“I didn’t. I just hoped you would be after trying to get in touch with you since Friday morning.”
“This is not the place for the discussion we need to have. You know that. And I don’t appreciate you showing up at Twisted expecting me to fall in line to deal with a problem that has nothing to do with our intimate relationship.”
“You really think I’d do that? Try to enforce the Domme-sub rules here between us now?”
“Why else would you be here and not sitting on my front porch?”
“Because I tried that for a few hours and you didn’t come home.”
Knox could see the bruises on her face even beneath the mask, and his mind’s eye quickly imagined how the rest of her body was ravaged—and that pissed him the fuck off.
“How bad?” he gritted out.
Shiori didn’t play coy. “Bad. No TKO. But after the first round, I knew I didn’t stand a chance against her.” Her haunted eyes searched his. “I knew you were right.”
“Jesus, Shiori.” Then he remembered where they were. “What am I supposed to do with that admission now? It fucking kills me that you got into the ring with her.”
Her words tumbled out in a rush of emotion. “I’m cocky, and it bit me in the ass. I proved what a know-it-all bitch I can be. I accused you of using our personal relationship to keep me from stepping in the ring with her even when you tried to convince me it wasn’t personal. I’m stubborn. And it didn’t help matters that I was jealous and I took the chance to beat the piss out of a woman you used to fuck. So I was the one who used our relationship as a reason to defy you. And in doing so I realized—too late—that I’d undermined you in the worst way possible.” She took a second to breathe. “I’m sorry. It’s not enough, and it’s probably too late, but you need to know that I didn’t walk away Thursday night unscathed. And my hurt had nothing to do with the pain Mia inflicted on me.”
They stared at each other.
“Where do we go from here?” she asked.
There was the opening to ask the question that’d been weighing on him. “What’s your favorite part of being a Domme?”
She blinked at him, startled at the change in subject. “What?”
“Answer the question. What’s your favorite part of being a Domme?”
“Not my favorite part of being your Domme?”
He shook his head.
As she struggled to answer, Knox felt compelled to point out, “It’s not sex, since you haven’t fucked all the subs you’ve been with.”
“All the subs makes it sound like I’ve had a cast of thousands,” she murmured. “I could answer this better if you gave me some options, because I’m drawing a blank.”
“You need power in the bedroom. Why? At Okada you were one of the top ten executives. It wasn’t like you were a whipping boy who needed another outlet to reclaim power. You already had it.”
She looked down at her hands. “I was the whipping boy in my marriage. I had to settle for the little he gave me. So my favorite part of being a Domme is getting what I want for a change.”
“What do you want?”
When her gaze met his, the raw emotion in her eyes robbed him of air. “Affection.”
He couldn’t speak.
“Do you know what it’s like to be starved for a lover’s touch? I do. I craved the caress of a man’s hand on my skin. I wanted kisses, touches, a connection of the intimate kind because every guy I’d been with had denied me that basic pleasure.” She closed her eyes. “Why do you think I didn’t have sex with my previous submissives? Because when I was in charge, I could demand they give me what I’d been deprived of. I wanted that affection even if I had to force it. I needed it so much more than another emotionless fuck.”
Sweet baby Jesus. How had he not seen this? From the very first time they’d become intimate, Shiori had insisted some part of his body stay in constant contact with hers. He’d considered it a cute quirk, not a deep-seated need. To realize she’d been denied that made him ache for her.
“I’ve never told anyone that.” Her voice broke. “The poor little rich girl who has to command a man into giving her simple human affection.” She glanced up. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Please tell me what I can do to fix this between us.”
How about you humiliate yourself like you humiliated me?
He’d never demand that of her, but that’s what his male ego wanted, because that’s how she’d handle it. Like when she used the switch on him for acting like one.
“Should I apologize to everyone at Black Arts for questioning your authority? I will. But after I got the beat-down in the ring, I’m the one who looks like the fool and the tool. Not you.”
When he loomed over her, the scent of her skin drifted into his lungs as a potent lure. Lust grabbed him by the balls and distracted him.
Before he crafted a response, Shiori dropped to her knees into the submissive pose. She tore off her mask and let it fall to the floor.
