Rope 'Em Read online

  Started to call the cops about it then realized if you’re still there u cd be implicated in anything illegal. Plz let me know when you are away and safe. Take ur things and get a motel if u want, I will cover the charges. Will be there tomorrow to pick up. So sorry Vic. Especially after what happened in RI, this is last thing u needed to be faced with. Plz reply.

  Victoria’s gut clenched at the words call the cops, undoing most of the relaxation she’d achieved through ropework and orgasms. “Shiiiiit.”

  “At least she didn’t call the cops.” Ethan squeezed her tighter. “Of course if she had, this would’ve been the best night, because Chet’s working tonight and the call would go to the sheriff’s office because the ranch is outside the city limits. And most of the deputies either know what’s going on and are cool with it or know that Chet doesn’t want them asking questions about the supersecret party at his family’s place. But the call would’ve been documented through the dispatcher, so it still could’ve been bad.”

  Chet Garcia, Ethan and Logan’s cousin, was the sheriff of Bolero County . . . and one of the co-owners of Hilltop Ranch. He was also, as Victoria understood it, a frequent participant at Giddyup. Kink seemed to run in the boys’ family. And in this case, the connection made things a lot safer for Giddyup.

  The question still remained. “How do I answer? I have to keep her from driving up here.”

  “I gather you’re not out as kinky to your family. So . . . do you wanna be?” He leaned over her shoulder and gave her a slightly maniacal grin. The effect was enhanced by the under lighting from the phone’s screen. “If so, now’s your chance.”

  “Have you lost your only mind?”

  “I guess that’s a nope.”

  “I need something quick. She’s freaking out. Um . . .” Partial truths. She started texting.

  I’m fine. In cabin for the night.

  Ethan nodded his head, bumping his chin on her shoulder. “Smart. Doesn’t say whose cabin.”

  Don’t come here. U won’t get on to property anyway. Private club members only.

  She paused before hitting Send. “Um . . . what next . . . ? I need to make it sound like whatever she read may be true but it’s not a big deal. Oh!” For this one, she could tell nearly the whole truth.

  Also nothing to be sorry for. No need to pick me up. If ur worried about the kink it doesn’t bother me. I’m an artist, remember? I had friends in RI who were into much harder stuff than I’ve seen tonight. And if you come here I’ll lose my job and not have money to pay my bills. Please don’t screw this up for me. I am safe and comfortable here. Love you, too.

  She read it over and then sent it, hoping against hope it was enough to deflect Alexandra.

  Enough time passed before the brief reply that Victoria suspected her sister had either written and deleted several attempted responses or had been so stunned that she couldn’t even formulate words right away.

  OK. Won’t come. Will call or text you tomorrow.

  Ethan was still reading over her shoulder. “Well, that doesn’t seem ominous at all.”

  “Nope,” Victoria answered. “No sense of foreboding coming right through the screen or anything.”

  “What do you think she’s gonna do?”

  She gathered the blanket around herself again and stepped reluctantly away from him to place the phone on the floor by his gear bag. “No idea.”

  “I should probably warn Logan.” Ethan bent to touch the phone, lighting up the home screen. “It’s only eleven. Tell you what, you stay here. I’m going down the hill to give him a heads-up. I’ll grab some snacks and drinks and stuff while I’m down there, and maybe some extra blankets or something from the big house so we won’t wake up in the morning with splinters in our asses. Sound good?”

  He wanted her to spend the night? And there would be snacks? “That sounds amazing.”

  * * *

  Victoria woke to the sun in her eyes and the all-too-familiar buzz of a cell phone against plywood.

  “Fuck.” She struggled out from under Ethan’s arm, ignoring his mumbled protest, and grabbed the phone. “It’s another text from Alex.”

  “Mmm? What time is it?”

  “It’s . . . eight o’clock.”

  “Hmm.”

