Unraveled (30 page)

He shook his head.

As she struggled to answer, Knox felt compelled to point out, “It’s not sex, since
you haven’t fucked all the subs you’ve been with.”

“
All the subs
makes it sound like I’ve had a cast of thousands,” she murmured. “I could answer
this better if you gave me some options, because I’m drawing a blank.”

“You need power in the bedroom. Why? At Okada you were one of the top ten executives.
It wasn’t like you were a whipping boy who needed another outlet to reclaim power.
You already had it.”

She looked down at her hands. “I was the whipping boy in my marriage. I had to settle
for the little he gave me. So my favorite part of being a Domme is getting what
I
want for a change.”

“What do you want?”

When her gaze met his, the raw emotion in her eyes robbed him of air. “Affection.”

He couldn’t speak.

“Do you know what it’s like to be starved for a lover’s touch? I do. I craved the
caress of a man’s hand on my skin. I wanted kisses, touches, a connection of the intimate
kind because every guy I’d been with had denied me that basic pleasure.” She closed
her eyes. “Why do you think I didn’t have sex with my previous submissives? Because
when I was in charge, I could demand they give me what I’d been deprived of. I wanted
that affection even if I had to force it. I needed it so much more than another emotionless
fuck.”

Sweet baby Jesus. How had he not seen this? From the very first time they’d become
intimate, Shiori had insisted some part of
his body stay in constant contact with hers. He’d considered it a cute quirk, not
a deep-seated need. To realize she’d been denied that made him ache for her.

“I’ve never told anyone that.” Her voice broke. “The poor little rich girl who has
to command a man into giving her simple human affection.” She glanced up. Her voice
was barely above a whisper. “Please tell me what I can do to fix this between us.”

How about you humiliate yourself like you humiliated me
?

He’d never demand that of her, but that’s what his male ego wanted, because that’s
how she’d handle it. Like when she used the switch on him for acting like one.

“Should I apologize to everyone at Black Arts for questioning your authority? I will.
But after I got the beat-down in the ring, I’m the one who looks like the fool and
the tool. Not you.”

When he loomed over her, the scent of her skin drifted into his lungs as a potent
lure. Lust grabbed him by the balls and distracted him.

Before he crafted a response, Shiori dropped to her knees into the submissive pose.
She tore off her mask and let it fall to the floor.

Shocked, he just stared at her as she lowered her body even more, in a traditional
dogeza
bow, her forehead and arms to the floor, the Japanese way of showing the highest level
of respect from the most humble position.

He’d sensed their intense conversation had drawn interest from the club members. But
after Mistress B genuflected at his feet, the room had gone quiet.

Knox’s heart raced. Sweat broke out on his brow. His eyes burned. And everything that
had been tight and angry inside him . . . loosened.

Shiori sat up and snaked her hand around his calf, pressing her face against his knee.
Her whispered, “Please forgive me,” was reverent and quiet enough that he doubted
anyone else heard her.

But he’d heard her, and that was all that mattered.

In that moment Knox finally understood what he meant to her. And he couldn’t deny
what she meant to him. He lowered into a crouch and cradled her face in his hands,
wiping away her tears. “My Mistress should never sit at my feet. I should always sit
at yours.” He kissed her softly, chastely, showing them both the power in their connection.
“You’re forgiven,” he murmured against her lips.

With innate grace, she returned to a standing position. Keeping one hand on his shoulder,
she helped him up.

Once he was upright, she slid her hands around his neck. The rush of emotion arcing
between them had him swaying into her. “Can we please get out of here now?”

“Yes.”

Applause broke out around them, and he felt his face flame—not from embarrassment
that he’d been caught on his knees, but because too many people had witnessed their
intimate moment.

Knox held his head high when his Mistress led him out of the club.

SHIORI
didn’t speak on the drive to Knox’s house. But she did clasp his right hand in both
of hers and run her fingers up and down his forearm until he said, “Baby, I need that
hand to drive for a minute.”

