Buried Treasure (Silver Creek Resort Book 1) Page 8

  “Are you thinking about me?” Shawn came around the side of the house and mounted the stairs two at a time. He winked at her when he was at the top.

  “No, not you.” She told him about the text from her cousin.

  “And this Brent Mach was bidding against you for the storage unit?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “We’re not friends.”

  “What do you think his motive was, then?” Shawn sat down in one of the chairs and propped his feet up on a table. He looked so comfortable, and so sexy, that Autumn had to look away before she got lost in his gaze.

  “Maybe he misses sparring with you at auctions,” Shawn said. “Maybe he’s secretly in love with you and is just now making his move.”

  Autumn laughed. “Fat chance of that happening. I’m not the sort of girl that attracts that sort of attention.”

  “You’re selling yourself short,” Shawn said. “You’re a very pretty woman with lovely curves. Maybe you’ve misread the situation between you and Brent Mach. Maybe he’s been flirting with you all this time and you misread him.”

  “Doubtful,” Autumn said, then she cleared her throat. “What time do you want to leave in the morning?”

  “Nice way to change the subject,” he said with a soft snort. “We can talk about it later when you’re a captive audience. In the meantime, I think eight is a good time. Of course, we have some really important decisions to make before we leave.”

  Autumn’s heart slipped into overdrive. Was he going to suggest something to do with things here at the resort?

  “What’s on your mind?” she asked.

  “Well, we need to settle two things, the first is snacks, and the second is about radio stations. I prefer classic rock. And you?”

  She turned back toward him. He was smiling, and damn if he didn’t seem even sexier than he had just moments before. She looked back toward the barren land.

  “That’s good for me,” she said. “And I’d say chips, and the weather is cool enough now that we don’t have to worry about chocolate melting in the car.”

  “Melted chocolate, that sounds—entertaining,” he said. “Do you want to stop on our way through town tomorrow, or go in tonight?”

  “Either one,” she said. “I don’t want to take you away from the resort if there’s something you have to do tonight.”

  “Are you fishing?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “When you fish you have to use bait,” he said. “For instance, you don’t want to take me away from something I have to do at the resort tonight. But, of course, if I have to go you can tag along, to get a first-hand view of how things work here.”

  “That would be bait?”

  He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and glanced up at her. Autumn responded immediately, her nipples tightening and her clit pulsing.

  “Bait would be saying you want to see what’s happening in the playhouse because you’re curious.”

  “Playhouse?”

  “It’s like the common meeting area,” he said. “Every cabin has its own dungeon, and the place where couples can play together is called the playhouse.”

  “With a capital P?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, do you capitalize cabin, or lodge?” He shrugged. “I never really thought about anything like that. I’m not a wordsmith.”

  “Maybe we should go buy snacks,” she said. “Chips, chocolate, maybe some pretzels? Do you prefer salty, or sweet?”

  Too late she realized she’d left herself open for something she wasn’t prepared to face.

  “Interesting question,” he said. “A mixture? Nice, salty skin mixed with sweet, savory chocolate, melted, of course. You could lie down, and I could cover those perky breasts of yours with the sugary treat.”

  He stood up and crossed the deck, stopping right in front of her. Autumn couldn’t tear her gaze away from his face. He was looking at her as if he knew what she looked like without her clothes on. Well, he had seen her in the bathtub.

  “Tell me, Autumn, if I wanted to cover your body with chocolate, would I have to secure you to the bed first?” His voice was deep, and velvety.

  “I,” she managed to say before she cleared her throat. “We should keep our relationship professional.”

  “Right,” he said. He reached out and ran his finger up her arm. “I think I’d need to tie you down. Making it so you can’t move adds to the excitement. Think about how you’d feel if you were tied to a bed, unable to move. Struggling, trying to get away as I poured the silky liquid over your body.”

  He was standing right next to her now, his lips inches away from her cheek.

  “What do you say, Autumn? Ties, or no ties? Or would you prefer handcuffs? Are you a steel girl, or a leather girl?”

  Get yourself under control, she said, silently. “I told you, I’m neither. I’m not into the kinky stuff.”

  “That’s because you’ve never tried it,” he said. “Weren’t you taught not to turn your nose up at something until you’ve tried it?”

  Autumn laughed. “I notice you expect me to be used as a chocolate treat. What if I wanted my first try to be the other way around. What if I wanted to drop chocolate on your chest and—other things?”

  “Done,” he said. “Meet me in the playhouse around ten. I have a few things to get done before we leave tomorrow, and then it will be playtime. Do you want dinner at the lodge, or here?”

  “Here,” she said. “But, I didn’t mean—I mean—my question was rhetorical. It wasn’t an offer.”

  “It wasn’t? I’m shocked.”

  His aftershave smelled sinfully good, as he pressed against her. Autumn would have moved backward but she was already pressed against the deck railing. Any farther and she would topple over.

  “Don’t be late,” he said as he started down the stairs. “I’m not as strict as Ethan about it, but I do like punctuality.” He stopped and turned. “I’ll have your dinner delivered to your cabin. See you tonight.”

