A Case of Mistaken Identity

by Collette Thomas

  Myrna recognized where they were going as they headed up a long dusty road past a sign announcing Milton's Riding Stables and Horse Farm. It was one thing, Myrna thought as they drew near the corral out back behind the barn, to ignore the flies buzzing incessantly around her head, but it was clearly impossible to avoid the unmistakable odor of manure that seemed to add weight to the humid July air.

  Flynt draped his arm over her shoulders and pointed to the horses milling around the yard.

  "Take your pick, Red!"

  Driving up that dusty trail, she should have been reasonably prepared. Now he was asking her to make her choice among what appeared to be a group of relatively skittish horses inside a penned area—horses who may not have been ridden in awhile and were raring to go galloping off at a moment's notice.

  Based on this assumption, she quickly dismissed a frisky mare named Firebrand and a chestnut gelding named Speed. Against his urging to choose a more spirited animal, Myrna decided on a small black and white, nondescript fellow by the name of Pokey, hoping against hope that the name matched its disposition. Flynt on the other hand, picked out a large, muscular, onyx stallion called Thunder. Appropriate, she thought as she listened to faint roll of rumblings in the distance. She could only hope that her horse lived up to his name, and for Flynt's sake, Thunder did not.

  Once they were saddled up, they rode into the noonday heat. She caught the scent of a mixture of dried sun-burnt grass and pungent wildflowers combined with her own sweat. She consoled herself by thinking of her favorite old western that romantically depicted the hero riding into a breathtaking sunset with the heroine nestled securely across his lap, and almost looked forward to the end of this day.

  They started out well enough, walking at a nice leisurely pace. When Flynt pulled up beside her, he reached for her hand, his fingers closing over hers with warm strength. She thought about last night and how they had made love for most of the night, sharing fantasies and possibilities.

  Then she thought about tonight and what that might bring. Suddenly, as her butt kept in rhythm with the movement of the saddle beneath her crotch, she began to understand why horseback riding could provide the perfect aphrodisiac. Yes, this was how it should be, she thought as her mind replayed scenes from various movie classics.

  Yes this was more like it, she thought as she smiled up at him. “This wasn't such a bad idea, Flynt,” she yelled, “although I did have reservations."

  "I told you we wouldn't run out of fuel today.” Suddenly his horse pulled off to one side, and Flynt looked like he was struggling to keep the horse in line with hers.

  "Depends what kind of fuel you're speaking of.” She couldn't help but think that Thunder may have enjoyed more than his share of wild oats that morning.

  "No problem. He's just full of himself."

  The horses picked up speed, forcing Flynt to release Myrna's hand as Thunder's gait turned into a full gallop. Flynt's bottom no longer in sync with his saddle made her wonder as she witnessed the slapping of butt to hard leather. Didn't all cowboys know how to ride? And this had been Flynt's idea, she reminded herself, so he must know what he's doing. But if he did, then why was Thunder taking off at full gallop with her cowboy? She suddenly got the feeling Thunder had assumed control.

  Myrna spurred Pokey on, hoping to catch up, but to no avail. Pokey must've enjoyed more than his amount of oats that morning because it seemed that no amount in all of Kansas was making her horse go any faster. The sorry excuse for a horse obviously had two speeds—slow and slower. As for Thunder, the black stallion seemed not at all pleased with Flynt's efforts to control him. Thunder definitely had a mind of his own, and set upon showing his rider did just that.

  "Flynt! Wait up!” Myrna cried out, as Poky trotted obliviously along.

  "Whoa! C'mon you stupid horse. Whoa!"

  Flynt's voice started to grow faint and she was afraid she was going to eventually lose sight of him. “Pull the reins! P-p-pull the reins!"

  "I am dammit!"

  Valiantly Jonathan pulled on the reins as his bottom slapped mercilessly against the rigid unforgiving saddle. He didn't even want to think about how he was going to feel the following day. He knew his private masseuse would be betting a good workout for the next month or so. Either that or his chiropractor could now well afford that new car he always talked about.

