Unraveled (11 page)

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Be warned—if it ever happens, I will walk away.”

Annoyance briefly flashed in her eyes. “I get it.”

“Good.” He refocused the conversation. “Have you ever had a submissive of your own
before?”

“I had one guy in Tokyo whom I used more than others. But no, I’ve never brought a
sub to my place to play.” She smiled. “Or had a sub cook me dinner. So this is all
new to me.”

“We can figure this out, ma’am.”

“Call me Nushi.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “What’s that mean?”

“Master, lover—it’s the simplest Japanese word for it.”

“Nushi,” he murmured. “I like it. It’s more personal.”

“I hope so, because you’ll be saying it a lot.”

There was his cocky woman.

Shiori studied him. “Your hard limit is public humiliation. Any others?”

“No other players. Specifically, no one else in bed with us and no play with others
at Twisted.”

“Define play. Because you dish out pain at the club upon request, and that is play
for those members.”

Knox shook his head. “Not if you don’t become aroused by it.”

“I disagree. But here’s where I’m willing to compromise. I’ll be in the room with
you when you’re doing another Master’s or Mistress’s bidding.”

That could actually be really hot, having her eyes on him as he worked a submissive
over. “Deal.”

“But . . .” She gave him a cagey smile. “You don’t get to lie about our relationship.
If asked why I’m observing, I get to answer that it’s your Domme’s prerogative.”

Knox knew part of her wanted to lay public claim to him. But he had the right to demand
the same thing. “Agreed. But for every Master or Mistress that you tell I’m your sub,
I get to take you out on a real date. Where I pick you up and pay for the night out.”
He lightly bit the tips of her fingers before kissing them.

“You are awfully damn demanding, sub, but I’ll agree. As for when we get to the stage
where we’re having sex, we’ll use condoms?”

“Fine. Can we get tested so down the line we don’t have to use them?”

“Then what would we do for birth control?”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re not on the pill?”

“No. And it’s not something I’m interested in going on.”

That sucked.

“What about restraints?” she asked.

“Cuffs, straps, ropes? I’m good with that.”

“Sex toys?”

He thought of the cock ring. That hadn’t been bad. “Fine. No stupid-looking fetish
wear for me or breath play.”

Her nose wrinkled. “I’m not into that either. When we’re together, I’ll expect you
shirtless and wearing a pair of athletic shorts until I tell you to remove them.”

Here came the demands. “Yes, Nushi.”

She touched his hair. “When I snap my fingers, I’ll want you on your knees. Immediately.”

His response was more a grumble than agreement.

“Disrespect and defiance will result in punishment at my discretion, but will not
include any type of public humiliation. I’m willing to negotiate on some things, but
when I say done, we’re done.”

“Understood.”

“When it’s just us, like this, alone? You are mine, Knox. To do with as I please.
You’re not convinced you’re submissive, so I may push you a bit.” She paused, gauging
his reaction. “Is there anything else we need to address?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Ah, but there is one thing. I’m here on a work visa. It’s unlikely I’ll get sent
back to Japan before Ronin returns, but it is a possibility. So I should make you
aware this won’t ever be a permanent situation.”

His gut clenched at the idea she could just . . . leave. Was he prepared to let her
go?

You don’t have a choice.

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Then try not to fall for me, Nushi. It’d
be tough to beat my ass for breaking your heart when you’re in Tokyo.”

She laughed—just as he’d hoped. “I was going to offer you the same suggestion,
namaiki
.”

“Is that a new pet name for me or something?”

Another laugh. Then her hand gripped the hair at the back of his head and she pulled.
“Stand and take off your shirt.”

Apparently negotiations were over.

Knox stood and removed his shirt, slowly undoing the buttons as he tried to shift
gears from playful to subservient. He let the shirt flutter to the floor.

Shiori snapped her fingers.

He lowered to his knees. She hadn’t said he had to keep his head down, but he did
so anyway.

