Fantasy Boyfriend (A Tattooed Bad Boy Romance) by Vanessa Stone Read Free Book Online Page A

"Ever had sushi?"
    I shook my head. "Nope."
    Well," he grinned. "Isn't this quite the day
for firsts?"
    He squeezed my hand as he led me toward the restaurant
entrance, and I reveled for a moment over the warmth and strength of that hand.
We walked into the restaurant, where he was greeted by a maître d' who appeared
to know him. He gestured us to walk down a short hallway, and I followed, only
to discover that he must have booked us a private room. The room wasn't
anything like I expected. A low table, like a coffee table with short legs,
rested on the floor in the middle of the room. It was surrounded by cushions. The
walls of the room were paneled and almost would look like rice paper, so I
gathered this was a traditional Japanese sushi bar. While I had never been in
one personally, Becky had, and what I was seeing now was typical, at least as
she described.
    Luke gestured for me to take a seat on one of the
cushions. I did, sitting cross-legged across the table from him, eyeing
everything around me with interest. I was trying to remember every detail
because I knew I would have to give a blow-by-blow to the girls either later on
tonight or tomorrow, for sure. I was startled when a young woman entered the
room wearing a traditional Japanese kimono. She even wore white socks and
walked on what I could only call a pair of wooden slippers. I was even more
startled when Luke spoke to her in Japanese. I watched him, my eyes widening in
shock and surprise as he conversed easily with her, obviously placing an order
for our food. After he finished, she offered him a slight bow and left the
room. I continued to stare at him and he looked back at me and explained.
    "I've been around a little bit," he said.
"Actually, I lived in Japan for a year or so."
    "I'm no expert, but that sounded pretty fluent to
me," I said, impressed. "Do you speak any other languages?"
    He nodded, flashing another smile at me from his place
across the table. He had removed his jacket and placed it on the floor beside
him. I wasn't sure about the material of his shirt, but it looked like silk or
rayon. Whatever it was it was black, long-sleeved, and flowed with every move
he made. Now instead of a motorcycle gang member, he looked like a pirate. It
was a good thing the sleeves covered his tats, because that might have just
pushed me over the edge.
    "Russian, though I'm certainly not fluent, a bit
of German, and, if pressed, a little bit of Farsi."
    I stared, trying to wrap my brain around the fact that
this guy, who dressed like a rebel and rode a Harley for crying out loud, but
took advanced chemistry, spoke several languages. Who the hell was he?
"Why?" He stared at me is if I had suddenly grown two heads.
    "Why what?"
    I shook my head. I was babbling like an idiot.
"Why…how do you know so many languages? Why did you travel around so
much?"
    He waved a hand, as if dismissing the question.
"I had to go where my parents went, didn't I? At least until I was old
enough to go off to college."
    "But what did your father do to take your family-"
    My question was interrupted as the waitress, or
whatever they were called in a Japanese restaurant, entered the private room
bearing a tray full of sushi. She placed the tray on the table between us. I
glanced over it, admiring the attractive presentation, but wasn't quite sure if
I was going to enjoy eating raw fish. After asking if we needed anything else and
pouring us each a cup of tea, the server left the room.
    "Have you ever had sushi before?"  
    He had asked me that already, but I shook my head no
while he pointed to several items on the platter.
    "These roles are called Maki," he explained.
"They're wrapped in seaweed and filled with vinegary rice and a variety of
fillings. This one has crabmeat and cucumber.” He pointed to another. “This one
has soft shell crab, cucumber, avocado, and crabmeat topped with Unagi .”
    He continued to point out items on the tray,
describing the difference between cone