Читать книгу Fall Into You - Roni Loren, Roni Loren - Страница 17

Charli pulled her hair into a twist and kicked up the volume on the small radio in the cabin’s bedroom. This place was too damn quiet, especially at night. And who would want to stay anywhere without a television?

Serenity made her antsy. She’d had better luck relaxing by riding roller coasters or learning to kickbox. Things that turned the adrenaline up and her mind off. Things like getting pressed up against a shower wall by a fully clothed cowboy and riding his hand until her brain exploded.

That had been a pretty big adrenaline rush—well, up until she’d realized she was the only one into it. That the mere thought of kissing her had made him recoil.

God, what had she been thinking? Talk about making a fool of herself. Nothing like coming across as desperate and sex-starved.

And drunk.

She couldn’t forget that part.

Nice job, Beaumonde.

She sat on the edge of the bed, trying to shake off the memory, and booted up her iPad so that she could catch SportsCenter and her own station’s end-of-the-day wrap-up show. The sports radio was not cutting it. And after her long day of purposely avoiding Grant and then an evening chasing down a lead that didn’t pan out, she was ready to relax, watch the night’s highlights, and get to bed. Plus, the network was going to introduce Blondie as the new sidelines reporter on-air and for some reason, Charli felt compelled to watch it.

The screen came to life, but when she tried to access the Internet, she got the no signal message. “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me.”

When she’d done her morning check-in text with Grant, he’d let her know that he’d moved the router in his own cabin, which should give her access to his connection, but apparently it hadn’t done the trick. She wasn’t quite ready to chat with Grant in real time. She needed the mortification of the previous night to settle a little longer before she crossed that bridge, so she sent him another text. But after a few minutes, she hadn’t heard back. She stared down at the absent signal icon on the tablet. “Damn.”

She frowned at the screen. She should go to bed. What good would seeing it be anyway? Why torture herself? But the urge to have that closure was too strong. With a sigh, she got up and toed on her tennis shoes. If Grant wasn’t answering a text, he probably wasn’t home. She could probably sneak over to his yard and borrow his signal long enough to see the show.

Not ready to repeat the debacle from last night, she made sure she had a flashlight before heading out. The walk over wasn’t very long and if she stayed on the gravel path this time, she’d be fine. Plus, being sober always helped. She grabbed her backpack and slipped the tablet inside, then locked up behind her. Grant had told her the grounds were secure and locking doors wasn’t necessary, but frankly, at night the place looked ripe for a Friday the 13th installment. And she’d prefer to skip the ax murdering tonight.

She walked carefully along the path, making sure to keep an ear out for any animal sounds and holding the light out in front of her. But besides a rabbit that darted in front of her and inspired a near heart attack, she was alone on her trip over. Grant’s porch light came into view and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. His truck was there.

She paused, suddenly panicked that he’d discover her out there. What if he wanted to discuss last night? Or had a woman over or something? She didn’t know anything about his life really. Hell, maybe he had a girlfriend and that’s why he’d left last night. She sniffed. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Charli. She’d known exactly why he’d turned away. And it wasn’t because of another woman. The way he’d reacted hadn’t left much room for interpretation. It was simple. He was appalled by the thought of kissing her.

It was like high school and college all over again. She was the girl who was okay to fool around with on the sly for a fun night here or there, but not the girl guys actually wanted to date. She was a buddy fuck. Always had been and seemed always would be. She scanned the area for a somewhat safe place to sit and spotted a simple wooden bench beneath one of the large oaks at the edge of his yard. It was shrouded in the shadows and close enough to probably get the signal she’d come for in the first place, but far enough that Grant wouldn’t see her if he happened to step outside. She headed over, parked on the bench, and pulled out her tablet.

The signal wasn’t perfect, but it was there. She cued up her station’s Internet feed and selected the most recent show. Most of today’s scores she’d already heard, so she skimmed through that and made it to the part she’d been both looking for and dreading. The nightly anchors invited Stormy to sit at the desk with them and introduced her. Jack, head anchor, smiled an all-teeth smile at Stormy while he asked her questions and surreptitiously checked out her too-low-cut top. If he’d been a cartoon character, his tongue would’ve rolled out of his mouth and smacked the desk. And even worse were the Internet messages from viewers below the video. No one, of course, commented on whether or not Stormy had sports knowledge or experience. It was all talk of how hot the new sideline reporter was.

