Kia Ora...

November is almost over and 2022 is creeping closer a little too fast.

I'm currently working on rough plan of what books I want to get written next year which isn't easy. I need to balance book releases between three pen names, figure out which series' require more attention than others, and all while remembering that next year is going to be busy with my youngest finishing up high school.

Updates

• Stitched Together has hit the editing stage... and the blurb writing stage. I actually thought I'd been clever in getting the blurb knocked out early, but now the story is finished... they don't quite match.
• Hiroshi's story will be the next one to be written. This will be the last book in the Tokyo Nights Novella series.
• In January I'll start writing Ryland's story - this will be the third book in the House of Bolton series, and the first MM story in the series... but not the last.
• I'll also be taking a look at my Paranormal Mpreg series, and deciding whether they only need an edit plus new covers or if I should look at expanding them from novellas into longer stories.... and when I'd have time to do that.
• I've also organised a new cover for Caught (Smoke and Shadows 1).

Caught - Chapter Twenty-Two

“Come for me, Keshi… then get on your fucking knees and suck my cock.”

Breath ragged, Takeshi pressed his head against the iron sheet wall in front of him, hating that his body reacted automatically to Yoshitake’s words. Hated that he wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees and suck the man’s cock as ordered… to forget that Takeshi had vowed in front of the members of the Shirokawa-gumi who were still loyal to him, that he’d kill the man who’d murdered his father… and that those two men were one in the same. Falling to his knees right here might satisfy the desires flooding his veins, but it would cost Takeshi everything he’d worked hard to achieve since his return from Tokyo.

Love or Honour. Those were his choices. One or the other, not both, unless Takeshi could find away to satisfy his craving for Yoshitake without compromising his position as head of the Shirokawa-gumi.

“I let you come, Keshi… so why aren’t you on your knees already?” Yoshitake hissed, fingers digging into his shoulder, right before Yoshitake spun him around and shoved Takeshi to the ground.

His body swayed, and pain ricocheted up his legs as the hard concrete collided with his knees. Takeshi placed a hand down to steady himself, fingers touching the familiar coolness of steel, and he wrapped them around the handle, dragging it closer. An idea, a way of giving to his baser desires without losing face entirely when Yoshitake walked out of the warehouse still alive, formed in his mind. Yoshitake’s hand curled in his hair, yanking at the short strands harshly and forcing Takeshi to look at him while his other worked the zipper of his suit pants lower.

Yoshitake smiled, one of those dangerous almost feral grins that Takeshi imagined tigers threw in the direction of their prey before pouncing. A smile that never failed to harden Takeshi’s cock, to have him whimpering and begging for Yoshitake's, whether it was in his mouth or arse. But he’d already begged the man today, and Takeshi had no plans to beg any further. He leaned forward, swiping his tongue across the tip of Yoshitake’s cock, laved at its length before switching his attention to the man’s balls, and then returning to the head of his cock. Takeshi used every trick he knew, did everything that Yoshitake liked until the man’s head tipped back and rumbling groans of pleasure erupted from Yoshitake’s throat. Kept working at it like a starving man gifted his favourite food until he sensed that Yoshitake was close…

And then Takeshi struck.

Fingers wrapped tight around the blade, Takeshi moved quick, the first burst of cum hitting his tongue as he stabbed it into Yoshitake’s foot. Forced it through muscle, tendon, and bones until the steel tip collided with the concrete and bent. Yoshitake wouldn’t be pulling it free anytime soon, not without the aid of a doctor or a hefty pair of cutters. But it wasn’t watching Yoshitake stumble back with weird look of pride and betrayal on his face that amused Takeshi as he sat back and dragged his arm over his mouth. No, it was the sight of Yoshitake’s cum that had spilled on the ground and mixed with the blood seeping from his injured foot. And if that didn’t sum up their relationship right now, Takeshi didn’t think anything would.

Death and Desire.

Love and Hate.

Corrupted Honour.

“You fucking little bitch,” Yoshitake cursed while leaning against a table on the far side of the room, hands fumbling with his phone and pants. “I can’t believe you fucking stabbed me… and right at… that moment.”

