Prickly Romance: Single Dad AMBW (Billionaire Dads)

DEJONAE

“That’s it? There was no sexy time after you put Niko to bed?”

I shake my head as I push the basket of baked potato chips over to Vanya. “None. It was so weird. He seemed kind of… I don’t know… distant.”

“What exactly did you do all night?” Yaya gestures. “You texted me that you got home after midnight.”

“We watched a movie and then he called Akira to stay with Niko while he drove me to my apartment.”

Vanya’s eyebrows crash together. She looks gorgeous as usual in a thigh-baring red rumper. Big, chunky white sunglasses hold her hair away from her face.

We’re sitting in an outdoor courtyard, a large red umbrella blocking out the sun. The gardens surrounding us are well-tended, flowers blooming in a colorful array.

“I thought we’d cuddle, kiss or something in the couch. But he was so distracted. It felt like he didn’t realize I was there.”

“Did you talk to him about it?” Yaya signs.

“No.” I snort. That would be emotionally mature of me.

“What did you do then?” Yaya gestures.

“I refused to hold his hand in the car and didn’t hug him back when he said goodnight.”

Vanya gasps. “You threw a tantrum?”

“I wanted him to explain what was wrong, but he was quiet the entire way. It was like a switch went off. He didn’t even notice that I was upset.”

Vanya swirls her glass of orange juice around. Her nails are painted bright orange with diamonds in the center. “Do you think he felt awkward when it was just the two of you?”

My sister signs and I interpret out loud for Vanya, “You haven’t seen them together yet, have you? Sazuki and Dejonae are many things, but awkward isn’t one of them.”

I push my straw around my drink as a contemplative silence fills the table. Yaya is leaving soon, which is why I reached out to Vanya today, hoping she’d be willing to meet. My sister almost fainted when Vanya came gliding out of her car to meet us. But now that we’re talking about my relationship, the hero worship has faded.

Vanya leans forward. “What if you talked to Sazuki about how you felt? I’m sure there’s an explanation.”

“When did this become about me?” I gesture between them. “Yaya, you’re supposed to be getting modeling tips from a celebrity.”

“I’m not worthy,” Yaya signs. “Plus your love life is juicier.”

Vanya’s eyes light up after I translate what my sister said.

“I don’t mind talking about modeling, but she’s not wrong. This is juicy stuff.”

“I wish I had juicier details.” I pout.

“Let’s just stop for a moment and take this in. Ryotaro Sazuki, from the legendary Sazuki family, a man who doesn’t talk to anyone or anything unless he has to, is letting you into his life. Even more than that, he’s letting you into his daughter’s life. The fact that such an extremely private man trusts you is a big deal. Maybe he was quiet because he enjoys being quiet with you.”

I’m glad to see Vanya getting excited again. Her eyes are clearer too. It seems like Hadyn’s plan worked. After our chai intervention a while back, Vanya’s bouncing back to her old self.

I just wish my love life wasn’t the topic at hand.

“He’s been quiet with me before. I’ve been working for his foundation for a while now. I’ve seen him in all kinds of situations. I know how his angry quiet feels. I know how his thoughtful quiet feels. This was different. He was worried about something and rather than talk to me about it, he retreated.”

“How has it been at work?” Yaya asks.

“He’s been out all morning. We texted, but I haven’t seen him since last night.”

Vanya tilts her head. “You think he might be putting distance between you because of your age gap?”

Yaya taps her hands on the table and points to Vanya in agreement.

“If my age was a problem, he wouldn’t have asked me to be with him in the first place.”

“You’re several years younger than him. Maybe he doesn’t want to push you too hard. This is technically the beginning of your relationship. Plus you said he only married his first wife because she got pregnant and that didn’t work out. It’s possible he’s going slow with you because he wants to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?”

“I don’t know. I’m not Sazuki.”

“Or maybe he doesn’t think you’re mature enough,” Yaya signs.

Her words hit me hard.

Is that it?

Sazuki has feelings for me. I’m sure of that. The way he watches me, like he wants nothing more than to kiss me until our clothes come off, isn’t just in my head.

But being sexually attracted to someone and building a relationship with someone are two different things.

Sazuki doesn’t trust me with his thoughts yet.

And maybe that’s a trust I haven’t earned, but it still hurts.

I wish I knew what was going on with him.

After lunch, I return to work.

Sheila is in the lobby like an emotional vulture circling around my bloody carcass. I sling her a dark look of warning when she approaches me, but she doesn’t heed it.

