by Selena Kitt
He scanned the sleek lines of the stallion. At least fifteen hands high, the sleek horse had a smooth gait that gently rocked Sarah in the saddle. The sight prompted pictures of how he’d seen her this morning, her breasts bouncing up and down, her ass riding against his thighs, and her sweet pussy milking his cock as she drove him wild.
“Would you sell him?” Bo asked to divert his thoughts away from the hunger building again in his groin. An erection and traveling on horseback didn’t exactly go together.
“No. Everyone thinks he’s a killer.” She slid her gloved hand through her horse’s mane and patted him affectionately. “We both know it’s not true. Don’t we, boy? You merely prefer a gentle touch.”
Curious about her comment, Bo narrowed his gaze. “Is the horse you’re riding the one that threw your husband?”
She nodded and continued to caress her horse. “Micah hated that Pretty Boy would only permit me to ride him.”
Can’t blame him.
Not hearing his unspoken words, she added, “My husband bought my stallion as a colt for my birthday. I broke him, which is why, I believe, he doesn’t react well to anyone else working with him. Micah couldn’t let it go. Every time he walked anywhere near Pretty Boy, he’d misbehave.”
Bo noted how much she cared for the stallion while they were back at the stable. She’d brushed aside any offers of help to bridle and saddle him herself.
“Jealous?”
“Pretty Boy, no. Micah, yes. He wanted me to sell my, uh, friend here to one of his influential clients, but I refused.”
“Then why was your husband riding him?” He didn’t see why the man would care one way or the other.
She stared down the lane. Her face set, a frown marring her beauty, she remained silent for several long moments. Just when he thought she wouldn’t respond, she spoke, “I guess since we’re considering marriage, I should tell you about Micah.”
Allowing her time to gather her thoughts, Bo judged how much longer it’d take them to reach his property. They’d started early, leaving a few minutes before dawn. In good weather, the trip took three hours. With the rain and muddy trail four or five. Identifying a few landmarks, he figured at least another hour, possibly two before they’d be home.
Sarah sighed and rubbed the back of her hand across her lips. “I’m sure you’ve read about Micah’s antics. How he liked to throw wild parties and gamble?”
“Yes. A few of my other deputy friends have met him. They said he was connected to everyone in Austin.”
“Along with a legion of other less reputable people. Both fancied a special piece of flesh from him.” She adjusted her position in her saddle and rolled her shoulders as if tense. “You probably also think he left me a fortune?”
The idea had occurred to him until her husband’s expensive habits came to mind. She had to have a reason for agreeing to remarry. Money, or lack thereof, could be a motivating factor.
He shrugged, “It doesn’t matter either way. It’s your money not mine.”
She blinked and stared at him for a long moment. “Well, you’re one of the few who feel that way. But then, most don’t know how truly broke I am.”
Patting her horse, she leaned forward, slid her hand along the animal’s neck, and stroked his ears. “Pretty Boy is my only inheritance. Everything else went to either his greedy family or his creditors.”
Frowning, he remembered the cabin they’d left hours earlier. “Then who paid for the room last night?”
“Madeline talked to the hotel owner. She convinced him it’d cause less of a ruckus for the other guests if he let me use it for one night.”
“Then why not marry one of his rich friends?” Bo spouted off, before he recalled her desire to break away from that bunch of lowlifes.
“I did receive a few offers. But after they found out I was broke, they changed their minds.” She tipped her chin, as if recalling their proposals. “Do you want to withdraw your offer?”
He shifted, trying to ease the pain in his crotch and grinned. “No, it’s not your money I’m interested in marrying.”
Sliding his gaze over her hideous outfit, he wished for the hundredth time today that he’d convinced her to hire a carriage. Instead, they both rode on separate horses. He longed to see her sensual curves and draw her close to his side, perhaps even steal a kiss.
“Those clothes you have on are going into the fire the minute you take them off,” he grumbled under his breath.
“Then what will I wear? You’re the one who put my carpet bag with my change of clothes in my trunk and sent it off to Madeline’s.” Sarah swung her hand out and tapped him on the arm. “Her note said she wouldn’t be able to deliver my things to your place for a few days. So what am I supposed to wear if you burn these?”
Erotic images formed in his mind, and he offered her a wicked grin. “Nothing, absolutely nothing.”
* * *
“That’s my house and barn up ahead.” Bo’s words filtered through Sarah’s exhaustion.
For the first time, she noticed two buildings standing not more than a hundred yards down the lane. The rain had stopped, but the chilly wind hadn’t. Her body felt like a block of ice. Still, she hadn’t complained or voiced any discomfort.
After all, she’d been the one to insist they not obtain a carriage. Her stallion would’ve caused problems if they had tied him to the back. She also preferred no one in town other than Madeline knew her ultimate destination.
