Page 21 of The Dragon 1 (Tokyo Empire #1)
Chapter fifteen
The Penis Notion
Nyomi
Kenji tore into the wrapping paper like a wolf clawing through silk—feral, amused, and completely unbothered by the ribbons I’d tied so carefully.
When the paper fell away and the box yawned open, Kenji peered inside with the sort of anticipation I hadn’t expected from a man who probably received Rolexes and rare swords as stocking stuffers every Christmas.
He pulled out the plant.
I braced myself.
Is he going to like it? Or not?
Against Zo’s wishes, I’d spent the entire day searching for an incredibly special plant, one that looked as close to a penis as possible.
There weren't many out there and I doubted my pitiful attempt at Japanese had gotten my point across with many of the florists. A few had escorted me out each time I yelled out chinko and then tried to form a huge penis with my hands.
Regardless, I’d hit the jackpot at my last store by buying the titan arum .
It meant “giant phallus.”
One petal circled the bottom. At the center was a huge penis-shaped bunch of flowers that stuck together and soared up a foot.
Unfortunately, the downside of the poor titan anum was that it smelled like a dead animal.
The rank scent hit the air in seconds.
Kenji’s nose twitched.
Yep. I’ve ruined this great date. That’s what you get, Nyomi. Maybe. . .he’ll like my other present.
I coughed into my fist, trying to mask my chuckle.
Kenji peered at the plant. “I’m unsure of what message I should get from this gift.”
Yikes.
He continued, “being a lover of flowers, I’ve studied the titan arum before.”
Oh. He does know what it is.
I straightened in my chair, tugging the hem of my dress down over my thighs like it would somehow anchor my pride.
“On one hand, it resembles a huge penis,” he continued, holding the plant up for inspection. “Which I’m hoping was why you gave it to me.”
“And on the other hand?” I asked, unable to resist the game.
“On the other hand. . .it’s known as the corpse plant because of its odor.” He tilted his head, those dangerously beautiful eyes flickered with amusement. “Many have used it as a threat or warning and given it to their enemy. Are you threatening me, Tora?”
My mouth dropped. “Oh God, no. Go with the penis notion.”
The words escaped me like a runaway train.
Did I just say go with the penis notion?
Kenji laughed—a rare, full sound that wrapped around my spine and made something deep inside me clench.
“Good,” he set my gift down. “I’ll keep this outside my door. Maybe it’ll scare people off and stop them from knocking on it.”
I grinned. “Well. . .you gave me a clit flower so. . .it was only reasonable to give you a penis plant.”
To my surprise, he winked. “I agree.”
He reached out to grab the next present.
I moved his hands away. “No.”
Shocked, he looked at me. “Did you just stop me?”
“Yes.”
“No one stops me.”
“Well. . .you’re on a date with me, not here to open presents.”
Suddenly, a man came out of the shadows, dressed in all white. He was tall, clean-shaven, with long hair braided into a thick ponytail that fell past his waist.
Fast, the man grabbed the plant and took it away.
“Oh,” curious, I watched him walk off. “Who is that?”
“It’s not important.”
“I think it is.”
“He’s just one of my Fangs.”
I looked back at Kenji. “Your Fangs ?”
“A dragon has fangs.”
I blinked. “Am I supposed to understand what that means?”
“You’re supposed to not concern yourself with those things.”
“I’m a writer. We want to know everything.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” I crossed my arms over my chest. “What does it mean to be one of your Fangs?”
“A Fang does what needs to be done. Quietly.”
My skin prickled. “You say that like it should make perfect sense.”
Silent, he simply reached for his cup of sake and took a long sip.
I tilted my head. “Is Yoichi one of your Fangs?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw.
“And Kaoru?”
That did it.
His entire expression changed—subtle, but unmistakable. It was in the slight narrowing of his eyes and the flicker of sharp anger passing through his features.
He set the cup down. “You know their names?”
Shit.
I tensed. “Was I not supposed to?”
Kenji didn’t answer. Instead, he turned his head slightly, glancing past my shoulder and toward the trees.
I followed his gaze.
Farther back, under the pink glow of lantern light, the two men who had stood there silently for most of the night—one lean and with long pink hair, the other broader with a shaved head and black gloves.
Under his scowl, they didn’t move much. Just a small step to the left, a hand falling naturally to a belt, a shoulder rotating. But I could feel the tension ripple through the garden like a dropped stone in still water.
Kenji turned back to me. “Yes, those two are my Fangs too.”
“You seem mad about something. Did I say something disrespectful?”
“No. I’ll just need to talk with them later.”
“Why?”
His voice came out calm though threaded with warning. “If you know their names, then they spoke to you. My Fangs are not to speak to you .”
“Why not?”
“Because. . .from the moment you stepped into my office, I decided that I am going to be completely possessive of you.”
My heart thudded so hard it almost knocked the sake cup from my hand.
“That’s. . .” I cleared my throat. “Intense.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“Yet. . .I think you’re probably like that with any woman you date.”
“No, Nyomi. You’re different.” The way he said it hit me right in the chest. There it was again, that molten pull between us, the electric thread strung tight.
I leaned forward slightly, pushing past the swirl of nerves and wonder. “Look, I understand you’re protective. I even kind of like that. If I’m going to be in your world—even for a little while—you can’t treat me like I’m glass.”
He tilted his head.
“Let me talk to people,” I pressed. “Let me see what I see. I’m a writer. Observations and questions are how I survive.”
He lifted a brow.
I swallowed. “If your Fangs are fascinating, I’m going to want to know more about them and ask them questions. Honestly, don’t you want me to be happy as you court me?”
He stared at me for a long moment.
The garden was quiet again, save for the distant, aching song of the shamisen rising through the blossoms.
I didn’t look away from Kenji.
Not this time.
Not even when the air between us felt like it could split from the heat of his gaze alone.
Because I’d already made a decision.
Maybe not out loud, maybe not with some grand speech, but in the part of me that had watched my mother shrink in every room my father walked into.
The part that had learned early that love meant silence.
That being good meant being obedient.
That a woman’s power existed only in the way she could make herself small enough to fit beside her man.
I was not going to be my mother. Not here. Not with him. Not even if Kenji was the most dangerous man I’d ever met.
I’d spent my life turning things that scared me into stories. I’d bled every wound onto the page. I’d built a life from my voice. From the things I noticed. The things I asked. The truths I forced people to admit.
So if I let him silence that—even a little—it wouldn’t just be me I’d lose.
It would be everything I was.
So. . .what’s it going to be dragon?