Riding Hard

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  She quickly straddled his knees and took his face in both hands. “Yes, you do.” And she kissed him.

  It was the sweetest, most loving gesture any woman had ever made to him. It spoke of caring and empathy, of encouragement and respect. He wrapped both arms around her and simply held her as he received her blessing—he couldn’t think of a better word for it—in the spirit it was intended. This wasn’t about heat and hunger. It was about redemption.

  Slowly she ended the kiss and settled back on his knees. He opened his eyes to find her watching him, her smile soft. “What do you say now, cowboy?”

  “Okay.” His voice was still hoarse with emotion. “I’ll consider getting a hat.”

  She shook her head. “Not good enough. Considering means you’re still in the thinking stage.”

  “What is this, a project?”

  “I think it is, yes. You would look great in a hat, and I know exactly what we’re going to do.”

  “Oh?” He liked the way she’d said we, as if they shared this project. “And what are we going to do, Miss Tracy?”

  “We’re going shopping.”

  “Oh, no, we’re not. If you help me pick out a hat in the Shoshone General Store, the gossip will fly. It may anyway, but that would ramp it up considerably. I can hear it now. Nice hat. Understand Tracy picked it out for you. How are things going between you guys? Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.”

  “I wasn’t thinking we’d buy it here. I have to work from eleven to five tomorrow. Then I need to feed the critters, but after that, assuming Dottie and Sprinkles are doing fine, we’ll take a quick drive to Jackson. The stores are keeping summer hours. We can make it there before they close and be home again in a jiffy.” She grinned. “With a hat.”

  She looked so proud of her idea that he couldn’t imagine saying no. “All right. I’ll drive us into Jackson.”

  “Yay!”

  Here she’d given him a gift by proposing this trip, and yet she acted as if he’d given her one by agreeing to go. He knew himself. Left to his own devices, he’d never buy a hat, even if he thought he was worthy of one. “But only if Dottie and Sprinkles are doin’ fine.”

  “They will be.” She climbed off him. “Let’s take a look and see how they’re doing now.”

  “Good call. Maybe Dottie’s delivered the placenta by now.” He hoped so. He couldn’t speak for Tracy, but he was tired. She had to be, too.

  Tracy stood and peered over the chest-high enclosure. “Aw, Drake. They’re sleeping.”

  He joined her, and it was the most natural thing in the world to put his arm around her as they gazed at the tender scene in the stall. Sprinkles had curled up in the shelter of his mother’s body, and both mare and foal were asleep.

  Watching them, he felt a sense of accomplishment, and with it came another epiphany. He really did love working with horses. Whether he continued as a vet or not, he needed horses in his life. He might not be the horse whisperer Regan was, but he treasured working with them, anyway.

  “That’s just precious,” Tracy murmured.

  Precious wasn’t a word he generally used, but they were darned cute. Sharing the moment with Tracy was pretty special, too, almost as if they were proud parents peeking into the nursery. He hated to disturb the magic of holding her against his side while they contemplated the miracle of a newborn foal, but she would want a picture of this. He should probably remind her to take one. She seemed mesmerized by the scene, though. Then she slid her arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder.

  His chest tightened with an emotion he wasn’t all that familiar with. To hell with the picture. If she didn’t mention it, he wouldn’t either. He’d rather stay right like this.

  In fact, he wouldn’t move if someone offered him a million bucks. Tracy had told him without words that she didn’t just lust after him anymore. She might still display that hair-trigger response under the right circumstances, but at the moment, she was communicating clearly that she liked him.

  Earlier in the evening they’d become lovers, and that had been a big turning point in their relationship. But in the past few hours something more had passed between them, and they’d become friends. He valued the second stage even more than the first one, and he’d been crazy about that first one.

  She snuggled closer. “I should get a picture.”

  “Guess so.”

  “But I hate to move.”

  “Me, too.”

  “This has been an awesome night, Drake. The kind of night that I’ll remember for a long time.”

  “So will I.” He kissed the top of her head. “Thank you.”

  She sighed happily. “I should thank you, but then we’d start that silly thing where we compete to see who gets in the last thank-you.”

  “How do you know we’d do that?” He rested his cheek on the top of her head. “Maybe you’d say, No, I should thank you, and I’d say, You’re right. You should.”

  “I doubt it. That’s not you.”

  “Try me.”

  “Okay, I will. No, Drake, I should be thanking you, because you’re so wonderful and generous and—”

  “Yep, I surely am. I’m amazing. In fact, I’m so special I think I’ll get me a hat.”

  She started laughing, which broke up their cozy little moment, but he was okay with that. They were both getting slaphappy from fatigue. With any luck, Dottie had passed the placenta and he and Tracy could go to bed. That was an enticing prospect. He didn’t want to fall asleep and miss all the fun they could have.

  Back in the stall, he located the placenta and tossed it into the bucket he’d brought for it. Dottie and Sprinkles continued to snooze as Tracy took a few more pictures.

  Then she turned. “Are we ready to go?”

