Melt Into You

“Daniel,” she demanded, trying to keep her voice low enough so that it wouldn’t garner the attention of the people at the other tables. “You can’t actually expect me to go to this place.”

He frowned. “Look, if you go on the tour and decide not to participate in anything, then take the weekend to enjoy the scenery and the cabin. It’s beautiful out there and surrounded by vineyards. Plus, I think they do have a masseuse on staff if you really want to do the spa thing. I think the break will be good for you regardless.”

“And Daniel and I are going to be doing press for the next few days. If you’re on a ‘spa’ weekend, it will save you from having to be a part of it,” Marcus added.

She kept her eyes on them and gulped the last of her champagne, shocked to find herself actually considering the whole thing.

A weekend away from the press—and the boys, for that matter—did sound kind of tempting. And she hated to admit it, but for some reason, the whole celibacy thing was suddenly driving her mad. Going solo with her vibrator hadn’t fixed anything. In fact, it’d only made her fantasize and want sex more. It was as if seeing Jace again had tripped some wire inside her.

She blew out a long breath. She could throw herself into her work like she had planned, but deep down she knew this restlessness wasn’t going to go away so easily. Wasn’t this what she’d really been yearning for? A bit of physical indulgence without all the complications.

And at least at this place the guy would know she wasn’t cheating, but doing it with her fiancé’s consent. That helped. Felt less seedy to do it under the pretense of being kinky instead of being a lying cheat.

Maybe if she could have a real live man to warm her bed for a few days, she could cleanse her mind of these stupid Jace fantasies. She’d been infatuated with him when she was a teenager, weaving daydreams about what it would be like to be with him. Apparently her mind had gone straight back to that old place—forgetting how awful it had been after she’d actually gotten what she thought she wanted. Stupid.

She needed an exorcism. And this might be just the thing to do it. She grabbed the envelope off the table and nodded at the guys. Resolved.

“Okay, I’ll go. But”—she jabbed a finger at Marcus then Daniel—“if this turns out to be creepy or gross in any way, I’m holding both of you responsible. I will seriously dig out all those toys I know you guys have and beat you with the most painful ones.”

Marcus snorted. “Daniel might actually enjoy that.”

She rolled her eyes.

Daniel ignored Marcus’s comment and smiled at her. “Happy birthday, sweets.” He lifted his coffee cup. “Here’s hoping you have fun. It’ll be like losing your virginity all over again.”

Oh, God, she hoped not. Losing it the first time had been the worst mistake she’d ever made.

SEVEN

Evan’s palms were damp against the arms of the overstuffed chair as she waited for the owner of The Ranch to meet with her. The limo drive to the place had been long, and as the minutes had slipped away, so had her resolve.

She glanced around the well-appointed sitting room, trying to focus on anything but her reasons for being here. Dark, rustic furniture, wood floors, artwork displaying Texas’s varied landscapes, and a large stone fireplace, which she was sure was more for show than practicality in this climate. If she didn’t know better, she would’ve guessed she was in some high-end ski resort and not a retreat specializing in kink.

She tilted her head back and groaned. This was stupid. Ridiculous. She wasn’t the type of person to go to a sex resort. Was she really that desperate? She’d lived without sex for over a year. Why was it suddenly such a big deal?

There could only be one reason.

Goddamn Jace. He’d always been able to stir up that part of her without trying. Even when she’d first met him and hadn’t totally recognized the feeling as desire, she’d been drawn to him, wanted to be in his sphere of attention as much as possible. He had a way of making her feel like she was the only one in the room, and after years of being invisible to everyone around her that feeling had been heady, addictive. She should’ve been immune to it by now. But after a few seemingly harmless touches on that stage, Jace had flipped the switch and had her engines firing on all cylinders again. Man, she was screwed.

A massive wooden door on the opposite side of the room eased open, and an impossibly tall man with wavy dark hair stepped inside. He gave her a smile that seemed to warm the whole room. “You must be Ms. Kennedy.”

The deep twang in his voice matched the cowboy boots peeking out of the bottom of his faded jeans. The image totally didn’t fit with what Evan had imagined the owner of this type of resort to look like. She hadn’t expected head-to-toe leather or anything, but a handsome cowboy hadn’t been on her radar of possibilities either.

She smiled. “That’d be me. But please, call me Evan.”

He crossed the room in two long strides and put his hand out to shake hers. “Welcome to The Ranch, Evan. I’m Grant Waters, the owner and operator.”

