Page 34 of Unraveled


  giving away our secrets, now, can I?”

  Her golden eyes turned solemn. “I’d never do that, Knox.”

  “I know.” Just as he lowered his mouth to hers, Rick blasted an air horn, startling them away from each other.

  His sisters laughed hysterically.

  Rick grinned. “I knew this would come in handy one day, but I never thought I’d have to use it on you, Knox.”

  “Bring it along to dinner, Dad,” Vivie suggested. “These two play kissy-face all the time.”

  Knox lightly whopped his sister on the butt. “Get in the truck, brat. And no, you don’t get to pick the music we listen to.”

  “Then I’m riding with Mom.”

  Shiori shook her head. “Sneaky move, Shihan.”

  He smiled. “It works every time.”

  * * *

  LATER, after they’d returned to his house and were curled up in his bed, Shiori said, “Thanks for today. I had a great time with your family.”

  “I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

  “Your mom is sweet. Now I know where you get it from.”

  He snorted. Sweet. Right.

  Just when he thought she might’ve drifted off, she said, “Why don’t you talk about your time in the army?”

  That’d come from out of left field. Knox shifted his arm and trailed his fingers up and down her spine. “Some of it I can’t talk about because I dealt with classified information.”

  “Ooh, international intrigue.”

  “Which is code for lots of paperwork,” he said dryly.

  “Where was your home base?”

  Sometimes he forgot her father had served in the armed forces and she’d lived on military bases. “Fort Benning, Georgia. Then my . . . unit, for lack of a better term, which was part of the thirteenth CSSB, was transferred to Fort Lewis/McChord in Washington just as I was getting out of the service.”

  “Were you ever in war zones?”

  “I got stationed in support outposts in combat zones, but never saw any combat. The luck of the draw, I guess. A couple of my buddies were deployed to those shitholes every other year.”

  “You sound like you’re sorry you didn’t see action.”

  “Not really. I mean, it is war. It’s ugly and brutal. There’s a dynamic of almost dying together, or seeing others die, that binds those guys in a way I can’t comprehend. So yeah, I took my share of crap about not being a ‘real’ soldier.”

  “Did it bother you?”

  Knox had to think about that for a minute. “Maybe at first. But the guys who lived through the horrors of war dealt with the aftereffects for years. After I out-processed, I moved on from being a grunt and haven’t looked back. It put things in perspective for me.”

  She made a purring sound when his fingertips brushed the curve of her ass. “Are you in contact with any of your fellow soldiers?”

  “I keep in touch with the two guys I worked most closely with during my last enlistment. They’re both working for telecommunications companies.”

  “And you’re Shihan at Black Arts.”

  “No doubt I have the better job.”

  “Were they surprised when you didn’t find a job like theirs?”

  “After I got out, I’d decided to live in Denver to be close to my family, but I couldn’t find a job. I ended up working as a security guard and moonlighted at Twisted part-time. That’s where I met Ronin. He offered me a temp position at the dojo as he tested my skills.” Then all that crap happened with Naomi and he moved up to a full-time position at Black Arts.

  “How did you keep up with jujitsu training when you were in the army?”

  “I was mostly stationed stateside, so I trained at the martial-arts studio in Fort Benning.”

  Shiori rolled onto her stomach and looked at him. “Your mom is really proud of your service.”

  Knox blushed. “If not for her putting me in jujitsu when I was a surly fifteen-year-old, I probably would’ve gone to jail.”

  “I doubt it. You’re too honorable for that.” She leaned over and rubbed her mouth across his nipple. “Let’s play a game, soldier.”

  “I guess we’re done talking.”

  “I’ve got a better idea on how to use my mouth.”

  He groaned. “Is this another one of your rewards?”

  “Yes.” An evil laugh drifted up as she scooted her body down the mattress. “Let’s see how long you can stand at attention as I polish your pole.” She settled between his thighs and licked his cock from root to tip. “You up for that?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  When she finally let him come, a full hour later, she’d wrung him out so completely he couldn’t even salute.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ENERGY in the entire dojo had been running high in the two weeks since Maddox had officially rebooted the Black Arts MMA program. Inside the training room “Mad” Maddox would give Sensei Black a run for his money with his intimidating persona. Except where Ronin was icy-eyed and expressed his disapproval with cool detachment, Maddox was hot-tempered and yelled at the top of his lungs if something met with his disapproval. On the second day of training, Knox feared Deacon and Maddox might actually kill each other. But they’d figured out a way to work together.

