Unbridled (Double D Ranch #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Cara moved through the thick crowd, bumping into people like a pinball. Her multitude of apologies probably went unheard due to the deep bass thumping from the loud dance music.

She had never been to a nightclub—it had never been her scene—but she could imagine this would be a similar atmosphere.

The volume of One More Time by Daft Punk was deafening, to say nothing of the people trying to talk above the din, as well as others singing along with every tune the DJ was spinning onstage to rock down the house.

Or more like event hall.

Colorful lights ricocheted around the inside of the building named The Mane Event Hall. They tinted people different shades and occasionally blinded Cara as she worked her way around the large interior.

Drinks flowed freely. Resort guests danced without reserve: bumping and grinding, twirling and twisting. They laughed and shouted .

While everyone else was having a good time, Cara felt a little out of place.

Some attendees had dressed for tonight’s fantasy theme. Glitter, fairy wings, gossamer skirts and body paint. Costumes in vibrant blues, greens, pinks, purples, and every other color a person could imagine.

Others ignored the party’s theme by going naked or wearing risqué outfits. She spotted men and women alike wearing leather harnesses that exposed their breasts, as well as other parts.

When her elbow was knocked by two women making out along the wall, half of her lemon drop martini landed on the floor. The other half on her.

“Shit.” She looked at the now-empty glass, the wet floor, then down at herself. That was a waste of a good martini.

She could head to the bathroom and try to clean up, or she could go back to her room and call it a night.

Only having checked in a few hours ago, she wasn’t quite sure why she decided to attend tonight’s special event. Her room looked more inviting by the second. As did the silence.

She had come to Double D Ranch to dip her toes into this unknown world, not to jump in feet first. It might be better to expose herself to this lifestyle in small doses in order to see if she was even interested. To see if it was for her.

She set her empty glass on a nearby tray meant for dirty glassware and continued on her way. If she kept moving, maybe no one would notice how out of place she looked. Or how awkward she felt.

This was not her scene.

She didn’t belong here.

Someone would spot her, see she was out of her element, and call her out. She just knew it .

She glanced around to see if anyone was staring. Or pointing fingers.

Of course they weren’t. She was being paranoid over nothing. Nobody cared she was here.

She decided to book this trip for that reason. The website stated the guests weren’t pressured to do anything they weren’t comfortable with. They could do whatever they wanted with anyone willing to do the same. Or guests could do absolutely nothing.

Once she ran across their website, it took her five days until she was brave enough to call. She unreasonably thought they would instantly know this world was not for her. Alarms would go off and red alerts would be sent out via text, phone, and email.

It was silly, she knew.

Eventually, she finally did call because, even after reading their FAQ page on their website— three times no less—she still had questions.

But then, she did tend to overthink things.

For some reason, she didn’t expect a man with a toe-curling voice to answer. He was not only pleasant to listen to, but patient and helpful. Maybe he picked up on how intimidated and unsure Cara came across.

Her first question had her cheeks burning hot and she was glad it was a phone call instead of a video chat or in-person conversation. “Is this a…BDSM club?”

She had read plenty of erotica and erotic romance novels involving kinky sex clubs at the public library where she worked.

Funny enough, that unquenchable interest started when a regular library patron, to whom Cara normally recommended books, turned around and told her about a book by one of her favorite authors .

At the time, she had no idea a toe-curling, steamy romance about sex clubs would cause her to evaluate her own life. After the first one, she fell down a rabbit hole and couldn’t read them fast enough.

Those stories hammered home the fact that her past sex life had been lacking.

Big time.

That simple book recommendation took her down a path she never expected. She began to search for a similar place to those she had read about in those books. But somewhere other than in her hometown. Where she might be recognized. Where she worked. Where she knew so many people.

“Not a club. A ranch resort. But it’s really whatever you want to make of it. You can simply come for a getaway. Take a relaxing trail ride or a dip in the pool. Soak in the hot tub or get a massage. Ooooor …you can get spanked, choked, and fucked by a masked stranger.” His tone came off as amused.

Fucked by a masked stranger?

What front desk employee talked like that? Was he messing with her?

He finished with, “The sky’s the limit. The only limits will be of your own making.”