“Okay.”

He kissed her knuckles. “But then you can have it back. I promise.”

Rain started to pour down. After Knox parked in front of the garage, he came around
and helped her out of his truck. He didn’t let go of her hand until they were in the
house.

Before he turned on any lights, he pulled her into his arms, holding her so tightly
her face was smashed against his chest.

She didn’t mind. During the long night she’d spent pacing alone, she worried she’d
never feel these strong arms around her again.

He brushed the hair from her damp face—when had she started crying?—and rested his
hands on her cheeks. Knox stared into her eyes for so long she wondered what he was
looking for. Then he pressed his mouth to hers just once.

She had an overwhelming sense of panic. Was this how he’d punish her? Withhold his
affection? Because that would kill her.

“Shiori. Breathe.”

“Don’t . . .” She couldn’t get the words out; she didn’t have enough air.

Knox bent down until they were eye to eye. “I’m here. Right here. Breathe with me.”

She inhaled and started to cough.

He gathered her in his arms again. “Breathe in. Slow and steady. You tell me that
my scent calms you. Bury your nose in my armpit if it’ll help—but, kitten, I wouldn’t
recommend that.”

She managed a laugh, but it came out sounding like a sob.

That’s when he enveloped her in his affection. Kisses on the top of her head. Hands
caressing and rubbing her back and her arms.

Shiori did use the scent of his skin as a calming form of aromatherapy.

He tipped her face back and peered into her eyes again. “Better?”

“A little.”

“I know we need to talk. But it’s late and I am whupped. And I see dark circles under
your eyes too, so I suspect you haven’t been sleeping either.”

“Part of the dark circle on this side is actually a bruise.” Immediately after she
said it she wished she hadn’t.

“I know. But we can talk about that when we both have clear heads.”

“All right.”

Knox placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. Then he clasped her hand in his and
led her to his bedroom. The lamp he turned on in the corner cut the total darkness.
After she kicked her shoes off, she stood at the end of the bed with her arms curled
around herself, wondering why she couldn’t just whip off her clothes and crawl between
the sheets. That’s when she started to shake. From her wet clothes, from her relief,
from her fear.

Instantly Knox’s warm arms seemed to cover every inch of her upper torso. “Shiori,
you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s get you undressed.” He turned her around and pulled her shirt over her head.
Then he unhooked her bra and unzipped her pants, tugging the leather down her legs,
leaving her in just her panties. Part of her wanted to protest that he didn’t need
to treat her like a child, but it was a small part. He slipped a T-shirt over her
head and softly kissed her lips. “Crawl in. I’ll be right there.”

The sheets were cool on her bare legs. Strange that she felt warmer now in just a
T-shirt than she had fully clothed. She watched Knox open the windows before he turned
the light off. Then the mattress dipped and a warm body moved in behind her. He draped
his arm over her side, tucking her more firmly against him. Then his other arm slipped
beneath her pillow.

A damp breeze wafted over her and she closed her eyes.

But she couldn’t sleep.

“It’ll keep until morning,” Knox mumbled.

“What?”

“Whatever it is that’s keeping you awake.”

“Maybe I’m just lying here enjoying the fresh air on my face. I never open my windows.”

“Never? Why not?”

“Too smoggy in Tokyo.”

“What about in your penthouse?”

“Guess I didn’t think about it.”

“So you haven’t ever lain in bed and listened to the rain?”

“No. It smells good. I never noticed that before.”

“I could say something corny like it’s past time you stopped to smell the rain, but
I’ll just say the scent and sound of rain falling is one of the most relaxing things
in the world.” He rubbed his mouth across the shell of her ear. “Let it lull you to
sleep.”

Shiori listened to the
ping-ping
of raindrops connecting with metal. And the soft patter of water on the concrete.
The breeze brought the scents of dirt and growing things.

Her eyelids grew heavier. Before sleep overtook her, she believed she’d found heaven,
being cocooned in bed with Knox as rain fell.

