Master of the Abyss

Chapter One

The sound of melodic laughter added a sweet note to the country-western music drumming through the ClaimJumper tavern. With a slight smile, Jake Hunt tipped his chair back against the rough log wall and took in the view of the women at a corner table. Gina, Andrea, Serena-all of them tall, curvy, feminine. Beautiful women. Over the last two years, he’d dated all three. Perhaps when he’d been only twenty, he might have prided himself on that-but now? No girlfriend, no wife, no children. No plans for any. That’s pitiful, Hunt.

A fourth woman sat at the table, Kallie Masterson, and he gave her a speculative look. He’d seen her around over the last couple of years but never paid much attention to the grown-up tomboy. However, if Serenity Lodge teamed up with the Masterson Wilderness Guides like he and Logan were considering, she’d be one of the people they’d deal with.

In marked contrast with the other women, Kallie had short black hair that appeared as if she cut it herself-with a knife-and no makeup. Rather than a pretty top like the others, she wore a red flannel shirt that completely hid her small frame. Baggy jeans and scarred boots. He shook his head. Women were definitely equal to men and should be treated that way, but why the hell would a woman try to look like a man?

Or act like one. Serena had once mentioned that Kallie had tried to outmacho the boys all through high school. He sized her up. Maybe twenty-five or twenty-six, she appeared to have turned into a pint-size Chuck Norris.

As he watched, she bounced up, hands waving, relating a story that sent the others into hysterics. Jake grinned. Most women’s high-pitched giggles reminded him of champagne bubbles, but Kallie’s husky chuckle? Coke. Yep, a Coke would bubble pleasantly at rest, but shake it up and it’d froth all over you-and eat the corrosion off your battery too.

“Jake!” Serena abandoned the table of women and glided across the room.

He rose to his feet. “Serena, what can I do for you?”

“I’m twenty-five today, and I want a birthday kiss.” She tossed her blonde, wavy hair back over her shoulder and flirted up at him through long lashes.

“I might be able to handle that.” He pulled her into his arms, all fragrant woman, and kissed her thoroughly enough to have the mostly male bar cheering. As she plastered herself against him, his cock gave only a few jerks in token interest.

Nothing new and not her fault. She was exactly the type of woman he enjoyed: soft, sweet, and lush. But these days, a good book held more attraction than a good lay. As he pulled back, she clung, so he gently eased her arms from around his neck, then squeezed her shoulder. “Happy birthday, sugar.”

She hesitated, obviously hoping for more, but he resumed his seat.

Her face fell. “Fine,” she muttered and returned to her table, hips swaying, every man in the place watching.

Jake tipped his chair back against the wall and drank some more beer. The clock above the bar read nine. Almost time to go meet his brother down the street. Meantime he’d enjoy the entertainment. Pretty women, good music, and…ah, perhaps a little action. In the center of the room, some idiot tourist was taunting Barney, a logger built a whole lot like the purple dinosaur that bore the same name. Did the tourist have a death wish?

And there went the domino effect: Barney rose to his feet and delivered a solid right cross. The tourist crashed into a table filled with loggers. Two pitchers of beer unloaded their contents over the burly men. One soaked man threw his chair at Barney. The chair bounced off and hit a biker. The biker jumped to his feet.

And then the whole bar erupted.

Jake laughed and dropped his chair legs back on the floor. He hadn’t been in a brawl in a year or two-Logan said he’d turned into an old man.

As he headed for the free-for-all, high-pitched shrieks drew his attention to the women’s corner. Blocked from escaping through the entrance, Andrea, Gina, and Serena had barricaded themselves behind the table. Kallie stood in front, one scruffy sprite, boots planted, guarding the territory. Looked rather like Toto trying to defend Dorothy from all comers.

The woman was dumber than-Jake blinked in stupefaction when little Toto sidestepped a drunk, then shoved him hard enough that his trajectory altered to miss the women’s table. The man hit the wall with a nice crunch. Kallie laughed and bounced on her toes. She slugged another guy in the breadbasket and dodged as he landed on hands and knees. Jake grinned. Not bad. Not bad at all. Nonetheless, a barroom brawl was no place for a woman.

