Buried Treasure (Silver Creek Resort Book 1)

by Melinda Barron

  Autumn admired Shawn’s loyalty. Not many people would feel that way. Most people enjoyed gossip.

  The truck bounced over the landscape.

  “Did you do as I asked?”

  Autumn looked out the window. “Yes.” She hated to admit it, and she’d thought long and hard before she had. She kept herself trimmed, but going bare was totally different.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing your handiwork,” he said. “You should be careful and keep it shaved. Ingrown hairs can be painful.”

  “Thanks for setting me up for that,” she said. “Is there some special reason why you didn’t want to spend the night in a wonderful, soft bed tonight? Peeing outside isn’t the only thing I’m not a fan of, you know.”

  “I’m learning more and more about you every day,” he said. “I rather like sleeping out under the stars.”

  “Under the stars?” She knew her voice was on edge, but she couldn’t scale it back. “I’m not sleeping under the stars. There are snakes, and scorpions and all sorts of creepy crawlies out here. If you’re planning on us sleeping outside in the literal sense of the word, turn the car around, now, please.”

  “Trust me to take care of you,” he said. “The only snake in use tonight will be the one I control.”

  Autumn burst into laughter. “That’s good. I hope you’re right, because if I see one snake, I’m running him over with this truck, and then, I’m driving it back to Silver Creek, whether you’re with me or not.”

  “Duly noted,” he said.

  The sun was starting to set, and, despite her apprehension about the creatures in the desert, she thought the landscape was beautiful. If she was an outdoor girl, she might enjoy sleeping out under the stars.

  The truck bounced more as they came closer to the mines. She could see the range of foothills as they grew closer and closer.

  “Seeing things like this makes me wonder about the people that originally discovered them,” she said. “Was one of those people a relative of yours?”

  “Yeah, a great something or other,” he said. “Uncle, I think. My family has never been very good at genealogy.”

  “But this land has stayed in our family for years,” she said. “Someone somewhere must have been close. Are there boxes of records? Diaries? Pictures?”

  “And the journalist comes out,” he said with a laugh. “There are a few boxes of things in a closet of my cabin. I don’t know what’s in them, but you’re welcome to go through it when we get back.”

  “You don’t wonder about things like that, I mean your relatives?” she asked. “You don’t wonder about what they did, how they lived? I have a very small family so there’s not much there to be curious about. But I do know my grandmother used to tell me about her life in the twenties. She was a flapper.”

  Autumn wiggled her butt in her seat and laughed. “She still had a few of her outfits, and when I was a kid she would let me try them on. I asked her lots of questions about what life was like back then. You could say my grandmother was my first interview. I wrote stories about it.”

  “Did you?” The truck hit a pothole and he grasped the wheel tighter. When the shaking stopped he said, “Do you still have those stories?”

  “I don’t know, they might be in a box in my closet somewhere.”

  “Much like there might be family stuff in my boxes,” he said. “Now, that you’ve mentioned it I’m thinking it might be interesting to see what’s in there. And I like the idea of you playing dress up with the flapper things. Did you like being a flapper?”

  “It was interesting,” she said with a laugh. “I would love to write a—” Autumn cleared her throat. “How much longer do you think we have to go?”

  “We used to explore these mines when I was a kid, me and a few of my cousins,” Shawn said. “We’ve got about half an hour more.”

  “How did you get out here when you were a kid?”

  “Horseback,” he said as he slowed the vehicle. “It took much longer to get out here.”

  “I can imagine,” she said.

  “But let’s not think about that,” he said. “Let’s go back to what you would like to write.”

  “What?”

  “You said I would love to write, but then you stopped suddenly,” he said. “What would you like to write? About flappers? That would be intriguing, wouldn’t it?”

  “I write non-fiction,” she said. “My editor, if I still have one, would question why I had a flapper in my story. But if it involved something like time travel, he might put it above the fold and I might be up for a Pulitzer. If—if—I was still a writer.”

  “Tell me what happened to your writer job,” he said.

  “The internet,” she said. “In case you haven’t noticed, print journalism is dead. I didn’t make the transition to digital.”

  “Why not?”

  She thought about it for a moment. “I’m a good writer, but my boss and I never quite got along. It wasn’t something either of us did, we just clashed. That happens with people sometimes, like with me and Ethan. I think he’d rather enjoyed the fact I was one of those who lost their jobs when the paper had layoffs.”

  “In Pueblo?”

  “Denver,” she said. “I moved to Pueblo to work for my cousin. It wasn’t exactly a welcome home for me. My mom didn’t want to share her house, so I got a little apartment, and I work for my cousin.”

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  Autumn looked out the window. “Finding a job is not easy. I have a degree, true, but a lot of the people I talked with said I was overqualified for what they were offering.”

  “Do you still write?” he asked. “Have you tried your hand at fiction? Is that what you were going to say, that you wanted to write a story that featured flappers?”

  “I’ve thought about it,” she said. “But I haven’t done it.”

  “Or you could write a true crime story about people who rob a bank, bury the money and trigger a search for it a little more than fifty years later.”