Charli’s dinner churned in her stomach, and she clicked the off button. Well, apparently they’d nailed their target market. The market that had no interest in her. But before she could fall back into that lovely dark place of feeling sorry for herself, the front door of the cabin opened and Grant stepped out. She instinctively shrunk backward, making sure she stayed cloaked in the shadows of the oak. The last thing she needed was Grant finding her out here and adding creepy stalker to her list of attributes along with girl who throws herself at men whilst drunk.

He glanced around the yard, but not with intent, then shut the door behind him. He was still fully dressed in what she was beginning to think was his uniform—plaid shirt and worn jeans, but he’d taken his hat off, revealing that dark wavy hair of his beneath. Her fingers flexed, remembering what it felt like between her fingers, wondering how that shadow of a beard would feel against her skin.

Stop it. Even knowing he had no interest in her, she couldn’t stop herself from the fantasies. It was as if his presence scrambled the signals in her brain—making her think things she never thought, want things she’d never considered. But after the humiliation of last night, she’d needed to get herself together and show him that she wasn’t some desperate woman trying to get his attention. He couldn’t know that he had any power over her. Not if they were going to exist together these next few weeks. They would need to agree to forget what happened last night and move on. Delete that episode altogether.

Just not tonight. She wasn’t ready for that conversation quite yet.

She held her breath, though at this distance there was no way he’d be able to hear her breathe, and watched. She expected him to head to his truck, but instead he turned at the far corner of the house and walked away from her and toward the resort. Apparently, he was going to work, but what would a resort need the owner for this late at night? Wouldn’t everyone be settling in or sleeping by now?

Once he was far enough away, she let her lungs empty and tucked her computer back into her knapsack. She’d be able to escape to her cabin without him ever knowing she was here if she left now. But as she watched Grant’s sauntering gait disappear into the night, she found herself rising from the bench and heading away from her cabin instead of toward it, the draw of the unknown too tempting for her reporter instincts.

If he could install a tracking device on her car, then she could be nosy, too.

She tucked her bag behind a bush near the back side of his cabin, then picked up her pace so she wouldn’t lose him. She kept a decent distance behind him. Grant had been in the military and so undoubtedly had finely tuned senses for people sneaking up on him. And the grounds were so damn quiet, one snapped twig and she’d reveal herself. But Grant never looked back, just continued to stride with that swagger of his. A man on a mission by the looks of it. Maybe something had gone wrong at the resort and he had been called over.

Grant opened the padlocked gate that led to the other side of the property, and Charli ducked behind a tree as he turned to swing the gate closed behind him. Some creepy-crawly thing landed on Charli’s arm and it took everything she had not to yelp and shake it off. Grant snapped the lock closed, the sound echoing in the silence, and continued on his way. As soon as his back was to her again, she did a little shake and got the damn bug off her arm, shuddering. She’d rather face a coyote than bugs.

In order to follow Grant, she had to climb over the low post-and-rail wooden fence, which made her glad she’d chosen sneakers tonight. She hopped down to the other side and glanced around, half-expecting a SWAT team to lower down from the surrounding trees. Grant had made everything sound so top secret over here.

But no one came to tackle her, and she was able to catch sight of Grant again in no time. There were paved paths on this side with solar-powered garden lights lining some portions of the trails. The wild Texas brush and trees were trimmed back and looked neater, more manicured. There really was no way to remain hidden, so instead she pushed her shoulders back and tried to pretend like she belonged there. If anyone but Grant saw her, maybe they’d assume she was another guest.

The main house loomed in the distance—a breathtakingly large building of cedar and river rock. Lights glittered around its perimeter but the few windows she could see were all dark. She had no idea if the main building had rentable rooms or if it was just the place for dining rooms and spas or whatever the hell rich people needed on their rustic vacation. Regardless, Grant seemed to be making a beeline in that direction.

As soon as she rounded the last bend though, something off to the right caught her eye. A flash of movement. She turned her head, taking her eyes off Grant, and almost tripped over her feet when she saw two men underneath a nearby tree. One of the men was shirtless and pressed up against the bark; his partner’s forearm was pressed over his wrists, holding his arms taut above his head. Charli’s gaze tracked down and she couldn’t help but gasp when she saw where the man’s other hand was. The fly of shirtless guy’s pants was spread wide and the man’s fist was wrapped around his partner’s shaft in what looked to be a painfully tight grip.

