“Bondage suspensions,” she repeated. “As in hanging a person from the ceiling by a rope?”

“By a series of ropes.”

“You’ll tell me to direct my questions to Ronin, but what is he like in his public persona as rope master Ronin when people are watching his every move? Especially since he has the strict ‘no observation’ rule in the dojo?”

Knox looked uncomfortable. “Ronin is a fucking master with ropes. He’s artistic and sensual, unlike some other so-called rope experts, who’ve turned shibari and kinbaku into weird performance art. He’s in high demand as a teacher. So the nights he schedules a demo at the club, it’s usually packed.”

She wanted to ask if Ronin had sex with his models, or if he had sex with certain people at the club because . . . hello, it was a kinky sex club. Why would he be a member if he didn’t want the free sex benefits? “Are you a master with ropes too?”

“I’m better than average because Ronin has mentored me. I don’t teach but I do practice. My area of expertise in the club is different than his.”

“What is your area of expertise?”

Hard blue eyes hooked hers. “Pain. Some members want it and they come to me to dish it out.”

Yikes.

“Ronin asked me to ask you if you’ll make time for him after the demonstration ends.”

“Make time where? At the club?” In front of everyone?

“Either at the club or here, since you’re leaving your things here.”

“Can we see how it goes first?”

Knox frowned.

“I’m afraid to say yes because . . . what if I can’t handle what I see? Not only Ronin’s part, but the rest of the club stuff?”

He studied her for a few moments. “Think of it this way. These members’ choices are not your choices. What you see them doing is no reflection on you, or the type of sex you’re comfortable with. As you’re walking through, realize it is an exclusive club. You may never get to see anything like it again. And more likely than not, you’ll end up aroused by what you see. That’s the hardest part for most people to handle.” He looked at his phone. “We need to get downstairs.”

Amery upended her drink. “Do I need to bring a purse or money or my certificate of clean health or anything?”

Knox grinned. “Nope. Just an open mind.”

* * *

THE driver parked in an underground garage and accompanied them into the building. He and Knox exchanged pleasantries about the packed house for the night, but it meant nothing to her.

The elevator stopped on an unmarked floor. She squinted at the panel. None of the buttons had numbers. The elevator doors opened to a small reception area. The guy behind the desk looked like a Broncos defensive lineman—an armed lineman.

He nodded at Knox and handed Amery a clipboard. “Privacy form. Read it. Sign it. Believe it. Understand if the privacy rules are violated, we will prosecute to the fullest extent of the law. And yes, we have ways of knowing exactly who violates the contract and when. And yes, our legal team has dealt with such matters expediently and with the harshest penalties the legal system allows. Do I make myself clear, Ms. Hardwick?”

“Yes.” Amery took the clipboard and sat on the lone chair in the room to read it. Nowhere on the form did it indicate who owned the business, but she did find the DBA listed as Twisted, so she knew the club had a name. The agreement prevented the signee from discussing the club, its location, its purpose with any persons who weren’t members or on an active guest list status. No exceptions. Members of the club adhered to strict anonymity outside the club—members violating that stipulation would be removed from club membership rolls and prosecuted for breach of contract. No exceptions.

As much as the legal side of this scared her, she signed her name anyway. This would be her only visit to the club and she intended to leave as soon as Ronin finished his demonstration. She passed the clipboard back. Then to her surprise their chauffeur notarized it. Handy.

Then the supersized desk clerk addressed Knox. “You or Master Black can ensure that she will not be unattended at any time?”

Knox said, “I’m here strictly in escort capacity tonight, and as Ronin’s fill-in.”

Fill-in? What was that?

The clerk handed Amery a lanyard with a plastic card affixed to the clip. It read GUEST. He tied a black ribbon around Knox’s biceps. Then he punched a code into a keypad and the chauffeur/notary guy/elevator operator opened the door for them.

Amery tried to act cool, but her heart raced as they stepped through the doorway.

Knox didn’t take her arm. In fact, he hung back to see which direction she’d go. She opted to go right.

The open area looked like a dance floor at any club downtown. High ceilings. No windows. Conversation areas on the outskirts of the floor. She tried not to gawk at the people dancing naked. Or the people with collars on with leashes attached. No one paid attention to her, although a few nodded at Knox.

Once they’d crossed the room, she asked, “Is Ronin already here?”

“Yes.”

“How long until the demonstration starts?”

“Half an hour. Is there something specific you’d like to see?”

“I don’t know what my options are.”

“I’ll give you an overview.”

She pointed at his armband. “What’s that for?”

“To let members know I’m not available tonight.”

“Oh.” She paused. “Is that unusual for you?”

“Very. Come on.”

Knox told her about the club, three levels with a fourth level reserved for private events. Amery didn’t ask what constituted an event.

People roamed the halls. Normal-looking people. Some wore fetish wear, but it didn’t seem as odd as she’d imagined.

Until they reached the next floor. Holy. Fuck. This area was set up like a big barn with stalls. The first four had stationary X’s, which Knox explained were St. Andrew’s crosses. In the first stall a naked woman was secured face-first to the cross. A man, cracking a whip, decorated her skin with welts across her backside from her calves to her shoulders.

Every time she cried out, Amery winced. In the far corner a woman on her knees, arms handcuffed behind her back, gave a blow job. A rough blow job since the guy was slamming his hips and fucking her face, while another guy stood behind them, his dick in his hand as he jacked off.

They continued down the hallway. Before they reached the next stall, she asked Knox, “The rules here are anyone can participate? Is there a hierarchy? Are the members singles or couples?”

“There are single submissives and single Dominants. A single submissive not paired with a Dominant is fair game, which is what submissives want. They negotiate what happens between them. It’s all consensual. Some members come here to swap partners. Some couples join to use the equipment and indulge in themed rooms. Others join because they’re exhibitionists or voyeurs. There are as many different reasons for belonging to the club as there are types of people who belong.”

Amery nodded. She couldn’t imagine dropping to her knees and giving her lover a blow job in public because he demanded it. In private? When Ronin commanded her to do something, it was sexy and thrilling because she knew she’d affected him deeply enough to earn that demand. Made it sweeter and hotter because it was just between them.

The next stall had chains dangling from the ceiling and O-rings embedded into the floor. She thought it was odd that it was unused until she saw the RESERVED sign.

When Knox said, “Are you ready to go upstairs?” in her ear, she jumped.

“Uh. Sure. I don’t suppose there’s a real bar around here?”

“’Fraid not. No alcohol on the premises.”

So all these people acting this obscene way were completely sober.

Don’t do that. Don’t judge them. Not your life, not your business.

But part of her worried about what Ronin might expect from her. Maybe the reason such a hot, sexy, intense guy like Ronin was still single at thirty-eight was that he had kinky tastes that most women couldn’t handle.

Very scary thought.

They stopped by the elevator and Knox stepped in front of her, blocking her from view.

She looked up at him. “What?”

“You need to lose the scowl.”

“I’m scowling?”

“And looking disgusted, which doesn’t go over well here as you can imagine.”

Amery inhaled a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t think I can do this, Knox.”

“Can’t do what?”

“Any of this stuff. Maybe I am a prude. But I don’t ever see myself getting fucked on a pool table in front of a bunch of strangers. I’d be crying for real if I was tied up and being whipped. I’m not saying it’s dirty or bad or wrong, it just isn’t me.”

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.”