The Wrangler (The Yacht Club #2)

Chapter 3

Three

Alex

I’m late. The big dinner and stress of talking about the rules for the club gave me a sleepless night. Or would’ve but I finally dropped sometime after midnight. I rub my eyes as I head down the stairs, my hair still damp from the quick shower I took to wake up. Gonna have to be careful with the power tools today.

Breakfast is laid out on the buffet. The number of hot plates and warmers is impressive. Amy still cooks for us like we’re guests of the inn. Stone and Tyler are filling their faces. Amy comes out of the kitchen with a carafe in one hand.

“You’re here.” She stops next to me. “I assumed you’d already left for the site.”

“Should’ve.”

“Coffee?”

I nod and she fills a mug for me. “I’ll put it on the table.”

I set my jaw when she places the cup at the empty place next to Sonja. Not a problem. I’ll just keep my head down, eat, and leave. With a clack of the tongs, I find space for two more slices of bacon on my loaded plate. Once the lid is back in place, covering the dish of the few remaining pieces, I turn to face the gorgeous red head I should be avoiding. I don’t want to make small talk. I don’t want to ask her where she’s from. I don’t want to keep arguing with my dick about what a good idea it would be to get inside her. The DFW airline tags on her bags were all the warning I need. Besides, brightly colored animals are dangerous.

Amy’s making small talk so I don’t say a word when I place my plate and take my seat. I shovel in the delicious food with less appreciation than it deserves. I can’t spend too long around the woman next to me who smells better than the bacon and coffee. My mouth is watering for all the wrong reasons.

“What kind of books do you write?” Amy asks and I can’t help but wait for the answer. Why do I care? It’s not like I’m gonna go out and buy her book and beg her to sign it. I shovel in another mouthful.

“Romance.” Her cheeks turn a cute shade of pink. She probably writes those sweet historical my momma likes.

“I used to read a lot of romance back in the day.” Stone could have said he like to paint his toenails pink and I wouldn’t have been more surprised. “We used to pass them around my unit while waiting for things to happen. What kind of romance do you write?”

She puffs up her chest, lifting her breasts unnecessarily. “Contemporary erotic romance. Mostly BDSM.”

I choke as my eggs go down the wrong pipe. A gulp of coffee clears up the mess enough for me to speak. “What do you know about BDSM?”

Everyone at the table is staring at me. I probably could have worded that question better or used a softer tone. But seriously, what the fuck does this woman know about bondage and submission? And why am I so desperate to hear her answer?

The pink of her cheeks darkens to a shade only a true redhead can achieve. An image of her naked with a red thatch between her legs flashes through my mind. What the fuck is this woman doing to me?

“I do a ton of research online. I have to because there isn’t a community or club or anything in my conservative small town. But I get on the forums and talk to people who are in the lifestyle.” She drags her fork through what’s left of the eggs on her plate. “Without the funds to travel and no one to take me to a club—I do the best I can. It’s difficult. My current book has me tied in knots.”

The naked Sonja in my brain is now encased in my ropes with beautiful knots, perfectly placed. Her arms are folded behind her back. Her breasts are framed, begging for my attention. My cock hardens.

“Do you write under your own name?” Stone asks.

The deep voice erases my vision. Thank fuck. I’m getting ready to masturbate at the breakfast table. What is wrong with me? I have to finish eating and get out of here—away from her.

“I use a pen name.”

“What is it? Maybe I’ve read some of your books.” Amy’s excitement is adorable. “If I haven’t, I’d love to.”

“I’m so sorry.” SJ glances up from whatever she’d been staring at on her plate. “I don’t tell anyone my pen name once they know my real name. It’s the only way I can keep my work separate from my personal life. You’ve met me as, uh, Sonja, but actually, I prefer SJ. My agent used my…legal name. But since you know it, I wouldn’t be comfortable if you knew my author name.”

Did anyone else catch that hesitation? I scan the table, but there’s no reaction beyond Stone nodding in approval. Yet another reason to stay away from her. I’ve played too many hands of poker in my life not to know a bluff when I see one. She’s lying about her names or something. I’m sure of it.

“You said your editor or agent or whatever paid for you to come to Colorado. Why not pay for you to take a trip for research?”

SJ shrugs. “My books sell and I get good reviews on how I present the lifestyle in a reasonably realistic manner.”

“There’s a club in Colorado Springs. I’d be willing to take you.” Eliot smiles at her and I want to punch that grin off his face.

“No. I’ll take her.” Did that just come out of my mouth? I press my lips together to keep more dumb ideas from spewing out. Eliot and his boys would turn SJ into their plaything. And his kink—their kink—is multiple partners. Three. Four. More. That’s not BDSM so much as polyamory. Their lack of expertise in bondage, in discipline, doesn’t explain my stupid outburst.

Blue eyes blink up at me. Her rosebud lips form a perfect O. “You will?”

My dick short circuits imagining what I could do with that mouth.

“Road trip.” Stone states. “We’ll all go. We can check on Blake while we’re there.”

And with that proclamation I’m screwed. No matter how I promise myself I won’t get tangled in this woman’s web of lies—once we get inside Pandora it will take everything in me to keep my hands and my ropes off her.