But Master Daichi didn’t flinch. Or blink. Or close his eyes. He remained statue-still.
On the next swing, Ronin sliced down like he held a katana. Sensei used the towel to trap Ronin’s leg. In a nanosecond Master Daichi had Ronin immobilized on the floor with the rod pressed against Ronin’s face.
Holy. Shit.
One time Deacon had done a move on her like that.
Did it embarrass Ronin as much as it’d embarrassed her?
Ronin stayed still as his teacher delivered a lecture. Then he offered a hand and helped Ronin to his feet. He handed him the metal rod.
She pointed to the wooden tower that Ronin had moved to stand in front of and whispered, “What is that?” to Yasuji.
“It’s called the salmon ladder. Haven’t you ever seen one?”
She shook her head.
“They’re popular in those ninja warrior competitions on TV. Almost all of those obstacle-course challenges were taken from advanced martial arts training exercises.”
“Are you upset your ninja training secret has been revealed and used for entertainment?”
Yasuji offered her a contemplative look. “Everything becomes entertainment in this day and age. We use the exercise differently—not just to showcase strength but to condition the mental response. We don’t see it as an obstacle to overcome once but one to master.”
“So just because someone can climb to the top of the salmon ladder doesn’t mean they’ve mastered that skill.”
“Precisely. But watch Ronin-san. He’s not allowed just to climb it. Daichi will tell him how he wants him to climb it.”
Ronin held the steel bar out and jumped. The bar connected with the fourth set of grooves. He hung there, waiting for instruction.
Master Daichi barked an order and Ronin pulled the bar out of the slots and threw it—and himself—up to the next level.
Oh. My. Fucking. God. She had to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep from gasping. That had to be the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. The power of his body as he worked his way to the top of the structure. Then he dangled there, waiting.
Daichi said, “Daun.”
Wait. Did he say … down?
Sure enough, Ronin reversed the action and dropped down the ladder.
One.
Set.
Of rungs.
At a time.
Holy fuck.
Amery had seen Master Black do some very impressive things. She’d watched him fight and teach and bind and fuck. But this?
This was pure power. Pure beauty. Pure skill.
Pure sex holding on to a metal stick.
His body shook and she heard his labored breathing as he reached the bottom rung. But he paused. That, too, was sexy—Master Black’s deferment to Master Daichi. In a lesser man that obedience might’ve put him in a different light. But witnessing a powerful man such as Ronin relinquishing his role as teacher and becoming a rapt student sent goose bumps cascading throughout her body.
Daichi said, “Nugu.”
What did that mean?
Ronin let go of the bar with his right hand and his gi top slid off his left shoulder and arm. He wiped his free hand on his gi pants and then switched arms, shrugging out of his gi entirely. After wiping his right palm on his pants, both hands returned to the bar.
If nugu meant get undressed she wondered why she hadn’t heard Ronin say it to her.
The muscles in his back rippled, each sharp cut of flesh accentuating the sinew beneath his skin. His arms, those arms that held her every night, were corded and gleaming with sweat. Even with as many times as she’d seen her husband’s body, from this angle with this exercise, she had a whole new appreciation for his spectacular form.
That man is mine.
Then Master Daichi snapped, “Mata.”
Mata. That wasn’t stop—yamete meant “stop.” Amery looked at Yasuji with confusion and whispered, “What does mata mean?”
“Again.”
No way.
Ronin threw the metal bar up.
Holy fucking shit. Seeing him do this whole routine again with his shirt off? She almost came on the spot. Her body clenched—teeth, hands, stomach, pussy, and thighs. She couldn’t breathe. All she could do was stare. And lust after the beautiful man she’d married.
When Ronin reached the bottom rung again, he still didn’t dismount. Master Daichi circled him. Then she heard three sharp whacks and realized Sensei had hit Ronin on the front side of his body with his belt. He leisurely strolled around behind Ronin and grabbed a long pole that was out of Ronin’s line of vision. Before she could figure out what the sadistic bastard intended, the man smacked Ronin’s knuckles. Hard. Twice on each hand.