He glanced toward the main knot of fighting, where the bikers surrounded Barney. Too close to the front door. Even as Jake looked, Barney threw a man across the room-straight for the women’s area. Having turned to check her friends, Kallie didn’t have a chance. The biker slammed into her ass, flattening her like a pancake onto the sawdust floor.

Oh hell. Jaw tensed, Jake shoved his way past two brawlers and kicked another out of his way to get to her. He lifted the biker off and flung him at Barney before dropping to one knee. So small. Limp. Not moving.

The gut-twisting memory of a different body-of Mimi’s body-slid into his brain like an icy knife, and cold sweat slicked his palms. “Kallie?” He touched her cheek. Don’t be dead. Dammit.

When she inhaled with a harsh sound, relief made his head spin. Get a grip, Hunt.

She was already moving-just had the wind knocked out of her. In fact, she was very much alive and using words that would make his mother blanch.

“Fucking son of a bitch,” Kallie snarled. What had hit her? She was lying on her stomach on the damned tavern floor. Rising slightly, she wiped sawdust off her face and gagged at the stench of stale beer. Whoever hit me is going to die.

With a grunt, she pushed herself up to a sitting position, and for a second, she would have sworn angels were singing. And then, to her regret, the music descended into the noise of men yelling and Swedish curses as the owner tried to move the fighting outside. She took a breath and waited for the world to stop swirling. She’d still kill whoever had hit her-but maybe later.

“Let’s see the damage, sugar,” said a deep, rumbling voice. Hard hands closed around her arms, steadying her.

She looked up at a darkly tanned, lean face. Strong jaw with a faint cleft in the chin. Thick brown hair. Cobalt blue eyes. Jake Hunt. Oh wonderful-of all the people to see her like this. Kallie tried to pull away.

His grip tightened. “Hold still.”

“Let go of me.”

Ignoring her, he ran his hands down her shoulders and arms, his eyes intent on her face, his touch gentling when she winced. “Banged your shoulder up some.”

“I’m fine.” The knowledge that she had Jake Hunt checking her over made her want to sink back to the floor in embarrassment. She tried to shove his hands away with as much success as moving a granite boulder. “I don’t need any help, got it?”

“Anything else hurt?”

His gaze ran over her body, and she flushed, acutely conscious of her less-than-hourglass shape-more like a two-legged pear. Scarred face or not, the man could have had any woman in Bear Flat and had dated most of the good-looking ones. She wasn’t one of them.

“No, nothing hurts,” she muttered.

“Your jaw is bruised.” He cupped her cheek with a big hand and tilted her face toward the light. “Did you bang your head? Let’s see your eyes.”

“I said I’m fine.” Averting her eyes from his intense gaze, she tried to push his hand away again. Unsuccessfully.

His voice roughened. “Look at me, Kallie.”

The low, commanding tone shook her bones, and she shivered. Her gaze flashed up involuntarily.

His eyes narrowed, becoming more intent until she felt like a deer trapped by a cougar. She swallowed hard.

A smile flickered over his angular face. “Well now,” he murmured. “Appearances can be deceiving, can’t they? Aren’t you supposed to be tougher than any man around?” His hand still gentle on her cheek, he ran a thumb over her lips, sending a tremor through her, followed by a wave of heat.

Wimp. Wuss. Her muscles had turned to water, but she managed to grasp his wrist, trying not to notice the thick bones, the steely tendons. She firmed her voice, and it still came out sounding all girlie and weak. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he asked softly. And he regarded her…differently…in a way that sizzled straight to the center of her body.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered and pushed his hand away.

Amusement lit his eyes, and a corner of his mouth turned up, creasing his cheek. “Oddly enough, I think I like looking at you.”

“Oh sure you do. So are you the one who hit me?”

“I don’t hit women,” he growled…and then his lips quirked up. “There are much better ways to punish sassy wenches.”

At the assessing look he gave her, she could feel her face flame red.

“That’s a fine color on you, sugar,” he murmured and grasped her upper arms, lifting her to her feet as if she weighed no more than a doll. As the room did a fast merry-go-round, Kallie sagged.

He put an iron-hard arm around her waist to keep her upright. She’d had dreams of having his arm around her, but somehow they’d never included being knocked sprawling in a bar first.