She shook his hand, hoping he didn’t notice just how sweaty her palm was. “Nice to meet you.”

He held her hand for a moment longer, holding her gaze, no doubt evaluating her, and then stepped back to sit on the couch across from her. He crooked a thumb at the door. “Would you like something to drink? We have everything but alcohol here.”

No alcohol? Well, so much for plan A on how she was going to get up enough nerve to do this. She shook her head. “No thanks. I’m fine.”

“So, I hear your fiancé surprised you with a membership.”

She crossed her legs to keep her knee from bumping up and down with nerves. “Um, yes. I’d never even heard of this place until tonight.”

“Well, we don’t exactly advertise.” He braced his forearms on his thighs, leaning forward a bit. “Interesting choice of a gift—to give you a membership and not get one for himself. Any ideas on why he would do that?”

The timbre of his voice was low, seemingly casual, but she didn’t miss the sharp glint in his eyes. This man was making sure she was on the up and up. She squirmed a bit in her seat. Despite how often she had to do it, she hated lying, especially to someone who looked like he could smell bullshit from thirty paces. She scrambled for some plausible explanation. “I . . . Well, I haven’t been all that sexually adventurous in my life, and I think he’s worried if I don’t sow my oats or whatever, I’ll always wonder after we’re married.”

Grant seemed to chew on that for a moment. “Just because you get married doesn’t mean you’re locked down to non-adventurous sex. Lots of couples come here for ménage or to switch partners. Or even if they only engage with each other, there are lots of things a couple can do between themselves to spice things up.”

She wet her lips thinking of threesomes, couple swaps. The ideas should have appalled her, but instead her body awakened as all kinds of illicit images flooded her mind. “Daniel’s not exactly into any of that stuff.”

Grant gave a sage nod. “Ah, I see. Vanilla guy marrying a girl who may not be so traditional.”

She sighed. “I honestly don’t know if I’m traditional or not. I haven’t really explored very much.”

His lips curved into a kind smile, one that eased the tension that had filled the room a few seconds before. “So what are you hoping to experience here, Evan?”

She twisted her engagement ring round and round on her finger. What was she hoping to experience? She’d had naughty fantasies in her life—who hadn’t? But what would she actually want if giving carte blanche? “I’m not sure.”

He rubbed a hand over his five-o’clock shadow, considering her. “Why don’t we walk around the main building? I’ll show you some of the activity rooms and we can see what appeals to you. Maybe it’ll help us tease out what desires are hiding in there.”

She smiled. “Okay, that sounds good.”

A few minutes later, Grant led her up a flight of stairs and into a long, quiet hallway. Sconces provided soft lighting, but the maroon walls and dark wood floors gave the impression of entering a secret lair. She had the urge to whisper her question, but the guy was so damn tall he probably wouldn’t hear her up there in the stratosphere. “So no one’s here right now?”

“No, we close a few days once a month to do general maintenance. Everyone will start arriving tomorrow.” He slipped a hand onto her lower back and eased her forward. “Go ahead. Each window gives a view into a different room.”

She took a few steps and turned to look through the first large window that flanked the right side of the wall. A dreary, stone-walled dungeon, complete with manacles and a host of other tools she didn’t recognize came into view. If not for the little security camera tucked into the upper corner of the room, the place could’ve fit into any ancient castle. “Wow, this looks authentic.”

Grant stepped up next to her. “As I’m sure you can imagine, this is one of the more popular rooms since so many of our guests practice BDSM. We have a number of dungeon areas throughout the resort, including a few larger ones for group play.”

She nodded, anxiety twining through her.

“This one makes you nervous.”

She peeked up at him, surprised by his spot-on assessment. “A little. Not sure I’d want to jump right into that.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough.”

They walked past a few other themed rooms—a doctor’s office, a classroom, a barn, a decadent boudoir, a strip club scene complete with a pole. The sheer level of detail of each room boggled her mind. They were not fooling around here. Some big money had been spent.

Every scene affected her on some level as her mind automatically placed her in each fantasy. The naughty nurse. The stripper. Her skin had flushed well past the point of comfort as they traveled down the hallway. They crossed in front of the window to the next room, and her heart picked up speed.

She stared at the mock police station setup. The desk. The jail cell behind it with a narrow bed. What would it be like to have a guy play bad cop? To handcuff her and have her at his mercy? To pass her off to his partner to share her?