  Autumn stared after him. She should have screamed that she wouldn’t be there, that she didn’t even know where the playhouse was. She decided to ask. Not knowing would give her an excuse not to show up. She sat in the chair he’d just vacated. She could feel the warmth he’d left behind and the arousal she’d felt before shot up a notch.

  “Keep it business,” she said, feeling a little strange that she was talking to no one. “Just remember, you couldn’t show up because you don’t know where the playhouse is.”

  Even as the words left her mouth, Autumn knew she’d find the place, come hell or high water.

  Yes, no, yes, no, yes, no, yes—her mind wavered back and forth all afternoon, even as she enjoyed the delicious salmon and veggies that were delivered to her around six. There was another slice of cheesecake to complete the meal. If she stayed here too long she would gain enough weight that her clothes wouldn’t fit.

  After she’d devoured every bite she went to the desk and opened the top drawer. She took out a map that showed the layout of the Silver Creek Resort. Locating the lodge, she found her cabin, and then identified the other buildings. There was a pool/sauna/hot tub area, a tennis/volleyball court, and a large building at the end of the layout. She figured that was the playhouse that Shawn had mentioned.

  The place where she was supposed to meet Shawn later tonight. She thought of more excuses, anything that would keep her out of the playhouse. She could tell him she’d fallen asleep early, in an effort to get ready for tomorrow’s trip. She could tell him she had an upset stomach from dinner, which was a ridiculous idea because dinner had been perfect. She could tell him—oh, she couldn’t think of another excuse because, truthfully, she wanted to go.

  Autumn had always been curious about things; it was one of the reasons she’d become a journalist, because no matter what she saw, or what happened, she always wanted to get to the bottom of things. She always asked too many questions, or so her mother had always said.

  Why was that not happening r
ight now? Why was she not curious about what took place here? She was pretty sure it wasn’t exactly the same as what happened in fictional books. Was she frightened of what she would see? Or discover? That wasn’t like her, and it upset her to be such a fraidy cat.

  There was one way to discover things about the lifestyle that Shawn lived, one from which he made his living. If she really wanted to show him she was a big girl, one who wasn’t afraid to learn about new things as he’d accused her of being, then she needed to do the one thing that she did best—interview him.

  She picked up the phone and dialed zero. “Do you need something?” a woman asked.

  “Yes, to speak to Shawn, please,” Autumn answered. Step one of doing an interview, setting up the time. Even though they were supposed to meet at ten, she wanted to let him know the reason for her showing up. She didn’t want him to think she was there to play, as the name of the place suggested.

  “I’ll have him call you right back,” the unidentified female said. Autumn put down the receiver and went to her laptop case. She took out a spiral notebook and a pen. Then she opened her laptop and started a search on BDSM resorts. She’d already done this once, when she figured out the treasure was on Silver Creek Resort land, but she wanted to see what other places offered, so she could compare it to what Shawn showed her tonight.

  She flipped through two sites as she waited for the phone to ring. Both of them seemed nice, but neither of them had the beauty of the Silver Creek. It wasn’t just the scenery that made the Silver Creek attractive to her. They went out of their way to offer state-of-the-art accommodations to their guests. The cabins were beautiful, and even her untrained eye could see the dungeons offered a lot of equipment people who were into BDSM would like.

  Once she’d taken a seat at the table she scribbled down a few questions, about the history of the ranch, why they decided to open it and how they got their first customers.

  On a more personal note she planned to ask Shawn how he’d become involved in BDSM. She wanted to know what he would be doing if he wasn’t running a BDSM resort. What he had done before this? How old was he? What about his personal life? He’d been hitting on her, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was unattached. If he was a swinger as well as a Dom, he might be willing to share.

  She wrote down another question. Others were forming in her mind when there was a knock at the door. Thinking someone was here to retrieve her dinner dishes, Autumn opened the door without checking to see who was there first.

  Shawn stood there, wearing pressed jeans and a button down light blue shirt. He looked like he could grace the cover of a men’s magazine.

  “You were supposed to call,” she said. She looked down at the jeans and t-shirt she wore. “I’m decidedly underdressed.”

  “May I come in?” he asked. “I’ll wait while you change.”

  She wanted to tell him they had two hours before they were supposed to meet, and he was putting her plan into jeopardy.

  “I wanted to talk to you about tonight,” she said. “To make sure we keep things purely professional, I want our time together to be an interview. I want you to answer my questions and tell me about the Silver Creek Resort, and your life as Dom.”

  He nodded, but then said, “Why tonight? We have almost twelve hours in a car tomorrow. The interview would kill time.”

  He took a step toward her and Autumn fought the urge to tell him it had to stay professional or there was every chance she would be taking off her clothes tonight.

  “You want to see the resort, which is a good thing,” he said. “Let’s take a tour and I’ll show you the cabins, the recreational areas and we’ll make our final stop the playhouse.”

  “I’m just wondering about how this works, because I haven’t seen anyone around really, not since the first night.”

