Unraveled (6 page)

“We’ll turn your classes into open exercises and that’ll fix it.”

She shook her head. “I can see that as a solution if I’d be gone only a day or two.
But I’m planning to be gone all week.”

His eyes narrowed. “Will this be a regular thing? Because you promised Sensei you’d
be fully invested with Black Arts. And now you’re taking off the second fucking week
Ronin is gone?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Fine. Put Zach in your advanced classes. Chelle can cover your early classes. Then
we’ll have open exercises in the others.”

“That makes it easy. Thanks for your input.”

“No problem.”

They stared at each other.

“Is there anything else you need to fill me in on before you jet off to Me-hi-co?”

“No. Just that I . . .”

Knox leaned closer. He’d never seen her flustered. It’d be easy to fall back into
his dickish behavior, but he couldn’t quite do it. “Shitake, you don’t have to be
embarrassed to admit how much you’ll miss me when you’re south of the border. Word
is I’m a really great guy.”

She smiled as he’d hoped she would. “Only in your dreams, Ob-Knox-ious.”

“You’re all set to go?”

“I leave at eleven p.m. so I can make the morning meetings.”

“I don’t envy you the red-eye flight. I used to take that one home when I was on leave.
I figured I’d rather sleep on the plane than lose time with my family.”

“You never talk about your family.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “We can’t act civilized to each other long enough to
have a conversation about anything.”

“That’s a fact.”

“But when you get back, we need to talk.” Shit. That sounded like he wanted to revisit
their discussion from yesterday. “About
Black Arts. We need to revamp the MMA program, and we’ve got a chance to hire the
premier MMA trainer.”

“Why is he available?”

“He needs a change. I have a rough idea of Black Arts financials. This guy won’t be
cheap, but hiring him could actually solve half a dozen of our problems with the programs.
Problems that Ronin hasn’t wanted to face.”

“I’m in agreement that changes need to be made. After I get back, bring me the guy’s
name, his salary needs, his qualifications, and we’ll hammer it out.”

“Sounds good. Safe travels.” He turned and started to leave.

She said, “Knox?” as he reached the door.

“Yeah?”

“Black Arts isn’t all we need to talk about.”

He couldn’t look at her when he said, “I know.” Before he said something stupid, he
walked out.

TWISTED
was dead Saturday night.

Knox was in his rotation as bartender. Due to low attendance, he had plenty of time
to watch the dozen members who had the lounge area to themselves. Jake and Ginny and
were deep in a negotiation. Bill and Joe were facing the fireplace, and the way Joe’s
head kept bobbing, Bill was enjoying more than a glass of wine. Master Kirk had Patsy
wrapped in a blanket after a scene. Leanne sat on the floor by Mistress Annabelle,
rubbing her feet. Two new female submissives were chatting in the corner, sending
pointed looks to two Doms who looked like they were discussing sports.

Master Merrick slid into a seat at the bar. “Knox.”

“What can I get you tonight, sir?”

“Tanqueray and tonic.”

After Knox got Merrick’s approval on the drink, he rested his elbows on the bar. “Slow
night.”

“It happens. My bottom line doesn’t change if members show up or not. It’s nice to
have a break once in a while. Which suits you tonight, since bartending isn’t your
thing.”

Knox grinned. “I’m a beer guy, so I’m great at popping tops and pulling drafts.”

“With mixed drinks, it’s all about taking the time to get the ratios right.” Merrick
ran his hand through his hair. “I haven’t talked to you in a while. How’ve you been?”

“Good. Busy at the dojo since Ronin is out of the country. I always think he walks
around like lord of his domain . . . until I actually have to do his job. Then I remember
how much it sucks to be the big boss. How much pressure there is.”

“It’s not as easy as some assume, being the lord of your own domain,” he said dryly.
“I swear the majority of my time is spent dealing with privacy and security issues.
Doesn’t leave free time to enjoy the fruits of my labors.”

“I haven’t seen you in here much lately.”

Merrick poked the ice cubes in his drink with his straw. “The Friday night crew is
in need of my presence. Not the staff, but the members who decide to test their limits
or try something new. It can be entertaining. I was here last Saturday, just briefly,
to meet with a new Domme to the club.” He glanced up. “You were here, right?”

He nodded. “I was booked in the back.”

“Did you meet Mistress B?” he asked casually.

Knox leaned in. “Yes. And because I work with that woman every goddamn day, I recognized
her right away. The mask and the platinum wig didn’t fool me. She was as surprised
to see me as I was to see her.”

“I’ll bet. I found it interesting she didn’t apply for membership as Ronin’s sister.
She used her club references in Tokyo. Only after she and I met in person did she
tell me who she was.” He took a drink. “Will her being here be a problem for you?”