*   *   *

THE
next morning when Shiori awoke she curbed her wave of disappointment that the windows
were closed. She had another pang when she realized Knox wasn’t in bed with her. Pushing
up, she glanced at the clock. Nine a.m.

No sound of him banging pots and pans in the kitchen. No sound of the TV blasting
some sports channel. No sound of the shower running.

She got out of bed to track him down.

Her feet made no noise as she ventured to the main part of the house. She froze when
she saw him standing in front of the picture window, shirtless, in just his boxers.

“You aren’t nearly as stealthy as Ronin,” Knox said without turning around.

“Ronin has trained with a master who is a seventh-line descendant of ninja warriors.
So he’s got the rolling-in-and-out-like-fog thing down.” She edged closer. “Are you
okay?”

“I don’t know. Lately, I’m just . . . out of my element.”

“With what?”

“With the dojo. With the MMA program. With you.” He paused. “And the one person I
always talk to about this stuff isn’t here. And even if he were, I couldn’t talk to
him.”

“So talk to me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s guy stuff.”

“Does some of it have to do with the way I disrespected you Thursday night?”

His shoulders stiffened. “Some.”

“I want to make this right between us. I’d planned to make an apology at the next
staff meeting about—”

“Jesus, don’t do that.” Knox whirled around. “Don’t you understand that’ll just make
it worse? Make me look even more like a chump.”

She stared at him, wondering if her pride had cost her the best thing that had happened
to her.

“You apologized to me. No one else needs to know the particulars. And I’d be surprised
if you openly defied me in public again.” He offered her a brittle smile. “But in
private? That’s a whole other story.”

“Knox, I feel like you say you’ve forgiven me, but you haven’t. I don’t want you holding
back because you’re waiting for that defiant bitch to show up again.”

“Maybe part of me is.”

That blow from him hurt worse than Mia’s elbow to the head.

Knox stepped closer. “But another part of me wants to rewind. Return to Thursday at
noon when we were locked body to body, mouth to mouth, in the Crow’s Nest.”

Shiori touched his face. “At that point in time we knew what we both needed. I have
no idea what you need now.”

“I need you.”

“How?”

“With no pressure. Can we just be in the same space today without any of this hanging
over us? If we end up wanting to bang each other’s brains out, I’ll hand you the reins.
But for everything else? I get to choose what we do on this rainy day.”

“Okay.” She looked down at her feet.

Knox tipped her face up, forcing her attention. “First thing I want today?”

“What?”

“To see your fight injuries.” She tried to jerk out of his hold, but he held firm.
“Not kidding. Strip off the T-shirt.”

Ten arguments danced on the tip of her tongue, but she bit them all back. Then she
lifted her arms above her head and looked at Knox. If he wanted her shirt off so bad,
he could take it off.

He eased the fabric over her head.

So she stood in front of him naked, except for her panties. She kept her eyes closed
as his rough-tipped fingers mapped every bruise, welt, and cut. Front and back. When
he finally finished, he wrapped a blanket around her nakedness and pulled her into
a hug. He didn’t say
I tried to tell you
, or
I’m sorry
. He just held her like a precious, fragile thing.

That’s when she finally admitted to herself that she loved him.

*   *   *

RONIN
and Amery were expected to return home soon—not that her brother had called anyone
to share his exact plans. The e-mail he’d sent Knox that said they were staying in
Hawaii before they returned to Denver had no specific dates.

The week after her extreme fuckup with Knox had been wrought with challenges. Not
for Knox—her screwup had put more people on Team Knox.

Fee had been so pissed off that Shiori worried she’d take a swing at her.

Blue looked at her suspiciously.

Maddox steered clear of her.

Deacon growled and snarled, which she hoped meant he was coming around.

