Unraveled (Mastered 3)
“Holy cow, man. You annihilated the fastest course time!” Errol said with genuine awe.
“Really?”
“By, like, fifty seconds. Dude. You should totally try out for American Ninja Warrior. They have open auditions all over the country. You’d be a shoo-in.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence.”
Shiori handed Knox a bottle of water.
“Anyway, as the new course holder, you should have your picture on our wall of fame.”
“That’s not necessary. We’re just here having a good time.”
Errol’s lip lifted as he started his rebuke.
Shiori put her hand on his arm. “He’s a very private man in a highly sensitive occupation. Putting his picture up would violate about twenty rules in his contract.” She lowered her voice. “Don’t you think if I could tape him in all his hot-bodied glory I would have?”
“Uh. Yeah. Probably.”
“But I didn’t. So see? I’m making a sacrifice for him too.”
Errol dropped the cool act and stared at Knox as if he were Superman, Batman, and Spider-Man all rolled into one. “Sure, I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble when you’re just blowing off some steam, man.”
“No problem.”
“After you get your stuff gathered up, you can exit out the side door.”
They’d brought only one gym bag to share, and after switching out their shoes, Knox shouldered the bag and they headed out.
Shiori snagged his hand and towed him to the front of the building.
“Kitten, my truck is the other direction.”
“I know. But I want a picture of my record-holding American Ninja Warrior in front of the building.”
“Jesus. Seriously? Why?”
“So we have a record of this.”
“Shiori—”
She shut him up with a kiss. Then, in a more commanding tone, she said, “Not a request. Go stand over there.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When he positioned himself in front of the sign, wearing sunglasses, his sweaty shirt molded to his amazing chest, his athletic shorts showcasing his strong, muscular legs, she took a moment to feel the possession that this man was hers. She could touch, kiss, lick every part of him, anytime she wanted.
But for how much longer?
She had to lower her phone for a second as Knox’s words hit her in the gut. I’ll miss you like fucking crazy when you’re gone. I’d wonder what I should’ve done to make you stay.
“Are we done?” he said loudly.
“No, hang on. I had something in my eye.” She snapped two pictures and then said, “Smile in this one, Shihan.”
His smile . . . God. She was beginning to think she’d do anything for that smile. She tucked her phone away and waited for him to come to her.
As usual, he kissed her and had to have his hand on her someplace, which she loved.
“Where to?” he asked.
“You hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“Find us a steakhouse and I’ll buy you a piece of meat worthy of a record-holding champion.”
“Sounds good. Only you’re not buying.”
They had this argument all the time. He figured as the man it was his job to pay. She figured as his Mistress, it was her job to pay.
“We’ll arm wrestle for the check.”
Shiori flexed her biceps. “Watch out because I’ve been lifting weights.”
In one fluid motion, Knox picked her up and rolled her entire body against his chest like he was doing curls.
He grinned, looking mighty pleased with himself. “Gonna hafta grow a bit, kitty-cat.”
“Show-off.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
COME to me, please.
The text had been sent at ten p.m. There was no follow-up to the message.
Knox hadn’t hesitated to act on it, and he saw no reason to analyze his reaction. No need to respond because she knew he’d show up. She was every bit as obsessed with him as he was with her.
So he got in his truck and drove.
Half an hour after receiving the text, Knox arrived at Shiori’s penthouse.
In the entryway, he shucked off his boots and jeans, then tossed his jacket on the bench, followed by his button-down shirt. His boxer briefs would have to do, as he’d forgotten a pair of athletic shorts.
He tracked down a glass vase in the kitchen for the flowers he’d brought her—a dozen cream roses with pink-tipped petals that’d reminded him of her skin. He set them on the coffee table in the living room because she’d never see them in the kitchen.