When he still didn’t crack a smile, she sobered.
“You’re serious.”
Was he? Was he playing with this submission thing? Just seeing how far he could push her before he chickened out and backed off?
Or maybe you’re not playing.
“Knox.”
Her voice held that razor-sharp edge, and goddamn if he didn’t find himself responding. “I don’t know what I am besides really fucking confused.”
They stared at each other, the heat and unease zinging between them in equal parts.
Then she said, “Come home with me.”
His cock was raring to go, but this wasn’t a decision that could be made from a half hour of sexy banter. “I’m not ready for that.”
She stepped back, and he noticed she wore thigh-high black leather boots and a miniskirt that played peekaboo with the tops of the boots. Fuck. Those were the kind of boots a man dropped to his knees to peel down her legs. With his teeth.
“You’re right.”
His gaze snapped up to hers. “About?”
“Declining my offer. When you’re ready to . . . talk, we’ll meet on neutral ground.”
“Agreed.”
“Good. So thanks for the drink.” She turned and walked off toward the private rooms.
Why wasn’t she leaving? Hadn’t he just told her there weren’t male subs hanging around tonight?
But what if that motherfucker Dex was here?
Shit. What if they’d set up a meeting last week for a repeat tonight?
Fuck that.
Knox jumped over the partition and stormed across the room.
“Knox? Where are you going?”
“I gotta check on something.”
“No. You are manning the bar tonight. I don’t need you in the back rooms.”
Knox slowly turned around and faced Merrick.
He said, “Let it go.” What he really meant was, Let her go.
“Fine.” But it wasn’t fine. And where the fuck had all this come from all of a sudden? He’d walked in here tonight ready to hook up with a woman. He’d take her to bed, show her a good time, then show her the door. Plenty of women who spent the evening alone at the club were ready for after-hours action. He suspected Chrissy—Christy?—was hanging around up front by the bar to see if he wanted a replay of their mattress mambo from a few months back.
When he calmed down and scoured the bar, she was nowhere to be found.
Probably because she’d seen him with Mistress B and assumed he’d be occupied. Add in the way he’d started to chase after the sexy Domme . . . Yeah. He was fucked for a fuck buddy tonight.
Yet it didn’t bother him as much as he’d imagined.
Knox cleaned up the bar area—it closed an hour earlier than the club—and exited out the main door. He didn’t think of Shiori until he got home. Immediately his cock got hard.
He flopped on his bed naked and began to stroke. Imagining her soft little hand moving with surety. Would her tongue tease his nipples? Or would she be rubbing her mouth across his collarbone and up his neck? Blowing in his ear? Whispering dirty words? Grinding her pussy against his leg?
His hand moved faster as he envisioned her here, with him, touching him, directing him, and yes, commanding him.
“Don’t come. You come on my command.”
But he couldn’t hold back. He was too close. He could feel that zing in his tailbone, moving through his groin and then that first tug of release.
“Fuck. Oh fuck, yeah.” He kept jacking until he was spent. Breathing hard, he reached for the tissues on the nightstand and cleaned himself up.
Too keyed up to sleep, he got up and ran through a few katas. Then he performed balancing moves that had been hard as hell to perfect for a guy his size, but he’d worked on them for years until he had them down. Now running through the set was a reminder he could do anything he put his mind to.
Which made him wonder if this situation with Shiori was something he needed strength to push through.
Finally after an hour and two bottles of beer, he fell into an exhausted and dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
ALMOST a week of not working out spurred Shiori to get to the dojo and move her body. She warmed up on the treadmill for half an hour, then switched to weights. During workouts she blocked her mind to everything but maintaining proper form, breathing correctly, and counting her reps.
Except today her head kept replaying last night at Twisted.
Knox flirting with her, but respectfully within the parameters of club etiquette. Knox asking specifics of what she meant as far as the drink order. A small thing perhaps, but he grasped the difference between the options she’d given him. Knox admitting his confusion.