Bucking Wild

by Maggie Monroe

  “Yes, yes. I’m here.”

  I darted from the bench and motioned to the stage hand to let them know I was making my way from behind the curtain. I was in a fog, but I was walking through it. I had to walk through it. I had to push the doubts and the fears to the side with vicious kicks and shoves, or else they would trap me and suffocate me into paralysis. And that wasn’t an option today.

  The three members of the ballet troupe auditions committee sat in the front row, each holding a clipboard. I hoped to see a familiar face—someone who would remember me from a year ago—but they were strangers.

  The man in the middle spoke. “It says here you are performing an original piece.”

  “Yes, that is correct.” I hoped my voice didn’t sound as shaky to them as it did in my head.

  I had been here before. Two years ago, I was a part of this exact audition. I had been selected from that performance and spent the year working to become prima ballerina. It almost seemed unfair that I had to start over, but I couldn’t focus on those things. Life wasn’t fair.

  I was stronger now. Stronger because I had to struggle. Stronger because I had to work through my injury. Stronger because I survived as a Goddess and made it on my own. Looking back, all of those things seemed so clear to me.

  “Are you ready to begin?” He pulled his glasses to the bridge of his nose and scribbled something on the paper. I wished he would make eye contact with me, but he was reading my bio.

  “I am. Thank you.” I pranced to the center of the stage and smiled when the lights dimmed.

  The fear evaporated as I raised my hands toward the ceiling and held my pose, waiting for the music to begin. I heard the slight crackle of the record before the piano and violin started.

  This was home. This was where I belonged. The music flared to a crescendo and I took off across the stage.

  ***

  It didn’t matter that it was March in Texas, the sun hit me in the face when I opened the back door to the theater. I dug through my bag for my sunglasses and walked across the parking lot.

  Sam stood with his feet planted solidly on the asphalt and his arms folded, making his biceps flex to epic proportions.

  “You’re killing me, here. Your face is blank.” He slid the aviator shades from his face. “What happened? How did it go?” He held my shoulders. “Natalia, say something.”

  I wasn’t sure who was more nervous going into the audition today, Sam or me.

  He had driven to Austin with me and we stayed in the same hotel where we had our first night together. He thought it might help with the jitters, and he was right.

  I looked up at him. His head blocked out most of the sun.

  “Well? Did they tell you? Are you in?” His voice was urgent.

  I bit my bottom lip before I cracked a smile. “Yes.” I jumped into his arms. “They loved the dance. I’m officially a professional ballerina again.”

  He held me close to his chest. “You had me freaking out, out here. You know that?”

  I giggled. I didn’t want him to put me down. “I love that you’re so nervous.”

  “I didn’t love it.” His brow pinched together in annoyance. “But I love that you made it. I’m so proud of you.”

  His lips were tender at first, but soon were kissing me hungrily. I sighed. “Not in the theater parking lot,” I warned.

  He laughed. “God, please don’t tell me the ballet has rules about you dating a Wrangler.”

  “It’s not so much that, but as the prima ballerina I need to keep a certain image.”

  “Holy shit! Natalia!” He spun me around. “Why didn’t you say that part first?”

  I shrugged. “I like keeping you on your toes.”

  He carried me to the passenger side of the car. “In you go.” He dropped me in the seat and closed the door.

  I waited for him to slide in behind the wheel. He shook his head. “I can’t believe it. We have to celebrate. Here, or do you want to head home?”

  I was too giddy to latch on to either idea.

  “You decide.”

  He pulled out of the parking lot. “I think I know the perfect spot.”

  He started driving west and I guessed we were headed back to our apartment. Since moving in together five months ago, Sam and I had been through our share of challenges.

  There’s nothing easy about moving in with someone, no matter how much you love them. We both discovered that the hard way. I was used to quiet, while Sam seemed to revel in the noise of football games and rock music.

