Unraveled

by Lorelei James

  last night and what it meant. She’d sensed his resentment a few times, and she hadn’t been sure if she should be impressed by him masking it, or upset that he hadn’t been honest with her about how he felt. Since it’d been their first time together and it was new territory for both of them, she’d cut them some slack.

  And there was her problem. Should she tell Knox that she’d never been in a long-term relationship with a submissive? That being a one-man Domme would be as new to her as being submissive was to him? Or would that admission foster a lack of confidence and trust?

  In her club in Tokyo she had three different men she played with, mostly because she hadn’t found one man who gave her everything she needed. Out of those three subs, she’d had sex with only one. Oh, she’d let the other three pleasure her, but sometimes all she wanted was a man to pet her. If she needed to get off, she owned a collection of vibrators. But that body-to-body, skin-to-skin contact couldn’t be duplicated. Hard touches, tender caresses, a lazy sweep of a rough-skinned hand, a warm mouth sliding across every inch of her flesh . . . That’s what she craved, because that’s what she’d always been denied.

  Now, after being naked with Knox and having his hands and mouth all over her, she knew sex with him would be explosive. His natural, submissive instincts with her would push her to the pinnacle of pleasure, so she had to make sure she retained control at all times.

  The sound of footsteps reached her, and she turned to see who else had shown up today.

  Fee.

  “I knew you’d be here,” Fee said.

  “Why?”

  “Because this place feels like home.” She seemed surprised by her own admission. “Anyway, if you’re not busy, can you come upstairs and we’ll go over what we’re teaching at the self-defense class on Saturday?”

  “Sure. Do I need to change?”

  Fee’s gaze flicked over Shiori’s bronze blouse tucked into wide-legged brown and cream plaid trousers and her nude heels. “No. You look fantastic, as usual. Too bad it’s wasted on these guys.” She jerked her head toward the training room. “Katie just wants to double-check to make sure we don’t go over the allotted time.”

  “All right. Let’s go.”

  An hour later, they’d fine-tuned every detail. Katie had planned everything almost down to the minute, which was overkill, but better to be fully prepared.

  They rode the elevator down to the second floor and had stopped beside the exit to the front door to discuss lunch plans for after the self-defense class when Knox stuck his head out the door.

  “Shiori, I need to talk to you . . . if you’re done discussing Denver’s best tequila bars.”

  Fee muttered, “Jerkoff.”

  Katie smiled brightly at Knox. “She’s all yours, Shihan. We’re outta here. Everything on the third floor is shut down.”

  Shiori waited until they’d left before she faced Knox. “You bellowed?”

  “Get in here.”

  She wondered what his problem was and hated that his cranky attitude would likely rub off on her.

  Inside the office she saw Knox standing by the window with his back to her. “Shut the door.”

  “If this is about us doing the self-defense class, I’ll remind you that both you and Blue passed on it.” She walked to her desk and set the printout from Katie next to the report on recent equipment breakage.

  “That’s not why I called you in here.”

  “Then why?”

  Hands landed on her shoulders and she jumped. God. He was as stealthy as Ronin.

  “Why? Because I can’t get you—or what happened last night—out of my damn mind.”

  She smiled, although he couldn’t see it.

  “Then, just when I’d blocked thoughts of your naked body and what I’d really love to do to you the next time you ordered me to my knees, I saw you standing in the doorway to the training room.”

  “Oh?”

  “And Ivan took advantage of my distraction and punched me in the face.”

  She snickered. “Poor baby. Need me to get some ice for that?”

  “No. I need you to kiss it and make it better.” Knox turned her around and loomed over her.

  “If someone walks in, Knox, they’ll think—”

  “No one else is here.”

  She set her hands on his pecs. “Isn’t that fortunate.”

  “You tell me. Can I kiss you or not?”

  It made her almost giddy that he’d asked. “Yes, you may kiss me.”

  He clutched her hips and said, “Jump up.” As soon as she was sitting on her desk, he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss started out sweet and slow, but it quickly built up steam.

  As much as she loved the way he kissed—with his whole body—if they didn’t stop, he’d be banging her on the desk. She turned her head away, breaking the seal of their mouths.

  Knox nuzzled her temple. “So I’ve thought about what you said last night.”

  “And?”

  “And I’d like to explore more with you.”

  The way Knox kept touching her was wonderfully distracting. She grabbed his wayward hand, holding it between hers. “If we’re going forward with this, we need to be on the same page.”