“Is it a working ranch?” she asked next, then groaned silently and bounced her fist against her forehead.

“Well, it’s not like you’ll be chasing down and roping wayward cattle on horseback, but we do have livestock here. We have goats and cows for fresh milk and cheese, chickens for eggs, horses for trail rides…”

“Are there a lot of single guests?” She worried it would be painfully awkward if she went and no one interacted with her.

“If you can’t find a willing single guest during your stay, plenty of couples are looking for a third. And if three aren’t enough, sometimes random orgies break out. Nobody would notice or care if you joined in.”

Random orgies? Really? Nobody would care if she just…joined…in?

“We have standalone lakefront cabins that have private hot tubs. We also have guest rooms in the lodge itself. Would you like to make a reservation?”

Her heart was pounding so loudly that she almost missed his question. “ Umm .”

“Hold on. Our reservationist just returned from break. I’ll let her handle it. I look forward to you being our guest. I hope it’s everything you’re looking for.”

She did, too, but she had doubts. “I’m sorry, but before you go…what did you say your name was?”

Something about his low chuckle gave her goosebumps. Not because he was creepy or anything, but because she could imagine herself blindfolded and his warm honeyed voice enveloping her while murmuring naughty suggestions into her ear.

Possibly reenacting a panty-wetting scene from one of her favorite books.

She shook herself mentally.

Even tonight, she still remembered his voice but regretted never getting his name to at least thank him.

It was a shame, really, but as an employee, he probably wasn’t allowed to fraternize with the guests, anyway.

Not that it mattered. Simply trying to make her way through the crowded party proved plenty of actual guests were available to engage with. If they welcomed it, of course.

Another reason she picked this particular resort was how the website clearly stated multiple times that consent was not only important, but required. That alone made her feel more secure about booking since she’d be by herself .

The site also stated that anyone stepping out of line would be dealt with quickly since the management took their guests’ safety seriously. All guests also had to electronically sign a legal agreement to that effect, as well as an NDA, when they made a reservation.

Now, here she was. All stemming from a crazy idea that got stuck in her head. She had never been this impulsive in all her thirty-one years.

To make this experience successful, she really needed to lean into the resort’s motto: Unpack, unwind and get uninhibited. She already unpacked her bags, now she needed to follow through with the rest.

You can do this.

She might need another drink. Or two…

Or twelve.

As she fought her way to the restroom to attempt to dry her blouse, she stopped short when her path was cut off by a man walking on his hands and knees, wearing a tight leather collar around his neck with a chain leash attached.

He was one of the attendees not wearing a costume per se, but a leather harness around his torso.

She blinked and as he kept going, Cara followed the line of the leash up to the woman holding the other end.

She wore a black leather mini-skirt, a matching leather bra with holes exposing her pierced nipples, suede thigh-high, high-heeled boots, and a wicked smile.

Every once in a while, she would give the leash a sharp jerk and make the man come to heel.

In her other hand, she carried a long thin whip of some sort.

Cara leaned closer to the person standing next her; a woman wearing a red vinyl, form-fitting, one-piece outfit with a matching mask. “Is he supposed to be a dog?”

The dark-haired woman shook her head and shouted over the music, “Slave! ”

Slave? Was that term even acceptable? It seemed wrong. But then, maybe it wasn’t in this scenario?

“She walks him like a dog.” Of course, she just pointed out the obvious like an idiot.

When the woman turned toward her, the eyes behind the mask slowly traveled from Cara’s head all the way to her toes and back. “You must be new.” Her bright red lips curled. “He has a humiliation kink.”

She wasn’t sure all the fiction she read had prepared her for this reality. Not even close. “What’s that around his…”

“Cock?”

Cara nodded.

“It’s a cage.”

“It has a lock.” She silently groaned. She kept mentioning the obvious!

“Of course.”

Cara frowned. “There’s not enough room for him to…grow.”

“That’s exactly the point. He needs to have enough discipline so he doesn’t get hard. If he does, then…” She shrugged.

Not that she should be staring, but…the colorful lights were catching something sparkly tucked between his bare ass cheeks. She narrowed her eyes. “Is that a jewel?”