once he was free, I brought him straight into me. I think I screamed when he entered, but he swallowed the cry as we buried our noises deep into each other, as he buried himself inside of me.

I rocked against him as he thrust in and out. He swung me around, until I was on top. Our mouths never parted as his hands and strong arms lifted me up and down. I clawed his chest and I think I almost passed out when I came.

He held me until I stopped trembling, but he hadn’t come and he rolled me under him again, still joined.

He began slow but powerful strokes. Reaching down, I placed a finger at my entrance, so each stroke slid against my finger. I tried to increase the rhythm, but he refused to vary his speed. He sighed each time he came into me, each thrust deeper. As the angle changed, he settled into a position that brought the most sounds from me.

He broke our kiss to watch my face, his pace finally building. I panted, making keening noises, quiet but growing louder. He began to talk low and guttural in Japanese, his voice one more layer of pleasure. I spiraled into a bliss so strong I was literally airborne. He covered my mouth, catching my scream as if it was a piece of his own happiness, anchoring me to his body.

“You are mine,” he growled, starting to pull out.

But he couldn’t. I was wrapped around him like a barnacle, every possible inch of skin melted into his.

He pulled me even closer, his body jerking, his hips fitted to mine.

We stayed in a heap until we could catch our breaths. I writhed underneath him. He grunted and ground into me again. I didn’t mind, in fact I liked it. I don’t know how long we stayed that way. I let the postcoital lethargy suck me under. He’d managed once again to put me to sleep.

The return of Rachel and Bill woke me. I was curled against my man, and he trailed his fingers along my spine.

“It’s going to take quite a bit more than making the earth move for me to get over the whole putting-me-to-sleep thing,” I scolded softly.

“We need to shower again.” He rolled until he stood. “You realize”—his voice serious—“that we didn’t use a condom this time, or at your home the night Marv came for us. It was my fault. I should have been prepared.”

I didn’t say anything. I guess I knew we had not been careful, but there had been so many other things to worry about.

“So you wouldn’t want a child?” he asked.

“I love children. I don’t believe I can carry a child. I know the experience of counting on it. I got over it.”

“What about you and me, could you see us with a family?”

“Don’t you understand what I’ve told you, Takeshi? I learned a very brutal lesson. You can’t count on anything. I know right now that you are with me and I want you desperately. Will you be with me tomorrow? Or next week? I refuse to count on that future.”

“Hannah, there’s more than this moment. I know there is.” He reached out with his hand and touched my face. “There is our whole life together.”

“Don’t count on it, Takeshi. It’ll break your heart.” I wanted to think about anything else. I headed into the shower.

I hated that we lost that moment because of my bleak outlook. I was a jaded soul and so busy protecting myself from being hurt again that I was losing these small pieces of happiness. I’d do better. I told him I couldn’t count on the future, but in truth I was. I’d chosen to see the bleakest outcome possible. That way I’d never be disappointed.

We had supper with the three. The evening was short, but I was exhausted. I wonder why? We got into

bed and he curled into my side, touching my arm like it was a petal.

I draped my leg and hip over his, pulling him towards me. His body nestled into mine, firm and aroused.

I loved that I could make him rigid, so fast. I stroked him, the skin soft and silky, over the hardness of his erection. I watched his face while I touched him. His eyes had gone to that sexual place, full of desire and need. His hand drifted down finding my sex, those skillful fingers already causing my bottom to move in an ancient rhythm.

“You need to sleep, Hannah,” he whispered, an echo on the air.

“I need what I have this moment. You are so beautiful. The world is spinning out of control when someone as amazing as you, would want someone like me.”

He moved above me. “You are my perfect fit in every way.”

At nine exactly there was a knock on the door. Bill answered and I called for Tom. He appeared, looking at everyone. “You better today?” He glanced from me to Shimodo.

“Yeah, fine.”

Bill brought our guests into the room. “I recognize two of them from the hangar,” Tom announced.

Three Spanish investigators sat across from me. Takeshi took the chair on my left. He’d taken that side since day one, especially in bed. I guess I’d realized it on some unconscious level, but in truth, after two years, I still forgot I was deaf in my right ear. He never did.

Bill sat on my right and Tom sort of hung out. Jack and Rachel were in the lounge chairs, which they’d moved closer to the table.

