Schooled: The Mastered Series (8 page)

“Do what?” he asked softly.

“Play it cool. Act like seeing your hard-toned body with your hard-assed nature doesn’t affect me.”

“Affect you besides the way you’re babbling?”

She nodded.

“Tell me.”

Her fingers dug into his chiseled pectoral.

“Amery.”

“I want to drop to my knees and touch, stroke, lick, and suck every square inch of this body, over and over, until you fully understand what it means to be worshiped. Because I worship you, Ronin Black. You are the most magnificent man I’ve ever seen. The most amazing man I’ve ever met.”

He remained quiet for a long moment. “Baby. Your words honor me on a day I’ve had little praise. So thank you.”

“Are you done for today?”

“Close. Why?”

Amery’s gaze collided with his. “Because I want you. Just like this. Hot, sweaty, your muscles quivering from exertion and that fierce look on your face.”

Ronin uncurled her hand from the back of his neck and kissed her knuckles. “Anytime you want me you can have me.”

“But?”

He released a heavy sigh. “But I’m not in the right headspace now.”

“Oh.” She tried not to deflate.

“That’s why I am the way I am when I come home after training. It’s . . . physically demanding and a total mindfuck. It takes me a while to let go.”

“Are you sorry I came?”

“Never.” He kissed her knuckles again. “I want Master Daichi to meet you.”

“He doesn’t look like he’ll be as nice as his brother.”

“Master Yasuji can be ten times harder than Sensei when he puts his mind to it.”

“He’s also a jujitsu master?”

Ronin gave her an odd look. “No. Didn’t he tell you who he is?”

“No. At first when he served me cookies and tea I thought he might be the butler.”

He laughed. “I cannot wait to tell him that. Yasuji is
bakushi
.”

She frowned. Where had she heard that term?

“He’s Japan’s most renowned kinbaku and shibari rope master. He’s been my instructor since I was eighteen. He’s the sole reason I was selected to train with Master Daichi.”

“Yasuji is the one who taught you all of your rope tricks?”

From behind them, Yasuji said, “Only the good ones. The boy has a lot to learn yet.”

Amery spun around. “I apologize if I’ve offended you by my ignorance of your stature.”

“I’ll admit it was refreshing to meet you, knowing more about you than you know about me.”

Of course Ronin had told his teacher all about her.

For the first time it didn’t bother her that a stranger knew she enjoyed sensual rope play with her husband. She smiled. “Well, I’m a recent rope enthusiast—strictly from the tie-ee’s perspective. I look forward to Ronin practicing the new rope tricks he’s learned from you on me.”

Ronin muttered, “Jesus.”

Yasuji laughed. “Yes, Amery-san, you are definitely the woman that’ll keep Master Black on his toes for the next fifty years.”

“If I could be so lucky to have her beside me for that long.” Ronin wrapped his arm around her, facing her toward his teacher. He introduced her to his sensei in Japanese.

Master Daichi bowed stiffly.

After she returned his bow, Amery remembered the Japanese phrase Ronin had taught her that she was honored to meet him.

Sensei Daichi didn’t seem impressed. Then he motioned Ronin aside.

Amery watched closely, wondering if Ronin was getting his ass chewed for his wife showing up.

Yasuji stepped in front of her. “You’re protective of him.”

“Someone needs to be.”

“My Rikya used to go head to head with my brother.”

“Did she win?”

“Yes. She was a very determined woman. In all things.”

Her gaze moved to Yasuji. “Was your wife . . . one of your rope models?”

“She was my
only
rope model. She did not like my hands on other women.”

“I’m the same way with Ronin. Did she help you do kinbaku demonstrations?”

“Yes. Not with much enthusiasm at first, I’m afraid.”

“I understand that. I still . . .” She hesitated. What if Ronin hadn’t told his teacher that his wife had issues with public bindings? Maybe Ronin would be embarrassed if Yasuji knew he hadn’t done any rope demonstrations for months.

“I will answer every question I see in your eyes, Amery-san. Please come visit me when Ronin returns to training.”

“I’d like that.”

Ronin draped his arm over her shoulder. “Quit trying to talk her into being your rope model, old man. She belongs to me.”

Yasuji’s gaze dropped to the white scar tissue on Ronin’s arm that was her name in kanji. “I see that. So you’re taking your wife . . . ?”

“To Iriomote.”

