by Mary Winter
Tanner groaned. He pulled her skirt up until her ass rested against the cool wall. He stroked the edge of her thong. “Fuck,” he growled. “You’re going to kill me.” He slid his fingers lower, finding her wet and ready for him. “Oh yeah, killing me.”
She grinned against his neck and gave a gentle love nip. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, “I know how to ride western.”
He pushed the edge of her thong aside to brush her wet folds with his knuckle. He found her nub and stroked it, a back and forth that had her writhing against him. They weren’t making it upstairs to her bedroom. Not when she ached to have his finger, his cock…anything inside her. Her breath came in short pants, the smell of her own arousal filling her nostril. She had to touch him.
She fumbled with his belt buckle, finally freeing the clasp. She unbuttoned his jeans and gently slid down the zipper. His cock surged against the fabric of his underwear, and she curled her fingers around his hot length.
Tanner groaned.
Avery licked her lips, her mouth watering for a taste of him. With gentle hands, she freed him and curled her fingers around his length, stroking from base to tip. Her thumb brushed the drops of fluid on the tip, smoothing them into his skin. She lifted her thumb to her lips and tasted him.
“Two can play at that game.” He shoved her thong down so it wound around her knees, then slipped his fingers past her slick labia to gather her juices. He brought his fingers to his mouth, licking as if he had an ice cream on a hot day. “Mmm, delicious.” He held his fingers out to her. “Want to taste?”
How could she say no when he was nudging her thighs apart, and all she could think about was getting his cock inside of her. Leaning forward, she licked his fingers, the unique flavor of her cream not unpleasant. “I’d much rather be licking you.” She grabbed his wrist and brought his hand to her mouth to treat his index finger like his cock, swirling her tongue around the end before drawing it completely into her mouth. She sucked hard enough to make his hips buck.
He pulled back enough to bend down and pull her panties off her legs. Grabbing the back of her thigh, he lifted it along his hips, his cock brushing her sensitive skin. “I want you right now.” Grabbing her ass, he lifted her so she wrapped her legs around his hips. A bit of adjustment and then the head of his cock touched her swollen labia, pushing past them until he seated himself inside her. One thrust brought him all the way.
She cried out at the spasm of pleasure that contracted her muscles around him. Grabbing his shoulders, she ground against him.
Tanner thrust hard and deep, making her cry out each time he slid home. Clinging to him, she rode his thrusts, the pleasure peaking inside her. With her inner muscles tightening, her skin zinging from his touch, she could only hold on as he drove her higher and higher. Heat radiated from where he touched her. Sweat beaded on her skin. Still, she focused on the man in front of her, his marvelous hands and cock as they pushed her toward the pinnacle of release. With one, final thrust he ground against her, the pressure against her clit sending her over the edge. She cried out as her body spasmed around his, drawing him even deeper inside her. A moment later he followed, a hoarse shout and the pulses of his cock as he spilled inside her announcing his own satisfaction.
For long moments he held her pinned between his body and the wall, their panting breaths gradually slowing. Avery became aware of the cool wall against her back, the way her thighs strained from clamping into him. “Upstairs?” she whispered, turning to nuzzle and kiss his neck.
“Yeah.” He gently supported her while she lowered her legs and moved away from the wall. “Your bedroom?”
She nodded, scooping her thong up with a flush of heat across her cheeks. She’d never done anything like that before, yet Tanner made her want to rip off his clothes, lay him down on her dining room table, and have his way with her. As she led him to the stairs, she realized just how sticky her inner thighs were with their juices. Protection. They hadn’t used it. At least she was on the pill due to hormonal stuff, but damn, she never let things get too far for safety. She led him up the stairs and to the door at the end of the hall that led to her bedroom.
A whinny from outside caught her attention. The bright yard flood light was on—motion detected—and she cursed under her breath as she dropped her skirt and automatically reached for a pair of jeans, thankful they were boot cut. Glancing at Tanner, she realized he’d righted his pants; he must have done that before following her upstairs. She glanced out the window to see Silvestre trotting around, somehow having escaped his pen.
She cursed again. “Silvestre’s out.” She yanked on her jeans and bolted for the door, any residual arousal rapidly fading away. Behind her, Tanner’s feet on the stair treads echoed. She hit the front door at a dead run, pausing only to grab the extra halter and lead rope she’d kept on the porch in case of emergencies just like this. “Go to the barn. Get me a bucket of grain.” She’d worked with him for a while, but had no idea if he’d follow for food. She hoped so.
Tanner nodded and she watched him just long enough to make sure he headed to the barn.