  I know you’re an adult and can make your own choices. I am trying really hard to respect that. But I love you and I can’t let you stay in a situation I don’t think is safe—

  Jesus, and Alex thought the vanilla world was any safer? True, there were abusers in the BDSM world just like anywhere else. And plenty of assholes. But there were also built-in protections, negotiations, safewords. Honestly, she felt like it evened out . . . and she felt infinitely safer and more respected at Giddyup than she’d ever felt at the few frat parties she’d attended with friends from Brown.

  —so I’m going to have to do *something* if you don’t get out of there. If you’re making money helping out this weekend, do that. But you need to get your résumés out there and find some other job before the next one of these Giddyup things—

  Damn, she’d named it. Heaven only knew what she’d found on-line about it.

  —or I’m going to have to at least tell Mom and Dad what’s going on. They’re worried enough as it is, so I really don’t want to do that.

  “Fuck me.” Victoria started typing a reply.

  Ethan hummed from over in the nest of comforters and blankets they’d bedded down in. “Mmm. ’Kay. Come closer first. Don’ wanna get up yet.”

  “Ha.”

  “Is that your sister?”

  “Yeah. Hang on.”

  I’ve already been looking for a job, but my field is competitive, I don’t have a degree, and I can’t afford to fly anywhere for in-person interviews. So I can’t make any promises about the time frame. Mom and Dad don’t need to worry. I’m fine. You trusted Mindy before you knew about Giddyup. That doesn’t need to change. Her sex life is her business—

  Victoria deleted the last sentence, realizing how wrong it would be if Alexandra took it literally, and sent the text. Alex replied quickly; she could thumb type like the wind.

  Not going there with you. That’s between me and her. Please call our parents. They’re worried and you’re crossing over into asshole or crazy territory about ignoring them. About everything. None of us think you’re behaving rationally anymore. Agreeing to work on a dude ranch, then staying when it turns out to be the new Chicken Ranch isn’t helping with that.

  Fingers shaking, Victoria exhaled and typed her response as fast as she could, her fingers making audible pats against the screen.

  No money is exchanged for sex here. It’s all consenting adults doing things that are nobody’s business but their own. The only one trying to do any harm here is you, threatening to out them and . . . idk, what are you saying, that you’ll try to have me committed because I dropped out of college, accepted a job you got me then took a dislike to, and neglected to call my parents for . . . what, a few weeks? Seriously? This isn’t the 1800s. I’ll call them when I’m ready. In the meantime, kindly back the fuck off.

  She stabbed a finger at the screen to send the text, then heard a swishing noise. Looking toward the makeshift bed, she saw Ethan sit halfway up and pull the bag of food toward himself. He pawed through the selections, looking delightfully mussed and heavy-eyed.

  “Banana or orange? Ham sandwich? Potato chips?”

  Victoria suddenly realized she was starving. “Yes, please.”

  “Attagirl. Keep your strength up. There’s another play party tonight, after all.”

  “Do you have a way to make coffee up here?”

  The phone buzzed in her hand and she sighed before lifting it to read Alex’s reply.

  Please get out of there before the next whatever weekend sex freak thing. I’m not sorry for trying to protect you. I love you, baby sis.

  She honestly had no idea how to respond. She typed and sent Love you, too without addressing anything else. It was too early and
she was too hungry and uncaffeinated to think about all that.

  Unfortunately, Ethan didn’t feel the same limitation. “What’d she say this time?”

  “Ugh. Basically that if I don’t find another job and leave here before the next Giddyup, she’ll tattle on me to our parents.” She sat down beside him with a flump, crossing her legs and leaning her chin on her hands like the child Alexandra clearly thought she was. “She also called Hilltop the Chicken Ranch and implied that if I stayed, the family might try to have me committed.”

  Ethan sat all the way up, agape. “This isn’t the fucking Victorian era.”

  “That’s what I said!”

  “Can people still do that? Well, I guess they must be able to, come to think of it. People are always having relatives taken to rehab . . .”

  “But kink is my antidrug.”

  He laughed out loud, the sound filling the small, mostly empty space. Roxie roused herself from under the edge of a blanket, giving Ethan a curious look. Then she stood, shook herself vigorously, and trotted over to scratch the door.