“Hey, Kallie.” Barney poked his head in the entrance, eliciting a stream of curses from the grizzled Swede who owned the tavern. “I’m sorry. I threw him at the door, not at you.”

“You hit me with a person?” When they’d played baseball in high school, Barney’s aim had been notoriously bad; it obviously hadn’t improved any. After a second, she laughed and shook her head-whoa, not a good move. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

Giving his gap-toothed smile, Barney disappeared back out the door, and his roar of battle glee drifted in with the night air.

“Nice of you to forgive him,” Jake said as he guided her to a chair. When he stepped away, the warmth of his hands still lingered on her waist.

“He’s too big to kill easily.”

Jake’s laugh sent chills across her skin. When her friends surrounded her and their perfume smothered his clean, masculine scent, Kallie felt relieved. Mostly.

“Girl, I can’t believe you’re all right. You landed really bad.” Gina swooped her hands to demonstrate Kallie’s dive and face-plant.

Great. Bet he found that just hilarious.

His grin confirmed her opinion, and then he slid a finger down her cheek. “You know, little sprites shouldn’t be fighting.”

From anyone else in the world, she might have found the remark amusing. From him, after wanting him for so long, it simply hurt. Trying to ignore the way her skin tingled in the wake of his touch, she gave him a cold look. “I’m not little, and I’m not a sprite. Thanks for the help-now go away.”

“You’re welcome. Sprite.” He glanced at his watch, winced, and shot a stern look at her friends. “Someone take her home.” Before anyone could respond, he walked away.

As he left the bar, Gina sniffed. “Such a shame that bossy looks so good on him.” She patted Kallie’s shoulder. “Let me get my purse, and I’ll drive you home. You really-”

“I really need a beer,” Kallie interrupted. “No, two beers. And a burger and fries. I just got back from a week in the backcountry, and I’m not running home because some pushy”- gorgeous-“person”- bastard-“thinks I should.”

She’d watched her friends turn all syrupy whenever Jake Hunt touched them. Now she’d done the same thing-and she didn’t like it one bit.

He watched from the shadows, unwilling to join in the fighting. His battle wasn’t against his fellow men-his brothers-but against evil.

The small woman who had fought, who actually struck a male, had caught his eye. Dark hair and dark eyes were often markings of the devil.

He would watch. He would see.

His coffee sent a thin line of steam up into the chill morning air. With a sigh of enjoyment, Jake set one foot on the porch rail and settled comfortably in his chair as the sun edged up from behind the white-capped eastern mountains. At his feet, Thor snoozed, his black-furred muzzle resting on Jake’s boot. The dog had chased a bear away from the cabins last night and apparently felt he’d earned his rest.

Jake frowned. He and Thor needed to have a chat. They had named the place Serenity Lodge, not Barking Dog Cabins. Then again, could anything be more serene than a summer morning in the Sierra Nevada?

Logan’s rough voice from inside the lodge indicated his brother was awake, and when Rebecca’s laugh floated out, Jake knew breakfast wouldn’t be too long in coming. And a damn good breakfast since Rebecca cooked like a dream. Logan had lucked out to find himself such a soft, sweet woman-well, she did have a temper, but that simply added some spice to a relationship. Very feminine, though; in fact, she’d worn tailored shirts and designer jeans on her first visit to the lodge.

Jake grinned and shook his head, thinking of Kallie Masterson, the direct opposite of feminine for whatever reason. He’d known women who worked in male-dominated fields. Some downplayed their charms when on the job, but not all the time. He might have thought she preferred women, but the notion had bit the dust last night when she’d warmed so sweetly under his hands and eyes.

He took a sip of coffee. A man had to wonder how she’d react to a more…personal…touch. And what she was concealing underneath those flannel shirts and baggy jeans. His hands had curved around a nice waist, one that flared out to what was probably a lushly rounded ass. When the thought of peeling her jeans off to see that ass made him harden, he huffed a laugh and shook his head. Not going there.

The way her beautiful eyes-so dark a brown they were almost black-had widened at his command told him she wasn’t experienced in the games he enjoyed playing. And he sure as hell didn’t want another vulnerable woman. The thought of Mimi’s face as she had knelt before him and pleaded with him to keep her stabbed his heart. He wasn’t cut out for a serious relationship-didn’t need one, didn’t want one.

