Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 115388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“But you gave him your panties.”
“He sent a courier for them.”
“Of course he did, because you sent the picture of the panties.”
“He sent a dirty picture first.”
“Because you told him about the dream.”
“Well. . .he inspired the dream. So, it’s still his fault.”
Zo shook his head, grinning the whole time. “I think a BDSM second date would blow his fucking mind. There is no way he would suspect it from you.”
“Shoot. I don’t expect it from me.”
“He’s the one with the power, right?”
“Exactly.”
“So, flip it. Show up in leather and heels. Then, give him orders in candlelight.”
“Oh my God.”
The train pulled into the next station.
The brakes hissed.
The doors opened.
A few passengers got off. One of the guards nodded at a woman with a baby stroller. The woman flinched then darted away.
Zo grabbed my attention. “Should I make some calls?”
I stared out the window again as the doors slid shut and the train glided forward and for a few minutes, I let myself sink into the fantasy.
A BDSM second date. What would that even look like?
Candlelight dripping down long black tapers. My body wrapped in silk or maybe red leather with laces up the side.
A chair in the center of the room—throne-like but simple.
Bare.
Waiting.
Kenji would walk in and freeze.
No words.
No commands.
Just me . . .seated.
Poised.
Watching him with hooded eyes and slow breath.
I could picture the way his jaw would clench, the silent war that would ripple through his spine. That twitch in his temple like he was barely keeping it together.
God, what would it feel like to unmake a man like that?
To strip away his control and perceived traditions.
To touch him and say, Don’t move.
To have him obey me.
The Dragon, vulnerable.
A delicious shiver rushed over my spine.
The thought wasn’t just hot, it was terrifying. Because if I did this. . .if I opened that door, I would have to walk through it too. That meant more than lingerie and leather cuffs.
It meant trust.
It meant learning what I liked.
What I feared.
What I wanted when no one was watching.
Do I even know? And. . .the date has to be more than just sex and power.
There had to be space for softness too. Context and culture.
If I wanted to seduce him into surrendering, I also had to give him a window into me.
What would that even look like?
Maybe I’d cook for him. Something my grandmother taught me. Red beans and rice from scratch. Fried plantains the way she made them when I was sick. Sweet tea so strong it gives you cavities and therapy.
I chuckled.
Or maybe I’d play him my favorite music.
A playlist that told my story. Not just the sexy stuff. The Sunday-cleaning jams. The heartbreak anthems. The protest songs that made me cry in college when I was too broke to go home.
No. That sounds crazy.
Zo leaned over. “What’s the answer?”
“Could I do a BDSM date?”
“The best part of this life is that you can do anything you want.”
I let out a long breath. “Call your people.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Let’s see.”
“Dear God,” Zo shook his head. “He really is going to kidnap you after this.”
Chapter twenty
The Dragon’s Roar
Nyomi
The rest of the day had been a whirlwind of madness and mischief—just the kind Zo specialized in.
After our chaotic train ride, I spent the afternoon hopping around Tokyo with his insane circle of fashion savants, avant-garde performance artists, and at least one retired boyband backup dancer who now made couture collars for Shiba Inus. They were loud, opinionated, effortlessly stylish, and utterly inappropriate.
I loved every second of it.
By the afternoon, Zo’s crew didn’t just help me plan a date, they orchestrated a whole damn experience.
A plot twist.
A seduction.
A coup d’etat in candlelight.
By the time night fell, I was staring down the barrel of the wildest plan I’d ever agreed to.
Kenji had called twice.
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I texted him a simple: Busy today. Talk soon.
Which was a lie.
I wasn’t busy. I was scared I would blurt everything out the moment I heard his voice. My nervous system was so strung out, one syllable from him would’ve cracked me open like a fortune cookie. And the last thing I wanted to do was spoil the surprise.
So, I hid behind ellipses and emojis and forced myself to wait.
The next morning, his Roar called.
Reo.
His voice slid through the phone like warm sake—rich, low, and laced with quiet authority. “Ms. Palmer, I was told you’d be prepared for my call.”
I blinked caught completely off guard.
Oh no. Not him having a sexy voice like that.
Smooth and slow like it belonged in a jazz lounge at midnight. . .or in my ear while I touched myself.
For a second, I forgot he was Kenji’s Roar and not some voice actor for premium-grade erotica.
Be loyal to the Dragon, Nyomi. You can’t be out here melting over his Roar’s voice.
I cleared my throat and forced myself to focus. “Yes. I am prepared.”