  Fisher and Ito fit right in, and they couldn’t say enough good things about the new trainer. While Knox was relieved things were off to a great start, his fear that his skills weren’t needed in the MMA program had proven true. Maddox asked his opinions on everything—except training. So Knox devoted his time to running Black Arts and working with Blue and Katie on the rescheduled smoker in two weeks.

  They’d secured a new sponsor, and that asswipe Steve Atwood had agreed to provide two fighters for the bout. Knox wished Ronin were here so they could both see the look on Steve’s face when the Black Arts fighters made a clean sweep of the fight card on fight night.

  But Knox’s great mood vanished the instant he walked into the Black Arts office and saw the man sitting on the edge of Shiori’s desk. Sitting way, way too close to Knox’s woman for his comfort.

  He affixed his “fight face” in place before he moved in behind Shiori. That’s when he noticed who the asshole was.

  Max Stanislovsky.

  One of the richest men in Denver. Ronin’s sometime pal, sometime nemesis. A man with ties to gambling, prostitution, nightclubs, sex clubs, real estate, and construction crews.

  Knox didn’t doubt the rumors about Max being a key player in the Russian mob. All the Cold War had done was expunge some of the undesirables from Russia, and they had set up shop in the United States. And unlucky for Coloradans, the population and the climate was reminiscent of Russia, so many of them flocked to the Centennial State.

  Ivan had some kind of love-hate relationship going on with his father, but in this case the apple had fallen far from the tree. Ivan was a good guy, a hard worker, and had the potential to do well as a pro MMA fighter, especially now that Maddox Byerly had signed on to train him.

  Knox realized he’d been glaring at Stanislovsky and attempted to play it cool. “Max. What brings you to Black Arts? I’m sure you know Ronin is out of the country.”

  Max’s eyes narrowed at Knox’s use of his first name. Before when he’d dealt with Max, he’d called him Mr. Stanislovsky. But that was before Ronin had left him in charge.

  “Yes, I was telling Ronin’s lovely sister about my visits to Japan. It’s been a few years, but I’ve always found Japanese women so very . . . intriguing.”

  “We’re like women everywhere else, Max. We’re overloaded with work and family.”

  Max leaned closer. “Your grandfather should not have put you in such a position. Working so much . . . not good for anyone. Especially not a beautiful woman like you. You should be pampered. Put on the pedestal you so clearly deserve.”

  Knox snorted. “That lifestyle would set Shiori on a murderous path. Her contributions to
Okada have been enormous over the years. So I’d say her grandfather knew exactly what he was doing by putting her in a position of authority and not on a pedestal.”

  Shiori’s shoulders stiffened.

  What? He wasn’t allowed to brag on her? Bullshit.

  “Is the penthouse to your liking?” Max asked, ignoring Knox completely.

  “Yes. The view is incredible and it’s a quiet building.”

  Max Stanislovsky had helped Shiori choose a place to live? Why was this the first he’d heard of it?

  Max sighed dramatically. “I’ll admit sadness that Ronin did not approach me about fulfilling your needs. But Ivan proved himself capable, so all is not lost.”

  “Speaking of Ivan . . . is that why you’re here?”

  Max’s gaze flicked over to him. “I heard about impressive new trainer. I wanted to meet man who will be spending time with my son.”

  “Where are your leg-breakers, Max? I never see you without your bodyguards.”

  That’s when Knox figured out why Max had shown up. He knew Ronin was out of the picture, so it was a free pass to schmooze Shiori in the office while one of his associates cornered Maddox in the training room and offered Maddox an obscene amount of money to become Ivan’s personal trainer.

  Max shrugged. “They are around.”

  Shiori turned her head and looked at Knox at the same time that Maddox stormed into the office with a sheaf of papers in his hand. “What the fuck is this?”

  Bingo. He’d called it.

  Knox pointed to Max. “Ask him. This is Ivan’s father, Max Stanislovsky.”

  Maddox got right in Max’s face. “Let’s get one thing straight. I am not for sale. For any amount of money. And this?”—he shook the papers in the air—“is ridiculous. Obviously you have more fucking money than you have sense.”

  “I only want best for my boy.”

  “Your boy is a twenty-three-year-old man.”

  “He good fighter, no?”

  “Yes. He’s got a lot of potential. I will work him to get to the next level because he has the drive to succeed. He listens. He works hard. And that has nothing to do with you.” Maddox ripped the contract in half. “So if I ever see you or any of your goons in my training room again? I’ll cut Ivan loose. Understood?”

