bag.
Then he went home and watched rugby—a real man’s sport.
Then he called Deacon and talked him into hitting the strip club. He paid for two lap dances. That was him, being in control, asserting his dominance. Being a man.
When his head hit the pillow at midnight, he relived the day.
But it wasn’t the lap dances and the sports machismo that stuck in his mind.
It was that damn kiss. Because for the briefest moment, he felt the pull of her. Not in his groin, but somewhere deeper inside him.
Knox had no fucking clue what it meant. And he sure as hell wasn’t gonna ask her.
* * *
THE next afternoon Knox was supervising the new trainees for the MMA program. So far none of these guys impressed him. But they’d paid for the training, so he walked a fine line between false encouragement and the brutal truth. Maybe he was a softer touch than Ronin, but he could still get his point across.
A softer touch doesn’t mean you’re submissive.
Where the motherfuck had that thought come from?
And of course Shiori picked that moment to stroll in, looking like some fucking queen with the regal way she carried herself.
His admiration of her didn’t mean he wanted to bend down and kiss her feet or anything. All the guys who worked for Ronin and Blue thought she was the shit.
She hadn’t changed into her gi yet. She wore a sexy suit and heels, entirely in professional businesswoman mode. And he could tell by the way she hung back that she was waiting to talk to him.
He strolled over, keeping his face neutral. “What’s up?”
“Can we talk in the office about rescheduling some of the instructors?”
“Why?”
“I’ll tell you in the office.” She spun on her high heels and walked off.
Don’t run after her. Let her wait. She can’t expect you to drop everything when she beckons.
Knox stood there with his arms crossed, pretending to watch two trainees swinging and missing inside the ring.
Deacon sidled up to him. “You and Shiori are at it again?”
“Yeah, well, she can’t just show up, snap her fingers, and expect me to do her bidding. I got shit of my own to deal with.”
“Like how long are you gonna let these wannabes pay tuition when they can’t fight their way out of a paper bag?”
“They’re paid through the end of the month. Since there’s a ‘no refunds’ policy, it’d be fairest to tell them they’re out of the program when it’s time to re-up.”
“I’d agree with that. I’d also like to hash it out on why we’re wasting our time on these wannabes.” He ran his hand over his bald head. “Does Black Arts need the money or something?”
“Doubtful, but I’ll ask She-Cat. See if she throws a hissy fit about me questioning the financials.” Knox grinned at his own joke.
“Jesus. Can you two just fuck already? That’s obviously your problem.”
Knox scowled. “I’m not her type.”
“Whatever.”
Five full minutes later he strolled to the Black Arts offices. Shiori sat at Ronin’s desk, pencil and Post-its at hand. “What’re you doing?”
“Checking the schedule to see where I can make changes.”
Knox moved in behind her, placing one hand on the back of her chair and one on the desk as he loomed over her. “Why do we need changes?”
“Because I have to check out a factory Okada is interested in buying. Since geographically I’m the closest rep, I’ve been selected to make the pitch.”
“Geographically the closest. What does that mean?”
“The factory is in Mexico. The United States is closer than Japan. But since Ronin took the company plane back to Japan, I have to fly commercial.”
“Poor baby,” he said with zero sympathy. “I thought you quit working for Okada before you came here.”
Shiori tipped her head back and looked at him. “I left my position in the company, but I didn’t quit entirely. What do you think I’ve been doing during the hours I’m not in the dojo?”
He blinked at her.
“Oh, so you assume I’ve been flitting around, shopping, visiting spas, and lunching with all my friends?”
“Or maybe you were practicing your whip technique?” It slipped out.
“It takes practice, as I’m sure you know. But I am required to work for Okada, according to the terms of my visa. Since I’m going out of the country, we need to shift some instructors.”
“We’ll turn your classes into open exercises and that’ll fix it.”
She shook her head. “I can see that as a solution if I’d be gone only a day or two. But I’m planning to be gone all week.”
His eyes narrowed. “Will this be a regular thing? Because you promised Sensei you’d be fully invested with Black Arts. And now you’re taking off the second fucking week Ronin is gone?”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“Fine. Put Zach in your advanced classes. Chelle can cover your early classes. Then we’ll have open exercises in the others.”
“That makes it easy. Thanks for your input.”
“No problem.”
They stared at each other.
“Is there anything else you need to fill me in on before you jet off to Me-hi-co?”
“No. Just that I . . .”
