by Penny Lam
“I’m hiding from the police, too. I did something, Raúl, when I was at Tulane. Something bad. I don’t know if I regret it or not. I just know that I can’t ever undo it. So I won’t call the police. I really want to stay here.”
“That sounds super sketchy, Maple.” He was teasing, but there was relief threaded through his voice. “Was it about a guy?”
“Yeah. It was a bad relationship.”
“Did he hurt you?” She sensed that Raúl was getting worked up. Ready to climb on a white horse and be her knight or something.
“Sure, but for the most part, I asked him to.” She looked at her feet. The flecks of dirt on her boots were standard issue now. The leather was filthy and broken in.
“No one deserves to be hurt, Belleza.”
Her hand reached out to pat his shoulder. “Some people do.”
“Are you okay now?”
Was she? Maple didn’t think so. She shook her head, and he didn’t press her. Around them the stable was a capsule. Somehow, amidst the hay and soft snorts and manure, time seemed to slow inside. Hearts seemed more open, vulnerable. Secrets felt fluid, like an egg in your hand threatening to slip through the cracks between fingers.
“Let’s get Bane’s stall mucked, okay?” Raúl started to stand.
She wasn’t ready, not yet. Not when the connection had been renewed between Raúl and her. “Why does he do it? Did his father?”
Raúl sighed heavily, slumping back down. “I’m not going to be his voice, Belleza. I owe J.B. too much. You’re like a dog with a bone when it comes to him. If you aren’t careful, you’re going to bite off something too sharp to swallow.”
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”
They got up and set to work. Bane was coming out more willingly. Maple had never forgotten the fear in Raúl’s eyes. The sheer, raw panic and hate that Bane left in J.B.. But the horse hadn’t forgotten her, either. So while she couldn’t let him free the way she knew he should be, he behaved better for her nonetheless.
She even snuck a light pat on his flank as she brushed by into his stall.
When they were finished, it was dinner time. Maple’s stomach was grumbling. Dinners had been awkward, with no one speaking while she was in the room. She’d been picking at her food for days, darting out before she was full because she couldn’t bear the atmosphere in Mariela’s kitchen.
But Raúl walked with her, and it bolstered her.
Just before they reached the house, he grabbed her wrist and stopped her. Maple grew scared again, for a different reason. What if Raúl thought this new olive branch was an invitation to renew his interest?
“Don’t fall in love with him, Belleza.”
Not what she was expecting.
Raúl wasn’t finished, though. “I said I wouldn’t speak for him, and that’s true. But if you’re here, really here for good, you deserve some more. You trusted me with your secret, too. J.B.’s business isn’t for pleasure. It’s the way he copes.”
“Copes?”
“With Rachel’s death.”
Rachel. No one had spoken her name before, but Maple knew her. The dead wife. J.B.’s dead wife. Having a name made Rachel more real.
“How does--”
He stopped her. “For God’s sake! He’s letting you stay after everything. Can you just give him some privacy? He won’t fall in love with you, Maple!”
It hurt like a slap in the face. It was that obvious, wasn’t it? Not only did she scare everyone, shaking up their lives and risking their jobs-- but now she knew they saw the sick, devoted puppy she was.
“I know,” she said, resentful. She shouldn’t, but she lashed out. “But that doesn’t change how I feel about him.”
Raúl rubbed his face. “Yeah, I know that now.”
She wouldn’t drop it. “So I can’t be with you, either. Besides, he’s forbidden it.”
“Oh, I know.” His words were bitter. “J.B. filled me in on that new policy. ‘Dating is forbidden between employees of Deyton Ranch,’ or some shit like that.”
It startled her that J.B. had gone so far as to warn Raúl, too. “I guess it’s for the best,” she said, not believing a word of it. J.B. was always present in her thoughts, even now. Never touch me again.
“Yeah. Middle of nowhere. The only girl who isn’t related to me. J.B.’s determined we’re all as lonely and miserable as he is.” Raúl stalked away, not willing to talk about could’ves, should’ves, and would’ves.
Maple followed.
If Raúl was right, then J.B. had succeeded. She was miserable.
