“No. I was just helping out. Sometimes I fail to see the differences between BJJ and traditional jujitsu.”

“Superior training in BJJ,” Blue said.

“Prove it.” Ronin’s gaze moved over Blue. “You’re dressed.”

“You’ve got a dangerous look in your eye, my friend.”

“Don’t want to grapple? Fine. Let’s fight. Give me a chance to reclaim my honor.”

Blue snorted. “Your honor isn’t in question. Just your sanity.”

Ronin had reached that point of a reckless high. “If you’re afraid to fight me, Curacao, say so.”

“I am not afraid. And you’ve just gone grappling rounds with both of my top instructors. I hardly think this is the time to offer challenges.”

“Or maybe, with me being tired out, it’ll be a fair fight for a change.”

That got Blue’s back up just as Ronin expected it would.

“I knocked you out last time we fought.”

Ronin shrugged. “Lucky shot.”

Blue spoke in Portuguese to Gil and then he faced Ronin. “I’ll need to warm up while it looks like you could cool down.”

Ronin’s adrenaline spiked again, and he had a difficult time standing still.

By the time they met in the ring, gi tops gone, gloves on, mouth guards in, Ronin’s pulse was tripping triple time.

“Amateur parameters?” Terrel asked, serving as referee.

They both nodded.

“You know the rules.”

Ronin came out swinging, trying to keep this fight off the ground so he could hear the satisfying smack of his fist on flesh. He let fly and punched Blue in the face.

Just like that son of a bitch did to Amery today.

What kind of sick motherfucker hit a woman? His cross jab landed on Blue’s ear and knocked him back a step.

Ronin kept coming. A knee jump that connected to Blue’s chin followed by a spinning back elbow that caught Blue in the shoulder.

And when Blue went for the takedown, Ronin relished it and allowed himself to be brought down hard. He got in two head punches before performing a rolling press to get out of half guard.

Blue wasn’t expecting that. Or the side mount that allowed Ronin a perfect gut punch.

Just like that son of a bitch did to Amery today.

What kind of sick motherfucker hit a woman? He angled his hand and pummeled Blue—from his chest to his chin.

Terrel yelled, “Time!”

Ronin rolled to his feet and walked to his corner, mopping his face with a towel and taking out his mouth guard for a second. He leveled his breathing and scrolled back through the fight, trying to remember his opponent’s weaknesses. He wasn’t interested in a tap out; he wanted the fight to go all three rounds. He wanted to deliver pain.

So when the second round started, Ronin didn’t see Blue, his business partner, he saw . . . red.

He became methodical in his fury. Cunning. Able to keep his opponent on his feet until that moment he charged, and they hit the mat with a bone-jarring whump. Then he was fighting for dominance. Keeping legs and arms in constant motion. Getting away from his opponent’s hold by utilizing the running sweep just as the referee yelled, “Time!”

Ronin was starting to feel exhaustion set in as the third round started. Which is probably why his opponent was able to connect with a side kick that caught him in the gut and sent him flying against the net. Pissed off, he charged, knocking him to the mat with a wrestling takedown.

Once Ronin was on top, he utilized jab after jab, feeling a burst of satisfaction at seeing the blood . . .

“Stop! Omigod, Ronin, stop it right now!”

He was abruptly yanked upright. Two steel bands circled his upper body, and he welcomed the chance to rest.

Then Amery was in his face.

Amery?

What the fuck was she doing in the goddamn cage?

Her face looked like she’d gone a round.

Then he remembered and his stomach clenched. That burst of rage exploded inside him again. My fault, my fault, my fault. Baby, I’m sorry.

Amery placed her hand on his heart. “Ronin. It’s okay. I’m okay. Don’t do this. You’re not supposed to do this.”

He glanced at his opponent—holy shit, that was Blue—holding a bloody towel to his face as he sat in the middle of the practice ring.

What the fuck had he been thinking?

His mouth guard fell out when he started to speak. “Blue. Jesus. I’m so sorry.”

Blue rose to his feet with a grunt and shuffled over. His gaze slowly roamed over Amery’s face, and he murmured something in Portuguese. Then his eyes met Ronin’s. “I don’t blame you for the anger, my friend. But now we are even for our first fight.”