Katie . . . well, she’d been a welcome surprise. She’d gotten teary-eyed when she’d
talked about watching the fight. But she said she understood why Shiori had gotten
in the ring. Katie didn’t like men telling her that she couldn’t—or shouldn’t—do something
either. Then she’d gone off on a tangent about her childhood dog, Pixie, that had
nothing to do with anything they’d been discussing, but the story had made Shiori
laugh so hard she’d cried. And when the tears became real tears, Katie had just handed
her tissue after issue and told her to get it all out.

But things had gotten back to normal for her and Knox. It’d taken a few days. It’d
taken a small whipping after Knox kept testing
her boundaries. But she would’ve been disappointed if he hadn’t tried to use her fuckup
to his advantage. Holding firm with him had proved she could, and after that his trust
issues weren’t an issue.

So today was a good day. Clear blue skies. Temperate breeze. Sun shining. No wonder
Colorado had so many outdoor enthusiasts—the weather was gorgeous.

She had to run a few errands before heading to the dojo. She waited outside her apartment
high-rise, going over her to-do list on her phone, when a black Town Car pulled up.
When Tom exited the driver’s side, she smiled with relief. She liked him, despite
Knox’s claim that Tom eyed her like a juicy slab of steak.

Tom grinned at her and opened the rear door. “Morning. Lovely day, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I was just thinking the same thing. Made me wish I could just walk where I needed
to go today.”

His gaze dropped to her feet. “I wouldn’t recommend it in those shoes.”

The shoes were impractical—Dolce & Gabbana black lace pumps with rhinestone flowers
on the toes and four-inch heels—but she had a ridiculous love for them. Right before
she climbed into the back, she noticed a dark stain in the middle of the seat.

“Problem?” Tom asked.

“Looks like someone spilled coffee or something else in here.”

Tom leaned inside for a better look. When he straightened up, fury blazed in his eyes.
“I apologize. Evidently this car didn’t get cleaned last night. I can call for them
to bring us a different car—”

“Not necessary. I’ll just sit on the other side.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“I’ll at least cover it up so you don’t have to look at it.”

Shiori skirted the back end of the car and climbed in, happy that she’d seen the stain
before she sat on it in her white linen pants.

After Tom draped a blanket over the stain, he slid into the
driver’s seat and met her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Are we still on the same itinerary
you e-mailed us this morning?”

“Yes. With one addition. There’s an art-supply store I want to stop at.” She rattled
off the address and he poked the info into the GPS.

“That’s a ways out. We can either make it our first stop or our last.”

“Last works for me.”

Shiori stared out the window as they zipped down the freeway. Since she’d started
teaching nights at Black Arts, she hadn’t attended any events at the Japanese Social
Club where she had been a frequent patron upon her arrival in the United States. But
she’d always had mixed feelings about the place where she’d introduced Ronin to his
now-ex, Naomi, a few years back, which had ended in disaster. After she’d first come
to Denver, she’d hung out a fair amount at the club since she hadn’t known anyone
in the city besides her brother. She’d met some nice people, but no one indicated
they’d like to see her socially outside of the club. Hearing her native language had
eased her homesickness. But being there also reminded her Americans were friendlier
than her countrymen.

A couple of months ago she’d promised to donate to their fund-raiser for a children’s
art center, and since she’d pledged such a large amount, she had to sign the contract
in person.

After they pulled up to the clubhouse and Tom opened the door, she said, “This meeting
will take fifteen minutes at the most.”

The club director decided to hard sell her on becoming more active in the club—meaning
giving more money. She forced a smile and wondered what the guy would say if she admitted
she’d traded their culture club for a sex club. By the time she’d extricated herself
from his clutches, thirty minutes had passed.

The next two stops were recon for businesses that had applied to be sponsors for Black
and Blue Promotions’s next event. After each visit, she jotted down her observations
so Katie could follow up.

With the traffic and the distance between her stops, two hours
had passed since she’d left the penthouse. But this art store had a different kind
of paint she wanted to try. And since her new project would be on much larger canvases,
with a vivid red backdrop, she needed several large cans of the base paint.