“You look beautiful today. Don’t think I told you.”
I stared into Chester’s eyes and forced a smile. “You’re not too bad either. Love the cowboy hat.”
“Come on,” he said, pulling me into the stable yard. “Let me introduce you to the horses.”
When we stepped into the cool confines of a barn, it took my eyes a moment to adjust to the dim interior. Strange smells rose around me—mingled odors of hay, soil and manure. As I gazed around the barn, stared up at the beams high overhead and at the wooden partitions separating the animals, I realized this was the first time I’d ever seen horses up close.
He took me through to the opposite end of the building, naming horses as we progressed. As we passed, they whinnied and snorted. They seemed pleased by our arrival, anxious to be touched and petted. To my vast surprise I wanted to stop and touch the creatures. Even though my day had been pretty terrible, I could appreciate the beauty of these beasts.
“Have you been riding before? Did you parents ever take you when you were a little girl?” Chester asked. When we reached the far wall, he turned and led me toward the center of the room.
“No.”
“You should do it at least once in your life. I think you’d like it. There’s nothing like riding a horse. Not even riding a motorcycle.”
That he loved horses was more than evident. It wasn’t only the way he spoke of the creatures, but the way he looked at them, the absolute adoration in his eyes as he gazed into the stalls.
We paused in front of a large mare that whinnied and nodded as we moved closer. I was taken by how magnificent she was with her sleek black coat and mane of raven hair hanging over her neck. Her chocolate eyes regarded us with interest.
“Her name’s Roxy,” Chester said, pulling his hat off and dragging his hand through his hair. Once we were close enough, he began giving her long, loving strokes. “She loves to be rubbed.”
He turned to look at me and at that moment he looked so indescribably gorgeous I nearly said, so do I. Instead, I said, “She’s gorgeous.”
He let his hand drop and stepped closer to me. I could smell the good clean scent of him when a stray breeze brushed passed us. His hair was a little disheveled, but I didn’t mind. Instead of appearing messy, the tousled look of it made him seem sexily mussed as though he’d just rolled out of bed, fresh from a long, hot ride in the sack.
“You look enchanted.”
I stiffened. Shit! Was I that obvious?
But I noticed his focus wasn’t on me any more, but on Roxy. I nearly sighed my relief. He meant he could see the horse enchanted me. He hadn’t been referring to himself.
“I am,” I said. “They’re all so beautiful.”
“Wanna take a ride with me?”
“Are you serious?”
“Tell you what,” he said. He walked a few feet away and stuck his hand into a wooden bin. He pulled three wrapped packages from within and tucked two of them into his coat pocket. Coming back he said, “I’ll show you how gentle Roxy is.”
I smiled despite myself. “I don’t know. I don’t think Giselle would like it too much if she saw me riding around on one of her horses.”
Chester rolled his eyes. “They’re not her horses. They belong to Greg. And Greg won’t care. Greg likes you. He thinks you’re pretty.”
He tore into the package he’d kept out and pulled a brownish thing from inside. It wasn’t very large, bigger than a dog treat, but clearly it was a sort of horse snack. When he was standing beside me he said, “A horse biscuit. Give me your hand.”
I asked why even as I was lifting it.
He placed my hand beneath his own, then set the biscuit on the palm of his hand. “Watch.”
When I realized what he was about to do, I snatched my hand away. He offered the biscuit to Roxy and she delicately took it and munched contentedly.
“You try,” he insisted.
“Are you crazy? What if she takes my hand off?”
“Take your hand? She’s gentle as a cub.”
“She doesn’t know me.”
“Okay, watch.” He stepped behind me and took my left hand in his. A shiver ran through me at the contact. His skin was warm, and the press of him against me was enticing. Something in the lower regions of my body began to uncoil and demand recognition. My vaginal lips quivered and my stomach did a flip-flop. He smelled amazing, though I knew he wasn’t wearing any cologne. His musky scent was all-natural and an all man Zest soap meets Old Spice, engulfing me, making me feel a little dizzy.
