Bound: The Mastered Series (7 page)

“Your skin is like a drug.” He planted kisses to the top button on her shirt. He released her hair and ran his hands down the sides of her face and her neck. His fingers circled her wrists and he brushed his mouth across her ear. “Beautiful girl, I’d better get you home before I come up with one hundred more reasons why I shouldn’t take you home.”

Ronin placed another kiss on her temple and stepped back.

Amery noticed the bulge in the crotch of his jeans.

His rough-tipped fingers were under her chin, forcing her focus higher. “Eyes off my asset.”

After he’d driven her home, he insisted on walking her to the door in the alley she used to reach her loft. “I had an amazing time tonight, Ronin.”

“Same here.” He kissed her fingertips. “Unfortunately I’ve got things scheduled, so we can’t do it again this weekend.”

She masked her disappointment and chastised herself for expecting to spend more time with him over the weekend anyway. They’d had one date.
One
. She needed to keep her enthusiasm in check. “I’ve got plans myself.”

“Doing what?”

“Catching up on work. Dinner with friends. Hitting the movies. The usual. How about you?”

“Nothing as enticing as what you’re doing,” he said with a smile. “Would that work have anything to do with designing a new logo for Black Arts?”

“Could be. A few drafts are almost done and ready for you to look at.”

“Would Monday work for you to meet with me and a couple instructors to show us what you’ve got?”

She did a mental check of her schedule next week. “Sure. What time?”

“Ten. The dojo offices are on the second floor.”

“Any crazy security measures I need to be aware of?”

“No.” His mouth landed on hers hard for a quick kiss. “See you Monday.”

“SO,
you’re having a nooner with Master Black?” Chaz asked with a straight face.

“Why are you here bugging me? You never work on Mondays.”

“Because you didn’t fill me in on what happened over the weekend. I knew if I asked you about it over the phone, and something did happen, you could lie and I wouldn’t know. Face-to-face, I can always tell when you’re lying, so spill the deets,
ma chérie
.”

Amery refilled her coffee. “We went to a bar after work Friday night, he fixed me dinner at his place, and I came home. No mattress mambo for us, if you’re wondering—but not because the chemistry’s not there. I worked on Saturday until Emmylou dragged me to this truly horrible piece of performance art at some dive bar.” She shuddered.

Chaz tsk-tsked. “I warned you about that weird shit she’s into. I won’t be surprised the day she comes in here wearing a collar and chains. She’s destined to be somebody’s bitch.”

“Funny, Emmylou said the same thing about you,” Amery shot back.

“Please. I own up to being anyone’s bitch, anytime, anyplace. I’m not in denial.” He wandered back to his work area.

Amery followed him. “What masterpieces are you creating now?”

“Three actually. This one is for a gay manga collection.” He shuffled through the papers and pulled out a sheet.

She examined it closely. Yes, it was over-the-top erotic, but the artwork was phenomenal and incredibly detailed. “This is fabulous.”

“I know. Which is why they’re in negotiations with my agent for another big project.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I’m so proud of you!” She hugged him. “What else?”

“In addition to the straight manga contracts I already have? This guy I know has written a gay superhero series and he’s asked me to illustrate it. He wants to present the finished package to a new, edgier comic book line that’s building some good buzz.”

“This guy . . . do I know him?”

Chaz spun in his chair. “Nope.”

Then she knew. “Dammit, Chaz, you’re sleeping with him already?”

“Yep.”

“What about Andre?”

“What about him?” Chaz said breezily. “I’d be up for a threesome, but as it stands, boy A don’t know about boy B and maybe I’d like to keep it that way.”

Then maybe you should keep it in your pants.

Chaz glared at her, even though she hadn’t said a word. “About to go all holier-than-thou on me? No wonder you didn’t get laid this weekend.”

“Really? I get that snap judgment snark from other people, Chaz; I don’t need it from you, so piss off.”

Amery stormed into her office and slammed the door.

She hated that Chaz could be so mean. He knew about her screwed up her childhood as the daughter of a fundamentalist Christian minister. She’d been shamed by her body, shamed by her need for physical intimacy, shamed for just about everything. Threatened by eternal punishment from God for every little transgression, but the punishments from her dad were always way worse. And her mother had just stood by and let the man of the house rule. Watching as her husband belittled and shamed Amery until the day Amery left for college.

So it wasn’t any surprise the first real relationship after she’d dated casually for a couple of years had been fucked up from the start. Tyler, star athlete, self-professed Christian boy, had played on her insecurities, manipulated her, and used her until he hadn’t needed her anymore.

Chaz had been the one to pick up the pieces. He’d always been there to bolster her when she needed it. And for him to be so harsh toward her now? She didn’t deserve it from him. She wasn’t judging him. She just wanted him to be careful. Mixing business with pleasure wasn’t a good idea.