Shocked, he just stared at her as she lowered her body even more, in a traditional dogeza bow, her forehead and arms to the floor, the Japanese way of showing the highest level of respect from the most humble position.
He’d sensed their intense conversation had drawn interest from the club members. But after Mistress B genuflected at his feet, the room had gone quiet.
Knox’s heart raced. Sweat broke out on his brow. His eyes burned. And everything that had been tight and angry inside him . . . loosened.
Shiori sat up and snaked her hand around his calf, pressing her face against his knee. Her whispered, “Please forgive me,” was reverent and quiet enough that he doubted anyone else heard her.
But he’d heard her, and that was all that mattered.
In that moment Knox finally understood what he meant to her. And he couldn’t deny what she meant to him. He lowered into a crouch and cradled her face in his hands, wiping away her tears. “My Mistress should never sit at my feet. I should always sit at yours.” He kissed her softly, chastely, showing them both the power in their connection. “You’re forgiven,” he murmured against her lips.
With innate grace, she returned to a standing position. Keeping one hand on his shoulder, she helped him up.
Once he was upright, she slid her hands around his neck. The rush of emotion arcing between them had him swaying into her. “Can we please get out of here now?”
“Yes.”
Applause broke out around them, and he felt his face flame—not from embarrassment that he’d been caught on his knees, but because too many people had witnessed their intimate moment.
Knox held his head high when his Mistress led him out of the club.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SHIORI didn’t speak on the drive to Knox’s house. But she did clasp his right hand in both of hers and run her fingers up and down his forearm until he said, “Baby, I need that hand to drive for a minute.”
“Okay.”
He kissed her knuckles. “But then you can have it back. I promise.”
Rain started to pour down. After Knox parked in front of the garage, he came around and helped her out of his truck. He didn’t let go of her hand until they were in the house.
Before he turned on any lights, he pulled her into his arms, holding her so tightly her face was smashed against his chest.
She didn’t mind. During the long night she’d spent pacing alone, she worried she’d never feel these strong arms around her again.
He brushed the hair from her damp face—when had she started crying?—and rested his hands on her cheeks. Knox stared into her eyes for so long she wondered what he was looking for. Then he pressed his mouth to hers just once.
She had an overwhelming sense of panic. Was this how he’d punish her? Withhold his affection? Because that would kill her.
“Shiori. Breathe.”
“Don’t . . .” She couldn’t get the words out; she didn’t have enough air.
&nbs
p; Knox bent down until they were eye to eye. “I’m here. Right here. Breathe with me.”
She inhaled and started to cough.
He gathered her in his arms again. “Breathe in. Slow and steady. You tell me that my scent calms you. Bury your nose in my armpit if it’ll help—but, kitten, I wouldn’t recommend that.”
She managed a laugh, but it came out sounding like a sob.
That’s when he enveloped her in his affection. Kisses on the top of her head. Hands caressing and rubbing her back and her arms.
Shiori did use the scent of his skin as a calming form of aromatherapy.
He tipped her face back and peered into her eyes again. “Better?”
“A little.”
“I know we need to talk. But it’s late and I am whupped. And I see dark circles under your eyes too, so I suspect you haven’t been sleeping either.”
“Part of the dark circle on this side is actually a bruise.” Immediately after she said it she wished she hadn’t.
“I know. But we can talk about that when we both have clear heads.”
“All right.”
Knox placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. Then he clasped her hand in his and led her to his bedroom. The lamp he turned on in the corner cut the total darkness. After she kicked her shoes off, she stood at the end of the bed with her arms curled around herself, wondering why she couldn’t just whip off her clothes and crawl between the sheets. That’s when she started to shake. From her wet clothes, from her relief, from her fear.
Instantly Knox’s warm arms seemed to cover every inch of her upper torso. “Shiori, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s get you undressed.” He turned her around and pulled her shirt over her head. Then he unhooked her bra and unzipped her pants, tugging the leather down her legs, leaving her in just her panties. Part of her wanted to protest that he didn’t need to treat her like a child, but it was a small part. He slipped a T-shirt over her head and softly kissed her lips. “Crawl in. I’ll be right there.”
