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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.


Tags: Roni Loren Loving on the Edge Erotic