She expected to see Ronin hit the floor.
It wasn’t that she didn’t have faith in him, but he was exhausted and hanging on by a thread. It’d be a natural reaction to let go.
But not Master Black. He didn’t even flinch. Not even after four more hard raps on his knuckles.
Finally Master Daichi poked Ronin between the shoulder blades with the bamboo pole.
Ronin dismounted and stood very still, head bowed, arms behind his back military-style. But he couldn’t stop his shoulders from heaving as he struggled to find his balance and his breath.
It took every ounce of willpower Amery owned not to go to him. Not to snag the towel from the floor, drop to her knees, and tend to her man.
Yasuji cleared his throat.
Ronin didn’t move but his sensei peered over Ronin’s shoulder at his brother. His mouth snapped shut when he saw Amery.
That’s when Ronin turned. His eyes locked on to hers. He said nothing. Daichi said nothing. Tension thickened the air.
Then Amery gave him a little finger wave.
Yasuji laughed. “Excuse me, Ronin-san. I need to speak with my brother and we’ll give you a few moments with your wife.”
Master Daichi and Ronin bowed to each other and then Yasuji flanked the older man as they disappeared down a corridor.
Amery picked up the towel and stood close enough to dab the sweat from Ronin’s chest. “I hope you don’t mind that I showed up here. The suspense of where you’d been every day and what you’ve been doing was killing me.” She swept the towel across his shoulders, unable to keep her eyes from tracking the bulked-up state of his traps. “After I dropped off the muffins I’d baked, Yasuji insisted we visit the training center, even when I figured the ‘no observation’ rule was always in effect here.” She patted down his biceps and forearms. “So we stayed in the back and watched and …”
Ronin’s entire body quivered from the tension he’d placed on all his muscles.
The towel fluttered from her fingertips. She placed her palm over his heart and curled her other hand around the back of his neck. Then she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to where his pulse hammered in his throat. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what?” he asked softly.
“Play it cool. Act like seeing your hard-toned body with your hardassed nature doesn’t affect me.”
“Affect you besides the way you’re babbling?”
She nodded.
“Tell me.”
Her fingers dug into his chiseled pectoral.
“Amery.”
“I want to drop to my knees and touch, stroke, lick, and suck every square inch of this body, over and over, until you fully understand what it means to be worshiped. Because I worship you, Ronin Black. You are the most magnificent man I’ve ever seen. The most amazing man I’ve ever met.”
He remained quiet for a long moment. “Baby. Your words honor me on a day I’ve had little praise. So thank you.”
“Are you done for today?”
“Close. Why?”
Amery’s gaze collided with his. “Because I want you. Just like this. Hot, sweaty, your muscles quivering from exertion and that fierce look on your face.”
Ronin uncurled her hand from the back of his neck and kissed her knuckles. “Anytime
you want me you can have me.”
“But?”
He released a heavy sigh. “But I’m not in the right headspace now.”
“Oh.” She tried not to deflate.
“That’s why I am the way I am when I come home after training. It’s … physically demanding and a total mindfuck. It takes me a while to let go.”
“Are you sorry I came?”
“Never.” He kissed her knuckles again. “I want Master Daichi to meet you.”
“He doesn’t look like he’ll be as nice as his brother.”
“Master Yasuji can be ten times harder than Sensei when he puts his mind to it.”
“He’s also a jujitsu master?”
Ronin gave her an odd look. “No. Didn’t he tell you who he is?”
“No. At first when he served me cookies and tea I thought he might be the butler.”
He laughed. “I cannot wait to tell him that. Yasuji is bakushi.”
She frowned. Where had she heard that term?
“He’s Japan’s most renowned kinbaku and shibari rope master. He’s been my instructor since I was eighteen. He’s the sole reason I was selected to train with Master Daichi.”
“Yasuji is the one who taught you all of your rope tricks?”
