by Blue Remy
“You shouldn’t.” Amy pulled out the solid black scarf from the back pocket of her shorts. Hands snapped it taut, then wrung it around her hands while she circled him. Not giving him a chance to say anything, she lifted the scarf over his head, pressing her chest into his back as she placed the fabric over his eyes. Amy felt him tense against her.
“You’re playing a dangerous game here, Amy.” His voice was thick when he spoke, and reached back to run his hand along her bare thigh.
“Nuh uh.” Amy smacked his hand playfully, then pushed it off her. She tied the scarf and stepped around him, waving a hand in front of his face.
“No, I can’t see. I can feel you waving your hand in front of my face though.”
Amy stuck out her tongue, knowing he couldn’t see her do it. “Take my hand.” She held out her hand when he lifted his up, allowing him to clasp it as his fingertips grazed the top of her hand. She couldn’t stop the tiniest of shivers from racing down her spine while she led him toward a stall.
“Where are you taking me? There better not be some secret dungeon in this bitch and I’m just now finding out about it.” Mace grumbled.
“Nope, but that is a pretty good idea. I’ll need to remember to ask Dad to build me one.” Amy snickered, finally coming to a stop outside a stall. She let go of his hand, allowing him to remove the scarf from his eyes. “Surprise. Happy birthday.”
Mace blinked a couple of times, allowing his eyes to get accustomed to the lack of lighting.
Amy clucked her tongue and reached into the stall, lifting the head of Phaedra’s colt. “He’s yours.” She knew how much Mace had fallen in love with the horse over the past couple of weeks and it was the best gift she could give him.
His eyes grew wide as he repeatedly shook his head. “No, Amy. That’s too much. I won’t take him. He’s your best foal of the season.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer, Mace. I know how much you’ve come to love him. It’s not every day you come across coloring like this.”
He stared at her like she had lost her mind. “Exactly, It’s too much, Ames. I can’t take him.”
He was right on that account. He was expensive. He was a fifty thousand dollar horse from champion bloodlines, but there was no money that could match the reason she wanted him to have the colt. “It’s settled. He’ll stay here, we’ll train him together, but he belongs to you. Period.”
“You’re fucking insane, Amethyst.”
“Don’t change the subject, Mason. You knew that when I knocked your ass to the floor.” She won that little squabble. He didn’t put up much of a fight, which was fine with her.
“I’d like to see you try it again.” Mace outright challenged her.
Amy loved a good challenge and she was going to accept it. “Challenge accepted, Mason Younger.” She reached up and grabbed the ends of the scarf around his neck. Head tilted back enough to look deep into his pale blue eyes, she saw so many questions there and something else she couldn’t put her finger on, but it almost looked like hurt. “Are you sure you want to go there?”
His voice was barely audible, feral and low. “I think I do.”
“I don’t.” She jumped away from him with a half snort, half giggle. She wasn’t going to give in so easily; he was going to work for it.
He grabbed for her.
She jumped back, “That’s not fair!” Darting out of reach, she yelped when he gave chase after her. Squeaking in surprise when she felt her arm in a vice lock, he whirled her around to face him. His eyes were lit with unspoken desire, causing her breath to catch. He forced her back with slow steps, a grin forming on his kissable lips. When they came to a stop, his head bent, the very tip of his nose caressing her cheek while he made his way to her earlobe.
“Don’t move.” The order was a breath against her ear, her stomach turning somersaults at the throaty growl. He stepped back.
She wanted to squirm under his gaze while it slowly roamed over her. It was pure, exquisite torture. He wasn’t even touching her and she felt her body tightening from his hooded gaze.
Mace pulled the scarf from around his neck, a secret smile forming as he stepped toward her. Dear God, was he about to do what she thought he was going to? Her heart skipped a beat when he placed the scarf over her eyes, tying it securely at the base of her skull. “Mace?”
She couldn’t hide the uncertainty in her voice. This was new and exciting territory for her. She reached back, the flat of her palms hitting the prickly wall, catching her off guard. Her breath hitched when Mace pushed her fully against it.
