Unraveled

by Lorelei James

  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.

  Molly selected a pair of leopard-print skinny jeans and a black leather halter top that accentuated the breasts she took such great pains to hide.

  But since conservative Molly had thrown caution to the wind, so did Fee. She chose a pair of electric-blue capris and paired it with a silk top hand-painted with vibrantly hued flowers. With butterfly sleeves and a high-necked collar, the shirt looked demure in the front, but it essentially had no back.

  Katie called her ensemble “fet life meets whorehouse”—skintight red leather pants and a red-and-black-striped bustier with black lace edging.

  Shiori’s look was old-school glam—a black and gold sequined miniskirt and a gold lamé tank top with a black blouse. She switched out her Fendi bag with her party purse, which was a small black pouch that held her ID, credit card, and phone. The chain circled her waist looking like a piece of jewelry and the pouch rested at her hip.

  “Man, I want one of those,” Molly said. “Where’d you get it? Wait—don’t tell me. Japan.”

  “Lucky for you, I know where to get more.” Her phone buzzed. She scrolled to the text message. “The car is here, Katie. What’s the gate code to get in?”

  “Nine four nine seven.”

  She texted that and slipped her phone into her pouch.

  “Let’s hit it, ladies.”

  Shiori grabbed her shopping bags and gym bag. She would leave them in the limo until it returned to take her home.

  Next they all piled into the limo. Everyone voiced disappointment there wasn’t a bar, but Shiori figured they’d had enough to drink for a while.

  A very tipsy Molly leaned her head on Shiori’s shoulder. “This is so much fun. We should do this every weekend.”

  “I don’t know if my liver could take it,” Fee joked.

  “So what’s the plan at the club?” Katie asked. “Are we ditching the ‘if we arrive together, we leave together’ rule?”

  “Absolutely. If I get a chance to get me some . . . suckers, I’m gone,” Fee said. “Although I don’t think I’ll find a guy who trips my trigger at a fetish club.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. What if you see a guy who has an obsession with Thor? If he’s built like that and dresses like that—”

  “Then chances are he’s gay,” Shiori and Molly finished together on a laugh.

  That started the whole gay, not-gay conversation, followed by what made a man sexy.

  “Swagger,” Molly said. “If he owns his sexuality, then you know he’d own you in bed.”

  Shiori bit her lip against saying, But what if I want to own him?

  “I think fierceness is hot,” Fee said. “He wants you, he’ll have you, and then he’ll do everything he can to protect you.”

  Now, that description fit Knox perfectly.

  “What about you, Katie?” Molly asked. “You haven’t given us your usual laundry list of what’s sexy.”

  “Tenderness,” she said softly. “A man who isn’t afraid to show you gentleness and sweetness as well as passion.”

  Okay. She certainly hadn’t expected that from Katie. And she agreed with her, even when that quality was as rare as black pearls. But . . . she had witnessed that sweetness in Knox.

  “Your turn, Shi. What’s your definition of sexy?”

  “A man who’s not threatened by me calling the shots in the bedroom.”

  They burst into laughter. Which forced her to play it off as a joke.

  “Seriously. What’s sexy in a man?” Katie demanded.

  “Since you laughed at my other one, I’m going with chest hair and a big cock.”

  The limo stopped just as she finished speaking.

  Perfect timing.

  “We’re here!” Katie was so excited she flung open the door and hopped out.

  Shiori left instructions with the driver before she joined her friends in line.

  Katie had already draped herself over Ivan’s back and was whispering something in his ear that made him grin.

  When they approached Katie and Ivan, Katie
announced, “This little soiree is in honor of Ivan’s birthday!”

  “Really? Happy birthday!” Molly said.

  “Thanks.” He handed them each a lanyard. “Drinks on the house. Table is set up in the VIP section.”

  “When are you done working so you can party with us?” Katie asked.

  “Soon.”

  “I’m holding you to that.” Katie kissed him square on the mouth. “Does this club have a spanking station? Because I’m thinking you need a few whacks on the butt, birthday boy. But you won’t need one to grow on; since I’m sure you’re big in all the right places.”

  Shiori looked over at Fee and Molly, who wore the same WTF? looks.

  Ivan took it in stride. “Have fun, ladies, and I’ll be in when I can.”

  As they entered, Fee and Molly announced they wanted to look around, so they split off.

  Katie saw the balloon at the VIP table and laughed. “I wonder whose idea that was.” She peered at the writing on the tape. “It’s in Russian. It’d be hilarious if Ivan’s badass father set up a birthday party in a fetish club for his son.”

  The cocktail waitress took their orders once they were seated. Shiori was done drinking for the night, so she’d make this drink last.

  “Why do I get the feeling this type of club isn’t as shocking to you as it is to Fee and Molly?” Katie asked.

  “I’ve been to places like this in Tokyo and Germany. And I’ll point that question right back at you.”

