The Wrangler (The Yacht Club #2)

Chapter 16

Sixteen

ALEX

A tap, tap, tap at my door rouses me from the almost sleep I’d fallen into. Every muscle aches as I drag myself from my bed. There’s a week until the opening. I’m working every hour I can to try to finish along with Gabe and all the subs. We’re so close.

I open the door.

SJ.

My body comes alive as if I’ve been on vacation and slept ten hours.

“Can I come in?” she asks in a low voice. She shoots a furtive glance down the hall. I peek out into the empty space, too, tug her inside, and close the door quietly. The lock is loud when it snicks closed. I’ve been aching to be with her again, another stolen moment before she leaves for good. I probably should have been the one to sneak into her room, but the days have zoomed by and the only thing that matters is getting the resort done for the opening. At least, that’s what I want to believe.

She flings her arms around my shoulders, lifts to her tiptoes and kisses me, her breasts pressed against my bare chest. Having SJ back in my arms, I recognize the lies I’ve been telling myself. This warm, sexy woman matters a whole lot.

Fuck . Her kisses are so dang sweet. I’m torn between clutching her closer and ripping her clothes off. Bare breasts win. Still kissing, I lift the hem of her shirt. It bunches up. She breaks the kiss and helps me free her. No bra. I groan my approval, bend my knees, and suckle one tender bud. She drops her shirt and arches into my mouth.

“Missed you,” I mumble before moving my attention to the other side.

She runs her fingers through my hair. “Missed you too. And I wanted to ask you something.”

Her face filled with unease pauses the sexy times and I stand. “Anything.”

She twists a finger into her own gorgeous red hair and freezes, dropping her hands. “Would you be my date to the opening?”

Her words twist around my heart, squeezing it. “Yes, ma’am.” I clear the feels out of my throat and caress her cheek with my thumb. “I’d be honored to be your date.”

I kiss her to seal the deal. Her fingers find their way between me and my sleep pants and all thoughts of openings and date disappear like smoke. I follow her lead and shove the hem of her yoga pants down. Fuck me . No panties either. The fabric glides down her legs and I follow to my knees. The seductive scent of her arousal calls to me. She lifts one dainty foot, then the other, as I bare her.

The pants go flying, my hands grip her ass, and I nudge my shoulder between her legs. I have to taste her again, bury my tongue in her silky hole. I lap at her folds, savoring her unique salty sugar. She moans and I nearly loose my hold on her as she tilts back to give me more access. Shifting her to the bed, I open her legs wide, duck down, and let the back of her knees rest on my shoulders. A passing buzz that I shouldn’t be alone with her flits by and I swat the thought away like a pesky mosquito. It’s an echo of an old fear and there’s only so many more days I might have with her.

I sip and savor her, sucking her clit, until she’s writhing in my arms, still quiet, like we’re teenagers that might get caught. I falter at that unwelcome image. She lifts her head to peer down at me, a question on her face. She ain’t no virgin, and I ain’t no schoolboy. I return to the task of making her fly apart in my arms, and she does. Soft keening cries escape her lips despite her efforts to be quiet. Yeah, baby. I got you. I slip on one of the last condoms in the box I stole from Cade. Might have to steal the box I bought him as a replacement too. She helps me roll it down. Her touch makes me shiver and twitch. I got it bad for this woman. Maybe she can stay out here permanently?

I notch the tip of my dick at her hot, swollen entrance. Maybe she could stay with me.

With a shift of my hips, I sink slowly into her welcoming heat. It’s like going home for the holidays, it just feels right. A few more shifts and adjustments and I’m as deep as I can get into heaven. For a moment, I linger, letting our connection build. Her fingers dig into my back and she shifts. Little rabbit teases me to move. With a predatory grin, I give her what she silently requested. More, faster, harder. Her breathy pants from when we had the inn to ourselves reverberate in my brain and I move to that rhythm. The one she taught me.

She shifts back on the mattress, riding the tidal wave I’m creating. I follow her, climbing up to follow her one leg at a time, angling her, moving her exactly where she should be. So much easier with ropes. I glance to the closet where I have them hanging loose. Wouldn’t be a moment to grab one and go to work. But I’d have to leave this silky haven, and that ain’t happening. Not even for a minute. Not even to make it better because it’s damn fine already. Best ever.

I brush the hair back from her forehead so I can focus on her beautiful eyes. She blinks up at me, locked in the moment until she bites her lip and glances away. I’m too intense. It’s too soon for what I’m feeling for her, so I bottle it up and focus on the task at hand. Giving her more pleasure than anyone has gifted her before. Making sure that even if she does leave, she’ll come back searching for what we have. Carving myself into her soul like someone inked that butterfly into her skin.

