“I’m glad you think so,” Cassie said, dismounting, “since you’re entrusting the four horses you brought out here into my care. I’d like to think that’s about more than friendship. God knows I’ve got the time. You know we lost five out of eight horses to other trainers when I was in Wyoming. Owners don’t have much patience, particularly with a female trainer.”
“I’ve got a lot of patience,” said Clint, huskily, “especially with one particular female trainer.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” she quipped, placing her palms on his chest, fixing her eyes on his. “Maybe we should do something special tonight. Go to a nice restaurant. Then back to your hotel and see what develops.” Her eyes snapped with invitation. “Abstaining from making love was probably not a very good idea on my part.”
“Ms. Trainer, I accept whatever you have in mind. The race is in your hands. Very capable hands, I might add,” he whispered, pulling her to him and rubbing his face through her hair. Damn, he loved her scent.
- o -
Later that evening, Cassie lay nude on the bed in Clint’s room at the Palmer House, basking in the afterglow of raw lovemaking. They’d waited so long the buildup had nearly overwhelmed both of them. As soon as they’d entered the room, they’d attacked each other like two animals in heat. An inner smile warmed her body. They’d fucked...really fucked, hard and fast.
After catching their breath, she knew they’d be more sensuous, in some ways more intimate, and much more scary. Now that they’d worked off the tension from waiting, from denying themselves, he’d make love to her.
She inhaled slowly and cast her gaze about the luxurious space. A perfect setting for lovemaking. The decor was exquisite; she wasn’t accustomed to such luxury. She could hardly remember their dinner. It had been laden with erotic suggestion from the leg of lamb to the cherry tart. Both of them played the game and played it very well. Most precious was the adoration in her lover’s eyes when he visually caressed every inch of her, anticipating that moment when he’d strip her and make her his again.
Lazily, she ran her fingers through his thick black hair as he leisurely explored her body with his. She loved the feel of his skin pressed against hers, that simple touch, so filled with promise.
“You have the most sensitive nipples,” Clint murmured. He caressed first one taut nipple and then the other.
“Um,” she breathed, thrilling at his caress, anticipating more. She arched her back, encouraging him to continue.
Extending a finger, he pressed one hardened nodule inward and smiled as it popped immediately back at him.
She shivered as his finger arched toward the other nipple.
“I love the way they bounce back, like they’ve a mind of their own. Pink on white. One of my favorite color combinations.” Clint covered one breast with the palm of his hand while tenderly licking the underside of the other.
“They’re not the largest tits,” she said, her voice shaking, “but they sure do love to be played with.”
“And I love playing with them. Damn, if those nips get any longer...”
Cassie flexed her lower abs as a stirring of latent energy began deep within her loins. She didn’t know how her breasts could be so directly connected to her pussy, but there was no doubt about the connection. And Clint had found it.
Back and forth he went, delicately tongue-washing first one breast and then the other. Gently, he rolled a nipple between thumb and forefinger. Cassie again scrunched upward, seeking more attention for each breast. She watched him place a thumb on one rosy button and a pinky on the other. Lazily, he rotated each first clockwise and then counterclockwise. She moaned. The erotic torture sent more chills to her loins.
She rolled away, regaining ownership of her breasts. His tongue grazed her spine. She waited for the thunder within her body to complete its coursing from head to foot, from tits to loins, from eyes to fingertips. Clint’s lips against her back assured her that he’d patiently await her return. There was no hurry. Conversely, the strong arousal pressing against her thigh was less calm, more urgent.
“That was amazing,” she whispered, not sure he’d hear her.
“I’ve never been with a woman who orgasms when only playing with her breasts. You’re amazing.”
“Hmm. Like I said, my tits may not be huge, but they are incredibly sensitive. And,” she guided his hand to her vulva, “they are directly wired to my pussy.”
“Damn, woman, you’re sopping wet.”
She chuckled. “What did you expect, Einstein? First, you fuck me senseless, then you tease my nipples, making me scale a virtual wall of sensations. I hope you don’t think we’re done for the night.”
“That thought never crossed my mind.”
Turning in his arms to face him, she felt as if her soul opened for him. She couldn’t foresee the future, but at least in the moment, this was right. There was no doubt about that. Cassie kissed her lover’s throat. She moved lower, flicking her tongue at each of his nipples until they tightened, reflecting the same kind of intensity hers had.
Straddling him, she took her time. She teased him by playing with her hair. Long wavy strands provided a see through veil for her nipples. Like an artist, she created a sensual picture. His appreciation for her display was evident in his smile and in his erection pressing against her bottom.
Neither partner hurried. This might be their last time together for quite a while. His eyes had a dreamy allure to them. Cassie tried to match his patience, but she was afraid if they put off the inevitable much longer, she would come unglued.
“You,” Cassie chided, “like a woman to lose control don’t you?”
“Of course, don’t you like it?”
“More than I could ever say. It’s just that I’m not sure you should take so much pleasure in my pleasure,” she responded, pursing her lips. Her finger traced invisible lines from each nipple thorough his navel to a path of crinkling sable hair leading to the object of her keen interest.