“Do you trust me, Amethyst?”
His breath tickled the tiny hairs at her temple, eyes closing at the sound of his voice so close to her, and yet it wrapped around her like a warm blanket. “Yes.” It may have been only a one word answer, but it spoke volumes.
She heard movement, then a loud click from something metal. She tensed, she couldn’t help it. Lips parted in a quick inhale, nails dug into the wood, unsure what was in store for her. Feeling the bottom of her shirt being grabbed and pulled out, head canted just enough in question. That was when she felt cold metal against her belly.
Before she could utter any protest, the fabric of her shirt tore. Feeling it tug against her body, she cried out in a mixture of surprise and delight. Her hands flew up to cover her exposed bikini top, but he caught them before she could hide herself from view.
“Amy, you said you trusted me.”
She licked her lips, biting her bottom tier with a nod of her head. “I do, I promise.”
“Then let me have control.”
Those five words were whispered against her lips, warm against her slick mouth. Amy bent her head forward, trying to find his lips with her own, but he wasn’t there. Letting her head fall back against the wall, she lowered her arms.
Stomach muscles jumped involuntarily when she felt the blade against her, right above her waistline. Her skin was alive, sensitive to everything around her. He moved in front of her, his arm next to her face, his hand against the wall next to her head. His breath blew, slow and even against her cheek. The tip of the blade moved with aching slowness up her rib cage, her muscles straining not to flinch, every fiber in her wanting to squirm in secret pleasure.
The back of her head pushed into the wall, forcing her to arch, pushing out her chest toward Mace. A whimper escaped, she was unable to stop the sound of delight as control was taken from her bit by bit. The blade ran gently along the underside of her breast, nicking the leather edge of her bikini top, stopping at the center of her breastbone. Another sound made it past her lips, a strangled, cut off moan when his tongue traced along her shoulder, blowing cool air against her hot skin.
Mace breathed against her collarbone as he jerked his wrist, the blade slicing through the leather string that held her top closed.
The air was cold against her, her body temperature spiking with adrenaline racing through her. Her skin grew tight, nipples hardened to tiny buds as his movement stirred the air around her.
The blindfold ignited her senses. The possibility anyone could spot them was even hotter, forcing more fire through her. Amy trembled when Mace’s fingers skimmed her flesh like a feather, brushing the leather aside, a whisper of fabric as it fell to her feet.
Mace’s mouth seared her flesh everywhere he kissed, leading a slow trail down her breastbone. His tongue swirled around the peak of her aching breast and she drew a sharp breath. Musky aftershave, crisp soap and leather assaulted her, tugging her desire deeper.
His teeth took hold of her hardened nipple and tugged with fervor, undoing her self-control when his tongue flicked over the bruised bud. Hands flew up to cradle his head, only to be shoved aside.
“No touching. Not yet.”
She was already on the brink by the way he touched her. His mouth blazed a trail across her breastbone while his fingers traced down her ribs. The sound of the blade hitting the floor released a shuddered breath from her. Squirming under his touch, s
he stilled when two of his fingers dipped under the waistband of her shorts.
“What do you want?” Mace’s mouth moved against her as he asked the inevitable.
Back arched, wanting his mouth to attack her once more. A nail broke when she curled her fingers against the barn wall, trying not to grab him and toss him to the floor to have her way with him. His mouth left her skin, causing her to whimper in protest.
“Answer me. What do you want?” The tip of his tongue lazily traced her collarbone; her muscles jumped against the soft touch.
“You,” was all her voice could muster, her mind on sensory overload. His laughter was nothing more than panting against her skin while his mouth began its slow trek down the middle of her body. Deft fingers unbuttoned her pants with a single hand while his other crept up the back of her thigh, sliding under the hem of her shorts to cup the edge of her ass.
The sound of her zipper lowering was an explosion when he tugged it with painstaking slowness. His mouth followed the direction of the zipper, over her satin panties, stopping above the delta of her thighs.