Especially a submissive who didn’t even realize her nature, let alone one living in Bear Flat. He’d dated quite a few women from town but kept the dates strictly vanilla. When he required a submissive for some BDSM play, he went farther afield. Considering how badly he’d screwed up with a sub once, he never sought anything more than light play.

He watched as the sun warmed the mountain slopes and patches of white fog drifted upward. No. He wouldn’t pursue anything with Kallie. Besides, he and Logan were discussing a business agreement with the Mastersons and their guide service.

Yet she appealed to him so much that he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Which was rather odd. Since she’d returned to Bear Flat a couple of years ago, he’d never said more to her than good morning, had only been aware enough of her to be irritated by her manner and clothing.

Perhaps he should have been impressed instead. She was a good guide, he knew. And apparently a good friend. He grinned, remembering her defense of the women last night. All that courage in such a small bundle. She’d gotten knocked ass over teakettle and hadn’t whined, hadn’t cried-just cursed like a lumberjack. When he’d helped her up, she’d fairly vibrated with energy.

And heat.

She wanted him. Jake took a sip of coffee, remembering the feel of her, the sexual sizzle between them. She wanted him and didn’t like the fact. He didn’t either.

And it didn’t seem to matter, especially against the memory of her melting under his command. A submissive.

Jake tipped his head back as an eagle soared high, becoming a black speck in the pale gray sky. As he lifted his coffee, his hand stilled. Submissive. Business. Hell. He tossed the remainder of his drink into a nearby bush and headed into the lodge.

As he entered the kitchen, he saw Rebecca smack Logan’s knuckles with a wooden spatula.

“Keep those fingers away from the bacon,” she snapped.

Logan shook his hand, then grabbed her arms and lifted her onto tiptoes. “Little rebel, you’re going to pay for that.”

The sub’s body went limp. She smiled at Logan and said in a throaty voice, “Okay.”

Jake snorted a laugh.

Frowning, Logan set her down and glanced at Jake. “Can’t even scare her these days. What am I going to do?”

“You’re too easy on her, and she gets off on being spanked.” Jake leaned a shoulder against the door frame. “Try a whip.”

Logan crossed his arms and studied her. “Possible…possible…”

Rebecca’s eyes widened, and she sidled away from him, abandoning her bacon.

“Speaking of whips,” Jake said. “If I could have your attention before you start stripping her down, there’s something we should discuss with the Mastersons.”

“That would be?”

“What happens on a guide trip when one of our guests pulls out handcuffs? Or a flogger.”

A few days later, Kallie took her time picking stones and crud out of Midnight’s hoof and ignored the sound of Wyatt and Morgan fidgeting behind her. Thank God Virgil had chosen to be a cop, or she’d have all three of her cousins behind her.

The normally comforting scent of straw and horses clogged her throat as she carefully examined the horse’s frog and checked the horseshoe. Pity that this was the last hoof to clean. Couldn’t stall anymore, despite the bomb her cousins had dropped on her. At least she’d managed to get her face smoothed out to unreadable, although her stomach churned as if she’d chugged a pitcher of beer.

The late afternoon sun streaming into the barn made the dust in the air glow as she turned to face her cousins. “Now what do you mean, we’re going to be seeing a lot of the Hunt brothers?”

With her cat sitting at his feet, Wyatt leaned against the opposite stall, a pleased smile on his face. Morgan had the same smug expression. Good-looking guys. Sure they loomed over her like every other person in the world, but she figured they’d be a lot shorter after she killed them dead.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Well?”

“We talked about this before, cuz,” Wyatt said, taking point as he always did on the trails, leaving Morgan to bring up the rear. “You said they wouldn’t be interested, but we ran into them at the feed store last week, and they thought it was a great idea. We’ve had a couple of discussions, and it’ll work out well.”

Oh wonderful. “So Logan and Jake will pimp our guide services, and in return, we’ll book our incoming clients at their lodge instead of in Yosemite Village.”

“Yep.” Morgan grinned. “Means more business for all of us. Jake will still handle the day trips for their guests, but we’ll get any overnights or longer. If our clients spend the night locally, we’ll be able to hit the trails earlier.”

