reason it was called mixed martial arts and not mixed boxing styles.
“Fisher, my man. You’re gracing us with your presence tonight?”
Fisher and Deacon did some hand-slapping, fist-bumping, half-man-hug thing. “I’ve been working most Saturdays, and by the time I knock off at dark, I’m too damn tired to do anything. But since I just pushed paperwork today, I thought what the hell. I’ll see if I can find a chick who has a fetish for my cock tonight.”
Knox laughed. “I’ve never been to this club, but I’ve heard it’s more an amateur ‘see and be seen’ wearing weird clothes than a place to explore real fetishes.”
“I went one other time with Ivan, and there are some kinky things going on.”
“Like what?” Fisher asked.
“Now, why would I spoil the surprise, eh?” Blue said.
“Who’s driving?” Deacon asked.
“I’ll drive if you don’t mind sitting on construction plans and tools in my truck.”
Blue took shotgun. Knox and Deacon climbed in the back of the truck’s cab. Deacon and Fisher talked about Fisher’s construction business. Blue chimed in. Knox stared out the window and checked his phone to see if Shiori had messaged him.
Talk about pussy whipped. And you don’t even know if her pussy is worth it.
After they pulled onto the freeway, Deacon poked him on the arm. “What?”
“You’ve been off all week. Did you go to Twisted like I told you?”
“Yeah.”
“You get out of your rut?”
Knox withheld a grin. “Like you wouldn’t imagine.”
“You wishing you’d gone there tonight instead?”
“Nah.” Even if Shiori were there, they’d have to pretend to be coworkers. It sucked they couldn’t be out anywhere. “What about you, D? What fetish you hoping to see?”
“Not a fetish guy. I don’t care what the outside wrapping looks like. I wanna see tits and ass.”
The club was in a sketchy part of Denver. The upside was plenty of free parking. The place looked packed, from what Knox could see as they walked up the sidewalk.
Ivan checked IDs at the door. A beefy ex-football player gave clubgoers the evil eye as they passed through the door. Ivan grinned when he noticed them approaching.
“Looking snappy in that suit,” Deacon drawled. Another round of MMA hand jive and man hugs followed.
“Thanks for coming. My father gave me his VIP table tonight.” He handed out laminated cards. “Flash this at the guard by the balcony.”
“Which table we looking for?”
Ivan groaned. “It’s the one with the birthday balloon taped to it.”
“Your dad is making you work on your birthday?” Fisher asked.
“Funny man, my father. Tells me birthdays are just another day, and celebrations are for girls. But he taped a fucking balloon on the table, and I think there might be cake later.”
“As long as there’s a naked chick jumping out of said cake.”
Knox looked at Deacon. “What is wrong with you?”
“What? It’s a fetish club. That ain’t outta the realm of possibilities. I could develop a fetish for licking frosting off pound cake, if you know what I mean.”
Ivan said, “I’ve gotta do one thing before I can join you guys.”
Music blasted inside the warehouse. A multilevel dance floor started in the center of the room. Four bars were spread out, one on each side. A lighted staircase led to the second floor. He looked around as they made their way into the main room. Lots of leather. Lots of chains. Lots of piercings and tats on the partiers. So far he hadn’t seen anyone on a leash like at Twisted.
Blue pointed to the staircase. “Fetish clothing and demonstrations are up here.”
“Where’s the VIP section?” Fisher asked.
“Upstairs, on the other end. If we walk through the fetish area, we’ll hit it.”
Fisher, Blue, and Knox started toward the stairs. Deacon hung back.
“You staying down here on the dance floor to get your groove thang on?”
“Jesus. You’re an old fucker. Who even says ‘groove thang’ anymore? I thought I saw someone I know. I’ll catch up with you guys.”
At the top of the stairs were warning signs that the demonstrations were given by trained professionals and no one should attempt to duplicate the scenes without guidance from an experienced professional.
Yeah, like that’d keep people like these, who live on the fringe, from experimenting.
Booths that sold fetish items were lined against the wall. A long display table had cuffs and spiked collars, jewelry, but no nipple clamps. His first thought was that he’d love to see Shiori wearing those, a golden chain between her tits weighted with jewels.
Fisher tapped him on the arm. “Check that out.”