  He groaned and stood, stretching, then strolled naked to the door to let her out. “I really should have a doggie door.”

  “Why don’t you?” Victoria hadn’t had much chance to admire the view last night in the dark; by daylight, it turned out, Ethan had a surprisingly muscular butt and thighs. Or perhaps not that surprising, given how much time he spent on horseback and walking around among herds of cattle or sheep. In any case, it was a lovely surprise.

  “Electronic ones are hella expensive. Regular ones are cheap, but then anything could come wandering in. Possum, raccoon, cats from the barn. A really motivated coyote.”

  “Motivated Coyote is my new grunge band name.” She pulled one of the ham sandwiches from its zipper bag and dug in, momentarily forgetting the need for coffee as hunger took over.

  “Heh. Hey . . .” He turned from the door suddenly, as if he had just thought of something; the view remained pleasant. “What time did you say it was, before?”

  “Eight,” Victoria mumbled around the sandwich, putting a hand in front of her mouth to block the sight.

  “Crap. I have that suspension class at ten. I need to get to the main house so I can shower and then help with the setup.” He started racing around the place, finding and yanking on clothes as he went.

  “Mmph.” She swallowed, then put the sandwich down and began the hunt for her underwear. “Me too. I think I’m supposed to be helping with setup. Uh . . . I have to go to my cabin for clothes anyway, so I guess I’ll just shower there. You could . . . I mean if it’s easier, you can just use my shower. Or if there’s more hot water at the main house or something, or if you’d rather not go there and have everyone see us together, I understand. Whatever . . .”

  He stopped, eyeing her pointedly and stepping over to put his hands on her shoulders. “I didn’t even think about that. Of course I can shower at your place. Hell, I’ll carry you there piggyback in front of God and everybody if you want.”

  Warmth filled her, not the heat of the night before but something new. Entirely new. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Walking will be fine.” Her voice didn’t betray her sudden tension, but all she could think was that she was in trouble here.

  “We could hold hands,” he offered solemnly.

  She nodded back, forcing her face into a serious expression despite the sudden giddy urge to laugh. Or possibly cry. “Deal.”

  Chapter 13

  After eight hours of selling snacks and soft drinks, going on “water patrol,” and directing new Giddyup visitors to the various venues around the ranch, Victoria was almost as exhausted as she had been after her first shift of mucking out the stables. But for all her physical fatigue, her mind was on overdrive by the time she was finally free to shuck her Staff t-shirt Saturday night and blend in with the participants. Giddyup was like a kink convention, a school carnival, and a rodeo all rolled into one big, enthusiastic, fast-paced bundle of events. There was always something happening, and she’d gotten to see nearly all of it in bits and pieces.

  She kept mental-noting things she’d like to explore in more depth next time—and then remembering there would be no next time. Alexandra would see to that. So this play party was her last hurrah, and she knew she should make the most of it. After a bite to eat and the world’s fastest shower, she stopped long enough at her computer to re-read the email she’d spent far too much time drafting and redrafting. She’d finally started deleting things, and now it was down to a few short paragraphs. Telling her parents she was okay, that she had a job at a very nice family-friendly place called Hilltop Ranch, that she was looking for work in her field. That she thanked them for all their support and was sorry she hadn’t been upfront about her reasons for pulling away, but she would make arrangements to see them soon and discuss all that once she felt up to it.

  She started to make more tweaks, then forced herself to stop and, before she could reconsider, hit Send. The world didn’t come to an end, and after a moment she let herself enjoy the sense of relief over finally having done it. No matter what happened as a result, at least she’d taken that step.

  It was one less thing on her mind to worry about, so she could simply enjoy the evening. She pulled the towel from her still-wet hair, ran a brush through it, then left it to air-dry. Then she put on a purple sports bra, another pair of yoga shorts . . . and, after a little consideration, some jeans and a well-worn black hoodie.