“My father moved here from Georgia after his parents died. He had this house built to match his old southern home. That’s why it’s two stories with a large front porch.” Bo pointed to the white clapboard structure, smoke rising out of the chimney. “If you’d like I can drop you off at the house before I take the horses to the barn.”
“No. I should take care of Pretty Boy before I head inside.” She studied the large wooden building, the wide door with a hayloft opening above it, and the corral connected to it. “Do you have an extra stall?”
“I’m sure he won’t cause me any problems.” Bo laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “You have to be tired.”
Unwilling to tell a lie, she bit the inside of her cheek and held her tongue. He didn’t need to know how much she’d love to cozy up to a fire. “It won’t take long, and he’ll settle down much faster if I do it myself.”
“Suit yourself.” He led the way, flipped the latch, eased the door open, and waved her inside the barn.
Pretty Boy snorted and shook his head. The clips on his bridle clanked.
“Easy, boy, we’ll have you settled into a stall in a moment.” A male voice floated across the dim space.
Spotting the man walking along the aisle toward them, Sarah pulled on the reins and stopped their forward progress. Without bothering to comment to the stranger, she wrapped her arms around her horse’s neck. With a slight shift of her weight, she slid from her saddle. Her body straightened out and her boots hit the dirt floor with a soft thud.
She cooed reassuringly in her horse’s ears. “After I remove your saddle, I’ll rub you down and feed you something good to eat.”
“What do you think you’re doing hanging onto our horse that way?” The gruff tone resonated from behind her.
“Stay away from me,” she ordered. Using her stallion for support, she waited until her numb feet and stiff legs could handle all of her weight.
“Hey Chase, am I ever glad to see you.” Bo closed the barn door and came up beside her.
“Same here. Now, tell this boy to let go so I can take care of our new stallion.” The stranger tugged on her shoulder, trying to pull her away from her horse.
Bo’s sudden bark of laughter startled Pretty Boy. He bucked his head back and forth as if wanting to be set free.
Thrown off-balance by his movements, she wobbled on her feet and fought to maintain her hold on her horse. Her hat fell off, but she didn’t loosen her grip. “Easy baby, I won’t allow anyone near you but me.”
After a few seconds, he settled and cocked his head as if listening to some foreign sound.
“Let him go, Sarah.” Bo wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her backwards. “Chase has him.”
Loosening her grip on her horse, she stumbled and her hands fell to her side. “No, Bo, I don’t want...”
She watched in stunned silence as Pretty Boy followed the stranger, Chase, as he strolled through the center aisle of the barn. Suddenly beat, she bobbed unsteadily on her feet, and then her legs refused to hold her erect. She crumbled into Bo’s solid form.
He juggled her for a moment, then slipped an arm under her knees and swept her up against his chest. Her head landed on his shoulder, and she rested against his alluring warmth for a moment. His voice echoed through the large barn. “We’re heading inside, Chase. Come in when you’re done.”
Bo turned and stepped out into the frigid weather. A bitter wind brushed against her face, re-chilling her exposed cheeks.
She shivered and burrowed her nose against his neck. The masculine scent of him awoke her feminine senses. Her gloved hand slid to the collar of his duster. She flexed her frozen-stiff fingers, straining to hold onto the rough material. “Are you sure Chase can handle Pretty Boy? He can be very finicky while adjusting to a new place.”
“He’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about.” Bo didn’t stop. His footsteps sounded on the wooden planks of the porch. He juggled her in his arms for a brief moment, then opened the door and carried her inside the house.
A soothing warm engulfed her. She lifted her head to glance around the room. A large stone fireplace stood against the far wall while an elegant couch and a few upholstered chairs faced the hearth.
Bo stopped by the end of the sofa and released her legs. Her body slid along his solid form. After shaking off his gloves behind her back, he reached for the top button of her coat. “Let’s get you out of these clothes so we can warm you up.”
He didn’t ask for her assistance. In fact, he swatted at her hands several times. Her help hindered his progress more than aiding in the task. Soon, her coat landed on the floor, her shirt and camisole quickly followed. Bo unbuckled her pants and had them around her ankles before her knees decided to give out.
She sank to the couch, the misery of trying to stand finally ending. “I’m sorry, Bo. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be good as new.”
Smiling, he crouched in front of her, removed her boots and socks, and tugged her legs free of her pants. Then he wrapped his hands around her ankles. “Damn, woman, your feet are like ice.”
“Yes, well, it was a little cold out there today.” She curled her fingers, working to increase the circulation in them and noticed her gloves. She tugged on the stiff leather, trying her best to work them free. They didn’t budge.
“Why won’t these things come off?” she grumbled and glanced at her naked form. After enduring the frigid weather outside, the warmth in the room caressed her skin. With Bo on his knees, she stared at his solid form and wondered how he’d stripped her out of her clothes so easily.