The man against the tree shifted his gaze, catching sight of her. Their eyes locked.

Charli stopped, feet frozen in place. Not sure what to do. Was the guy being attacked? She couldn’t imagine any man wanting to be gripped that tightly. Did he need help? But then he smiled at her—a lazy, drunk-on-pleasure smile, one that stirred something unfamiliar within Charli. His partner released his grip on the man’s cock in an instant and smacked him audibly across the cheek.

Charli let out a little yelp.

“Eyes on me.” Or at least that’s what she thought she heard the man say after the slap.

She moved forward, not sure what she was going to do, but unable to stand there and watch someone get hurt. But the man against the tree shook his head at her and winked, then apologized to the guy who’d just hit him and lowered his head.

She halted her step. This was some kind of game.

A game he didn’t want her interfering with.

She backed away, moving onto the path again and trying to get her legs to work correctly beneath her. She had no idea what was going on. How had Grant passed right by this couple and not seen what was happening? What if someone on a family vacation passed by with their kids?

She wrapped her arms around herself, somehow both hot and cold at the same time. Her body’s odd reaction to seeing the couple was something she’d rather not think too hard on. She started walking up the path at a much faster pace than before. Now she was going to have to admit to Grant that she’d snuck onto the property. She didn’t know what was allowed at his resort, but she couldn’t imagine public sex was okay. He had a right to know what was going on.

She scanned the path in front of her and sighed. Of course, she’d lost sight of her cowboy during the diversion. Some stalker she was. Not sure what else to do, she made her way up to the main house and considered her options. The place had a number of doors and she had no idea which Grant had gone into or if they were locked or alarmed. And really, she no longer remembered why it had sounded like such a good idea to follow him in the first place. Maybe it was time to tuck tail and run.

“Do you need some help?”

The soft female voice startled Charli. She spun around to find a stunning blonde smiling back at her—a stunning blonde wearing what looked to be a red latex catsuit. “Uh…”

She tilted her head, assessing her. “You new here?”

“Yes.” The word tumbled out automatically. “I’m a friend of Grant’s.”

“Oh, wow, that’s great,” she said with genuine warmth. “Just a friend or a trainee?”

“Huh?”

She laughed. “Sorry. You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. We’re all just a little curious about our tight-lipped boss.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Kelsey, by the way. Or Lady K as most everyone knows me around here these days.”

Pieces started to slide into place in Charli’s brain. “Nice to meet you. I’m Charli.”

“Are you only new here or are you new to this altogether?”

Oh, shit. “Altogether.”

“Well, come on in, Charli. Boss man shouldn’t have left you alone if you’re brand-new. It’s easy to get overwhelmed around here.” She pulled open the nearest door. “I’m supposed to be assisting Colby with one of his training sessions. Feel free to come and watch. Or participate if the spirit moves you.”

She walked through the door, her hips swaying on top of crazy-high-heeled boots with the ease of a pendulum. Charli followed her in, feeling like a schlub in comparison. How were some girls born with that vixen gene? Charli had no interest in other women, but even she couldn’t help but be drawn in by Kelsey’s magnetic sexuality.

Kelsey walked forward with long strides that belied her petite size. “So what side of the sandbox do you play in?”

Charli frowned. “I’m, um, not sure yet.”

Kelsey gave her a quick grin over her shoulder. “Oh, I know how that is. Sometimes you just have to give each role a shot and see what lights you up.”

“Right.”

The halls were quiet and decorated with deep maroons and dark wood. There were no windows but soft glowing sconces lit their way, giving the whole place a somehow comforting womblike vibe. Kelsey turned a corner and crooked a thumb toward the door on the left. “Here we are. Keep quiet when we go in. I’m a little late, so things have probably already gotten started. This is an open session, so if you want to join in at any time, go for it.”

Charli nodded, scared about what she was walking into but too damn curious to turn around and hustle back home. “Thanks.”

Kelsey turned the knob with nimble fingers and pushed the door open without a sound. On the other side was a small room. Charli peered over Kelsey’s shoulder, her lips parting when she saw the space was filled with half-dressed men and women on their knees. She pressed her fingers over her mouth, barely managing to choke down a gasp of surprise and avoid alerting everyone to her presence. Having a notion of what the place could be and actually seeing it were two different things. A ripple of nerves went through her.

