CHAPTER EIGHT

THE following week, Alvares “Blue” Curacao showed up at Black Arts on time with his instructors—two men and one woman. He bowed and then offered his hand. “Hachidan Black. Thank you for this opportunity.”

It seemed strange to hear his belt rank mentioned since Ronin was used to being called Sensei at the dojo. “My pleasure. Have a seat, and everyone can introduce themselves before we get started.”

The tension in the room was palpable.

That’s when Shiori walked in.

Ronin could feel Knox and Deacon’s questioning looks, but he kept his focus on his sister. He’d asked her to mediate this meeting. Personal issues aside, Shiori was a shrewd businesswoman, and he wanted her involvement in this situation.

“Gentlemen.” She nodded to the other woman in the room. “Sophia. I’m Shiori Hirano, a visiting instructor from Japan. Since I have no personal stake in the outcome of this meeting, I’m here as an impartial mediator. Anything that is said in this meeting is confidential, agreed?”

“Agreed,” Blue said.

“Agreed,” Ronin said.

“Let’s start with you, Mr. Curacao. Tell us about your dojo. Number of students, qualifications of instructors, monthly fees.”

“Currently we have three qualified instructors besides myself, black belt levels sanctioned by BJJA—Brazilian Jujitsu Association. We teach seventy-five students. The majority of them are below blue belt ranking since the Brazilian method moves slower through the belt ranking system than traditional jujitsu. Our requirements are a minimum of three paid classes a week. We do not charge higher-ranking belts higher fees.”

Everyone around the table nodded approval. Several martial arts disciplines charged higher fees for brown and black belt levels—which created a problem because the instructors moved the students up the ranks faster to collect the significantly higher class fees.

When Blue revealed his hourly class fee, Ronin quickly did the math. They were making a nice chunk of change every month.

Shiori looked to Ronin to offer the same information.

After he finished speaking, she opened up the discussion to the instructors from both camps. Ronin was really impressed that his guys asked things he hadn’t considered. And Sophia asked why the Black Arts staff wasn’t utilizing female instructors. Then she questioned the boy-to-girl training ratio. Something that had never crossed his radar—until Shiori had questioned him along those same lines.

When Shiori began speaking of the different philosophies, Ronin discreetly shook his head. Always a pointless discussion.

Knox stood. “Let’s look at the training rooms.”

At that point, everyone left Blue and Ronin alone.

“I thank you for opening the door to this discussion, Sensei. Especially after—”

“You knocked me out? I don’t hold grudges.”

Blue cocked his head. “So I shouldn’t hold it against you that you let me win?”

Ronin said nothing.

“I’m an excellent fighter, but it shouldn’t have been that easy. I have to ask, why did you want the punishment?”

He would’ve been disappointed if Blue hadn’t picked up on it. “Ever done something so unbelievably stupid that you want to kick your own ass?”

“Of course.”

“Since I couldn’t do that, and no one here would help me out, I let you kick it for me.”

Blue laughed.

“I appreciate you following up on my physical condition after the fight.”

“No problem. I never asked if you made any money from the event.”

Ronin paused and studied the guy. Blue’s face carried scars from his fighting years. He was one intimidating motherfucker in the ring. But he had a decent head for business—Ronin had checked him out thoroughly before setting up the meetings. “It’s a nonissue at this point. Do you make money from events?”

“I make enough to tempt me into wanting to make more. I’d like to bring something up before we get into the possible dojo merger. Because if that doesn’t work out, for some reason I think this idea might.”

“I’m listening.”

Blue leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “We both know mixed martial arts fighters’ goals are to get into one of the big organizations and fight on a professional level. But if amateurs have no place to fight, how will they establish a record and move up the ranks?”

“It’s impossible. Or close to.”

“The major players are bypassing this market. I figured out that the way to make money is to pack the fight card with amateur fights. That brings in friends and family. Put women in the ring for one match. Then close the evening with a pro match, or what passes as a pro matchup. If we combine our resources, in very little time we would be the go-to promoters for amateur fights in this area.”

Ronin cocked his head. “How many fights are you promoting a year right now?”

“Three or four very small ones that are barely a step above smokers. How about Black Arts?”

“Officially? None. I personally set up . . . underground bouts a few times a year. I keep it off the radar. Pay the purse out of my pocket.”

Blue gave him a narrow-eyed look. “So you fight in these unsanctioned matches?”

