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Held for the Stud

Page 6

by Vonna Harper


  “Don’t be in a hurry,” she said. “Move slow and steady. Talk to her. Keep your voice low and soothing. She wants to please you.”

  “Then she needs to stand still.”

  “You’re making her nervous. Remember what I told you about horses being prey animals. They’re hardwired to put their safety first.”

  Andy apologized. Still, she decided to limit his first lesson to preparation. “You can mount and ride her tomorrow,” she said as she loosened the cinch. “In the meantime I’ll work out a level route without obstacles for you to take.”

  “You’re going with me, right? I mean, I’d like that.”

  “It’s probably a good idea. At least for the first few times.”

  He gave her another of his quick not-quite-there smiles. “I’m looking forward to us spending time together away from—you know.”

  Not in the mood to have him spell out what he meant by ‘you know’, she led Babe back to the pasture. Andy followed.

  Every man was different, she reminded herself as she made a point of not acknowledging Andy’s closeness. Two had barely spoken to her. In fact, they’d hardly spoken at all. The one on crutches spent a lot of time on his cell phone, his voice low. Other than not wanting anyone to overhear, he seemed friendly enough. The other two soldiers’ self-isolation bothered her, but what could she do? Maybe it would take years of solitary walks for them to mentally heal.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Andy said. “I have no objections to hanging out at a farm or ranch or whatever they want to call this place, and it’s sure as hell better than being forced to talk to a shrink, but I’m not like the others.”

  “Oh? What are they like?”

  “Uptight. Messed up here.” He tapped his forehead. “You should hear them at night, the nightmares. That sure isn’t me. I sleep like a baby—or I would if this didn’t get in the way.” He cupped his hand over his cock.

  Wondering if she should have seen that coming, she stayed quiet.

  “I haven’t shocked you, have I?” He patted her shoulder. “You can’t be surprised. I’m a red-blooded— Are you married?”

  “Andy.” She kept her voice firm. “My job is to care for the livestock. It doesn’t go beyond that.”

  “I get it.” He tried to smile. “I’m just—oh, never mind.” He again placed his hand over his crotch. “It’s been a long time.”

  “I understand.”

  He brightened. “Do you? Are you saying you aren’t getting any?”

  “Andy, don’t go there.”

  He lifted his free hand as if holding up a stop sign. “You can’t blame me for trying. You’re so damned sexy.”

  Chapter Nine

  “I saw,” Banner said when she came into the kitchen that evening. “You and Andy.”

  She held back from pointing out she hadn’t seen him for days, and didn’t they have more important things to talk about? He must have arrived while she was trying to show Andy how to gain Babe’s trust. If his goal had been to catch her doing something he objected to, she didn’t see how she could go on working for him.

  Then why did seeing him bring a flush to her cheeks and elsewhere?

  Because the food preparation area in her RV was almost nonexistent, she’d been taking advantage of the house’s kitchen. It lacked high-end features, but the stove worked and the large refrigerator kept things cold. For the past two evenings she’d been there at the same time as the two quietest men and the cook. Last night the four of them had talked about vegetables they liked and those they could do without, the conversation flowing easily. She couldn’t imagine ever feeling relaxed around Banner.

  “Did you?” she asked unnecessarily.

  “He touched you.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “You let him.”

  “What did you expect me to do?” she snapped. Fortunately right now they had the kitchen to themselves. “Punch his lights out?”

  “Make it clear he has no business stepping into your personal space.”

  “I did.”

  “Do you think he heard?”

  “I can’t say. Banner, I have no control over his movements and thoughts. He wants to learn how to ride horses. That’s what you want me doing. Helping build their confidence.”

  “That’s how you saw it? A confidence-building session?”

  “Whatever.” Her intention had been to make a salad for dinner, but for that to happen she’d have to stay in Banner’s presence long enough to pull the ingredients together. She didn’t like that she’d missed having him around even though his absence had been what her libido needed. Sex appeal, which he had in spades, was impossible to ignore. “Where have you been?”

  His blink said he hadn’t expected the question. “Seeing my dad.”

  “Oh?”

  He planted himself on a stool where he’d have an unobstructed view of what she did. Determined not to let him think he intimidated her, she opened the refrigerator and pulled out lettuce, onions, a large bell pepper, peas and grated carrots. Reaching back in, she snagged a slice of ham and some cheese.

  “My father is one of the financial backers.”

  No longer interested in salad preparation, she leaned on the counter. “Oh.”

  “My dad’s a shrink, as are many of his friends. They work with people who have PTSD.”

  Surprised that he was pulling back a curtain on his personal world, she waited. It was impossible, of course, but had he become more handsome since she’d last seen him? Except ‘handsome’ wasn’t the right word. That label belonged on movie stars, singers and some athletes. He was rough around the edges and maybe in the middle. This was a soldier, a fighter, a man with conviction and confidence. If he had nightmares, he kept them to himself. Maybe even his shrink father didn’t know about them.

