Cherise Sinclair - Master of the Mountain

“C'mon, babe.” Matt stood on the porch, hand on the door. “Let's go.”

“Right. Sorry.” She trotted up to join him. They crossed the empty main room to where the club members already filled the long table in the dining room.

“Hold on a minute,” Matt said to her, putting his arm around her waist to stop her just inside the rough-hewn door frame. “Hey, everybody,” Matt said loudly and waited for the noise to die down. “Most of you met Rebecca last night. She's new to swinging, so give her time and introduce yourselves as we go along.”

Under the barrage of eyes, Rebecca nodded her head politely and crossed the room with Matt. As they took seats near the middle of one long table, she tried to ignore the assessing looks from the men. But how the heck could she ignore the fact that strangers were sizing her up for sex, and in an entirely different way than in a club. Considering the purpose of this weekend, these men knew they'd get lucky, right?

Okay, Rebecca, she told herself. Get with the program. She had a relationship to salvage and inhibitions to lose. Her stomach tightened, and she took a mental step back. For now, how about just make friends and have fun? Make friends; have fun. Piece of cake.

As the members returned to their various conversations, she poured herself coffee. No one should be forced to be sociable before coffee. That was just cruel. Taking a sip, she looked the crowd over. Some cute guys here. One with black hair and intense brown eyes and a trim mustache. One sounded like a college professor. He might be fun to talk with. Mostly couples, although two women and one man were obviously together. Interesting.

Taking the dishes passed to her by a black-haired woman in her thirties, Rebecca helped herself to the scrambled eggs and sausage and took a bite.

Matt politely requested the bowl of fruit to be passed. He glanced at Rebecca's plate and leaned closer. “Wouldn't you rather have something lighter, hon? Remember you said you wanted to watch your weight.”

Months ago, after being lectured by Mom on the dire fate awaiting a heavy woman in a relationship, Rebecca had made that comment. He had never forgotten. As the eggs turned tasteless in her mouth, she switched to calorie-free coffee. Sure, she could tell herself that she felt comfortable with her body, but whom was she fooling? The comfort lasted only until someone-like Matt-made clear he considered her fat.

Of course, he never said the F word. He just wanted her to improve her health: eat less, exercise more, and get as skinny as all the women at this table. But she already exercised religiously, and she didn't eat that much. Face it: her heritage was round, her body was round, and unless she went for surgery and starved constantly like her mother, she was going to stay round.

How would he react if she told him his dick was too small?

She pushed the plate away, her appetite gone. When she looked up, her eyes met Logan's. He leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, studying her like some specimen on a petri dish. Probably wondering what she was doing with these members of fitness anonymous.

A perky blonde jumped up from her chair and clapped her hands. “All right, everyone. I'm Ashley, and today we're hiking up to Rainbow Lake. Serena and Michelle are making sandwiches for us. It's a bit of a walk, so wear good footwear, remember to bring your daypacks, and don't forget sunscreen.”

A hike sounded like fun. San Francisco parks didn't look anything like this wilderness.

Ashley continued, “Jenna and Brandy will handle supper tonight, with their men on cleanup duty. And then we have our meet and greet. We'll play some games to get to know each other, and then see where the evening goes.” The blonde licked her full lips and gave everyone a long, slow look, earning hoots and howls from the crowd.

Why the hell hadn't Jake returned from San Francisco? Logan wondered, grinding his teeth at the constant magpielike chattering of the people on the trail. Two more miles to Rainbow Lake. A shame he couldn't get them to jog, but maybe if he sped up some, they wouldn't have the breath to talk.

Usually Jake handled the social crap, while Logan did repairs and maintenance. People in individual packages could be enjoyable, but crowds? He'd rather get shot in the head. He ran a finger down the scar on his face and snorted. Again.

Stepping up on an outcropping of granite, he eyed the line of people trudging up the switchbacks. No stragglers. The group appeared in pretty good shape. Even fancy Rebecca in her designer jeans and shapeless top had kept up.

In fact, she did more than keep up. As she walked beside her boyfriend, her green eyes sparkled with pleasure, alert to everything the forest offered. Logan had seen her spot a mule deer frozen in place, a hawk in a dive, and a tiny deer mouse. Each time her face lit with wonder. Her open enjoyment added to his, and he found himself checking the line more often than normal just to catch her reactions.

The sun was high overhead and unseasonably hot by the time the trail descended, leaving the pines behind. He led the group across a grass- and wildflower-filled meadow to the tiny mountain lake, clear and blue and damned cold. Granite slabs poked up through the wildflowers, glimmering in the sun. With yells of delight, people dropped their backpacks and stripped.

Logan enjoyed the show of bare asses and breasts as the swingers splashed into the water like a herd of lemmings, screaming at the cold. As he leaned on a boulder, he noticed one person still completely dressed with wide eyes and open mouth. The city girl. Considering she and Matt bunked together, Rebecca couldn't be a virgin, but from her reaction, she was pretty innocent when it came to kink.

“C'mon, babe,” her boyfriend yelled, already buck naked in the lake. “The water's great.” Not waiting for her response, he waded out deeper, heading for a blonde who looked as if she had substituted bouncy breasts for cheerleading pom-poms.

Rebecca glanced from the water to the trail, back to the water, where Matt wrestled with Ashley, and back to the trail again.

Logan could see the exact moment she decided to leave. He walked over to block her way.

“Excuse me,” she said politely.

“No.”

Red surged into her cheeks, and her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. Red-gold hair. Freckles. Big bones. Looked like she had Irish ancestry and the temper to go with it. Stepping sideways to block her again, Logan tucked his thumbs into his front pockets and waited for the explosion.

“Listen, Mr. Hunt-”

“It's Logan,” he interrupted and tried not to grin as her mouth compressed.

“Whatever. I'm going back to my cabin. Please move your… Please move.”

“Sorry, sugar, but no one hikes alone. That's one safety rule I take seriously.” He glanced at the swingers. “I can't leave them, and you can't walk alone, so you're stuck here.”

Her eyes closed, and he saw the iron control she exerted over her emotions.

The Dom in him wondered how quickly he could break through that control to the woman underneath. Tie her up, tease her a bit, and watch her struggle not to give in to her need and… Hell, talk about inappropriate thoughts.

He pulled in a breath to cool off. No use. It was blistering hot, and not just from his visions of steamy sex. Nothing like global warming in the mountains. He frowned when he noted her damp face and the sweat soaking her long-sleeved, heavy shirt. Not good. The woman needed to get her temperature down.

At the far end of the meadow, the forest would provide shade. He could send her there to sit and cool off, but she'd be out of sight, and from the obstinate set of that pretty, pink mouth, she'd head right back down the trail in spite of his orders.