Page 2 of Marking Micah

She let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s been three years since… the accident. And see? I can still barely say the words out loud. And you know the dumbest part? I want to play. Iwantto… I don’t know, probably not do rope again, and definitely not suspension, but I miss playing. I miss the headspace and the sensation. I’ve been thinking about it more and more. There’s this deep need that’s not being met, but…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“But?” he prompted.

“But nothing feels safe. You know I tried playing with Tracy, just some light impact play. And she’s my friend and I trust her completely, but still… it just wasn’t working for me. I couldn’t quiet my mind enough. I tried again with Darla, because my therapist thought playing with women would feel safer for me, and it sort of did, but again… I had to stop. I couldn’t get my head in the zone, and I kept having all these intrusive thoughts about… what happened. But without kink in my life, I just don’t feel quite like myself. Like this awful thing that happened made me deny myself something that’s so much a part of me. And it kind of pisses me off. That this awful experience—that Brett—took that from me.”

“I wish I had an easy answer for you, Micah. You know I do.” He paused, sipped his Coke, then ran a hand over his dark buzz cut, the sides shot through with silver that caught the light. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. And I’m thinking that playing here at The Rodeo, where your accident happened, is probably the wrong place to be.”

“But it’s been my home club for years, and it’s the best kink club in Dallas. I’ve always been comfortable here, and my people are here. And Brett isn’t, thank God. But… yeah.” She paused to bite her lip. “Maybe you’re right. I can’t seem to be here without it all coming back, pouring into my head at a thousand miles an hour. I thought I’d get over that part.”

“Well, since you haven’t—or, not enough to really move past what happened to you—maybe it’s time to consider other options.”

“What other options? The only other clubs in Dallas are the Rope Dojo, which we both know is not where I need to be, and that pro-Domme club that’s way too high protocol for me. I just can’t get into the slave mentality. I would never be comfortablethere, even if we could manage to get an invitation. Or are you thinking of going somewhere else? San Antonio? Or Austin?”

“Is that something you’d like to try?”

“I know there are clubs in both cities with good reputations, but I won’t know anyone. I don’t think I’d really be comfortable, even if you went with me.”

“I would absolutely go with you; of course I would. To be honest, I’d rather not let you out of my sight at a BDSM club—not until you’re really back in a good head space.” He stopped, scrubbing a hand over his chin. “And shit, let me know if I’m being too territorial with you. I know I have no claim to you.”

If only he did…

Stop it.

“No. No, it’s fine. I always feel safer with you. As safe as I’m capable of feeling, anyway.”

He smiled at her and desire simmered in her system. She reminded herself sternly that Arrow was her friend, her most loyal, devoted friend. She wasn’t about to do anything to fuck that up. Anyway, he’d never made a pass at her or even invited her to do a scene with him. She was firmly in the friend zone as far as he was concerned.

But understanding that didn’t stop the fantasies that played all too often in her mind.

Or the surges of jealousy she felt when she watched him scene with other women at the club, even though there was never any sexual contact with them. Not at the club, anyway, and what he did on his own time was none of her business.

You have no rights over him.

She’d needed to remind herself of that more and more lately.

She cleared her throat. “So. If you weren’t suggesting a Texas club, what were you suggesting?”

“Something occurred to me recently, and to be honest, I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. You remember last year whenI went to teach some BDSM classes at that ranch in Montana? Rawhide Ranch?”

“Yes, I remember. You became friends with the man who owns it. Master Derek, right?”

“Yeah. He’s a really good guy. Solid. The real thing, or I would never have gone. The place is pretty amazing.”

“Is it? You didn’t say much since you had to sign a non-disclosure agreement.”

“I need to reach out to him before I go into any detail, but I think it might be a good place for you. It’s beautiful country, they have horses, and even a petting zoo. It’s entirely kink-oriented, and probably one of the safest environments I’ve ever come across. And the folks who live and work there are really incredible people. If he gives me the okay, do you think you’d like to go there with me?”

Travel with Arrow? It was something they’d never done. But if he seemed to think this ranch place could help her, then she was willing to give it a try. Even if the idea made her nervous as hell.

But if she were being honest with herself, the nerves were mostly about the thought of leaving Dallas with Arrow. Being on a plane with him. At a hotel—or wherever they’d stay there. Being alone with him for more than an evening. It would be a huge temptation, and she really did not want to blow their friendship.

The question was, could she trust herself?

“I’m sorry, Micah. If this is too much, it’s okay to say so.”

“No, no, it’s not too much. I’m just thinking of… logistics.”

Logistics, my ass.

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