I’m going to kill Asher. It’ll be slow and painful. Pliers and a screwdriver. No one will suspect it, I wouldn’t risk Jazz’s chance to get his life insurance policy—I clearly watch too many movies. I reach for the blanket.

“Leave it.”

I stare at his silhouette aware of the occupant in the chair and what he’s thinking. He’s pissed. What do I plan to do about it? I push the covers back as he requested. The long trip gave me time to decide if this is what I want and I do. Now to get him to see it.

I’m opening my heart to love.

I stand as naked as the day I was born with the addition of my diamond studs. I walk to the mini bar thankful for every yoga class and run. My abs are tight, butt is high and round but Dylan is a leg man—and I got legs for days.

I bend slowly at the waist with my tush in the air. I grab a bottle of water turning my head in his direction. The soft light peaking around the perimeter of the drapes ensures he gets an eyeful.

“Would you like some?” I stand, cracking the seal on the bottle, facing him taking a long drink. This is the deal of all deals.

My talk with Momma lessened the ache of the hurt from my past, maybe one day the good days will overshadow the bad. But at this moment I thank my parents because I hit the genetic lottery. I have my father’s height and full lips, my mother’s alluring eyes, and my caramel skin is a perfect blend of both. With the addition of Momma’s heart and courage, which I’ll need to make Dylan love me again.

I walk in his direction.

“Stop.” His hoarse whisper breaks the silence.

My heart is lodged in my throat. I can play up the sexuality, tease him until he folds, or tell him the truth. I choose the latter, starting with his question, “I came here to get you back.”

“Why so you can leave in the middle of the night?”

“No, I—”

“So you can ignore all of my calls?”

“Dylan, I—”

“Yuki, you are not going to walk all over me like those other dudes. You don’t want what I have to offer, fine. But no games.”

“I’m not playing—”

He’s on his feet. The heat off his body reaching out to me across the room. I step towards him.

“Don’t.” His hands up like two large stop signs. “You played me.”

“But you said, I’m yours.”

“Don’t use my words against me.” He growls.

I take another step. “Dylan, I’m sorry. You opened up to me and I was overwhelmed. I didn’t know how to give you what you deserve. So I—”

“Left.” The finality in his voice cuts like a rusty knife.

I’m losing him. I step back and hear Momma’s voice, don’t run from love. I step forward.

“Before I came to live with Momma and Asher I lived with my parents. My father, Cleo Smith, was career military and an officer in the Army. He was stationed in Korea when he met my 18-year-old mother, Sun-young Lee.”

I sit on the end of the bed. “He was tall, handsome, and worldly. She was a petite beauty sheltered by her parents. They moved fast, so fast that when it was time for him to return to the States she found out she was pregnant. He left anyway and all seemed well in her world until her parents saw her little black baby girl with thick curly hair.”

“You?”

I nod. My heart considers what it must have been like for my mother to be a young girl facing her parents alone with a baby, let alone a black baby. Her bundle of joy destroyed her relationship with her parents forever.

“They disowned her. Pregnancy before marriage was bad enough but by a black man... They gave her an ultimatum, give me up for adoption or move out. She moved out and they cut her out of their lives completely leaving her with no choice but to reach out to my father. And he sent for her.”

I’ve never told anyone this story. I climb beneath the covers as the air conditioner turns on.

“So there she was with a newborn, speaking little English and he moves her to Texas before being deployed again. And for years we lived in a bubble. Just the two of us. He’d pop in here and there between tours. It wasn’t until years later I learned he had another family.”

“Asher and Momma.”

“Yep and it was the day of the funeral.” A freak accident took his life. I brush the tears away and for the first time, the ache of my father’s betrayal doesn’t carry the same sting. “I learned he was married to his high school sweetheart. They had a son. And nowhere was I mentioned in his obituary.”

“Did they know?”

“No.” I shake my head.

“Were there others?”

“Not that we know of.” I fluff a pillow and lean it against the headboard and Dylan sits beside me. “Learning about Momma Smith broke my mother’s heart. Dad dying signed her death certificate. The light left her eyes, she was like the living dead. I did everything I could to make her happy but it seemed like her happiness died with him.”

“I’m sorry baby.” He wraps an arm around me.

“By the time I was six, I’d buried my father and my mother and that’s when Momma found me.” I smile as I realize how blessed I am. “She kept me from going to the foster care system. She took me in loving me like her own. Asher did the same. And I thought it was enough until I crawled out of your bedroom.”

I thought I wanted space but the last couple days taught me all I want is him. With him, I feel safe and adored. He’s worth it.

They say confession is good for the soul, I’d agree minus my racing heart and the uncertainty of his response. The darkness masks his face, his arm tightens around me, encouraging me to continue. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember but the thought of actually having you scared me. I’ve never seen love work. Even my brother and Jazz, they are fighting to save their marriage and I couldn’t wrap my brain around having you only to lose you.”

“You’d never lose me, baby.” He kisses me softly on the lips.

“What about now? Did I lose you? Do you still love me?” I turn towards him hopeful, determined to prove that we belong together.

“Always.”