“Very nice.” She scooted to the edge of the couch and ran her hands across his shoulders
and her palms flat to his pecs. “I have a thing for your chest. It’s so broad and
muscular.”

Was he supposed to say something?

“What would you do if I stripped off my pants and spread my legs wide so you could
see every inch of my pussy?”

“I’d do nothing until you told me to do something, Nushi.”

“Oh, you are a fast learner, my sweet. So I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. After
I ditch my pants, I’ll lean back on this comfy couch and see how well you use that
mouth.”

His cock went hard. He fought the urge to lick his lips. He heard fabric rustling;
then her pants hit him in the face.

She pressed her bare toes against his groin. “You like this oral exam I’m giving you,
don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Come here and show me what you’ve got.”

Knox bit back a growl when he saw her pussy, smooth everywhere except for a small
patch of hair on the curve of her mound. So pink and hot and wet. Then he had his
hands on the insides of her thighs, opening her up so he could get at every glistening
inch. A hard tug on his hair caused him to look up.

“I don’t want to come fast. Tease me. Make me beg.”

He’d make her beg all right. And then he’d make her scream. He gave her a feral grin.
“You gonna let me bury my face in your pussy now?”

In answer, she released her grip on his head.

Rather than diving in, he decided to take her demand to the extreme. He acquainted
himself with the insides of her thighs. First, featherlight brushes of his lips. Then
soft sucking kisses. He wished he hadn’t shaved so she could feel the burn of his
bristle on her tender flesh.

When Knox finally forged in closer, he closed his eyes and breathed in her musk. Nothing
on earth compared to that intimate scent.

Except for that first taste.

He swirled his tongue inside her pussy, letting her juices flow into his mouth. Each
time he went back for another taste, he buried his tongue farther inside her until
each breath he took was full of
her scent. All he could taste was her. All he could hear were her soft gasps.

He explored her folds, licking and nibbling on her hot flesh. From the way her hips
jumped, he knew she liked it when he painted her slit in long, wet strokes. Next time
he’d do that with his thumb as he used his teeth on her clit. He hadn’t touched that
hot button yet, although he couldn’t hold off much longer. He wanted to kiss it and
tease it, make it swell. Feel it quiver beneath his lips.

So he flicked just the very tip of his tongue across that sweet spot and returned
to fucking her with it. A nuzzle here, a lick there, and whoops—another short pass
of his tongue between her pussy lips to mix things up. He planted kisses across the
denuded skin of her mound, letting his nose tease her lower belly as he dragged his
mouth back and forth across that tempting patch of hair.

Shiori had started to bump her hips into his face, practically chasing his mouth to
get him to put it where she most needed it.

Ask me. Beg me. Because, baby, I can do this all goddamn night.

After another round of lick, suck, bite, when he then blew on her hot and wet tissues,
she finally gave in.

“Enough. Stop teasing.”

Knox lifted his mouth enough to say, “Beg me,” and then tickled her clit with his
lips.

“Make me come.”

Not the begging he’d wanted, but her command was pretty damn hot. He said, “Yes, ma’am,”
and latched on to that pouting little pearl, lightly tonguing it until the first hard
pulse against his mouth. Then he sucked in time to the rhythm of her body.

She expelled a loud gasp that was as good as a scream.

Teasing her had the desired effect; her orgasm seemed to last awhile, and he stayed
with her to the last slow pulse, wanting to gift her every bit of pleasure he could.

He pressed his mouth to her even after she went limp against
the back of the couch. Even when his jeans were trying to cut his dick in half.

Then her fingers were stroking his hair. “Okay. You can back off now.”

“But I don’t want to.”

She sighed.

“So does that sigh mean I passed?”

“With high marks.”

Knox pushed back onto his knees, dying to tear off his jeans and fuck her any way
she told him to.

But when Shiori bent to retrieve her pants—interesting that she’d gone commando—his
hopes deflated even as his cock stayed hard and proud.