  “You are such a rule follower, She-Cat,” he murmured against her neck.

  He lazily flicked his tongue over the pulse beating at the base of her throat. She had no doubt this man could make her body sing, but he needed a reminder that she got to pick the song. Shiori reached up and wrapped her hands around his throat.

  Knox immediately backed off. But he didn’t drop his gaze. He didn’t speak either, which earned him points.

  “I’m serious, Knox.”

  “I know you are.” He closed his eyes. “Last night was . . . not what I expected. What if it was a onetime fluke?” Those gorgeous blue eyes opened and were clouded with concern. “What if I can’t do this?”

  “Be submissive?”

  He nodded.

  Oh sweet, sexy man, I’ll wipe away all of that doubt if you’ll let me. She slid her hands over his strong, masculine jaw and framed his face. “I think you’re more afraid that you can do this.”

  He said nothing. Just stared at her.

  She let her hands fall away. “Here’s what I propose. Let’s each make a detailed list of what we want from this”—relationship seemed too intimate a word and contract sounded too businesslike, so she settled on—“arrangement. Also what we don’t want and the concerns about how it’ll affect our working together.”

  Knox groaned. “You’re giving me homework? There’s no doubt you’re a Domme, because that is pure punishment.”

  She laughed. “Luckily, I grade on a curve. But this is important, so don’t skimp on specifics.”

  “Fine. When did you want to exchange notes?”

  “We could meet for dinner Friday night. There’s a great restaurant—”

  “No. We’re not discussing this where we could be overheard. And knowing us, I’m betting our negotiations will get a little heated.”

  “True.”

  He clasped her hand and kissed her knuckles. His affection delighted her because it came so naturally to him. “Since we’re closed to classes due to the holiday, how about if you come to my house tonight and I’ll cook for you.”

  Shiori didn’t hide her surprise. “You cook?”

  “Not healthy gourmet stuff like your brother, but I know my way around the kitchen.” Knox kissed the inside of her wrist. “When was the last time someone cooked for you?”

  “Every night, because I’m a lousy chef.”

  He bit the base of her thumb. “Smart-ass. I meant when have you had a home-cooked meal, prepared by someone who wants to feed you but isn’t getting paid to do so?”

  Never. Not a lover anyway. Ronin and Amery had invited her over a few times, and she’d loved that. In Japan she and her friends went out to eat—dinner parties at private residences were rare.
“All right. You’ve convinced me. But no—”

  “Funny business. I get it. No Barry White playing in the background, no candlelight, no sexy finger foods to feed each other. I won’t even change my sheets in hopes that I’ll get you between them.”

  “Very accommodating. But who’s Barry White?”

  Knox laughed. “Never mind. What time should I pick you up?”

  “Give me your address and my car service will drop me off.”

  “I don’t mind coming to get you, Shiori.”

  “I know. But it’s just better this way.”

  He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue.

  “What should I bring?”

  “Just yourself. I’ll text you the address. Show up around six.” Knox kissed the back of her hand and retreated. “Now I’m leaving you to lock up since I have to hit the grocery store.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  KNOX had everything ready ten minutes before six.

  He wasn’t nervous, just impatient. He wanted to know what Shiori’s expectations were if they agreed to continue this . . . whatever this was.

  This is you agreeing to get on your knees, show your throat, and give her your balls.

  Fuck. He smacked his hand into the counter, wishing that voice of doubt would just shut the fuck up, because he had no goddamn idea where the voice was coming from. He’d always been secure in his masculinity and his sexuality—how other people lived their lives and how they made their choices was no reflection on him. That was part of what’d appealed to him about Twisted. Embracing the different strokes for different folks philosophy.

  And Shiori’s assessment that he hadn’t chosen a side bothered him only because she’d pointed out something he hadn’t acknowledged. He never played with other men sexually because that wasn’t his thing. But he had no problem using his skills with instruments of pain on other men. His one hard-and-fast rule at Twisted was he didn’t beat on women. Period. So he’d been the third player in different scenarios. Doms punishing and rewarding their male subs. Dommes punishing and rewarding their male subs. Doms who needed to connect with pain but didn’t trust another Dom to be discreet. Male submissives who sought to test their pain thresholds before playing with a Dom or a Domme. Male submissives who needed a break from playing with a Dom or a Domme—craving the pain and skipping the mind fuck that went along with it.