I exhale breathing freely for the first time since leaving his bed.

“Can we please give this a try?” I cup his face in my hands rubbing a thumb over his lips. “Please Dylan.” I kiss him. Again, and again. I straddle his body. “I won’t shut you out again.”

I kiss his neck.

“I know that I can’t control you.” I giggle.

“Are you laughing at me?” The humor in his voice lets me know I’m winning.

“No sir.” I plan to lay it on thick. “I’d never laugh at you.”

“Now I know you’re lying.”

Next thing I know I’m on my back. His face is hovering over mine and I feel his peace all around me. The heat of his thighs on the outside of mine, his familiar scent surrounding me. This is the part of my life that money and deals can’t satisfy. True peace.

“Dylan.”

“Yes, baby.”

“Make love to me.”

He doesn’t hesitate as his mouth finds mine in a heartbeat, his tongue exploring the depths of my mouth filling me with a new happiness. I reach for the hem of his shirt, he releases my mouth as I pull it over his head. I kiss his chest reaching between my legs for the button on his jeans.

Dylan grabs my hands pinning them above my head.

“That is so unfair.” I whine between kisses.

“Are you going to fight me about everything?”

I thought about it. “Only when you’re wrong.”

His robust laughter fills the room and my heart. “I think I have a way to quiet that sassy mouth.”

“Prove it.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

He stands crossing the room, moving around in the dark. I hear a zipper, the rustle of plastic, and he’s back climbing into the bed beside me. My heart pounds at his nearness, anticipating the fill of him inside me. He covers my body with his, I shiver and press myself against him. Skin to skin the sweetness of his breath feathers across my face, I turn my mouth seeking his.

We kiss. I lift from the bed trying to drink him in as his mouth commands and I willingly obey. He pulls away covering the terrain of my body with precision, sucking my neck, nibbling on my shoulder and covering my breast with his warm mouth, like a starved man as he massages the other.

His actions are loud and clear as he stakes his claim over my body. Every touch of his hands feels like a promise. And I know I made the right decision of following him, with him is where I belong.

I cup his firm butt in my hands pulling him closer as an ache, that only he can satisfy, mounts. I rock my hips against him wanting him now. Impatience leads my hand exploring beneath the covers.

“Not yet love.”

“Dylan….” His hands hold my waist and in a single thrust, he fills me. Every inch. The air leaves my lungs. He pulls out and plunges in again. “Ahhh….”

“No…more…running.” I arch my hips meeting him stroke for stroke, the headboard slamming the wall, our tattered breathing fills the air. “Say it Yuki or I’ll pull out.”

“Don’t!” My walls start to quiver and I won’t last much longer. This is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced with any man. I tell him so.

“Say it!” His voice commands thick with passion.

“No more running.” The words tumble out. He could ask me to run across the Brooklyn bridge for cheesecake and I’d ask how many slices. I’m clawing his sweat covered back begging him to not stop.

“You are mine.” His energy is rushing through my body, pushing out my doubts and he’s right, I’m his.

“I’m yours.” He slips an arm beneath my knee opening me wider and he drives deeper before his growl fills the room drowning out my cry of ecstasy.

He kisses me tenderly. “I love you Yuki.”

“I love you too.”

The clock says it’s a little after seven in the morning and I can’t sleep. I am cuddled next to Dylan in a full sized bed and I’ve never been happier. I roll over and snuggle against his chest.

“Baby we have to be in the lobby in an hour.” He sounds exhausted.

“Why?” I want to stay in bed and make love to him all day. We have time to make up for.

“I scheduled a tour guide for the day to visit Blarney Castle.”

My head pops up, “To kiss Blarney’s Stone?”

“If you’d like, I have no plans on kissing a rock that millions of people have kissed. But if that’s what floats your boat.” He chuckles. “We’ll see the old castles, the countryside, visit a few breweries, the works.”

“Yay. Mind if I use the bathroom first.”

“Not at all.” I hop up and run towards the bathroom. I back peddle and kiss him nice and slow. “Good morning to you too.”

I laugh slipping into the bathroom. My life feels perfect. Super perfect. Better than perfect. I had this week scheduled off for my birthday but I need to check my emails before we head out. And to think I’ll be in Dublin for my 27th birthday.

“Thank you, Momma,” I squeal under the hot running water. She talked some sense into me.

“Time’s ticking baby," Dylan yells through the door.

“I’m coming," I yell back. I check my reflection and decide, forget it. I’ll go with no makeup. I step out, “It’s all yours.” He smacks my bare bottom and enters in on my heels.

I dress in jeans and a shirt with sneakers. I search my bag for a hat then I plait my hair in a single braid—my Lara Croft style. Pleased with the outcome, I move to the little kitchen area putting on a pot of coffee, adding a little gloss to my lips while I wait.

Dylan walks out of the bathroom, stopping with his arms full of clothes. “You look beautiful.”

I search his eyes for humor and see none. “And no, I’m not joking, I never understood why you wear all that makeup in the first place.” He kisses me then moves on to his luggage on the other bed.

Ten minutes after a cup of coffee we are headed to the elevator hand in hand. Dublin here we come.