Bad Boy Brody

by Tijan

  Grabbing a halter and lead rope, one long enough for him to hold on to, I studied all the horses. A few didn’t want me there. Their nostrils flared. They could smell the wild on me, but one didn’t huff or back away. Her eyes were the gentlest I’d seen in a long time. I slipped the halter on, then the lead, and took her out of her stall. Once we were free of the barn and I had shut the door behind us, I tried to swing on to her back. Unfamiliar with the move, the mare shifted away from me, and I had to try again. Only Shiloh and Shoal knew my routine, but once I was on her, I made the clicking sound and urged her ahead. There was no opening at the fence so I had to get her going at full speed. Once we were close, I pulled her head back and she followed my signals. She jumped, her body clearing the fence easily. Shiloh fell in step beside us, following us all the way back to where Brody was still sleeping.

  Except he wasn’t.

  He was walking on the path, his shirt hanging over his shoulder, and his shorts and shoes on. He was looking down at his phone, frowning and only looking up when he heard us coming.

  “Holy shit.”

  I circled him with the horse before I slid down to the ground and handed him the rope. “You know how to ride, right?” I saw him earlier on a horse, but I didn’t know his comfort levels about a longer ride.

  A gurgled laugh rippled from his throat. He was gawking at the horse, which had started to shift around, feeling his nervousness.

  I frowned. “Brody. I saw you before, you were riding.”

  He shot me a look. “I’ve ridden you.”

  I flushed. “You know what I mean. You’ll need to ride back. It’s a long way.”

  He grinned, his eyes darkening at me. “I know. Sorry. I rode a long time ago when I was a kid. I agreed to talk to some therapist who’s coming today. He or she’s going to use horses for therapy.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded, eyeing the horse again. “What’s his name?”

  “Her.” I frowned. “I wouldn’t ever get you a stallion or stud to ride. Gelding, yes, but not them.”

  “Yeah.” He laughed shortly, raising a hand to the horse’s neck. “Hey, buddy. Hey, hey.” He said to me, “I have no clue what you just said. I’ll be honest, they all look the same to me.”

  Seeing a horsefly, I swatted it away.

  Shiloh snorted, shifting sideways to avoid it as well.

  “What?” Brody jerked around, alarmed.

  I flashed him a quick grin. “She’s just calling you a dumbass.”

  He looked at me. “Horses can’t understand what we’re saying. You can’t convince me of that.”

  “She can feel emotions.”

  “Oh.” He quieted, looking back to the horse I brought him. She was a beautiful chestnut body and mane. “Okay, I guess.” He nodded to her. “You and me, huh? I suppose we’ll get to know each other eventually.” He looked at me, motioning to her back. “How do I get up there?”

  I eyed him up and down before doing the same to her. She was giving me a look that said, “Please don’t let him hurt me.”

  I patted her on the neck, crooning, “No, no. I won’t.” I pressed my forehead to hers, reassuring her I had good intentions. She sensed my calmness, and her body visibly shook as she settled.

  I took the lead rope from Brody and motioned to a rock jutting out over the path farther down. “You can get up there, and I’ll bring her along in front of you. You can get on her that way.”

  He looked at her back. “She isn’t saddled.”

  “Are you joking?”

  He flushed. “You grew up like this. Being around horses is more normal to you than being around people. I get that, but it isn’t for me. I’m used to people, and cars, and motorcycles.” He gestured to the chestnut mare, who had a wary look in her eye again. “I can do sex. I’m very good at sex, but as far as riding another living creature like a horse? It’s been It’s a different ball game for me.”

  “I’ve seen you ride for the movie. You handled everything like you knew what you were doing.”

  He smirked. “That’s called acting. It’s what I’m damned good at, and that wasn’t long term. Those horses were trained. They knew to take me from spot A to spot B, and not to buck me off on the way.”

  I sighed. I was going to have to ride her with him, and I gestured to the rock. “Go. It’ll be fine.”

  He didn’t move. “I have no problem walking back.”

  I gestured again, my hand flicking more impatiently. “I said go. Get on there.”

  As he sighed and then climbed onto the rock, I gently pulled myself up onto her back. Motioning her forward, I lined her up in front of him.

  “You’re riding her too?”

  “I have to, or it’ll take two hours to get you back. We’re seven miles away.”

  He gulped. “For real? Seven miles?”

  I nodded, indicating behind me. “Just gently climb on.” As he did, he lined his body up behind mine, and his arms wrapped around my waist. “Don’t sneak any feels. I could react, and she might drop us both on the ground.”

  I didn’t add how I doubted she’d do that. He didn’t need to know that.

  He nodded, but his hand dipped under my shirt. His head dropped, and I felt his lips graze my neck as he said, “I’ll do my best.” But as we started off, his hand didn’t stay still. He had it under my pants and resting at the edge of my underwear before we’d even traveled a mile.

  By the second mile, his finger was inside me, and I was leaning all the way back against him.

  Somehow, the mare got us back, but I had to admit that I hadn’t done much of the steering.

  He brought me to a climax, a slow and smooth and sensual one so my body was softly shaking once the chestnut stopped by the fence.