He fought the urge to squirm. Before he’d returned to the cage, he’d had to come clean with Knox. It’d been fucking embarrassing to admit that in the past three years, he’d hidden his compulsion to fight like it was some dirty secret. He’d convinced himself he needed to test his skills outside of the dojo, outside of being Sensei Black. But the truth was, after all the years he’d spent earning his reputation with his fighting skills, he couldn’t just . . . stop. He loved to fight. It was the one thing in his life that he was good at.

“Hachidan?” Blue prompted.

“Yes, I’ve maintained a presence in the underground fighting world. Seventy percent of the time I referee. The other thirty percent?” He met Blue’s gaze head-on. “I fight.”

“Dangerous hobby, my friend, and one I’d require you give up for good if we join forces.”

Ronin nodded. He’d already been forced to give it up, and his respect grew for the man across the table for expecting they’d keep things on the up-and-up.

“Back to the topic at hand. I’d like to pursue a partnership with you for the major amateur event we’ve scheduled in three weeks.”

“Here in Denver?”

“Yep. And you’re thinking . . . why haven’t you heard of it, right?”

“Right.”

“That’s what I’m saying. You’re involved in the fight world, and you’re unaware of the event. Think how many other martial arts studios with MMA training programs are in the same situation. They have no place to put their fighters to the test. Between us, we’ve got the network to make it happen. We’ve got the diversity. We’ve got the money.”

Ronin had to slow down the gears churning in his head and focus. “Expenses?”

“Everything fifty-fifty. From the overhead to the venue to the staffing. This first event could be a trial run to see how well we mesh. A lot of the logistics are already in place. It’d just entail swapping a few things out. And you kicking in some cash.”

“I’ll admit you’ve piqued my interest.” Really piqued it. If Ronin couldn’t participate in the fighting world in the cage or host fights in dive bars that catered to a rougher crowd, he could be an active part of it from a different angle. God knew he needed something to occupy himself while he was supposed to sit around twiddling his fucking thumbs.

Blue smiled. “Good. I didn’t mean to steer you away from the real reason I’m here.”

“Let’s cut to the chase. I think we can come to a workable agreement as far as absorbing your dojo into mine, while letting you keep some autonomy. What is your biggest issue right now?”

“I do not own my facility. I moved into the location last year. In the last nine months, I’ve been approached by two guys offering me protection. I initially declined.”

“Let me guess. After declining their offers, your place has been vandalized.”

“Three times. Renter’s insurance didn’t begin to cover the replacement costs. I contacted the rental property company to ask for assistance with paying for new windows, and they informed me anything involving ‘malicious intent’ isn’t covered.”

“Did the protection guys warn you about the vandalism?”

He nodded. “Being from Brazil and growing up on American TV, I thought those types of business practices were for effect. Or they only happened on the East Coast.”

“Sadly, no. How long is your lease?”

“I’ve got one year remaining on it. I’m the only tenant left in the building.”

“Is the building for sale?”

“No, but every other building on the block has changed hands in the last two years. As far as I know, the owners weren’t interested in selling.”

Sounded like the owners were being pressured to sell by a third party harassing the existing leaseholder into breaking the lease and cutting off the owner’s income stream. Easy to hire muscle, use scare tactics and property damage to convince the tenants to leave. He’d seen it happen over and over. And in the not too distant past, he’d been the guy doing the persuading.

“You don’t believe me,” Blue stated quietly.

Ronin glanced up at him. “No, it’s not that. A few organizations around here still get results by those tactics. Are you paying for protection?”

Blue’s face turned red. “I have no choice. But it’s sucking every bit of profit, and I’ll have to close my dojo before too much longer. I’d much rather be under the Black Arts umbrella and pay you rather than lose everything I’ve worked for in the last three years.”

“I understand. Is there a chance the property management company would relax the penalties for breaking your lease?”

“I’ll ask.”

“Let me do some checking around. I know some guys in the business.” Denver mover and shaker Thaddeus “TP” Pettigrew owed him a favor, so the real estate angle would be easy to check.

“You’d do that before we signed any formal agreement?”

“Let’s put it this way: I’ll feel better signing an agreement with you if all of that stuff is already taken care of.” Ronin stood. “Let’s join the tour. And if you’re all right with it, we can get Shiori started on the transitional paperwork.”

“As long as she’s willing to work with Sophia. She handles the business end of ABC.”

“You should know that Shiori is my sister. She’s here temporarily handling some family business and filling in as an instructor.”