  “Whenever you are.” He peeled off his gloves and set the bucket outside the stall. He’d deal with that later. “They’ll be fine for a few hours.”

  She covered a yawn and glanced at her phone. “We have another three hours before it’s feeding time again.”

  “Then let’s close up and head out.” Moments later they’d latched both the back and front doors of the barn. He caught her hand in his as they walked up to the house in the slight chill. Stars winked overhead and the crescent moon had already set. “I’ll set my alarm and feed,” he said. “You have to be at work by eleven, but I can nap.”

  “That’s not right. Feeding the critters is what Lily and Regan are paying me for.”

  “Yes, but circumstances have changed, so we have to be flexible. Besides, if you don’t sleep in, you’ll be too tired to go hat shopping.”

  “You drive a tough bargain, Brewster.” She covered her mouth with her free hand as another yawn overtook her.

  That second yawn convinced him that he should rethink his original plan for what would happen when they got back to the house. “Listen, maybe you should go back to your room so you can get some decent rest.”

  “What?” She pulled him to a halt. “Are you kicking me out of your room?”

  “Of course not! But you’re obviously tired, and if we both end up in my room, I may not be able to let you go straight to sleep, which you should, because you need your—”

  “Shut up, cowboy.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Just be quiet until we get to your room, okay? And then the only things I want to hear out of you are gasps and moans of ecstasy. None of this you need your rest garbage. Understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Suddenly he wasn’t the least bit tired.

  “I guess you can also say yes, ma’am now and then, because that Southern drawl turns me on like you wouldn’t believe. No more being solicitous, though. I’ve been waiting to climb into bed with you for hours. Hay bales are fine once in a while, but I wouldn’t want a steady diet of having sex on them.” />
  Neither would he, but he didn’t say so. He was saving his breath for all those gasps and moans of ecstasy she’d promised him. Apparently the switch Tracy had flipped to give herself a change of attitude had been permanently turned on. And he was loving it.

  “I will, however, let you feed the critters so I can sleep in. You make an excellent point about the shopping trip, and I need to be sharp for that. There’s an art to choosing the right hat, especially the first one. Eventually you’ll get a feel for how to choose them on your own.”

  He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “That’s what I like. A Southern gentleman in an agreeable mood. I can’t wait to get you naked.”

  He was laughing, now, because he so enjoyed listening to her being sassy. But as they climbed the steps together and went into the house, he realized that he’d semicommitted to staying at least through tomorrow night. He doubted they’d come home from a hat-shopping trip and not want to celebrate the event appropriately, which would be in his bed.

  But if Dottie and Sprinkles continued to do well, he had no official reason to stay after that. The mare had foaled and Tracy was no longer afraid of her sexuality. If he stayed beyond tomorrow night, word would surely get out.

  After that, he could reasonably predict that someone, most likely Josie, would demand to know his intentions. After all, he’d told her he wouldn’t be getting involved with Tracy. Unfortunately, he had no idea what his intentions were.

  At least he had no idea for the future. The present was crystal clear, especially after Tracy drew him into the guest bedroom and clothes began flying everywhere. He couldn’t have talked, even if she hadn’t forbid him to. He was too busy kissing whatever wonders he uncovered.

  He was particularly focused on her plump breasts. He’d denied himself the pleasure of touching and licking them when he’d made love to her in the barn, but he planned to correct that omission now. Once they were both stripped down to nothing, he tumbled her back onto the bed, cupped that glorious bounty in both hands, and feasted.

  Moaning, she arched into his caress, which sent desire shooting through his veins. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. After putting up with a blanket tossed onto a hay bale, having her stretched out on the bed, where he had access to every bit of her, made him determined not to miss a single inch of soft, moist skin.

  She was delicious everywhere, but when he slid down between her thighs and tasted her essence, desire ripped through him with a tsunami-like force. She writhed beneath him as she responded to the lap of his tongue and the thrust of his fingers. She came, and then she came again, her cries filling the room.

  He loved hearing those lusty sounds, loved knowing she could make all the noise she wanted this time. He lingered in that sweet valley as she trembled in the aftermath. Her scent intoxicated him, and although his cock was stiff as granite, although his balls ached for release, he leaned forward and swiped his tongue over her pulsing center. Maybe once more.

  She gasped and clutched his head as she struggled for breath. “Come...here.” She tugged.

  He eased up her sweat-dampened body and hovered over her, his forearms taking most of his weight.

  She looked up at him, her dark eyes glazed with pleasure. “That was...” She smiled. “Good.”

  “I’m glad.” He leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers so she could share the taste. Then he watched as she licked her lips. He had to clench his jaw against the urge to come. Once he had himself under control, he cleared his throat. “Can I talk, now?”

  “Uh-huh.” She dragged in air. “But first, get the box.”

  He didn’t have to ask what she meant. There was only one box that mattered, the one that had been sitting on the nightstand when they’d walked into the room. Fortunately he could reach it without much effort. He set it down between her breasts. “Here.”

  She pulled a packet out and handed it to him. “Here.”

