Page 3
Story: Chance
No wonder he hadn’t spotted her. He’d been searching in the places where sane people would be found. Insane or not, no one had been killed on Wild River Ranch since its founding, and that record wasn’t going to be broken on his watch.
He took off his hat, waving it slowly to capture the bull’s attention. Then maybe his uninvited guest would have a chance to escape. When she didn’t move, he tried to gently encourage her. In quiet tones, he said, “Don’t know your name, but you have to the count to three to get your sweet ass out of my holding pen. Slow steps, starting now.”
That was probably the most he’d spoken all week. He wasn’t much for talking. He let his actions and his rope do the talking. He was about to give her a few choice words when she looked at him, making him forget what he was about to say.
She smiled at him like he carried the sun, moon, and stars. None of those celestial bodies could hold a candle to her smile. In that moment, the rest of the world became nothing more than a backdrop.
She was dazzling.
She shook her head. “Oh, thank you, but no. I haven’t captured my special moment yet.”
Her words broke the spell. It was without a doubt the politestdisobedience he’d ever heard. But it was still disobedience. “Ma’am, if you don’t start moving, you’ll sit tender for a week.”
Her jaw fell open. “Did… did you really just threaten to spank me?”
“No, ma’am,” he said. “I don’t threaten. But I do promise, and a promise is one thing I always keep.”
As Chance distracted Joy, Gus and Silas entered the pen, positioning themselves between Ironside and the insane woman clutching the camera to her chest. As his men backed Ironside toward the barn, she shot Chance a glare. “I didn’t get my photo!” she pouted.
Pouting or not, she didn’t need to worry about Ironside at all. She needed to worry about him. He was in the mood to teach this Little girl a lesson she wouldn’t soon forget.
Nope. Stop right there.
He wasn’t going down that road. Just because she had no sense of self-preservation and evidently a complete lack of fear, not to mention the most adorable combat boots he’d ever seen, didn’t mean she was a Little. The Daddy in him was seeing who he wanted her to be, not who she actually was.
Once she climbed back over the fence, he stalked toward her. Her eyes went wide, which should have alerted him. Quick as a wink, she turned and raced back toward the crowd.
Without hesitation, he reached for the rope coiled at his hip, only to discover he’d forgotten to grab one that morning. If he couldn’t lasso his troublesome photographer, he’d have to catch her the old-fashioned way. She had him reduced to chasing after her.
He didn’t like it. He prided himself on his control. It was necessary to keep a ranch the size of Wild River Ranch running smoothly. He controlled everything in his life. Routine and predictability. Those were the principles that kept the ranch and his life running smoothly.
Doing that and keeping his family safe were the last promises he’d made to his dad. That meant, regardless of how his body responded to her, the woman with the camera had to go. At least, that was the plan.
She managed to get away from him again, vanishing amongst the guests when friends stopped him to talk. He’d admire her grit if he weren’t ready to strangle her. But that was fine. She couldn’t elude him forever. And when he found her, she would be one very sorry Little girl.
Chance wastedthe rest of the day looking for the mystery photographer. He thought he’d seen a glimpse of her wild mane of blonde hair heading toward the toolshed, but by the time he reached it, she wasn’t there anymore. She was like a bratty, blonde Houdini.
Clenching his jaw, he added another tally to the ever-growing list of the things she’d pay for when he found her. This was usually one of his favorite days of the year. But this year, he couldn’t wait for the Friendsgiving celebration to be over.
By the end of the day, he had given up. The band moved inside and played in a corner while he sat with his family, roasting s’mores by the fireplace. If it hadn’t been for Gus and Silas seeing her as well, he would have thought she was a figment of his imagination.
That would explain his reaction to her. If he created her, she would have checked all his boxes. He felt the need to schedule some time at The Red Barn, the local BDSM club on the outskirts of a neighboring town. Evidently, he needed to spend some time with a submissive decorated with all the designs he could make with his ropes.
There were a couple of submissives who liked rope play. TheirDoms would stand by and watch his work. Once he was finished, he’d step aside, and their Doms would take over their play.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t found a Little who liked Shibari or Semenawa for himself. He wasn’t going to enter a relationship that would leave one or both partners unfulfilled, or worse, with feelings of trauma and abuse.
Lifting his glass to his lips, he took a long draw of his whiskey, resisting the urge to throw the crystal rock glass against the fireplace just to watch it shatter. Of course, it would never happen, and not because it was the finest Waterford crystal. No, he treated the glass with care because it had been his mother’s favorite set.
“I don't understand why you can't just let it go.” Leave it to his brother, Tanner, to cut straight to the heart of the matter.
Before he could speak, his brother, Trace, Tanner's twin, cut in. “Did she take anything, or destroy any ranch property? I'm a little confused as to why you can't let it go myself.”
His brothers were missing the point. “I don't know what she did and didn't do. I just know she snuck onto the ranch and bothered all the guests. Not to mention she damn near got herself killed by climbing in the holding pen with Ironside.”
That was the thing that had him breaking into a cold sweat every time he thought about it. She could have been killed.