Not in the way you might think, because the damn woman makes me think
. Annoyed by that thought, he said, “She and I constantly butt heads at the dojo,”
a little testily.

“You worried because of her martial-arts skills and being a Domme she’ll take punishments
too far here at the club?”

Knox frowned at him. “That’s the last worry I’d ever have with her. The only person
I’ve ever seen with more control is her brother.”

“So is it the idea of seeing her in a sexual situation that’s causing your concern?”

He thought back to last week when she’d made Dex come just by commanding it. That’d
been hot as hell. But she hadn’t demanded reciprocation. What if she had? Could Knox
have stood there watching Dex get Mistress B off with his hand or his mouth?

No. And fuck if that feeling of . . . possession didn’t annoy him too. As much as
he’d like to witness She-Cat losing control and see what she looked like lost in passion,
he knew he couldn’t stand watching it happen at the hands of another man.

I’d want it to be
me
getting her off. Watching her writhe on
my
tongue,
my
fingers,
my
cock as she comes unraveled.

“Knox?”

He met Merrick’s gaze. “I don’t know. I talked to her after her scene with Dex. I
wasn’t surprised to learn that she’s a Domme. What I can’t wrap my head around are
male submissives.”

“She tried to explain it to you?”

“Tried and failed.”

Merrick studied him in depth.

“What?”

“You’ve been part of Twisted for five years, Knox. My trust in you is implicit. So
I’m going to tell you something that very few people know about me.”

When Knox grabbed himself a beer, Merrick laughed.

“You may need that when I tell you I was a submissive for seven years.”

Knox choked on his beer. “No shit? But you’re so . . . Jesus, Merrick. You know how
goddamn formidable you are.”

“And there’s where your problem originates. You see male submissives as weak, probably
as pansy asses with mommy-pleasing
issues, the need to be coddled, but I assure you that’s a dead-wrong assessment. Dead
wrong,” he repeated.

“So how’d you meet your . . . ?”

“I met Lizette when I was eighteen. I’d moved to Denver to attend college. She was
this beautiful, dynamic woman twenty years older than me, who owned my apartment building
and ran her own successful real-estate-development company. She’d come by the apartment
complex to check on something and I just happened to be in the manager’s office. Somehow
we ended up in the courtyard talking for hours. My college education, my family life,
the girls I’d dated. Then we discussed business and the difference between setting
goals versus having dreams. She firmly believed strong discipline on one side of your
life would automatically bolster the other. So she began to train me.”

“Did you know what she was?”

Merrick shook his head. “I’d never heard of a woman calling the shots in all aspects
of her life being called anything except a cold, calculating, ball-busting bitch.”
He smiled, but it held a hint of sadness. “Lizette was anything but cold. She was
warm, giving, loving, and unashamed of her needs. I was young and so very green. She
taught me everything I know about how to please a woman. Which meant I spent a lot
of time learning mental and physical discipline at her feet and occasionally tied
to her bed. I learned to please her not out of a sense of obligation, but because
anticipating her needs gave me a sense of pride and purpose.
No one
knew her like I did.
No one
could give her what I did. When she trusted that I’d given her my all without boundaries
or exceptions, she returned that adoration. I’d never felt so . . . complete. I finally
felt like a man.”

When he paused to take a drink, Knox asked, “So did she expect out of you what I see
the Dommes here expecting out of their submissives?”

“Yes. And no. Did I wear a collar? Of sorts. She gave me a
necklace with a tiny charm that had our initials intertwined, and I wore it with the
same pride submissives wear their collars. Did I spend time on my knees? Yes. During
the first few months with her, she used that as a way for me to focus on her words
and her voice. Other times when she demanded I drop to my knees, it was to service
her.” Merrick glanced up. “Bear in mind all of this happened behind closed doors.
She was a damn possessive woman. She hated the idea of anyone seeing me naked but
her. So she never would’ve taken me to a club like this. She never would’ve strapped
on a dildo and fucked me in public for the amusement of others. She used reward with
me rather than humiliation. She didn’t care if others knew how well disciplined I
was; she cared only that
I
showed my impeccable training to her as the ultimate respect for her. When we were
together in public, it was trickier. Since she was so much older than me, she introduced
me as her assistant.” He scowled. “Which rankled my young man’s ego big-time. I wanted
everyone to know that I was solely hers, but I also understood that her business would
suffer if we were out as a couple. We lived together in one of the bigger apartment
buildings she owned, but I also had an apartment there—not that I think the ones closest
to her were fooled.”

Knox swigged his beer. A million questions raced around in his head, but he waited
for Merrick to continue.