“So far?”

“So private,” Ronin said with a grin. “It
is
week two of our honeymoon.”

“How far away is it?” Amery asked.

“Below Okinawa,” Ronin said. “It’s a long haul but Ojisan’s plane is picking us up in Sapporo tonight. We’ll be on the ferry to the island tomorrow morning.”

“I wish you safe travels.”

Amery faced Ronin after Yasuji walked away. “We’re leaving tonight? But I’m not packed.”

“Yes you are. There’s a suitcase on the plane with swimsuits and summer clothes for both of us.”

“But . . . how do you know my size?”

“You’re really asking me that with all the times I’ve had my hands on you?”

“Point taken.”

“Besides, if I have my way, you won’t be wearing anything at all for the next six days but a suntan.”

Amery kissed him. “You have the best ideas.”

Chapter Six

After their idyllic week in the tropics, they’d returned to training camp so Ronin could finish his final session. The last two weeks had flown by and now she was faced with spending an entire week apart from her husband.

“Baby, you’re killing me here.”

“I don’t want to say good-bye.” Amery pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling.

Ronin’s soft lips brushed her hairline. “I’ll make it up to you when I get to Tokyo.”

“How?”

“Find something you want to do, someplace you want to go, and I’ll take you there, no questions asked. Just the two of us.”

“I’ll miss you like crazy. Don’t work yourself into a coma.” She sighed against his neck. “But you’ll do whatever Master Daichi wants.”

“Amery—”

“It is my right as your wife to worry about you.”

“I love you, baby. So much.”

“I love you too.”

The door blew open and Tamara Okada strode toward them.

She held out her hands to her son.

Ronin kissed her cheeks and gave her a quick hug. “Mother. You look amazing as always.”

“And you, my son, look exhausted.” She faced Amery, offering her the same kiss, kiss, hug greeting. “Amery, you look beautiful as ever.”

“As do you, Tamara.”

“Thank you.” Her gaze bounced between them. “Have you two said your good-byes so Amery and I can take off?”

“Yes, we have. You’re planning on three days for the Okada factories tour?” Ronin asked.

“Yes. But it’ll be four days before we’re in Tokyo.”

“I plan on showing my wife all my favorite spots there, so don’t steal my thunder, Mom.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. But you should know your grandfather will be back in Tokyo the day before you arrive, and he’s requested I host a cocktail party for the newly married couple.”

Amery watched Ronin’s eyes harden. “Please tell me you refused.”

“I did not. I think it’s a great idea. So be prepared to suffer through your grandfather’s pride in you as you introduce your wife to his friends and business associates,” Tamara said dryly.

“Fine. But she doesn’t meet Ojisan until I can introduce her to him, understood?”

“Of course.”

“And one other thing.” Ronin switched to Japanese.

Before he uttered more than five words, Amery poked him in the arm. “English, ninja. Especially if this concerns me.”

Tamara smirked at her son. “Care to start again?”

“She’ll want to shop and I pay for everything. I don’t care if she wants to buy a potato peeler or an entirely new set of bedroom furniture for our apartment, it
will
come from my accounts.”

“Ronin—”

Then he was in her face. “This is a nonnegotiable point, Amery. You are my wife. I provide for you, whether it is food, clothing, or home furnishings. Period.” He paused and exhaled. “Don’t deny me the pleasure of making sure you have everything you need, okay?”

When he put it that way, and added the puppy-dog eyes . . . how could she refuse him? “Okay.”

A man approached and spoke so rapidly that Amery couldn’t make out one word. So much for her Japanese language lessons.

Tamara gestured to Amery’s bags and they were whisked off to be loaded onto Okada’s plane.

Ronin framed her face in his hands. “I hate we’ll be out of contact for the next week. But I’ll be in Tokyo before you know it.”

She stood on tiptoe to press her mouth to his. “I’ll miss you every moment. But I can’t wait to get the inside scoop on Ronin as a boy from his mama.”

Without breaking eye contact with Amery, Ronin said, “No embarrassing stories from my childhood, okay, Mom?”

Tamara laughed. “No promises about that, Ronin-san.”

He groaned.

One more kiss, one more softly whispered
I love you
, and she forced herself to follow Tamara onto the tarmac.

***

It’d been a hellish week. No Amery. No respite in his training.

“Pay attention!” Master Daichi shouted. “Ten more.”