Stopping right in front of me so there’s no room to step aside, she frowns. “Nice article this morning.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Beverly, the reporter you punched in the face?”

When the heck did I punch anyone in the face?

“She had nothing but good things to say about The Sazuki Foundation. She even made sure to clarify that the post she made was just a misunderstanding. I wonder how much they had to pay to shut her up.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I try to step past her.

Sheila follows me. “Obviously, Sazuki is trying to protect you. I wonder why.”

“The video editing company asked for the parent release forms.” I fold my arms over my chest and face her. “If you have nothing to do, you can photocopy the documents and send it over.”

Her top lip curls up in a sneer. “Do it yourself.” She stalks past me, making sure to knock into my shoulder as she goes. Her purple hair swishes back and forth like a My Little Pony tail. Should I just grab on and yank?

No more fighting, Deej. You barely got out of the last one with your job intact.

Gritting my teeth, I head upstairs to the admin team. They all stare at me like I’m a pariah. The PR crisis has been averted, but it will take a while for me to earn back their respect after Beverly’s allegations. Everyone thinks I’m an impulsive, hot-headed idiot who nearly shut the foundation down.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll photocopy the forms myself,” I say awkwardly when no one gets up to help me with the task.

My heart pinches, but I force myself not to look as defeated as I feel. Sazuki knows the truth about what happened in that bathroom.

I do too.

It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks of me.

After finishing with the photocopy machine, I scan the release forms for the PR company. Just after pressing ‘send’, I hear the elevator doors and the steady thud of footsteps.

My heart knows even before he turns the bend.

Sazuki.

The sight of him, in a simple white button down and pinstripe trousers, takes my breath away. He looks fit enough to be a medieval pirate. But instead of pillaging the sea for gold, he goes around stealing hearts.

I watch him as he draws closer.

His eyes are distant.

Although he’s looking forward, he’s not really seeing me or the office or anything else. I can tell that there’s something weighing on his mind.

I drop my gaze to the computer when he notices me. Pulling up a file, I scroll through it and make a point not to look at him even though my heart is pumping fast.

Sazuki makes a beeline for my desk, his steps strong and sure. His scent wafts over me, making my heart waver.

His voice is a deep, secret thrum when he says, “Miss Williams.”

“Mr. Sazuki,” I return coldly.

“Can I see you in my office?”

I stop abruptly. Lips pursed, I look up. “Is this regarding work matters?”

An eyebrow hikes in surprise.

“If not then,” I scowl at my watch, “I have to double-check the edited footage of the kids’ performance this morning. Nova asked me to handle it personally and I can’t let her down.”

He steps back when I gather my binders and stalk away from the desk. I can feel his gaze burning into me.

My chest contracts on a sigh.

Was that the most mature way to handle things?

Probably not.

But what could I say? Hey, boss. I thought we’d be getting hot and heavy in your couch while your daughter was sleeping last night. The fact that you didn’t touch me and you seemed checked out made me feel some type of way. Can you tell me what’s going on so I don’t jump to every bad conclusion in the world?

I’d sound like a crazy person.

Even worse, I’d sound like a weak person.

The last thing I want to appear as is naive and clingy. Akira already warned me that Sazuki will have other priorities besides me. Maybe this is how being low on the priority pole looks.

Besides, I really do have a lot of work today. Beverly published a glowing article, but we still have to make sure there are no lasting negative effects on the foundation. This is my responsibility.

Sazuki is in a video conference when I return to my desk. A part of me is relieved. I feared he would corner me when I left to go to school. I don’t think I could have resisted if he offered to drive me to campus.

In the bus, I feel my phone buzz.

Sazuki: Did you leave? I wanted to take you to school.

I ignore the text.

Whether he’s blocking me out because he thinks I’m immature or because he wants to protect me, I don’t care anymore. I’m determined to get over myself. There will be way bigger obstacles in our path later. Something as small as him being distracted during a date shouldn’t be a big deal, right?

This time, at least, I’m going to trust him.

Sazuki: When is your first class?

I stare at my phone and then I type back.

Dejonae: I’ll be finished soon. We can talk after.

I focus on the lecturer droning on about science. Why a music student needs to take a science class is beyond me, but I’m here to fulfil my credit requirements.

Movement at the end of the row catches my eye. I glance to the side and drop my pencil when I see Sazuki walking confidently toward me. He falls smoothly into the chair beside mine. His shoulders are so broad, they’re crowding me.