And yet here you are, about to do a presentation for a man that you hope to get naked with very soon. Maybe you
were
pulling an attitude on Chaz.

But there was nothing she could do about it now—she didn’t think she had anything to apologize for. Besides, they both needed to cool off.

Amery grabbed her portfolio and her laptop and left through the back door.

Parking wasn’t any easier to find around the dojo during the day. She ended up hoofing it three blocks, so she was sweaty and wrinkled when she entered the main entrance ten minutes late.

The elevator dumped her on the second floor into one long corridor. No reception area. She followed the hallway midway down until she came to a door.
BLACK ARTS
was etched in the frosted glass, along with
by appointment only
.

Did she knock? Or walk in? Was the door locked?

After thirty seconds of indecision, Amery knocked rapidly four times and opened the door. “Sensei Black?” she said loudly as she stepped into an empty waiting area.

The big blond instructor exited from a door halfway down the hall. He beckoned her closer. “We’re in here, Ms. Hardwick.”

Amery plastered on a smile. Her heels clicked loudly on the tile floors and she wished she’d worn different shoes.

He bowed slightly and offered his hand. “I’m Knox Lofgren. We met briefly the night you signed up for the self-defense class.”

“I’m hoping you won’t hold my behavior that night against me, Shihan.”

“No. But you did manage to get under Sensei’s skin, which is as rare as it is amusing.” He pushed open the door. “Come in and get settled. Ronin is on a conference call and he’ll be in shortly. Would you care for coffee? Tea? A soda?”

“I’m good, thank you.” They’d entered a large meeting room lined with windows and a U-shaped conference table in the center. Another guy stood when she came in.

He looked . . . mean. Bald head. Tattoos decorating his arm from wrists to elbows. Tattoos peeking out from the V in his T-shirt. His eyes were the lightest blue—almost translucent. He wasn’t tall—not as big as Ronin and definitely not as big as Knox—but he was built like a cement block. Solid. Probably solid muscle. She guessed he was somewhere around her age.

“Ms. Hardwick, this is Deacon McConnell.”

Deacon also offered her a slight bow before extending his hand. “Ms. Hardwick, it is a pleasure.”

Oh, wow, he had a honey-thick Southern drawl that softened his I’m-a-badass vibe. She smiled at him. “Please, both of you, call me Amery. And I have to ask, what is your official title, Deacon?”

“Yondan. Fourth-degree black belt.”

“Technically my official title is Godan, which is fifth degree black belt,” Knox said. “Students call me Shihan as a sign of respect since I’m the second-highest belt rank in the dojo.”

She pointed to the screen on the wall. “I hope you’re not expecting a PowerPoint presentation?”

“To be honest, we weren’t sure what to expect.”

“So neither of you knows why I’m here?”

They shook their heads.

“Sensei Black approached me last week about creating a new logo for the dojo. He indicated he’s needed to do that for some time.”

Knox grinned. “Hot damn. I’m happy to hear that.”

Deacon nodded.

“Bear in mind I have limited ideas because I am waiting for more input.”

“Which they’ll be happy to provide,” Ronin said behind her.

She jumped and whirled around. “You have
got
to stop doing that to me, Master Black.”

“Ronin,” he murmured.

“But we’re in the dojo, aren’t we?” she murmured back.

“Technically? No. So relax.”

Knox and Deacon seemed to be watching them very closely.

“I see you’ve met Knox, my second–in-command, for lack of a better term. And Deacon, my third-in-command.”

Amery seized the chance to learn more about Ronin. She looked at Knox. “How long have you been associated with Black Arts, Shihan?”

“Since I was discharged from the service five years ago.”

“And you, Yondan?”

“Three years.”

From what she’d read about dojos and the student’s loyalty to train with one master for years, and sometimes decades, she’d expected both of these men to have been with Sensei longer.

“While we’re informal, please call us by our first names,” Knox said.

Ronin pulled out a chair for her. Then he parked himself right beside her.

Damn hard not to get flustered. Especially since the man wasn’t giving her any space. He was dressed like Knox and Deacon in a white T-shirt and white gi pants. None of them wore shoes. What had they been doing before she showed up? Working out? Sparring? Rolling around on the mats beating on each other? Why did that image make her heart pound?

“Problem?” Ronin prompted.

Her cheeks flamed. Stupid lily-white skin. She fake-coughed. “I might need some water after all.”

Amery expected Ronin to appoint either of these guys to get her a drink. But he grabbed a bottle of water from the minibar fridge and handed it to her.

