Phoenyx Rising: A Possessive Cowboy Romance

by Joanna Blake

  "Now then."

  I lifted my foot up, resting my boot on the edge of the trough. I ignored the fact that her tight clothes were even tighter when wet. Or the way her wet, auburn hair somehow looked like rubies against the pearly translucence of her creamy skin.

  I ignored the fact that she looked like she wanted to kill me.

  I ignored how she looked even more stunning than usual with that crazy look in her eyes.

  Most of all, I ignored the fact that my dick was hard enough to hammer nails.

  "How bout some grub?"

  Chapter Four

  Phoenyx

  "I wanted to go home and change first. This is ridiculous. I'm sitting here in wet jeans!"

  The insufferable man calmly sipped his coffee and perused the menu as if I hadn't just spoken. As if I wasn't even here!

  As if my jeans weren’t riding up in my tush in the most uncomfortable way!

  I was so distracted I'd forgotten to order a drink. The waitress came back. I noticed she was being overly friendly to my new trainer. In fact, she was staring at Clint like she was starving and he was a steak.

  I made a little harumphing sound as he smiled at her cooly but politely. So he was capable of manners, after all, I thought as I glared at him. He was being perfectly nice to her, but to me he acted like a caveman!

  "What will the lady be having?" she said with an unfriendly glance in my direction.

  "I'll have a coke.”

  Clint interrupted immediately.

  “She’ll have sparkling water with lemon.”

  I glared at him but kept ordering. I didn't want to argue in front of the waitress. My mama didn't raise me to be rude to servers, that was certain.

  Even if the saucy bitch was giving me the side eye.

  He said nothing about my choice of a burger with steamed broccoli. But when I tried to order a milkshake he shook his head and simply said 'no.'

  I was stewing as he placed his order, biting my tongue until the waitress sauntered off with an exaggerated wiggle in her hips. She wasn’t being very subtle, I thought with a weird twinge of annoyance. I was about to roll my eyes when I noticed that Clint wasn't looking at her obvious display of feminine wiles.

  And even I had to admit the waitress was very pretty.

  But he hadn’t seemed to notice. He was just sitting there calmly, looking at me with his eyebrows raised over suspiciously guileless blue eyes.

  "Well?"

  "Well, what?"

  "Come on, wildcat. Out with it."

  I grit my teeth.

  "Out with what?"

  He smiled as if I'd said something funny and shook his head.

  "You are practically giving off steam you are so angry. Spit it out. It's not good for a rider to hold on to emotions. The animal can sense it.”

  "I never take my emotions into the ring."

  He leaned back and nodded.

  "Okay, then. That's real good. I guess we can skip that lesson."

  "We can skip all of them for all I care!"

  I started to stand but he gripped my arm.

  "Sit down. We have to give this a shot, wildcat. JJ went to a lot of trouble to hire me. I signed a contract and everything."

  "He's paying you? With my money?"

  Clint was having a grand old time. He smothered a laugh as the waitress came back, setting down my sparkling water with lemon. She asked him again if he wanted 'anything else.'

  This time I did roll my eyes.

  Clint barely glanced at her, telling her that he was fine just as he was. He did ask her to turn down the AC. He smiled at me lazily, which made my heart do a little flip flop.

  "My companion is a bit damp."

  I waited until the waitress was gone. I couldn't help but check to see if he looked at her bottom. He'd looked at mine enough times in the half day I'd known him!

  But, oddly enough, he didn't even look at her bottom. Not once.

  "What makes you think you have a right to dictate what I can eat?"

  "You're an athlete. I'm your trainer. End of story."

  I stared at him, my mouth opened and shutting as I tried to think of what to say.

  "Are you saying I'm fat?"

  "Hell no, woman I'm not blind. You are fit as a fiddle.”

  I was slightly mollified by that.

  "Well then, I will kindly ask you to mind your business. I am a grown woman, after all."

  He shook his head.

  "No darlin’, you're half grown."

