by Penny Lam
It took a second to find her voice, to try and erase the tears of envy that were creeping into her eyes and throat. “Do you fuck them?”
If he answered ‘yes,’ Maple wasn’t sure what she’d do. What that would mean for her. When he’d taken her in the barn, finally letting her relinquish control to him, it had been world shattering for Maple. She knew, too, that it was only a hint of what he was capable of. But it had felt raw, and desperate, and real for her.
If he answered ‘yes,’ then those feelings would be stripped from her.
“No, I don’t fuck my clients,” he spat, angry. “Their new owners might, but this training is purely to prepare them to be sold.”
Relief flowed through her. The envy was still there, but the bitter, fearful tang of it lessoned.
“Screw this,” he hissed. “This couldn’t have come at a worse time. I’m calling the cops. I’m sure I can pay them enough to keep quiet. But I’ll call them to ease your conscience, and then I’m having them escort you off of my fucking property.” He pulled out a cell phone.
Her chest squeezed. “No!”
In Maple’s mind, tires thumped. Bump-bump. Bump-bump. She felt the inertia in her stomach of the cab of her truck dropping as she drove over that man. That’s how she’d ended up here. Hiding from New Orleans. It wasn’t just trying to outrun the guilt of what she’d done. There was also the very real need to outrun the police.
If they came here, if they figured anything about her--
“No!” She shouted more vehemently. J.B. stilled, fingers posed above the screen. “No,” she said more softly. “You don’t need to call the police. You don’t need to write a check.”
“What do I need to do?” He was angry. She couldn’t blame him.
But this was her last shot to stay in a place she’d begun to think of as home. With a man her heart couldn’t keep out. “Let me help. Let me help you,” she pleaded.
Chapter Seventeen
“No.”
Her stomach plummeted. “Please. You said you had a show coming up. Teach me. Let me help. Let me stay and work in the stables, too. Just don’t make me leave.”
A muscle in J.B.’s jaw twitched. He was glaring at her. He said nothing.
Nothing is better than a ‘no.’
She went to Leslie and tentatively stroked the woman’s hair. She stamped her foot once, angry, but allowed it. Maple’s fingers combed through, finding the knots that remained in the hair. It was also in need of conditioner. She pulled a knot out, gently.
“See? This is something I can help with. You might be able to train them, but I can dress them for show better than you.”
Leslie, perhaps hearing that Maple was offering to make her a better sale, calmed beneath her hands. She even startled Maple by turning a cheek into Maple’s palm, nuzzling.
Something was changing in Maple. Something she didn’t understand. It was strange to be touching another woman in such an intimate way. Maple always imagined herself in the submissive’s position. Hell, she still didn’t truly understand what that meant-- she knew enough now to know that Tony had warped its definition.
This position of caring for, and maintaining, someone else, was intriguing. Sure, she still wrestled with envy. She wanted to see J.B. training, yet she knew in the end that watching from the sidelines wouldn’t be enough. In this moment, though, with J.B. so tense and so still as he stared at her, she knew she was in danger of losing him forever.
Of losing Bonnie and the other horses.
Losing this ranch, and Raúl and Tim and Jones. Mariela. This place where she managed to feel almost safe. So she’d do anything to stay. Even swallow her own desire and needs and watch as J.B. touched, punished, and trained other women. She’d do anything to stay.
Pathetic, really.
But Maple was past caring.
Her hand smoothed down Leslie’s spine. The woman’s flesh was warm beneath her palm and soft. Softer than Maple could have imagined. The woman’s curves were supple, pliant. To her great surprise, Maple found them enticing. Her touch grew bolder, petting the bare hip.
In an uncharacteristic move, she met J.B.’s stare head on. She challenged him. She was seeking something, anything in his blue and green eyes that hinted at what he was feeling.
They were raging, his mouth pulled tight.
“We’ll discuss this in my office,” J.B. gritted out, just before Maple’s hand moved to graze Leslie’s ass.
It wasn’t a win.
But it wasn’t a loss, either.
Maple tucked her feet under her on the couch in J.B.’s office. Away from the stable, away from Leslie and all the other beautiful women, the boldness she’d felt had evaporated. Now it was just J.B. and her, and she wanted to disappear into herself.
He sat across from her. His hands were steepled, fingers crossed at the bridge of his nose.
“I don’t know what to fucking say,” he breathed. “All I wanted was someone to care for the horses in my stable. Instead I get… you.”
She bit her lip, chewing it until she tasted copper. The room felt larger. The dark paint ominous. “Is that a bad thing?” It was barely a whisper. She didn’t trust herself to speak more.
“I don’t know.” He leaned back, taking his hat off and setting it next to him. The dark curls of his hair tumbled and curled around his ears and neck. The hint of boyish charm was in stark contrast to the sinfully harsh, attractive lines on his face. The knife that was his jawline. “First the rattlesnake, then Reece, and now this. What in God’s name possessed you to go in there? You’d been fired! You knew it was off limits!”