While Ronin’s lungs billowed, fighting for more air, his eyes followed Blue’s progress out of the room.

“I’m gonna let go of you now,” Knox said.

“Amery, baby, step back in case I fall.”

The woman didn’t budge. “Then I’ll catch you.”

He just about lost it again right then.

• • •

AMERY watched Ronin closely. He didn’t act like he’d gone three rounds with Blue. Evidently he’d gone six grappling rounds with two other ABC black belts before that. Seeing the man was still standing spoke volumes about his strength.

And about his heart.

He didn’t speak until they were in the private elevator. “How’d you know?” Ronin asked her.

“Blue sent Gil to find Knox when the fight started. Knox came and got me.”

“I’m sorry. You didn’t need to see that—or deal with me after what you’ve been through today.”

Amery pressed her cheek to his still sweaty chest. “You put yourself through that because of me. Did it help?”

“Some.”

“Did you get hit in the head?”

Ronin kissed her crown. “No. I just needed . . .”

“You don’t have to explain. I accept all parts of you, sweetheart.” She brushed her lips across his pectoral. “Even the parts I don’t understand. But that doesn’t mean I can’t worry you took it too far.”

He said nothing.

The elevator door opened to the penthouse, and she stayed glued to his side, even when he tried to shake her free.

“Look, Amery, I need a shower.”

“So do I. I’ll scrub your back; you scrub mine.”

Once they were in the master bathroom together, not happily, according to Ronin’s expression, she realized in all the times and all the places they’d had sex, they’d missed the shower.

The water kicked on. Steam filled the air. Ronin had been in the glass enclosure for a couple of minutes before she slipped in, plastering her body to his.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” he said, vigorously shampooing his hair.

“No, you won’t.” Nestling her face against his chest, she ran her fingertips up and down his sides.

“Amery—”

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“What? I’ve looked at you.”

“Not since earlier. Right after you saw—”

Ronin whirled around and faced the water. Rivers of bubbles raced down the hard planes of his shoulder blades and arrowed into the dip in his spine, between his buttocks.

Wasn’t like him to be intentionally rude, but turning his back to her seemed dismissive.

Amery snagged her loofah. Using the bubbles still coursing down his back, she began to draw small circles from his left shoulder to his right. His golden skin didn’t have any freckles or moles. No past or present blemishes that marred his muscled flesh. He had a few scars here and there. But mostly he was just beautiful.

And that ass. The man had an ass to die for. Not too much of a bubble butt, not too flat, those taut muscles creating a perfect mix of round and hard.

In a split second, Amery went from ogling his ass to ogling his cock.

His fully erect cock.

She glanced up at him.

But his eyes wouldn’t meet hers. They were too busy assessing the marks and bruises on her face. “Did you put ice on your eye to keep the swelling down?”

“Really, Ronin? I’m naked, touching your naked body, and you’d rather swap first aid tips?”

His eyes were so bleak when he finally looked at her.

Amery moved forward until his cock brushed her belly and her nipples touched his chest. “You’re failing my test.” He didn’t retreat, which was a good sign.

“What test is that?”

“You asked me to move in with you. And my answer will be a solid no if you deny me shower sex whenever I want it.”

“All it will take for you to move in with me is one round of shower sex?”

She twined her arms around his neck. “Yes. We’ve never done it in your shower. Maybe the reason is because your technique is lacking or something. So I can’t fully commit to living with you unless I’m assured you are up for getting down and dirty when we’re getting clean in the shower.”

“I feel dirty right now.”

Not the type of answer she wanted. “Talk to me.”

Ronin rested his forehead to hers. “I hate that someone hurt you.”

“I hate that you decided to punish yourself for someone hurting me. You could offer to kiss it and make it better.”

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you if I kiss you.”

“So pin me against the shower wall and fuck me. Kiss me next time. And the time after that. And talking hurts more than anything because my teeth rub—”

“On the underside. Then your tongue keeps going to that sore spot and making it worse.” He feathered kisses over the side of her mouth that wasn’t swollen. Then he lightly slipped the tip of his tongue across the seam of her lips, tasting the bruised skin on the inner rim, showing utmost tenderness.

Then he was backing her into the tile wall.

Steam swirled around them. Water spattered against his back.