Ansel's Mountain

281 Pages·2016·0.81 MB·English

by  Roberts Reesa

Ansel’s
Mountain
By
Reesa Roberts
Ansel’s
Mountain
By
Reesa Roberts
ANewsiteWebServicesBook
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Copyright2008©byReesaRoberts
Thisbookmaynotbereproducedinwholeorpart,
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Notices
Ansel’s Mountain is a work of complete fiction.
No character in the book is meant to represent any
realperson,livingordead.
Ansel’s Mountain contains sexual and spanking
fantasies. Inreallife,alwayspracticesafesex.

Chapter One
Kiria skillfully added yellow highlights to the
wildflower leaves in the foreground of her canvas.
With a critical eye, she stepped back and compared
the glistening acrylic landscape to the natural view
before her. The daisies didn’t look quite bright
enough, and she dipped a stippling brush into her
palette’s titanium white as a mild breeze tickled the
backofherneck.
Sitting in this sloping mountain meadow had
been a wonderful idea, she thought, congratulating
herself on her ingenuity. Surely no one had ever
painted this scene before. It probably wasn’t often
thatanyoneevenclimbeduphere,letalonecrossed
the barbed wire fence emblazoned with the words,
“Privateproperty:Trespasserswillbeprosecuted.”
Kiria had never purposefully broken the law
before, but the spectacular view she’d glimpsed
from the highway had been irresistible. She’d
parked her car in the grass beside the emergency
lane, hiked for thirty minutes, and climbed a steep,
rockyinclinetogethere.
Shesmiledinsatisfactionas she lookedover the
painting one last time. With great care, she set the
canvas into her paint box and twisted the screws
into the wooden frame, securing it in place before
closing the protective lid. Returning her tools to
their respective slots, she then folded up her easel
and aluminum-framed chair. All of these items fit
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neatly into her backpack, which was thrown easily
overoneshoulder.
Blinking into the bright mid-morning sunlight,
she began the trek back towards the rugged ridge
she’d scaled earlier. It was a warm, beautiful day,
the kind that was made for lazing in the sun and
watching the clouds float by. Although she wanted
to stay longer and enjoy it, she knew she didn’t
have any right to be here. She should get back to
hercarassoonaspossible.
As she gazed across the meadow, the bordering
forest of oak, elm and maple hardwoods beckoned
to her. Their branches waved gently in the breeze
and she could hear the chatter of squirrelsthrough
the rustling leaves. She spotted three of the clever
little creatures chasing each other up an oak’s wide
trunk, only to leap to a nearby pine bough,
scrabbling frantically for a firm purchase. Smiling at
their antics, she stopped to watch for just a
moment.
Thecool,invitingshadedrewKiriaforwardagain
as she wiped a drop of sweat from her brow. She
skirted around a thicket of briars and then looked
up to see amannear the edge of the forestwalking
briskly toward her, his long legs slicing through the
knee-high grass like butter. Cursing silently, she
quickly glanced around. There was nowhere to run
or hide. She was standingclearly out in the openas
he advanced, with nothing between them but
nature’sovergrowncarpet.
Kiria backed away slowly, watching the man
warily. Tall and rugged-looking, his biceps bulged
beneath the sleeves of a plain black tee-shirt. He
held a rifle in one hand, which stood out starkly
against his light khaki jeans. She felt a tremor of
fear run down her spine as the distance narrowed,
andshesquintedtomakeouthisfacialfeatures.
Intimidation then gave way to shock as she
recognized the incredibly handsome visage of Ansel
White, the local network’s wildlife narrator. With an
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overwhelming surge of excitement, she threw down
her backpack and pulled her hair out of its ponytail,
shakingitloosetofallinshiny,golden-brownwaves
down her back. She cursed herself for not putting
on makeup that morning, and bit her lips for color.
Glancing down at her clothing, she hastily
rearranged the hem of her shirt. It fell smoothly
just above the top of her low, hip-riding jeans,
showing off her new belly button ring. Her shirt’s
neckline was cut low, framing the swell of her
breasts. A silver eagle dangling from a thin chain
nestled in her cleavage. She smiled widely, her
even white teeth—that she meticulously bleached
everySundaynight—flashinginthesun.
Kiria was about to meet Ansel White, whose
Saturday morning show enticed even her mother to
drool over its star and inadvertently learn about
wildlife! Scanning the immediate area for a camera
crew, she wondered if they might even be filming
right now! She held her breath as he stopped short
severalfeet away fromher,and they stared ateach
other in silence for an interminable moment. Kiria’s
heart pounded against her eardrums. She couldn’t
think of anything to say! What did one say to a
celebrity, anyway? He was even more impressive in
person than on camera, his cerulean blue eyes
glinting in the sun beneath dark, expressive brows.
Shegazedguilelesslyupintohisangry expression.
“Mr. White!” she finally breathed, feeling a bit
faint. “I can’t believe it’s you! Oh, I love your show,
Mr.White!”
Ansel White ignored the compliment, propped
his rifle butt against the ground, and gazed sternly
downat her.“What are you doing onmy property?”