In the next booth was a display of latex and rubber clothes. They carried more colors than just the standard black. A woman in a catsuit was demonstrating how to put on a latex mask that only had one small mouth opening. The second she put it over her face, Knox had to look away. Just thinking about being so covered up and only able to suck air through a tiny hole made his lungs seize up. At Twisted he’d always declined to monitor the rooms where breath play was involved. He heard that rasping wheeze for breath and found himself clawing at his own throat.
He wandered to the next booth, which had rows of floggers, whips, paddles.
“Anything you’d like to try out?” asked a young woman who looked far too adolescent to be shilling punishment items.
“Just looking.”
Then Knox saw her exchange an eye roll with the scruffy punk beside her that plainly said, “This guy is old.”
His pride surfaced. “You know, why don’t you hand me that nine-inch single tail.”
She looked confused. “All of our whips are longer than nine inches—”
“The handle size is nine inches.” He leaned over and pulled it off the pegboard. Then he ran his hand down the whip, trying to find the balance. “I’d like this more if the handle weren’t braided. Chances are high in a long session I’d end up with blisters.” He flashed his teeth. “And if wanted pain, I’d be on the receiving end of the whip instead of the giving end.” He replaced it on the board and moved on, unable to hide his smirk.
“Great bluff,” Fisher said. “I almost believed you were some kind of S and M guy.”
Jesus. He’d forgotten that Blue and Fisher weren’t aware of that part of his life.
The last two booths on this side didn’t interest him—foot-fetish stuff and role-playing costumes. He turned to ask Blue and Fisher if they were ready to hit the VIP section, when he saw a flash of black.
Weird. That looked the way Shiori’s hair moved when she was doing katas with her hair down. Then he saw it again.
He cut through the crowd until he could see what was going on.
Goddammit. It was her. She had some guy bent over a spanking bench and was whacking his ass with a long paddle. The guy had pulled his jeans down, keeping his butt covered in plaid boxers.
He heard the chant, “Ten more, ten more,” and saw Katie, Molly, and Fee as the instigators surrounding her. They were laughing and hanging on one another like they were really drunk.
His focus zoomed back to Shiori. What the fuck was she doing?
After two really hard blows, Knox stepped in and snagged her forearm mid-strike. “Enough. You’re done.”
“Why’d you stop?” As soon as the guy on the spanking bench looked up at her with worshipful eyes, Knox lost it. No one got to look at his Mistress like that except him. No one.
Before Shiori bent down to talk to the guy, Knox was crouching next to him, obstructing her from his line of sight. “Look at me,” he demanded.
The guy’s pleasure-glazed eyes tried to find focus. “What?”
“Pull your pants up and get the fuck out of here.”
“B
ut . . . she—”
“Is too fucking good for you. And if you look at her like that again, I will beat the fuck out of you.”
His pulse had shot through the roof, and he could feel his anger heating his skin.
“Sorry, man. We were just playing around.”
“Not with her. Never with her. Got it?”
He nodded and pushed to his feet, yanking up his pants as he scurried away.
Knox counted to ten before he stood. Then he faced down the woman who’d probably beat the fuck out of him for what he’d just done.
Shiori was studying him coolly. “What are you doing here?”
The woman defined beautiful, but she wouldn’t appreciate the compliment now. “Ivan invited us.” He might as well just face this head-on. He crowded her, blocking her from her friends’ view and out of their earshot. “What the hell were you doing whaling on that guy?”
“The people selling this shit”—she shook the paddle in Knox’s face—“don’t even know how to use it. So I said I’d show them.”
“Did you pick him or did he volunteer?”
“He volunteered. And you don’t get to be pissy about this.”
“The fuck I don’t. You aren’t his Mistress; you’re mine. And I already told you I don’t goddamn share what’s mine.”
Shiori blinked. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“That doesn’t make it all right.”
Then Katie wormed her way between them. “Can you guys cut the arguing for one night? We’re here having some fun, doing some kinky stuff. And, Knox, I don’t think anyone cares that Shiori is an instructor at Black Arts, if you’re worried how that looks.”
Katie could go right on thinking that was his issue. “She represents us wherever she goes.”
“So she spanked a hipster in public—most people would’ve let her go on beating him longer. It was all in good fun. No harm, no foul. No one got hurt, right?”
Knox kept his gaze affixed to Shiori’s.