Blue grinned again. “A sure sign that this arrangement is meant to be, no? Because Sophia is my sister.”

• • •

THE next evening, Ronin said, “I think I might go back to teaching next week.”

Amery lifted her head from his chest. “I know the bruises have faded, but are you really ready? Or are you just feeling guilty?”

“Teaching is what I do.” Fuck. That’s all they’d let him do.

“What classes are you usurping? Poor Sandan Zach’s women’s self-defense class?”

He slapped her bare ass. “I did my penance teaching you.”

“Hey!”

“Don’t pout, baby.” Ronin dropped a quick kiss on her forehead. “I’d be helping Ito with the younger kids.”

“Why? Aren’t your highly advanced skills wasted there?”

“I should be accessible to all students, not just those in advanced classes. Plus I need to assess all levels more frequently to ensure their skill sets are up to par.”

“Will you have time to do that, given how much time you’ve already committed to the new promotion company?”

Ronin would be going fucking crazy if he didn’t have that. In just one day, he’d expanded on Blue’s original idea and he’d become a little obsessed with it.

“What are you calling the promo company?”

He frowned. “No idea.”

“I have one. My creative little brain has just been cranking.”

“And?”

“What about . . . Black and Blue Promotions?”

Ronin laughed. “That is perfect. Damn, woman, you are brilliant.”

“I know.” Amery’s lips started a southerly path down the center of his chest. She detoured to his right nipple and sucked so hard he nearly bowed off the bed. So when she slid her wet lips across his sternum to his left nipple, he expected the same treatment. But she flicked just the tip of her tongue around the flat disc until it puckered. Then she reconnected with the line bisecting his belly and licked straight down to his cock. Anytime her hot tongue teased his skin, his cock took notice. It’d begun to stir, but was still soft and curled on the inside of his thigh. No sweet nuzzling like he expected. Amery’s mouth enclosed his cock.

That time he did arch up.

She sucked gently as blood filled his shaft. When her mouth couldn’t contain the swelling flesh, she changed her position. She started bobbing her head.

Ronin closed his eyes and groaned. His thought processes grew hazy, and his pulse jumped as her hot, wet mouth worked him. She drew the length in and out rapidly, not sucking, but keeping his shaft slippery. So slippery that moisture seeped down and coated his balls.

Usually he preferred to be in control, even when Amery was blowing him. He liked keeping a tight grip on her hair. He liked pushing his cock to the back of her throat and holding it there when he came. He liked binding her hands and holding her face between his palms as he directed how fast, how hard, and how long he plunged in and out of her addictive mouth.

But he kept his hands by his sides, allowing himself to feel all the nuances of how she wanted to please him. Her soft tongue. The scrape of her teeth. Heat and wetness and pressure.

He tensed when she reached between his legs and fondled his balls. But she didn’t stop there. She rubbed his perineum with her thumb. Up and down until she brushed his asshole. She swept around and around, the wetness making the pucker slippery enough so she could press the digit in slightly.

Jesus, that felt amazing. He’d started to pant as she brought him closer to the edge.

Amery switched her hand position, easing a finger past the sensitized ring and into his ass. She sucked his cock with shorter, tighter strokes, and she rubbed the tip of her finger across his gland.

Ronin felt every other muscle in his body going equally rigid, desperate for the explosion of orgasm. When he glanced down at Amery’s beautiful face, her sexy look of determination had him relaxing into the mattress, allowing her to give him the orgasm rather than chasing after it.

As much as he tried to focus on her, he squeezed his eyes shut in ecstasy as his cock and balls tightened with a warning tingle. Then his ass clamped down on her finger, and liquid heat pulsed out of his dick so violently he felt the pulling sensation in his lower abdomen.

“Fuck. Yes. Jesus, don’t stop.”

Amery kept that magical mouth and finger connection going, dragging out his climax until he saw spots behind his eyes and his entire being floated in a quiet void. As the pulses faded and he became aware of his surroundings, he decided the bliss of orgasm defined a Zen moment.

She removed her finger and her mouth. Took him a second to figure out the vibration on his lower belly was actually Amery’s chuckle.

He grabbed a handful of her hair and caught her attention. “What was that giggle for?”

“I believed you called out nirvana at one point.” She offered him a sly smile and tongued his belly button.

“That it was.” He ran his knuckles down her cheek. “Goddamn, woman, I love you.”

Amery pushed up and away from him. “Of course you say you love me after your dick has been in my mouth and I just blew you to nirvana.”