She wraps her legs around my hips, tying me deep inside. With a flick of my hips, I flip us so she’s on top, can take what she wants without working so hard. Gives me a chance to finger her the way she needs to really let go. She’s riding me so good, breasts bouncing, hands tugging her hair up and away. She’s a fucking spread in a magazine and I’m the only lucky fucker who can see her like this. There’s a moment when my cock tells me to turn her again, take her from behind and own her, but I ignore the urge. She’s too beautiful right where she is. Her body freezes, head tilted to the ceiling, eyes closed. Now. I press hard on her magic button, adding the pressure she likes and she goes off like a storm. Her thighs, her pussy, her hands, everything is squeezing me as she releases a flood over my dick. As soon as she softens, I roll us again and pound into her wet heat a few more times before I unload into the condom so hard I should be worried about breaking it. The last bit of cum jerks out of my tip and I fall to the side. The exhaustion from the day rolls over me like a wave, taking me down. With quick swipe, I grab a couple tissues and manage to get the condom wrapped up. Not the best but it will do for now. Because there’s no way I can keep my eyes open for a minute longer.

My alarm rocks me from my sex coma and I roll over to shut if off. I open my mouth to apologize to SJ for getting up so early but…

She’s gone.

I shove back the blanket and swing my feed over the bed. At least she threw a blanket over me. The nasty tissue ball is right were I left it. I pick it up and head to the toilet. No time to worry about what’s going on in SJ’s brain. There’s a resort to finish. The sick twinge that maybe I got used last night lingers after my shower. Except, she asked me to be her date. She’s got me so twisted up. Thankfully, Gabe is picking me up this morning so I don’t have to sad sack it all the way to the job site.

Amy left two breakfast sandwiches for me in the fridge and the coffee finished brewing a moment ago. She truly cares for people, nurtures them with food and shelter. Is SJ a good person? It’s not fair to compare her to Amy who I’ve known for years. But what do I really know about SJ besides the fact I crave her. Why?

The sex is awesome, but rain in the desert always seems like a miracle and I’ve kept myself locked off from intimacy. With a shake of my head, I free myself from these circular questions that have no answers. Maybe instead of romance, she should start writing mysteries, because she is one.

I grab my breakfast from the air fryer and wrap them in paper towels, coffee thermos under one arm, and head out into the already brightening sky. Summer hours may be the one thing that allows us to make the deadline for the soft opening. Gabe pulls into the drive as I grab the tools from the SUV. I’ve gotta get my truck out here. Should have already flown back to Missouri to get it. But with one thing and another, Blake’s accident, this construction project there’s been no time. When SJ leaves and the club is open, I’ll take care of that piece of business. But first, finish the Yacht Club.

It’s done. Phase one of the resort is basically done and the restaurant looks star-spangled. Everything gleams, floor to ceiling windows showcasing the beautiful mountain view, servers working the room with fancy small food and drinks both virgin and spiked. Everyone is here, Gabe and Katherine, Amy and Tyler, and a bunch of people from our old club all dressed up and bunched in clusters chatting. A tall man with dark hair and trim beard stands next to Blake who is the only one not smiling, but every accommodation we made for his mobility worked flawlessly. He was able to enter the restaurant unassisted. Wait until he finds out about all voice activation we integrated into their condo. Talk about some high-tech fancy shit. If I hadn’t tested it myself I’d never believe it. Eliot and Cade are working the door, checking invitations against the list.

SJ slips her fingers into my hand and I guide her over to our group. I glance around. “Where’s Reed?”

Blake tilts his head back to scowl at me. “He had to fly back. Some emergency with closing on the house.”

The guys share a business, property, and everything else. I’m not sure if they have more than one to sell and Blake doesn’t seem to be in a talkative mood. Instead of pushing him to engage, I address the man beside him. “Alex Craig.”

He clasps my outstretched hand. “Simon St. James.”

His accent sounds British.

“Nice to meet you.” Blake should be doing the introductions but he’s too busy being pissed off about who knows what. Well besides the obvious wheel chair thing. But fuck bro, you’re alive and at a club. Not about to go there with him.

“I’m Mr. Foster’s attorney.” I glance at Blake to see what he thinks about being called “Mr. Foster.” He’s staring out one of the windows ignoring us.

“Right,” I say to the lawyer. Eliot had mentioned they were suing for damages and long term care costs. This is not a conversation to have here and now. “This is SJ Redding.”