The temptation to turn to him and start firing questions is great, but I pull my hands into my lap and stare straight ahead.

This lecturer doesn’t care about late or absent students, but he doesn’t tolerate anyone disrupting his class. And he isn’t afraid to call students out either.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper.

“You were ignoring me.”

“No, I wasn’t.” I totally was.

“Since you were determined to ignore me,” he gestures to himself, “I am here. Determined to follow you until your anger is sated.”

My lips twitch.

Keep it professional, Deej.

“Following me around? Isn’t that stalking?”

“I don’t have time to stalk anyone.”

“Then why are you here? In my class? Next to me?”

“Because you are not just anyone.” His eyes capture mine. “You are my girlfriend.”

My lips stretch with a smile, but I squelch it quickly before he thinks it’s that easy to console me. “I told you I didn’t want people at school to find out about us.”

“They will not. I was discreet on my way here.” His eyes remain on me. “I am also aware that you do not share this class with any of your fellow music majors who are more likely to know and understand who I am.”

I narrow my eyes playfully. “Fine. I’ll allow it. Today.”

He smiles.

Straightening my shoulders, I try to focus on the lecture, but it’s practically impossible. Sazuki is rubbing his thumb over the back of my knuckles. Our legs are pressing against each other, from thigh to ankles.

He’s a grumpy, pushy, mysterious jerkhead sometimes, but he’s here. And he’s unbelievably gorgeous. And I’m so tired of giving him the cold shoulder.

My eyes dart to the clock.

The lecturer is still talking.

When will this class end?

I try to shove my thoughts back in order and away from the hunk next to me, but I fail. By the time the class is over, I have no idea what the lesson was about.

“Come on.” I tug on Sazuki’s arm.

He points behind him when I take him to the back exit. “Why are we not going that way?”

“You didn’t bring your bodyguards this time, right?” I arch a brow.

“They are more like a public appearance protection team.”

“Either way, I can’t protect you if we get mobbed. Better to avoid the main path than take any chances.”

His long legs eat up the steps as we run away. “In such a situation, I would be the one protecting you.”

“Is now really the time to argue with me?” I lead him into the hall and look both ways.

He stops me by tugging on my hand. “Why were you upset with me this morning?”

“I…”

A group of students turn the corner and walk past us. They give us funny stares. Dressed up in his white shirt and trousers, Sazuki looks like a lecturer or a special guest. In contrast, I’m wearing jeans, a T-shirt and sneakers. Not only do I look younger than him, but I look a lot less put-together.

They’re probably thinking the worst.

I drop my hand and step back.

Sazuki frowns at me and takes my hand again.

I hiss, “Sazuki.”

He links our fingers and holds on tight so I can’t get away no matter how hard I tug.

“You were about to say something,” he insists.

I duck my head. “Not here.”

“Where then?”

My gaze strays to the students who are beginning to flood the hallway. “The library. Let’s go to the library.”

We dash into the building, taking the less crowded path. The librarians all stare in fascination when Sazuki walks in. It’s usually quiet in the library, but it gets so silent I could hear a pin drop.

I dig my fingers into Sazuki’s arm when we walk down the aisle of bookshelves. All the girls we stalk past are starting to take notice of him, their heads popping out of books and their greedy eyes lingering.

I struggle to push my possessiveness away. The pit of fury in my stomach is something I’ll have to get used to if I plan to stay with a man as arresting as Sazuki.

But it’s not a lesson I have to learn today.

I drag him into the reference section. The smell of dusty books fills the air. Sunshine pours through a few small windows near the roof.

“Okay.” I drop his hand. “We can talk here.”

He glances around. “Is this a secret room?”

“It might as well be. Most people don’t use the library for reference anymore. All the information we need is readily available on the internet.” I gesture to the small booth at the back of the room. “When I wanted to catch up on a nap after class, I usually came here. No one disturbed me.”

“You must have worked very hard to get where you are now.” He turns, showing off his strong profile. I thirstily absorb the angle of his jaw to the slope of his throat and the pale skin disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt.

My voice is raw with a hunger that has nothing to do with food. “I did what I had to do. As everyone does.”

He shakes his head. “You choose the strangest things to be humble about.”

I stare frankly back at him.

The air carries a hint of something.

Something electric.

Something powerful.

Something overwhelming.

I want more of that feeling. I want it on my skin. Deeper than that. In my heart, firing up my veins like a cord snapping into a power grid.

Oh no.