After she put her pants back on, she took her phone out and poked at the buttons.
Then she perched on the edge of the couch and smoothed his hair back, gently mapping
his face before she leaned in and kissed him.

Her kiss was equal parts gratitude and control. When she broke free, Knox stubbornly
kept his eyes closed.

“Look at me.”

Warning himself not to glare, or look fucking pitiful, he peeled his eyes open halfway.

“I know you’re hard and uncomfortable and are probably cursing me for it. But since
I’m not going to do anything about it, you can’t either.” She waited, probably expecting
him to explode with outrage, but he knew it’d be a waste of breath.

“You don’t get to touch yourself or get off until I say. So no washing your cock and
balls in the shower and the next thing you know, you’re jacking off when you didn’t
mean to. Ditto using wet dreams as an excuse of why you came when I told you not to.

“I’m not doing this to torture you, Knox. I’m making this demand for two reasons.
First for you to learn you have no control. Accept it. Accept that you won’t always
like it. The second reason
is orgasm denial builds stamina. If you can get off whenever you want, then it’s harder
for you to get off when
I
want. Understand?”

He blinked at her.

“Have something to say?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Don’t pout.”

He bit off, “I. Don’t. Pout.”

She pressed her lips to his. “Kiss me.”

But Knox’s mouth was closed down as tight as Fort Knox.

Yep. Definitely pouting. She laughed. “Kiss me like you mean it, Knox. Kiss me and
touch me as if I’d given you the green light and you were carrying me off to bed.”

That broke his frustration. He brought her on top of him and rolled down to the floor.
One hand in her hair held her head in place so he could eat at her mouth the same
way he’d eaten at her pussy, the other hand pressing down on her lower back, so he
could rock his dick against her pubic bone.

Shiori’s hands were trapped between them, and she just dug her nails into his chest
and held on.

Finally the frustration eased and he released her.

“That’s what I want from you,” she whispered against his throat. “An honest reaction.”
She rolled to her feet and offered a hand to help him up.

Knox laughed. “I’m not falling for that. You might just throw me on my ass for fun,
and wouldn’t that be the perfect capper to my night?”

“Any regrets?”

He scrubbed his hands down his face and looked out the window rather than at her.
A Lincoln Town Car pulled up to the curb. “Doesn’t matter. Your ride is here. And
for the record, Mistress, I fucking hate that you won’t at least let me take you home.”

She slipped her coat on without his assistance. “I’ll consider it for next time, okay?”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.” She bowed to him before she fled.

Bowed.

As he watched her drive away, he realized whatever justification he’d made about this
situation felt hollow.

SHIORI,
Fee, Katie, Tasha, and Molly met at the North Seventh Girls Club Saturday morning.
Molly, being her usual sweetheart self, brought doughnuts for everyone—including the
girls in the class.

Katie served as the MC, introducing everyone, and did a great job of explaining the
differences between traditional jujitsu and Brazilian jujitsu. Then she emphasized
how long each of the black belt instructors had been training and what tournaments
they’d placed in. It surprised Shiori that Katie had that info on her because she’d
never given Black Arts a full bio. So the woman was resourceful; she’d grant her that.

Then she introduced Molly. Molly’s story of her attack, her recovery, and her enrollment
in self-defense training kept the girls riveted, especially the part where Molly swore
knowing she could defend herself had made her a stronger, more confident person in
all aspects of her life.

Shiori and Fee demonstrated the simplest self-defense techniques on Tasha and Molly
while Katie explained each step. The girls, ranging in age from eight to fourteen,
were partnered up by size, and then the real work began. Although Shiori supposed
that fits of giggles were better than crying fits.

Katie kept an eye on the entire class and alerted the instructors when she could see
who hadn’t been helped at all or who needed extra help. Plus she offered lots of praise
in a genuine manner that boosted the students’ confidence and made them work harder.

Time flew by. Before they ended the class, the girls begged Shiori and Fee to do a
grappling demonstration. It didn’t take much to convince them because they liked to
mix it up.