  His lips skimmed the side of my neck. “Well, that was the best horse ride ever.”

  I groaned. “I told you not to touch me like that.”

  His grin turned cocky when I motioned for him to get off the horse. He slid down, dropping the last couple of feet to the ground. “Yeah, you totally gave me that impression when you opened your legs wider for me.”

  I barked out a laugh but caught up the reins in my hand. I clicked, turning the chestnut back again. “Stand back. I have to jump her.” I signaled for her to go farther. We’d need a running start.

  “What?”

  I nodded to the end of the fencing. “The only opening is up ahead by the barn, but not down here. I gotta jump her to get her in there.”

  He was starting to climb over the fence when I turned her back and kicked her into full gallop. She cleared the fence easily, and instead of waiting for Brody, I rode her all the way to the barn as Brody followed on foot.

  I put her in the stall, watered her, and was brushing her down by the time he entered behind us. Waiting until I was done, he just stood and watched.

  I’d done this act so many times, it was second nature. I’d taken care of horses when other people were in the barn with me, but it felt different this time. Maybe it was because we were intimate last night, or even the ride here, or maybe it was Brody himself. For whatever reason, as I brushed the mare down, as he stood and watched, and as we both didn’t say a word, it felt like one of the most intimate moments I’d endured.

  My nerves were stretched tight, and I didn’t want to question if that was a good thing or not. I just knew that I wasn’t surprised when Brody grabbed my hand once I was done. He began to lead me toward the door. I started to go with him. My body was saying yes all over again, but I cleared the fog and dug my heels in.

  We were going fast, too fast.

  Right?

  I asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to the cabin. I have a bed there. A soft bed.”

  I was torn. I wanted to, but . . .

  It was becoming too much, too intense too quickly.

  I pulled my hand free. “I shouldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  I shook my head. Tucking my hand behind my
back, I began edging backward. “I just can’t. It’s a lot . . . I’m sorry.”

  “But—” His expression twisted in confusion. “I want you beside me.” He stepped toward me again. “I want to hold you.”

  I wanted that too. And we’d have that. But not here, not in his cabin, not so close to where I felt the world was trying to pull me back into its folds.

  I reached for the door behind me. “I can’t.” I opened it and slipped outside. Before I shut it, I said quickly, “I’ll come back.”

  Then I shut the door and ran back to where Shiloh was waiting for me. She had followed behind us as I hoped.

  When I climbed over the fence and onto her, I looked back.

  Brody was standing inside that door, watching me. I paused, but I didn’t wave. He didn’t, either, and feeling myself hardening inside, I dug my heels in. Shiloh didn’t need another signal. She tore off, and we veered back to the cliff’s edge again, both of us feeling as if we were flying moments later.

  Except this time, it didn’t feel as free.

  Brody

  I got laid and rejected, all within twenty-four hours.

  And was propositioned by my therapist.

  “I thought that was against your code of ethics or something.”

  She smiled coyly, cocking her head to the side and fluttering those eyelashes at me. I fought against rolling my eyes. It wasn’t the best come-on I’d witnessed. It wasn’t the worst, but it was among them.

  She was stroking the horse’s lead rope as if she were wishing it was my cock, or maybe she thought it looked seductive. It didn’t.

  “I’m not really a therapist. I studied counseling, got into graduate school, and then took a job at a horse ranch. I never finished my degree, but my boss hired me because of work experience. Said my internship was enough. They just can’t bill you like a normal client. So voilà. I’m not tied down to the same ethics normal therapists are.”

  Of course. That seemed like something that’d happen to me: getting a counselor that’s not a counselor at all. I think karma was trying to tell me something.

  She leaned forward, making sure her cleavage was on full display. I eyed the horse behind her. He’d been eyeing her, too, stomping his foot in agitation. I narrowed my eyes and corrected myself. A mare. Morgan said most of these were mares.

  “Any geldings in here?”

  She paused, her eyebrows dipping together, but then she nudged the horse back into her stall. She closed the door and followed along as I walked past all of them. There were a good ten horses in the barn, maybe more.

  She looked around and shrugged. “I don’t know, actually. Matthew Kellerman got these from the Coral Ranch just down the road. They breed mostly quarter horses. I don’t think they’d loan out a gelding, though. They’d keep those back.” She gestured to the wilderness beyond the field and fence. “Just to be safe, and everything has to be locked up tight. Want to make sure no mares run off with the herd.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, especially with that stallion. He’s the most male stallion I’ve ever seen. Not a mild temperament.”

  I stopped and focused more on her. “What do you know about the herd? Are you from around here?”

  She nodded. “I grew up here, came back instead of going to that grad school, and I just know what everyone around these parts knows. They’re protected by the government, though the government is thinking about rounding them up and there’s legislation that might get them slaughtered.”

  No—no way. That’d devastate Morgan.

  Seeing my look, she rushed out, “But don’t worry. I doubt that’ll happen to these guys. The Kellermans have been letting them roam these lands all their life, but they’re dangerous. I mean, they’re true wild horses. Don’t get one cornered. They’ll fight back. They could kill a person.”

