She balled her fists and fought the inclination to stomp her feet like a child. She’d never met a more frustrating man in her life. How had she ever fallen for such a jackass? Without wasting another breath on him, she stomped past him, down the narrow hallway, and slammed the bedroom door behind her.
Like the rest of the cabin, the upscale rustic theme continued in the bedroom—dark woods, cream-colored fabrics, and soft lighting. It could have been a luxury cabin at any fine resort if not for the metal loops drilled into the walls and a leather and wooden bench contraption at the foot of the bed. She grimaced. This was going to be the longest freaking weekend of her life.
She rubbed her arms to fight off a shiver, and Reid’s heady scent wafted up from the shirt, reminding her of balmy nights and twisted sheets. The urge to bury her face in the soft cotton ratcheted through her. Damn it to hell. Why did the jerk have to smell good, too?
All right, enough of this ensemble. Letting the shirt fall to the floor, she headed to the closet and slid the louver doors open. But the contents only inspired a groan. Frederick’s of Hollywood called—they want their inventory back. She flipped through the satin-covered hangers with a huff. Lingerie, slinky dresses, vinyl getups, and enough leather to outfit a Judas Priest fan club. Terrific. She’d thought the items she’d packed had been sexy enough, but apparently the dress code here required hooker chic.
She grabbed a black bustier and a brief leather skirt and held them up in front of her. At least these would cover the essentials—not a guarantee most of the other options afforded. She tossed the items on the bed and grabbed a pair of knee-high black boots from the floor of the closet. Well, at least those weren’t so bad.
A sharp rap on the door sent her bolting upright. “Brynn, you’ve got five more minutes to pout, then I need you out here. Company’s coming.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” she called through the closed door.
“Just put your game face on and get out here.”
She sighed. “Fine, I’ll be right there.”
A few minutes later she heard Reid let someone in and the murmuring of male conversation. She gave herself one last glance in the mirror, pulled up the bustier a little more to make sure her boobs wouldn’t tumble out, and headed into the living room. The click of her boots earned raised heads from both the men.
Reid’s eyes widened as his gaze swept over her new clothes. “Guess you found the closet.”
Brynn ignored him and focused on their guest. “Hi, Jace.”
“Hot damn, girl, you look smoking,” he said, a wide smile splitting his face.
“Thanks.” He didn’t look so bad himself. Linen pants, untucked button-down shirt, and wavy blond hair pulled back in a short ponytail. If she weren’t so annoyed with him, she would’ve returned his compliment. She settled into the overstuffed chair opposite the one Jace sat in. “So what happened to ‘I’m not going to be here this weekend.’”
His gaze darted to Reid, then back to her. “Plans changed at the last minute.”
She smirked. “Right.”
“Be nice, Brynn,” Reid warned. “Jace doesn’t do one-on-one stuff—he’s known around here for ménage. It would’ve looked suspicious if he’d taken you on. Plus, he’s already doing us a huge favor by getting us in. I don’t want to risk him or his business with Grant by dragging him in deeper.”
She sighed, conceding. Reid was right. Who was she to be mad at Jace when he was putting himself on the line for her? “Sorry for snapping at you, Jace. I really do appreciate the help.”
“No problem, doll. I’m going to do all I can to help you—with everything.” His gaze met hers.
She bit her lip and nodded, getting the message and silently thanking him for not bringing up the revelation she’d made in the staging room. “So what’s the plan for tonight?”
“That’s what we were discussing before you walked in,” Reid said, buttoning the cuffs of the black shirt he’d put on to replace the one he’d lent her. “Jace chatted up one of the staff members and found out that new sub trainees are on total lockdown tonight and won’t be allowed on the main grounds until tomorrow at the earliest.”
“Shit,” she said, her hope for finding her sister tonight plummeting. “What the hell are we supposed to do now?”
Reid shrugged. “We need to go out and be seen. Jace offered to have dinner with us and to give us a tour of the main clubhouse so we can get our bearings. After that, who knows?”
She eyed the two of them, getting the feeling that the only one who didn’t know was her.
An hour and two courses later, Brynn still hadn’t managed to eat anything more than a few bites of salad. Between the ball of anxiety burning in her stomach and the breath-stealing bustier, she doubted even chocolate would tempt her. They’d toured the building, and she’d seen things that would be seared into her brain forever. Some of the scenes had gotten her heated in all the right places, but others had nearly sent her into a panic attack just watching.
She needed to get this exposure therapy over with now. The anticipation alone was going to be the death of her. She pushed a baby carrot back and forth across her plate as Jace and Reid talked.
Reid speared a piece of steak. “So how serious does it get here? Is it mostly light stuff or do they cater to those who go for the extreme?”
Jace shrugged as he finished chewing his bite. “It kind of runs the gamut. But there are limits. No blood play and definitely no breath play. Grant allows a lot of things, but doesn’t want anyone messing with the deadly stuff.”
Brynn’s fork stilled, but she kept her mouth shut and let Reid continue.
“So besides that, pretty much anything goes, then,” Reid said. “Guess I shouldn’t expect any less with all the high rollers around here. No one would pay this much money to go somewhere with a lot of restrictions.”