  He wasn’t wrong about being an amazing cook, but he never mentioned that he didn’t clean the kitchen after he prepared a delicious meal. I don’t think I ever told him about my extensive fingernail polish collection that took up two drawers in the bathroom.

  But we figured it out. We learned how to move around each other, and to move together when it was right. I loved what we had. I loved the studio he built for me. I loved sharing a home with him, a bed, a life.

  I looked up from my phone. “Wait, a minute. Is this?” I recognized the turn off road he had taken.

  “What do you think it is?”

  I chewed my bottom lip. “What if they don’t have a cabin? What if it’s booked?”

  He looked at me over his sunglasses. “Darlin’, it’s March. I don’t think anyone is tubing down the Guadalupe right now. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything.”

  The gravel crunched under the tires as he parked under the same scrubby oak tree. I looked over at Cottage 11.

  “Wait? Did you already plan something?” I was suspicious. He had driven past the reservation office.

  He shrugged. “Let’s see.”

  I closed the door behind me and looked out over the lake. It was a gorgeous spring day, but the sun was setting on the edge of the lake and the hues of deep orange and pink were stunning.

  “Look at this, Sam.”

  He circled the car and took my hand. “It didn’t look like that last time we were here, did it?”

  “No. I left in the morning. It seems even more amazing now.”

  “I’ll grab the bags from the back.”

  “Would you mind if I made a quick call out here?”

  He opened the trunk. “I’ll get these inside. Take your time.”

  I pulled out my phone. There was one person I needed to tell about what happened today. I scrolled through my contacts and tapped her number. I knew with the time difference I was calling late, but I hoped she would answer.

  “Hello?”

  I smiled when I heard her voice.

  “Madame Collette, it’s Natalia.”

  “Natalia, my dear. It’s so late. Is something wrong?”

  “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t wake you. I had news I wanted to share with you.”

  “Ma chérie, it’s good to hear your voice. It’s never too late.”

  I could picture her. Her hair pulled back in a dark bun. I never knew how old she was—she kept her age concealed with frequent trips to the hair salon and excellent skin care. She was like most French women—elegant and flawless.

  “You too. I’m sorry I haven’t called more often.”

  “Tell me. What is your news?”

  It was wonderful to share today with Sam. I wouldn’t trade his support for anything, but this woman had raised me in ballet. She had held my hand through shin splints and twisted ankles. She had taught me how to choreograph an entire routine. And when my parents told me they were divorcing, she was the one who let me cry on her shoulder. She was strict, and at times arrogant, but I loved her.

  “Madame Collette, I made prima ballerina today.” I leaned against the car and watched as a pair of geese flew close enough to let their wings skim the water’s surface.

  “Oui, oui, such wonderful news.” She was quiet. “I knew you would be back on stage.”

  “I didn’t.” I spoke quietly.

  “You are too talented of a ballerina, Natalia. And one day you can be like me. Te
aching those to dance.”

  I grinned. I doubted I could be half the instructor she was. “I’d like to think so.”

  I tried to imagine what that life would be like. Would I retire from the ballet and open my own dance studio? Would Sam be there? Would we stay in San Antonio or leave if he were traded to another team? My head swam with all the possibilities.

  “Au revoir, my sweet. Thank you for the call.”

  “Au revoir. I’ll call more often. I promise.”

  I hung up and stuffed the phone into my pocket and turned to face the cottage. Sam was waiting for me inside.

  I climbed the small steps. When I pushed open the door, my breath caught under my ribs. “Oh my God.”

  Everything was the same as our first night here. There were flowers and candles, and a crackling fire in the fireplace. It was the same except for the man down on one knee holding a diamond ring between his fingers.

  “Before I say anything or you say anything, I want you to know I planned this for you whether or not you made the troupe.”

  I nodded, speechless and shaky. I stumbled closer to him. I wanted to hear everything he had to say. I wasn’t about to interrupt this perfect moment.

