“Did it bother you?”

Knox had to think about that for a minute. “Maybe at first. But the guys who lived through the horrors of war dealt with the aftereffects for years. After I out-processed, I moved on from being a grunt and haven’t looked back. It put things in perspective for me.”

She made a purring sound when his fingertips brushed the curve of her ass. “Are you in contact with any of your fellow soldiers?”

“I keep in touch with the two guys I worked most closely with during my last enlistment. They’re both working for telecommunications companies.”

“And you’re Shihan at Black Arts.”

“No doubt I have the better job.”

“Were they surprised when you didn’t find a job like theirs?”

“After I got out, I’d decided to live in Denver to be close to my family, but I couldn’t find a job. I ended up working as a security guard and moonlighted at Twisted part-time. That’s where I met Ronin. He offered me a temp position at the dojo as he tested my skills.” Then all that crap happened with Naomi and he moved up to a full-time position at Black Arts.

“How did you keep up with jujitsu training when you were in the army?”

“I was mostly stationed stateside, so I trained at the martial-arts studio in Fort Benning.”

Shiori rolled onto her stomach and looked at him. “Your mom is really proud of your service.”

Knox blushed. “If not for her putting me in jujitsu when I was a surly fifteen-year-old, I probably would’ve gone to jail.”

“I doubt it. You’re too honorable for that.” She leaned over and rubbed her mouth across his nipple. “Let’s play a game, soldier.”

“I guess we’re done talking.”

“I’ve got a better idea on how to use my mouth.”

He groaned. “Is this another one of your rewards?”

“Yes.” An evil laugh drifted up as she scooted her body down the mattress. “Let’s see how long you can stand at attention as I polish your pole.” She settled between his thighs and licked his cock from root to tip. “You up for that?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When she finally let him come, a full hour later, she’d wrung him out so completely he couldn’t even salute.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

ENERGY in the entire dojo had been running high in the two weeks since Maddox had officially rebooted the Black Arts MMA program. Inside the training room “Mad” Maddox would give Sensei Black a run for his money with his intimidating persona. Except where Ronin was icy-eyed and expressed his disapproval with cool detachment, Maddox was hot-tempered and yelled at the top of his lungs if something met with his disapproval. On the second day of training, Knox feared Deacon and Maddox might actually kill each other. But they’d figured out a way to work together.

Fisher and Ito fit right in, and they couldn’t say enough good things about the new trainer. While Knox was relieved things were off to a great start, his fear that his skills weren’t needed in the MMA program had proven true. Maddox asked his opinions on everything—except training. So Knox devoted his time to running Black Arts and working with Blue and Katie on the rescheduled smoker in two weeks.

They’d secured a new sponsor, and that asswipe Steve Atwood had agreed to provide two fighters for the bout. Knox wished Ronin were here so they could both see the look on Steve’s face when the Black Arts fighters made a clean sweep of the fight card on fight night.

But Knox’s great mood vanished the instant he walked into the Black Arts office and saw the man sitting on the edge of Shiori’s desk. Sitting way, way too close to Knox’s woman for his comfort.

He affixed his “fight face” in place before he moved in behind Shiori. That’s when he noticed who the asshole was.

Max Stanislovsky.

One of the richest men in Denver. Ronin’s sometime pal, sometime nemesis. A man with ties to gambling, prostitution, nightclubs, sex clubs, real estate, and construction crews.

Knox didn’t doubt the rumors about Max being a key player in the Russian mob. All the Cold War had done was expunge some of the undesirables from Russia, and they had set up shop in the United States. And unlucky for Coloradans, the population and the climate was reminiscent of Russia, so many of them flocked to the Centennial State.

Ivan had some kind of love-hate relationship going on with his father, but in this case the apple had fallen far from the tree. Ivan was a good guy, a hard worker, and had the potential to do well as a pro MMA fighter, especially now that Maddox Byerly had signed on to train him.