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.”Author: Roni Loren
“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.”