Ricco walked back to his wife. She never failed to move him when he came up on her, no matter where she was or what she was doing. She was always very still. Peaceful. She was small. Half Japanese, half American. Surprisingly, she was a blonde. She had curves and pale skin. Her eyes always captured him, almond shaped, hazel, exotic like a cat’s. She looked fragile, like a delicate flower. The fact that a warrior ran deep beneath her flawless skin and delicate image always amazed him.
Her gaze jumped immediately to his face. Focused completely on him. His body reacted immediately. He walked right up to her, towering over her as she sat so demurely, her pinstriped suit emphasizing her curves rather than detracting from them. Every breath she took made him aware of her breasts rising and falling beneath her jacket. He made out the tops of those sweet curves, just a hint beneath the lapels.
Ricco practiced the art of Shibari and was very thankful that Mariko enjoyed and allowed him to use her body as his canvas. The practice between them required a great deal of trust. He was very careful when he laid the ropes on her body and tied the knots, not wanting to hurt her in any way. What had started for him as purely art had taken a very erotic turn when Mariko had become his partner and then his wife.
“This is a perfect place to practice, Mariko.” He gestured to the neon signs. They were huge, standing so tall and grotesque behind them, flashing their message for miles to anyone who cared to look. “I would have you naked and bound between the letters on this side of them. Wrapped in silks of gold and red so you would blend in. Only I would see you. Only the camera would capture you.”
She didn’t take her gaze from his, maintaining eye contact. “We don’t know when they’ll be here, Ricco.”
He sighed. “No, we don’t.”
“Did you bring rope?”
“I always carry rope. You know that.” He did. Silk. Silk could go through the shadows. He didn’t go anywhere without rope. In the past, sometimes rope had been his only sanity. Now, he always enjoyed the thought of binding her and taking her whenever he wanted. Coming off a job, coming out of the shadows, always brought on a savage need for release. Combining that with Shibari and his beautiful, erotic woman, the sex was always crazy, but he’d never considered actually staying close and using the actual location.
The rooftop was so perfect. The insanity of the grotesque neon signs hiding them from the world. The coolness of the night air. The shadows they could escape into should they need to. He could bind her close to the mouth of one and release her with one yank of the knots, catch her up and dive for the shadow if need be. Once the idea took hold, he began to consider how he wanted to bind her.
“You’re really thinking of using this rooftop? Not after?”
“After. And then after again when we get home. Once won’t be enough.” He could tell that already. He was going to be wild with need for her. Just the thought of sex with her on the rooftop, surrounded by the neon flashing signs and his own artwork in stark contrast, was making him hard already. He had never bound her completely off the floor, she’d always been a little intimidated by the idea, but tonight, when they got home, he thought perhaps he could talk her into it.
“It could be dangerous, Ricco. If someone discovers the bodies and calls the cops too soon, we could be in trouble. I don’t think we should take chances.”
He could see the color sliding under her skin. Her breathing had changed, and her eyes had taken on a glow. He leaned down and took her mouth. Claiming her. Forcing her head back. Telling her he was in charge right then. Knowing she was already on board with his ideas.
“I hear cars, farfallina mia, I’ll be right back.” He always called her his little butterfly. She was so much more. She was everything to him. He kissed her again and then moved soundlessly across the flat rooftop toward the side parking lot where he could easily hear the noisy group of men getting out of their vehicles.
Two SUVs had parked under the tall lamps, the only two that weren’t shattered. Clearly, they didn’t want anyone messing with their cars. Five men descended from each of them. They wore their colors, shoving one another, laughing, each talking louder than the others. All ten bragging about what they were going to do to Valdez’s enemies. The truck pulled up next to the SUVs and four more of the Demons leapt out. They swaggered after the others.