My cat meows pitifully, stretching across my duffle bag. He doesn’t seem opposed per say to me leaving for the next four days, but he is ensuring that a little bit of him travels with me with all the cat hair he’s shedding. I shake my head, tapping my foot as I pace.
The jumper clings to my curves, accenting my curvy legs and my flared hips. It’s low enough in the front to tease but it still keeps me covered. I fiddle with the straps and peer out my apartment windows again, waiting for his car to arrive.
I’m nervous. I don’t know if the whole weekend qualifies as a date, a bunch of little dates, if we’re just friends, friends with benefits, more than friends…
I groan and sit down by the window, dropping my head to my hands. I could use a girlfriend right about now, but Sadie sort of sucks as a friend since she’s so self-absorbed, and the only other woman I really spend a decent amount of time with is Callie. I don’t know how to talk to her since she’s caught me drunk too many times. I get the feeling I’m not high on her list of friends.
Maybe Tyson? He’s a Dom who’s a switch in the right situations, and he likes gossip. I don’t know if that counts or not.
Knocking startles me, and I do a double take out the window. It takes a moment, but I spot Rich’s swanky car parked among the mass of vehicles out there.
Brutus meows again, and I dart up and to the kitchen. Grabbing the empty bottle of vodka, I dump it in the trash before making my way to the door.
Rich smiles at me, leaning against the frame when I open the door and my pulse spikes. He’s wearing a dark gray shirt that makes the violet of his eyes stand out “Hi! Just a sec. I thought you’d text me to come down.”
“I can help get your things to the car,” he says with a shrug, following me as I hurry back to the couch. My sandals sit at the edge, and I shoo away Brutus who takes his sweet time abandoning my bag so I can pick it up. He walks slowly over to Rich, wide cat eyes peering up at the blond. “I didn’t realize you have a cat.”
“There’s lots you don’t know about me,” I say, checking that all the pockets are zipped before picking up my purse and grabbing the handles of the bag. I glance over my shoulder, only half lifting the bag after the last thing he said. I may haveoverpacked, and I’m not completely opposed to him carrying my overstuffed bag for me.
My good mood plummets when I notice that Rich spotted the trash. My last letter from my attorney sits on top, and it makes my stomach drop. I don’t know if he can tell what it’s supposed to be or not, but the empty handle of vodka next to it doesn’t look good. His piercing eyes look up to meet mine again, and I tighten my hand on the bag.
I’ve fucked up. He’s going to see all my issues laid out, and walk away. Who wants an addict with a history of murder -
“Hand it over,” he says, wiggling his fingers towards me. I blink, my hand loosening a bit on the handles of my bag.
Darting my eyes towards the trash again, I wait for a jab. He doesn’t offer one, just patiently waiting for me to hand over the bag. After a moment I extend my arm, the bag dipping from the weight, and he takes it with ease before tossing it over his shoulder. “Come on, Kim.”
I go through the motions of saying goodbye to Brutus and getting everything in my apartment closed up. Leaving on a few lights to keep things cozy for my kitty, I tug the drapes closed so anyone staring from the street can’t see anything going on while I’m gone. It might sound a touch paranoid, but it makes sense to me.
“You’ll like Euphoria,” Rich tells me, his calming voice setting my mind at ease. “I’ll introduce you to Jude, he’s chill. He can give you a breakdown about whatever you want to know.”
“I didn’t realize Colorado had so many options for lifestyle clubs,” I say honestly, and Rich shrugs as we walk to the car. He packs my bag into the back and I slip into the passenger seat, getting cozy right away.
“You’ve got to know the right people,” Rich tells me as he slides into the driver’s seat and turns on the car, sliding intotraffic. “I’ve known Jude for years, like I said. He decided to use the hot springs because it has tourist appeal. And he’s spoken to Jo and Vinny plenty of times, so the two big clubs try not to step on each other’s toes. He’s destination, they’re daily life. There’s other smaller clubs across the rest of the state and up and down I-25, but these two dominate the lifestyle.”
I nod, sinking down into the seat as he turns the radio on low. His voice is so damn soothing. “I’ve been to some of the others. Sins is still best. It’s just the non-primal rules that I don’t like.”
Rich smirks, reaching across the car to squeeze my leg. I let my thighs fall open, making it easier for his strong hand to grip me. “They might change their tune, someday. For now, have you ever been chased through a hot spring?”
My eyes close at the idea, trying to picture it. “Wouldn’t there be a risk of people falling in?”
“The hot springs are well divided from the wildlife nearby, and the pools are all generally far enough apart that you shouldn’t be in danger of falling in unless you’re drunk.” He squeezes my leg slightly tighter and I crack my eyes open, seeing the look he shoots me before he focuses on merging onto the highway. “Our room has its own private pool.”
“So it’s ground level?” I ask curiously.
“Not exactly. It’s not a hotel, it’s hotel-style. The rooms are all individual cabins sprinkled around the property so each booking can have its own private oasis away from the main pool. Jude had a cancellation for one of the best cabins this weekend, so you’ll get to see all the luxuries they have.”
A private cabin with a hot spring included sounds expensive, but I shove the thought away. Rich makes good money, and he said there’s a discount, so I shouldn’t feel uneasy about him spending a lot of money. If he has it, he should spend it.
Subconsciously I rub at my scars, a memory flickering unwanted through my head.
“I gave you all these things. And you can’t give me this in return?”
“Kim?”
Rich’s voice cuts right through the words, and I like that he’s become such a force in my life that the memories can’t compete. I open my eyes and look his way, the morning sunshine drifting through the tinted windows.
“I’m great,” I tell him, reaching down to squeeze the hand still touching my leg. It’s not a suffocating feeling having him grip me; it’s comforting. I run my fingers across his knuckles and close my eyes again, content to listen to him and the radio as we head out into the mountains.