Fine, it was a practical idea, but it meant she’d be running into Jake Hunt all the time, and that wasn’t a comfortable thought. Either the man ignored her or wore a faintly disapproving expression-both were damned annoying. Then again, the way he’d looked at her last weekend…might be worse. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

But to say I don’t like the way Jake Hunt looks at me to her cousins? No way. So she’d deal with it. It’s not like Jake would come on any guided trips, and she could probably avoid him when picking up the clients at the lodge. Trouble is, will I want to? “I suppose that makes sense.”

“The only drawback we’ve found is that the lodge has a rep for accommodating kinky groups.” Wyatt’s brows drew together. “We’d heard rumors about the place; Logan confirmed they’re true.”

“Kinky like what?” Jake and kink. The thought took her breath away.

“Like bondage and BSMD”-Morgan frowned-“or BMDS.”

“BDSM, doofus, and swingers and gay clubs. Whatever.” Wyatt scratched the three-day-old stubble on his cheek. He never shaved when he was on the trail with a group. “If they have a…specialty…weekend, they’ll black out the days, so we don’t book clients then.”

When Mufasa glided over, Kallie leaned down and stroked the cat’s soft fur. “I guess that sounds all right.” Surely the clients wouldn’t do weird stuff in front of her.

“The thing is their…people…are going to want to…you know,” Wyatt said.

She gave him an exasperated look. “I don’t know what ‘you know’ means.” Then again, she might. Serena’s romance books were pretty…interesting. And Kallie had actually tried a few things when she was in college. Handcuffs. Spanking. In the books, BDSM had sounded thrilling; in real life, it had been a dud. Wouldn’t her cousins hit the roof if she mentioned that?

“Yeah. We told Logan you wouldn’t.”

She snorted. “Like you have more experience?”

Wyatt’s dark tan acquired a red hue. “Morgan and I have seen some, and we told Logan that we’re okay with it.”

“You have?” Whoa, new information here. “You are?” Who are you guys, and what did you do with my cousins?

“It’s not our thing, but we got around when we were younger.” Morgan waggled his thick brows. “San Francisco has everything.”

Wyatt glared at him. “Watch your mouth.”

Kallie sighed. Her cousins usually treated her as one of the guys. With Uncle Harvey’s “Everyone is equal in this house” rules, they’d been fine with her being a guide, but perversely, equality didn’t include anything having to do with sex. If they could dress her like a nun, they would, and Wyatt, with his love of the Old West, was the worst of them all.

“Don’t worry about it, Kallie,” he said. “You’re not going to guide any of the lodge’s…special…guests.”

The sense of insult was instant. “That’s pretty sexist of the Hunts. I’m as good as you guys, probably better.”

Morgan grinned at the long-standing competition of “who’s best,” then sobered. “It wasn’t the Hunt’s decision, cuz; it was ours.”

“But…why?” Her chest constricted painfully. Were they trying to ease her out of the business? Hadn’t everything been going well?

“Kallie, these people are doing…” Wyatt’s color grew close to that of a beet. “Those people might have sex-in the open. In front of you.”

“Oh, honestly.” She shook her head. “Listen. If they do weird things in the forest, I’ll just close my eyes.”

“Even if we agreed, Logan insists the guides need to be comfortable with guests, uh, playing during a hiking trip. And you’ve never even seen anything…”

She should take the out. She wouldn’t have to go to the lodge and would be able to avoid Jake. But she’d worked too hard to fit in and be part of the business…and to live here with them. They were the only relatives who had let her stay, and she wasn’t going to risk their love for something as stupid as discomfort. Besides… “It sounds like the lodge will bring in a fair amount of business. We can’t afford to have one of us three not handling some of it-it’d screw up the scheduling big-time.”

From the unhappy expression on her cousins’ faces, they’d realized that too.

She sighed. “So how does Logan suggest we solve the dilemma of me not being adequately informed about ‘you know’?”

“A BDSM club will be at the lodge this Friday,” Morgan said. “He offered to show you around and explain things.”

Wyatt folded his arms over his chest, looking stubborn. “We told him you wouldn’t be involved.”