  “Many people come to spend time alone,” he said. “The playhouse can be full, or empty, depending on what people have planned. On the weekends it’s generally very full. Now, do you want to clean up and change? If you’re uncomfortable with me being here, although I’ve already seen you naked, I can leave and come back.”

  “I think that would be best,” she said. She didn’t want to tell him it was because she didn’t trust herself.

  “If you want to see the resort we need to do it before the sun sets, so chop chop, Ms. Journalist. I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

  That would be plenty of time for her to take a fast shower and change. “I’ll see you then,” she said. “Strictly professional.”

  “As you say,” he said. “As you say.”

  When he was gone, Autumn leaned against the door. The heady scent of his aftershave lingered in the room and it made her tingle. She repeated the phrase strictly professional to herself as she showered, updated her makeup and put on a pair of jeans. All she had with her were t-shirts, because she hadn’t expected to stay longer than one day.

  A quick look in the closet showed clothing that wasn’t hers, but she was sure had been left for her. She went through them slowly, stopping at a maroon top decorated with lace and bare shoulders.

  “Perfect,” she said. But she stopped her hands before she took it off the hanger. “Strictly professional.”

  She moved the shirt to the side and found a green jersey top that was pretty, but not sexy. This would help her keep her word about not taking things farther than she wanted.

  Chapter 7

  She should have been more relaxed, or so she thought. Autumn jotted down notes as Shawn drove the cart around the complex. There were twelve units and, as she already knew, the resort stayed very busy.

  “How can you afford to let me stay in one of your units?” she asked. “I know you’re fully booked.”

  “We have cancellations from time to time,” he said. “We also have one unit that sits empty, in case of emergency, like needing Scarlet for you.”

  “Where’s the thirteenth unit?” she asked.

  “Behind the playhouse,” he said. “It’s called O.”

  “Named after the famous book,” she said. “Aren’t you worried about having thirteen units, an unlucky number? Why is it not always rented out? Is there something special about it?

  “First, we have sixteen if you count the three that me, Ethan and Randy use. Second, we like to have one empty in case of emergency, like now. And third, some things are best kept secret,” he said as he parked the cart in the playhouse parking lot.

  “So, there is something different about it?” she asked. “How do you decide who can use the special unit? Do they have to pass some sort of test? Or do they have to have some sort of experience? If so, how do you know they do?”

  “Now, she’s an investigative journalist,” he said as he got out of the cart.

  Autumn scrambled to follow him as he climbed the stairs to the playhouse. It was starting to get dark. When he opened the door a blast of air conditioning hit her in the face and she was reminded she was in Nevada and it was warm, even though it was September.

  He ushered her inside. The first thing she heard, other than the door shutting, was the sound of leather meeting flesh, and the sound of a woman crying out in pain.

  “Wait, wait,” she said, even as she took a few steps backward, and ran right into his chest. Before she could turn around he wrapped his arms around her middle, right below her breasts.

  “I thought you wanted to see it all,” he said.

  “I do, I do,” she said. There was another crack of leather and another loud groan. She was going to say she wasn’t ready to watch someone get whipped. Spanking was one thing, whipping another. But then she realized she needed to keep to her word. If she backed out now she would always wonder what was happening that she didn’t see.

  “The sound just caught me off guard,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting people to be here yet. You said ten, and it’s not ten.”

  “I meant ten for us,” he said. “This room is used quite a bit for people who like the idea of someone coming along
and watching them. There’s a large room in the center, and on the second floor there are rooms with windows for people who want to watch, but not be seen.”

  “Can we use one of those?”

  “Absolutely,” he said. He hadn’t released her, and she hadn’t pushed against him to try and force him to lower his arms. “Do you want to examine the main room, or just go upstairs?”

  “Upstairs,” she said. “I would rather observe things unobserved, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do,” he said. This time he stepped back, and she mourned the loss of the heat of his body. “There’s a door to your right that opens onto a set of stairs. We’ll use the second room.”

  The stairway was circular, and at the top there was a narrow hallway. Autumn went to the second door and opened it. Another narrow hallway emptied into a larger room, which held a king-sized four-poster bed. The wall opposite it held a wide variety of floggers, whips, belts and riding crops.

  “Do you have to reserve this room, or can anyone downstairs use it?” Autumn asked.

  “There’s a light outside the door, almost like hanging a towel on the door in a frat house,” Shawn said. “Unoccupied rooms are available for anyone to use.”

  Autumn stared at the bed, then turned to the wall. Shawn stood near the door, and she could feel him studying her. She figured he was gauging her reaction, maybe to see if he could get away with trying something tonight.

  She put her notebook and pen on the bed and crossed to the window. Below them was a cavernous room, with a raised stage in the center. There were posts in the center; a curvy woman was bound between them, spread eagle and naked as the day she was born. Her ass and buttocks were bright red. She cried out as the man standing behind her, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, slammed a flogger against her skin.

  Autumn swallowed her reaction, which was to scream, “Leave her alone!” The man continued to flog the woman. Autumn let her gaze drift to the chairs. There were about four couples, one of them she remembered from her first dinner here, watching the action.