Unraveled (4 page)

She turned around slowly, her gaze zeroing in on him even in the shadows. She said
nothing as she sauntered forward, her carriage as purposeful as it was in the dojo,
but her hips held an enticing sway
he’d never seen before. She kept hold of the whip, flicking it with annoyance like
a cat with a twitchy tail.

Too late he realized she’d cornered him completely.

“Well, well, Godan, if this isn’t an unexpected treat, running into you at my new
club.”

His eyes narrowed. “Your new club? You’re a member here now?”

“Full-fledged.” She ran her whip up the outside of his thigh to his hip. “Identity
verified and dues paid.”

“How long have you been a Domme?”

“How long have you been a member?” she countered.

“As long as I’ve known Ronin. Your turn, She—”

She pressed the whip handle against his lips. “Ah-ah. The name is Mistress B. Understand?”

He nodded.

“I’ve been a Domme for three years. I tried out two other clubs in Denver before this
one. Neither worked out for me.”

“Does Ronin know?”

“That I’m a Domme? No. So he’d have no reason to expect he’d see me in this club.
And it’s not like he’s been here in months anyway, right? That’s information I learned
from his missus, not club secrets. When he gets back, we’ll sort out the details.”
She traced the edge of the black band around his biceps. “You’re security. A neutral
party, according to Greg.” Those beautiful golden eyes of hers bored into him. “Why?”

“I started out as a security goon. When Merrick changed the membership rules, he needed
more proactive security. We all chose something that interested us. I trained for
this type of club work with a Master who specialized in punishment. I’d already been
working with Ronin on kinbaku and shibari.”

“Are you any good with ropes?”

When he took a breath to explain, he caught a lungful of her exotic scent. Damn her
and the intimate web she was weaving
around him. He wasn’t some green submissive who easily fell under the spell of a Dominant.
“Back up, She—Mistress B.”

“Am I making you nervous?”

“No. You’re making me late for my next scene. So why don’t we just agree to avoid
each other at the club from here on out?”

She immediately retreated. “Easy enough to find willing men to occupy my time.”

Knox should’ve shut his mouth, but something about this woman just got under his skin.
“The male subs won’t play with you if all you’re doing is beating them and getting
them off.”

“And you know that . . . how?”

He didn’t. But any man worth his balls would want to get her off—why else would he
subject himself to pain and humiliation if he didn’t get to put his hands and mouth
all over her?

“Knox?”

“Maybe if you’re really nice someday I’ll tell you.”

Whap
. The whip handle landed across his chest. “Or I could
make
you tell me.”

“You think you can bring me to heel?” He laughed. “Gonna hafta grow a bit, kitty-cat.”
He sidestepped her and started down the hallway.

“You can’t stop me from watching your scene.”

He turned and grinned. “Not me, but the Master I’m beating prefers privacy.”

“Maybe I’ll request your services for next weekend.”

His humor fled. “I don’t beat women.
Ever
. Not even if they get on their knees and beg me. Not even if they piss me the fuck
off by insulting me.”

“Knox—”

“Drop it, Mistress. Find another toy to play with.”

He walked away and didn’t look back.

THAT
night Shiori dreamed that she had Knox strung up.

His gorgeous, big body was spread-eagled in chains, muscular arms straining above
his head, his ankles shackled. She’d tortured him with touch, first a feather, then
a piece of sandpaper, followed by a Wartenberg wheel, a rubber flogger, and a square
of silk. She touched every inch of him, even the bottoms of his feet.

Then she touched him with her hands. Sometimes as soft as raindrops, other times using
her nails.

His cock remained erect; his heavy balls were tight in the harness.

She’d had to stand on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “You said no man would want to
play with me if I was just beating him and getting him off. So I’ll offer you a choice.
I’ll give you ten lashes with the cat and then this She-Cat will give your cock ten
lashes with my tongue before I jack you off.”

“What’s my other choice?” he gritted out.

Shiori moved to his other ear. One hand gripped his hair while the other clamped onto
his ass cheek. “The other choice is you on your knees with that pouty mouth all over
my pussy.”

Knox turned his head and his mouth brushed her temple. “I’d rather be on my knees
before you, Mistress. Let me serve you.”

She’d dropped the chains on his arms so fast he nearly fell forward from the force
of it. “I don’t know who’s more anxious for this—me or you.”

He’d raised his head then, and those blue eyes blazed pure sexual fire. “I’ll prove
that I am as many times as you’ll let me.”

Cocky. Shiori unhooked his wrist cuffs from the chains and massaged his arms for a
moment before she pulled his arms behind his back. She stepped around him to admire
her modern-day Viking—from his muscle-bound body, to his handsome face, to the barely
leashed power vibrating from him as he fought against himself and his very nature
to obey her.

Shiori let her skirt hit the floor and kicked it away as she moved in closer. Her
bare pussy throbbed with her arousal—this man made her so hot that the insides of
her thighs were soaked. She reached up and grabbed on to the bar holding the chains.

A low growl rumbled from his throat in response to her pussy mere inches away from
his mouth. But he wouldn’t touch her until she gave him the go-ahead.