And even after finding forgiveness in Raúl, she was desperately lonely.
Chapter Nineteen
The hot water sluiced down her skin, steadily streaming between her breasts and trailing from her fingers.
Dinner had been good for the first time since she’d discovered the human stable. It had started rough, Mariela handing her the plate of food silently. It was a green stew, filled with succulent pork and a spicy tomatillo sauce. Fragrant cinnamon and cumin were hinted in the steam. It smothered a scoop of white rice. Filling, decadent. Comfort food.
When Raúl sat with Maple, his sister had scowled. She’d hissed at him in Spanish. They bickered, and Maple’s appetite had threatened to turn to nausea. Just as she’d decided to exit, leaving her food untouched, the siblings had come to an agreement.
“Eat up,” Mariela had said grudgingly. “You’ve been getting too skinny again. I thought my food must not be so good if such a skinny girl is leaving so much on her plate every night.
Maple had tried a burning, delicious spoonful. The tartness from the tomatillos melded with the spicy kick of peppers and the buttery pork. Her stomach had growled loud enough to crack Raúl up. “No, no, Mariela! You’re food is incredible.” Maple swallowed and shoved another bite in. “I should say sorry.”
“No need,” Mariela stopped her. “It’s done. Do you want bread?”
Maple had nodded, and they ate together, chatting and falling into old comfort.
Now she was showering. The renewed friendships with Raúl and Mariela were good, and she was thankful for them. But Maple was discovering how much she’d been relying on the sheer, massive depression and loneliness to stave off her desires.
The ease on her heart opened her to think about things better left locked away.
The soap turned over and over in her hands, sliding and slicking her palms with bubbles. Her hands began to travel over her body as she thought about the stable. About the women.
Maple wondered what it would be like to be trained as a pony. To be trained by J.B.. She pictured him standing in jeans and nothing else, riding crop in hand. In her mind, she stood before him, naked. Her chest was out. Around her neck was a collar. Between her teeth, a bit pressed her tongue down. Around her face was a bridle.
Deep in her ass was the plug, a luxurious tail hanging between her legs. She wanted to be beautiful for him. She wanted to prance for him. She wanted to hear him cluck and command her, driving her to perfection.
Maple wanted the sting of the crop and J.B.’s harsh demands.
Her fingers found her cleft in the shower, soaping between her legs.
She wished she knew more of what he did. He hadn’t said yes, entirely, to her helping him train the women. Maple wasn’t sure she wanted to help. But it meant being near him, even if she could never touch him. It meant seeing him do the things she longed for him to do to her.
Her clit began to swell from her expert touch. Arousal began to seep and coat her, mixing with the soap. Slick and sensitive. Exploring her folds, Maple shut her eyes.
It was the beginning of the cycle. She knew it too well, but she couldn’t stop touching herself. Couldn’t keep the thoughts of J.B. at bay.
Lust stuck to her skin like droplets. She dipped her fingers inside, stroking her silken channel.
She’d picture him hurting her. Remember the hard feel of his cock inside of her. Try to recapture the feelings of his hand in
her hair, yanking painfully.
Maple would fantasize. She’d come. And she’d need more.
Having tasted him once, she could only pray that these stolen moments in her shower and her bedroom would be enough.
It never would.
A knock interrupted her fingers’ frantic work. Stumbling from the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself.
Maple rushed to the door, almost slipping, leaving puddled footsteps across the floor. Tightening her grip on the cotton towel, she opened her door a fraction and poked her head out.
He stood there in all his dark, sinful glory. Tight worker’s jeans. Dirt-covered shirt, with two buttons undone at the top, hinting at the strong chest she knew lay beneath.
“What the hell are you doing?” His blue and green eyes swept down at her wet hair, hanging and dripping, to the hints of towel and skin she couldn’t hide completely behind the door.
“Um, getting ready for bed?”
He grinned. “Back to makin’ questions out of statements, Maple?”
Her pulse fluttered. “I guess so?”
A shadow flitted across his gaze. “Get dressed,” he ordered.
“Why?”
“You aren’t done working yet. Meet me in the stable.”
“Which one?”