What the fuck? Rather than call her on her bitchy comment, he calmly said, “I tell you I love you all the time, not just after sex.” He stared at her, letting her unspoken words, words he was so desperate to hear from her, hang in the air between them, almost like a dare. Tell me you love me, Amery. Come on. It’s not that hard.

His response didn’t prompt her to do anything but retreat. She rolled off the bed, slipped on her robe, and announced, “I feel like making popcorn,” and fled from the room.

He resisted all of five seconds before he punched the pillows. Maybe she didn’t love him, but her discounting how he felt about her wasn’t fair and it sure as hell wasn’t happening again.

• • •

NOTHING on the sports channels caught his attention.

Amery wandered in munching on popcorn and plopped beside him. “Anything good on?”

“Not really. Was there something you wanted to watch?”

“What’s on the classic TV channel?”

“I don’t think I can sit through another episode of Bewitched.”

She shot him a sideways glance. “I know you’re secretly hoping Kung Fu is on.”

He groaned.

“Maybe I’ll check out your DVDs.”

That would take her all of two minutes.

So when she was still pacing in front of the bookshelves ten minutes later, he knew she was nervous—which caused his heart to skip a beat. Was she about to tell him that he’d have to make room for her DVDs and stuff when she moved in? “Something on your mind?”

“Yeah. But I feel stupid bringing it up now.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to think I sucked your dick in hopes it’d soften you up.”

“Baby, you sucking my dick makes me harder, not softer.”

“You know what I mean.”

Ronin stood, removed the popcorn bowl from her hands and set it on the table. “No bullshit between us. What’s going on?”

“I need a favor.”

He kept his face blank and banked his disappointment. Why did it always boil down to this? When he’d called TP earlier to ask about the protection business around Blue’s dojo, TP said he needed a favor and insisted on setting up a meeting to discuss it. “What kind of favor?”

“You know those supersexy pictures I took of you blindfolded that day?”

“Like I could ever forget that,” he murmured.

“I know I told you they’d be for my eyes only. But I heard from Cherry Starr, and she wants me to do another cover for her. Evidently the book has been really popular, and she’s decided to write a series. So for the next book, she wants a bound guy on the cover. She isn’t in any rush, so I do have time to set up another photo shoot. But I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask you first.”

No, immediately jumped into his head. Given his level of expertise in two disciplines—jujitsu and rope bondage—it’d be . . . embarrassing if anyone recognized him. Especially if they believed he was submissive behind closed doors.

Letting silence distort the mood hadn’t been intentional on his part. So when Amery said, “Forget it,” and tore out of the room, he realized he’d been so lost in possibilities that he hadn’t answered her.

Of course Amery would assume he’d hedged because he intended to say no.

But don’t you plan to say no?

Ronin found her at the bar fixing herself a cocktail.

“I’m driving you to drink?”

She shook her head. “It’s just been a crazy day. And you dragging me to bed two seconds after I walked in tonight and trussing me up to ravish me made me forget the stress of my day. So now I’m making the stress reliever I intended to.” She pulled out another lowball glass. “Want one?”

“What are you making?”

“A White Russian. The sweet goes very well with the salty.”

“I’ll pass.”

After measuring out the booze, Amery headed to the kitchen, adding ice and cream to the glass. She stirred, sipped, and sighed.

“Look. About the photo for the cover . . .”

She held up her hand. “Forget I mentioned it.”

Ronin ran his hand through his hair. “I didn’t say no.”

“But you didn’t say yes or maybe either. Which sounds a lot like no.” She took another sip of her drink. “It’s fine, Ronin.”

“Where’s your folksy North Dakota–ism that reminds me that what’s good for the goose is good for the gander?” he prompted.

“It had crossed my mind. But I’m not going to harangue you. I’ll find another way. Shouldn’t be hard to find another male model. Of course, whichever young hottie I do find and convince to get half naked in front of me won’t be nearly as hot, sexy, and compelling as you.”

She’d be in the same room with a half-naked guy?

Fuck that.

“It’d actually be a relief to have a rope novice as a model since I’m pretty sure the way I bind him won’t matter. But it’d be cool if you gave me a few tips to put him at ease.” Her gaze went a little . . . dreamy. “Or maybe it’d be easier for him if I blindfold him first. That way he won’t know that I don’t know what I’m doing with ropes.”

His woman really believed he’d allow her to put her hands all over some strange naked guy? And then make the moment even more intimate by binding him?