Neither woman held back. And maybe some of the hip throws and takedowns were over-the-top,
but the audience loved it. By the time they finished the match, they were both sweating,
breathing hard, disheveled, and happy for the challenge.

Katie declared the match a tie. While Shiori and Fee were evenly matched in skill
in some areas, in others Shiori had a clear advantage. The last time they’d faced
each other in an MMA fight, Shiori had won. But she knew Fee wanted a rematch. Maybe
that would be a way to increase ticket sales for the next Black and Blue Promotions
event. She’d bring it up with Katie first. From what Shiori had seen, both Blue and
Ronin were dismissive of Katie’s abilities in the promotion business. That didn’t
make sense to her. Why would they keep her on staff if she wasn’t contributing in
a positive way? Sure she was a knockout as a ring girl. Amery had mentioned that Katie
had a six-month probation period, but that’d passed. Yet Blue and Ronin still hadn’t
allowed her to do the job she’d been hired for. It seemed the only person who listened
to her ideas was Knox. No wonder she hung around him whenever possible.

Ronin had asked her to keep an eye on Black and Blue Promotions, so maybe it was time
to dig deeper into the business plan for the next year.

“What do you think, Shi?” Fee asked.

“Sorry. I was thinking about something else. What did you say?”

“I said those guys were so smarmy about us going shopping; I say we shop our asses
off. Then let’s have a girls’ day and night. Dinner, drinks, dancing . . . Who knows
where it’ll lead?” Katie said.

Tasha spoke first. “As much fun as that sounds, I have to work tonight. But you guys
have a blast.” After a round of goodbyes, she got in her car and sped off.

“What about you, Molly?”

Molly pulled the elastic band down, releasing her ponytail. Then she fluffed up her
dark brown hair. “Well—”

“God, I hate you. Both you and Fee. You’ve been moving around and sweating for four
hours and your hair looks that amazing immediately afterward?” Katie’s gaze winged
to Fee. “Go ahead and do the hair flip and primp thing so I can lament the hideousness
of my overprocessed stick-straight hair and bask in the gloriousness of yours.”

“Yes!” Molly did a fist pump. “Katie envies
me
for something! I’m writing that in my diary.”

“Me too,” Fee said. Then she added, “Or I’ll write it on my girls-of-the-ring calendar
with Katie’s hotness as Miss September.”

Katie flipped her off. “The calendar was for charity,
Fifi
.”

“Fuck. I hate that nickname. Fee is so much better than the drawn-out
So-fee-ah
that my mother saddled me with. But
Fifi
is the name of a damn dog. I want to kick him in the face whenever he says it.”

Shiori frowned. “I’ve never heard Blue call you that before.”

“Blue calls me
brat
or
Sophia
. Gil is the one who teases me with that.”

“Anyway, the two perfect-hair chicks can’t complain about a bad hair day keeping them
from shopping and carousing. What about you, Shi? Ready to do some damage to your
credit limit?”

“Let’s do it.”

“Saks first? Then the boutiques downtown?”

“Perfect.”

Molly and Fee were whispering to each other.

“Share with the class, ladies,” Katie chided.

“Okay, here’s the thing.” Molly looked at Fee again. “Where
you two shop is way out of mine and Fee’s budgets.
Way
out. But it’ll be fun to see how the one percenters live. So we’ll come along, as
long as you both understand we’ll be window-shopping.”

“Yeah, and this isn’t a hint for you to take pity on us and buy us shit.” Fee grinned.
“And I really wanna see how much Katie spends on shoes.”

Shiori had never considered it might be uncomfortable for Molly and Fee. Her entire
life she’d had the luxury of buying whatever she wanted. Price didn’t matter, and
she’d never had to stick to a budget. Their way of living was as foreign to her as
hers was to them. But she was glad they had been honest about their hesitations. She
nudged Katie with her shoulder. “You heard them. Shoe shopping first.”

