Page 6 of The Oyabun's Boy

"Chen, incoming hostiles. Northeast alley entrance."

More footsteps, this time from behind me. I was trapped.

"Two minutes," Chen promised, voice tight. "Stay alive."

I ended the call and shoved the phone in my pocket, scanning for cover. The alley offered nothing but dumpsters too far to reach and shadows too thin to hide in.

My hand moved to the gun at my waistband.

Movement caught my eye—not the approaching men, but a side door opening halfway down the alley. A silhouette stepped out, slender and graceful even in the dim light.

My breath caught.

Auburn hair, glinting copper under the distant street lamp. The same boy from the rainstorm, the one who'd danced and spun and laughed, oblivious to the world… to my world.

He hadn't seen me yet, was fumbling with his keys. The footsteps grew louder from both directions.

I made my decision in half a heartbeat.

I lunged forward, ignoring the tearing pain in my side, and closed the distance between us in three strides. His eyes widened—green, so fucking green—as I grabbed his arm and spun him around, pinning him between my body and the brick wall.

"What the fu—" he started, but I crushed my mouth against his, swallowing his protest.

For one frozen moment, he was stiff with shock, hands pushing against my chest. Then something shifted—in him, in me, in the space between us. His lips softened, parted on a surprised inhale that I claimed as my own.

The kiss turned from calculated distraction to something molten hot, something that shot straight through my injured body and pooled low in my gut.

His taste—coffee and mint and something sweet—flooded my senses. I pressed closer, one hand curling around the back of his neck, the other braced against the wall beside his head. His body was warm, lean muscle under a thin T-shirt, and he fit against me like he'd been designed for exactly this purpose.

The approaching footsteps slowed. I broke the kiss just enough to whisper against his lips. "Make noise. Now."

"What?" he breathed, dazed and confused.

"Moan, like I'm fucking you against this wall." My voice was a low growl. "Unless you want to die in this alley."

Understanding flickered in those green eyes, followed by something like defiance. For a second, I thought he'd refuse. Then he let his head fall back and produced a sound so obscenely perfect it sent heat coursing through my veins despite my injury and the danger.

I buried my face against his neck, inhaling the scent of him—clean sweat and coffee beans and that indefinable something that had haunted me since I'd seen him in the rain.

The footsteps quickened past us, men muttering in Japanese about fucking foreigners and their public indecency. They didn't look twice at us—just another couple getting off in an alley, nothing to do with their hunt.

When the sound faded, I lifted my head, meeting those green eyes again. Something electric passed between us, recognition or challenge or both.

Then his hand cracked across my face, a slap that snapped my head to the side and sent fresh pain radiating through my temples.

"Fuck you," he hissed, voice low but vibrating with anger. "You can't just—"

My hand shot up, wrapping around his throat—not squeezing, just holding, a reminder of who I was and what I could do. His pulse raced beneath my palm, but he didn't flinch, didn't cower. If anything, his chin lifted higher.

"That," I said, voice rough with something between threat and arousal, "was a very dangerous move, Princess."

"What are you going to do?" he challenged. "Kill me for slapping you after you assaulted me?"

I leaned closer, until our breath mingled again. "If I'd wanted to hurt you, you'd be hurting. If I'd wanted to kill you, you'd be dead." My thumb stroked once along his jawline. "Consider that kiss payment for saving your pretty ass from being caught in a crossfire."

Headlights swept the alley entrance. Chen and my men, right on time.

I stepped back, releasing him, and immediately missed the heat of his body against mine. The loss of contact made my wound throb anew, or perhaps that was just the effect he had on me—making me acutely aware of every sensation, every vulnerability.