With a grunt of satisfaction, Logan poured himself a glass of wine and wandered out to the lodge room. Taking a chair a small distance from the crowd, he settled in to enjoy the aftermath of a good meal.
Rebecca was quite a cook. This morning the breakfast she'd made had taken his breath away. And supper had been roast beef with potatoes stewed in the juices, gravy, more biscuits. Hell, he could live nicely on just those biscuits alone. She'd even baked a cake. From scratch. He hadn't had food like this since he'd left his parents' ranch in Oregon.
Leaning back in his chair, he sipped his wine and studied the little rebel. A drawing pad propped on her lap, she created caricatures of the others to much acclaim. He shook his head. For an artistic type, she sure had no sense of how to dress. After coming back from Jake's Yosemite tour, she had changed into another of her ugly shirts, the ones that covered up every curve she had. Idiot woman. Even one of his flannel shirts would show her figure off better. Didn't she realize that a man would never notice the roundness of her waist when she had so much roundness above it?
Maybe he should tell her that.
God, she'd felt good underneath him this morning, and on his lap later. He could have resisted her physical attraction—maybe—but when she'd trembled in his arms as he made her pet Thor, he'd lost the battle. That damned vulnerability brought out every protective instinct of a Dom.
Then there was that moment when Thor laid his head on her leg, and her delight replaced fear. He had hoped for a truce between her and the dog, and instead he'd gotten the beginnings of true love. He sipped his wine and sighed. He hadn't expected the city girl to be so sweet. Like desert sand, she kept shifting on him until he could never be certain of his footing.
One thing he'd decided… She'd be underneath him again before the end of the weekend.
With a smile, he turned far enough to put her fully in his sights. She was aware of his attention, flushing every time she met his gaze, and even from here, he could see her breathing turn fast and shallow. A timid little rabbit when it came to sex, but trap her he would, even against his better judgment.
Giving her a break, he leaned his head back against the chair and relaxed. He had a long day's work in front of him tomorrow, and hopefully he'd get some sleep tonight.
“…BDSM.”
With that word, Logan's attention turned to the conversation going on, and he opened his eyes. What were they talking about?
“I thought swinging and bondage stuff were the same thing,” Rebecca asked the couple on the couch across from her, setting her pencil down.
“No, swinging just means open sex. Now BDSM means”—Mel rubbed his ruddy face as he thought—“three different things. SM for sadomasochism. And BD is…”
“Bondage and discipline,” Ginger said. “Tying people up and that sort of thing. And the DS part stands for domination and submission.”
Not bad, Logan thought. They'd gotten the acronyms correct at least.
He noticed Jake had disappeared, so he rose to make the wine rounds. Part of their lodge host duties involved playing bartender. He enjoyed the chores most of the time, and before they became too annoying, the lodge would empty out, and he could enjoy the quiet.
He filled glasses as he went around the room, reaching Rebecca just as she asked Mel, “I knew about the S and M stuff, and I've heard of bondage. But the domination and submission? I don't get that.”
The Dom in him couldn't pass over an opportunity like this, not from a woman he wanted. After setting down the wine bottle, he leaned over and threaded his fingers in her hair. When he tightened them, he had control.
She jumped in surprise and tried to wrench away.
With a steady pull on her hair, he forced her to look at him.
Her mouth opened.
“You do not have permission to speak,” he growled.
Not only did she stay silent but her pupils dilated slightly. Her cheeks flushed.
The sands shifted under him again.
Spirited. Vulnerable. Sweet
. Could she really be submissive also?
Releasing her, he cupped her chin in his hand, seeing the stunned look in her eyes. “That's domination, pet,” he said. He smiled slowly as her body quivered in his grasp, confirming his impression.
His blue eyes seemed to pin her to the chair even as his hard hand kept her head from moving. His voice, his command, kept her silenced, and somehow, someway, her body not only let him but she was shaking inside as waves and waves of heat went through her. She stared up at him helplessly and knew if he wanted to take her, here and now, she'd let him.
“There are no empty cabins?” Rebecca set her hands on her hips. “Well, that's just great. What am I supposed to do?”
The after-dinner conversations had broken into increasingly hot displays. Matt sat on the couch with Ashley almost in his lap. She played with his hair, giving Rebecca a superior look.