Stopping just beyond the front steps, she took a deep breath to calm herself. Racing at this formerly wild colt wouldn’t do either of them any good, and with the road too close for comfort, might make the situation worse. She stepped forward, moving with purpose, an “I’m going to catch you” determination in her gaze.
Silvestre stopped. The colt’s tail flagged, indicating his high spirits. He probably thought this was a great game. He snorted and shook his head.
“Hey, handsome,” Avery spoke in a calming tone of voice, never mind that her stomach rolled with the power of a thousand butterflies. “You exploring?” She held out her hand as if she had a treat in it, something he’d started to recognize.
The colt lowered his head.
“Good boy,” she crooned, getting closer. At last, she laid her hand on his shoulder, noticing it was wet with sweat. She wondered how long he’d been running free while she’d been enjoying herself with Tanner. “That’s my boy.” She slid the lead rope around his neck, holding it and moved to slip the halter over his nose.
A motorcycle roared past on the highway.
Silvestre jerked his head, pulling both the halter and lead rope out of Avery’s hands. She cursed at the sting of rope burn and lunged for the colt. He lunged, not for the barn or his corral, but for the road. Avery bolted after him, pausing to scoop up the halter and lead rope when it slid off the colt a few paces away. “Tanner,” she called.
“Here.” He shoved the bucket of grain into her hands and triangulated the colt’s position, working to intercept him and the road.
Avery shook the bucket. “Silvestre. Hey handsome. Food.” Through gulps of air, she worked to bring her energy back to normal. “Hey buddy. Supper.” She shook the bucket again.
The colt stopped, ears pricked.
Avery nodded, noticing Tanner had made his way between the colt and the road, and he’d had the foresight to loop halter and lead rope over his shoulder. He held something else in his hand, and she realized it was a rope, which he began to twirl into loops. Oh god, he was going to try to cowboy her wild colt!
“Silvestre. Dinner.” She kept the bucket outstretched, shaking it so he could hear, and hopefully smell, the grain inside. She was thankful he’d grabbed from the bin of sweet feed, which she used as a treat and not the colt’s regular pellets. The molasses oats and corn would be far more tempting.
Silvestre stepped forward.
“Good boy.” She gave the bucket another shake.
He stepped forward again, stopping when a car zoomed past. Muscles quivering, he glanced to the road, then to her and the bucket. He lowered his head, then bolted.
“Damn it,” she growled, hurrying after him with the bucket. “Silvestre,” she called, but it was too late. The colt had enough, and began bucking across the driveway.
Tanner swung the rope.
Avery stopped, holding her brea
th as it settled over the colt’s head, sliding down towards the place where his neck met his chest. The colt skidded as the rope pulled tight, then pulled and twisted, trying to free himself. She hurried closer, thinking what horrible memories of his roundup and transfer at the hands of the BLM must be going through his mind. She paused just beyond the reach of his hooves, and as soon as he stopped, she slipped the halter over his head, and stood there, rubbing on his neck, both of them panting hard.
Tanner put slack in the rope, but didn’t let go.
Silvestre shoved his nose into the bucket and nibbled.
“Good boy. Let’s get you back.” Slowly, since she hadn’t worked with him on leading, she led him back to his corral, his nose in the bucket the entire time.
Thankfully the colt, like most horses, followed his food, and he was in his pen where Avery dumped the rest of the feed into his pan so he could be rewarded. She unhooked the lead rope, but left the halter on just in case, and helped Tanner unfasten his rope so it fell free from the colt’s neck. Avery leaned against the corral wall and sighed, her knees shaking from adrenaline.
“Oh god. I thought I was going to lose him.” She bit her lip, wanting so badly to wrap her arms around the colt’s neck and hug him, but also knowing he was still too wild for that yet, though clearly they were making progress. She turned to Tanner. “Thank you.” She grabbed him and hugged him, knowing if he hadn’t been there she might have lost her colt. “Thank you.”
He held her tight and something shifted within her. When she pulled back and left Silvestre to clean up the last morsels in peace, she double checked the latch to make sure it was tight. He handed her the halter and lead rope he’d grabbed from the barn, and she deposited it on the spare hook on her porch as they made their way back into the house.
“Just glad I was here to help.” He set his rope on the chair by the door and kicked off his boots. “You’ve got your work cut out for you with the colt.”
“Yeah I do,” she agreed, pouring herself a glass of water and offering one to him, wishing she had a bottle of wine or something stronger. She felt like she needed it. “But you were here. My hero. My cowboy hero.”
Tanner chuckled. “I don’t know about that, but I am glad I was here, and not just because we made love.”
The casual way he used the words made her heart flutter. “Me too. Want to go back upstairs and finish what we started?” She finished her drink and reached for his hand.