  “There’s money in psychiatry,” he said. “Dad tried working for the military, but it wasn’t a good fit. Too much regimentation. Still, soldiers need his skill and compassion, mostly the compassion part. When things started going sideways with New Undine, he talked to his colleagues and some other professionals who feel like he does, that the army way isn’t the only option when it comes to helping soldiers cope.” He speared her with another of his penetrating stares. “That’s what Escape is about. Dad’s group provides the finances and conviction. I’m tasked with implementing their plan.”

  She hadn’t thought about the pressure he was under. If she’d thought he’d let her express sympathy or empathy or something, she would have offered, but she sensed that wasn’t what he wanted from her.

  “They spelled out what they hoped to accomplish and you went along?”

  Picking up the knife she’d intended to use, he ran a finger over the sharp edge. “It’s a hell of a lot more complex than me going along with a concept.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, although in a way she had. Other than agreeing with his dad, did he have a reason for going to all that effort?

  “Didn’t you?” He used the knife to cut off a slice of the green pepper. He placed it in his mouth. “It’s good to be home.”

  He’d selected one of the bedrooms for himself, hung his shirts in the closet, maybe placed his jeans in a dresser. He wasn’t a man for pajamas. If he wore anything to bed, it would be briefs or boxers. He might have a robe for cold mornings and a pair of slippers. She knew he slept alone when he was here, but he could come and go as he wanted. Maybe he’d visited a woman when he wasn’t with his dad.

  “Back to your relationship with Andy,” he said. “I’m not going to say much about why particular soldiers are invited to decompress here. The reasons are individual. As for Andy—you should know he took a female soldier’s underwear.”

  As crimes went that wasn’t a major one. She said so.

  “You’re brushing it off? That’s how you’d react if you caught him in your room?”

  “You didn’t say—that’s creepy.”

  “He outranks that particular s
oldier, which is why she didn’t press charges. His superior wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t confided in another woman. He got away with what you call ‘creepy’ behavior at least once. Probably more. I wasn’t surprised to see him come up with an excuse to be around you. To touch you.”

  “If you hadn’t seen us together, would you have warned me?”

  “I wanted to observe him, for you not to give anything away.”

  About to retort that she didn’t appreciate being set up, she reminded herself that she’d told him she could hold her own. Buying herself time to calm down, she took her partly full bottle of wine out of the refrigerator and poured herself a glass.

  “I trust you grasp where I’m coming from,” he said as she took her first swallow. “I’ll be disappointed, which you’ll regret, if you don’t. Act normal around Andy. Treat him like you do any other man in your life.”

  She snorted more than laughed and swallowed again. The hot burn down her throat felt good, relaxing.

  “What are you laughing about?” he asked.

  “About how little you know me. Normal and my childhood had nothing in common.”

  She hadn’t drunk enough to have lost the ability to judge how much of a personal nature to reveal. The things Banner had done to her, the body parts he’d seen and touched, rendered decorum a joke.

  Deep in a private place she hoped he didn’t realize existed, she didn’t mind. It was as if he’d peeled back a layer and exposed a part of her nature she barely acknowledged. After years of being damn sure she was committed to holding her own, he’d hauled her in a new direction, one where she did everything he commanded her to do. Not only did she not want to fight it, a part of her wanted to see how far he could take her.

  “What was your childhood like?” he asked.

  Tell him. Give him what he wants. “Unstable. Homeless a few times. Stealing food because I was hungry.” She finished half of the wine in a long gulp. “The sperm donor was a no-show. My mother went through men, a lot of men. That’s how I learned to hold my own.”

  He picked up the knife again. “You were sexually abused?”

  “That hasn’t happened for years.” She pointedly looked at the knife.

  “But when you were too little to—”

  “I really don’t want to talk about that.” She waited until a particularly unsettling memory lessened its hold on her nerves. “I don’t need a shrink.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She wasn’t, but that wasn’t his concern. Darn it, she’d kept her past locked in a box for so long. She knew better than to haul it out, especially around a man like him. Especially around him.

  “I don’t control Andy’s mindset,” she said. “What I can do is make him regret it if he tries anything with me. He steals women’s underwear. That isn’t in the same league as sexual abuse.”

  “That isn’t all.”

  “Oh?”

  To her frustration, he didn’t immediately respond. She finished off her wine then got out a cutting board and, using another knife, started on the vegetables. She wasn’t a gourmet cook, but she could hold her own in a kitchen. There was something calming about putting random ingredients together with only a vague idea of what the finished product was going to be. Her cooking skills had kept her mother from malnutrition. A liver destroyed by alcohol had killed her, which was why Asha limited her drinking.

  “Andy has seen and done things no one should,” Banner said. “He hides behind a smart-ass attitude. Someday that might not be enough of a shield. If things unravel, there might not be anything left of him.”

  “What about you? You aren’t a smart-ass. Instead, it’s your way or your way. What happens if you can’t hold it together?”

  “I won’t let things get to that point.”

  “How can you be sure? You keep a grip on things by insisting people like me obey without question. What if I refuse to play by your rules?”

  “You’d regret it.”

