Schooled(10)
When their eyes met, a sense of urgency consumed him. He needed her. Needed to remind her how much stronger their connection grew every time he had her bound—which hadn’t been often recently.
Without breaking their eye contact, he shoved her plate aside and said, “You’re done.” He stood, threw a pile of bills on the table, and clasped her hand, towing her out of the restaurant.
They didn’t speak at all during the bus ride, but Ronin rested his palm at the base of her neck. He wanted his hold to impart the calming effect of his touch, and yet remind her that the heavy weight of his hand was as immobilizing as his rope.
As they made the fast walk back to the condo, he couldn’t help but notice the flush on her cheeks, the increased rate of her breathing, and the sheen of perspiration that teased him with her scent.
After he punched in the code and they were inside, Ronin cupped her face in his hands, forcing her attention only to him. “The binding tonight will take place outside on the patio.”
She hesitated a moment before saying, “Okay.”
“I’ll need half an hour to prepare.”
“Okay,” she said again.
“But first I want you to open your present.”
He was a little nervous as Amery delicately slipped the knotted ties down the plain brown paper. She folded the wrapper back to reveal the vibrant material.
Her gaze hooked his. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Open it and find out.”
She ripped into the package and gasped at the floral pattern created in brilliant hues. “It’s a kimono?”
“A yukata. A more casual kimono. I had it modified so it’s easier to put on than the traditional one.”
“And easier to take off,” she murmured, running her finger across the material.
“This fabric is sturdier than silk although it retains the look and feel of it.”
Amery looked up at him. “This is exquisite.”
“It’ll look even more exquisite on you.”
When she shook the garment out, another bundle of fabric tumbled free. “What’s this?”
“The matching robe.” He unfurled the pearlescent fabric that shimmered between pale pink and ivory. “I’ll have you wear the yukata another time. Tonight I want you in this because I want to try something new.”
She smiled at him. “I’m all in for trying something new.”
He hadn’t expected that response. “I promise no pictures.”
“You always want pictures. Which makes me wonder . . . should I be nervous about this new binding?”
“Probably.”
She laughed, as he’d hoped.
“Go on, beautiful, and get ready for me.”
***
Ronin adjusted the ropes dangling from the rafters, rechecking the tension.
He looked around the binding area one last time, compiling a mental checklist. Bamboo pole. Tatami mat. Cushion. Scissors. Water. Blanket. The paper lanterns stationed at various points on the rafters above the patio emitted a soft golden glow, but provided enough light to work by. Luckily the moon was full. He’d already double-checked his ropes and scattered them across the patio.
Once his preparations were complete, he returned inside to the reflection room. He’d grown up with a space like this in his childhood home: a room formed from four sliding walls, empty, save for the small altar. His mother used to send him or Shiori into the reflection room if they’d been fighting. Sometimes she used it when she needed a quiet place to gather her thoughts. With the addition of futons, it served as a guest room. So the space wasn’t solely for meditation or reinforcing a spiritual connection. But that was exactly what it felt like now.
Ronin removed his street clothes and slipped into a white gi. Instead of using one of his official belts proclaiming his jujitsu rank, he tied a han obi around his waist. The informal belt had been crafted from the same fabric as Amery’s yukata. It was a small thing to retain that thread of connection between them, but one he needed. And the bonus? The belt also doubled as a blindfold.
A few katas loosened his muscles. He pulled his hair back, bowed to the altar, and slipped out of the room.
As soon as Ronin stepped onto the patio, the buzz of power sizzled through him upon seeing Amery—his wife, his rope model, his everything—waiting for him on her knees, her head bowed, her hands folded, wearing the clothing he’d had created specifically for her.
She’d twisted her hair up and secured it atop her head, leaving the back of her neck exposed. He longed to rub his mouth on the tiny, sensitive hairs there, where he could gauge how quickly they bristled against his lips, feeling her skin quiver from his touch.
Tonight the stillness in the atmosphere fit his mood, yet even without a breeze the sweet scent of cherry blossoms perfumed the air.