“You could join in and have fun like the rest of us,” Matt said. “How can you know you won't like it if you don't give it a try? I know Christopher and Brandon wanted you to join them, and so did Paul and Amy.”
Ugh
. “Not interested,” she said crisply. “So…” God, what was she going to do?
“Logan suggested you talk to him, and maybe he could work something out,” Matt added, then slid his hand into Ashley's low-cut blouse, his attention obviously not on the conversation.
Giving a huff of exasperation, Rebecca stalked out of the lodge. Screaming in fury might not help matters, but damn it all, hadn't she been in this same position yesterday? Sleeping on the porch swing meant risking hypothermia again, so that was out. Mouth tight, she headed down the trail. Matt used the cabin last night. Fairness dictated that she get it tonight—to herself. After all, that's why God gave locks to humankind, to keep out idiot males.
With the sun gone, the air temperature had dropped rapidly, and she shivered. In the stillness of the forest, the sounds from the lodge seemed distant as her sneakers crunched on the pine needles covering the trail. Almost there, she stopped. Heck, she'd left her art bag in the kitchen. She glanced back down the trail and shrugged. Not worth going back in the lodge again, not considering what would be going on.
At her cabin, she stepped onto the tiny porch, grabbed the doorknob, and…
Giggling came from inside the cabin. A man's laugh—Paul—and the bed started creaking in an unmistakable fashion.
Well, damn, damn, damn
. She backed away rather than kicking the door like she wanted. So much for that plan. God, Matt must plan to have a foursome in there later.
Ew.
She turned and went back down the trail, scuffing her feet, watching the dust glitter in the early moonlight.
She ran into a solid wall and let out a humiliating squeak.
Powerful hands gripped her arms, keeping her from falling, and she looked up into Logan's face.
“Jesus, just kill me and have it over with,” she said, putting her hand on her chest where her heart was trying to pound its way out.
“Sorry, sugar.”
“Sure you are,” she muttered. He didn't sound sorry at all, more like he was trying not to laugh, the bastard. “I needed to talk to you anyway.”
With a choked laugh, she dropped to her knees and did just that. Furry and solid, the dog didn't want anything more from her than some affection. Within a minute, he sprawled over her knees, half in her lap, and Rebecca rubbed his chest and got an occasional tongue swiped on her chin.
“Are all dogs like this?” she asked Logan. A tiny bit of worry remained inside, and yet there was something incredibly comforting about having the big, warm body in her arms.
“Thor's one of a kind,” he said. “He doesn't trust too many people, so consider yourself honored.”
She buried her face in the soft, soft fur and sighed. “I like you too,” she whispered into one furry ear and saw his tail move in response.
“Let's get back before you freeze.” Logan offered her a hand. “Thor, out of the lap.”
The dog moved, and Rebecca let Logan pull her to her feet.
He walked beside her toward the lodge, not releasing her hand. “No place to stay for the night, I hear.”
“No.” Annoyance at Matt made her voice sharp, and yet anticipation rose within her like champagne bubbles. Logan's big hand engulfed hers in warmth as they climbed the steps to the porch. “Do you have a storage shed or something I can use?”
The light from the lodge windows highlighted the hard planes of his face. “You are going up to my quarters and to my bed.” He put a finger under her chin and lifted until her face was fully in the light. “You may say, 'Absolutely not,' right now.”
He studied her face while her mind yammered in confusion. Her body had no qualms, and heat swept through her from stem to stern. His lips quirked. “That's what I thought,” he said, as if she'd answered a question. “Come.”
After opening the lodge door, he set a hand on her lower back, pushing her forward to the private door behind the desk. He tapped a code into the keypad and steered her inside and up the stairs to his rooms. Thor slipped in before Logan closed the door. “Shoes off, Becca,” he said, removing his boots. Her sneakers looked tiny beside his.
As the dog curled up on a pile of blankets in the corner, Logan pointed to the couch. “Sit there, sugar.” The leather couch sank under her weight, trapping her in softness. She glanced around, noting the TV had been concealed behind a lush tapestry. Logan definitely liked his comforts with the cushy chairs and couch, the deeply plush rug in front of the fireplace.
When classical baroque music drifted through the room, Rebecca blinked. This hard-faced mountain guy liked Bach? After stirring the coals in the fireplace, he tossed on more kindling and a big log.