He shifted, released her feet, moved between her legs, and captured her wrists. With a few swift tugs, he yanked her gloves free and cupped her hands tightly in both of his. “Why didn’t you tell me you were cold?”
“It wouldn’t have mattered one way or another we had to get here.” She leaned forward and brushed a quick kiss over his cheek. Grinning, she eased back. “What would you have done to warm me up? Stopped and made love on the trail? We would’ve both been covered in mud.”
His intense, dark-eyed gaze met hers. “I could’ve insisted you ride in front of me on my horse so I could’ve blocked the wind.”
She broke free of his hold and slid her arms around his neck. “Could have worked. But now that we’re here, perhaps you could come up with something else.”
Lifting his hands and capturing her wrists, he freed himself from her embrace and rolled to his feet. “Excellent idea. First, though, let me take off my coat. Then, I’ll tell you about another condition you’ll need to approve before we can be married.”
4
Sarah rubbed her hands over her thighs and drew in a deep breath. Bo had mentioned several times last night he had certain requirements of a wife. She had gathered it included teasing other men by exposing herself to them. Also, she understood he wanted her on his ranch to cook and clean for him and his brother. What else did he have in mind?
She did have a few lines she refused to cross. No man other than Micah had been allowed to fuck her, or to clarify the point to pump his cock into her pussy.
Bo alone now had that privilege. She did, however let other men lick her twat, kiss her, suck on her nipples, and tease her with their fingers, but nothing else. Spankings got her hot. Bondage did not. He had mentioned something... oh yeah, and no anal sex, period.
Narrowing her gaze to Bo, she watched him unbutton his coat. Should she have laid out her conditions last night? “I have a few too.”
He frowned and shrugged his duster off his shoulders. “Really? I can’t imagine anything other than no one is allowed to ride your horse.”
“I believe that goes without saying.” She leaned back and tugged an afghan off the arm of the couch. Soft cotton brushed against her skin, and she spread the throw over her lap.
Footsteps sounded on the front porch.
Sarah lifted the afghan and covered her breasts, tucking the edges under her arms. Her gaze darted to the entrance. She waited expectantly for it to open.
“That will be Chase.” Bo picked up her coat and carried it along with his to the door. He hung the items on a set of antlers, which were secured to the wall.
The door open, and a stiff breezed raced inside with the stranger who’d greeted them earlier. Several large lanterns scattered around the interior lit his face much better than the shadows in the barn. The resemblance to Bo was there, but this man had the coloring and the sharp features of a Comanche Indian.
His almost black eyes nailed her with a glare before he shut the door and slapped a hand over Bo’s shoulder. “Nice to see you finally decided to come home.”
Bo smiled and affectionately patted his brother’s arm. “Yes, and I brought a gift for both of us.”
Gift? Her? What exactly was Bo talking about? Did he think...
Fighting to rein in her runaway thoughts, she shifted her gaze to the fireplace. Now was not the time to panic, she and Bo were still working on what they required in a union between them.
A small flame captured her attention. She noted the fire had died to a few weak glowing embers. It needed another log to keep it going.
Damn, would this be a pointless trip? Did Bo want more than she could give him?
“Sarah, I want you to meet my brother. He’s one of the conditions of us getting married. You’ll need to sleep with him when I’m not around. Of course, when I am home, you’ll be available to both of us, either individually or in a shared session of passion.” Bo slapped his brother on the back and shoved him forward.
Stunned by his words, her jaw dropped, and she gawked at him. He must be insane. How many other men did he want her to have sex with? Didn’t she tell him she wasn’t a whore?
She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried again to speak. “I, uh, think maybe...”
Chase interrupted, “Bo, the lady isn’t excited by the idea. Perhaps you should reconsider.”
He turned and poked Bo in the chest. “I warned you it wouldn’t work. Even with you away from the ranch, she doesn’t want some half-breed banging on her.”
“Wait a second.” Bo grabbed his brother’s wrist and held it away from his body. “Sarah is different. She’s been married. Her husband had men tease, taste, and fuck her.”
“Bo.” She suddenly realized the problem. “That’s not exactly true.”
“What?”
Chase freed his wrist, strolled to one of the chairs near the fireplace, and sank onto the cushion. With a rebellious frown on his face, he cr
ossed his arms over his wide chest. The white of his shirt highlighted his large hands and long fingers. “See, you’ve done it again. You’ve made all sorts of assumptions without knowing the facts.”
Bo dropped down onto the couch beside her and ignored his brother. “Sarah, we discussed this. You said your husband let men play with you.”
Determined to make him understand, she tightened her grip on the afghan and blurted out, “I did, but I didn’t allow any other man to...”
Her face heated. She forced out the words, “plunge his cock into my twat. Only Micah.”
“Holy mother of...”
“Watch it, Bo,” Chase cut off his brother’s tirade.
