Page 27 of Shared on the Ranch

Easy, boy. Time will tell. No need to go and make any over-the-top declarations of love just yet, he chided himself. Not that he was quick to fall in love, exactly. But he was quick to get attached, and it often got him hurt.

Still… staring down at her, the gentle, childlike lines of her face in sleep, the way her auburn hair fanned out like beautiful flames against the pillow… he couldn’t help but feel for her.

She was in a brand-new, unfamiliar environment, and they had asked a lot of her right from the get-go.

He didn’t know if she really was a Little or a sub. Maybe she was neither of those things, and just a plain-vanilla spitfire that had wandered onto their ranch looking for a job and nothing more. But somehow, he doubted it. There was just something about the way she had looked when she’d submitted to their control that made him think shehadto be one of those things. That she had to belong to their world.

On the other hand, she wore quite a few of his handprints, so that could have had something to do with it, too. Still… he had an instinct about these sorts of things.

A sleepy moan jarred him out of his thoughts and he watched as she stretched her arms above her head, yawning before her eyes opened. They registered him without surprise… in fact, she almost seemed happy to find him standing over her.

“Morning,” she whispered, her voice babyish with sleep.

That was all it took for his cock to be standing at attention. Just one softly uttered word.

“Mornin’.” He winced as he heard the gruffness in his own voice, but Chyanne didn’t seem to notice. “You hungry?”

Right on cue, her tummy rumbled. She giggled. “I guess so.”

“Okay, uh, well, get dressed and come eat.” And then, like the gentleman he was, he left the room to give her some privacy. It was for his own benefit, too. He couldn’t be around her without remembering the delicious sensation of his cock filling her tight, wet pussy. The longer he was near her smelling the fragrance of her skin—did she wake upeverymorning smelling like gardenias? How was that even possible?—the more painful it was to not be buried inside her.

“She’s up,” he announced to Aaron as he reentered the kitchen.

The other man was wearing leather pants today, no shirt, and was holding a flogger, casually flicking his wrist and making the flails snap.

“Not hungry?” Chandler asked, noting the empty plate in front of the other man.

“I don’t do breakfast.”

Chandler’s brows shot up, but he didn’t comment. “I figured today we’d stay here and tomorrow morning we’ll send her to the breakfast hall.”

“What’s the breakfast hall?”

Surprised, he turned around to see Chyanne in a pink checkered nightgown. Her hair was rumpled, making her curls look unruly as they clustered around her pale, freckled face. “That was fast, kitten.”

She wrinkled her nose adorably. “Do I look like a cat to you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Aaron drawled from where he sat. “My very own sex kitten.”

“Hey!Our, you mean.” Chandler made a show of glaring until Aaron rolled his eyes.

“Fine,ours.”

“That’s better. Youarepretty light on your feet, like a cat,” he added to Chyanne.

“Hmm.” Her brow scrunched as she considered this, but then she seemed to give up and shrug. “Is there coffee?”

Chandler looked at Aaron, who shrugged. “Sure.” He pointed.

Chyanne shuffled off in that direction and opened the cupboard above the coffeepot, selecting a mug. After she poured herself a cup and took the first sip, she turned to face them. “Why do you two keep doing that?”

It was Aaron that answered, “Doing what?”

“Looking at each other like you’re talking about me with your eyes.” She began to sip in earnest, but her eyes went back and forth between them over the rim of the mug.

“I guess we are, kitten.”

“Why?”

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