“Truce for tonight?” Katie pleaded. “Let’s drink and celebrate Ivan’s birthday.”
“How long have you four been celebrating?” Knox asked.
“All damn day.” Katie nudged him. “You need to catch up.”
Katie was a fun drunk, but a determined one, and he knew better than to outwardly circumvent her. “Lead the way.”
They followed single file behind her. Everyone had filled in around the table marked with the single balloon. Molly sat between Fisher and Deacon. Blue and Fee were laughing in the corner. Katie plopped right on Ivan’s lap. Two chairs were left, and Knox pulled out one for Shiori automatically. She sat with a murmured, “Thanks.”
“Ivan needs to do a birthday shot,” Katie said. “So what do you want, birthday boy?”
Ivan whispered something that sent Katie into a fit of giggles. “Such a dirty mind. You definitely should get spanked for that.” She squinted at Shiori. “You oughta dish out Ivan’s birthday spankings since you were so good with that paddle.”
“Yeah, how did you manage to hit that guy on the butt in the same spot every time?” Molly asked.
“Yeah, and that was after you’d been drinking,” Fee said.
Deacon quirked an eyebrow at Knox.
Knox manufactured a blank look.
Shiori shrugged. “Accuracy is accuracy whether in martial arts or other activities.”
“I hear ya.” Molly nudged Fisher. “My accuracy has improved since Fisher has taken me on.”
“What do you mean ‘taken you on’?” Deacon asked in a combative tone.
“I’m giving Molly private boxing lessons,” Fisher said.
“Whose idea was that?”
“Mine,” Molly said. “So back off.”
“The hell I will.” Deacon leaned back and glared at Fisher. “Since when is it all right to poach another instructor’s student?”
“What? Whoa. I didn’t know—”
“That’s because there’s nothing to know,” Molly told Fisher. “I’m in his kickboxing classes. That’s it. If I want to hire you for private lessons, that’s my business.”
“Is it, Shihan?” Deacon demanded.
Knox looked at all the players and held up his hands. “I’m out of this one.”
The birthday shots arrived.
Forcing himself to be jovial, he knocked back the vodka. But it seemed he was the only one projecting a happy face.
Blue was flat-out growling in the corner, watching Katie’s exuberance over Ivan’s birthday. Whenever Katie looked at Blue, she made a lewd comment. But Blue refused to take the bait.
Fisher and Fee were taking advantage of the open bar. So far they’d downed Titty Twister shots, Blow Job shots, and were flirting as they waited for the next round.
Katie’s good humor disappeared when the cocktail waitress struck up a conversation with Blue—and Blue couldn’t tear his eyes away from the woman’s gigantic breasts.
Molly and Deacon went from ignoring each other to getting right in each other’s faces as they whispered and argued.
And Shiori wouldn’t even look at him.
Enough.
Knox stood to make his escape. “I’m gonna walk around for a few minutes.”
As expected, no one noticed his departure.
But a minute later, after he’d nearly cleared the hallway, a hand slipped through his. He glanced down at Shiori.
“Nice try, leaving me there with the horny, drunk, and bickering bunch.”
He laughed.
Shiori moved in until they were chest-to-chest. “I love your laugh. That’s the first time I’ve heard it this week.”
“Is that your way of saying you missed me?”
“Yes.”
“So prove it.”
Immediately, she pulled him into an alcove. Then her hands were on his neck and she brought his mouth to hers and proceeded to kiss him until his lungs were filled with her scent and her taste filled his mouth.
The kiss didn’t slow. It just kept getting hotter.
He forced himself to put the brakes on. “Damn, woman. What you do to me with just a kiss.”
“Need to make an adjustment in your jeans before we go back?” she said with a cocky smirk.
“Yeah.” He swept her hair over her shoulder. “What if I said I didn’t want to go back?”
“They wouldn’t miss us.”
“Then let’s go look around.”
“We have to pretend we’re not enjoying walking around together,” she warned him.
“I’ll send you dirty looks once in a while.”
“As long as you’re secretly thinking dirty thoughts.”
“So dirty I’m afraid my eyes will turn brown.”
She laughed. “Come on.”
Off the main floor was another room with more shops. These booths had demonstrations. The vendor selling candles was doing a wax-play demo. Same with the violet wand vendor. A small crowd had gathered in the back, so they moved in that direction to see what was going on.