And as much as it would be easy to kill Yoshitake right now as he hobbled about the warehouse while fighting against pants that wanted to fall to his knees, Takeshi didn’t see the fun in hunting a wounded man.

“You’re the one who taught me to think on my feet, Yoshitake. To use any situation to my advantage… to look for moments when my opponent is distracted… and I think, you were suitably distracted, don’t you. If I didn’t strike, then… when else would another opportunity come along.” He shrugged his shoulders and threw his… whatever Yoshitake was to him now, a wry smile.

Rising to his feet, Takeshi straightened his clothes the best that he could and headed for the door of the warehouse. He paused on the threshold and stared back at the man who’d been a mentor, a fantasy, and more recently a lover and an enemy. Anger flickered in his veins, not as intense as before but the desire for vengeance hadn’t waned at all… but Yoshitake was correct, killing the man responsible for his father’s death might not be possible anymore. Hate fuck each other for the foreseeable future… yeah, that was definitely more likely.

“I’d say, please return my knife… but I can’t imagine you’re going to be able to remove it without ruining it further,” he said, drumming his fingers on the side of the warehouse door. “So, instead… thanks for the orgasm, and I guess I’ll see you soon.”

“You’re an arsehole, Keshi,” Yoshitake shouted after him. “And fuck… I gave you this damn knife!”

Takeshi turned back, feet pivoting on the gravel just outside the door. “I know. It was one of my favourites,” he told him and then strode toward the waiting car, waving at his men to head out.

*

Yoshitake stared after Takeshi not sure what to do with the conflicting emotions sweeping through his veins. Love warred with hate; pride warred with anger, and his well-prepared plans lay scattered across the floor of the warehouse. It’d been simple in his mind—kill Takeshi’s father, sow seeds of distrust amongst the remnants of the Shirokawa-gumi and watch as they turned on each other, leave Takeshi with no one to trust, but him.

He’d miscalculated though.

Dismissed the possibility of the childhood friendship Takeshi had struck up with the young Araki-gumi heir still existing once the tension between the Kyoto organisation and the Shirokawa-gumi had started to sour.

Miscalculation? Yoshitake shook his head and chuckled. None of the information he based his decisions on had been remotely correct. The man who’d confronted him earlier at the main house, the one who pressed him against the wall and held a knife to his throat, and the one who’d sucked his cock before stabbing in the foot… they weren’t the same man who’d left Osaka for four years ago. He’d seen hints of that person in Takeshi’s hesitancy to make decisions when he’d first arrived back in Osaka, but that man was long gone.

But maybe that was a good thing.

Yoshitake sighed and picked his phone off the table. He tapped it on his thigh while trying to decide if it was worth the embarrassment of calling Tomu and getting his friend to haul arse back to the warehouse. Not that he had much choice either. This knife wasn’t going to remove itself from his foot, and the doctor Yoshitake usually called upon worked for the Shirokawa-gumi, nor could he present himself at the hospital without awkward questions being asked.

He tapped in the pin code, swiped through his contacts until he found Tomu’s number, and made the call.

“Whereabout’s are you, Tomu?”

“Not far. No one chased after us… I’m guessing you need some bodies disposed of?”

Yoshitake winced. “No. I need a doctor instead or failing that something with which to cut steel with.”

“Just kill the bastard and be done with it,” his friend replied exasperatedly. “I get that he’s a good fuck… but if you can’t kill him, then he’s only going to kill you.”

Curses stacked up on his tongue eager to be released as Yoshitake adjusted his position and banged the injured foot against the leg of the table. “Don’t need a doctor for him,” he hissed.

“Oh…damn! You like dying, or do I have time to organise something?”

“Not dying… But I’m not going anywhere in a hurry either.”

“Yeah, okay… I’ll be there soon.”

Yoshitake sighed with relief as the phone call ended and tossed the phone across the table.

He looked forward to his next encounter with Takeshi, though next time Takeshi wouldn’t be walking away like he had done today.

***********************************************

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