“The only thing I heard was what a great photographer she was,” Tildi said. Turning to Boone, she added, “I also heard she's a boudoir photographer. That sounds interesting, don't you think?”
He took off his hat, waving it slowly to capture the bull’s attention. Then maybe his uninvited guest would have a chance to escape. When she didn’t move, he tried to gently encourage her. In quiet tones, he said, “Don’t know your name, but you have to the count to three to get your sweet ass out of my holding pen. Slow steps, starting now.”
That was probably the most he’d spoken all week. He wasn’t much for talking. He let his actions and his rope do the talking. He was about to give her a few choice words when she looked at him, making him forget what he was about to say.
She smiled at him like he carried the sun, moon, and stars. None of those celestial bodies could hold a candle to her smile. In that moment, the rest of the world became nothing more than a backdrop.
She was dazzling.
She shook her head. “Oh, thank you, but no. I haven’t captured my special moment yet.”
Her words broke the spell. It was without a doubt the politestdisobedience he’d ever heard. But it was still disobedience. “Ma’am, if you don’t start moving, you’ll sit tender for a week.”
Her jaw fell open. “Did… did you really just threaten to spank me?”
“No, ma’am,” he said. “I don’t threaten. But I do promise, and a promise is one thing I always keep.”
As Chance distracted Joy, Gus and Silas entered the pen, positioning themselves between Ironside and the insane woman clutching the camera to her chest. As his men backed Ironside toward the barn, she shot Chance a glare. “I didn’t get my photo!” she pouted.
Pouting or not, she didn’t need to worry about Ironside at all. She needed to worry about him. He was in the mood to teach this Little girl a lesson she wouldn’t soon forget.
Nope. Stop right there.
He wasn’t going down that road. Just because she had no sense of self-preservation and evidently a complete lack of fear, not to mention the most adorable combat boots he’d ever seen, didn’t mean she was a Little. The Daddy in him was seeing who he wanted her to be, not who she actually was.
Once she climbed back over the fence, he stalked toward her. Her eyes went wide, which should have alerted him. Quick as a wink, she turned and raced back toward the crowd.
Without hesitation, he reached for the rope coiled at his hip, only to discover he’d forgotten to grab one that morning. If he couldn’t lasso his troublesome photographer, he’d have to catch her the old-fashioned way. She had him reduced to chasing after her.
He didn’t like it. He prided himself on his control. It was necessary to keep a ranch the size of Wild River Ranch running smoothly. He controlled everything in his life. Routine and predictability. Those were the principles that kept the ranch and his life running smoothly.
Doing that and keeping his family safe were the last promises he’d made to his dad. That meant, regardless of how his body responded to her, the woman with the camera had to go. At least, that was the plan.
She managed to get away from him again, vanishing amongst the guests when friends stopped him to talk. He’d admire her grit if he weren’t ready to strangle her. But that was fine. She couldn’t elude him forever. And when he found her, she would be one very sorry Little girl.
Chance wastedthe rest of the day looking for the mystery photographer. He thought he’d seen a glimpse of her wild mane of blonde hair heading toward the toolshed, but by the time he reached it, she wasn’t there anymore. She was like a bratty, blonde Houdini.
Clenching his jaw, he added another tally to the ever-growing list of the things she’d pay for when he found her. This was usually one of his favorite days of the year. But this year, he couldn’t wait for the Friendsgiving celebration to be over.
By the end of the day, he had given up. The band moved inside and played in a corner while he sat with his family, roasting s’mores by the fireplace. If it hadn’t been for Gus and Silas seeing her as well, he would have thought she was a figment of his imagination.
That would explain his reaction to her. If he created her, she would have checked all his boxes. He felt the need to schedule some time at The Red Barn, the local BDSM club on the outskirts of a neighboring town. Evidently, he needed to spend some time with a submissive decorated with all the designs he could make with his ropes.
There were a couple of submissives who liked rope play. TheirDoms would stand by and watch his work. Once he was finished, he’d step aside, and their Doms would take over their play.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t found a Little who liked Shibari or Semenawa for himself. He wasn’t going to enter a relationship that would leave one or both partners unfulfilled, or worse, with feelings of trauma and abuse.
Lifting his glass to his lips, he took a long draw of his whiskey, resisting the urge to throw the crystal rock glass against the fireplace just to watch it shatter. Of course, it would never happen, and not because it was the finest Waterford crystal. No, he treated the glass with care because it had been his mother’s favorite set.
“I don't understand why you can't just let it go.” Leave it to his brother, Tanner, to cut straight to the heart of the matter.
Before he could speak, his brother, Trace, Tanner's twin, cut in. “Did she take anything, or destroy any ranch property? I'm a little confused as to why you can't let it go myself.”
His brothers were missing the point. “I don't know what she did and didn't do. I just know she snuck onto the ranch and bothered all the guests. Not to mention she damn near got herself killed by climbing in the holding pen with Ironside.”
That was the thing that had him breaking into a cold sweat every time he thought about it. She could have been killed.
“The only thing I heard was what a great photographer she was,” Tildi said. Turning to Boone, she added, “I also heard she's a boudoir photographer. That sounds interesting, don't you think?”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57