Pulling her cardigan tighter around her, she looked at the floor. “Reece left me a note. He told me to.”
“Damn him.” J.B. stood and began to pace. “He’s toying with you. With me.” It seemed like J.B. was speaking to himself now instead of her. Maple remained silent. “I am not someone to be toyed with,” he growled under his breath. It was a promise, lurid and sure. Maple thought of how she’d touched Leslie. Had he thought she was toying with him then? Hell-- had she been?
For her sake, she hoped not.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I know I messed up. With Reece, and with the women.”
“You sure as shit did. But,” J.B. took a deep breath, “it isn’t entirely your fault. Reece is an instigator, and he doesn’t stop when he’s spotted something he wants.” He looked at her pointedly.
“Is he also a trainer? Or does he buy them?” A gentle shiver ran through Maple as she pictured Reece with one of the women. His cruel smile glinted in her mind.
“No. He paints them.”
The Goya-esque paintings. All of those women, roped up and pained, their bodies tortured by gleeful masters. “And you keep them? As what, mementos?”
“No. More like a portfolio. I send pictures of the paintings to the men who organize the pony shows. It is a premier of my stock. Reece adds a flare to the ponies photos can’t. I pay him to paint the girls, and the paintings help me sell them. I keep the paintings to prove what I can do.”
The gallery started to make more sense to her. The volumes of Reece’s paintings, all cruel and beautiful, small but commanding. And, in tandem, J.B.’s larger paintings. Dark and vengeful, sliced through with pride and joy. What a pair they made.
The suspense was killing her. “Are you going to let me stay? Let me help?”
He stopped his pacing, back to her. “I don’t know. I--” he looked over his shoulder at her, “I want to let you stay. I want to keep you, Maple. You do things to me--” He crossed the room to stand over her. His hands gripped the couch on either side of her shoulders. Leaning in, his face was a fraction away from hers. Maple felt his breath on her cheek. She inhaled deeply, drinking it in. “I want you,” he ground out, and her heart seized, barely functioning. “Here,” he added, an afterthought.
“I want you, too,” she sighed. “To keep me. Here.” She added. The air between them was stretched tight, trying to yank
them together. For the life of her, Maple wasn’t sure why they were resisting anymore. Touching Leslie had made her feel powerful. Maybe even confident enough to--
She closed her eyes and moved closer, her lips brushing his. Jolts of satisfaction motivated her to press hard. His mouth, unyielding, froze in place as she kissed him. He didn’t move. Hesitant, Maple brought her hands to the front of his jeans. She palmed the erection that was hard as a crowbar beneath her palm.
J.B. rocked his hips into the press of her hand once. Maple squeezed. Her body was strung tight, the swell of her breasts pressing against her shirt. Her panties were soaked. “Touch me,” she begged. “Be rough. I want you to hurt me.”
The words didn’t have the effect she’d hoped for. Instead of J.B.’s resolve crumbling, instead of the incoming crush of his body and punishing fuck she’d hoped for, he grabbed her wrists and yanked her hands off him. The squeeze on her wrists hurt so good, and she cried out, spreading her legs, inviting him in, until he threw her hands on her lap and lept away.
“Damn it!” He hissed. “If I keep you here,” he choked out, “it can’t be because of that. Do you understand, Maple?” J.B. turned to her, pinning her. His eyes were tumultuous, lips almost non-existent they were drawn so thin. “We can’t be together. You’re my employee. You’re just a girl, you don’t know what you’re asking for. I’m not a good person.”
“I’m not as innocent as you think I am--”
“I didn’t say you were innocent,” he interrupted her, voice wry. “No, I suspect you are far from it. That doesn’t count in your favor, Maple. Knowing what I could do to you, what you’d let me do to you--” His eyes squeezed shut, and his hard cock was still there, taunting her. She wanted to fall to her knees for him. Worship him with her mouth. Convince him that he was wrong. It was she who didn’t deserve him. But she did deserve every ounce of cruelty and punishment he could mete out and more.
He didn’t give her a chance. “I wish I’d never brought you here. You were so meek on the phone, so in need of command. Direction.” He grabbed his cock then, in front of her, rubbing it harshly. “This happened as you spoke, and I knew it was a bad idea. I asked you here anyway, and now we’re in this mess.”
Every inch of her ached for him. The knowledge that she’d made him hard, that first phone call, was heady. Her own reaction hadn’t been much different. Something about his gravel voice and demanding nature and sealed their fates.
“It doesn’t have to be messy, J.B.”
“Don’t be stupid. It already is.” His face steeled once more, and he released his cock. “You don’t follow rules. You’ve threatened to expose me--”
“J.B., I won’t--”
“You don’t get to talk right now, Maple!” He exploded. “You’ve got Raúl snared, too.” Her stomach clenched, and she felt the blush burst into heated pink on her cheeks. He saw and laughed, harsh and low. “Oh yes, you think I don’t know about that? You’re a dangerous girl, Maple.”
