Amery goes to a self defense class with her employee Molly and meets a man that changes her life, Master Ronin Black. He starts teaching her self defense but he wants more from her. She gives him what he wants. He's controlling but Amery needs him. She feels like he is what she's been waiting for all her life.
Ronin is holding back from Amery but she doesn't know why. Will it come back to bite him in the butt? His past, his fighting and his special skills in the kinky sex dept....will it scare her away?
I loved this story. Ronin is a god and Amery is his match.
From the author:
...a woman's desire to shatter her inhibitions leaves her unprepared for where that erotic journey will take her...
Former small-town girl Amery Hardwick is living her dream as a graphic designer in Denver, Colorado. She’s focused on building her business, which leaves little time for dating—not that she needs a romantic entanglement to fulfill her. When her friend signs up for a self-defense class as part of her recovery after an attack, Amery joins her for support. That’s where she meets him.
Ronin Black, owner of the dojo, is so drawn to Amery that he takes over her training—in public and in private. The enigmatic Ronin pushes Amery’s boundaries from the start, and with each new tryst, Amery becomes addicted to the pleasure and to him. But when Amery senses Ronin is hiding something, she questions her total trust in him, despite the undeniable thrill of his possession...
After they were cleared through security—still sounded bizarre—he pointed to a stocky guy, and that guy waved them over.
As they approached him, Amery checked out the joint. The place had clean lines and neutral colors: gray carpet and white walls—where there were walls. Some of the training rooms were separated by Plexiglas. Since there weren’t any windows along the entire side, the walls were mirrored, creating a fun-house effect. In the center of the room was a guard tower that overlooked the entire space.
The stocky guy did a quick bow to them and offered his hand. “I’m your instructor for the women’s self-defense class. We do use formal titles at Black Arts, so you can call me either Sandan or Sandan Zach.”
Molly introduced herself first.
When Amery gave her name, he frowned. “I don’t remember your application.”
“That’s because I’m a last-minute addition.” She nudged Molly. “I was supposed to be here for support only, but that somehow violates the dojo rules.”
“The rules are . . . precisely the way Sensei wants them.” Zach gestured to the area behind them. “There’s nearly fourteen thousand square feet of training space on two floors, so we can have all student levels training at the same time if we choose. Some of the rooms are open like these. And some on the backside, for the more advanced students, are semiprivate.”
Molly pointed to the watchtower in the midst of everything. “What’s that?”
“The Crow’s Nest. Sensei Black can observe the classes.”
Amery had an image of a grizzled but wise and agile Asian man sitting up there muttering to himself about the lack of discipline in today’s youth.
“We’re happy to have you both at Black Arts,” Sandan Zach said, without looking away from Molly. “Your class is over here. Set your bags along the back wall.”
Their fifteen classmates ranged in age from younger than Molly to a woman in her mid-sixties and all sizes and ethnicities.
One other thing Amery noticed? All the women wore white shirts and black sweatpants or yoga pants. A few stared at her jeans and short-sleeved white blouse.
Sandan Zach clapped his hands. “Listen up, ladies. I’ll do a brief overview of the class, but first everyone needs to remove socks and shoes.”
Amery shot Molly a look, but she’d already started untying her laces. She unzipped her black riding boots and tossed them on top of her purse.
“This class is more involved than the typical women’s self-defense class you take at the Y. Taking charge of your safety is the first step since most violent acts happen one on one. But during this class you will learn together, and part of that is being supportive of each other and helping each other learn.”
“We’ll warm up. Nothing like the rigorous jujitsu warm-ups you’re seeing in other classes, I promise you. So spread out, arm’s length on each side.”
Molly headed for the back row, but Amery snagged her hand. “No hiding, remember?”
“You’re bossy even outside of work.”
But it seemed everyone wanted to be in the front row so they ended up in the back anyway.
Sandan Zach walked a circle around the class members as he gave directions for gentle stretches. Amery wished she had on yoga pants—the jeans were cutting into her every time she moved.
Molly leaned over and puffed. “I thought he said this wouldn’t be a rigorous workout. I didn’t sign up for aerobics.”
“No doubt.” Amery felt a little out of breath herself. “And if he tries to make me run? Sorry, I’m making a break for the door.”
Molly snickered, but she stopped abruptly when Sandan Zach stared at her.
“Before we get started, are there any questions?”
“Yes. Why isn’t she wearing the required uniform?”
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