The Tao of Sex

Chapter 11

“HEY TRACY, SORRY ABOUT the delay. Been closing out a big case. But I’ve dug up some interesting things on your tenant. How ’bout we meet at your building at one? Cheers!”

Tracy frowned at her phone and hit the replay button on her cell. Yup, same message from Detective Michael McKay—the police officer and good friend she’d begged to investigate Nathan Gao more than a week ago.

She’d been anxious to get information on Nathan then, to find out if he had a criminal record. Well, it sounded like something was up. Unfortunately, Tracy wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. She just wanted to stop thinking—dreaming—about the man.

She stared at the time. Noon. Hell. She’d slept through the entire morning. After leaving Nathan’s apartment in the very early hours, she’d collapsed onto her bed and sobbed herself to sleep. And had apparently slept through Mike’s call. She shoved herself upright, then made her way to the bathroom.

There was still time to catch Mike. She could come up with some lame excuse for not meeting him, but did she really want to hide from the truth? Well, yes. She didn’t want to learn that Nathan was just a con man. Or maybe she did. She needed the truth. Especially now when she could still think relatively clearly. If she waited too long and got hit by that damn horny lightning again…Well, then she was doomed. She’d be at Nathan’s door on her knees begging him to do anything he wanted to her. She had to know the truth now. Therefore, she had to stop moping, haul tail into the shower, and then meet Mike.

An hour later, she had her toolbox in hand and was trudging up the building staircase while guilt burned in her stomach. Mike—Detective McKay—was all business beside her, oblivious to the fact that his every word felt like another weight on her soul.

“Near as I can tell, his mother runs a high-class prostitution ring in Hong Kong. Men and women. No action too depraved so long as the money’s there. The authorities have been keeping their eye on his mother, but there’s never been an arrest. Though apparently she’s been spending money like water lately. Just in the last few months.”

Tracy did a mental calculation. “Mom” had probably started spending the moment Nathan had left home to come to the U.S. She wondered how long that well was going to last. “What is she buying?”

Mike shrugged as they reached the landing outside Nathan’s apartment. “Silks, makeup, jewelry. Nothing outrageous, but it still adds up.”

Mike stepped back as Tracy joined him in the hallway. He touched the small of her back, guiding her to Nathan’s door. It was nothing unusual. Mike was a touchy-feely kind of guy. He didn’t mean anything by it, and yet Tracy felt a zing of electricity up her spine. She and Mike had grown up together. They were friends, and frankly, she had zero interest in him as a lover. But he was a big, strong man. He had large hands and likely a big, thick cock. And…oh, my God! Tracy gasped and reordered her thoughts.

Was this what being a tigress was all about? Unbounded thoughts about young football players and big handsome cops? Fortunately, she wasn’t lusting after Mike. She was just hyperaware of how his anatomy was probably constructed. Still…eww!

“Tracy? You okay?”

She blinked. “Yeah, I’m fine. So, um, that’s it? All you wanted to tell me was that his mother is suspected of running a prostitution ring?” Relief colored her tone.

Mike grinned. “Well, that and to get some proof of evildoing.” He gestured to Nathan’s door. “So open up. And by the way, I can’t tell you how grateful the department is that you noticed this guy. The last thing we need is a Chinese organized-crime outfit gaining a foothold here.”

She didn’t move except to fiddle with her master key. “What if the police are wrong? I mean, it could be…you know…a religion or something.”

Mike laughed, his expression warm and a little bit condescending. “Yeah, I got your religion right here. Come on, Trace, let’s get this show on the road.”

She nodded, but couldn’t force herself to open the door. “He might be home, you know.”

Mike frowned. “You said he was at class.”

He probably was, but she could hardly say she was feeling guilty for violating a potential felon’s privacy.

“And you’ve got that clause explicit in the lease that lets you enter to make repairs, right?”

She nodded. Mike had even made her bring her toolbox, which hung like a lead weight in her left hand. “He said the garbage disposal doesn’t work.”

“There you go,” he answered as he pulled a wrench out of her toolbox. “And I’m an old friend just hanging out.” He hefted the wrench like a weapon and grinned at her just like when they were kids. “All perfectly legal.”

Just not entirely moral. Unless Nathan really was a member of an organized-crime syndicate. A very unsuccessful one. “I don’t think that’s possible,” she hedged. “I think I was very wrong about him.”

Mike smiled and gently pulled her passkey from her hand. “How ’bout we leave the question of guilt to the professionals? You just fix his sink, and I’ll hang around noticing things.” His gaze abruptly sharpened. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”

She shook her head. “Nothing, Mike, I just feel weird about this.”

“That’s why you’re a landlord, not a cop.” He grinned as he opened the door. “Hello? Housekeeping! Anybody home?”