Cassie rose to her knees and with one hand guided him to her entrance. Bit by bit, she sank down on his length. At last she had him fully encased in her heat. “You like?”
He nodded. “Oh, yeah. You’re one hot woman. This could never become routine.”
As if astride her favorite horse, she rode him, comfortable with her seat. She maintained a steady pace. Clint didn’t move a muscle, letting her control their mating. She pulled on her nipples and maintained a steady tempo.
Clint grew taut beneath her. His groans fueled her concentration. She bore down with complete focus.
“Oh, god,” he groaned. “Don’t stop. Whatever you do.”
“No chance of that, cowboy.” She slowed her pace. “Got you right where I want you.”
“Jesus, woman. Don’t slow, either.” He began to buck beneath her.
“And I thought you were so patient.” She rose as high as she could without losing him and dropped down, slapping her bottom against his thighs, driving him deeper into her interior.
“Yes, that’s it,” Clint howled. “I’m coming.”
In gleeful triumph Cassie rode on as he filled her until she was overtaken by her own pulsing convulsions. Boneless, without muscle, with no one in control, Cassie collapsed against his torso.
Sated, filled, Cassie basked in the afterglow of shared heat. Their comingled juices oozed from her while she lay cradled in his arms. Could this be love? Her eyes popped wide open. Fortunately, his were closed and did not witness the fright that must have been evident in hers.
She stayed the night.
Forgoing much sleep, they’d made love twice more during the night and wee early morning hours. Now they tarried over a late breakfast at O’Hare Field waiting for Clint’s flight. Cassie had lost her appetite somewhere between the bed and O’Hare. What to do with him? He wanted more of a road map than she had available. How far would he push her? How long would he wait?
“So where do we go from here?” Clint asked.
Cassie
averted her eyes. “I wish I knew.”
“You got to know, woman, my feelings run deep for you. It’s not just great sex.”
“It is pretty good, isn’t it?”
“Pretty good? Bullshit, you’ve never been so well loved, and neither have I. Let’s stop kidding ourselves about that.”
Cassie felt her face go pale. Picking up a fork, she murmured, “I know. But there’s more to a long term relationship than even sensational sex.”
He nodded, but said nothing, keeping his gaze on her face.
Damn, he wasn’t going to give her any slack. “I have so many unknowns—I can’t predict how they’ll all fit together.” She watched carefully for his reaction. “I’m not sure I’m ready to be with just one man. I don’t know what I want to do with my career. I’ve got my dad to worry about. There’s Hope.” Could she say what she was most frightened of? She closed her eyes and opened them quickly. “I don’t know if I can be an instant mother.”
Clint covered her hand with his, a serious expression on his face. “Thanks for letting me know all that. You’re right, there’s a lot to work through. Just so you know, I think you’d be a great mother.”
He paused. “It’s like putting a puzzle together. We know how some of the pieces will fit. Others will fall into place as we go. The question is, are we willing to take the puzzle off the shelf and work at it?”
Cassie studied the placemat, trying to calm her nerves. She couldn’t give him all he desired, but she sure wasn’t ready to let him go. At least not yet.
Meeting Clint’s gaze, she said, more calmly than she thought possible, “Okay. I’ll agree for us to open the puzzle box together and see what we can build. To explore. But if either of us wants to set the puzzle aside and go our separate ways, then we need to say so up front, directly, with integrity. And no pressure. I don’t want to get hurt again.”
Clint’s features softened for the first time since they’d sat down. “I accept those ground rules. I don’t want anybody in all of this to be hurt. We both know there are more people involved in this than the two of us. I’ll be in touch with you daily, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.
Checking his watch, Clint frowned. “I hate to do it, but I’ve got a plane to catch. I’m going to miss you. Hope all goes well with the filly.”
“Me, too.” Cassie gave him a half smile. “And I’ll miss you very much, Mr. Travers. Having decided to peek at the puzzle, I don’t want you to take the box and go home with it.”
He chuckled, rubbing his palms together thoughtfully. “I think we both have access to the puzzle pieces, together or alone.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
A heavy mist hung over the mile long oval. Cassie could see the exercise rider working Clint’s four year old gelding when they were on the near side of the track, but when they rounded the clubhouse turn and headed into the backstretch, horse and rider disappeared into the thick fog. Even then she could hear the rider clucking to his mount.
Normally such a gray morning would have taken her on a mystical journey back to Ireland. She’d been there only once as a small girl, with her aunt, but she would never forget the blending of slate gray and emerald green on those thick, soggy mornings. But not this day. Cassie sighed, seemingly weighed down by the fog and her troubles.
When Cassie left the farm at 4:30 a.m., Hope looked as fit as ever. Her race was only three days off. Cassie worried whether she could really prepare her well enough at the farm. Certainly other trainers did the same with flighty horses, but this would be something new for Hope.
Could she protect the horse from whoever wanted to do her harm? Could she figure out who was at the bottom of all of this?
Cassie took a deep breath. Hope was only part of her worry. What about him? Could she really open herself up to that kind of potential pain? She felt a knot develop in her stomach—she wasn’t ready to lose him.