“Look at me,” she said softly.

His lust-clouded eyes met hers.

“Make me come so hard my knees give out. Then pick me up and do it again.” She held
her breath as he dipped his head and his tongue shot out, eager to connect with her
hot flesh . . .

That’s when she woke up. Heart pounding, body tight, thighs quivering, panties wet,
mouth dry, and need driving out all rational thought.

She punched her pillow with frustration. When that didn’t help, she wrapped her arms
around it and screamed into it.

You should’ve known it was a dream. Where else but in fantasyland would he say
let me serve you?

She’d never get back to sleep now.

She threw on some old sweatpants and a T-shirt and headed to the room she’d turned
into an art studio. She had a table covered
with different types of paint, several easels with pictures at various stages of completion,
and small finished canvases lined along the walls. She’d always wanted to paint, but
her life had been so hectic before she’d resigned her position at Okada that she’d
lacked the time.

Now she had time, but as she studied the paint lines on the closest canvas, she realized
that old adage “practice makes perfect” wasn’t true for everything because she was
a shitty artist. She hadn’t improved at all in the last few months. While that bothered
her on one level, on another level, she loved the freedom of wasting time.

She cranked up the volume on the MP3 dock and indulged in her other guilty pleasure—Japanese
boy bands. So she sang along as loudly as she wanted as she painted pictures of posies
and wondered what the hell a therapist would make of her.

*   *   *

ALTHOUGH
most of the accounting for Black Arts was done off-site, Shiori still had loose ends
to tie up before the week started and she got sidetracked by her own projects.

While she was no longer working full-time in the Okada corporate offices in Tokyo,
she hadn’t walked away completely. Several of their big food suppliers refused to
deal with anyone at Okada besides her—she’d tried to transition them to another account
specialist, but they’d threatened to pull their business. The amounts were significant,
so she’d sucked it up and stayed on.

No one had asked her how long she planned to stay in the United States. The only reason
she was allowed to remain here was because of her work visa. For the first time ever,
being on Okada’s payroll gave her more freedom instead of less.

After getting everything in order for the accountant, she cut to the training room
for cardio. Teaching meant she had to stay in better shape than ever, so she worked
out in the weight room four days a week.

She’d just finished a brutal punching combination and was
taking a moment to catch her breath when she heard, “There’s a rule against training
in the workout room alone.”

Her stomach flipped at the sound of his voice, but she ignored Knox and hit the heavy
bag three more times. Finished with that, she moved to the next station and added
kicks to her strikes against the training dummy. She felt Knox’s gaze studying her
every move, but she knew he’d find no error in her technique. She didn’t let his intense
scrutiny rattle her. Now, if Ronin stood behind her, silently critiquing her, she’d
make a misstep or ten. When he was in Sensei Black mode, he was intimidating as fuck.

She finished the sequence with a couple of practice sweeps and an uppercut and a jab
from the ground. She stayed on the mat, her wrists resting on her knees, and tried
to even out her labored breathing.

“Looks like you’ve been going to Deacon’s Muay Thai classes.”

“It’s free and I’m not teaching during that time, so why not? Every discipline offers
different techniques to keep opponents off guard.”

Knox knelt down and handed over her water bottle. “Opponents? You plan on joining
the underground fighting scene?”

“Maybe.” She swigged her water. “Maybe I’ll ask Blue to schedule me for the next Black
and Blue promotional smoker.”

“I’d advise against it.”

Her eyes met his. “Why?”

Those piercing blue eyes roamed over her face with such intensity she suppressed a
shiver. “Because you don’t have anything to prove, Shiori.”

WTF? Knox rarely called her by her name. She waited to see what he’d say next.

“You tired?”

“Winded. Why?”

“You held back in class last week with the overwrap to back move. I sensed your frustration
that I’d done something wrong, and I appreciate you not calling me out on it in front
of the class.”

She took another swig of water and realized this was one of the few no-bullshit moments
between them. What she said next would determine their future interactions. “I respect
you, Knox. You are in charge of the dojo while my brother is gone. And I’m sorry about
how the first meeting between us played out months ago, because it set the way we
deal with each other. That’s not what I wanted.”

He grinned—not the arrogant twist of his lips she was used to seeing, but that heart-stopping
genuine smile. “Bull. You wanted to make a point with me. You made it. And I deserved
to get my face shoved into the mat when I thought I could best you and recoup my pride.”

She smiled back. “Okay. I’ll admit there is something very appealing about throwing
a big man like you on his ass.”

“I’ll bet. So can you show me what I’m doing wrong with the overwrap?”

“Sure.”

He stood and held out his hand to help her up.

Knox’s gigantic hand engulfed hers. For the thousandth time she cursed her small stature,
which would always put her at a disadvantage, regardless of how much martial-arts
training she had. “Are you warmed up?”

“I ran four miles on the treadmill.”

“Then let’s go. Hands and knees.”

A strange look crossed his face before he dropped to all fours on the mat.