I decided within a few minutes that Spain must be filled with attractive men. The three sitting across from me were all of medium height, dark and handsome. From right to left, I was introduced to Enrique Eneas, Hector Norbert and Mateo Quinton. I requested a piece of paper and wrote down their names with arrows pointing to them. They found that amusing.

They asked me if Tom was around. Once I replied yes, they appeared ready to begin. Mateo seemed to be the spokesman for the group and his English was excellent, with only the slightest of accents.

“He’s very smooth. He comes to the hangar where they are reassembling the plane with Hector here.”

Tom pointed to the man in the middle. He used my handmade name cards and smiled at them. “Oh and he’s been flirting with one of the female engineers there, Elena. She wears a badge, so I’ve seen her name a lot. I heard her talk to one of the other woman. She’s very interested in him. You should tell him.”

“You’ve been hanging out there the last few days?” I asked Tom.

The three Spanish men watched me with interest.

“Dr. Mecurio is relaying information?” Mateo inquired.

“He’s been hanging out at the hangar, where you are reconstructing the plane. You know I was ill for a

couple of days and he found other interests during that time.” I looked at them and they nodded their heads. “He tells me you have been there often with Hector. You flirt with Elena. She’s very interested in you by the way.”

Mateo’s eyes darkened. “What else does he tell you?”

“That’s it for the moment. What questions would you have him answer?”

“Many,” he said enigmatically. He opened a notebook and I could see a long list in Spanish. The first twenty or so were questions about Tom and me. They had watched his every move on security cameras in the airport before the plane crash and the questions were to confirm he was telling the truth. They didn’t want to believe anything until it was verified in their notebook.

After the initial questions, they started going through the list of passenger names I’d given in my scan recording. The many personal questions required Tom to pop out to get information. When he returned, I’d regurgitate the answers to our interrogators. The first time seemed very awkward.

“Agent Quinton, Tom doesn’t know those answers, so he goes to that person,” I explained while we waited for him to return.

“You mean ghosts?”

“Person, ghost, whatever we want to call it. He goes to them with the questions. It would go quicker if we were at the hangar or plane crash site or even if you brought some DNA of each person. He could just ask them the question or better yet, they’d hear the questions themselves and cut out all the repetition.”

“What kind of DNA evidence?” Agent Eneas was taking many notes.

“Hair is the easiest example,” Takeshi answered.

Bill cleared his throat. “We mentioned in our report that according to Miss Campbell and Dr. Shimodo’s theory, the spirits of these people are tied to their physical body. The ghosts can be in their homes, where there are hairs in combs or brushes or skin cells in the bathroom or carpet. Miss Campbell claims Tom met them all at the plane crash site or hangar, where blood, hair and tissue residual are still intact.”

“Yes, I read your report. You also state that you can detect their presence if they touch you, by a coldness of human tissue. This is true?” Agent Eneas appeared dubious.

Everyone on our side nodded their head.

“Yes,” Takeshi spoke for the group. “We can have Tom demonstrate this to you when he returns, if you would like.”

All three of the Spanish agents agreed.

They waited patiently for their questions to be answered and never gave any indication whether the answers were right or wrong, or if they even mattered. After three hours of questioning, Takeshi announced we needed to take a break. He asked if perhaps we could all go for lunch, then come back for a couple hours more of questioning.

They chose a restaurant within walking distance of the hotel. As we crossed through the hotel lobby, I noticed several men turn to watch us pass and wondered if they were more security.

I was near Bill and Mateo and heard them discuss that the press were watching everything related to the crash. I guessed that meant they’d be suspicious of the new Americans hanging out with the lead investigators on the case.

The air was brisk and I’d worn my black leather jacket. I leaned into Takeshi as we walked. We reached the restaurant and got a large round table. I noticed that two men had followed us from the hotel lobby.

Tom had come along and was in the middle of the table. He hung around to pester me. I told him to pick on Takeshi for a while. Surprisingly, he went behind Takeshi and played Morse code on his back.

I discreetly pointed to the men who were looking elsewhere. “Those two followed us from the hotel and have been keeping an eye over here. Who are they?”

Mateo glanced at them and returned his attention to me. His eyes were green with long, dark eyelashes.

His nose was straight but not too wide, and he showed white teeth as his lips fell into a smile.

He didn’t have Takeshi’s masculine beauty, but they shared some similar qualities. I turned to face my new man to remind myself of his features. He smiled, pleased I’d turned to him. I looked back to Mateo.