“Guess you’ll have to tell him different.” Kallie crossed her arms too and gave him the same look back. “‘Everyone is equal in this house,’ remember?” She could see they were torn in two directions-wanting to keep her safe and acknowledging the business concerns. But they couldn’t win against Uncle Harvey’s maxim.

Wyatt raked a hand through his hair. “Kallie. Even if we let you-”

“You can’t stop me, dude.”

He leaned over and squeezed her arm, his brown eyes concerned. “Morgan’s got a fishing group booked, and I’m going to be guiding that mountaineering bunch. You can’t go to that place by yourself. We need to wait for another party, when we’re available to go with you. ”

“And that will be how long?”

“Another six weeks,” Morgan said.

She rolled her eyes. “If you think about it, you might realize that I’ll be by myself if I’m guiding them. I might as well go by myself now. Besides, won’t Logan watch out for me?”

They still looked unhappy.

“Tell you what-I’ll close my eyes whenever something looks interesting.”

Morgan and Wyatt had felt guilty, and Kallie had taken full advantage of them. They ended up taking her turns at shopping and kitchen duty for a week, and she wouldn’t have to guide that ego-ridden group of yuppies on Monday.

It helped just a little when contemplating what was to come.

On Friday night, she pulled her Jeep into Serenity’s small parking area and turned off the ignition. After a glance at the lodge, she laid her head on the steering wheel in pure misery.

Jake would probably be in there, damn the man. She’d fallen for his looks on first sight-what woman with a hormone in her body wouldn’t? But it was the little glimpses she’d caught of him that had done her in: plucking old Mrs. Peterson’s grocery sack from her arms and carrying it to the car, kneeling to admire five-year-old Olivia’s new kitten, helping push Dan’s car out of a mud hole in the pouring rain. He simply assumed it was his job to help the weaker ones-he reminded her of Uncle Harvey. Yeah, she’d fallen for more than his body.

After climbing out of the Jeep, she scowled at the number of cars in the lot and her doubts rose. There must be a lot of kinky people at the party. But still, that didn’t bother her as much as the Jake Hunt dilemma. Maybe she should have tried to explain her discomfort to Wyatt and Morgan…

Guys, it’s like this: First, if Jake frowns at me like he usually does-as if I’m dog meat-my feelings will be hurt. I’m liable to kick him, and that’s considered bad for business relations.

Second, if I have to watch him…doing…some woman, well, that will hurt too. It was bad enough getting secondhand reports from her friends. How wonderful Jake was in bed, how thorough, how caring. She frowned. Wasn’t it odd they’d never done anything kinky with him? Maybe only the lodge guests were into the BDSM stuff, and he wasn’t. Not that it mattered to her what he did in his bed. Nope.

Third, if he looks at me like he did last time-just the thought made her heart race-then I’ll go belly-up like a whipped dog, beg him to take me, and never be able to look him in the face afterward. Once again, poor business relations.

Oh, wouldn’t those confessions go over well with Wyatt and Morgan. She snickered. Although they knew she dated, they never allowed themselves to think about what that might mean.

She kicked the Jeep door shut and walked into the wide clearing. The cool night air, scented with pine, ruffled her hair. Lights glimmered from the small cabins in the trees, knee-high solar lanterns delineated the pathways, and one larger light beamed from the two-story log building. As she strolled across the open space to the lodge, an owl glided low, wings lit by the bright porch light. Like a tank dropping out of the sky, it landed on a tiny rodent. The poor mouse squeaked helplessly.

She knew just how it felt.

Okay, let’s get this over with. Kallie crossed the wide porch and almost stumbled over a massive dog sprawled in front of the door. It stood, some sort of German shepherd mix, and stared at her. She took a step in retreat, then saw his full tail wave back and forth. A nice dog. She wouldn’t be getting her throat ripped out tonight, and wasn’t that a shame. She petted him and laughed when he leaned his weight against her legs and almost bowled her over. “I’d rather hang out with you, dog. But guess I’m stuck.”

As the dog flopped back down, Kallie pulled open the heavy front door. After stepping inside, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. The room smelled like leather and wood smoke, perfume and sex. It even sounded like sex. Over the music of a Gregorian chant, a man groaned, long and low. Slapping sounds were accompanied by a woman’s whimpering.