He placed the second biscuit in my palm, and then brought my hand to Roxy’s mouth. She deftly removed the proffered item and munched.
“See Stella,” he bent low and whispered in my ear. “She’s just a baby, couldn’t hurt a fly.”
Unable to take another moment of this sensual torture, I stepped away from him and began brushing invisible dust from the front of my jacket.
“The river’s just a mile or so past the house. Let’s go for a ride. We came all the way out here. Might as well enjoy the rest of the day. We don’t have to go back to the main house when we leave. Greg’ll understand.”
“You sure this will be okay with Greg?”
He turned, cowboy hat in hand, and gave me a smile. “Of course.”
“All right then, let’s do it.”
He led me to the stall next to Roxy’s. “This is Max,” he said, referring to the horse. “He’s smaller than Roxy but just as gentle. I think you can handle him.”
I was thunderstruck. I didn’t ride. He couldn’t expect me to ride. “I don’t ride.” I backed away from Max. “I can’t ride him.”
He paused, thinking, and then brightened. “You can ride with me.”
I loved that idea, and so hated it even more than the idea of riding alone. Already my hormones were on full alert. I promised myself I wouldn’t have sex today and I refused to go back on my word. Problem was, I didn’t know how successful I’d be if I had to ride a horse with Chester. Just the idea of it had a host of enticing possibilities running through my head. “I’m not sure about that.”
“Come on,” he insisted. “It’ll be fun.
“Maybe we should do this another time.”
“You really want to come back here?”
Okay, so he had a point there. Wild horses couldn’t drag me to this house a second time. So, for the sake of experiencing all life had to offer, I agreed.
I waited while Chester got Roxy ready for a ride and led her outside. After he called me over, I let Chester place my foot in a stirrup and hoist me into the saddle.
There was one thing I quickly realized. From the ground Roxy had seemed large, however, from atop her she was positively massive. I felt like I was sitting on the edge of a rafter twenty feet off the ground. I would’ve slid off her back and told Chester I’d changed my mind if he hadn’t started talking, distracting me.
“Stella,” he said, poised to mount. “You’re gonna have to take your feet out the stirrups so I can mount up behind you.”
A pleasant thrill ran through me at the thought of Chester mounted behind me, his thighs pressed against me. His crotch against my backside. With a little slick maneuvering our little ride through the woods could become interesting. Damn! If only I’d worn a dress. It wouldn’t have taken much to slide the hemline of a dress to my waist, free Chester’s cock from his jeans, and lower myself on it till he was buried to my core. That would have been a horseback ride to remember. The gentle rocking of the horse beneath us as we lost ourselves in the delicious thrill of our joined bodies.
I did as I was told, and in seconds, Chester was seated securely behind me. The saddle, however, wasn’t made for two people. We had to maneuver around a bit to get a comfortable fit. I had to bite my lip hard to keep from moaning. More and more I was longing for that dress. Hell, maybe if he took us deep enough into the forest I’d forgo the dress fantasy and simply take my pants off…but then again, maybe not. I’d only been with Jake a few da
ys ago.
Stella, I told myself, get your mind out of the gutter.
“How’s that?” he asked. “Does it feel good?”
Not nearly as good as it could, I thought, then took a deep breath, “Sure, it feels fine.”
“Now, rest your feet on mine and hold tight to the pummel.”
I gazed down at the object he was fisting and nearly fell off the horse. The pummel was part of the saddle. I knew that. But just then, buried in his clenched fist, the pommel didn’t seem so much like an inanimate object as it did a very large, very hard, cock head. Dear God, was the man trying to torment me?
“I feel like I could fall at any second. I don’t know about this, Chester.”
“Don’t worry Stella,” he said, reins in hand, “I won’t let you fall.”
