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“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.

All the rest of the members had taken their seats around the room—some on the plush couches and others at the candlelit cocktail tables. The lights were turned low except for those shining on the staging area at the front. Grant opened the double doors, and the initiates were led in blindfolded with their arms bound behind their backs.

Even though Jace knew none of the initiates were for him, the erotic sight of women stripped down to the barest essentials and volunteering for submission had his cock twitching in his jeans. The beauty of a woman who knew what she wanted and was brave enough to trust someone else to give it to her was unmatched in his book. He never took for granted the gift the sub gave by putting her trust in his hands. And he made damn sure he thanked her thoroughly for that submission by driving her to whatever heights of pleasure she was capable of.

He shifted in his chair. Damn. He’d been looking forward to indulging that side of himself tonight. Maybe he should reconsider the girl who’d listed being open to short-term even though she was ultimately looking for long-term.

Andre craned his neck, looking toward the back of the room instead of the stage. “Doms are already heading over to the single subs area. I can’t see her face, but if the brunette’s the one who’s open to ménage, we should go for her. She’s hot.”

Jace turned and squinted, trying to make out the figure in the darkened back corner of the room. Candlelight lit the outlines of the men and women quietly chatting. A petite brunette had her back to them, but even in the dark, Jace could see the delicate curve of her bare shoulder and the sweet column of her uncollared neck. Something about her called to him in a way that no other woman had so far tonight.

“I’m in,” Jace agreed. Maybe an Evan look-alike could purge the fantasies that’d been stalking him since South Padre.

Jace stood, a little surge of hope going through him. Maybe the night would turn out to be interesting after all. Andre joined him as they headed toward the back of the room. They weren’t the first to reach the brunette, so they stood back a ways as Colby, one of the other doms and a friend of Jace’s, talked to her.r: 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.


Tags: Roni Loren Loving on the Edge Erotic