Kallie swallowed hard as the room came into focus. To the left, leather couches sat around a stone fireplace with a crackling fire, and past that, a naked man bent over, facing the wall. In the firelight, his pale buttocks displayed red welts in even rows.

Kallie’s eyes widened. Is this what Wyatt had meant by “you know”?

On the log walls, lanterns with amber-tinted glass cast circles of golden light, leaving other areas in shadow. She saw more seating arrangements here and there, defined by colorful rag rugs and dark red chairs. Farther down the room, people engaged in activities she couldn’t quite make out. Wasn’t sure she wanted to. The cracking sound-was the man at the end using a whip? Her hands closed into fists.

To her right, a blonde in a shiny latex catsuit held a lit candle over a woman tied to a desk. Wax dripped onto bare breasts. A splat. A gasp.

That looked…really painful. What would it feel like? To be unable to move. Naked. Waiting for something hot to land on your nipples. Painful or…erotic?

Her body said erotic. Her bra felt…tight, and even her baggy jeans managed to press on disconcertingly sensitive places. Okay, Wyatt had been right; she really wasn’t prepared for this.

The blonde caught her staring and gave Kallie an assessing look before smiling. Kallie sucked in a breath and nodded back. I’m cool. Experienced woman, seen it all in my time. Really. What the hell was she doing here? Morgan and Wyatt should have explained a lot more about the “you know” stuff. Oh, they were going to suffer-painfully-before she killed them. Maybe she could borrow that guy’s whip.

Then again, her cousins might not have realized… Maybe the places they’d visited in San Francisco weren’t as…much. Whatever. Well, now that she’d done as Logan had required and taken a look, maybe she could just sneak out and-

“You joining us tonight, baby?” A tall, skinny guy in a black biker jacket grinned at her.

Caught. “No, I’m not. Is Logan around?”

“That’s a shame. I’ll get him.”

As Kallie’s gaze followed the man heading for the back of the room, she spotted a woman chained, facing the far wall, dressed in only a thong. The guy in front of her held an English riding crop, and when he whopped her on the thigh, she yelped.

Kallie winced and somehow, weirdly, felt excitement trickle down her spine. Okay, I really, really need a beer.

“You made it.” Logan strolled up, gripping a lushly built woman by the scruff of her neck.

Kallie shifted her weight uncomfortably. Was that his fiancée, Rebecca? Kallie had met her in town only once. Aside from Jake, Serenity Lodge didn’t socialize much. A scream came from across the room, and Kallie amended that assumption. They didn’t socialize in Bear Flat much. “Yeah, I’m here.”

Ill at ease under Logan’s observant eyes, Kallie glanced at Rebecca and felt even more out of place. The redhead’s emerald green corset emphasized every full curve she had, and gave Kallie a moment of envy. Must be nice to have breasts. Her garter belt and garters held up black fishnet stockings, and a thin leather collar was around her neck. No other clothes, though-not even a thong.

Rebecca stared at the floor, hands clasped in front of her… Or no, padded leather cuffs fastened her wrists together. This was so not the polished woman whom Kallie had met, and worry gnawed at her stomach. Rebecca looked so subservient; surely Logan didn’t beat her. The number of scars on his knuckles suddenly seemed menacing.

“I’m glad you came,” Logan said.

She yanked her gaze from his hands. “Ah. I’m pleased to be here.” She shrugged, not wanting to say, You didn’t leave me much choice.

The wicked grin indicated he knew it anyway. “Let’s start with-”

“Logan!” A man called from the other end of the room. “Need you and Becca here.”

“Never fails.” Logan checked over his shoulder and frowned. “Hang loose, Kallie, and I’ll be back to show you what’s up.”

As Logan wrapped an arm around Rebecca, she raised her head and winked at Kallie. A wink full of humor and not frightened at all.

Relieved, Kallie relaxed a trifle. She realized she was wringing her hands and shoved them in the front pockets of her jeans. There. Look casual. She swallowed hard. Hey, I see people manacled to log walls all the time. You bet. It’s a popular sport in Bear Flat. Gonna replace fishing soon.