Tanner tangled his fingers with hers, pulling her into his arms. “Can I use my rope?” His warm breath teased the shell of her ear.
Avery shuddered at the image of herself tied up and at his mercy. “Only if I get to ride you hard first.” Her pussy clenched at the thought of straddling his hips and taking his cock inside her.
His husky chuckle made her insides tremble as he led her to the stairs, as did the fact that he picked up her rope. He may have come to her rescue with the horse, but she realized this cowboy may have roped her good—and she didn’t want to break free. They shed clothes all the way up the stairs, and when they reached her bedroom door, she pulled him inside. Time to make good on both of their promises as they tumbled onto the bed together.
2 HEARTS RESCUE
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About The Author
Mary lives in the Ozarks on a homestead with her spoiled horses, a flock of highly entertaining chickens, a not-so-itty-bitty-kitty-committee, and her husband. Her first published novel, Ghost Touch, was released in December 2002–back when you had to explain to people what an ebook was. Since then she’s written more than the fifty novels/novellas in multiple genres of romance under a few pen names, as well as nonfiction books under yet another pen name.
In addition, she runs Unscramblet Author Solutions, helping authors unscramble their “to do” lists and their promotions. Learn more at http://unscramblet.com
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Have you read this book from the 2 Hearts Rescue South series?
Erin Salcietto focused on one thing--dressage. In high school her horses were her refuge, as an adult they allowed her the work she loved training and raising horses, as well as operating Two Hearts Rescue South in Missouri, the counterpoint to the main Two Hearts Rescue ranch in Wyoming. She hadn't thought about her best friend's brother, high school quarterback turned assistant football coach at the local college, Bryan Dent, but when he shows up at one of her shows, the sparks fly.
Bryan had always wanted Erin, but had thought she was too smart, too focused for him. In high school he'd been the jock, coasting by on his good looks and football skills. Now that he was an assistant coach with a winning football team, he'd achieved all his goals--or so he thought. A chance encounter with Erin reignites old flames, and soon, this jock is wondering how he fits into the Dressage Queen's world, because he really wants to. And it's important that he proves to her that he's more than just a former high school jock.
A portion of the proceeds from this book is donated to animal rescue causes and animal rescue efforts.
Get this book for 99 cents or free on Kindle Unlimited.
Excerpt
His sister dismounted and led Pokey in his direction. “It’ll be a bit before they announce the scores,” she said. “Let’s go back to the barn.”
“Okay.” A few moments later, he heard his sister’s name over the loud speaker followed by a score. She smiled and threw a hug around her horse’s neck, who to his credit managed to look bemused. “Is that good?” He smiled at her. Three years younger than his thirty-seven, she had her long blonde hair gathered in some sort of net beneath her black helmet. In her black jacket, white breeches and knee-high boots, she looked smart and kind of English. She reminded him of Erin Salcietto from school. She’d been all about her books and her horses, way too high brow to spend time with the quarterback of the three-time state champion winning football team.
“Very good. It’s our personal best.” Lindy beamed at him.
That he understood, about making a personal best during an outing. “Great. I’m happy for you.” As if his thoughts conjured had conjured ghosts of the past, he h
eard Erin’s name over the loudspeaker. “Just a moment.” He turned and strode toward the arena, just catching his sister’s bemused expression.
She was through the opening part of the test from what he could tell when he took his place by the rail. Her big grey horse moved effortlessly through the movements; Erin made it look so easy. He was afraid to say it, but she looked better than his sister in a couple of places. Her circles were rounder, her transitions more precisely on the letter. He may not know about this sport. He did know sports and such things mattered, whether it was football or equestrian pursuits.
Her caramel blonde hair was pulled back with a small silver clip and attached hair net. He supposed it created a clean and polished look, though it made him want to remove the helmet and the ribbon tie and see if her hair spilled over her shoulders. Her stern look could be called resting bitch face. He called it laser focus and admired it in an athlete. From white gloved hands to a coat with polished silver buttons, white pants and knee-high gleaming boots she gave an air of perfection. He remembered that from school too. She’d accept no less from herself, and he supposed from those around her, which was why she’d been mostly alone.
He’d longed to muss her up. That she didn’t go to prom or other social events only whetted his appetite. He hadn’t seen her at sporting events, either. The ice princess who would rather play with her horses than football players, or at least that’s what a few members of the team had called her. The ice princess. She’d grown up, and if anything, she was an Ice Queen, and he wanted to thaw that frozen exterior to see what lay beneath.
She finished her test. He didn’t see anyone at the gate, no trainer or groom, or even a friend waiting for her. He moved to the gate and smiled at her as she exited. “Need someone to hold your horse while you get off.” He knew he didn’t use the right term and vowed to pay more attention to his sister.