“I graduated from college and went to work for her company. That year we bought and
sold a record number of properties and made huge amounts of money. I had it all. The
next year I’d almost had Lizette convinced we could take our relationship public when
she . . .” His voice broke, and he took a sip of his drink. “She was diagnosed with
breast cancer.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, man, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t good news. She tried to cut me out of her life. She fired me. She
had the locks changed on the apartment. But I refused to accept that. I wouldn’t let
my Mistress go through everything
alone. I made her understand that she didn’t need to shelter me because I always had
been—and always would be—
her
shelter. Her lame-assed argument was she didn’t want me to remember her only as frail
and dying. And as I watched her suffer through all the medical treatments, I understood
she was stronger than I’d ever fathomed. I realized that
her
being so goddamn formidable didn’t make
me
a weak submissive or a weak man. It made me a stronger man than I ever would’ve been
without her.

“Lizette fought the good fight for a year. Even on her deathbed the crazy woman provided
proof to her lawyer that we’d lived together for seven years, and that invoked the
common-law marriage statute. So she left me everything—her real-estate holdings, money
in the bank. I was set for life, but I didn’t have the only thing I’d ever wanted,
the only person who’d truly ever been mine. She belonged to me as much as I belonged
to her.” Merrick pushed his empty drink glass toward the edge of the bar. “Can I get
a bottle of water, please?”

“Sure thing.” Knox walked to the far cooler, needing a second to get a handle on the
emotions going haywire inside him. What he’d just heard didn’t sound like servitude;
it sounded like a normal, albeit tragic, love story. Maybe even better than what was
considered normal. He grabbed a bottle from the far back shelf so he could feel the
cooling effects of the refrigerated air on his hot face. He stood and walked back,
setting the water in front of Merrick, more confused than ever.

“Thanks.” Merrick uncapped the bottle and drank. Slowly twisted the top back on. Studied
the label for several long moments before he looked up at Knox again. “Why do you
think I told you that story, Knox?”

“Checking to see if my tear ducts are working? Or testing the theory that drinkers
really do confide in their bartenders?”

“Such a smart-ass.” But Merrick smiled. “You said I’m a formidable Dom. That’s because
I was an equally formidable submissive.
Lizette owned my balls in the bedroom. Outside of that, I could be the biggest dick-swinging
macho asshole in the world. And I was.”

Knox chuckled.

“After Lizette . . . I was a different man. I knew I’d never be another woman’s submissive,
so I took what I’d learned from Lizette and became a Dom.”

“Not to be morbid, but if she were still alive . . . ?”

“I’d still be at her feet, arguing with her about some stupid shit, because she and
I did not see eye to eye on some things. On most things, actually.”

That sounded like him and Shiori. The woman could get his dander up with just a derisive
look.

“Now I want to get to the real reason you asked me about the male submissive mind.”

Knox saw that Merrick had rested his forearms on the bar. And fuck if the man didn’t
have that “I’m a Dom and you
will
spill your guts to me now” look in his eyes.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

How did he even do this? He glanced down and saw he’d twisted the bar towel into a
tight knot.

“Who told you that they believed you are submissive?”

Of course Merrick would just toss that out there. And Knox fought against the need
to look around to see if anyone had heard.

“It’s really freaked you out that much?”

“Yeah. It’s not something I ever considered. It’s not like I have secret fantasies
of a woman tying me up and doing whatever she wants to me.”

“I never did either until Lizette.” He paused and tapped his fingers on the bar. “Let
me ask you this. Have you ever used a whip or a flogger on a woman?”

He shook his head. “My hard-and-fast rule. I don’t beat on women. Period. Not here,
not at the dojo, not in any capacity. Ever.”

“You’re former military.”

“Let’s skip the ‘do I think women belong in combat situations’ question because the
answer is too damn complicated.”

“Fair enough. And your family? Do you have brothers or sisters?”

“Two younger sisters. My mom married when I was sixteen. When I left for the army
at eighteen, she’d just given birth to my little sister Vivie. So Vivie is almost
eighteen and my other little sister, Zara, is sixteen. What does that have to do with
anything?”

“Do they live here?”

“In Golden.”

“Do you see them often?”

He smiled, thinking of the latest selfie they’d sent him. “Every couple of weeks.
They need me to ride herd on them since they have Mom and their dad, Rick, snowed
that they’re angels.”

“Who told you that they thought you were submissive?”

Knox said, “Shiori,” without pause because he’d been thinking of something else. He
narrowed his eyes at Merrick. “Smooth, you bastard.”

“I didn’t get to be a formidable Dom by whips and cuffs alone, Knox.”

“Okay. So now that’s out in the open, let me ask you the goddamn question that I really
don’t want an honest fucking answer to.”

Merrick laughed. “Hit me.”

“Do you think I’m submissive?”

It was excruciating to wait for Merrick’s response. “Will an honest fucking answer
have you leaping across the bar and kicking my ass with some nasty jujitsu moves?”

“So that’s your answer.”