The vision of two cops hauling her into the room, arresting her with plans for their own satisfaction, filled her head. Two above-the-law officers handling her however they pleased. Bending her over that desk and shoving her skirt over her hips, taking her from behind while the other used her mouth for his pleasure.

Whoa. Where had that come from? She tried to wet her lips, but her mouth had forgotten how to make spit; all the moisture in her body had rerouted much, much lower. Jesus, what was wrong with her? That shouldn’t turn her on.

Grant’s voice was like dark whiskey as he leaned closer to her. “Tell me why this one appeals to you.”

“How do you know—”

“Darling, you’re breathing faster, your face is flushed, and your nipples are so hard, you’re getting me hot and bothered.”

She ducked her head, wanting to cover her face with her hands, but he put a finger under her chin, forcing her face toward him. “No shame here, Evan. You’re not going to get judgment from me or anyone else who comes here.”

“It’s just . . . I . . . ,” she said, stumbling over her words.

“You feel uncomfortable that this turns you on,” he said, his tone gentle. “This room is usually used for scenes that involve power play.”

“Is that a fancy way of saying ‘pretend rape’?” she asked, her stomach knotting.

He frowned. “No, not at all. What’s speaking to you is not a rape fantasy. Rape means non-consensual, and I doubt you desire a true loss of consent.”

She shuddered. “No way.”

“So, it’s a dominance/submission fantasy. A cop is a classic role of authority and dominance, the prisoner the counterbalance to that. It’s role-playing mixed with D/s—like most of these rooms. Nothing to be ashamed of.” He laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “As long as everyone is aware of the risks and it’s consensual, you can embrace whatever desires you have here. Even the dark ones.”

She nodded, absorbing the power of his words, the freedom of such a concept. Maybe this was the answer to her present situation. Exploring her most forbidden fantasies in a no-strings-attached, safe environment, while still keeping her comfortable situation at home.

She cleared her throat. “So does this mean I should try the BDSM route?”

“I would say it’d be a good place to start,” he said, amusement glinting in his eyes. “The important question is, in your fantasy, which role are you playing? A cop or the prisoner.”

Her eyebrows scrunched. Huh. She hadn’t even considered being in the cop role. That didn’t seem nearly as enticing. She glanced up at him. “The prisoner.”

He smiled. “Well, that answers a lot. I think The Ranch is going to be able to provide exactly what you need.”

“Really?”

“No doubt,” he said, ushering her back toward the door they’d come in originally. “And I already know a few members who could be perfect at providing it for you.”

Anticipation rippled through her. This was either going to be the most exciting or the most idiotic decision she’d ever made.

Unfortunately, based on her track record with men and sex, odds weren’t in her favor.

EIGHT

Jace tilted back his root beer and watched as other members started to drift into the main room. It would probably be a busy weekend considering The Ranch had been shut down for a few days this week.

Andre flipped through the packet of papers he’d picked up for them at the door. “There are five new female subs tonight. Well, Tessa isn’t new. She apparently had a falling out with her boyfriend and wants a new master.”

Jace set his bottle on the table. “Are the other four guests or new members?”

“Two guests, two new members. So only two are going through the mandatory public display of submission,” Andre replied, still going through the pages. “Are you up for that tonight?”

Jace shrugged. “I’m not a big fan of demanding submission before I’ve even talked to the chick.”

Andre chuckled. “Conversation, then fucking. Got it. You’re such an old-fashioned guy, Jace.”

“Bite me.”

Andre cocked his head, his smile challenging. “That could be arranged. But only if you beg.”

“Uh-huh. Why don’t you hold your breath and wait for that to happen?” Jace had never been one for limits and labels, so he had no issue being sexual with Andre within the ménage dynamic. But after living a childhood with a father who dictated every damn thing in Jace’s life, he didn’t do submissive. “Just tell me about our two possibilities.”

Andre turned the page. “Okay, candidate number one has been in a D/s relationship twice before, but is currently single. She has very few limits and is really into pain play. Open to ménage. She’s hoping to find a long-term master but is fine with short-term things as well.”

Jace leaned back in his chair and grimaced. “Ooh, I don’t know.”

“Yeah, if she wants serious pain stuff, neither of us is the right kind of dom for that.”

“Plus, the open-to-relationship ones always have an agenda. Even if they say they don’t. I’m not here to spend the weekend cuddling and getting to know each other.” He didn’t come to The Ranch looking for relationships. He didn’t go anywhere looking for that.

Andre smirked. “You know, not every woman here is out to trap you with her white picket fence. You’re not that great of a catch, anyway. Now me, on the other hand . . .”