She rolled her eyes. Mike sure liked catching bad guys. She followed him into the apartment, her eyes immediately absorbing the familiar surroundings. “Mr. Gao?” she called, half hoping, half dreading to see Nathan. “I’m here to fix the sink.”

Silence. Well, silence except for the neighbor in 4B. This time the sound coming through the wall was a basketball game and another loud argument over the phone.

Mike frowned, obviously listening hard. “How come we can’t hear that in the hallway?”

She shrugged. “Soundproofing. I must have missed the wall between the two apartments.”

“I guess so.” He gestured to the bookcases, cushions and perfectly made bed. “He always this neat?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Mike wandered over to the bookcase, scanning the titles with a leer. “Look at this. Sexual Secrets of the White Tigress. Tantrism for Beginners. Yeah, our boy here is up to his mother’s tricks.”

“They’re just books,” she snapped. “And lots of people are Tantric. Sting, for one.”

“Because people always get their religious guidance from a rock star.” He pulled a book off the shelf and flipped through it. “Sex books right next to accounting texts. Business school for madams.”

Tracy dropped her toolbox with unnecessary force. “You don’t know that. Maybe he’s legit.”

“Sure, he is,” Mike said as he tilted a book to her. “And I’m sure Mother Teresa often preached orgasms to see God.” He snorted. “Like anyone would believe this crap!”

Tracy sidestepped the tears that threatened and moved straight to righteous indignation. “You’ve already made up your mind about him. Just because Tantrism is different doesn’t mean—”

“Is this his laptop?” Mike knelt down to where Nathan’s computer rested on the floor near where he’d been studying the night before. The screen was up but dark.

“I think so,” Tracy said.

Mike tapped a key and the screen powered up. It had been in sleep mode. “Well, look at that, it’s still on. There is a God.” He sat down on the floor right where Nathan had been last night.

Tracy turned to the sink, unable to watch. The sense that she was betraying Nathan made her physically ill. “I’ll just go fix the disposal,” she murmured.

Mike gave her a distracted wave. Meanwhile, the neighbor cursed loudly and vehemently before killing his television. Apparently, his team had just lost.

They were there for another hour. The disposal was in pieces before Mike leaned back with an enigmatic expression. “I gotta get back. We’ll talk more later.”

Tracy put down her wrench. “Wait a minute! Did you find anything?”

Mike wouldn’t answer. He just waved at her and disappeared out the door before she could press for more. She stared at her friend’s retreating back, refusing to bellow after him, and in that moment, Tracy came to her own decision. If she wanted to know more about Nathan, then she would have to find out her own way. They could talk like normal people. She could ask her own questions. She could…

She wiped off her hands on a rag then grabbed her car keys. Forget Mike. She had her own idea. But first she had to get home and grab a few things.

SHE WAS IN HIS APARTMENT when he came home. Somehow Nathan knew she would be. That was why he’d gone to the library after class, then loitered in the back of a Chinese restaurant, hoping to pick up an illegal busboy job. The answer was no, but he’d tried. Then he’d finally faced the inevitable and headed home long after she would normally have left for the day.

But she was there. Not in the downstairs hallway, but in his kitchen, putting away tools while the scent of some very American-looking casserole filled the tiny apartment. She looked up as he entered, her eyes lighting with delight even though her body posture seemed reserved.

“Welcome back!” she said. “I put in a new garbage disposal. Yours was toast.”

He nodded, but couldn’t speak. Her beauty hit him sideways like that—catching him unaware even when he expected it. It wasn’t that she was dressed to seduce. Far from it. She wore grubby jeans and a grimy T-shirt. Her face was flushed from her exertions and her hair was tied back in a ponytail that caught most but not all of her wavy tendrils. But the life flowing from her soul hit him straight in the solar plexus. She was alive and vibrant, and so damn beautiful she stole his breath.

“I made dinner. The disposal took longer than I expected. Do you mind if I use your bathroom? I just need to change clothes.”

He stared at her a moment, his sense of humor finally surfacing. “No problem. But I don’t remember any plans for tonight.”

“High-school gym. Girls’ volleyball, to be exact. Joey’s there to watch his girlfriend. I thought we’d eat, watch the match, then go out for ice cream afterward.”

He arched his eyebrows. “You did, did you?” How different she was now from last night when the pain from his rejection had rolled off her in waves. Today she was casual. Controlled. Suspiciously so. “Why?”

Tracy straightened to face him square-on, her shoulders stiff with tension. She wasn’t as calm as she pretended. “I had a revelation while I was fixing your sink.”

He blinked, his mind whirling. Was she already getting divine messages? Had she progressed that far as a tigress?