Shiori positioned herself beside him, one arm curled under his neck, the other banded
across his back. “Now, the first instinct is to put the power into your shoulders
and use that force to get the body flipped around.” She lifted and pushed, but his
torso didn’t move off the mat, just his arm. “See? I’ve got no leverage. If you drop
your elbow, you can roll me over, flat on the mat. Try it.”

Knox shifted his weight, and she had two-hundred-plus pounds of male muscle crushing
her. If he’d moved sideways, he could’ve
pressed his legs across her upper body, pinning her head and neck down with the back
of his knee, yanking her arm up and locking it to his chest as he put her into an
arm bar.

She tapped to get his attention, and he rolled forward. “Jesus, you’re a solid man.”

“And I wasn’t even resting all of my weight on you.” His breath fanned over her cheek.
“Wouldn’t take much to pin you down completely.”

“I appreciate your restraint.”

He muttered, “You have no idea the amount of restraint I have when it comes to you.”

Holy fuckballs.

Was Knox flirting with her? Ignoring the way her pulse leaped at that thought, she
resumed her earlier position—one arm curled around his back, the other stretched underneath
his chest. When she paused, trying to get her bearings, she became hyperaware of the
clean cotton scent of Knox’s gi and the underlying salty scent of his skin. She felt
the heat and hard muscles of his back against her chest.

“Shiori?”

“Sorry. Just thinking about the best way to explain this.”

But you can’t explain what you suspect is happening between you and the sexy Shihan.

Shaking off that thought, she said, “This time notice the movement in my hips. When
I throw you over, I can lock both of my legs around you. If I keep a tight grip on
your neck, I can get you into position for a rear naked choke.” Throwing all her weight
into her hip, she flipped him, managing to press his arm to the mat beneath her as
she maintained her choke hold on his neck.

Knox tapped immediately.

She released him and lay there for a second to catch her breath.

“You okay?”

“Grappling with you makes me feel like a flea taking on a dog.”

He laughed. “Come on, flea. It’s my turn.”

She rolled to her stomach and pushed up to her hands and knees.

His body caged hers so completely she had a spark of panic and fought her instinct
to arch into him and buck her hips.

He murmured, “Ready?”

The Mistress in her rallied with, “It’s best not to give a warning—”

And she found herself on top of Knox’s body as he tried to choke the life out of her.
She tapped his arm.

“That makes so much more sense.” Knox patted her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go again.”

“Once more. That’s it.” This time she wouldn’t make it easy on him even when the man
made it hard to concentrate. His solid body covered hers. His forearm pressed against
her breasts. His thick biceps blocked her ear when he wrapped his arm around her neck.
Surrounded by hot, hard man, she felt no panic this time. Instead she focused on the
shift in his muscles when he telegraphed his intent to move.

Bingo.

At the first half rotation, she curled in, letting his momentum carry them into a
full rotation, with her landing on his chest.

But Knox smoothly countered her move, and she ended up pinned beneath him with both
of her arms trapped above her head.

He grinned at her. “Gotcha.”

“How’d you know?”

“You always try to best me.”

“Didn’t work this time—did it?”

“No.” Knox’s face was inches above hers. And the way he looked at her . . . tempted
her to buck him off even as she was frozen to the spot.

“Knox. Get off me. You’re crushing me.”

“No, I’m not. I’m bearing my weight on my arms and legs.”

“What are you doing?”

“Thinking.” He paused, letting his gaze roam over her face. “Looking.” His focus zoomed
to her mouth. “Wondering.”

“What?”

“If you’ll knock me on my ass when I say you’re a delicate beauty, but beneath that
pretty outer shell is a core of steel. It’s an intriguing combination to a man like
me.”

Her mouth had gone bone-dry, but she managed to croak out, “A man like you?”

“A man who finds beauty in a woman secondary to her strength. You have both in equal
measure. So you tempt me beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.”

Shiori didn’t—couldn’t—move when he released one of her hands so he could trace the
edge of her face with his fingers.

“So half of the time I want to rub this beautiful face into the mat.”

“And the other half of the time?” she asked, almost breathlessly.

“I want to kiss you.” His thumb outlined the shape of her mouth. “Will you let me?”

That’s when she knew what he was—even if he didn’t yet—and that knowledge sent a secret
thrill straight down to her toes. “Yes.”

Knox pressed his lip to hers in an innocent kiss before he began to explore her mouth.
Licking at the soft, moist flesh on the inside of her lips, nibbling with firm-lipped
bites, following the edge of her teeth. Each tease of his tongue encouraged her to
open wider and give him more.

Then he kissed her in a full-out blitz of passion. Pouring hunger and heat into the
kiss, using bold strokes of his tongue and soft sucks to drive her wild. Even their
exchange of hot, panting breath was erotic and fed the furor of need building between
them.

And Shiori would’ve been content to kiss him all day, but she realized Knox’s arms
were shaking from holding himself up and not crushing her beneath his weight.

As much as she wanted to feel him bearing down on her, she pressed her palms to his
cheeks, slowing the kiss down. She whispered, “Give your arms a break,” against his
lips.