He watched as the sun warmed the mountain slopes and patches of white fog drifted upward. No. He wouldn’t pursue anything with Kallie. Besides, he and Logan were discussing a business agreement with the Mastersons and their guide service.
Yet she appealed to him so much that he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Which was rather odd. Since she’d returned to Bear Flat a couple of years ago, he’d never said more to her than good morning, had only been aware enough of her to be irritated by her manner and clothing.
Perhaps he should have been impressed instead. She was a good guide, he knew. And apparently a good friend. He grinned, remembering her defense of the women last night. All that courage in such a small bundle. She’d gotten knocked ass over teakettle and hadn’t whined, hadn’t cried—just cursed like a lumberjack. When he’d helped her up, she’d fairly vibrated with energy.
And heat.
She wanted him. Jake took a sip of coffee, remembering the feel of her, the sexual sizzle between them. She wanted him and didn’t like the fact. He didn’t either.
And it didn’t seem to matter, especially against the memory of her melting under his command. A submissive.
Jake tipped his head back as an eagle soared high, becoming a black speck in the pale gray sky. As he lifted his coffee, his hand stilled. Submissive. Business. Hell. He tossed the remainder of his drink into a nearby bush and headed into the lodge.
As he entered the kitchen, he saw Rebecca smack Logan’s knuckles with a wooden spatula.
“Keep those fingers away from the bacon,” she snapped.
Logan shook his hand, then grabbed her arms and lifted her onto tiptoes. “Little rebel, you’re going to pay for that.”
The sub’s body went limp. She smiled at Logan and said in a throaty voice, “Okay.”
Jake snorted a laugh.
Frowning, Logan set her down and glanced at Jake. “Can’t even scare her these days. What am I going to do?”
“You’re too easy on her, and she gets off on being spanked.” Jake leaned a shoulder against the door frame. “Try a whip.”
Logan crossed his arms and studied her. “Possible…possible…”
Rebecca’s eyes widened, and she sidled away from him, abandoning her bacon.
“Speaking of whips,” Jake said. “If I could have your attention before you start stripping her down, there’s something we should discuss with the Mastersons.”
“That would be?”
“What happens on a guide trip when one of our guests pulls out handcuffs? Or a flogger.”
* * *
A few days later, Kallie took her time picking stones and crud out of Midnight’s hoof and ignored the sound of Wyatt and Morgan fidgeting behind her. Thank God Virgil had chosen to be a cop, or she’d have all three of her cousins behind her.
The normally comforting scent of straw and horses clogged her throat as she carefully examined the horse’s frog and checked the horseshoe. Pity that this was the last hoof to clean. Couldn’t stall anymore, despite the bomb her cousins had dropped on her. At least she’d managed to get her face smoothed out to unreadable, although her stomach churned as if she’d chugged a pitcher of beer.
The late afternoon sun streaming into the barn made the dust in the air glow as she turned to face her cousins. “Now what do you mean, we’re going to be seeing a lot of the Hunt brothers?”
With her cat sitting at his feet, Wyatt leaned against the opposite stall, a pleased smile on his face. Morgan had the same smug expression. Good-looking guys. Sure they loomed over her like every other person in the world, but she figured they’d be a lot shorter after she killed them dead.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Well?”
“We talked about this before, cuz,” Wyatt said, taking point as he always did on the trails, leaving Morgan to bring up the rear. “You said they wouldn’t be interested, but we ran into them at the feed store last week, and they thought it was a great idea. We’ve had a couple of discussions, and it’ll work out well.”
Oh wonderful. “So Logan and Jake will pimp our guide services, and in return, we’ll book our incoming clients at their lodge instead of in Yosemite Village.”
“Yep.” Morgan grinned. “Means more business for all of us. Jake will still handle the day trips for their guests, but we’ll get any overnights or longer. If our clients spend the night locally, we’ll be able to hit the trails earlier.”
Fine, it was a practical idea, but it meant she’d be running into Jake Hunt all the time, and that wasn’t a comfortable thought. Either the man ignored her or wore a faintly disapproving expression—both were damned annoying. Then again, the way he’d looked at her last weekend…might be worse. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.
But to say I don’t like the way Jake Hunt looks at me to her cousins? No way. So she’d deal with it. It’s not like Jake would come on any guided trips, and she could probably avoid him when picking up the clients at the lodge. Trouble is, will I want to? “I suppose that makes sense.”
“The only drawback we’ve found is that the lodge has a rep for accommodating kinky groups.” Wyatt’s brows drew together. “We’d heard rumors about the place; Logan confirmed they’re true.”
“Kinky like what?” Jake and kink. The thought took her breath away.
“Like bondage and BSMD”—Morgan frowned—“or BMDS.”
“BDSM, doofus, and swingers and gay clubs. Whatever.” Wyatt scratched the three-day-old stubble on his cheek. He never shaved when he was on the trail with a group. “If they have a…specialty…weekend, they’ll black out the days, so we don’t book clients then.”