  What woman was worth a herniated disc?

  Thunder deciding it was enough punishment for his harried rider, suddenly came to a dead halt and sent his rider plummeting to the hard dusty ground.

  Jonathan looked up at Thunder and swore he could detect a gleam of satisfaction in the horse's eyes. Adrienne and Pokey appeared on the scene just in time to see Thunder's back end disappear from view. Ominous dark clouds floated overhead. Dust billowed around Jonathan as he slapped his hat against his thigh. He gave Adrienne a tight-lipped smile. The redheaded beauty pursed her lips, and he knew it was to keep from laughing. It made him think maybe he'd been wrong all along. Could this mystery woman be Adrienne Bennett? What other woman would take so much joy in his suffering? He suddenly remembered the lake, the rowboat, and the kids taunting him because of his fear of water. At that moment the clouds crashed together and the sky seemed to split open, dumping a torrent of rain onto the earth. Yet in spite of the deafening sound, he could still hear Adrienne's laughter bubbling over and over.

  The whole thing was a comedy of errors, from yesterday's aborted adventure on the highway to the high romance of riding the countryside on horseback. Flynt Adams slapped his hat on his head and sputtered as water streamed from the brim. His hair and clothes were plastered to his skin and his boots squished as he began to stalk her.

  Myrna's laughter faded at the gleam in Flynt's eyes, and her body felt as if it were heating up from the inside out. The soaking rain accentuated the muscular outline of his form, reminding her of how wonderful he felt against her. How he could look sexy and vulnerable at the same time, she didn't know. She didn't care. His gaze traveled down her body as he advanced toward her. She realized that her clothes were just as wet, just as revealing. Her mouth went dry and she backed up a step. The heavy rains kept coming. The once dusty trail was turning into thick brown mud. He stumbled and slipped, waving his arms for balance. His attempts to stand up in the quickly forming quagmire proved futile. Myrna reached over to help him, but as she grabbed on to his hand, he pulled her down right on top of him. Stunned, she lay there stretched out on his body, feeling the heat between them and the cold wet rain pounding on her back. He grinned wickedly at her, and then clamped his arms around her, trapping her in his muddy embrace.

  "Okay, okay, Red. Don't say anything. I can tell by the way that beautiful mouth of yours is quivering. You're either going to laugh or cry your head off. Whatever it is you decide, just go ahead and do it."

  "You know Flynt, I'm tempted to say this could happen to anyone, but I seriously doubt it."

  "Okay so you've noticed I have a knack of bungling things, don't I?"

  Maybe just bad luck or bad judgment on his part, she wanted to say, but she had a feeling that such an implication would only irritate his male ego. Without warning, he cupped the back of her head and urged her down to meet his kiss. Suddenly, again under his control, the rain, the mud, the absurdity of their situation vanished. Myrna was conscious only of his warm teasing mouth and his hard body against hers. Her drenched blouse hid nothing from view. His mouth moved over hers and gently parted her lips, deepening the kiss. No amount of wine could be as intoxicating. No fantasy could possibly be this potent.

  They lay alone on that rain-soaked ground. Myrna, staring down at him, looked vulnerable. Suddenly he unzipped his jeans, then hurriedly unzipped hers. His eyes filled with blatant desire as she bent over and took his cock into her hands. Misty images of Adrienne filtrated through her mind, orchestrating her lustful art on Wagner which now dictated what Myrna would do to Flynt now that he was under ‘her” control again. She used her warm lips to lick, ca
ress, and suck his cock. She remembered passages describing this act mainly in euphemism, but the visions remained.

  Lightly she slid her tongue over the base to the head of the shaft, flicked it over the top and down the underside, relishing his moans. She envisioned Adrienne, mimicking her movements, slipping the tip of his head into her mouth. Myrna sucked him deeper, all the while caressing him. An immense sense of power filled her knowing she could drive this man wild despite the rain, the thunder, even the mud. Slowly she began a slow rhythmic rocking of her body.