“We went too fast. I mean, I don’t regret it or anything, but we don’t know each other well enough yet to decide about anything. So I thought we’d just go out. We’d learn about each other’s families. We’d, you know, talk as friends. We can do that at a volleyball game.”

Yearning burned through his belly. “It won’t work,” he said to himself more than her. “You are a tigress. I cannot—”

“Yadda yadda,” she interrupted. “Give me this Stephen’s e-mail address. I’ll contact him on your laptop if you like.” She swallowed. “And there’s this other thing, too. I have some questions. I…I don’t want to keep noticing men. I mean, Hugh Jackman is one thing, but every healthy guy that walks by? No. So how do I stop it?”

“You train at the temple in Hong Kong,” he answered wearily. Then he turned away rather than show her how much he really did ache for her. “It has been a very long day.” A long day of regret. Of dreaming about what might have happened if her inner tigress had never woken. If they could have met and dated and talked as friends first. “I don’t really feel—”

“Just friends, Nathan. Are you telling me you don’t want a friend?” Her voice trembled slightly. “That you don’t want me as a friend?”

“Tigresses don’t have friends,” he answered automatically. And once again, the message was for himself, not her. She would learn the truth about that soon enough.

“Well, then, I guess I’m not a tigress.”

He looked at her. She held her head high, but the color had leeched from her face. He was hurting her, but he didn’t see how he could do this—be friends and then lose her. And yet, he couldn’t stand strong against her pain. The truth was he’d happily take whatever tiny piece of her he could have, but that way lay disaster. How could he be friends without wanting more? Without spending his nights wrapped in torment?

“Tracy…” he began, reaching for the only excuse he had. “Even volleyball games cost money. I don’t have—”

“Oh, God, you’re not going to go all annoying for five bucks? I’ll pay—”

“No!” He spun around, allowing pride and frustration to cover other more vulnerable feelings. “Allow me some self-respect. I have nothing to offer you. I can’t take you out on dates the way you deserve. I have no money. I can’t teach you—it’s forbidden. I can’t even pay you my rent next month! And that…” He gestured angrily at her casserole. “That will be the first real meal I’ve had since coming to this country.”

She paled. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out.

He rubbed his hand over his face, humiliated by his outburst. Then to make matters worse, his stomach rumbled, cutting loudly into the silent room.

Tracy laughed—a soft snort of humor that had him smiling in return. She stepped to the counter and lifted off the tinfoil covering. It was meat loaf and sauce covered by macaroni and cheese. A bizarre combination, but his mouth watered just looking at it.

“Eat while I change,” she said. “We’ll talk when I get out.” She grabbed a sports bag near her toolbox and headed for his bathroom. He watched her go, slowly losing his mind to the beauty of her walk, of the way her hair bounced as she spun. Then she turned and looked at him, her eyes huge and her voice almost too quiet to hear.

“All I want is a little time with you as friends. That doesn’t cost a dime.” Then she disappeared into the bathroom.

He sighed, knowing he’d already lost the battle. He had no business spending more time with her. She would distract him from the business of study and of finding a way—any way—to survive in the U.S.

He ought to spend the evening visiting sorority houses to offer Tantric classes. It was the very best time to pick up students. College girls without a date leaped at the chance to “expand their sexual understanding.” At ten dollars a class, he could make a hundred or more with the right pitch. But not if he was watching volleyball and eating ice cream with Tracy.

Giving in to his hunger pangs, Nathan scooped up a generous portion of her meat loaf concoction. It looked very strange to his Chinese eyes, but one bite had him raising his brows in surprise. It was good. Very good. Very American, but also…

The water in his bathroom turned on. He had almost managed to forget that Tracy was a few meters away stripping naked, but the sound of the water kicked his mind into overtime. She had a water-element body, but earth ran strong through it, as well. It complimented her, making her body lush and fertile. Worse, it called to his air-element soul, begging him to breathe life where there was potential, to give space to that which was clogged. And what she gave to him! Her yin rain cooled his tendency to overheat, and her earthy strength grounded him where his own efforts left him spinning aimlessly.

In short, they matched, and if she were not the most promising novice tigress in an age, nothing could prevent him from pursuing her. But she was a tigress with a bigger destiny, though she didn’t understand it. And he had his own responsibilities to his family that he had no wish to set aside.

He said that over and over; he repeated it to himself even as he wandered to the bathroom door. His head dropped against the thin wood, listening to the changes in sound as she turned off the water. He heard her duffel bag unzip and soft thumps as she moved.

Maybe it was possible, he lied to himself. Maybe he could be just friends with a tigress and not get hurt. Maybe his heart wouldn’t be torn from his chest when she abandoned him for the greater lure of heaven. Maybe…

By the time she came out of his bathroom, he had convinced himself that he could afford one night with a friend.