  So the ironic part of him being the whip master? He wasn’t a big fan of pain. He’d had the instruments he used on members used on him, just so he experienced what he administered. Pain didn’t arouse him. Neither did inflicting pain. He looked on it as a service he provided to the club and the members.

  The benefit of wielding the whip and the flogger were the women who saw him as powerful. He’d never had to work hard for pussy. That suited him, because the expectations between club members didn’t go beyond sex. It’d never bothered him to be with a woman one weekend and then see her with someone else the following weekend. Unlike Ronin, Knox had utilized the sex part of the sex club more than the kink aspect.

  He had to wonder if kink ran in the Black family. Shiori hadn’t indicated if she’d studied shibari and kinbaku, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she had, since she’d followed in Ronin’s footsteps and had become involved in martial arts.

  All this speculation was driving him nuts. He cracked open a beer and checked the time just as the doorbell rang.

  Finally.

  Knox didn’t rush to answer the door like he wanted to. When he opened the door, his gaze rested on her face briefly before movement in the street caught his attention. He glanced up to see the car service driver leaning against the right rear passenger door with his arms crossed. Like he was deciding whether he should leave Shiori here or remain parked at the curb. Without taking his eyes off the man, he kissed Shiori’s forehead. Then he said, “Send your driver away or I will.”

  “What?”

  “Your driver is eyeballing me like I’m shit on your shoe and he’d love to scrape me off.”

  “Not everything is a pissing contest, Knox.”

  “Tell that to him.”

  She sighed and turned around, waving him off. Then she faced Knox. “Happy now?”

  “Very happy that you’re here, She-Cat.” He pressed his lips to hers, proving it with a very thorough kiss. When he pulled back her eyes held a warning, but her lips curved into a smile.

  “Taking liberties off the bat, Ob-Knox-ious?”

  “Yep. Come in.” He stepped aside. “Let me help you with your coat.”

  Shiori turned, and he tugged the black trench down her arms. Beneath it she wore a light brown sweater, jeans, and riding boots.

  “You look great, but I’ll admit I’d hoped to see a corset and a short leather skirt under this trench coat.” He placed a kiss on the back of her neck. “Or better yet, nothing at all.”

  “Behave.” She faced him. That’s when he noticed she held a small wrapped package.

  “What’s that?”

  “A thank-you for inviting me into your home.” She handed it to him. “Just a little token. No big deal.”

  Knox unwrapped the plain paper and crumpled it in his fist. Inside the small frame was a watercolor painting, very Asian in style, of boats moored at a dock. The serenity of the scene was astounding. “Whoa. This is terrific. Where did you get it?”

  “It’s just something I had around.”

  “Thank you.” He propped it up on the mantel. “I’ll give you a quick house tour, and then we can eat. Leave your boots on because we’ll be going outside.”

  “I was surprised you live in a house and not in a condo or an apartment.”

  “After living in government-assisted housing projects growing up and then spending twelve years in the service, I was more than ready for my own place.” He gestured to the living room. “I knocked out a wall to open up the space.”

  “You did the remodel yourself?”

  “A lot of it. I’m a hands-on guy.”

  She ran her fingers up his arm. “I know that. I like that about you.”

  Sweet Jesus. These little glimpses into her were killing him. So when her hand dropped away, he didn’t let her off that easily. He slipped his fingers through hers. She didn’t protest when he towed her behind him as they headed to the kitchen. “I cook, but I didn’t need all the fancy appliances that go into most houses these days.”

  “I like this breakfast bar and eat-in kitchen,” she said.

  “I got rid of the formal dining room, and it opened up the space between here and the living room.” They cut down the wide hallway. “This is a three-bedroom house, but because I’m a single guy who doesn’t give a rip about decorating, I won’t show you the two rooms filled with crap.”

  She laughed.

  Knox opened the last door. “Here’s my bedroom.”

  Shiori let go of his hand and stepped into the room. Then she looked over her shoulder. “You and my brother must shop for beds in the same place, because this bed is as huge as his.”

  He shrugged. “I’m a big guy. A king-sized bed is fine, but having a custom-made bed built for a king is even better.”

  “Was this room this size originally?”

  “Nope. There was a rear porch that was pretty useless, so I expanded into that space. That allowed me to put in a master bathroom.” He gestured to the door to the right of the bed. “Take a look.”

  Her laughter echoed off the tile walls. “Totally a guy’s