Knox leaned closer. He’d never seen her flustered. It’d be easy to fall back into his dickish behavior, but he couldn’t quite do it. “Shitake, you don’t have to be embarrassed to admit how much you’ll miss me when you’re south of the border. Word is I’m a really great guy.”
She smiled as he’d hoped she would. “Only in your dreams, Ob-Knox-ious.”
“You’re all set to go?”
“I leave at eleven p.m. so I can make the morning meetings.”
“I don’t envy you the red-eye flight. I used to take that one home when I was on leave. I figured I’d rather sleep on the plane than lose time with my family.”
“You never talk about your family.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “We can’t act civilized to each other long enough to have a conversation about anything.”
“That’s a fact.”
“But when you get back, we need to talk.” Shit. That sounded like he wanted to revisit their discussion from yesterday. “About Black Arts. We need to revamp the MMA program, and we’ve got a chance to hire the premier MMA trainer.”
“Why is he available?”
“He needs a change. I have a rough idea of Black Arts financials. This guy won’t be cheap, but hiring him could actually solve half a dozen of our problems with the programs. Problems that Ronin hasn’t wanted to face.”
“I’m in agreement that changes need to be made. After I get back, bring me the guy’s name, his salary needs, his qualifications, and we’ll hammer it out.”
“Sounds good. Safe travels.” He turned and started to leave.
She said, “Knox?” as he reached the door.
“Yeah?”
“Black Arts isn’t all we need to talk about.”
He couldn’t look at her when he said, “I know.” Before he said something stupid, he walked out.
CHAPTER FIVE
TWISTED was dead Saturday night.
Knox was in his rotation as bartender. Due to low attendance, he had plenty of time to watch the dozen members who had the lounge area to themselves. Jake and Ginny and were deep in a negotiation. Bill and Joe were facing the fireplace, and the way Joe’s head kept bobbing, Bill was enjoying more than a glass of wine. Master Kirk had Patsy wrapped in a blanket after a scene. Leanne sat on the floor by Mistress Annabelle, rubbing her feet. Two new female submissives were chatting in the corner, sending pointed looks to two Doms who looked like they were discussing sports.
Master Merrick slid into a seat at the bar. “Knox.”
“What can I get you tonight,
sir?”
“Tanqueray and tonic.”
After Knox got Merrick’s approval on the drink, he rested his elbows on the bar. “Slow night.”
“It happens. My bottom line doesn’t change if members show up or not. It’s nice to have a break once in a while. Which suits you tonight, since bartending isn’t your thing.”
Knox grinned. “I’m a beer guy, so I’m great at popping tops and pulling drafts.”
“With mixed drinks, it’s all about taking the time to get the ratios right.” Merrick ran his hand through his hair. “I haven’t talked to you in a while. How’ve you been?”
“Good. Busy at the dojo since Ronin is out of the country. I always think he walks around like lord of his domain . . . until I actually have to do his job. Then I remember how much it sucks to be the big boss. How much pressure there is.”
“It’s not as easy as some assume, being the lord of your own domain,” he said dryly. “I swear the majority of my time is spent dealing with privacy and security issues. Doesn’t leave free time to enjoy the fruits of my labors.”
“I haven’t seen you in here much lately.”
Merrick poked the ice cubes in his drink with his straw. “The Friday night crew is in need of my presence. Not the staff, but the members who decide to test their limits or try something new. It can be entertaining. I was here last Saturday, just briefly, to meet with a new Domme to the club.” He glanced up. “You were here, right?”
He nodded. “I was booked in the back.”
“Did you meet Mistress B?” he asked casually.
Knox leaned in. “Yes. And because I work with that woman every goddamn day, I recognized her right away. The mask and the platinum wig didn’t fool me. She was as surprised to see me as I was to see her.”
“I’ll bet. I found it interesting she didn’t apply for membership as Ronin’s sister. She used her club references in Tokyo. Only after she and I met in person did she tell me who she was.” He took a drink. “Will her being here be a problem for you?”
Not in the way you might think, because the damn woman makes me think. Annoyed by that thought, he said, “She and I constantly butt heads at the dojo,” a little testily.
“You worried because of her martial-arts skills and being a Domme she’ll take punishments too far here at the club?”
Knox frowned at him. “That’s the last worry I’d ever have with her. The only person I’ve ever seen with more control is her brother.”
“So is it the idea of seeing her in a sexual situation that’s causing your concern?”
