Wrangler, Chapter 7

I had cravings to tell her: • Listen to Daddy • Be a good girl • Show Daddy what you’re wearing How did I know if she’d welcome my need to cuddle her and take her over my knee for naughty funishment?

Wrangler, Chapter 7
Photo by zelle duda / Unsplash

Hi There,

So sorry. I said I'd have this to you on Saturday, but life intervened.

Hope it's worth the wait 😊


"Ha! I'd rather sleep with the elephant seals," Jasmine spat, her hair cascading in thick, dark waves past her shoulders in a way that made me want to hold their soft silk in my hands like reins.

She bit her bottom lip, mulling over my offer, much as she hated it, making my groin ache. That little dog needed a roof over her head, even if her owner had to swallow her pride and accept help from me, her villain-turned-hero.

I cleared my throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence that settled between us where we stood stiffly on the sidewalk, just down from her newly torched home. "Suit yourself," I replied over my shoulder while pretending to walk away. As if I were unfazed by her sass, rather than it making me want to spank her silly. "But I reckon those seals won't be much help with making sure your precious pup doesn’t have to spend a night out in the cold.” I knew she’d do anything so her furry companion could spend the night in comfort.

What was it with women and their pets?

I counted the stars overhead instead of counting to ten, waiting for the realization to hit her. In the interim, I blamed the ache for my perplexing behavior. Namely, putting myself in close proximity to a woman who couldn’t stand my ass because of something I did out of necessity nearly three decades ago.

Finally, she broke her silence, voice tinged with resignation. "Fine, I'll stay, only until I can find a place of my own.” She jabbed her finger accusingly at my face and I gritted my teeth in response. “But don’t get any ideas.” It was obvious she despised me, and I grudgingly acknowledged she had valid reasons for doing so.

But that didn’t mean I’d tolerate disrespect.

Not from her.

Not from anyone.

Having her anywhere near me was a mistake. The strain between us was palpable when I approached her. She crossed her arms and glared, her lips pressed into a thin line which made me want to kiss them soft and yielding. That was a dangerous path to meander, one that I vowed never to tread again after the mess I’d made of things all those years ago.

Besides, when I thought of enforcing my rules with Jasmine it made the aforementioned ache intensify into a scorching throb that I was going to have to do something about later on.

What was I thinking?

My actions were entirely irrational.

At this juncture, the least cerebral part of my body was in control. I stepped my feet apart hoping to relieve the uncomfortable hammering between my legs.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I lied. It’d be difficult to think of anything but going into the guest room where she’d sleep… waking her up with my mouth and hands on her body. My head was plumb full of ideas about how I wanted to prove to Jasmine that I wasn't the same person she used to know. I was no longer a reckless teenager, but a man who craved to go down on her, right between her juicy thighs, and taste her. To explore her body and discover the secret places that would bring her the most pleasure.

To make her submit to me by using my mouth alone.

That was something I’d hold in reserve.

I was getting ideas alright, but I didn’t admit that to her.

Hell no.

"Relax," I assured her. "there's plenty of space between the guest room and mine. Besides, I wouldn't dream of invading your personal bubble." I used two fingers to obnoxiously trace a small circle around her head, purposefully annoying her.

She let out a breath heavy with irritation. "Whatever."

Never could I have guessed that the sweet little girlfriend I once knew would turn into such a grating and insufferable adult.

Spending time in close proximity wasn’t going to be any picnic. "You won't even notice I'm there." With a wink I knew she’d hate, I turned and headed towards my truck parked in the distance, confident she’d begrudgingly follow.

She didn’t have a choice.

Just in case, I reminded, “Don’t let my tail lights get out of sight on the way there. They don’t call this the Lost Coast for nothing.”

As if I’d let her fall to far behind.

I cracked my window as we drove over the winding roads leading to Paradise Ranch. The air was filled with the scent of spruce trees and fresh earth, a stark contrast to the sooty smoke which saturated my clothes.

As we rode in our separate vehicles, the silence became a thick, palpable thing in the air of my truck cab, forcing me to turn on the radio, a thing I rarely did. I wasn’t a man who ran from silence like most. "I Will Always Love You" by Dolly Parton was playing.


The song she used to say reminded her of us.

Of course it was.

Luckily, God's sick sense of humor no longer caught me by surprise.

Jasmine's present day icy demeanor towards me, and biting remarks couldn't abolish the memories of our shared past. It was one filled with innocence and infatuation — light years away from the depraved lust for her that consumed me now.

Cravings like commanding her to:

•	Listen to Daddy
•	Don’t disobey Daddy
•	Be a good girl
•	Stay close to Daddy
•	Be safe
•	Show Daddy what you’re wearing
•	Tell Daddy about your day
•	Close your eyes, baby

She wasn’t mine to look after and spoil. I’d lost that privilege when I sent her away and I couldn’t expect her to jump on the forgiveness bandwagon just because I was sorry. Besides, how did I know if she’d welcome my need to cuddle her and take her over my knee for naughty funishment? Or whether it would make her run for the hills?


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