Unraveled

by Lorelei James

  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.”

  He lowered his voice. “Yes, I think you’re submissive. But I will qualify that statement. It’s not something that was on your radar. It certainly wasn’t on mine when I first met Lizette. And like me, I don’t think just any Domme can walk up to you and elicit that ‘I want to serve you’ reaction. There’s only one woman who can convince you that she deserves that kind of trust and loyalty from you. Is it a more disturbing thought that you may never find her? Or that maybe you already have?”

  Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  “Are you man enough to overcome your fears that ‘real’ men aren’t submissives?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Merrick cocked his head. “Someone asked me once why there weren’t more hetero male submissives, not only at Twisted but at other clubs.”

  “What did you say?”

  “That most men weren’t strong enough to submit. We’re inherently weak creatures; we worry about ego and machismo. I will tell you there is no greater feeling as a man than when you know in your heart that no other man in the world can ever give your woman what you do. And you’d wrap your hands around the neck of the man who even dared to try.”

  “Master Merrick? I hate to interrupt, but Delilah needs you in the medical room.”

  “Thanks, Tia, I’ll be right there.” Merrick gave Knox another look. “My door is open if you need to discuss this further.”

  “Thanks.”

  The bar got busy for the next hour. Then everyone cleared out and Knox was back to staring at the clock, wishing for closing time. Wishing he could just drink a couple of beers and stop all the questions pinging around in his head. His world had been turned upside down tonight by Merrick’s story, confession, whatever the hell it’d been.

  Wrong. His world had been turned upside down the second Shiori Hirano had walked into his life.

  “Hey, bartender.”

  That voice. Not just in his head. He closed his eyes. How was he supposed to think rationally now? He turned around and faced her with a smile. She wore the platinum wig and a light blue mask. “Hey, Mistress B. I wasn’t sure if I’d see you tonight.”

  “I wasn’t sure if I’d make it here after being gone all week.”

  “Was it a successful trip?”

  She smiled. “Very.”

  “What can I get you to drink?”

  She cocked her head. “Surprise me.”

  Was this some sort of test? Knox looked at her and saw that smirk on her lips. “By surprise do you mean . . . ? Am I choosing what you want to drink? Or what I think you’d like?”

  “Astute man. How about you make me what you think I’ll like.”

  “One blue-balls special coming up.”

  She laughed, crumpled up a bar napkin, and tossed it in his face.

  Knox remembered Amery had whipped up a concoctio
n called a dirty-girl lemonade. He closed his eyes and latched on to that memory, seeing the bottles lined up on Ronin’s bar. Vanilla vodka. Triple sec. Chambord. Sour mix. Lemon-lime soda. He found all the booze and mixed the drink at the end of the bar, away from her curious gaze.

  He added two cherries and a slice of lemon to a cocktail sword and dropped it and the straw in the glass. After setting down a cocktail napkin, he put the drink in front of her.

  “What is it?”

  “Oh, no, Mistress. That’s not how this works. You taste it and tell me if I passed your test.”

  Those golden eyes turned serious. “How’d you know it was a test?”

  Knox leaned in. “Because you hope that I’ve been paying as much attention to you as you’ve been paying to me.”

  “You are cocky.”

  He smiled. “Try it.”

  When she pursed her lips around the straw, his cock stirred as he imagined those lips at the base of his shaft as she deep throated him. Would she make that same sexy little humming noise as she just did after tasting his drink?

  “Wow. Knox. This is very tasty. You did well. What is it?”

  “A dirty-girl lemonade.”

  “Cool name, too. I thought you’d serve me a screaming orgasm.”

  “Oh, I’d like to serve you that. But not in drink form.” What the hell had possessed him to say that? And why was flirting with her becoming as easy as fighting with her?

  She bit into a cherry. “Behave or I might have to take you into the naughty room.”

  “And what would you do to me in the naughty room, Mistress?”

  Her gaze slowly moved from his eyes, over his lips and throat, stopping midway down his chest. “I’d take your shirt off.”

  “And then?”

  “And then I’d put my hands all over you. Letting my fingers dig into every muscular groove in your biceps and forearms. Then I’d stand behind you and tell you to flex so I could admire all the dips and grooves in your shoulders and back as well.”

  His heart had accelerated and his cock was hard, even just from her phantom touching. “After that?”

  “I’d want to taste what I’d just touched. So I’d start over and use my mouth.”

  “I don’t see how that’d be punishment, Mistress.”

  “I planned to be naughty with you in the naughty room, not punish you.”

  “Uh, can I get a drink down here?” someone asked from the end of the bar.

  No. Go the fuck away. I’m busy.

  “Knox? You have a customer.”

  He forced himself to wait on the Dom and his sub. By the time he returned to Mistress B, the moment had been broken.

  Or she’s broken you. All she had to do to get you eager to follow her like a tail-wagging dog was give you a little dirty talk?

  Knox busied himself for the next ten minutes restocking areas that didn’t need to be restocked. When he noticed she’d finished her drink, he returned and picked up her empty glass. “Can I get you another?”

  “No. I’m good. I’ll wander and see who’s here.”

  “You’ll be disappointed there aren’t any male subs here tonight.” He shrugged. “It’s been slow.”

  “You saying I should just go home?”

  “I’d never presume to tell a Mistress what to do.”

  She laughed. “High marks for saying that with a straight face.”

  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.