  "What the hell does that mean?"

  He laughed at me like I was a puppy chasing it's own tail. It was clear he thought I was adorably harmless. That just made me madder.

  I may have said an unladylike word or two. Under my breath of course.

  "Such language."

  He leaned back in his seat and observed me.

  "You might be… physically mature,” he said, his eyes dancing down to my chest and back up again. I stiffened and glared to him. “But you have a lot of work to do up here."

  He tapped my head softly. Then he brushed my hair back from my face and gripped my chin. He turned my face slightly, looking me over.

  "But you've got loads of potential. In fact, I’d call you a diamond in the rough.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Gee thanks for the words of praise. Don’t be too effusive. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

  He stared at me steadily as our food was served. I felt like I was in a staring contest. Or playing a game of cat and mouse.

  I just wasn’t sure I was all that happy being the mouse.

  “I’ll try to contain myself,” was all he said.

  Chapter Five

  Clint

  The cicadas were humming outside while I stared at the ceiling, counting redheads. I lay flat on my bed, my arms behind my head and my ankles crossed, cowboy boots still on. I'd spent most of the night in the rocking chair on the front porch, deep in thought.

  Deep crap was more like it.

  Hell, I was in deeper than I’d ever been before.

  I had one big mambajamba of a problem on my hands.

  Phoenyx Delancey. Her attitude. Her age. Most of all, my overwhelming, come-hell-or-high-water attraction to her.

  I’d never felt anything like it. Not even close.

  I was like a damn stallion who scented a mare. Except I wasn't looking for a woman. I was working. I had a reputation to uphold, but that wasn’t the worst part. Her precious ass was my responsibility. I had to keep the girl safe. I couldn't go chasing her around the paddock, even if she was by far the finest filly I'd ever laid eyes on.

  A pain in the ass, but a damn fine woman.

  I'd noticed how she'd held her tongue at lunch. Well, kind of. As soon as I mentioned her manners, she'd clammed right up.

  I smiled to myself, remembering how she'd stewed there, wearing wet jeans. Everyone knew wet jeans were uncomfortable as all get out. But I'd needed to gain the upper hand if this was going to work.

  And I couldn’t help it if I liked knowing that she was thinking of me as those wet jeans pressed against her thighs. I liked it a lot.

  I wanted her to remember today. Every time she felt like getting uppity, she'd remember the clammy feel of those jeans on her cute little bottom. Even just thinking about those curves made my John Thomas sit up and take notice.

  She'd looked fine as hell, soaking wet or not.

  It was a good thing I'd had a towel in my car.

  Oh yes, I was going to tame Phoenyx Delancey and get her to the championship. Once she won that prize, I'd decide whether or not to act on my primal instincts. I just had to make it through the season without pouncing on her like a dog with a juicy steak. It wasn't going to be easy, but I was a grown man. I had discipline.

  I had principles.

  I also had a raging hard on with Phoenyx Delancey's name written all over it. All ten inches of it. I sighed, realizing I was just going to have to grin and bear it.

  For now,
I had work to do.

  I was using the technique I'd read about. The sort some wild animal trainers subscribed to. I would get Phoenyx in line, no matter what it took.

  Ignoring her bad behavior, reward the good.

  Hell, I could think of about fifty ways I'd like to reward her.

  Dang, just like that my mind was back in the gutter.

  But as long as I could stick to the plan, I'd have her eating out of the palm of my hand. She'd been quiet and docile by the end of the meal, eating what I told her to, sitting up straight, thanking the waitress.

  I was proud of what we'd accomplished already.

  I was more ready to take her on in the arena. I couldn't let myself think of anything else past that. The way the sun shone on her hair. The way her eyes flashed when I annoyed her. The way her body moved with a feline grace that was the most naturally seductive thing I'd seen in my life…

  I moaned, realizing I was doing it again. I was adding to an almost torturous level of arousal. My mind just seemed to wander back to her, like a chicken coming home to roost. If I developed permanently sore balls or calluses from dealing with it on my own, then so be it. I was a professional, dammit.

