Amery laughed. “Your life really must suck big hairy donkey balls if the only way you get your kicks is by spying on other people.”
“Ronin and I never had to go out to have fun,” Naomi cooed.
Don’t fall for her stupid taunts. But that didn’t mean she’d allow herself to be verbally assaulted. “That’s right; you preferred to go to the club on your own without Ronin. How did that work out for you?”
“Fine for several years. How long have you been with him?”
Amery ignored the last comment and focused on the first part. “Fine? Really?” She leaned closer. “Oh, right, then he figured out that you were desperate to be whipped and humiliated before some strange man f**ked you. No wonder Ronin dumped your dumb ass.”
The crack across Amery’s face landed so hard it snapped her head back. Before the shock registered, she saw that hand flying toward her face again.
She reacted instinctively. She grabbed Naomi’s wrist and twisted her arm, standing up to put her body weight into it. Then she kicked the back of Naomi’s knee. As soon as the woman lost her balance, Amery was on her, bringing her to the ground. Keeping Naomi’s arm behind her back, she pushed the side of her face into the ground and stepped on her other hand.
Naomi screamed.
When bar patrons circled them, Shiori warned them off.
“You disgust me, and that was even before I met you in person,” Amery said with pure venom. “Stay the f**k away from Ronin. Go back to whatever hellhole you climbed out of. You’re a f**king idiot for what you did to him, and that eats at you, doesn’t it? Knowing what your big mouth and your greedy pu**y cost you. No one cares about you anymore. Out of sight, out of mind, bitch. And if you ever touch me or what’s mine again?” She leaned down to whisper, “I’m from North Dakota. Which means I know how to use a goddamn gun.” Amery released her, but she backed away slowly, keeping an eye on Naomi in case she tried to attack her.
A heavyset Japanese man cut through the crowd and helped Naomi to her feet.
Amery and Naomi glared at each other, hatred burning the air between them.
A hand landed on the back of Amery’s neck. With adrenaline coursing through her, she just about started throwing elbows, when his hard body pressed against hers.
Ronin.
Naomi’s eyes stayed on Ronin. Her lip curled when he placed a soft kiss on Amery’s burning cheek. “You’ll never keep him.”
“Luckily he doesn’t want to be a kept man.”
Her face turned red and she shook with rage.
“Oh, and for the record? I am Ronin’s rope model. His only rope model. In private and in public. Someone at the club fed you what you wanted to hear. So next time get your facts straight before you start offering your”—Amery gave Naomi a sneering head-to-toe perusal—“second-rate services to my man. We will be doing a demonstration soon. And trust me; it’ll be something they’ll be talking about for years to come.”
Ronin’s hand tightened on the back of her neck.
Shiori stepped forward. “And also for the record?” She waggled her cell phone. “You’re not the only one with videotape capabilities. If a single image from tonight ever shows up anywhere—and trust me; I’ll know since I have teams of computer techs who live for this kind of shit—I will upload this to every media outlet. You’re done f**king with my family forever, Naomi.”
Her bodyguard or whatever he was stepped between them and ushered Naomi out.
After Naomi disappeared into the crowd, Shiori launched herself at Amery. “You are the shit! We are drinking to celebrate.”
“She’s had plenty to drink. I’m taking her home.”
Before Amery could remind Ronin he didn’t speak for her, Deacon tugged her away from Ronin and hugged her.
“I am so freakin’ proud of you, darlin’! You reacted to the situation calmly and showed adaptability. Score one for Black Arts and the girl who paid attention in class.”
“Don’t you mean the flavor of the month who paid attention in class?”
“I only said that to get you to punch harder.”
“You are a sadistic ass**le.”
“Yep, but it worked, didn’t it?”
Ronin gently maneuvered Amery away from Deacon and slanted her head back to scrutinize the raised welt on her face.
“I’m fine.”
His eyes were black with fury. “She marked you.”
“I marked her back worse.”
“We need to get you home and ice this before it swells.”
“Killer here,” Deacon said slyly, “ain’t leavin’ until we get to toast her victory. The girl deserves it.”
“One drink.” Then Ronin hauled her body against his, right there in the middle of the bar, and pressed kisses over every inch of the red mark. Twice.
After the toast, Ronin towed her to the dance floor. He entwined their bodies, and they swayed to the sultry song. He kissed her with sweet heat and the urgency that made her girl parts tingly and her panties slick.
“I’m sorry you had to deal with her.”
“I’m not. Now she knows I’m not afraid of her.” She nuzzled his neck and inhaled Ronin’s scent: salt and clean cotton. “How much did you see?”
“All of it. Deacon kept me from jumping in. I saw some of the self-defense training stuck with you.”
“I can’t believe I won my first fight.”