But two instant kids? How could she ever be a caring mother? She’d never had one. And what else would he ask of her—what about her career? Could she give up her life? Cassie shook her head. “That’s got to be too melodramatic,” she muttered. “My life would change; it wouldn’t be over.”
Hell, he might change his mind and not even come back. All she had to offer him was a set of insurmountable problems.
Hearing footsteps, Cassie glanced over her shoulder to see Ed Harrington striding toward her. His jaw was set firmly and determination shone in his eyes. Now what?
“Well, what a surprise. You’re alone. Did your cowboy sleep in?”
Reining in her temper, she responded evenly, “No, he had to return to Utah.”
“So when the going gets tough, he runs back to the ranch.”
“Clint has other responsibilities,” Cassie said, her back stiffening.
“I’ll just bet he has,” Harrington said, as if he knew a secret.
She glared at the man a long moment and then demanded, “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged innocently. She knew he mocked her.
“What Clint Travers does or what I do is none of your business. I don’t know why you should care one way or the other.”
“No need to get bent out of shape,” Harrington countered softly. “I’m just not sure I trust the guy.”
“And who asked you?” The nerve of him. She was getting very tired of men looking out for her welfare.
“Did you ever have the horse checked by a vet? And I do care about what happens to you, whether you think so or not.” Harrington leaned against the rail. Staring into the mist, he asked quietly, “Are you certain it’s not Travers who’s drugging your horse?”
His words hung like heavy blankets, suffocating the air between them.
Cassie stood flabbergasted; her mouth fell open. At last she stammered, “You’ve got to be kidding. He’s never even been around when Hope had a bad race.”
“Doesn’t have to be. He’s got money doesn’t he?”
She nodded.
“Anybody with money can buy a guy to drug a horse or throw a race.”
“Clint wouldn’t do that!” she said. “He likes the horse. He doesn’t have horses running against her here. There would be no reason.”
She was annoyed that her own voice had faltered when uttering that last statement.
“Listen to yourself,” Harrington said. “No reason? Humph, he wants you. That’s reason enough. Without a successful contender, you’d be out of the horse training business in a minute. And our cowboy could ride in here and take away his damsel in distress without a lot of fuss and bother.”
“Got it all figured out, don’t you?” Cassie shoved away from the rail fence. “Well, I’m not buying it. It’s too far fetched.”
Ed Harrington didn’t move. He just glowered into the rising fog.
“It could just as easily be you,” Cassie said, going on the offensive. “You at least have horses running against me. You might think you have a better chance with me if Hope isn’t a contender and if the blame can be cast on Clint.”
Ed turned and faced her. “Fine,” he said in a low, thick voice, “think what you want. For me, I don’t trust a guy who runs out on a woman when she’s in trouble.”
Cassie placed a hand cautiously on his arm. “Ed, I am moved that you’re trying to help. But I think you’re absolutely wrong.”
Letting out a deep breath, the tall trainer growled, “Okay, have it your way. Just don’t forget what I said. You may not know who you can trust. I’ll be watching, just in case.”
Cassie heard Ed’s last muffled words as he walked briskly away. She turned back to watch the first rays of sunshine filter through the mist, making thousands of shiny pinwheels out of the grayness. Try as she might, she could not prevent tears from sliding down her cheeks. Damn, she hated crying.
It couldn’t be possible—what Harrington had suggested. Clint wouldn’t do anything to deliberately hurt her or her horse. No way. She respected his loyalty to Lester and Samantha. If he had co
mmitted not to be away from them for more than a week or two at a time, then he needed to honor that commitment.
Was she only thinking with her heart? Cassie tried to massage the numbness from her brain. Was it possible he’d become so obsessed with her he’d do something so deceitful as drugging a horse?
She paused, trembling. Was Harrington simply trying to sow seeds of doubt and direct attention away from his own actions? Either way, she didn’t like having to be suspicious about acquaintances, friends, and especially, her lover.
Who to trust? Even her dad had said it was just him and her. Cassie scuffed her foot in the dirt. Playing detective was not her idea of fun.
Damn, she wished Clint had stayed. But she was a big girl, competent and strong. She could do this. How could she stand up to six-foot-plus delinquents without batting an eye, and yet have her confidence blown away in the wind when it came to Clint Travers?
Travers. She cringed. What was really eating at her? Was it that emotion she didn’t want to name? There was a difference between needing some good loving and needing love. Wasn’t there?
- o -
“Louie.”
“Yeah.”
“Slow that filly down. Make sure she doesn’t win.”
“Again?”
“You heard me. Do it.”
Louie glared at the phone and its annoying dial tone.
- o -
It was race day, again. Cassie’s stomach churned like a clothes dryer. She’d done everything just as she and Clint and her father had agreed to do.
She’d trailered the filly onto the track grounds two hours ahead of the race. Hope had never been out of her sight. No one had gotten close enough to touch the horse or her food. Of course, that had changed some in the paddock area.
Her assistant helped saddle the filly. And the paddock judge had to hold the horse’s mouth open to read the tattoo on the inside of her lower lip, making sure it was the horse who’d been entered to run. And now she watched the jockey guide the horse onto the track, where he was met by an outrider.
Cassie's Hope (Riders Up) Page 13