  I was not here to seduce a prickly, ornery, sexy as all get out little wildcat.

  It was a long night, with my mind going a million miles an hour. I couldn't stop thinking about her. How she'd pissed me off already. Or how badly I wanted her.

  I was up early in the morning, showered and shaved and on my way to the stables with a thermos of coffee and my lawn chair. Sleep or no sleep, I needed my wits about me.

  I had big plans.

  Today, I was going to tame a wild thing.

  Chapter Six

  Phoenyx

  "Lift! Lift! From your core!"

  I groaned, sweat pricking my upper lip. I was doing basic exercises over and over again, while Clint barked orders at me. Beginner stuff. Kid's stuff, really. He yelled, and I drilled. For hours and hours and hours.

  Just like we had every day this week.

  He was mostly focused on my stomach for some reason. I pulled my belly button towards my spine like he told me to. He seemed to notice if I lost focus on my form for even a second.

  He was that persnickety about the way I held my body.

  The man was cruel. Unrelenting. And starting to get on my nerves.

  I snorted to myself.

  'Starting to get on my nerves' was an understatement.

  He was already there, firmly under my skin. He had been since the moment I laid eyes on him. Or rather, since the first time I caught him laying eyes on me.

  Clint was leaned casually against the fence, just as nonchalantly gorgeous as the first day I met him. But he was not in the sun. No, that particular hell was reserved just for me. The barn had that entire side of the paddock in cool, blissful shade. In fact, he had an ice cold drink in his hand. And a lawn chair a few feet back.

  Sometimes, he sat in it to do his shouting, looking like he was at a tailgating party.

  Mostly though, he shouted instructions and criticisms from the fence. Every now and then though, he said 'good form' or 'that's it, keep going' or 'good girl', which should have made me angry. It did the first time. But it also made me walk tall for hours after.

  I didn't need his damn approval! I knew that. But it didn't change the fact that I was starting to want it.

  Crave it, really.

  He looked utterly relaxed as my butt chaffed against the saddle. I wasn't used to staying in the seat for this long. I was a trick rider dammit.

  I wanted to swoop and soar! I wanted to move!

  "Okay Red, take five."

  Red! The most unoriginal nickname ever! I hated all of his terms of endearment. Along with 'Darlin' and 'Hellcat'. I slid off Apollo, leading him over to a stablehand. Clint offered me a drink of water, his gorgeous blue eyes crinkling as he looked me over.

  I took the water, tipping back my head to gulp it down. I was thirsty as hell. But the truth was I didn't mind being looked over like horsemeat. Not anymore. Not when it was Clint doing the looking.

  Truth be told, I'd done quite a bit of looking him over too, these past few weeks. He looked like an old school movie star, not a cowboy. But he was the real deal.

  Tall, handsome, and too rough around the edges for Hollywood. I shivered, remembering how his hands felt when he was correcting my form. Big, warm, and calloused. Strong.

  The way a man's hands should be.

  I spent a few nights wondering how they'd feel against my skin. Particularly, my more sensitive places. Of course, I had no idea how a man's hands felt. Or anything else.

  I'd never had the time or inclination to let anyone tumble me. No inclination until I met him. It irked me that the first man I felt any interest in, only wanted the prize money JJ had promised him if I placed top three in Nationals.

  Yep, I wanted Clint McRae. Not that I'd ever tell him that. He'd probably laugh and tell me to leave my schoolgirl crush in the stables.

  Beep beep beep.

  I looked around.

  "Is that my phone?"

  Clint had a strict rule about my phone. First thing in the morning, he'd take it. He'd let me have it at lunch and that was it until the end of the day. It was funny how I didn't miss it after the first week. I'd even forgotten to ask for it back a couple times.