Fuck that.

Ronin crowded her against the counter. “No. Fucking. Way.”

“You don’t get to decide that.” Amery poked him in the chest. “End of discussion, so back off.”

“How about if I give you a lesson in binding right now?”

She shook her head, but he’d already clamped his hands on her ass and lifted her onto the countertop.

A startled eep escaped her, followed by, “You can’t just—”

“I can, I will, and I did. Don’t argue, or I’ll gag you.”

He reached for the cotton dish towel the same time his other hand latched on to her throat below her jawline. “Stay just like this. Palms flat, wrists together behind you.”

Amery threw her shoulders back and glared at him—but she obeyed him.

“Lose that surly look and get with the program. You brought it on yourself.” Ronin took advantage of her rigid pink nipple peeking out from her robe and sucked it hard while his hands worked. This basic hojojutsu tie was child’s play; he didn’t need to watch as he bound her wrists.

But Little Miss Feisty tested the binding anyway.

He placed her heels on the edge of the counter. She was stable, but it wasn’t a comfortable pose she could relax into.

“Hold still.” Ronin tugged on the ends of her robe tie and pushed her knee out as he wrapped the silk around her ankle. Then he did the same thing on the other side. With the belt anchored in the small of her back. When he looked up at his smart-mouthed lover, her jaw hung open.

“You tied me up that fast?”

“Baby, I am a professional. Technically this is called a crab tie, and your hands should be attached to the ankle binding, but I improvised.”

No defiant look entered her eyes. Just heat.

“Now, if you attempt to move your feet, you’ll just pull yourself forward. Wouldn’t want you to fall off the counter. Not with what I’ve got planned for you.” He permitted a smile. He peeled back the edges of her robe and feasted his eyes on her. Then he flattened his palms on her chest and slowly slid them down her torso. “I love this flush on your skin. Heat and dew. Wonder where else you’re dewy?”

Keeping his gaze fastened to hers, he dragged his thumb up and down her slit. “You wet because you love blowing me? Or because I showed you I can tie you up anytime I want?”

“Both.”

“Good answer.” Ronin brought his thumb to his mouth, sucking her juices. “Tangy. A little salty. Delicious.” He snagged her drink and curbed his smile when her eyes widened. “Didn’t you just say sweet goes well with salty?”

“What are you doing?”

“Adding a little more cream.” He held the glass below her chin and tipped it over her chest.

Amery expelled a loud gasp when the cold drink hit her skin.

The white liquid ran down her body pretty fast but not in the path he wanted. So he poured more.

She gasped louder when the cold drink flowed over her mound and her pussy.

It was tempting to fish an ice cube out of the glass and torture her nipples until they were icy and then suck the sting away with his hot mouth, but he needed to taste her like this.

Ronin tilted the glass one more time. But this time he chased the white line with his mouth. Sucking the tiny bit that’d pooled in the hollow of her throat, straight down between her breasts, over her quivering abdomen. Sucking the sticky cream from her small patch of pubic hair, getting a full taste of her musk sweetened by the drink.

He tongued her clit ruthlessly until the inside of her thighs trembled. Then he spread her pussy lips with his thumbs and buried his mouth in her.

Amery’s soft cries barely registered; he was so lost in sucking every bit of sweetness from her cunt. The more he licked and flicked his tongue over her every soft, sensitive fold and her tight opening, the more cream poured from her.

When she arched hard against his mouth, he pushed open the hood hiding her clit with his teeth and suckled that swollen nub until her entire sex pulsed and she screamed.

And it was the scream and panting moans that had him growling against her throbbing tissues. His cock throbbed in response.

As soon as her orgasm ended, he said, “Baby, look at me.”

She tilted her chin down and opened her eyes.

Ronin pressed his mouth to hers, sharing the taste of her passion and her drink.

Amery licked the inside of his lips. Sucked his tongue. Turning him fucking inside out with the need to have her—be in her, be on her—again and again.

After he broke the lip-lock, he murmured, “You’re so fucking sexy. I can’t get enough of you. Hold on.”

He ditched his pants and turned her so she was completely on the counter. Then he climbed up between her thighs and balanced on his haunches, ignoring the throb in his knee. He scooped her ass cheeks into his hands, keeping her body angled, raising her up just high enough so he could lean forward and lodge his cock into her.

