Knox looked confused. “Why did you think it had to be?”
“Ronin is a member. And doesn’t that mean . . . ?”
“You’re here to learn, Amery. Ronin has asked that you watch the demo and then talk to him about it. That’s the only thing you need to concern yourself with tonight.”
So Knox hadn’t denied Ronin participated in scenes like those—but he hadn’t confirmed it either.
“Come on,” Knox said. “The room has probably started filling up.”
The cavernous room had a stage on one end, complete with billowing curtains. A lone chair sat close to the stage, with other chairs in a semicircle behind it. People were spread out against the back wall for the best vantage point. Conversation was hushed. The vibe was different in here than the other scenes. No props decorated the stage.
Knox pointed to the chair. “You’ll be front and center.”
“But I don’t want to sit in the front. I’d rather be in the back so I’m not a distraction.” She paused. “Not that he’d be distracted by me, but why take the chance?”
“Because that’s how Ronin set it up and where he expects you to be.”
Feeling conspicuous, Amery sank into the chair. Knox stood beside her and scanned the crowd. When the lights dimmed he squeezed her shoulder and disappeared.
She awaited the dramatic flair that would announce Ronin’s entrance: smoke machines, swirling colored lights, epic music. Everything went dark except for the stage.
Here we go.
A woman wearing a white robe entered stage right. She didn’t drop to her knees. She stopped and kept her head bowed as she waited.
When Ronin moved across the stage, Amery could feel the energy crackling from him. He wore white gi pants and a white tunic that set off his coloring to perfection. Were his eyes warm like topaz? Or that molten color of blackstrap molasses that indicated his arousal?
Ronin dropped coils of rope at the woman’s feet. Then he swept her long brown hair aside and murmured in her ear.
Goose bumps cascaded down Amery’s skin. She knew exactly how it felt to have Ronin’s warm lips in that spot. How his deep voice seemed to burrow beneath her skin.
Then Ronin pulled the silk sash from the robe and folded it in half, using it to secure the woman’s hair. She kept her head bowed. Ronin slipped his fingers beneath the collar of the robe, pushing it off her shoulders. The satin material caught in the bends of her elbows before he straightened her arms and the robe pooled on the floor.
The woman was naked. Her thighs were a bit heavy, her arms thin. Her belly pouched out. She had several tattoos on her arms and a flower above her pendulous br**sts. An enormous bright blue bird of some kind decorated the outside of her right thigh from her outer knee to her hip. Everything else about her was ordinary.
Why did Amery feel the need to scrutinize this woman’s body?
Because Ronin’s hands would be all over it. She had to convince herself this woman was nothing special. Just a random model plucked out of this club specifically for this purpose.
So why did the woman’s head fall back when Ronin spoke to her? That’s when Amery suspected this woman was no stranger to Ronin’s touch. She knew exactly what was coming.
A jealousy that she’d never experienced rocketed through her.
Then her lover was running his hands down the woman’s chest. Cupping the weight of her br**sts in his palms and moving south to map the curves of her hips. He reached for the coil of rope and retreated to stand behind her.
The rope Ronin used was vivid blue. First he turned her so her back was to the audience, allowing everyone to see how expertly he immobilized her wrists after pinning her forearms together. Then he faced her forward.
Amery watched Ronin winding the rope, his fingers connecting with the woman’s skin on every pass. She felt the gentle scrape of his calluses. When he circled the next section of rope around the women’s midsection, Amery’s abdomen contracted as he wound it tighter. Then he crossed the ropes over the model’s br**sts, compressing the flesh, and Amery felt the air leaving her lungs as he pulled the ropes almost to the point of pain.
All eyes were focused on the woman. Her body decorated with crisscrossing ropes and knots, her rapid breathing, sweat shining across her chest.
Just for an instant it wasn’t some nameless woman onstage. When she lifted her head, Amery saw her own face.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THEN Ronin spoke to the audience. “Feel free to take a closer look at this shibari technique called ‘zigzag.’ The model has consented to be touched as you examine the tying techniques.”
Holy shit. The woman had agreed to let strangers touch her without restriction?
“No questions directed to me, please. Admire the beauty of the canvas and not the painter.” Then he disappeared into the shadows.
The crowd swarmed the woman. The last thing Amery saw was an expression of bliss on the woman’s face as she gave herself over to the touch of hands.
Knox crouched in front of Amery. “Don’t you want to look?”
She shook her head.
“Why not?”
Don’t tell him. She let her hair fall over her face, hoping it hid her blush.
“Amery. This is an important part of who Ronin is. That’s why you’re here. Don’t you want to witness his mastery?”
She lifted her head and wished she was confessing this to Ronin. “No. I don’t want to see Ronin’s mastery with erotic bondage on her body. I want to see it on mine.”