His eyes narrowed. “You know which one.”
He was gone before she recovered, leaving her standing holding a sodden towel and soaking the floor.
Epilogue
The lights shone bright as she crossed to the stable. The rest of the ranch slept. Her eyes itched, her body demanding sleep.
Maple’s mind, though, was racing with her pulse.
Approaching the door, she took a deep breath. It was unlocked, the large bolt hanging open. From inside she heard shuffling.
Once, Maple had let a man walk all over her and begged for it. He’d torn her apart, putting her back together in a shape which suited him. Then he’d thrown her to the wolves and left her.
It had taken time, care, and privacy to glue herself back into something that resembled a girl. She'd layered herself, putting the darkest, dirtiest parts of her behind a wall, trying to keep it locked away.
She'd locked it away and run, thinking that enough distance and solitude would keep her safe.
She'd been wrong.
Behind the door was something black and unknown. In there lurked J.B., with his dark curls and mismatched eyes, haunted by his dead wife. The man had unglued Maple. He’d bashed in the wall that shielded her. He’d built a pyre of her dark desires, the ones better left buried, and set it ablaze.
The only thing that could save her was stability. A firm hand and the lick of discipline. In the greatest twist, she stood in front of a stable that held the key to everything but stability. How could two words so closely related be so drastically at war in her?
She rested her hand on the knob. With great trepidation, Maple opened the door.
Thanks for reading! A cliffhanger? Dang it, I know! Don’t worry, the pre-orders are already up-- you’ll be finishing this story in no time!
Find Tethered here!
"Look, but don't touch."
Ornate stables. The smell of hay and sweat. The lush green of the show grounds. Maple Parsons finds the allure of the Pony Bazaar overwhelming and supremely enticing. "Bio-Equine Showcasing," as the sponsors put it.
And sales. Because she's here with J.B. to sell the pony girls J.B. trained. The prospect terrifies her as much as it thrills her. Not to mention she's here, alone with J.B. Their attraction keeps them tethered together even as events try and keep them apart.
Given enough force, though, even the strongest ties can be snapped. When Maple's dark past comes back to haunt her, J.B. might be able to save her, but she's not sure she can save what they have together.
Others might be looking for a way to break free, but Maple's desperate to find a way to bind herself to J.B. She wants to be tied down. She's willing to sacrifice it all for a chance to be his.
Find Saddled here!
Her mouth aches from the bit. The leather harness cuts into her skin. A lick--or ten-- from the crop.
Maple Parsons loves every second of it. Because despite the odds, J.B. has decided to keep and train her. The caveat? He doesn't romance his stock. He's adamant about this. Business and pleasure don't mix, and his stables are all business.
But Maple thinks he's wrong. Both she and J.B. have wounds they're trying to heal and she knows that this is the best, most f!cked up therapy there is. He makes her heart gallop and she's willing to fight for him.
The thing is... she's not the only one. A new face in his stable seems just as set on seducing J.B. The new pony girl is ruthless, and suddenly Maple is wondering if she's made a terrible mistake. Each misstep is earning more than J.B.'s disapproval-- it's unraveling the trust they've built.
It will take learning which rules to follow and which to break for Maple to survive the stable. If she doesn't succeed, a broken heart is the least of her worries.
About the Author
Penny Lam grew up in North Carolina but never fully mastered the accent. Previously she wrote as Penelope L'Amoreaux-- sometimes she needs a little change. She skipped a lot of high school and went to more colleges than Sarah Palin. It took a long time to find something she loved doing enough to stick with it. When she isn't writing, she plays hide and seek with her daughter, attempts to do yoga, and drinks a lot of red wine.
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Books by Penny Lam
10 Rules to Catch a Billionaire
Stabled
Tethered
Saddled
Writing as Penelope L'Amoreaux
Lost in His Woods
Corrupt Practices
Corrupt Policies
Corrupt Persons
The Corrupt Trilogy Box Set
Struck Down (dark romance)
Stolen Goods (sequel to Struck Down)
"Please, Maestro" (an erotic short story)
"Breaking Me In" The Complete collection (a paranormal novella)
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