At the first thrust, he watched her, expecting she’d ask if he was in any pain, given their position. But all he saw was dark desire in her eyes. Her tits bounced with every hard plunge.

The quiet between them added to the eroticism. Sometimes silence spoke louder than any play-by-play. They were so in tune—breathing, heart rate, and their movements—that Ronin began a tantric rhythm. Putting only his cock head inside her, then pulling out, then slamming deep and holding himself at full penetration for two seconds. He built that short-long-hold tempo, starting at one stroke and building to nine. By the time they reached the seventh set of nine, they were both covered in sweat and the need for release pulsed in the air.

During the eighth set, Amery made a soft whimper, and Ronin placed his hand on her heart—the anahata chakra.

At that pinnacle moment when they climbed up to the last set of nine, he slid his hand down and stroked her clit.

She shattered.

Being seated inside her to the root, without moving, he felt every contraction of her pussy muscles clear into his balls as she milked his orgasm.

And even in the intense moment with the pulsing and connection consuming him, his head counted to nine.

Nine pulses of her clit beneath his finger.

Nine pulls of her inner muscles.

Nine bursts of heat shooting from his cock.

His head fell back. He seemed to float outside his body, yet he’d never been more grounded.

When his senses returned, he glanced down at her.

She blinked at him with sated, sleepy eyes. “What the hell was that, Master Black?”

Heaven. “Tantric circle of nine.”

Ronin lowered her butt to the counter and broke the connection of their bodies. Then he ran his palms up her torso, gently cupping her breasts. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.” She tried to level out her breathing. “Is there any eastern philosophy or discipline you’re unfamiliar with?”

He swept his thumbs over her nipples. “I lived in a monastery for four years. I studied and trained. That’s all there was to do.”

“That tantric thing cannot be learned from reading a book.”

“Do you really want to talk about those lessons now?” A pierc- ing pain shot through his knee, and he ducked his head to hide his wince, focusing on undoing the knots at Amery’s ankles. “Any pain?” he asked as he gently rubbed her anklebones and her calves.

“No, because I can’t feel my arms.”

He slowly pulled her upright by the shoulders and unbound her wrists. “Tell me when it starts to tingle.”

“Now.”

Fuck. He should’ve paid more attention to—

“Ronin, I’m fine.”

He nuzzled her neck, filling his lungs with the scent of her skin as he rubbed circulation back into her arms. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That was so intense I forgot I even had arms.”

“We were sort of on another plane, weren’t we?”

“You’ve got lots of . . . sex moves that I’ve never heard of, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t that make you want to move in and stay with me forever?”

The way she stiffened beneath him bothered him. He pulled back and looked at her. “What?”

“But I don’t have an encyclopedia of fancy sex tricks to keep you interested in me forever.”

“As long as you’re enjoying what we do together, I don’t care. It’s not a competition. There won’t be a test.” He swept his thumb across her lips. “If we never do anything except make love face-to-face in our bed, baby, I’m good with that. I love you. And you know that’s not just the afterglow of hot sex talking. It’s all me.”

Her big blue eyes softened, but she didn’t respond in kind—either that she loved him or she couldn’t wait to make his bed theirs by moving in. Yet she did wrap herself around him and kiss him with a perfect mix of desire, sweetness, and gratitude.

Since he suspected he had a ways to go in establishing trust between them again, he had to put himself out there first. “So back to our original discussion.”

“Which discussion was that? Because you completely scrambled my brain with your tantric sex moves.”

“About the book cover. I’ll let you use a picture of me, as long as I’m not recognizable.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Amery’s telling smirk ruined her feigned look of surprise. She’d riled him up on purpose, talking about hiring a male model.

His thoughts flashed back to when his ex had pouted and lied to manipulate him. But he couldn’t draw parallels between the two women when they were polar opposites. Amery was a terrible liar—too honest almost to a fault. He couldn’t remember any instance when she’d used manipulation to get her way.

But then, you wouldn’t know until it was too late, would you?

“I promise you won’t regret this.” She leaned forward to hug him and made a sour face. “Ouch. My butt is sticking to the counter.”

“We did make a mess.”

You made a mess.”

“Good thing the cleaning service comes tomorrow.”

Amery lightly whapped him on the chest. “Ronin Black, we are not leaving this for your housekeeper to clean up! That’s just . . .” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re yanking my chain. You’d never leave a mess for someone else to clean up just because you can. You sure don’t act like I expected a billionaire would.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Not hardly. Grab a rag, moneybags, and start wiping.”

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