  "Babe, yes.... that feels good ... so good.... “His husky voice cracked with desire.

  She continued the slow sweet torture, then suddenly stopped. Straddling herself over his erect cock, she completely sheathed him. She was still in control, still knowing if she wanted she could delay his climax and cause him further delightful frustration.

  Thunder rolled in the distance. Warm sheathing rain washed away most of the mud from their bodies, but neither heard nor felt any of it, nothing except the heat of their bodies as they simultaneously climaxed.

  Moments later the beat of her heart sounded just like hooves pounding the rain soaked earth. They realized the sound was that of actual hooves and quickly broke apart, pulling on their clothing.

  Moments later the stable owner appeared with Pokey and Thunder in tow.

  "I thought you folks might need some help when I found these wandering two."

  "Do we need help?” Flynt asked, looking down at Myrna.

  "Well, a ride back to the stables would be nice. I think we've done enough walking this week.” She laughed.

  "Touché, Red."

  "You know, Albuquerque, you're a pretty good sport yourself."

  He planted a fast kiss on her mouth, then released her. He stood and came eye to eye with Thunder. The horse nuzzled him and whickered. Myrna could swear the beast was grinning at Flynt. With a glare at Thunder, he helped Myrna mount her horse, and he did the same. In the presence of his owner, Thunder seemed inclined to behave himself. They arrived back at the stables without incident and climbed into the Cherokee for the ride back to town.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Jonathan said a silent prayer of thanks that this intriguing fraud had witnessed his disgrace rather than Adrienne. Adrienne would not have gone into derisive hysterical glee at his dilemma, but would've left him sprawled there face down in the mud, going along on her merry way.

  But this lovely “imposter", yes she laughed, but with him, not at him. Judging from her response to his embrace, she accepted what happened and remained by his side, quietly supportive without scorn or criticism. The revelation clearly stunned him. Evidently, he had met a woman who was capable of seeing beyond his failings. Was it possible that he could be falling for her? He looked away, forcing himself to think logically. In spite of her appeal, this woman was still an imposter. She was still determined to some way to make a fool of him. How could he want to pursue a relationship with someone he couldn't trust? Or with a woman who had willingly been recruited to play out this charade?

  It'd been all so simple in the beginning. Uncovering the deception of which he'd been made a part. The rain had stopped, the sun making its appearance. Suddenly he wanted to get off this so-called see saw. And knew he could at any given moment, with just a few words, but then he'd risk losing her, and probably for good. He'd lose her by taking away her need to play out this charade, because then what reason would she have to stay? Yet, he wondered, just how far was she willing to go? He suspected he had just tapped the surface of her dark fantasies.

  * * * *

  Myrna stared blankly out at the countryside as they drove back to her place, unwilling or simply not ready to intrude upon Flynt's thoughtful silence. Every so often she would catch him studying her with such intensity, she had to wonder if he suspected anything. And with that possibility, regrets mounted with the realization of the repercussions that would undoubtedly arise when he discovered she was a fraud. Although the sex between them was more than fantastic, more than she could ever imagined, still she knew in the end it would not be enough to repair the damage her deceit would cause.

  Myrna had truly enjoyed spending time with Flynt in spite of the contrast between the image he projected and his actual clumsiness. He certainly was not the quintessential jock that he tried to portray, which meant that he might actually be some sort of fraud.. Myrna seriously doubted if Adrienne would have considered going out with someone like this even a second time.

  Thinking about it again, Flynt was the consummate lover. Myrna knew if Adrienne had any inkling of what the sex was like with this stranger there might be major competition between roommates.

  Suddenly, the thought of Adrienne returning and discovering Myrna's secret produced growing trepidation. She did not want to share Flynt with anyone, especially not with someone like her roommate. Once Flynt realized he could have someone like that, there would be no reason for him to want someone like Myrna.