Ronin’s arms and legs were as limp as ramen. In all the years he’d trained with Daichi he’d never given up, never refused a command, never complained.

Evidently that was about to change.

He managed the spider crawl on the inside of “the box.” Halfway down, his body just gave out and he fell the last eight feet. With his years of jujitsu training he’d learned to make safe falls, so nothing was hurt worse than his pride.

“Hachidan,” Daichi barked. “Get up. Go again.”

Ronin shook his head, sweat flying everywhere as he rolled to his knees. “I’m done in.”

“You are done in when I say you’re done in.”

Grabbing a towel, he mopped his face. “Let me rest and regroup.”

“That was not a request.”

He heard the sharp
crack
at the same time he felt the sting of Master Daichi’s belt connect with his quadriceps. He’d learned not to flinch over the years, but it’d been a long time since Sensei had employed his belt as a disciplinary measure.

When Ronin didn’t react, he knew another lash was coming. But he was prepared. He focused on hearing that whisper of fabric on fabric. He’d have less than a split second to counter the strike.

At the barely perceptible
shush
of Daichi’s sleeve brushing his pant leg, Ronin’s arm shot out. He wrapped the towel in his hand around the belt, stopping the strike from landing.

Ronin glanced up to meet Master Daichi’s surprised gaze. “Yes, Sensei, I pay attention. Even when you work me to exhaustion, mentally and physically, I’m learning from you.”

Silence.

“And that is why you are his most respected student,” Yasuji said from behind them.

Master Daichi harrumphed. But he didn’t release his belt, nor did Ronin release the towel.

“Enough,” Yasuji said. He untwisted the towel from around the belt, holding both in one hand. “Brother. Take a break. Allow Master Black to do the same.”

Surprisingly, Daichi obeyed. He retreated in silence.

Yasuji pointed to a bottle of water on the low table. “For you.”

Ronin cracked the cap and drained the bottle in four swallows. “Thanks.”

After Ronin caught his balance and his breath, Yasuji said, “May I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“What are you still doing here? When your lovely bride awaits you in Tokyo?”

“Finishing my required training. The final week is not to be filled with distractions, which is why my lovely bride isn’t here.”

“And what new things have you learned?”

Yasuji rarely questioned him like this and it caused Ronin to scroll back through the past five days’ training exercises. He hadn’t learned anything new; he’d just fine-tuned previous lessons. “I’m not sure I follow what you’re after, Master Yasuji.”

“My brother demanded you train with no distractions, which would lead me to believe he had new things to teach you. But you’ve not learned any deeper ties to meditation. You’ve not learned new offensive or defensive techniques. No new weapons have been introduced. So tell me again; why are you here?”

“Because Sensei demanded it,” he said by rote.

In that moment, the wooden recitation of that statement and the wrongness of his blind obedience collided. He finally understood why his teacher had issued the demand; only to see if Ronin would obey it.

Goddammit.

His gaze zoomed to Yasuji. “You knew this additional training wasn’t necessary but just another one of his mindfucks?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t catch on before now.”

“So all of this—the endless drills and never-ending physical challenges were for Daichi’s amusement?”

“No. He is your sensei; he expects obedience from you above all else. But he’s also a man, Ronin. An old man.” He sighed. “As taxing as the challenges have been on you in the past year, the year has been just as bad on him.”

I doubt it.

“Even after your recovery from injury you will continue to be in your prime for the next twenty-plus years. There’s no longer anything more you can learn from him. He knows this. Part of him has feared reaching this point.”

A hard knot formed in his belly. “Since when has he known this?”

“Since you arrived. You had to suspect this was your last training session with him.” Yasuji’s eyes searched Ronin’s. “My brother will always be revered as the man who taught traditional Japanese jujitsu in its purest form. But the time has come for him to rest on his laurels and for you to move on.”

Stunned, Ronin didn’t know what to say.

“You, Ronin-san, are his proudest accomplishment. You’ve surpassed all the goals and expectations he had for you. He saw so much of himself in you. A loner who defied family expectations. A man who rose above mediocrity by sheer will and hard work. A pupil intent on mastering two different disciplines and succeeding. A true Master who defines himself as a teacher above all else.” Yasuji paused. “While you will continue to be a great teacher and a leader for years to come, that one-dimensional description doesn’t fit you anymore. You are also a husband.”