From behind them, Yasuji said, “Only the good ones. The boy has a lot to learn yet.”
Amery spun around. “I apologize if I’ve offended you by my ignorance of your stature.”
“I’ll admit it was refreshing to meet you, knowing more about you than you know about me.”
Of course Ronin had told his teacher all about her.
For the first time it didn’t bother her that a stranger knew she enjoyed sensual rope play with her husband. She smiled. “Well, I’m a recent rope enthusiast—strictly from the tie-ee’s perspective. I look forward to Ronin practicing the new rope tricks he’s learned from you on me.”
Ronin muttered, “Jesus.”
Yasuji laughed. “Yes, Amery-san, you are definitely the woman that’ll keep Master Black on his toes for the next fifty years.”
“If I could be so lucky to have her beside me for that long.” Ronin wrapped his arm around her, facing her toward his teacher. He introduced her to his sensei in Japanese.
Master Daichi bowed stiffly.
After she returned his bow, Amery remembered the Japanese phrase Ronin had taught her that she was honored to meet him.
Sensei Daichi didn’t seem impressed. Then he motioned Ronin aside.
Amery watched closely, wondering if Ronin was getting his ass chewed for his wife showing up.
Yasuji stepped in front of her. “You’re protective of him.”
“Someone needs to be.”
“My Rikya used to go head to head with my brother.”
“Did she win?”
“Yes. She was a very determined woman. In all things.”
Her gaze moved to Yasuji. “Was your wife … one of your rope models?”
“She was my only rope model. She did not like my hands on other women.”
“I’m the same way with Ronin. Did she help you do kinbaku demonstrations?”
“Yes. Not with much enthusiasm at first, I’m afraid.”
“I understand that. I still …” She hesitated. What if Ronin hadn’t told his teacher that his wife had issues with public bindings? Maybe Ronin would be embarrassed if Yasuji knew he hadn’t done any rope demonstrations for months.
“I will answer every question I see in your eyes, Amery-san. Please come visit me when Ronin returns to training.”
“I’d like that.”
Ronin draped his arm over her shoulder. “Quit trying to talk her into being your rope model, old man. She belongs to me.”
Yasuji’s gaze dropped to the white scar tissue on Ronin’s arm that was her name in kanji. “I see that. So you’re taking your wife … ?”
“To Iriomote.”
“So far?”
“So private,” Ronin said with a grin. “It is week two of our honeymoon.”
“How far away is it?” Amery asked.
“Below Okinawa,” Ronin said. “It’s a long haul but Ojisan’s plane is picking us up in Sapporo tonight. We’ll be on the ferry to the island tomorrow morning.”
“I wish you safe travels.”
Amery faced Ronin after Yasuji walked away. “We’re leaving tonight? But I’m not packed.”
“Yes you are. There’s a suitcase on the plane with swimsuits and summer clothes for both of us.”
“But … how do you know my size?”
“You’re really asking me that with all the times I’ve had my hands on you?”
“Point taken.”
“Besides, if I have my way, you won’t be wearing anything at all for the next six days but a suntan.”
Amery kissed him. “You have the best ideas.”
Chapter Six
After their idyllic week in the tropics, they’d returned to training camp so Ronin could finish his final session. The last two weeks had flown by and now she was faced with spending an entire week apart from her husband.
“Baby, you’re killing me here.”
“I don’t want to say good-bye.” Amery pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling.
Ronin’s soft lips brushed her hairline. “I’ll make it up to you when I get to Tokyo.”
“How?”
“Find something you want to do, someplace you want to go, and I’ll take you there, no questions asked. Just the two of us.”
“I’ll miss you like crazy. Don’t work yourself into a coma.” She sighed against his neck. “But you’ll do whatever Master Daichi wants.”
“Amery—”
“It is my right as your wife to worry about you.”
“I love you, baby. So much.”
“I love you too.”
The door blew open and Tamara Okada strode toward them.