I’m becoming obsessed and it hasn’t been that long since we started dating. How much more of myself am I going to lose to him? How much of myself am I going to discover?

Why does that both scare and invigorate me?

I feel him move closer. It’s like a hot, stretching thread that tightens and tightens as the distance between us disappears. One second, I’m standing by the table with my backpack on. The next, his arms close around me and snatch me against his body.

Anticipation bubbles in me with a violent force, but I can’t help teasing him. “Is this how mature adults solve their arguments, Mr. Sazuki? I only brought you here to talk.”

He whirls me around and pins me against the bookshelf. The smell of stories, weathered pages, and sunshine tangles with the scent of leaking desire.

His touch on my back presses harder. “If you only wished to talk, you should not have looked at me like that.”

I feel the smoke coming off my body.

I’m in flames. Singed.

But it doesn’t matter. Not when his mouth caresses mine and the last remnants of my anger and dejection fade away.

The kiss is firm and demanding. It’s like he’s digging deep inside me, reaching for the parts of me that I haven’t given to anyone else, and branding them with his name.

My heart squeezes and squeezes until it threatens to pop.

Mercy.

I scrape my fingers over his shoulder and across his back, fighting for purchase. Fighting to stay upright against the onslaught of hot pleasure. But it keeps battering me. Wave after wave. Like a volcano that’s already erupted, lava rushing down the mountain and devouring everything in its path.

Uncontainable.

Insatiable.

I grab for his hair, my fingers tingling, my knees buckling, my body disintegrating into hot ash as he spears me with his lips and tongue.

Something rattles behind me.

The bookshelf.

A book hurtles toward my head.

I gasp and duck, but Sazuki moves fast. He slips the book back into place, pressing me deeper into the bookshelf until I can feel every part of him like an imprint on my body. His hand leaves the book and traces down my shoulder, deliciously rough, the tip of his fingers hardened by years of playing the piano.

I’m being hypnotized.

He leans down again, back to being gentle, and grazes his mouth across my lips. A low whimper escapes my throat and he growls in response, the sound rattling every bone in my mouth.

The savory kiss ends abruptly when he pulls back.

His chest brushes against mine.

I can feel the skitter of his heartbeat.

Hard against soft.

A flower trapped against a beast.

I whisper his name, begging for more. For relief. For everything that I dare not speak aloud.

“Please,” I whisper.

I would be ashamed if I wasn’t so needy for him. For his taste. For his body.

I arch against him. “I’ll be quiet.”

He looks down at me with a tortured expression.

Then he steps back.

The loss of his body against mine leaves me feeling bereft and cold. I wilt against the bookshelf, my fingers catching on the spines of old books. Why is he stopping?

I know he doesn’t want to.

I can see it.

So hard, so ready. When we were kissing, I could practically feel him charging at me through my clothes.

He curses in Japanese. I don’t know what he said. I don’t understand the language, but I understand the tension of his shoulders, the hardness of his jaw, and the glint of frustration in his brown eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He walks over to me again, kissing me with a hint of impatience. He traces a line of hungry-rough kisses down my jaw and throat. There is no hint of the regal Japanese emperor now. He’s shed his cloak of elegance, revealing the fairy tale beast underneath.

There’s something absolutely feral about the way he touches me. His hands slide under my T-shirt, but it’s messy this time. Like his mind isn’t fully here and he’s trying hard to escape into me. Trying hard to keep me with him.

The wild flutter of my pulse nearly sends me into cardiac arrest. I want to keep going, but the energy is off. I grip the back of his neck. Rising on my tiptoes, I press my lips to his in a sealing kiss.

He closes his eyes, his sharp nose brushing against mine.

My heart roaring, I ease back.

He looks down at me with eyes that smolder like twin storms in an endless universe. I brush my hand over his cheeks and sculpted jawline. My heart knows something isn’t right and I lean into it rather than shy away.

“Did something happen?” I search his eyes. Watch the way they cloud over defensively before he sighs and the walls go down.

Sazuki takes my hand and leads me away from the bookshelves. He sits in the booth and pulls me into his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck, watching him intently. Holding my breath. Waiting.

The fan above spins in a steady circle, pushing breeze into the hot pocket of the library. My leg dangles over his, the toe of my sneakers barely scraping the wooden floor.

Sazuki’s throat bobs. A line etches between his thick eyebrows. Beneath the surface, desire cools and is replaced with a foreboding feeling. A boot is dangling above my head and any minute now, it’ll descend, crushing me like a cockroach.