We started out at a trot, then picked up speed. I could feel the muscles in his inner thighs tighten and flex against my backside as we rode. It felt good to be there, within the hollow of his body. It felt safe. I knew if indeed I did slip, he would catch me.
“Relax Stella, you’re stiff as a board,” he said. His lips brushed gently against my ear, sending a jolt of sensual awareness through me.
“I am relaxed.” Saying this, I forced my body to loosen and rest against him.
He released a satisfied sigh. “Mmm, that’s more like it. Now let me show you what Roxy can do.”
He emitted a noise that sounded like, “Yah!” and Roxy broke into a gallop.
The house and stables faded behind us, then out of sight completely. We were swallowed up into the mass of trees that surrounded the property. I would’ve been frightened if I didn’t see the clearly marked path below us. This was a trail Roxy had traveled on a regular basis, and as such, she wouldn’t accidentally run headlong into a tree.
I lost track of time, reveling in the experience. The wind whipped through my hair, and was cool on my skin. Made me feel as though I were a bird in flight. Short of sex with Jake, this horse ride was the most exciting thing I did this year, so far.
Then, I gave myself a mental kick. Why the hell was I thinking about Jake? What was it about that man that had gotten under my skin and stuck? Bloody hell! Here I was, with a perfectly nice man, a very attractive man, and my mind was on Jake.
“Look Stella.” At the sound of Chester’s voice in my ear, I started.
Before I saw where he was pointing, the sound of rushing water caught my attention. As the prickly ends of branches brushed against my jacket, and the rich, earthy smells of the forest became faint, I glanced ahead. My two-handed grip on the pummel immediately loosened. Concerns for safety were forgotten as the most magnificent vista I’d ever seen appeared before me.
“The river,” I said, awed by the sight. I’d seen rivers before, of course, but none like the one at the end of the dirt lane we’d been traversing.
“Isn’t it great? I knew you’d like it.”
The path beneath us became jagged with rocks. Large boulders lay scattered to the left and right of us, just beyond the trail. Ahead, the path didn’t end so much as it led into the water. There was a small clearing in the trees where Chester brought Roxy to a stop and dismounted.
Smiling up at me, he offered his hand then seemed to think better of it. Clasping me around the waist, he helped ease me off the horse. I slid down the length of his body, feeling every muscle in his chest ripple and flex as he lowered me. He didn’t let me go immediately, but kept his hands around my waist, holding me closer than necessary. I didn’t complain. I was still too enchanted by the scenery; too charmed he had thought to bring me here.
“If this was my backyard,” I said, “I’d never leave my house.”
He smiled, edging closer. His lips hovered inches above mine, moist and welcoming. I knew he wanted to kiss me. I wanted to kiss him too, but something inside of me rebelled.
“Do you have to tie her up?” I asked, before he could lower his head.
“No. Roxy’s a good girl. She won’t leave us.”
“Oh.” I swallowed.
He stared at my lips, blinked, then released me and stepped back. “Let’s go sit by the river.” As he spoke, he went to Roxy and pulled something free from the saddlebag.
Chester offered me his free hand. “Come on. It gets pretty rocky so watch where you step.”
I took his hand, but didn’t bother with anything as mundane as watching where I placed my feet. My surroundings were too spectacular to do anything other than gaze around me.
As we neared the end of the path, the vision that had awed me from a distance left me downright stupefied.
Crystalline water rushed by us, carrying fallen branches and bits of greenery on its rapids. Larger versions of the rocks dotting the end of the trail peppered the water. Massive, gray stones jutted from the river. Some were jagged with age while others had patches of green fungus marring their surface. To my left—the direction the water flowed from—the waterway descended a series of stony plateaus, making something of a flinty waterfall. It was, in a word, gorgeous. Further up the river, where the forest brushed the water’s edge, the reflection of the vegetation—trees, clumps of shrubbery, and yellow wild flowers—shimmered in the water. The very air I breathed was saturated with the fresh scent of the river. The mere act of breathing made me feel pure, cleansed. And the sound. It reminded me of going to the beach as a child when I’d spend hours in the sand digging up the largest seashells I could find so I could put them to my ear and listen to the music they made.