He thought back to last week when she’d made Dex come just by commanding it. That’d been hot as hell. But she hadn’t demanded reciprocation. What if she had? Could Knox have stood there watching Dex get Mistress B off with his hand or his mouth?
No. And fuck if that feeling of . . . possession didn’t annoy him too. As much as he’d like to witness She-Cat losing control and see what she looked like lost in passion, he knew he couldn’t stand watching it happen at the hands of another man.
I’d want it to be me getting her off. Watching her writhe on my tongue, my fingers, my cock as she comes unraveled.
“Knox?”
He met Merrick’s gaze. “I don’t know. I talked to her after her scene with Dex. I wasn’t surprised to learn that she’s a Domme. What I can’t wrap my head around are male submissives.”
“She tried to explain it to you?”
“Tried and failed.”
Merrick studied him in depth.
“What?”
“You’ve been part of Twisted for five years, Knox. My trust in you is implicit. So I’m going to tell you something that very few people know about me.”
When Knox grabbed himself a beer, Merrick laughed.
“You may need that when I tell you I was a submissive for seven years.”
Knox choked on his beer. “No shit? But you’re so . . . Jesus, Merrick. You know how goddamn formidable you are.”
“And there’s where your problem originates. You see male submissives as weak, probably as pansy asses with mommy-pleasing issues, the need to be coddled, but I assure you that’s a dead-wrong assessment. Dead wrong,” he repeated.
“So how’d you meet your . . . ?”
“I met Lizette when I was eighteen. I’d moved to Denver to attend college. She was this beautiful, dynamic woman twenty years older than me, who owned my apartment building and ran her own successful real-estate-development company. She’d come by the apartment complex to check on something and I just happened to be in the manager’s office. Somehow we ended up in the courtyard talking for hours. My college education, my family life, the girls I’d dated. Then we discussed business and the difference between setting goals versus having dreams. She firmly believed strong discipline on one side of your life would automatically bolster the other. So she began to train me.”
“Did you know what she was?”
Merrick shook his head. “I’d never heard of a woman calling the shots in all aspects of her life being called anything except a cold, calculating, ball-busting bitch.” He smiled, but it held a hint of sadness. “Lizette was anything but cold. She was warm, giving, loving, and unashamed of her needs. I was young and so very green. She taught me everything I know about how to please a woman. Which meant I spent a lot of time learning mental and physical discipline at her feet and occasionally tied to her bed. I learned to please her not out of a sense of obligation, but because anticipating her needs gave me a sense of pride and purpose. No one knew her like I did. No one could give her what I did. When she trusted that I’d given her my all without boundaries or exceptions, she returned that adoration. I’d never felt so . . . complete. I finally felt like a man.”
When he paused to take a drink, Knox asked, “So did she expect out of you what I see the Dommes here expecting out of their submissives?”
“Yes. And no. Did I wear a collar? Of sorts. She gave me a necklace with a tiny charm that had our initials intertwined, and I wore it with the same pride submissives wear their collars. Did I spend time on my knees? Yes. During the first few months with her, she used that as a way for me to focus on her words and her voice. Other times when she demanded I drop to my knees, it was to service her.” Merrick glanced up. “Bear in mind all of this happened behind closed doors. She was a damn possessive woman. She hated the idea of anyone seeing me naked but her. So she never would’ve taken me to a club like this. She never would’ve strapped on a dildo and fucked me in public for the amusement of others. She used reward with me rather than humiliation. She didn’t care if others knew how well disciplined I was; she cared only that I showed my impeccable training to her as the ultimate respect for her. When we were together in public, it was trickier. Since she was so much older than me, she introduced me as her assistant.” He scowled. “Which rankled my young man’s ego big-time. I wanted everyone to know that I was solely hers, but I also understood that her business would suffer if we were out as a couple. We lived together in one of the bigger apartment buildings she owned, but I also had an apartment there—not that I think the ones closest to her were fooled.”
Knox swigged his beer. A million questions raced around in his head, but he waited for Merrick to continue.
“I graduated from college and went to work for her company. That year we bought and sold a record number of properties and made huge amounts of money. I had it all. The next year I’d almost had Lizette convinced we could take our relationship public when she . . .” His voice broke, and he took a sip of his drink. “She was diagnosed with breast cancer.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, man, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t good news. She tried to cut me out of her life. She fired me. She had the locks changed on the apartment. But I refused to accept that. I wouldn’t let my Mistress go through everything alone. I made her understand that she didn’t need to shelter me because I always had been—and always would be—he
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