Loving On the Edge 5-Book Collection: Crash Into You, Melt Into You, Fall Into You, Caught Up In You, Need You Tonight. Roni Loren

of detail of each room boggled her mind. They were not fooling around here. Some big money had been spent.

      Every scene affected her on some level as her mind automatically placed her in each fantasy. The naughty nurse. The stripper. Her skin had flushed well past the point of comfort as they traveled down the hallway. They crossed in front of the window to the next room, and her heart picked up speed.

      She stared at the mock police station setup. The desk. The jail cell behind it with a narrow bed. What would it be like to have a guy play bad cop? To handcuff her and have her at his mercy? To pass her off to his partner to share her?

      The vision of two cops hauling her into the room, arresting her with plans for their own satisfaction, filled her head. Two above-the-law officers handling her however they pleased. Bending her over that desk and shoving her skirt over her hips, taking her from behind while the other used her mouth for his pleasure.

      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.”

      “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.”

      Andre turned the page. “Okay, candidate number one has been in a D/s relationship twice before, but is currently single. She has very few limits and is really into pain play. Open to ménage. She’s hoping to find a long-term master but is fine with short-term things as well.”

      Jace leaned back in his chair and grimaced. “Ooh, I don’t know.”

      “Yeah, if she wants serious pain stuff, neither of us is the right kind of dom for that.”

      “Plus, the open-to-relationship ones always have an agenda. Even if they say they don’t. I’m not here to spend the weekend cuddling and getting to know each other.” He didn’t come to The Ranch looking for relationships. He didn’t go anywhere looking for that.

      Andre smirked. “You know, not every woman here is out to trap you with her white picket fence. You’re not that great of a catch, anyway. Now me, on the other hand . . .”

      Jace flipped him off. He knew Andre was open to finding a steady relationship eventually, but his friend’s bisexuality and penchant for ménage tended to get in the way of any lasting plans. It was only a matter of time before Andre would figure out that the whole “till death do us part” thing wasn’t meant for people like them. Plus, why put your heart in someone else’s hands and give them the power to crush you?

      Jace had learned his lesson on that one and didn’t need a refresher course. D/s would never again be anything more than fun and fucking for him. Period. “Just tell me about the other woman, smartass.”