Though the river wasn’t very wide, a hundred feet, perhaps a bit more, it was incredibly long. From where I stood I couldn’t see where it began or where it ended. However, poised on the water’s edge as I was, I could see that the forest continued on the other side of the water. If I stared hard I could make out the faint edges of a path leading away from the water and deep into the darkness of the trees.
“This is amazing,” I said. It was like we’d crossed a portal into another time and place, and anything that happened here was for us alone.
But I knew we hadn’t crossed a portal and this wasn’t another time or place. We were still in Maryland and I had to live with anything I did today. Even now, Jake was never far from my mind, or that only days earlier I’d been splayed over his desk, getting fucked senseless. Even surrounded by such splendor, the thought of Jake nearly undid me.
“It’s pretty here,” I said.
“I know. Greg inherited the land from his father after his parents died. Come on, let’s sit.”
He had a blanket tucked under one arm and led me to a grassy spot. We spread the wooly cover over the browning grass then sat down.
“Comfortable?” he wanted to know once I was settled. “It’s not the best blanket, but it was the only one that would fit in the bag.”
“The cover’s fine. But this isn’t.” Bending, I lifted my leg and pulled at my boots.
Grinning, Chester crawled around and clasped my foot in his hands. “Let me.”
Taking his time about it, Chester slid the boot off. A moment later he had my sock in hand and was tucking it inside the discarded shoe. “Are those fairies?”
I glanced proudly at my toes. I’d just had a pedicure last week. I’d felt whimsical and carefree, and had them paint fairies on my toenails. I nodded. “I think they’re cute.”
He stroked my instep, applying just enough pressure to bring a sigh of pleasure from me. “I’m a sucker for nice feet.”
Things were suddenly moving too fast. He may have been a sucker for nice feet but I was a sucker for a handsome face and talented hands. And the way he was using his hands on my feet had my hormones on full alert. Once he had my other boot off, I thought it prudent to draw my legs beneath me and change the subject. “I can’t believe its February. This weather is amazing.”
Chester didn’t push. Instead, he settled on the blanket beside me and stared ahead at the water. “Bet you’re glad you came now. Enjoy it while it lasts because it’s supposed to drop into the thir
ties tomorrow and snow on Monday.”
“Valentine’s Day?”
He nodded.
His blue eyes seemed luminescent in the afternoon sun. His smile was slow, almost shy, and I realized suddenly that I was having a nice time.
“I never would’ve known you had such a love for history,” he said after a while. “It surprises me you’re not working in that field.”
Wiggling my toes, loving the feel of the air against my skin, I shrugged. “Not enough money.”
“What era of history is your favorite?”
“My focus was on Biblical history,” I began to say.
“I know. You said that earlier. But what era is your favorite?”
“I took a class on American history and I fell in love with the Revolution era. Before that, I was something of a historical snob. I was only interested in history if the period in question was at least fifteen hundred years in the past. Anything more recent was never interesting enough…or old enough.”
“So what changed your mind about American history?”
His focus was so intense I had to look away from him. I wasn’t quite sure what was going on here, as such an anomaly had never occurred before. But it appeared that Chester was asking me questions about myself. That wasn’t all, though. He was asking questions and seemed genuinely interested in the answers. So I told him what had drawn me to American history, shared stories about summer digs I took part in at Mount Vernon, George Washington’s Potomac home, and told him of Revolution themed trips I’d taken to Philadelphia and Boston.
I had an honest to goodness conversation with this man. We talked until the sun began a languid descent into the horizon. When the air began to chill, we pulled the blanket up around ourselves and cuddled close.
The Chronicles of Stella Rice: February Page 6