  I lowered to the floor, taking his face between my hands. His gorgeous, chiseled face. The one that had me from night one. I looked into his gray eyes as the tears gathered at the corners of my lashes.

  “Don’t cry. I haven’t even started yet.” He cleared his throat.

  I laughed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Okay. This is what I want to say.” He kissed the center of my palm and held my hand against his cheek as if he needed my strength to get the words out.

  “It’s been an incredible year. We’ve had to face some of the hardest defeats in our careers. The Wranglers didn’t make it to the championship. You were fired from the Warriors. That entire media bullshit—that was all my fault.”

  “Hey, this isn’t sounding very positive.”

  He closed his eyes. “I’m going somewhere with this, I promise.” His eyes gazed into mine. “But despite all of the damn noise, we met. And it didn’t seem to matter that I had rules, or you had rules. We broke through all of them to be together.”

  I smiled. “We did.”

  “And when your training schedule picked up and mine slowed down, we figured it out.”

  I laughed. “Only because you used your bonus to buy an airplane to shuttle me back and forth to Austin. With an on-call pilot,” I added.

  “It worked, didn’t it?” His tone was serious.

  I nodded. “It did work.”

  It was probably the thing that kept us most grounded. With a quick twenty-minute commute, I didn’t feel as if we were ever far from each other. Once I was kicked off the Goddesses, I started traveling when the Wranglers traveled. Sam and I made sure we never spent more than three days apart. That was our new rule—and we’d never broken it.

  I realized he had done everything in his power to make me happy. He had built the studio the way I wanted. He had hired a physical therapist to complete my rehab. He had paired me with an astonishingly talented choreographer, despite all my protests. He did what he wanted to do, but it was all because he loved me.

  “You know that’s why I’m down on one knee right now. Because we work. We know how to make it work.” He held the ring closer to me. “I want our future to be together. Will you marry me, Natalia?”

  I took in the moment. The fire. The flickering candles. The flowers everywhere. And here we were at one of our most romantic spots, where we had spent an incredibly intimate night together. It was the night he let me soak in an enormous tub of overflowing bubbles. It was the night I had told him about my accident. It was the night I knew I was in love with him.

  I sighed. “Today is the day I’ve waited for since I fell.” I focused on the depths of his eyes. “And the only reason it happened is because of you. You made me put on those pointe shoes when I’d been scared to for months. You wouldn’t let me stop rehab. You gave me the best choreographer in the business.” I giggled. “And you bought me a plane.

  “Because of you, I made prima ballerina today. I have my dream back.” I looked down at the ring. I had been too consumed by his words to really notice it until now. Holy shit, it was the size of Texas.

  “So is that a yes?”

  I threw my arms around his neck. “In every language. In every way it’s possible to say it. It’s a yes.”

  His lips covered mine and I groaned from the intensity of his kiss. It was always like this with Sam. He always made my body feel fire and air at the same time. He made me feel protected and loved. And we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. I sucked at the corners of his mouth, lingering over his firm lips.

  “Try it on,” he whispered.

  “Oh right.” My body was already moving with his and flush with anticipation. I had forgotten about the ring.

  I held my left hand forward as he slipped it over my ring finger. It sparkled in the candlelight.

  “It’s perfect.” I admired the stone on my hand.

  “It’s big enough, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “Sam, are you kidding? It’s bigger than big.” I could feel the weight of the platinum circle my finger.

  “Good. I want everyone to know you’re my wife. That you belong to me.”

  I crawled into his lap. “I do belong to you.” I pressed my forehead to his. “I’ll always belong to you.”

  His arms circled my waist and I pressed my lips to his. I’d never been this happy. I’d never felt such love and warmth.

  “And what about you?” I teased. “How big a ring do you want?”

  He looked at me. “I have to wear a ring? I’ve got this one.” He held up his right hand, showing off his national championship ring from last year.