Simon’s eyes spark as he greets my date. I almost didn’t think she’d keep our date after she left me alone in bed, but I couldn’t imagine being at the event with her not officially attached to me. My inner redneck would have chafed on that one. The fact that she looks incredible only would have stung more. Her clingy blue dress makes her eyes stand our even more than they usually do. I’ll take it off her as soon as I can.

She insisted, before we came tonight that as my date, I would do a rope scene with her. It was a no brainer to agree, but I’m not ready to share her, not publicly. The private room is reserved. I glance around the restaurant, which I’ve spent so much time in while it was being built, empty, but moving toward this. Somehow seeing it serving the intended function, disconnects me. It’s no longer mine. It’s the chef’s room and the resort’s main dining venue. It belongs to the guest.

Stone is talking to Delilah Rosen, the architect for the resort. She smiles at me as I approach with SJ in tow. There’s an urge to turn and run. Working with her has been…challenging. But in the end she was right about almost everything.

“Nice job on the details, Alex.” She’s dressed in a shiny red dress and matching spike heels. There’s no doubt she’d spank my ass if she was unhappy with any of it. Stone would probably let her or at least hold me down.

“Glad you approve. Looking forward to working on the next phase with you.” That’s an exaggeration born from my Southern manners. But she doesn’t seem to bother Gabe near as much as she does me. “Mind if I steal Stone away for a moment?”

Stone doesn’t wait for her to answer. He excuses himself and moves SJ and me to a quiet corner. “What’s up?”

I glance at SJ. Part of me would rather do this without all the proper forms, but no. With a deep breath in, I rush through my request. “Have a room reserved to do a scene. Need a consent form for SJ.”

“Follow me.” We head to the bar. “Cassie?”

The young curvy bartender we met at Pandora darts over to Stone. “Sir?”

Really? She calls Stone “sir?” After a brief inaudible exchange, she grabs a clipboard and hands it to him. He hands it to me. “Go sit down and talk. Fill this out. I’ll send Pierce over to witness your signature, SJ.”

I nod and take a step.

“You cool with Cade and me as spotters?” Hadn’t considered needing that, but the downstairs isn’t fully staffed with dungeon masters or any staff really.

“Inside or outside?” I ask.

“Outside. Door unlocked, audio on.” Stone can listen in on wireless earbuds.

“That works,” I say. Stone doesn’t move, his gaze boring into SJ.

She nods, but Stone doesn’t move a muscle.

“Yes, sir,” she says, and he nods approvingly.

Fuck . He’s a total Dom. I’m an alpha, love to top my rope bunnies, but he’s something else entirely.

Sitting in a booth, we go over what I’m going to do with my ropes and the suspension.

“We need safe words. You cool with red, yellow, green?”

“Sure.”

I have doubts whether she’d actually use them. A hint of doubt hits the back of my neck. Have to be extra cautious with checking the tension and keeping her talking. “I might not actually take you off the ground, it has to feel right to me.” Despite her wanting that, me wanting that, that doubt has me warning her. “And any sexual interaction isn’t guaranteed. Both of us have to be okay then. Whatever we talk about, agree to now, the consent can be revoked.”

She finally looks at me and nods. “I understand. I want this Alex, I’ve been asking you to do this since we first got together.”

I’ve resisted despite wanting her wrapped up and under my control so badly. It’s leftover worry from what went wrong back in that hay barn. It’s been years. Time to get over it. SJ isn’t Alyss. Despite the lingering doubt and the seriousness of the negotiation, I’m still excited to see what works with her body, test her flexibility which should be good with all the yoga she does.

“Where do I sign?” she asks, seemingly as excited as I am to start the scene.

“Hold up.” Pierce has to be here first. Finally, I spot him working his way through the crowd, several people from Pandora stopping him, probably to say hi and comment on the new club. When he get’s there, he asks if we’re ready. I hand him the paper. He takes his time, looking it over. “Any questions or concerns?”

The question is for SJ not me. I hold my breath because she could back out.

“No.”

“Safe words?”

She rattles off the stop light list. He hands her the paper and she signs it. Pierce signs it as a witness. It’s not a contract or anything so I don’t sign it. In fact, I don’t think I’ve used anything like this since I first started playing. And I wouldn’t have asked for one with SJ, but with the new club, the new insurance, and a mix of nonmembers, the guys decided any private rooms used tonight had to have one in place. We’ll check all the security we added after the event and make sure we can retrieve audio/video security footage if needed. This is a dry run of all the systems.

I’m not worried at all about the tech. Blake designed it and Eliot over saw the installation. But as the saying goes, trust but verify.