  She laughed, but then she looked at him and said, “You’re serious.”

  “Very,” he said. “Depending on how this pans out, it might make an interesting story.”

  “Most true crime stories are murder stories,” she said. “I don’t want that to happen in order for me to write a story.”

  “True,” he said. He slowed again, and in front of them she saw a tent, a large one.

  “I think that is bigger than my apartment,” she said.

  “I told you I would take care of you,” he said. He parked and turned off the truck.

  “There is the main room, and to the right there is the toilet.” He pointed to the area. “It’s in its own little tent.”

  “Nice,” she said. “But I still have to go outside to get to it. Not liking that.”

  “I figured that would come up, so I asked the guys to construct a little pass through, that means you don’t have to go outside.”

  “Thanks.” Autumn put her hand on the door. “Shall we go inside?”

  “It’s funny that we’ve talked about your writing,” he said. “One of the reasons I wanted to come out here tonight is because I have a little fantasy I want you to play out with me.”

  “Really?” Warmth spread through her. “You mean something that involves BDSM.”

  The look on his face said, “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “The first time I saw you I was attracted to your tits,” he said. “They are rather spectacular.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “So, this fantasy involves my tits?”

  “I had X put together a harem girl costume for you,” he said. “It should accentuate what I’ve been dying to play with for a while now.”

  “With your teeth, or hands?”

  “Teeth, hands, cock,” he said. “So, here’s the plan for the evening. We’re going inside and you’re going to change into your outfit. I’m going to make myself comfortable on the bed that’s been set up.”

  “An
d then, I’m going to tell you a story like Arabian nights?”

  “Oh no, that’s been done to death,” he said. “I have an overwhelming desire to play with my harem girl.”

  “Play how?”

  “However, I want,” he said. He ran his finger down her arm. “We’ll see what sort of orgasm I can produce for you, tonight. We’ll see if we can send you soaring through the top of the tent.”

  They went inside, and the first thing Autumn saw was the bench they’d used earlier in the day, at least she thought it was. This one had arm and leg attachments, though.

  “I don’t think I like where this is going,” she said. “Isn’t there some sort of limit on the amount of times a person can be spanked in one day?”

  “Remember what I said about you creating your own prison? He stepped closer to her. “You assume that I’m going to spank you. You need more imagination than that. You need to relax and let things flow. Now, go change your clothes.”

  “Can I have a clue?”

  “You can do as I say,” he said. “Or do you wish to negotiate?”

  “Would that be bad?”

  “Before you know what is happening, yes,” he said. “You’ll enjoy this, trust me. Now, get a move on, apprentice.”

  “My bottom still hurts from earlier,” she said.

  “If it didn’t, I wouldn’t have been doing my job right. Now, I won’t say it again.”

  Autumn nodded. She went to the area where the clothes were set on a camp stand. She’d never been a harem girl before, she thought as she stripped out of her clothes. This was definitely something new.

  Chapter 14

  This was unlike any tent Autumn had ever seen. Not only was it bigger than her kitchen and living room put together but there was the pass through for the bathroom. Plus, there was a mirror so she could look at herself stuffed into the harem girl costume that was about two sizes too small, but made her feel so very sexy.

  “You look incredible,” Shawn said from behind her. “Do you know how to dance?”

  “I can line dance,” she said with a laugh. “Or the Texas Two-Step. But other than that, no.”

  “Not even the waltz?”

  “Nope.” She ran her fingers over her hips. The belt of the costume, and the bra, were made of heavy purple brocade. The gauzy pieces were sheer. “I thought these outfits were always full of jewels.”

  “Not for what I have in mind.” Shawn ran his fingers over her shoulders. “Go and lie down on the table, please, on your back.”

  His instructions made her relax. If she was on her back he couldn’t spank her, which saved her bottom from more abuse. Something told her this would be fun. She cocked her head. “Is this play acting? Am I supposed to be a harem girl, or a submissive dressed like one?”

  “You’re supposed to get on the table like I asked,” he said. “Good submissives, and harem girls, behave themselves.”

  Autumn crossed to the table. She climbed onto the padded bench and sat down, working to calm her breathing.

  “Lie back,” he said. She hated that he could make a command sound so sweet. She did as he instructed, then moaned softly as he bound her legs and arms to the bench.

  “You’ve changed your tune about being tied up,” he said.

  She was afraid to tell him she’d changed her tune about everything.

  “Shall I tell you why?” he said.

  “Oh, please analyze me,” she said, working hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “I can’t believe that’s what you have in mind when I’m half naked… Sir. That’s hard on my ego.”

  Shawn crouched down near her head. “Hush, or I’ll leave you tied here for hours while I take care of business on my own. It’s a very special type of punishment to be left hanging, with no orgasm in sight.”

  “That is cruel,” she said. She was already wet and ready for action. He stood and leaned over her, her head pressing into his groin area as he ran his hands up and down her body. He kneaded her breasts and she gave herself over to his touch. Today it was soft and gentle. He didn’t pinch or grab or bite this time, and she hated to admit that she was a little disappointed by the softness of his caress.

  “You look delectable,” he said. “Tell me, do you think sultans tied up their harem girls?”