Mace released his hold, his calloused hands sliding along her hips, pushing his hands between her panties and the shorts, lifting her hips away from the wall. Palms cupped her perfectly, giving her a quick squeeze before he pushed the fabric to the floor. Amy couldn’t help but giggle nervously when he guided her out of her shorts. That came to a quick end when his hands grazed her calves, his nails gently scraping up the back of her legs, stopping at the crest of her ass cheeks.
Amy writhed against his hands as his palms pressed against her hips, his thumbs hooking under the string of her panties. The hemline of the satin underwear grew tight against her abdomen when he pulled the elastic strings away from her sides. She smelled her desire for him when he let go of the hem, the snap against her skin stinging, pushing her one step closer to losing total control of her ability to keep herself upright.
Her legs vibrated from the intensity of his touch and her need for him to sate her hunger thickened. Her body was slick with sweat, but none of that mattered when she felt his whiskered cheek brush over the sensitive sweet spot at the very junction of her core. She whimpered in sheer agony when his tongue swept over the damp satin; his hands pushed her legs further apart.
Cold steel against her inner thigh caused her to twitch and gasp. The tip of the blade quartered the satin where the hip met the inner corner crease of her thigh. Her chest rose and fell with her quick breaths, every nerve ending sparked with his tongue sweeping over her wet folds.
She felt the very tip of his tongue tease her, then flatten out, spreading her open for him when he suckled her clit into his mouth. “Shit!” Her hips bucked against his mouth as his tongue pushed into her spot, shattering what tiny control she had left. His hand pushed her leg up, allowing her to hook it over his shoulder and draw him closer to her.
She felt him grunt against her, the vibration of his lips making her hiss and grind on his mouth, urging him to keep going. His tongue thrust back and forth, flicking over the sensitive flesh; he growled like a man on a mission. Heat spread through Amy, her hips had a mind of their own, writhing against him; tiny pricks of pain a welcome reprieve from the onslaught of his mouth.
She was going to cum if he didn’t stop and she did not want to go over that edge yet. “Please…” Amy gasped, her hands moving through his hair, fingers tightening around strands.
Mace stopped, “Please what?”
His voice was low and husky, the feral sound of salacity thick against her apex. “Not this way, please.” She begged and she didn’t care. She wanted to feel him, every damn inch of him buried deep inside her. She needed to feel full, to know he was claiming her as his own.
He kept her leg on his shoulder as the sound of his belt buckle filled her ears, followed by the echo of his zipper coming down and the wrestling of his pants fully opening. He shifted, dropping her leg to the crook of his elbow, exposing her more to him.
Amy felt him position himself, his silken tip pushing against her, begging her to let him inside. Inch by agonizing inch, Mace pushed deeper inside. Her hands flew to his chest, fingers digging into his skin as she thrust her hips down on him, her body convulsing. She felt her walls clench against the thick throbbing shaft, sending her into a maelstrom of ecstasy, her orgasm immediate.
Teeth sank against her collarbone as Mace’s hips jerked and thrust against her, his other arm sweeping her leg out from under her, positioning her so she rubbed perfectly against his pelvic bone. He was going to make her climax again with the way he pounded his hips against her.
Her hips matched timing opposite of his, and she reached down between them, fingers spreading her wider, rubbing against the most sensitive spot, urging her body to peak again.
“Fuck.” Mace gasped before his mouth claimed hers. His tongue pushed into her like a piston, her taste on him was vinous, making her want more. She matched his intensity, her tongue battling his as her fingers rubbed harder against her flesh, her nails grazing his exposed shaft before he sank back into her.
Amy felt him swelling, veins pulsing against her walls, a heat wave washing through her as her body grew tight. His mouth tore from hers, teeth nipping at her nipples, tugging and sucking the tips into his mouth. She couldn’t stop from crying out, panting uncontrollably and moaning while his hips bucked against her, their bodies in perfect sync.
His grunts were music to her ears, his body jerking, stilling, then twitching, until he collapsed against her. Mace’s breathing was labored as her arms wrapped around him, holding him against her.