Jace flipped him off. He knew Andre was open to finding a steady relationship eventually, but his friend’s bisexuality and penchant for ménage tended to get in the way of any lasting plans. It was only a matter of time before Andre would figure out that the whole “till death do us part” thing wasn’t meant for people like them. Plus, why put your heart in someone else’s hands and give them the power to crush you?

Jace had learned his lesson on that one and didn’t need a refresher course. D/s would never again be anything more than fun and fucking for him. Period. “Just tell me about the other woman, smartass.”

Andre turned another page, reading for himself before saying anything. A smile crept to his lips. “Here we go. This woman is a D/s virgin. Shows tendencies toward the sub role and is looking to explore that. Grant wants her to have a master who has gone through the full training here—score one for you. She has a cop fantasy—score one for me. Not seeking anything permanent because she’s already in a committed relationship.”

“Uh-oh, is she married?”

He shook his head. “Engaged, but it says she’s here with her partner’s consent.”

Jace leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, sure she is.”

“What, you think she’s lying?”

“If she’d been married for a few years and was doing it with consent, I may be able to buy it. You know, getting bored, wanting to branch out. But engaged? That’s when people are shitfaced in love with each other. No dude willingly lets the girl he’s engaged to go fuck around on him on her own. Could you imagine Reid sending Brynn out here by herself to fool around?”

“Reid would burn the place down first. But you never know. I’ve heard some guys get off on that whole girl cheating on them thing. Cuckoldry or whatever it’s called.”

Jace sniffed. Maybe guys who’ve never actually had a woman step out on them could get off on that, but he knew there was nothing remotely sexy about the humiliation of the real thing.

Andre lifted his hand at someone behind Jace and waved him over. Jace turned in his seat to find Grant sauntering their way.

“Evening, fellas.” The owner shook each of their hands. “Good to see y’all out here. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, things have been crazy,” Jace said. “But we figured we’ve earned a break.”

“So what can I do for ya?” Grant asked, turning to Andre.

“This new member, Sasha. Her bio says she’s engaged but is here with the guy’s permission. How do we know that’s true?”

The corner of Grant’s mouth hitched up. “I don’t have them put anything on that sheet that I haven’t verified. It’s unusual, but the fiancé is actually the one who purchased the membership for her as a gift. Apparently, he prefers vanilla, so he’s letting her work a few kinks out of her system before they get married.”

Jace snorted, almost choking on his drink. “Seriously?”

“You bet.”

Jace set his bottle down. “Is the guy an idiot? If this woman discovers that she truly is a sub, she’s not going to want to go back and be vanilla for the rest of eternity.”

Grant shrugged. “I know that. And you two know that. But I figure it’s better for them to find that out before they take the plunge instead of after.”

“Well,” Jace said, “you’re better than anyone I know at determining it. Is she really a sub or just playing around?”

“She’s sub. I’d bet the vineyard on it.”

Andre grinned. “Guess we found our girl for the night.”

“Ah, fellas, not so fast,” Grant said, tapping the papers on the table. “You must’ve not read all the way down. She checked no for ménage.”

“You’ve gotta be freaking kidding me,” Jace said, grabbing the packet to read it for himself.

“You could always take her on yourself,” Grant suggested, a hint of challenge in his eyes. “She’s over there in the back corner chatting with the other available subs.”

Jace grimaced, the idea holding no appeal. Since his divorce, he hadn’t had any interest in taking on a sub solo. One-on-one just felt too serious, too intense. He came here to have fun and ménage ensured that things stayed light. “We’ll just find someone else.”

“Have a nice night, guys. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Grant said, moving away to go talk to another table.

Andre smirked. “I’m guessing that doesn’t rule out much.”

Jace tossed the papers back on the table in frustration. “Looks like we won’t be taking on a newbie tonight.”

“No big deal. I saw that Melissa chick earlier, and she was hinting that she’d be interested in joining us later. It’ll still be a fun night.”

Jace rolled his shoulders, trying to fight the tension gathering there. He wasn’t interested in Melissa. She was a pretty girl, but he knew none of it was God-given—fake tits, fake lips, spray-on tan, and enough makeup to put a porn star to shame. That didn’t do it for him. He preferred women who had that natural, girl-next-door type of beauty. Girls who you’d never guess had a kinky streak if you saw them out in the world. Unfortunately, that was sometimes hard to find at a place like The Ranch.

“Here we go,” Andre said, pointing at the front part of the room.

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