Unraveled (12 page)

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.”

“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 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.”

“But . . . 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.