The sheets were cool on her bare legs. Strange that she felt warmer now in just a T-shirt than she had fully clothed. She watched Knox open the windows before he turned the light off. Then the mattress dipped and a warm body moved in behind her. He draped his arm over her side, tucking her more firmly against him. Then his other arm slipped beneath her pillow.
A damp breeze wafted over her and she closed her eyes.
But she couldn’t sleep.
“It’ll keep until morning,” Knox mumbled.
“What?”
“Whatever it is that’s keeping you awake.”
“Maybe I’m just lying here enjoying the fresh air on my face. I never open my windows.”
“Never? Why not?”
“Too smoggy in Tokyo.”
“What about in your penthouse?”
“Guess I didn’t think about it.”
“So you haven’t ever lain in bed and listened to the rain?”
“No. It smells good. I never noticed that before.”
“I could say something corny like it’s past time you stopped to smell the rain, but I’ll just say the scent and sound of rain falling is one of the most relaxing things in the world.” He rubbed his mouth across the shell of her ear. “Let it lull you to sleep.”
Shiori listened to the ping-ping of raindrops connecting with metal. And the soft patter of water on the concrete. The breeze brought the scents of dirt and growing things.
Her eyelids grew heavier. Before sleep overtook her, she believed she’d found heaven, being cocooned in bed with Knox as rain fell.
* * *
THE next morning when Shiori awoke she curbed her wave of disappointment that the windows were closed. She had another pang when she realized Knox wasn’t in bed with her. Pushing up, she glanced at the clock. Nine a.m.
No sound of him banging pots and pans in the kitchen. No sound of the TV blasting some sports channel. No sound of the shower running.
She got out of bed to track him down.
Her feet made no noise as she ventured to the main part of the house. She froze when she saw him standing in front of the picture window, shirtless, in just his boxers.
“You aren’t nearly as stealthy as Ronin,” Knox said without turning around.
“Ronin has trained with a master who is a seventh-line descendant of ninja warriors. So he’s got the rolling-in-and-out-like-fog thing down.” She edged closer. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know. Lately, I’m just . . . out of my element.”
“With what?”
“With the dojo. With the MMA program. With you.” He paused. “And the one person I always talk to about this stuff isn’t here. And even if he were, I couldn’t talk to him.”
“So talk to me.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s guy stuff.”
“Does some of it have to do with the way I disrespected you Thursday night?”
His shoulders stiffened. “Some.”
“I want to make this right between us. I’d planned to make an apology at the next staff meeting about—”
“Jesus, don’t do that.” Knox whirled around. “Don’t you understand that’ll just make it worse? Make me look even more like a chump.”
She stared at him, wondering if her pride had cost her the best thing that had happened to her.
“You apologized to me. No one else needs to know the particulars. And I’d be surprised if you openly defied me in public again.” He offered her a brittle smile. “But in private? That’s a whole other story.”
“Knox, I feel like you say you’ve forgiven me, but you haven’t. I don’t want you holding back because you’re waiting for that defiant bitch to show up again.”
“Maybe part of me is.”
That blow from him hurt worse than Mia’s elbow to the head.
Knox stepped closer. “But another part of me wants to rewind. Return to Thursday at noon when we were locked body to body, mouth to mouth, in the Crow’s Nest.”
Shiori touched his face. “At that point in time we knew what we both needed. I have no idea what you need now.”
“I need you.”
“How?”
“With no pressure. Can we just be in the same space today without any of this hanging over us? If we end up wanting to bang each other’s brains out, I’ll hand you the reins. But for everything else? I get to choose what we do on this rainy day.”
“Okay.” She looked down at her feet.
Knox tipped her face up, forcing her attention. “First thing I want today?”
“What?”
“To see your fight injuries.” She tried to jerk out of his hold, but he held firm. “Not kidding. Strip off the T-shirt.”
Ten arguments danced on the tip of her tongue, but she bit them all back. Then she lifted her arms above her head and looked at Knox. If he wanted her shirt off so bad, he could take it off.
He eased the fabric over her head.
So she stood in front of him naked, except for her panties.