She held out her hands to her son.
Ronin kissed her cheeks and gave her a quick hug. “Mother. You look amazing as always.”
“And you, my son, look exhausted.” She faced Amery, offering her the same kiss, kiss, hug greeting. “Amery, you look beautiful as ever.”
“As do you, Tamara.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze bounced between them. “Have you two said your good-byes so Amery and I can take off?”
“Yes, we have. You’re planning on three days for the Okada factories tour?” Ronin asked.
“Yes. But it’ll be four days before we’re in Tokyo.”
“I plan on showing my wife all my favorite spots there, so don’t steal my thunder, Mom.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. But you should know your grandfather will be back in Tokyo the day before you arrive, and he’s requested I host a cocktail party for the newly married couple.”
Amery watched Ronin’s eyes harden. “Please tell me you refused.”
“I did not. I think it’s a great idea. So be prepared to suffer through your grandfather’s pride in you as you introduce your wife to his friends and business associates,” Tamara said dryly.
“Fine. But she doesn’t meet Ojisan until I can introduce her to him, understood?”
“Of course.”
“And one other thing.” Ronin switched to Japanese.
Before he uttered more than five words, Amery poked him in the arm. “English, ninja. Especially if this concerns me.”
Tamara smirked at her son. “Care to start again?”
“She’ll want to shop and I pay for everything. I don’t care if she wants to buy a potato peeler or an entirely new set of bedroom furniture for our apartment, it will come from my accounts.”
“Ronin—”
Then he was in her face. “This is a nonnegotiable point, Amery. You are my wife. I provide for you, whether it is food, clothing, or home furnishings. Period.” He paused and exhaled. “Don’t deny me the pleasure of making sure you have everything you need, okay?”
When he put it that way, and
added the puppy-dog eyes … how could she refuse him? “Okay.”
A man approached and spoke so rapidly that Amery couldn’t make out one word. So much for her Japanese language lessons.
Tamara gestured to Amery’s bags and they were whisked off to be loaded onto Okada’s plane.
Ronin framed her face in his hands. “I hate we’ll be out of contact for the next week. But I’ll be in Tokyo before you know it.”
She stood on tiptoe to press her mouth to his. “I’ll miss you every moment. But I can’t wait to get the inside scoop on Ronin as a boy from his mama.”
Without breaking eye contact with Amery, Ronin said, “No embarrassing stories from my childhood, okay, Mom?”
Tamara laughed. “No promises about that, Ronin-san.”
He groaned.
One more kiss, one more softly whispered I love you, and she forced herself to follow Tamara onto the tarmac.
***
It’d been a hellish week. No Amery. No respite in his training.
“Pay attention!” Master Daichi shouted. “Ten more.”
Ronin’s arms and legs were as limp as ramen. In all the years he’d trained with Daichi he’d never given up, never refused a command, never complained.
Evidently that was about to change.
He managed the spider crawl on the inside of “the box.” Halfway down, his body just gave out and he fell the last eight feet. With his years of jujitsu training he’d learned to make safe falls, so nothing was hurt worse than his pride.
“Hachidan,” Daichi barked. “Get up. Go again.”
Ronin shook his head, sweat flying everywhere as he rolled to his knees. “I’m done in.”
“You are done in when I say you’re done in.”
Grabbing a towel, he mopped his face. “Let me rest and regroup.”
“That was not a request.”
He heard the sharp crack at the same time he felt the sting of Master Daichi’s belt connect with his quadriceps. He’d learned not to flinch over the years, but it’d been a long time since Sensei had employed his belt as a disciplinary measure.
When Ronin didn’t react, he knew another lash was coming. But he was prepared. He focused on hearing that whisper of fabric on fabric. He’d have less than a split second to counter the strike.
At the barely perceptible shush of Daichi’s sleeve brushing his pant leg, Ronin’s arm shot out. He wrapped the towel in his hand around the belt, stopping the strike from landing.
Schooled: The Mastered Series Page 6