sorry, honestly. Please, please let me go first,” she said.
“Otherwise I’ll never be able to do it. There’s something…oh man, this is
harder than I thought. This is gonna be messy.”
But it was the
look on her face—open and vulnerable—that convinced him to keep
quiet.
Every male
instinct was screaming at him that he had this beautiful woman in front of him
that he wanted more than anything else he could name at this particular moment
in time, and he had to fight it every second she was standing in front of him,
being beautiful, and now she was telling him he had to wait a little longer
before he could explain.
God. Damn.
For her, he could
do it.
“I can do messy.”
She smiled. He
felt good. It never got old.
“Ok,” she said,
taking a deep breath. “This thing with Richie, the photos? It’s not just
embarrassing. It’s not just… It’s taken so much from me, Chance. I mean, yeah,
I feel pretty violated, and that has messed me up pretty good. But it’s ruined
my career, too.”
“How?”
“Do you remember
me from anything?”
She had a point.
“No.”
“Yeah. All of my
on-screen roles have been, like, Slutty Waitress, or Ditzy Cheerleader, or,
well, you get the point. Except for a sitcom that got cancelled after one
season. Right, well, shockingly, that’s not what I dreamed of doing. I love
dramatic roles. I write. I think I might be pretty good, too. And I was just
starting to break in as something other than slutty set dressing, just starting to get taken seriously as
a writer.”
She was looking
down at the ground now, digging her feet into the grass, her voice sad. He wished
he could fix it for her.
“I was just
starting to believe I could really do it, you know?” she said, looking up at
him so he could see her eyes were wet. “And now I’m a fucking punch line.”
Chance was
starting to put together what was happening, and knew he had only a few minutes
to make a decision. If she really needed his help, he wouldn’t be able to turn
her away.
“Look,” she went
on, “I’m aware of how crazy this is. We just met yesterday, technically. And
part of what’s messing me up is how I was so dumb to trust someone like
Richie.”
Chance shrugged.
“Be fair to yourself. We had a hell of a day yesterday.”
“You going to let
me finish?” she said, throwing a clump of grass at him.
“Might as well.” He
grinned back. “But I’m warning you, you keep talking to me like that, and
you’re going to earn yourself a paddling.”
“A paddling?”
“Or similar.”
She looked at him,
wide-eyed, like she couldn’t tell if he was serious. Let her figure out that he
was. She must know he was a Dom—the only reason he hadn’t taken her over
his knee already was that he wasn’t sure if she knew what it meant.
“I hate that
you’ve seen the pictures,” she said suddenly. “That you’ve seen me like that.
Because that’s not—”
“I haven’t,”
Chance said, forcefully. “No. I told you I wouldn’t, and I didn’t.”
“Then how did you
know?”
“Someone suggested
to me what they contained, and who the man was. That’s all.”
An eyebrow went
up. “Suggested what they contained?”
No way in hell he
was telling her that a thirteen year old had found them on the internet . It’s not like she didn’t know that was happening,
but she didn’t need it thrown in her face, either.
“Lena, I don’t
care what’s in the photos. I care that they hurt you. You don’t have to tell me
about them.”
“Yes, I do,” she
said, standing up a little straighter. “He had me tied up in chains. He had a
whip. Or a flogger? There are some photos where I’m
flogging him. I didn’t really like that. There are…toys. And honestly, after
that, I’m not really sure. I couldn’t go through all of them. I doubt I ever
will.”
She was looking
him dead in the eye, like she needed to prove something. He had no idea what.
She had to know that none of that shocked
“Otherwise I’ll never be able to do it. There’s something…oh man, this is
harder than I thought. This is gonna be messy.”
But it was the
look on her face—open and vulnerable—that convinced him to keep
quiet.
Every male
instinct was screaming at him that he had this beautiful woman in front of him
that he wanted more than anything else he could name at this particular moment
in time, and he had to fight it every second she was standing in front of him,
being beautiful, and now she was telling him he had to wait a little longer
before he could explain.
God. Damn.
For her, he could
do it.
“I can do messy.”
She smiled. He
felt good. It never got old.
“Ok,” she said,
taking a deep breath. “This thing with Richie, the photos? It’s not just
embarrassing. It’s not just… It’s taken so much from me, Chance. I mean, yeah,
I feel pretty violated, and that has messed me up pretty good. But it’s ruined
my career, too.”
“How?”
“Do you remember
me from anything?”
She had a point.
“No.”
“Yeah. All of my
on-screen roles have been, like, Slutty Waitress, or Ditzy Cheerleader, or,
well, you get the point. Except for a sitcom that got cancelled after one
season. Right, well, shockingly, that’s not what I dreamed of doing. I love
dramatic roles. I write. I think I might be pretty good, too. And I was just
starting to break in as something other than slutty set dressing, just starting to get taken seriously as
a writer.”
She was looking
down at the ground now, digging her feet into the grass, her voice sad. He wished
he could fix it for her.
“I was just
starting to believe I could really do it, you know?” she said, looking up at
him so he could see her eyes were wet. “And now I’m a fucking punch line.”
Chance was
starting to put together what was happening, and knew he had only a few minutes
to make a decision. If she really needed his help, he wouldn’t be able to turn
her away.
“Look,” she went
on, “I’m aware of how crazy this is. We just met yesterday, technically. And
part of what’s messing me up is how I was so dumb to trust someone like
Richie.”
Chance shrugged.
“Be fair to yourself. We had a hell of a day yesterday.”
“You going to let
me finish?” she said, throwing a clump of grass at him.
“Might as well.” He
grinned back. “But I’m warning you, you keep talking to me like that, and
you’re going to earn yourself a paddling.”
“A paddling?”
“Or similar.”
She looked at him,
wide-eyed, like she couldn’t tell if he was serious. Let her figure out that he
was. She must know he was a Dom—the only reason he hadn’t taken her over
his knee already was that he wasn’t sure if she knew what it meant.
“I hate that
you’ve seen the pictures,” she said suddenly. “That you’ve seen me like that.
Because that’s not—”
“I haven’t,”
Chance said, forcefully. “No. I told you I wouldn’t, and I didn’t.”
“Then how did you
know?”
“Someone suggested
to me what they contained, and who the man was. That’s all.”
An eyebrow went
up. “Suggested what they contained?”
No way in hell he
was telling her that a thirteen year old had found them on the internet . It’s not like she didn’t know that was happening,
but she didn’t need it thrown in her face, either.
“Lena, I don’t
care what’s in the photos. I care that they hurt you. You don’t have to tell me
about them.”
“Yes, I do,” she
said, standing up a little straighter. “He had me tied up in chains. He had a
whip. Or a flogger? There are some photos where I’m
flogging him. I didn’t really like that. There are…toys. And honestly, after
that, I’m not really sure. I couldn’t go through all of them. I doubt I ever
will.”
She was looking
him dead in the eye, like she needed to prove something. He had no idea what.
She had to know that none of that shocked
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