he growled. His forbidding tone was unfortunately
lostonthestar-struckgirlbeforehim.
“I was painting a canvas! Could I have your
autograph, Mr. White? I have a pen here…” Kiria
dropped to her knees and hastily unzipped her
backpack,rummagingaboutinitssidepocket.
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“No.” His gruff reply didn’t register, though, as
her fingers closed triumphantly around a ballpoint
pen.Shejumpedbackup,holdingitouttohim.
“I don’t seem to have any paper! Would you
sign my backpack, then? This is so exciting to meet
you up here! I can’t wait to tell my mother! She
won’t believe it!” Kiria picked up the backpack, still
pointing the pen toward him with her other hand.
Ansel frowned and took it, but then grasped her
hand, turning to walk back toward the forest. Kiria
was easily led along behind him, hurrying to keep
up. He was going to sit down somewhere and sign
her backpack! She was holding hands with Ansel
White!Thedryheatofhispalmagainsthercoolone
sent waves of pleasure to her brain, and she could
think of nothing else as they quickly crossed the
meadow.
Leading her past the first few trees, Ansel
stopped beside a huge log, dropped her hand, and
satdown.Kiriaheldouther backpack to him,giving
him a brilliant smile as he took it from her. Instead
of writing on it, though, he laid it down on the
ground, dropping her pen on top of it. The
unexpected action finally broke the spell that bound
her. Why wasn’t he signing her backpack? She
stood frozen in place before him, arms hanging
limplyathersides.
“Um… Mr. White, aren’t you going to sign it for
me?” she asked, beginning to notice that he didn’t
appear to be at all happy to meet her. In fact, he
lookedabitangry.
“No, I’m not. Now, if you can stop gushing long
enough to understand simple English, what are you
doingonmyproperty?”
His scathing sarcasm was like a slap in the face.
Kiria stared at him in sudden awareness of the
situation. She’d trespassed on his property, and he
was rightfully angry. Then she’d fawned over him
like asenseless idiotwhile he’d tried to confronther
with her crime. Swallowing hard, she backed up a
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step. “Um… uh, sir… I saw the view from the
highway,andIhikedupheretopaintit.Itwassuch
a beautiful spot, I just couldn’t resist...” Did his
frownrelaxjustalittle?
“Didn’tyouseetheprivatepropertysigns?”
“Signs?” she repeated dumbly, staring down at
his impossibly broad chest. “Y-yes… I did see some
signs...” She blinked hard, her mind rapidly
searching for a way to get out of this. “But… but I
can’tread,”sheembellished.
“That’s ridiculous.” His tone was more matter-
of-factthanangryandshedaredtoglanceathim.
“No, really! I have a learning disorder, and I
can’t even read the newspaper!” She watched him
cock one eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth
twitched. Encouraged, Kiria continued, hoping she
looked as pitiful as she felt. “I was in Special-Ed for
years, and I finally learned to read little words like
dogandcat,butthat’saboutit.”
Ansel stared silently at her until she broke eye
contact and looked down at her feet, stirring the
pine needles around with the toe of her new
Sketcherssneaker.
Finally,heasked,“Whydoyoucarryapen?”
“So I can ask people to write things down for
me,” she quickly answered,aided by thememory of
recently handing him her pen. Again he said
nothing, leaving her to agonize over what his next
question might be. She drew a circle in the pine
needles as she tried to immerse herself into this
role.
“Howdidyougetadriver’slicense?”
Her half-blind and long-past-driving-age
grandfather’s solution came to mind. “I memorized
theshapesandsymbolsofthestreetsigns.”
“Doyouhaveacheckingaccount?”
“No.”
“Howdoyoupayforthings?”
“Plastic,ofcourse.”Thiswastrue.
“Whopaysyourbillsforyou?”
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“My mother.” After a pause, Kiria added, “But,
with my money.” She didn’t want him to think she
hadnone.
“Howdoyoumakemoney?”
“Isellmypaintings.”Trueagain.
“What’syourname?”
She paused again, and then thought, well, why
lieaboutthat? “Kiria.”
“Kira?That’sunusual;howdoyouspellit?”
A wave of frustration ran through her -- how
manypeoplehadmispronounceditthatwaybefore?
“It’sKiria,notKira.K,i,r—” shebegan,thenlooked
up hastily and added, “Well, of course I can spell
my name, it was only drilled into me about a
thousandtimesaday.”
“Well,Kiria,sinceyoucan’tread,I’lljusthaveto
take you down to the local police station and let
themsortthisout.”
“What?!” She met his stern gaze with
astonishment. “But I didn’t know it was private
property!”
“Ignorance is no excuse for breaking the law,”
he quotedgruffly.Thenhe reached down,pickedup
her backpack and pen, and held them out to her.
“You trespassed on my property. That’s a crime.
Let’sgo.”
It was just cut and dried to him, she thought,
her pulse racing at the thought of being arrested.
How could he do this? This wasn’t the charming
man she’d watched every Saturday morning for the
pastyear.
“You’re really going to press charges against
me?” she exclaimed, feeling a growing sense of
alarm.“ButIdidn’thurtanythinghere!Ididn’tsteal
anything! I just painted a picture, for God’s sake!”
All thoughts of heroworshippingfinally vanished as
Kiria put her hands on her hips and glared down at
Mr.AnselWhiteoflocalTVfame.
Then she quickly backed up a step as he rose to
his full height and lectured,“Young lady, I’ve tried
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