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* * *

Aaron

She turned, ever so slowly, as though she was doing a ballet pirouette. But once she had, her wild eyes and flushed face spoke volumes.

Aaron glanced at Nate, sitting so calmly you’d think he had a raging redhead in his office every day.

Hell. It’s Discipline Ranch. He probably does.

Then he turned his gaze right back where it belonged: the angry sub that had just stormed in and upended the boss’s office.Nother smartest move. “I’ll ask again, and if I don’t get an answer, I’ll pull your pants down right here.” He watched as she jolted at that.Good. Now I have her full attention.

But it only lasted a moment. Then she was glaring at Nate. “He lied to me!”

Nate heard this with the same impassive expression.

“Any idea what she’s talking about?”

Nate shook his head. “No, she hasn’t said much. Just marched in and started yelling. Then”—he gestured to his now practically empty desktop—“well, you saw.”

Aaron saw Chyanne’s eyes widen, and it made his jaw clench.Good. You should be afraid.“Chyanne?”

“H-he did,” she said, her voice lowering an octave. “He lied to me. He lured me here on false pretenses. He told me I had this job…” She stopped, pressed her lips together, her face pale with anger.

“I don’t understand. Youdohave a job.”

She shook her head. “No. Not just me. There are others…” She trailed off again, evidently reluctant to explain.

Aaron reined in his own irritation. He’d been headed to Nate’s office for a quick meeting about the upcoming rodeo when he’d heard Chyanne’s voice. For about half a second, he’d been excited. That had quickly faded when he’d heard her yelling. He’d walked into the open doorway just in time to see her clear Nate’s desk.

He was a dom. That meant that when he got angry, he had to channel it into something useful. If it hadn’t been for his training and self-discipline, he might have plucked a hairbrush off Nate’s wall and put it to work. As it was, she wasn’t in a place where even punishment would be very effective.

“I’m gonna take her to her room now, if that’s okay.”

Nate nodded, and without another word Aaron took Chyanne by the shoulder and led her from the room.

* * *

Chandler

When Chandler walked in the door, the sight that greeted him was an unusual one, to say the least. Chyanne was sitting on the ottoman, nearly naked except for ropes wound across her delicate skin. She was also in crotchless panties, her legs spread wide open.

His interest would have been piqued, except that she was wearing a ball gag and a wide-eyed look of trepidation. He froze in place, eyes scanning the scene before him. The source of her angst soon became clear: the sweating ice cube that Aaron held in his hand. He was moving it with meticulous precision, ignoring her cries and splutters that was all the protest she was capable of.

He wasn’t sure what had happened to inspire this particular brand of punishment, or how long it had been going on. Chyanne was glistening with droplets that very well could have been sweat, and she looked exhausted.

Chandler cleared his throat.

“I heard you come in, bro,” Aaron answered without looking up as he traced the ice cube along her collarbone to the sound of muffled groans. “I’m almost ready for a break.”

It was fascinating to watch as he trailed it up her neck.

“Head up,” he ordered, his voice soft and authoritative.

She obeyed, her chin quivering, squeezing her eyes shut as he painstakingly worked the cold across her long, delicate throat.

“Stay just like that,” he ordered as he stood to his feet. “Don’t move aninch, understand?”

Opening her eyes, she gave a single bob of her head. But Chandler couldn’t say she looked relieved to be taking a break.