*   *   *

BY
the time they sat down for dinner at Denver’s hot new western-styled Mexican food
cantina, they were ready for a pitcher of margaritas.

“So how often do you shop like that?” Fee asked, helping herself to chips and salsa
after the waitress took their orders.

Katie shrugged. “Not as often as I used to. Now I understand the term shopping
spree
because that’s how I do it.”

“What about you, Shi?”

“In Japan I used to shop with my mom. I miss that. I miss her.” Ever since she’d walked
away from the career path she’d been on at the family company, she and her mom had
drifted apart. But part of that was their physical distance.

“You seemed familiar with the stores here,” Katie pointed out.

“I am. I mostly shop when I’m bored. When I first got here, before I was teaching
at Black Arts and I had a plane at my disposal, I’d fly to Vegas or Chicago to shop.”

Molly’s hand holding her margarita stopped in midair and she gasped, “For real?”

“For real.”

“That’s so crazy to me. I’m saving up to take a vacation in Daytona. And you can just
jet off whenever you feel like it.”

“I have to admit I didn’t realize it was so far to fly—for a foreigner it’s hard to
grasp the size of America. Flying off to shop wasn’t something I did regularly in
Japan. My job with Okada was seventy hours a week, so Saturday was the only day I
had off. It was tempting to sleep, but I forced myself to have a life. So in my younger
years, in order for me to have time to go to parties or events or the clubs, I hired
a personal shopper so I didn’t spend my one free day shopping and I always had the
hottest clothes.” The way they were looking at her after she finished speaking, she
wondered if she’d said too much.

No, you didn’t tell them shopping had been your refuge during your marriage. That
no matter how chic or well adorned you were, it didn’t hold your husband’s interest
for long.

“I never had to work for the money I got from my family,” Katie offered. “My dad didn’t
think I had the drive or the brains to be part of any of his businesses. I fell into
that mind-set for a while—if he thinks I’m a fuckup, why shouldn’t I just be one?”
She paused. “I got over that attitude after some bad choices. But I still live off
the family trust fund, because what I’m making at Black and Blue Promotions definitely
won’t keep me in designer shoes.”

They all laughed, and Shiori’s tension lessened.

“So is having that kind of money almost like it’s not real money?” Molly asked. “Because
if I would’ve bought those cute boots that were five hundred bucks, I’d have to cut
back on something in my budget to make up the difference.”

Fee snorted. “I’d have to tell my brother, hey, I can’t pay my portion of the mortgage
this month, but look at these awesome new shoes! He’d bury me in them.”

Another round of laughter. The conversation lightened up. Then the food arrived—good
thing because they’d downed the pitcher of margaritas.

While Fee and Molly were discussing roller derby, Shiori brought up Black and Blue
Promotions.

After some casual back-and-forth, Shiori said, “I’d like to see your proposals for
promotion.”

“All of them?”

“Yes. Even if there are ones that Ronin and Blue discounted, I’m still interested
in them. And I’d like to take a peek at the remaining schedule for this year.”

“Absolutely.” Katie bit her lip and leaned forward. “But I suggest we do this after
hours, when Blue is gone. He’s constantly looking over my shoulder. He doesn’t have
any faith in me or trust that I can actually do this job and do it well.”

Or maybe there was another reason Blue monitored Katie so closely.

“Hey, no telling secrets,” Fee said, butting into their conversation. “And no work
talk.”

“We’re not talking about work. We’re arguing over what flavor of margarita we should
order next,” Katie retorted. “Blood orange? Or blueberry?”

“Yuck. Neither. This mango kind is good.”

“I vote mango too,” Molly said.

“Mango it is.” Katie gestured with the pitcher to the waitress for another round.
“So where are we going tonight?”

“Not Diesel,” Fee and Shiori said in unison and laughed.

“Agreed,” Molly said.

“Do we wanna dance? Or just drink? Or watch hot guys dance together at a gay club
while we drink?” Katie asked.