The Gregorian chants blended with other worrisome noises. Like the hissing of a man cuffed to a big X-shaped frame against the wall. His testicles dangled between his spread legs, and a woman was winding leather around them. Kallie winced. She might not have that kind of equipment, but three cousins and a couple of boyfriends had taught her a little about their painful vulnerability.

“Kallie?”

She jumped at the sound of a smooth, deep voice. A truly gorgeous man stood in front of her, slightly shorter than the Hunt brothers-maybe six feet-and older, with silver flecks in his black hair. He wore a white, long-sleeved shirt and tailored black slacks, a very civilized look for the rustic lodge and a marked contrast to her battered field clothes.

“Yes, I’m Kallie.”

He held his hand out. “My name is Simon. Logan requested that I stay with you until he could return.”

Rescued! She shook his warm hand, uncomfortably aware how cold and damp her own must be. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Come, we’ll sit down by the fireplace. You can observe, and I’ll answer any questions you have.” He guided her to a massive leather couch and settled himself on the other end, relaxing with his arms stretched out along the back. Polite, friendly, not making any moves. She liked him already.

“I thought there would be more people,” Kallie offered after a minute. “My cousins said this was a club weekend.”

“In a way. We all belong to a San Francisco BDSM club, but we’re mainly friends who enjoy partying together and getting out of the city.”

So if Jake and Logan knew all these people, no weirdo would come at her with a whip and chains. Right? Just then a man walked past with a coiled whip attached to his belt. She eyed him, remembering the stuff from Serena’s romance novels. She would never have dreamed people did this in real life. Her discomfort increased.

Simon smiled. “Relax, pet. We all have our own submissives-well, except for Jake. You won’t be harassed, and no one here minds observers or we wouldn’t play in public.”

“Oh. Good.” She frowned. “But I’m not a pet.”

“No?” He studied her for a minute and then nodded toward a man in black jeans and a T-shirt tying a woman facedown on a coffee table. “You don’t find watching a dom with his submissive to be exciting?”

The woman wore only a bustier and thong. The dom secured her legs open, then touched her intimately. Slowly. The woman wiggled and a minute later was moaning, raising her hips toward him. Smiling, the man stood up. When he patted her bottom affectionately, his fingers glistened.

Kallie released the breath she’d been holding. The room seemed overly hot. “It’s like watching a porn flick,” she muttered, tearing her gaze away. “Anyone would get interested.”

“Somewhat true,” Simon agreed. “However that was only the prelude. What do you think of the main act?”

“Excuse me?”

He tilted his head toward the dom and sub. Kallie turned in time to see the man bring his hand down onto the woman’s bare bottom with a resounding slap.

Kallie jerked as if he’d hit her instead. She couldn’t tear her gaze away as the man thoroughly spanked the woman…the submissive. Dear God. By the time he finished, Kallie was as damp as if she’d sat in a puddle. That was nothing-nothing!-like what she’d tried.

When she finally turned away, the gleam of amusement in Simon’s eyes told her exactly how readable her face must have been. “So, pet,” he said, not adding any emphasis to the word but making his point nonetheless. “Would you be interested in playing this evening?”

“I-” The thought of being the one tied to a table, having someone-Jake-slapping her bottom, touching her… “No. Of course not.”

He raised an eyebrow.

She flushed. “Besides, you told me everyone here is…attached.”

He looked over her head as if thinking, and his lips curved. “I believe I said Jake doesn’t have a sub here tonight.”

She snorted. “He doesn’t like me. He dates Marilyn Monroe types.” Not breastless, fat-assed women with no sex appeal.

“Oh? That seems odd. You have rather the appearance of his old girlfriend-same coloring and height.”

Jake had had a girlfriend? It must have been before Kallie returned to Bear Flat. And they resembled each other? Simon must be kidding.

“I really look like her?” When he chuckled, Kallie grimaced. How about I just stand up and announce that I have the hots for Jake Hunt? She stared at her feet. Maybe she’d just watch the hardwood floor until she could escape-don’t want the flooring to turn soft, right?-and not be looking at any more of this sex stuff.

But a pair of battered brown boots moved to interfere with her view of the hardwood floor. The hems of the jeans were worn to pure white in places. She lifted her gaze. A black T-shirt clung to six-pack abs and a heavily muscled chest. A corded neck. A lean, hard face with icy blue eyes.

Jake.