She really wanted to roll the plastic bottle over her hot face, but she uncapped it and drank. Then she smiled. “You guys will want to come down here because my ideas are on the computer.”

Knox and Deacon crowded behind her. At some point Ronin had draped his arm over the back of her chair. Now he was so close she could smell his scent: sweat and laundry soap. She could feel the heat of his thigh muscle pressing against the outside of her leg. Then his fingers would absentmindedly drift across her shoulder.

The man had thrown her completely off her game.

Take control. You don’t want to look incompetent.

“I’ll run through it once as a slide show and then we can stop on individual images to see if anything pops out at you.”

She wasn’t expecting them to chatter, but their absolute silence unnerved her.

Knox spoke first. “I like images three and seven.”

“Those are polar opposites. One has clean lines. The other has Japanese influences.”

“Probably why I like them both. Any chance you could marry those two styles into something bolder?”

Amery started clicking on the keys, designing on the fly. Taking suggestions. Adding, discarding.

An hour of collaboration later, Black Arts had a great new logo. They were so pleased with it even Deacon said, “Fine job.”

Then Knox and Deacon left the conference room.

“You are very good at what you do, Amery. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you.”

“But I’ll confess I hoped it’d take a lot longer. That way we would have excuses for long lunches.”

She gave Ronin an arch look. “So you need an excuse to see me?”

Annoyance flashed in his eyes. “No.”

“Good to know. Do you want to give me a list of all the promotional items you’ll need updated? I can set up the orders with the printer and make sure everything fits—”

Ronin grabbed her by the back of the neck and stopped her jabbering with a long, deep, wet kiss. By the time he pulled back, her body shook. Inwardly. Outwardly. And Ronin took great satisfaction in his effect on her. He didn’t say a word; he didn’t have to. He just leaned in to kiss her again.

The next kiss was lazy. A sensual exploration. He caressed the side of her face while he fed her kiss after kiss. Then he cranked up the intensity. She finally understood what it meant to be weak-kneed—and she was sitting down. If Ronin kept this up she’d slide into a big puddle on the floor.

The door opened and Knox said, “Ronin, do we have—oh, shit. Sorry. Didn’t mean to barge in.” Then he was gone.

Amery turned her head and rested her cheek on his. “Guess your second-in-command knows we’re . . .”
Whatever this is
. She’d wait to hear what term he used to explain it.

“I won’t hide the fact that we’re seeing each other. The only place it might be an issue is in the dojo during class.”

“I’m not dropping out,” she warned. “Molly needs this class, and the only way she’ll stay in it is if I’m around.”

He gently tilted her head back. “I wouldn’t ask you to quit.”

“Then I think you should let Sandan Zach teach me.”

“No.
I’m
teaching you.”

She did not understand why it was so important to him, but he had that
don’t argue with
Sensei Black
look in his eyes, so she let it slide.

“But I don’t want to wait until class to see you. What are you doing tonight?”

“A Bikram yoga class. I’m exhausted afterward. Don’t you teach tonight?”

“Yes.” He sucked her lower lip and gently bit down. “Since I can’t see you tonight, have lunch with me.”

“Did you already make reservations someplace like last time?” she teased.

“No.” Ronin lifted her hand and kissed her palm. “I ordered in a light lunch and thought we’d eat upstairs at my place.”

Amery had opened her mouth to say yes when Knox walked in and headed to the minifridge for a bottle of water. He drank deeply and addressed Ronin. “Are you coming back to finish our training session?”

“No. Amery and I are having lunch upstairs.”

Knox’s jaw tightened and his gaze winged between Amery and Ronin. “I’ll remind you that you called this training session. If you’re leaving halfway through, Deacon and I won’t be around when you’re done.”

Ronin carefully placed Amery’s hand on her lap and stood. He said, “A word please,” to Knox before he brushed past him.

Might make her snoopy, but given the tension between the two macho men, something was going on and she wanted to know what. She hopped up and stood by the door. And she heard way more than she bargained for.

“Lose the attitude, Knox.”

“Or what? You gonna discipline me?”

“Maybe I need to,” Ronin said evenly. “Regardless of our friendship, I’m still your sensei and your boss.”

“What is it about that woman?” Knox demanded. “You’ve been off your game since the moment she walked into this dojo.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

“I can’t explain it.”

“You mean you won’t explain it,” Knox said hotly. “Is she why you were wandering around aimlessly at the club Saturday night?”

Amery frowned. Club? What club?

“That is none of your fucking business.”

“Bullshit, Ronin. I was fucking there after Naomi, remember? And this goddamn situation has Naomi written all over it again.”

Who the hell was Naomi?

“We are not discussing this. You and Deacon are done for the day. I’ll finish up the paperwork on the job proposal for Stanislovsky after lunch.”