“Holy shit. The whole fucking state needs a cigarette after that.”
Amy tried not to laugh, but couldn’t help it. She gasped, at how sensitive she was, and she wasn’t the only one; he grunted and chortled, twitching against her. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Don’t be,” he removed the blindfold. Blinking several times, she smiled, seeing he was still fully dressed. “And I’m the only naked one why?”
He grinned and slowly released her legs, placing her feet on the ground. “How about I strip and race you to go take a shower?”
“Oh, I like that idea.” She wanted to pout, feeling empty now that he had stepped away from her, but her legs nearly gave way, forcing him to scoop her up and carry her to the house.
CHAPTER 17
Hot damn. His abs were freaking killing him and his thighs burned. Mace felt like he lifted against Arnold Schwarzenegger and won. He opened his eyes and froze.
Where the fuck was he?
Lifting up on his shoulders, he glanced around. Fuck me running. He was so screwed if he didn’t get out of Amy’s room pronto. Swinging legs out of bed, she murmured in protest, but didn’t wake up.
This wasn’t getting any better.
Where the fuck were his clothes?
Darting to the bathroom, he had one of two choices, a cupcake print purple terrycloth bathrobe, or a pink satin robe with red hearts all over it. Seriously? Mace mentally groaned and snagged the purple cupcake robe off the door and slipped it on. It was too small for him, the sleeves reaching to his forearms and the hem barely hitting mid-thigh.
Opening the door, he stuck his head out, looking both ways to check if it was clear. Hearing Romeo and Stone, Mace cringed. This was bad. Very bad. Tip-toeing downstairs, Mace quietly worked his way into the living room, to the door hidden from the view of the kitchen. He twisted the knob and pulled. The door refused to open.
Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot!
Pulling harder, Mace was about to go into full panic mode. If Romeo or Stone caught his naked ass in their house, they were going to throw him the worst beat-down he’d ever experienced. He swore under his breath, noticing the door was sealed off.
Creeping back upstairs, he tried the window at the end of the hall. Nailed shut. Good Lord, Romeo and Amy must have been terrors growing up. Why else would doors be sealed and windows nailed shut? This was a definite ass puckering moment. Hearing a door o
pen behind him, he spun around, seeing Amy. Hand flew over her mouth to catch the fit of laughter.
“Shh!” Mace tried not to laugh, this shit was far from funny. He pointed downstairs, “How the hell am I going to get out of here?”
Amy’s voice wobbled with laughter as she whispered, “I’ll get you out. Go to the front door.”
They made their way down, splitting off—Amy to the kitchen, Mace to the living room. Inching slowly to the front door, he saw Amy’s back to him, drawing Stone and Romeo’s attention away from the news on the TV.
Turning the knob, the door wouldn’t open. The deadbolt was locked. Turning the bolt was going to alert them that someone was in the living room. Just when Mace thought his luck was gone, a commercial with loud gunshots came on TV. Turning the bolt just as the gunshots went off, he cracked open the door.
“Are those cardinals?” Amy gasped, pointing out the window, forcing Stone and Romeo to stand beside her and look outside.
He owed her big time. Closing the door quietly behind him, he let out a breath of relief and ran for the barn, trying not to step on anything that would hurt his bare feet. Making it to his room, he sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. That was too close for comfort. Reaching for a pair of jeans, he slipped them on, followed by his boots. Checking his brand, he applied the salve, then placed a new bandage over it. He was busy pulling on a tee when Romeo rounded the corner and leaned against the doorjamb.
“You know, I have to say,” Romeo cleared his throat, the trace of laughter lingering. “Lavender is your color. How ‘bout it, cupcake?”
Mace looked up, tongue-tied at being caught. His jaw dropped, unable to rally a quick enough comeback to protest. He set his hands to his hips and hung his head, a half chuckle offered up as his excuse.
Romeo threw his head back and roared with laughter, pushing off of the doorjamb and moving deeper into the room. “It’s okay, man. You’re adults.” The laughter faded as his eyes grew dark with seriousness. “Just don’t hurt her, brother.”