At the mention of a club, Shiori found herself wondering if Knox was going to Twisted
tonight. The past four days had been so crazy she and Knox had seen each other in
the dojo and that was it. They hadn’t been left alone for even two minutes.

“Speaking of hot guys . . . who is the hottest guy at Black Arts and ABC?” Katie asked.
“Molly, you first.”

“Ronin Black.”

Katie said, “Fee?”

“Ditto on Ronin.”

“That makes it unanimous because he’s my choice too—Sensei Black is the reigning smoking
hottie.”

“It’s not unanimous because I didn’t get to vote and
eww
, not voting for my brother,” Shiori said.

“So who do you think is the hottest?” Fee asked.

Knox.
Without a doubt he was the hottest, sexiest, most exasperating man she’d ever known.
But it wasn’t like she could tell them that. She smirked at Fee. “Blue.”

“Blue, as in my brother, Blue? Oh no. Not going there. So let’s start over—besides
the owners of the dojos, who’s in the running?”

“Deacon,” Molly tossed out. “Even when he’s an ass.”

“Maybe that makes him even more attractive,” Katie said.

“He does have that ‘I’m a heartbreaking jackass’ vibe that makes you want to dig deep
and see if there’s a sweet center inside his hard outer shell,” Molly mused.

Fee said, “I’m picking Gil because he is so pretty to look at . . . until he opens
his mouth.”

Shiori nodded. “Same with Knox.”

Everyone looked expectantly at Katie.

“I pick Ivan. He’s hot, fierce, driven, and knows when to keep quiet. Always a plus.”
Katie held up her phone and started texting someone.

The margaritas arrived, and they wasted no time in filling up their glasses. Katie
kept texting until Fee said, “What the hell, K? Quit sexting and drink with us.”

“I’m texting with Ivan.” She grinned. “He’s working security at his dad’s club, and
he invited us to a party in the VIP section.”

“Sweet! Wait, which club?” Molly asked.

“Fresh.”

“Isn’t that some kind of fetish/fantasy/role-playing club?”

“Yes, but it’ll fun because we’ll all be dressed up!”

“Screw that, Katie. I’m not going to a club where I have to wear a costume.”

Katie looked at petulant Fee. “Suck it up,
Sophia
, and take one for the team. Dressing up doesn’t mean we have to wear a skanky French
maid’s getup and carry a feather duster. It just means we can dress slutty and take
in all the Fresh craziness from the VIP section.”

“You’re acting like you’ve never sat in a VIP section before,” Fee said.

“I’ve never been in the one at
Fresh
,” Katie retorted.

“I’m not sure I can go because I don’t have anything to wear.” Molly looked to Shiori
for support. “Right?”

Rather than admit she had a closet full of sex-club outfits, Shiori said, “Clothes
aren’t as important as the right attitude.”

“You want to go to this place?” Molly asked.

“Why not? You were all talking earlier about needing to get laid. Here’s your chance.”

Katie looked happy enough to burst. “Then it’s settled. And so no one chickens out,
we’ll get ready at my house. I have three huge closets full of clothes—something shameful
and slutty for everyone. Let’s go.”

*   *   *

KATIE’S
house was a mini-mansion in a gated community. She told them that she rented the property
for next to nothing from her brother, who’d bought it at a foreclosure sale. Why Katie
felt the need to explain her housing and financial situation surprised Shiori. Then
again, the way Americans were so open about personal issues baffled her.

After another round of margaritas, the parade of clothes began. Katie hadn’t exaggerated
her clothing selection, and she laughingly admitted to being a compulsive shopper
and a hoarder. Since she’d struggled with her weight her entire life—another personal
fact she just blithely tossed out there—she had outfits ranging in four different
sizes because she never got rid of anything. And Katie considered it a sign from the
fashion gods that their shoe sizes were within half an inch of one another. Then she
showed them another custom closet that had more shoes than Saks.