  “I dabbled in Goth culture,” Katie admitted. “We were always looking for weird and edgy, so we ended up at some pretty strange places.”

  “I can’t picture you in Goth makeup and wearing all-black clothes.”

  She smiled. “That’s eventually what pulled me out of it. I wanted to wear pink and be happy once in a while.”

  Fee and Molly joined them.

  “What kinky things did you see that you wanted to try?” Katie asked them.

  “There’s more stuff I’d never try than anything that looked appealing,” Fee said. “I mean I don’t find it disgusting, but I just don’t get it either.”

  “For instance?” Shiori asked.

  “Well, there is a spanking station. And I can’t figure out if those people want to be spanked because they weren’t spanked as a kid, or if they were spanked and they loved it so much they want to keep experiencing it.”

  “None of the guys you’ve been with has ever smacked your ass during sex or when you’re messing around?” Katie asked Fee.

  Fee shook her head. “I’d probably react instinctively and dislocate his arm.” She looked at Molly. “What about you, Miss Corn-Fed Nebraska?”

  “Have I ever gotten a full-blown ass paddling before sex? No. But besides my random bad-boy hookups here and there, the guys I’ve dated have been tame. Would I try it? Yep. I’ve read some really hot spanking stories.” She volleyed the question back to Katie. “What about you?”

  “This older guy I had a brief fling with liked spanking me. But he was a great dirty talker too, so I’m not sure which made me hotter.”

  Then they all three looked at Shiori.

  “What?”

  “You’re being quiet, so you’re holding back. Spill it,” Molly demanded.

  Shiori fiddled with the straw in her drink. “I’ll tell you if you promise not to laugh.”

  “Omigod, you’ve got a spanking fetish,” Katie exclaimed.

  “Not a fetish. I’m just really good at it.”

  “How are you good at it?” Fee asked.

  How honest could she be? She definitely couldn’t lie and say getting whopped on the ass with a board was part of jujitsu conditioning, because Fee would call bullshit on that. But she couldn’t admit she was a Domme either. She settled for a semi-true story. “My ex and I went to some of the kink clubs in Tokyo. There was a spanking station and he wanted to spank me, so I said yes—as long as I got to spank him too. So he leveled five really wimpy whacks with a paddle. It did nothing for me. When my turn rolled around, I put a lot of muscle into it. He threw a hissy fit for me taking it too far, hurting and embarrassing him. Then he took off and left me at this club.”

  “What a jackass.”

  “But another guy asked if I’d spank him hard like that. So I did. I ended up with a line of people who wanted me to redden their asses, which took the sting out of my dickhead husband bailing on me.”

  Three sets of eyes scrutinized her.

  Then Katie leaned closer for a fist bump. “You are the motherfucking shit. But you know I’m gonna hafta ask you to prove it.”

  Fee and Molly nodded agreement.

  “What? How am I supposed to do that?”

  Katie smirked. “You leave that part to me. You warm up your spanking arm. Because some lucky bastard is getting his ass smacked by you tonight.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  “I don’t wanna go to some stupid fetish club,” Deacon complained. “Why can’t we just stay here and drink?”

  “Suck it up. Ivan asked us, and it’ll be a good chance to get to know him better. We need solid footing with the fighters before Maddox shows up,” Knox told him.

  “And rips everything to fucking shreds. You think Maddox gives a fuck if we bond? No. It makes his job easier if we don’t get along.” Deacon smirked. “Don’t be surprised if he holds you and Shiori up as an example of how mutual animosity can work.”

  “Fuck off.” Their hostility had been supplanted by sexual heat. Not that anyone had noticed the difference.

  Maybe because there isn’t a difference.

  They’d grappled as usual. Bickered, although not as much. In the past four days Shiori touched him at random times. Just a soft brush of her hand on his neck or shoulder. If he needed to tell her something he spoke directly in her ear, knowing how it affected her.

  But they hadn’t been alone together since the night at his place. He’d half hoped they’d spend tonight together, but he hadn’t heard from her all day. Being a new sub, he wasn’t sure on protocol; if he could call her first or if he was supposed to wait for her summons.

  You sure this is what you want? Waiting on her to decide if she’ll deign to see you?

  “Knox?”

  He glanced up to see Deacon scowling at him. “What?”

  “Who else we waiting on?”

  “Blue and Fisher.”

  Deacon raised his eyebrows. “Fisher? He never goes out with us.” He paused. “Ah, hell, does he have some kind of fetish I don’t wanna know about?”

  “No clue. I just know he and Ivan have gotten tight.”

  Blue and Fisher walked into Diesel together. Blue, as usual, wore a dour look that warned people not to cross him. Or even speak to him. Fisher, on the other hand, was smiling for a change. He’d joined Black Arts as a boxing trainer for the MMA program and had enrolled in classes two years ago, mostly to learn defensive moves in the ring. While boxers did okay in MMA matches, there was a