When Mufasa glided over, Kallie leaned down and stroked the cat’s soft fur. “I guess that sounds all right.” Surely the clients wouldn’t do weird stuff in front of her.
“The thing is their…people…are going to want to…you know,” Wyatt said.
She gave him an exasperated look. “I don’t know what ‘you know’ means.” Then again, she might. Serena’s romance books were pretty…interesting. And Kallie had actually tried a few things when she was in college. Handcuffs. Spanking. In the books, BDSM had sounded thrilling; in real life, it had been a dud. Wouldn’t her cousins hit the roof if she mentioned that?
“Yeah. We told Logan you wouldn’t.”
She snorted. “Like you have more experience?”
Wyatt’s dark tan acquired a red hue. “Morgan and I have seen some, and we told Logan that we’re okay with it.”
“You have?” Whoa, new information here. “You are?” Who are you guys, and what did you do with my cousins?
“It’s not our thing, but we got around when we were younger.” Morgan waggled his thick brows. “San Francisco has everything.”
Wyatt glared at him. “Watch your mouth.”
Kallie sighed. Her cousins usually treated her as one of the guys. With Uncle Harvey’s “Everyone is equal in this house” rules, they’d been fine with her being a guide, but perversely, equality didn’t include anything having to do with sex. If they could dress her like a nun, they would, and Wyatt, with his love of the Old West, was the worst of them all.
“Don’t worry about it, Kallie,” he said. “You’re not going to guide any of the lodge’s…special…guests.”
The sense of insult was instant. “That’s pretty sexist of the Hunts. I’m as good as you guys, probably better.”
Morgan grinned at the long-standing competition of “who’s best,” then sobered. “It wasn’t the Hunt’s decision, cuz; it was ours.”
“But…why?” Her chest constricted painfully. Were they trying to ease her out of the business? Hadn’t everything been going well?
“Kallie, these people are doing…” Wyatt’s color grew close to that of a beet. “Those people might have sex—in the open. In front of you.”
“Oh, honestly.” She shook her head. “Listen. If they do weird things in the forest, I’ll just close my eyes.”
“Even if we agreed,
Logan insists the guides need to be comfortable with guests, uh, playing during a hiking trip. And you’ve never even seen anything…”
She should take the out. She wouldn’t have to go to the lodge and would be able to avoid Jake. But she’d worked too hard to fit in and be part of the business…and to live here with them. They were the only relatives who had let her stay, and she wasn’t going to risk their love for something as stupid as discomfort. Besides… “It sounds like the lodge will bring in a fair amount of business. We can’t afford to have one of us three not handling some of it—it’d screw up the scheduling big-time.”
From the unhappy expression on her cousins’ faces, they’d realized that too.
She sighed. “So how does Logan suggest we solve the dilemma of me not being adequately informed about ‘you know’?”
“A BDSM club will be at the lodge this Friday,” Morgan said. “He offered to show you around and explain things.”
Wyatt folded his arms over his chest, looking stubborn. “We told him you wouldn’t be involved.”
“Guess you’ll have to tell him different.” Kallie crossed her arms too and gave him the same look back. “‘Everyone is equal in this house,’ remember?” She could see they were torn in two directions—wanting to keep her safe and acknowledging the business concerns. But they couldn’t win against Uncle Harvey’s maxim.
Wyatt raked a hand through his hair. “Kallie. Even if we let you—”
“You can’t stop me, dude.”
He leaned over and squeezed her arm, his brown eyes concerned. “Morgan’s got a fishing group booked, and I’m going to be guiding that mountaineering bunch. You can’t go to that place by yourself. We need to wait for another party, when we’re available to go with you. ”
“And that will be how long?”
“Another six weeks,” Morgan said.
She rolled her eyes. “If you think about it, you might realize that I’ll be by myself if I’m guiding them. I might as well go by myself now. Besides, won’t Logan watch out for me?”
They still looked unhappy.
“Tell you what—I’ll close my eyes whenever something looks interesting.”
* * *
Morgan and Wyatt had felt guilty, and Kallie had taken full advantage of them. They ended up taking her turns at shopping and kitchen duty for a week, and she wouldn’t have to guide that ego-ridden group of yuppies on Monday.
It helped just a little when contemplating what was to come.
On Friday night, she pulled her Jeep into Serenity’s small parking area and turned off the ignition. After a glance at the lodge, she laid her head on the steering wheel in pure misery.
Jake would probably be in there, damn the man. She’d fallen for his looks on first sight—what woman with a hormone in her body wouldn’t? But it was the little glimpses she’d caught of him that had done her in: plucking old Mrs. Peterson’s grocery sack from her arms and carrying it to the car, kneeling to admire five-year-old Olivia’s new kitten, helping push Dan’s car out of a mud hole in the pouring rain. He simply assumed it was his job to help the weaker ones—he reminded her of Uncle Harvey. Yeah, she’d fallen for more than his body.