Kelsey stepped inside, and Charli didn’t know what else to do but go in with her. Hell, at the very least, this was a whole lot more interesting than what was going on at her empty cabin. The man at the front of the room—the only person standing—nailed the two of them with his gaze. “Ah, I told you all we’d have a special treat. Lady K has generously offered to help tonight.”

One of the two men kneeling turned his head to see Kelsey and broke out into a wide, awed smile. Kelsey’s expression turned icy in an instant—from Snow White to evil queen in zero point five seconds. “Sub, I didn’t give you permission to look at me.”

The words were like the snap of a whip. The man instantly lowered his head as if he’d been struck. “So sorry, mistress. Forgive me. I was overwhelmed by your beauty.”

She sniffed, a haughty tilt to her chin. “Flattery will get you nowhere. Master Colby must’ve not gotten to that part of your lesson yet.”

The man at the front—Colby presumably—sent Kelsey a conspiratorial smile. “We’ve only started working on proper kneeling techniques. But I’ll be sure Antoine earns your forgiveness later, Lady K.” Colby looked to Charli as if noticing her for the first time, then back to Kelsey. “Have you brought us another trainee?”

“She’s new and just observing tonight, trying to figure out her inclination,” Kelsey said, her tone softening from the harsh one she used with the man.

Colby’s dark eyebrows lowered, thunderclouds crossing his features, and he shook his head. “No observers for my trainings. Participate or leave.”

Charli’s throat seemed to shrivel, and she couldn’t get a response out. Kelsey must’ve recognized the panicked look because she put a hand on Charli’s elbow and leaned next to her ear. “Don’t freak out. Nothing major happens in this session—it’s all manners. Stay and see how you feel. Might help you with your decision.”

More because her legs wanted to give out from under her than anything else, Charli let Kelsey guide her down into a kneel. So this is why Grant had been so guarded about the resort. Grant—the cowboy military guy turned vineyard owner—ran some sort of kinky S and M club? She couldn’t even wrap her mind around the thought.

And if he ran it, did that mean he was into it, too?

Charli was dragged from her thoughts as Colby walked over to one of the younger women in the front—a dark-haired beauty who looked to be pulled from the pages of an old-fashioned pinup calendar. He cupped her chin and titled her face toward him. “Stella, would you please show the group what a nice stand and kneel you have?”

The girl kept her eyes down. “Yes, sir.”

With one fluid movement, Stella rocked forward, tucked her toes under, and rose to a stand. It was a simple sequence of actions, but even Charli couldn’t deny the utter elegance it conveyed—like a silk curtain lifting with a gust of wind.

Colby gazed down at her with pride. “Lovely, Stella.” He looked to the group. “You see that, subs? None of this putting one leg up first or pushing yourself up with your hands. Unless you have some injury stopping you, your master or mistress deserves that kind of grace from you.” He put a hand on Stella’s shoulder. “Down.”

“Yes, sir.” As if the rewind button had been hit, Stella reversed her movements and rocked down into a kneel with the same fluidity. She ducked her head and placed her palms on her thighs. Beautiful. Subservient.

The idea should have rankled Charli. She’d spent her whole life making sure men saw her as an equal, showing no weakness, no softness. But there was such feminine beauty to Stella, Charli couldn’t help but feel a tug of envy. What must it be like to draw that kind of rapt attention, to get that dripping-with-lust gaze from a man? Something low and deep within her stirred at the notion.

Colby crossed his arms over his broad chest, looking like a drill sergeant. “Now I want to see all of you follow Stella’s example. Up.”

The group instantly sprung to life, each person trying to emulate the graceful act. Charli hesitated for a moment but then snapped to it when she realized not following would only bring attention to herself. She attempted the movement, but her hand landed onto the floor when she overcorrected on her balance. She rose to her feet with the elegance of an offensive lineman suffering a concussion. Terrific.

“Down,” Colby barked.

Everyone scrambled back to the floor. Some smoothly, some not so much.

Kelsey shook her head, tsking. “Pitiful.”

Charli felt the heat of shame rising up from her chest. Shit, what had she gotten herself into? And why should she even care if she was a pretty kneeler or not?

Charli stared down at her hands, wondering how she could sneak out with anyone noticing. She needed to get out of here—stat. This was way out of her zip code. But right when she started to turn her head to venture a peek at the door, a heavy hand landed on her shoulder. “You seem to be lost, Ms. Beaumonde.”