  “Doubtful,” she said.

  “Why do you not think so?” He traced her nipples with the tip of his index fingers.

  “Because harem girls are required to do as their owner wants, right? They wouldn’t need ropes.”

  “Maybe they used the ropes for fun,” he countered. He flicked his fingers over her nipples, which were harder than rocks.

  “Maybe.”

  “Surely you don’t think kinky stuff came into play in the last century or so,” he said.

  “You think Victorians tied each other up?” she asked. She struggled against her bonds. “This is a great conversation, but…”

  “But what?” He leaned over so his face was right above hers, his mouth at her eyelevel. “Are you hot, apprentice? You’ve been a bad girl, you know. I haven’t heard the word Sir in a while.”

  Hadn’t he? When was the last time she called him that?

  “I apologize, Sir,” she said.

  “Now, she remembers,” he said. “I think we need to work on you doing it without being reminded. What do you say?”

  “As you wish, Sir,” she said.

  “I love hearing that word come out of your mouth,” he said.

  From her position she watched as Shawn unzipped tent pieces, the top falling down to reveal mesh in the top, opening the tent up to the now dark evening sky. Some stars twinkled above her, and Autumn smiled. The sight was stunning, and the desert air, cooling off beautifully as the night deepened, drifted into the tent.

  “So beautiful,” he said.

  “Yes, Sir, it is,” she said.

  “I meant you.” He leaned over and kissed her, pressing his lips against hers as if he were trying to take away the air from her lungs. When it broke she breathed heavily in an effort to recapture her body, which seemed to shake now.

  “I’m going to play with you, apprentice,” he said.

  “Thank you, Sir,” she whispered.

  “I’m going to make you cry with need, and scream for release.” His lips moved against hers while he spoke.

  “I want that, Sir,” she said. The more aroused she became, the easier it was to call him Sir. She wasn’t sure why, but the word just seemed to slip off her lips now.

  “What will you do for me, apprentice?” he asked.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Whatever I want,” he said. He licked her lower lip. “What if I told you to suck my cock?”

  “I’d open my mouth,” she said. She’d told him already that she wasn’t very skilled at that particular activity. “Will you teach me how to please you that way?”

  “That and so much more,” he said. He licked her lower lips again. “Do you want to begin, apprentice?”

  Hadn’t they already started? She thought they had, obviously, she was wrong. Her mind drifted to the two men she’d shared a bed with in her lifetime. Lovemaking sessions with them lasted all of ten, maybe fifteen minutes. With Shawn you never really knew how long things would last.

  “I’d like your full attention, apprentice,” he said. “What do I need to do to gain it?”

  “You have it,” she said.

  “Wrong.” He traced his finger along her shoulder and up her neck to her jawline. “You are a million miles away. Either you come back to me or I walk, now. That’s your choice.”

  “I don’t want you to leave, Sir. I promise, you have my full attention.” She moved her head a little to the left and savored the feel of his hands on her bare skin.

  Once again, he put his lips next to her ear. “Look up.” She did as he asked. “Do you see all those stars, apprentice? One of these days, when you’re old and remembering your life, you’ll look up at those stars and remember the times I
helped you to visit every one of them.”

  Her eyes watered at the idea of living out his words. She wanted to ask if he would be there next to her while she was remembering their time together. But she knew she couldn’t do it. They were doing this as an experiment, nothing more.

  “Hopefully, I’ll make it long enough to have those memories,” she said.

  “You will,” he said. “An active sex life is crucial to a long life. And I plan on us being very active.”

  Wow, he answered her question without her asking the question. She kept her thoughts to herself as he stood and started to caress her shoulders one more time.

  The air in the tent grew colder, but it was his touch that made her shiver.

  “Excitement? Or are you cold?”

  “I was just thinking how I could tell the staff at the nursing home how one night I was tied to a bench in the middle of the desert.”

  He chuckled, and then he grabbed her breasts, found her nipples and twisted.

  Autumn cried out in pain and arched her back as far as her restraints would allow. He pinched her again.

  “I love watching you,” he said. “How does that feel?”

  “Hurts,” she whispered, and then as an afterthought said, “Sir.”

  He pinched them once more. Autumn bit her lip to keep from crying out again.

  “When I told you to get on your back you seemed very happy,” he said. “Why?”

  “Because you wouldn’t be able to spank me,” she said.

  He chuckled, and she shivered. “You’re so cute, thinking the only thing I can spank is your bottom.”

  He moved away from her. She cocked her head to watch as he started to dig through a box. When he pulled out a flogger her breath caught in her throat.

  “That’s not… I mean… wait, Sir.”

  There was a whirring noise and the bench started to lower. He moved between her legs, and when the bench stopped he said, “You’re a much better target from this angle.”

  Autumn stiffened in response. He had a flogger in his hand.

  “Don’t do that,” he said.

  “What, be afraid?”

  “I don’t want you to be afraid,” he said. He moved so that he was at her side. “I would never do anything to hurt you, not in the way you’re thinking. The pain I’ve given you has provided pleasure. Trust me to continue doing that.”