  "Damn thing keeps beeping. I don't know why you don't leave it at home—“

  I blanched, realizing I had people coming. People with cameras. I touched my cheek, knowing I was flushed red and splotchy.

  The man had me so tied up in knots I'd forgotten a professional obligation. I shook my head. It was a good thing I'd taken to shaving and primping a bit more in the mornings!

  "Oh lord— I forgot! My sponsors are coming!”

  He grabbed my arm as I ran for the facilities.

  "Where are you going, hellcat?"

  "I need to freshen up."

  "Fine."

  "Fine!"

  I ran to my car to grab my bag. Thankfully, I'd stashed the outfit they wanted me to wear in the back last week. My sponsors liked me to do little publicity stunts and photo shoots all the time.

  This time, it was a clothing line.

  Except, I wasn't going to be wearing much clothing. My face heated up at the thought of Clint seeing me like that. But then I tilted my head to the side. Maybe… this wasn’t an entirely bad thing, after all.

  When I came out, they were already there. Clint was watching them set up with a frown. And then he saw me.

  My stomach did a little back flip when I saw the look on his face.

  He went from shock, to looking like he was drooling in about a heartbeat. The man's mouth was open. His eyes blazed fire across the stable yard.

  I ignored him, savoring the look of pure male appreciation on his face. I put a little extra strut in my step as I walked across the yard. Of course, by the time I got closer he was frowning again.

  I sighed. At least he looked handsome with a frown. He looked handsome no matter what he did. He did smile now and then. I wondered if I'd ever see him smile in real happiness, instead of looking like a damn shark about to eat a mackerel.

  "What the hell are you wearing?"

  I looked down at myself and back up at him.

  "A bikini, silly."

  "You are not getting on that horse in that getup."

  I cocked my head, smiling at him.

  "You're right, I’m not. I'm going to wash the horse."

  His jaw dropped. Literally dropped. Clint looked as shocked as a Sunday School teacher in a brothel. Good. The blasted man was too calm by half. I tossed my hair as I walked away. I realized how much I liked making him uncomfortable.

  “No time for that,” he protested. “We have to train."

  I shook my head.

  "No Clint. Today, for just a few hours, I have to work."

  Chapter Seven

  Clint

  Turns out my Grannie was right. There
was a hell, after all. And I was in it.

  The damned woman was going to turn me to stone, or more accurately, melted hot lava. Lord knows, certain parts of me were already there hard as a rock. It was bad enough that I had to watch her bouncing around on a horse all day, wondering what she looked like in the altogether. But now— by God— now I didn't have to wonder anymore.

  The woman was wearing a Goddamn itsy-bitsy teeny weeny bikini on that insane body of hers. Her toned flesh, supple skin and glorious curves made me feel like I was about to catch fire. I didn't know where to look. I tried to keep my eyes on her boots, but they kept traveling up those long toned legs of hers…

  To make it even worse, the damn bikini was red.

  It was like waving a red flag at a bull. An extremely frustrated bull who'd had just about enough temptation. This was more than I could take.

  Course, I couldn't exactly run off and jump in a cold shower either. I was stuck here, waiting to resume training for the rest of the afternoon.

  I sat there in my lawn chair, trying not to stare at the show. Lord knows every man in the entire stable was outside, tongues hanging out. I didn't blame them, but I hoped I didn't look quite so foolish.

  Phoenyx looked like pornography in motion. Worse. She was a piece of literal art. That girl’s picture deserved to be hanging in a museum. I tried closing my eyes but the image was branded there, all tawny skin and lush curves.

  I literally could not shake it.

  I couldn’t shake her.

  I moaned, adjusting myself. The woman was going to kill me. But I had a strange feeling I'd be smiling if she did.

  Smiling, with a big ole hard on to boot.

  She was chatting with the marketing people. Apparently, they liked to do guerrilla style shoots a couple times a month for their social media and other viral marketing.

  Having an authentic cowgirl in a bikini was a pretty brilliant idea actually. Especially one that looked like Phoenyx.