  “Yes. I apologize for offending you,” Max said smoothly.

  “Does Ivan know you’re here?”

  Max sighed again. “No. He will make me pay for this little visit. He stubborn, independent man. Makes me proud, but makes me crazy too.”

  Maddox walked back to the door. “I mean it. I even get a whiff of that smelly-ass cologne you’re wearing around here, and your son is done. Done.”

  Silence echoed in the room like the aftermath of a shotgun blast.

  Max grinned. “I like that one. You did good.”

  Un-fucking-real.

  Then Max took Shiori’s hand. “When your brother returns and you have free time, I have villa in Italy. It is beautiful this time of year.”

  Knox rolled Shiori’s chair away from Max, forcing him to release her. “That is thoughtful of you, Max. Shiori and I have been talking about getting away somewhere just the two of us. Offering us your villa is appreciated.”

  Max cocked his head. He looked from Shiori to Knox and back to Shiori. “You and big Viking guy are together?”

  “Yes.”

  “Such a pity, milaya moya.”

  When it looked like Max was reaching for Shiori after calling her some Russian endearment, Knox warned, “Don’t touch her again.”

  Max lifted a brow. “Not wise to threaten me.”

  “Not wise to put your hand on a woman who is spoken for. If the situation were reversed, how would you react?”

  “I start breaking legs.”

  “I’m less civilized.” He flashed his teeth. “I’d break your face.”

  Max shook his head. “So much violence in building. Might be contagious. Time for me to go.”

  And he left the room with a flourish, his long jacket flapping like bat wings.

  Shiori spoke first. “This might sound weird, but did that remind you of—”

  “Dracula? Yeah.”

  “Poor Ivan.”

  “I’m sure Daddy’s millions take the sting out of humiliation.” As soon as he’d said it, he wished he hadn’t.

  His beloved gave him a cool once-over. “If you’re done swinging your big dick around, we actually have some work to do.”

  Knox boxed her in. “Let. Me. Make. This. Clear. He had his fucking hand on you. He’s goddamn lucky I didn’t break it off and shove it up his ass.”

  “Knox—”

  “Don’t.” He moved in until they were almost nose to nose. “No man gets to touch you. Especially not a rich asshole who acts like it’s his fucking right. The only man who has that right is me. And I will fuck up any man—I don’t give a shit who he is—for even thinking he can freely touch what’s mine.”

  “You done?” she asked coolly.

  “I don’t know. Is there anything else I need to clarify for you, Mistress, before I take my big swinging dick out of here and punch the fuck outta the heavy bag?”

  Shiori framed his face in her hands. “You’ve made your point.”

  “Good.”

  “Can we kiss and make up now?”

  He crushed her lips beneath his, intending to prove his ownership of her with a brutal kiss. But she wouldn’t allow it. She gave him tenderness instead. Letting her fingers stroke his cheeks and the line between his eyebrows. There was plenty of passion between them, but her forcing him to keep it contained had a staggering effect. It showed her deep understanding of him. Her acceptance of this side of him. And he understood that he’d needed her to take control because he had none.

  She eased back on the kiss, but her hands remained on his face. “Better?”

  He could only nod. Because he had the overwhelming urge to shout out his love for her.

  “Now go punch something. I’ll put that big swinging dick of yours to good use later.”

  * * *

  THE following Friday night Knox draped his arm across the back of Shiori’s chair and surveyed the group that’d overtaken the corner booth at Diesel. It’d been a hellish week at Black Arts. As they counted down the days to the smoker, he decided everyone deserved to cut loose, if only for a few hours.

  Even Maddox had accepted the drink invite. Deacon and Gil were on the far end of the booth, with Maddox in the middle, Fee sitting between him and Katie. Blue and Terrel were providing security for some teen concert, so they’d skipped out, as had Fisher, who had to be on the job early. Knox preferred to keep things informal, so he wondered how the dynamic would change when Ronin returned.

  “I wish we could convince these guys to go someplace other than Diesel for a beer,” Fee said to Shiori. “Before you and Knox started sneaking around, we had a great time at Jackson’s.”

  “We weren’t sneaking around that long before we let everyone know we were involved,” Knox said, leaning in to swipe one of Shiori’s fries.

  “And some of us figured it out,” Katie said smugly.

  “How did you think you knew something was going on?” Shiori asked.

  “I saw you two the night of Ivan’s party at Fresh. When you