I slide my fingers over the back of his neck as he sighs. “Sazuki.”

“I wrestled with whether I should tell you this or not.” His eyes meet mine. I’m shocked to see the turmoil. Maybe it’s because we’re close now or maybe he’s letting me see the real him, but I never expected that he would wear his emotions so close to the surface.

His fingers grasp mine intently. “I do not want you to misunderstand or feel anxiety in any way.”

“You’re making me anxious right now,” I warn him. “Spit it out.”

He glances aside. “Yesterday, while you were putting Niko to bed, I received a call from Akira. She informed me that my mother and Ashanti were coming to visit.”

Twin bombs.

Boom.

Boom.

I almost totter off his lap. Sazuki gathers me close, his eyes boring into mine. “Dejonae.”

“When are they coming?”

His Adam’s apple bobs. “They are here.”

My soul cracks in half. “Why didn’t you tell me the moment you found out?”

“I did not want to upset you.”

The cool, crisp feel of his hand on my back turns to ice in an instant. I feel the blood drain from my face and wonder if I can handle this.

I knew there would be challenges. Before I started this, I knew he had an ex-wife. Not just that. He has a good relationship with her. For Niko’s sake, I respected that. Applauded it even.

But Ashanti hasn’t been around lately, and it was easier to pretend she didn’t exist. Even if I knew she was a part of Sazuki’s family and always would be, she was nothing but a phantom. Haunting just the edges of my reality, but never floating close enough to do any real damage.

Now she’s here.

I didn’t expect to have to face her so soon.

Sazuki and I have been dating for such a short time. We’re not ready for a big obstacle.

I’m not ready.

“Dejonae.” Sazuki takes my wrists and draws my attention back to him. “I went to the airport this morning. I met with them.” He clears his throat. “My mother insisted on having Ashanti stay at the house.”

This time, it’s not an explosion that rocks my heart.

It’s a sharp and poisonous arrow.

He and his ex-wife are staying under the same roof?

Walking past each other’s bedrooms.

Putting Niko to sleep together.

Making dinner together.

Playing games together.

I start imagining a beautiful black woman leaving the bathroom in the morning, foggy smoke curling around her. A towel slung low over her body, exposing most of her chest and legs. I see her casting sultry eyes at Sazuki, the very eyes he fell in love with in Japan so many years ago.

My nostrils flare.

I push at him, trying to jump out of his lap.

He holds me. “Let me finish.”

“No, you’ve said enough.” I fight with him, my heart pumping. The weight of what I’ve agreed to, the man I’ve decided to open my heart to, is starting to sink in.

If it was just a matter of Sazuki being older than me, I could survive it. Age does not determine a good man. Some teenagers are mature enough to take care of a family. And some old men still have the emotional maturity of a fetus.

I can even live with us coming from two different cultures. My parents are open and accepting. And Sazuki mentioned his mom was more open-minded than anyone in his family.

I’ll learn from him.

He can learn from me.

We can work through what those differences mean and how they affect our lives together.

I can accept almost anything.

But having his first love parading around in front of him…

I think of Jordan and the pain I felt when I saw those messages in his phone. If he had cheated on me with a random woman he’d met in a bar, it might have hurt less.

But he didn’t.

He was still emotionally entangled with his first love. There was a pocket of his heart that belonged to her even though he claimed to love me and, when she sauntered back into his line of sight, he realized that he didn’t love me enough to turn her away.

“Dejonae, look at me.”

My stomach heaves.

“I can’t,” I croak.

Sazuki settles his fingers on my chin. “I told my mother that she could have the house, but Ashanti would stay in the guesthouse at the back of the property.”

His hand flattens on my back with a possessive heat, drawing me closer to his chest, to the warmth of his body.

I breathe hard, struggling to believe him and the effort he’s making when my last experience taught me that I shouldn’t ever believe a man who’d been reunited with an old lover.

He tilts my head down and presses a desperate kiss on my forehead. The softness of his lips belies the firmness of his hand. Then he kisses my nose with the same intense focus, as if each kiss is a stamp of his initials. Finally, slowly, he kisses my mouth.

I kiss him back, even if my heart is still aching.

Sazuki scrubs a thumb over my cheek. “My heart is with you.” His voice is dark and grave. His eyes are heated. “You do not have anything to fear.”

I want to believe him. With all my heart and soul, I do.

But men staying away from their exes?

That hasn’t been my experience.