  She tore into the lettuce. “I knew you’d say that, but you don’t own me. If I get the sense that confiding in me would help Andy—”

  “His problems aren’t yours.”

  “I’m a human being. I care—”

  “Their problems are a lot more serious than you can slap a bandage on.”

  “That’s not what I said. If there’s a chance he can benefit from my successes and failures, I’ll tell him about them.”

  “You couldn’t keep a roof over your head.”

  Furious, she gripped the knife handle with both hands. “Low blow. Uncalled for.”

  “Is it?”

  That was enough. She had zero interest in sparring with him. Still holding her weapon, she leaned across the counter and stared. He returned her glare.

  “What is this about?” she demanded.

  “Keeping you safe and alive.”

  “If that’s how you see your role, where the hell were you when my mother’s drugged-out boyfriend tried to sell me?”

  “He—damn him.”

  “He didn’t succeed.” She had to shut up. Say nothing. Protect herself. “I ran. For the better part of a month, I hid out. By the time I went looking for my mother, he was gone. I never asked what happened to him. She didn’t say.”

  Her confession swirled around her. She wanted to hate Banner for forcing her to reveal what she had, but it wasn’t his fault.

  “Everyone has things they don’t want to talk about.” He sounded tense. “The time might come when I insist you lay everything out for me, but at the moment your history isn’t important. I’m committed to keeping you safe.”

  “You already made that clear.” She couldn’t say why she was so angry—or if she really was.

  “They’re good men. At least they were before they were forced into this damnable war. Who knows what the hell they are now. They don’t know. That’s why Escape exists, so they can be alone with their thoughts.”

  Her heart ached for Andy and others like him, maybe Banner most of all, even though she was certain he’d never admit to being vulnerable.

  “What can I do?”

  “Damn it, I’m not going over this again. You should know that. Teach them how to ride a horse. Get them to help clean out a stall. Have them haul hay to where it needs to go. If possible single out one you’d trust around Koko.”

  “I’m not sure about that.”

  “Why not?”

  She paused. Decided. “All right. Here’s where I’m coming from. Ever since Mom’s druggie boyfriend shoved me at his buddies, I’ve hated dark alleys. If Koko makes these soldiers feel trapped—and he’s capable of pushing it—they’ll either run and think they’ve failed or they’ll try to dominate him. That might be the right time for me to encourage them to talk about why they reacted like they did.”

  “What if you say the wrong thing? Force them to talk about something they aren’t ready for?”

  “Then I’ll back away.”

  “It might be too late, damage done.”

  “You’re asking the impossible of me.” She was so tired of the conversation, of his demands.

  “No, I’m not.” He stood, knocking the stool over as he did. “You just don’t want to obey.”

  The word obey carried a warning. However, instead of running, she discarded her knife and widened her stance to make it clear she intended to stand her ground. Her pulse quickened, sending a whispered message of want and need to her crotch. He had no business making her react like she was.

  “I could say I regret having to do this,” he said, “but I don’t. The stronger I make the lesson, the longer the knowledge will last. Become permanent. Contrary to what I said a little while ago, I don’t have the time to look out for your safety. That’s your role. Be vigilant. Don’t ever drop your guard.”

  He was determined to ram his dominant nature down her throat. Let him try to call the shots and write each and every rule. She was equally determined to get her point across. He was wasting his time.

 
At least she hoped that was how it would turn out.

  “There’s no privacy in the kitchen,” he said. “My bedroom.” He jerked his head toward where she believed it was.

  “Is this a command?” she asked through clenched teeth.

  “I’d rather it didn’t have to be.”

  “You—I don’t understand.”

  “I believe it’s time for our relationship to expand, to deepen.”

  A shiver rolled through her. Maybe he was right.

  “You aren’t satisfied with the status quo?” she pressed.

  “Are you?”

  “I don’t know.” They stood staring at each other. If not for the difference in size and strength she’d be hard pressed to guess who would win the battle. “Throwing your weight around, are you?” She struggled to bring a light note to her voice. “You think I should be impressed?”

  “At this point I don’t want to force anything, but I will if it comes to that.”

  “You’re a bastard.”

  “No, as a matter of fact I’m not.”

  “I am,” she whispered.

  “That’s not what this is about.”

  I know. I was just—hell, I don’t know why I brought it up. “Right. You’re going to punish me.”

  “Yes.”

  There’d be no talking him out of what he intended to do. He’d made up his damn mind. Wishing she could hate him and be done with it, she started toward where he’d indicated. He walked close behind, putting her in mind of a cowboy herding cattle. As they approached one closed door after another, her mind went to what was going to happen once they reached his bedroom. After too long, she forcefully stopped her thoughts and simply walked and breathed and listened to the sound of their shoes on the hard flooring. Her heart was beating too fast.

  “Open my door. It isn’t locked.”

  He could if he wanted, shut her inside his bedroom with too many memories of the punishment he’d inflicted on her buttocks and elsewhere. Part of her wanted that, time and space to be alone with the impact of what he was capable of. She’d hate him, but it wasn’t that simple. His ‘give no ground’ nature had crawled inside her before. It would happen again.

 

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