  Grinning, he pushed himself to a sitting position straddling her thighs, ripped open the packet and handed her the unwrapped condom. “Here.” This was fun. He picked up the box and leaned slightly forward so he could return it to the nightstand while putting his cock within her reach.

  He’d thought he was being so clever, so cute. Then she fumbled the job. Not completely, because she got the thing on him, but in the process he had flashbacks to his teen years when he’d had the control of a gnat. Giggling hysterically might have been part of her problem. He didn’t think it was so damn funny, and neither would she if this condom application went bad.

  Finally she snapped it in place. “There.”

  He spoke through gritted teeth. “Thanks.”

  “Your face is all scrunched up.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Did I get it on right? Maybe I should adjust—”

  “Don’t touch.”

  “If you say so.” Laughter rippled through her voice. “Are we going to do this, then?”

  “In a minute.”

  “Okay.”

  Gradually the pounding in his groin let up enough that he unclenched his jaw and opened his eyes.

  She stared up at him, all innocence except for the sparkle of mischief lurking in her eyes.

  “Tracy, did you do that on purpose?”

  Her smile confirmed his suspicions. “You started it,” she said. “I just ended it.”

  “You almost did end it.” He moved between her soft thighs, grateful that he’d held on, in spite of her. His reward would be worth everything she’d put him through.

  “Just proving a point.”

  “What point?” He knew the territory well, now, and he found her slick heat without effort. After two orgasms, she was drenched. He held back, poised at her entrance, knowing that once he thrust deep, his brain would cease to function, and he wanted to hear this.

  “A cowboy only fires when ready. More evidence that you qualify.”

  “Damnation, woman! You’re makin’ this up as you go along.”

  “Ask any cowboy. They’ll say it’s true.”

  “I guarantee they would, sweetheart. No man would admit to anything less, cowboy or stockbroker.”

  She ran her hands down his back and bracketed his hips. “Just want to make sure you’re still getting that hat.”

  “I don’t know. You’d better check out my other qualifications before we go shopping.”

  “Such as?”

  He surged forward, burying himself in her hot channel as she gasped in surprise. Breathing hard, he gazed down at her. “Is that the cowboy way?”

  She gulped. “Yes.”

  “How about this?” He began a slow, deliberate rhythm and watched the fire build in her eyes. “Is that how cowboys do it?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Then what?” He shifted his angle and picked up the pace. “Like this?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She clutched his hips and held on as her breasts jiggled with the impact of each thrust. “Just like that.”

  He scooped one arm under her bottom and lifted her just enough to let him go deeper. “Then maybe this.”

  She didn’t answer him this time, but her body did. The first spasm rolled over his cock, then the second.

  “Come for me, Tracy.” He felt her give way. “That’s it, darlin’. Now.”

  She erupted in his arms, and he followed her right down that tumbling waterfall of sensation. His cries blended with hers as he surrendered to a climax that shook him to his soul. If this was the cowboy way, he was all for it.

  10

  TRACY FELL ASLEEP in Drake’s arms, his body still locked securely with hers. Obviously that situation had changed at some point, because when her phone alarm went off, she was by herself in his bed. She stretched and foolishly wished he’d been there beside her when she’d op
ened her eyes.

  That wouldn’t have worked out too well, though. She was still naked, and thoughts of him brought a rush of arousal to all the places he’d loved so energetically hours earlier. If he’d been there, she would have been tempted to replay some of those excellent moments.

  But she had to go to work. As she sat up, she noticed a note anchored by the box of condoms sitting on the nightstand. He’d scribbled it in haste and he wrote in cursive, not the neat block letters she’d noticed many men preferred. His handwriting was horrible, and she had to squint to figure out some of the words, but she managed it.

  Dottie and Sprinkles doing great. Critters all fed. Coffee in the carafe if you want it. Drove home for a few things. Back around noon. Will start feeding at five. See you after work. I just realized I don’t know where you live. I mean normally.

  He’d signed it D. No tender closing. The man had admitted to writing poetry, but there wasn’t anything poetic about this note. If she’d hoped for something sweet, something to let her know...what? That he was madly in love with her? That would be a little quick, now, wouldn’t it? She’d be suspicious of a love note this soon.

  Or so she told herself. Still, the utilitarian message he’d left, and the very fact he hadn’t waited until she woke up to drive away, didn’t make her feel all warm and fuzzy. She wouldn’t have minded if he’d signed his note Warmly or Fondly. He’d been both warm and fond in the barn and in this bed.

  He’d been one hot commodity, too. Whew. If he’d been popular with women in the past, and she believed that he had, then experience counted for something. He’d given her more pleasure in a few hours than her other two serious boyfriends had given her...ever. They’d never come close to making her yell. In this room, in this bed, with Drake, she’d yelled. Loudly.

  Maybe loud yelling didn’t translate into flowery love notes. If she had to choose, she’d take sex that prompted shouts of joy over those notes. No contest there. Plus he had asked where she lived, which had a promising ring to it, as if he might want to continue seeing her after the house-sitting gig ended.