You don’t know the half of it.
“But you’re going to let me stay,” she realized out loud. “You’re going to let me help.”
He nodded. It didn’t feel like a win.
“Get out, now, Maple. You’re staying, but you’d better do everything I fucking say. These rules are concrete. If you break one, even hint at breaking one, we’re done.”
“Of course, J.B.,” she rushed, trying to appease him.
“Do not cross me, Maple. Do not speak to Reece. He’s toxic to girls like you. Do not mess with Raúl. He deserves better than that. You do what I say, but you do not touch me. Ever again.” He bared his teeth, growling the last bit. “What happened between us will never happen again.”
It was a dismissal. Maple ran from the room, tears streaming. She ran through the gallery, down the long hall to her room, never stopping. Inside, she tossed herself on the bed and allowed the sobs to come.
She’d gotten what she asked for: She was staying.
It felt like a gift and a death sentence.
Chapter Eighteen
Maple had finished mucking all of the stalls but Bane’s. She was waiting for Raúl to come and help her with his.
She was numb.
The work felt good. Natural now. The horses were her closest friends, the only beings that didn’t watch her with distrustful eyes. Everyone had heard she’d been fired. They had to know she’d gone into the stable. Now she was still there, and no one was comfortable around her.
It hurt more than she’d anticipated.
Inside Bonnie’s stall, she was taking her time grooming her favorite old horse. The bristles brushed through the greying hide, loosening and freeing the hair that had fallen out. The rough patches of matted hair smoothed out under Maple’s gentle touch. Bonnie’s sides rose and fell as she breathed in a slow, contented way.
“At least I have you,” Maple murmured. She finished up and grabbed a comb, beginning to undo the knots in the coarse mane. It was the best distraction. Bonnie let her work in silence. Horses were easier than humans. You treated them kindly, fairly, and they responded in kind. Their gentle spirits helped ease discontent of the heart.
Bonnie most of all. Maple was connected to her now, and thankful for the company.
“Let’s do this,” Raúl’s voice echoed through the barn. It had lost its easy, friendly tone. Whereas before they’d worked together well, even after the incident with him in the hay, now he felt like a stranger.
Maple set down the comb and kissed Bonnie’s nose.
“Okay.” She came out of the stall and started getting the wheelbarrow and tools she’d need to muck Bane’s stall quickly. Raúl was already getting the lasso ready, avoiding looking at her. He was about to rope the thunderous black stallion when Maple stopped him. “Wait.”
“What?” It was petulant, spat at her in anger.
Her body ached. Her mind was a black pit she needed out of. Maple just needed a break. She sank to the floor, drawing her knees to her chest.
“What are you doing? Let’s just get this shit done.” He meant to be mean, but Raúl just sounded childish. Hurt, even.
“I’m sorry,” she said, hugging her arms around her knees. “I screwed up. You’ve been nothing but sweet to me, and I ruined it.”
The rope was still in his hands. It shook a little. Finally, he threw it to the floor and came to sit next to her. “No, you didn’t ruin it. Not really,” he sighed. “But Belleza, this is my life. And you threatened it when you threatened J.B. It’s hard for me to forgive that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Since you’re already keeping J.B.’s secret for now, I guess one more won’t hurt. Mariela and I, we aren’t exactly here legally.”
Her brow pressed together. “Wait, what?”
He shrugged. “Our parents were bringing us over the border. They’d found a man willing to drive us in his jeep. We were crossing off-road. It was dangerous, the jeep was old. It lost control. It rolled. My parents died. The driver died. Mariela and I… we lived.”
Maple’s own self pity was shoved aside. She’d had no idea. “I’m so sorry, Raúl.” It was all she could think to say.
“It’s okay. I was young, I don’t really remember it. Or them. It was harder on Mariela. She was almost ten. But we were lucky, really. Because the wreck happened on the ranch. J.B.’s father found us and let us live with him. J.B. helped us while he studied to take over the ranch. He let us stay when his dad passed away. He pays us fairly, he treats us well, and he protects us.”
“And in exchange you help him. With… with the other stable.”
“No. No one helps him there. That stable holds his own demons, Belleza. He doesn’t put that on us. But we keep his secret, and he keeps ours. If you had called the police-- well, people around here tend to deport first and ask questions later.”
So many secrets. And she’d almost hurt them all, including herself, when she’d threatened J.B.. No wonder he’d been so upset with her.
“I wasn’t going to call. Not really.”
“Yeah, right.”
“No. Apparently everyone here has secrets. I’ve got one, too. I’m…” was she really going to trust him with this? She shouldn’t. Every part of her was screaming to shut up, to stop before it was too late. Well, almost every part. Because there was a small sliver of herself that needed a friend. One of a non-equine variety. Someone in her corner. Raúl was the safest bet. Besides, he’d shared his secret with her.
It needed to be a half-truth. No one but Bonnie could know the full truth.