  She began walking toward the front of the barn and, almost as an afterthought, mentioned, “I mean, except for the youngest Kellerman.” I froze, but she was too busy laughing to notice. “If she even exists.”

  She was reaching for the door.

  I clapped a hand over the knob, stopping her.

  Her head jerked up, and I smiled, using my best seductive swoon there was. “What do you mean, if she exists?”

  God. This therapist that wasn’t a therapist. I didn’t know her name. She was another female that blended in with all the other females in my life, but not Morgan. Morgan was special. Morgan was important, and now this pretend-therapist was seriously getting on my nerves.

  She laughed, a nervous thread in her voice. Backing away a step, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shrugged again. “It’s nothing, just a stupid joke.”

  “Morgan Kellerman?”

  “Yeah. It was the dad that killed her mom.”

  My fake smile dropped. I clipped out, “What?”

  The dad…

  It clicked then. Everything. It was even in the goddamn script. Karen was hiding from her first husband—Morgan’s father.

  I looked out the back of the barn, half-hoping that Morgan would be there but knowing she wouldn’t be. She was a damned ghost, and another piece of information fit into place about how much she must’ve needed to be a ghost.

  Her father.

  The therapist reached around me and opened the door so she could pass. “On top of the murder, the little girl was in the woods. She stayed out there so long that there was an uproar. It was a big deal. There was a murder and then a huge search party all at the same time. The Kellermans organized a manhunt. Dogs were brought in, professional guides, trackers. You name it. It took a couple days to find her. She was curled up behind a log, sleeping soundly. She was perfectly fine, even thought it was a game.”

  “Was there news coverage about that?”

  She shrugged. “Just the rumor mill. We don’t have local news like that. There might’ve been a news article, but everyone knows that Mr. Kellerman had it all covered up, the murder too. He didn’t want any of it leaking. Doesn’t like bad news spreading, could hurt his big fancy empire or whatever he runs. At least, that’s what people around town say.”

  My stomach was rolling over. “Tell me more about that day, when Karen was murdered.”

  She studied me a second, her eyes flicking up and down. “It’s an inside joke about the girl being a myth. Everyone in town knows she exists. I mean, it’s just something stupid we use to help with the tourists, you know? People like traveling up around here, seeing if they can get a glimpse of the ‘wild girl.’ We’re all, actually, kind of protective of her.” Worry etched in her eyes, and she flicked them up and down me. “Don’t go blabbing this shit to anyone else. Okay?”

  I was sick to my stomach.

  Morgan.

  I looked again. Dense forest covered the mountain. There was a river that led into a lake. Crevices. Ravines. Cliffs. There was solid rock in some places and long billowy grass in others.

  Then there was a beautiful waterfall and a hot spring.

  She showed me all that treacherous beauty.

  She didn’t hide out there. She lived out there. She thrived out there. She wasn’t some mystery to be used to toy with the seasonal tourists, or even a story to be talked about.

  She was real. She was so goddamn real.

  “You okay?”

  “What?”

  The therapist had been watching me. She turned toward the forest too. “You see something out there?”

  “Nah.” Too much. “Nothing at all.” I’d seen everything.

  “Well . . . anyway.” She started for her car. “You obviously don’t have a problem with horses. I don’t know why they had me come out, but if you need to talk to someone, you should probably see a real therapist.”

  “Yeah.” I muttered, wanting nothing more than to ignore her as she turned back to me. “I’ll do that.”

  “And, uh, could I get an autograph? Maybe a selfie with you?”

  I shoved my hands into my pockets. “Not a fucking chance.�
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  Morgan

  It wasn’t even a full day.

  I couldn’t last that long.

  I felt his touch all day.

  I could feel how his lips slid down my throat, over my body. How I felt in his arms, the weight of him above me, the pressure of him filling me. How he gripped my legs and slid inside, over and over again.

  I spent the day with Shiloh, but my mind was with him. He never left me. He was whispering to me, beckoning to me, pulling me back to him until I could no longer stay with the herd.

  I swung my legs off Shiloh and walked back to him.

  She started to follow me, but when she realized where I was going, she trotted up to me and dropped her nose onto my shoulder. I reached up, my hand rubbing over the front of her face where the gray faded to a soft white. I always loved the look on her, and I glanced up, looking into her eyes. She was watching me, a sadness there.

  She knew I was being pulled away.

  I flattened my hand and ran it all the way up into her mane. Dropping my forehead to rest over the bridge between her eyes, I sighed.

  So did she, lowering her head even more so we were almost on equal footing. Almost.

  She’d always tower over me, and I pulled back.

  I ran my hand through her mane again before moving over her strong cheek and down over her soft nose. “I love you, girl.” I bent my forehead back to hers. “Sister to sister.”

  But I needed to go to him.

  There was a stirring in me, and it was alien, but he would calm it. I knew he would, because he’d been the one to awaken it.

  I turned back, and it wasn’t long before I felt her absence. She’d returned to the herd.

  It was late when I climbed to his second-floor patio. He’d left the door open, but the curtain hung there to keep any bugs out. I walked through to his room.