After climbing out of the Jeep, she scowled at the number of cars in the lot and her doubts rose. There must be a lot of kinky people at the party. But still, that didn’t bother her as much as the Jake Hunt dilemma. Maybe she should have tried to explain her discomfort to Wyatt and Morgan…
Guys, it’s like this: First, if Jake frowns at me like he usually does—as if I’m dog meat—my feelings will be hurt. I’m liable to kick him, and that’s considered bad for business relations.
Second, if I have to watch him…doing…some woman, well, that will hurt too. It was bad enough getting secondhand reports from her friends. How wonderful Jake was in bed, how thorough, how caring. She frowned. Wasn’t it odd they’d never done anything kinky with him? Maybe only the lodge guests were into the BDSM stuff, and he wasn’t. Not that it mattered to her what he did in his bed. Nope.
Third, if he looks at me like he did last time—just the thought made her heart race—then I’ll go belly-up like a whipped dog, beg him to take me, and never be able to look him in the face afterward. Once again, poor business relations.
Oh, wouldn’t those confessions go over well with Wyatt and Morgan. She snickered. Although they knew she dated, they never allowed themselves to think about what that might mean.
She kicked the Jeep door shut and walked into the wide clearing. The cool night air, scented with pine, ruffled her hair. Lights glimmered from the small cabins in the trees, knee-high solar lanterns delineated the pathways, and one larger light beamed from the two-story log building. As she strolled across the open space to the lodge, an owl glided low, wings lit by the bright porch light. Like a tank dropping out of the sky, it landed on a tiny rodent. The poor mouse squeaked helplessly.
She knew just how it felt.
Okay, let’s get this over with. Kallie crossed the wide porch and almost stumbled over a massive dog sprawled in front of the door. It stood, some sort of German shepherd mix, and stared at her. She took a step in retreat, then saw his full tail wave back and forth. A nice dog. She wouldn’t be getting her throat ripped out tonight, and wasn’t that a shame. She petted him and laughed when he leaned his weight against her legs and almost bowled her over. “I’d rather hang out with you, dog. But guess I’m stuck.”
As the dog flopped back down, Kallie pulled open the heavy front door. After stepping inside, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. The room smelled like leather and wood smoke, perfume and sex. It even sounded like sex. Over the music of a Gregorian chant, a man groaned, long and low. Slapping sounds were accompanied by a woman’s whimpering.
Kallie swallowed hard as the room came into focus. To the left, leather couches sat around a stone fireplace with a crackling fire, and past that, a naked man bent over, facing the wall. In the firelight, his pale buttocks displayed red welts in even rows.
Kallie’s eyes widened. Is this what Wyatt had meant by “you know”?
On the log walls, lanterns with amber-tinted glass cast circles of golden light, leaving other areas in shadow. She saw more seating arrangements here and there, defined by colorful rag rugs and dark red chairs. Farther down the room, people engaged in activities she couldn’t quite make out. Wasn’t sure she wanted to. The cracking sound—was the man at the end using a whip? Her hands closed into fists.
To her right, a blonde in a shiny latex catsuit held a lit candle over a woman tied to a desk. Wax dripped onto bare breasts. A splat. A gasp.
That looked…really painful. What would it feel like? To be unable to move. Naked. Waiting for something hot to land on your nipples. Painful or…erotic?
Her body said erotic. Her bra felt…tight, and even her baggy jeans managed to press on disconcertingly sensitive places. Okay, Wyatt had been right; she really wasn’t prepared for this.
The blonde caught her staring and gave Kallie an assessing look before smiling. Kallie sucked in a breath and nodded back. I’m cool. Experienced woman, seen it all in my time. Really. What the hell was she doing here? Morgan and Wyatt should have explained a lot more about the “you know” stuff. Oh, they were going to suffer—painfully—before she killed them. Maybe she could borrow that guy’s whip.
Then again, her cousins might not have realized… Maybe the places they’d visited in San Francisco weren’t as…much. Whatever. Well, now that she’d done as Logan had required and taken a look, maybe she could just sneak out and—
“You joining us tonight, baby?” A tall, skinny guy in a black biker jacket grinned at her.
Caught. “No, I’m not. Is Logan around?”
“That’s a shame. I’ll get him.”
As Kallie’s gaze followed the man heading for the back of the room, she spotted a woman chained, facing the far wall, dressed in only a thong. The guy in front of her held an English riding crop, and when he whopped her
on the thigh, she yelped.
Kallie winced and somehow, weirdly, felt excitement trickle down her spine. Okay, I really, really need a beer.
“You made it.” Logan strolled up, gripping a lushly built woman by the scruff of her neck.
Kallie shifted her weight uncomfortably. Was that his fiancée, Rebecca? Kallie had met her in town only once. Aside from Jake, Serenity Lodge didn’t socialize much. A scream came from across the room, and Kallie amended that assumption. They didn’t socialize in Bear Flat much. “Yeah, I’m here.”
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