  Myrna enjoyed his lack of finesse in his macho pursuits. It made him more human, less intimidating. The way he laughed at himself without a lot of posturing said a lot about his level of self-confidence. He knew who and what he was, and wasn't threatened by a debacle or two.

  When he pulled into her driveway, they sat there as if neither was quite sure what should come next.

  "Flynt why don't I cook dinner for us here,” she suddenly suggested. “You can shower and I'll wash your clothes."

  He laughed. “Just like in the movies, right?"

  "Well, I guess it depends on which movies you're talking about."

  "Oh, you know. Rock Hudson and Doris Day. Clarke Gable and Claudette Colbert, all those great old classics."

  You like those, too?"

  He hesitated. “Uh, yeah, when there's nothing better on, but with a few X-rated thrown in.” He winked at her.

  "Oh."

  "Listen Adrienne, I appreciate the offer, but I don't think it's such a good idea."

  "How old fashion of you."

  "Old fashion?” He laughed. “After what we've already shared? Enjoyed? It seems we've had our share of accidents though. The only times that doesn't happen is when we're having sex."

  Feeling the heat rise up her face, Myrna knew she was blushing. Turning her face away from his gaze, she thought of the jolt of electricity she'd experience by his touch, his kisses, and the heat of his body in the throe of passion. She thought of them together experiencing that ultimate pleasure. Whatever else Flynt Adams was, she knew he was one very special man. A man she really wanted to keep. The thought produced more concern than anything else. When he found out what she had originally planned to do, the deception she had willingly made herself a part of, there would be no reason for him to feel the same toward her. She suddenly pictured her cowboy getting back up on that horse named Thunder and high tailing it out at the first break of dawn.

  Again in her mind she heard his words to trust him. Inherent in those words, she also knew could lead to a place where she could finally live out the rest of her fantasy.

  CHAPTER TEN

  When Monday afternoon came and Flynt suggested to Myrna that they visit a local amusement park, this time her reply held little reluctance and she agreed, thinking this might be something she'd enjoy. After all if the kids in her story-hour group at the library could do it, why not she, even if had been years. Flynt, it appeared, still held much of the little boy in him, and the fact that he wanted to go made him that much more endearing.

  Once inside the park perimeters, she found herself taking more than one glance at some of what looked like death-defying rides. It reminded her that she'd forgotten that most kids had delusions of immortality.

  Upon Flynt's urgings, they ate a fast lunch of chili dogs and cotton candy.

  "That's something I've got to try before I leave here,” he told her, then immediately steered her toward the region's largest, fastest, and what had been advertised as one of the scariest roller coasters in the Northeas
t with an actual G-force rating. That raised a few red flags inside her brain, and at one point she actually began to hyperventilate.

  At fourteen she'd had her first date on a similar ride, its memory remaining more or less permanent in her mind. She had not only lost her lunch that day, but breakfast as well. That, more than any other event in her life had convinced her that she was a coward, that roller coasters were no place to impress a date; at least not green-faced, with her head hanging over the sides of a railcar. She hadn't been on one since.

  But now as her newfound cowboy-lover stared up at the skeletal steel mountains of the coaster with the wide-eyed wonder of a boy, her mind cried, Grow up! Obviously, the man lived for such thrills, and again remembered since she had cast herself in the role of try anything, do anything Adrienne Bennett, this was just one more item to add to her list.

  Cowardly Myrna Dunbar was simply going to have to grin and bear it for a while longer.

  Myrna shoved her hands into the back pocket of her jeans. Bit her lower lip as she followed Flynt into a line that had become increasingly long with avid death-defying thrill seekers.

  * * * *

  Jonathan studied her face. “It's been awhile since I rode one of these things, but I figure this would be right up your alley, Red.” Hoping against hope she would say no. Confess to him. Tell him who she really was. Why she had agreed in the first place to play this charade? And then have them both get on with their lives, which meant no rides of any kind on any roller coaster.

  Flynt Adams was stubborn, determined to expose this fraud, guessing by pushing her to get on that thing would accomplish his goal. He damn well did not look forward to getting on it.