  I nodded. “Oh yes. Not during the game, of course. Or practices. I understand that. But I want everyone to know you are this ballerina’s husband.”

  He tugged at the back of my hair, dragging his lips over my throat. My breath quickened. I loved how it felt when he held me in his arms. When he directed my movements. When he created the dance between us. I was ready to burst into flames thinking about his next step. How he would position my body. How it would feel when we were taking each other, owning each other, promising ourselves to each other with a new commitment between us.

  “If the ballerina wants me to wear a ring, I’ll wear it,” he growled behind my ear, kissing my skin roughly. I shivered.

  “Yes, I want you to wear a ring.” I bit my lower lips as he pushed the shirt off my shoulder.

  “Deal.” His hands skidded under my shirt, pushing my bra over my head with it.

  He grinned widely. “You know what I’m going to do now?”

  I licked my lips. I could only hope. “What?”

  “Fuck you with nothing but that diamond on.”

  I sighed as he picked me up from the floor and carried me to the bed. I watched silently as he peeled my pants over my legs, doing exactly what he promised. Was this happening? Was I engaged to a man who I had given my body to so freely, my heart tumbling quickly after?

  Sam threw his shirt on the floor and I eyed him hungrily as he stepped out of his jeans. This man was going to be my husband. The father of my children. My life.

  We would decide everything together. Our lives would forever be entwined.

  I looked into his wickedly handsome eyes as he crawled on top of me.

  “We’re getting married,” I whispered.

  “We are.” He lowered his tongue to my breast and flicked the tip over my nipple. I arched toward him. “You’re going to be my wife.”

  “Ohh,” I moaned. I’d never realized what a sexy word wife was in English.

  He sucked it into his mouth and I felt the deep coiling in my belly start to tighten. My hips began to move.

  He kissed me, as he settled between my legs. I was soaking with want and need. With a thirst I’d never had for him
before. I wanted my fiancé to melt into my skin. Get lost with me in our desire. Climb and crawl against each other until we couldn’t breathe anymore. I wanted the friction of his skin, and the smell of his sweat to cover me. I wanted all of his cock inside of me, making me his, owning me in a new way.

  With Sam, my body was free and beautiful. We fed each other’s need for raw and primal energy. We matched each other’s steps. Pushed each other’s stamina. Took what we wanted, and gave each other everything.

  He hovered over me as I dug my heels against the firmness of his ass. He was torturing me with his cock, gliding it back and forth against my clit. I whimpered for his release.

  “You know I want you, Sam.” I panted.

  “And I’ve never wanted you this much,” he groaned.

  I tempted him with a gentle rocking motion, trying to draw him inside.

  He kissed me. “Does it drive you crazy if I do this?” He barely pushed into me.

  “Oh, God, oui.” I tried even harder this time, but he was stronger than I was.

  “Or this.” He eased at my entrance then jerked away.

  “I can’t.” My head rolled to the side. “I want you too much.”

  The ache inside was deep and hollow, tearing at me from all angles. I was blinded with a delirious and frantic craving. I could only hear the desperate beat of my heart. Feel the desire consume me from within. Time and space had left me and my body yearned for fullness. I wanted the satisfaction of Sam pushing inside me. I wanted the heat and the dirty words that would spring from our mouths. I needed him to move me and push me. Show me what my body could do for him. How I could make him whole again.

  “Tell me,” he demanded. His eyes flared with cockiness as he bit his lip. “Tell me how you want me to fuck you. Tell me to fuck you the rest of your life. Tell me to fuck you slow and deep.”

  My nipples hardened and tingled. My clit pulsed and my core quivered into a pool of lava. He had me where he wanted me. He had me wanting him. Needing him.

  He let the head of his cock slide through my slick folds once again until I was raging with animal thirst for him.

  I locked on his eyes. “All of it, Sam. Please. All of it. With this ring, fuck me with only this ring on, because I’m yours and only yours. And don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”