  She’d had some offers from rope tops interested in tying her up. Diego had suggested she could be his “calf” for the lariat demo he’d be doing at eight o’clock to kick the evening’s festivities off. But even with all those possibilities on the table, Victoria had only ever had one destination in mind. It wouldn’t help her make the most of Giddyup, maybe, but it was the only place she really wanted to be.

  Even in the low, warm, flickering light of the outdoor heaters and scattered strands of fairy lights, it was easy enough to spot a safety orange vest across the front yard of the main house. Ethan had the shift Logan had taken the night before: head dungeon master from eight at night until one in the morning and head of the cleanup crew for an hour after that. When Victoria spotted him, he was conferring with another few orange-vested types near the fire pit. She kept an eye on him while she snuck behind the concession counter, giving Robert a quick smile and wave when he shot her a questioning look from the point-of-sale tablet.

  “Just getting some coffee for the DM. One sugar, right?”

  “Hang on.” He tapped an icon on the screen, attention back on the leather-hooded gentleman in front of him. “Okay, sir, got it on your tab. Straws are at the end of the counter. Enjoy the party!”

  The guy was already unzipping the opening over his mouth. “Thanks, man.”

  Robert turned to Victoria and pointed to his side, where a curtained-off set of shelves stored some extra supplies. “There are bigger Styrofoam cups behind curtain number one. It’ll screw the environment but save you a refill trip later. Two sugars for those babies.”

  She grabbed the larger, less ecologically sound cup, thanking Robert and basking in the warm glow of his obvious approval. It was nice to have, especially as she was being pretty obvious herself. In a way, playing the part of Ethan’s . . . person-who-would-bring-him-coffee-for-his-DM-shift. . . really was making the most of her last play party at Giddyup. It made her feel even more a part of things. And damn, it felt good to be a part of this. She couldn’t believe she was going to have to give it up after she’d just found it. Even if she wasn’t playing tonight, the freedom of walking through the crowd, surrounded by people practicing their kink in the open, knowing that part of her was fully accepted, was like nothing she’d ever known.

  Silly to get choked up about it, though. It was a fantasy world, and crying over having to leave was akin to a child crying because they couldn’t live at Disneyland.

  The dungeon master confab was just breaking up when she arrived at
Ethan’s side with the large cup of coffee. He took it with a look of grateful wonder.

  “You’re the best. Thank you, this is perfect. You’re awesome.” He dropped a swift kiss on her lips, not quite enough to satisfy her sudden longing to touch him.

  “You’re welcome. Can you use some company tonight?” Hands in her pockets, booted toe scraping a half circle in the dirt from the pivot point of her heel, she glanced around at the reveling kinksters as if Ethan’s answer wasn’t a big deal either way.

  “Hey.” He brushed her cheek with a thumb, drawing her attention back instantly. “I’d love that. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather play, though? I can recommend some great riggers. There’s a guy here tonight who does really beautiful, very traditional kinbaku. He’s trained all over the world. Amazing stuff.”

  Tempting. She’d be lying to herself if she said it wasn’t. But . . . “Eh. I think I’d rather just soak up the atmosphere for a while.”

  Ethan let his hand linger on her face, then drew her closer. He lowered his lips to hers, barely brushing against her skin. She closed her eyes, shutting out everything but the sensation of his breath mingling with hers, the faint prickle of his five-o’clock shadow, and finally the pressure of his mouth and the sweet intrusion of his tongue.

  Only for a moment, but it was enough to set off sparks from her toes to her chest, as if he’d been ever so slightly electrified. After a second she fluttered her eyes open again to contemplate his face, wondering how she could have ever thought he wasn’t leading-man material. He was one of the best kind. The kind who made millions and spawned copycat male models for years, none of whom ever quite captured the spark of the original because the whole point was that he was different.

  And he had the whole fucking world in his eyes.

  That’s just the firelight. She had to believe so, otherwise her heart would break. She would be losing too much by leaving here before another month had passed.

  Ethan pulled away, seeming reluctant but determined. “Enough of that, or I’ll end up oblivious while something awful is happening right in front of me.”