She petted his hair and spoke so softly Knox couldn’t hear. But whatever she’d said had pleased Dex, and he stood, clutching the blanket around his naked form before he wandered off.
Leaving the two of them alone.
From the shadows he said, “I like you as a platinum blonde, She-Cat.”
She turned around slowly, her gaze zeroing in on him even in the shadows. She said nothing as she sauntered forward, her carriage as purposeful as it was in the dojo, but her hips held an enticing sway he’d never seen before. She kept hold of the whip, flicking it with annoyance like a cat with a twitchy tail.
Too late he realized she’d cornered him completely.
“Well, well, Godan, if this isn’t an unexpected treat, running into you at my new club.”
His eyes narrowed. “Your new club? You’re a member here now?”
“Full-fledged.” She ran her whip up the outside of his thigh to his hip. “Identity verified and dues paid.”
“How long have you been a Domme?”
“How long have you been a member?” she countered.
“As long as I’ve known Ronin. Your turn, She—”
She pressed the whip handle against his lips. “Ah-ah. The name is Mistress B. Understand?”
He nodded.
“I’ve been a Domme for three years. I tried out two other clubs in Denver before this one. Neither worked out for me.”
“Does Ronin know?”
“That I’m a Domme? No. So he’d have no reason to expect he’d see me in this club. And it’s not like he’s been here in months anyway, right? That’s information I learned from his missus, not club secrets. When he gets back, we’ll sort out the details.” She traced the edge of the black band around his biceps. “You’re security. A neutral party, according to Greg.” Those beautiful golden eyes of hers bored into him. “Why?”
“I started out as a security goon. When Merrick changed the membership rules, he needed more proactive security. We all chose something that interested us. I trained for this type of club work with a Master who specialized in punishment. I’d already been working with Ronin on kinbaku and shibari.”
“Are you any good with ropes?”
When he took a breath to explain, he caught a lungful of her exotic scent. Damn her and the intimate web she was weaving around him. He wasn’t some green submissive who easily fell under the spell of a Dominant. “Back up, She—Mistress B.”
“Am I making you nervous?”
“No. You’re making me late for my next scene. So why don’t we just agree to avoid each other at the club from here on out?”
She immediately retreated. “Easy enough to find willing men to occupy my time.”
Knox should’ve shut his mouth, but something about this woman just got under his skin. “The male subs won’t play with you if all you’re doing is beating them and getting them off.”
“And you know that . . . how?”
He didn’t. But any man worth his balls would want to get her off—why else would he subject himself to pain and humiliation if he didn’t get to put his hands and mouth all over her?
“Knox?”
“Maybe if you’re really nice someday I’ll tell you.”
Whap. The whip handle landed across his chest. “Or I could make you tell me.”
“You think you can bring me to heel?” He laughed. “Gonna hafta grow a bit, kitty-cat.” He sidestepped her and started down the hallway.
“You can’t stop me from watching your scene.”
He turned and grinned. “Not me, but the Master I’m beating prefers privacy.”
“Maybe I’ll request your services for next weekend.”
His humor fled. “I don’t beat women. Ever. Not even if they get on their knees and beg me. Not even if they piss me the fuck off by insulting me.”
“Knox—”
“Drop it, Mistress. Find another toy to play with.”
He walked away and didn’t look back.
CHAPTER FOUR
THAT night Shiori dreamed that she had Knox strung up.
His gorgeous, big body was spread-eagled in chains, muscular arms straining above his head, his ankles shackled. She’d tortured him with touch, first a feather, then a piece of sandpaper, followed by a Wartenberg wheel, a rubber flogger, and a square of silk. She touched every inch of him, even the bottoms of his feet.
Then she touched him with her hands. Sometimes as soft as raindrops, other times using her nails.