Taming His Wild Girl (Wild Whip Ranch Book 2)

by Lee Savino

  “Isabelle?” The door burst open. A man’s silhouette filled the doorway. It was too dark to make out his face, but I’d know his voice anywhere. My heartbeat slowed.

  He took two steps into the room. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said weakly. “I’m fine. Just had a bad dream.”

  “That figures. I heard you screaming.”

  “Crap. I’d hoped that was just in the dream.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” He flicked the switch on the bedside lamp, and I squinted as low light illuminated the room. I must look like hell. I hated for him to see me like that, but another part of me was too far gone to care. His face was full of concern as he perched on the end of the bed. He was fully dressed, I noticed distractedly, in a shirt, tucked into his jeans.

  “Sorry I freaked you out.”

  He shook his head. “I was worried about you.”

  “Did I wake you?”

  “No, I was up already. Decided to get an early start.”

  I scanned his features. He looked haunted. I’d done that to him. The most easy-going, positive guy in the world now had dark shadows under his eyes and lines of tension around those lush lips of his. I regretted being so difficult yesterday; so unfriendly.

  “I’m sorry for all this.”

  “Isabelle, stop apologizing.” A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Taking care of you is my priority now.”

  Did he really just say that? A little glow lit in my chest and spread all the way through me.

  I pulled back the covers cautiously, aware I was only wearing the cotton nightshirt I’d picked up yesterday. “I’ll come help you.”

  “No. It’s way too early,” he said firmly, that excitingly bossy tone creeping into his voice again. “Stay in bed and sleep some more. You need it.”

  Gratefully, I slid back between the sheets. The truth was, I was exhausted. I felt like I’d been having nightmares all night long. “If you’re sure?”

  He got to his feet and planted his hands on his hips. “I don’t want to hear a peep out of you until at least nine a.m. And that’s an order.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  “Sweet dreams, Isabelle,” he said, and he was gone.

  Yesterday flooded back to me on a tide of embarrassment. After what had happened outside, I hadn’t been able to look Joel in the eye for the rest of the evening. It wasn’t that I’d hated it—far from it. It had been the hottest moment of my life by a long shot. I hadn’t realized that sex could be like that. But it wasn’t how I’d wanted things to be. It wasn’t what I’d dreamed of. I used to fantasize that Joel would be my first boyfriend.

  God, how dorky that sounds. I even used to have this stupid daydream that we’d take over the ranch together one day.

  And now I was back at the ranch. But everything was different. Not everything—Joel was just the same. The same handsome, good-natured guy. But I was changed, forever. And being here hurt more than I could stand. It was a place of shattered dreams.

  I’d loved Joel punishing me. I deserved it. Needed it. Every slap of his big, hard hand on my ass released something inside me that had been coiled up tight for so long.

  And I love pleasuring him, too. Doing my best to take him in my mouth. He was so big. Too much to take. But all I wanted was to make him feel good. And the sound of satisfaction when he came was something I knew I’d never forget. I could do that for him, at least. I was no longer the girl I’d once been. And I knew he would never, never love this broken, screwed up version of me. But if I could give him some pleasure, well, then maybe that was enough.

  He said I’d be safe here. I wanted to believe him, more than anything. But what if he was wrong? Anton wouldn’t stop until he’d made me his wife, I knew that. I’d turned my phone off when we were parked up outside the police station. But what if he had some other way of following me here? Looking back into my past somehow, and making the connection?

  I had to keep Joel at a distance. Keep him safe. It was the only thing I could do.

  Bright light filtered through the curtains. I reached for my phone. Nine thirty. The last thing I remembered was watching it getting lighter outside and thinking I was never going to get back to sleep. I felt safer after Joel came to see me. Somehow, this had given me enough peace to help me fall back to sleep.

  I hoped Joel would be pleased rather than annoyed that I’d slept in an extra half hour. I liked it when got bossy with me, told me what time I could get up. It was reassuring somehow. It reminded me of how I used to love being looked after.

  He’d left a plate of food for me in the kitchen—scrambled eggs and home fries, along with a post-it note that said, Put in microwave for 30 seconds then eat up, tiny dancer. I smiled to myself as I carried out his orders. When I’d eaten, I washed up and got dressed fast, and when I went outside to look for him, I found him in the stables, busy mucking out the horses.

  “Good timing,” he said when he saw me.

  “Thanks for breakfast, it was delicious.”

  “You’re welcome. You look refreshed.”

  I pushed at my hair self-consciously. “Yeah, I got some more sleep.”

  He nodded and opened one of the stable doors. Then he went in and brought out a small chestnut horse on a rope.

  “I was thinking you could take care of this one for me,” he said. “Muck her out, then groom her. How about that?”

  Nerves prickled in my chest, and I swallowed hard. “Really?”

  He looked at me seriously as he fingered the brim of his cowboy hat. “Really,” he said in a firm voice.

  And as our eyes met, I knew he understood everything I was thinking. I’d never gotten into horses when I was a kid, because I’d known they were out of bounds for me. I’ve never felt the passion that my parents, and Bobby and Christina had for them. For me they were big, flighty creatures, capable of aiming a career-ending blow at my legs. And after the accident, well, I never wanted to think about horses again. I’d never even asked what had happened to the horse that was in the trailer when the accident happened.

  “I think it will do you good,” he said in a low, husky voice. “You ever been on one before?”

  I shook my head. “You know what my parents were like. My mom believed that even sitting astride one would alter my muscle development forever.”

  He gave that slow, sexy half-smile of his. “They sure were dedicated. Okay, how about you start with the mucking out and grooming, and then we’ll see how we go?”

  He tied the pretty little horse to the fence at the end of the yard, and I got to work cleaning up her little enclosure. I didn’t mind the physical labor, the pungent, fruity smell of her waste. I think Joel had assumed I’d be squeamish about it, but compared to being forced to strip on a stage, almost any other job was preferable. I put my back into the task and worked fast. At least stripping had kept my body strong. When I’d first started, I’ve been stunned at how weak my muscles had become, as I’d barely used them since ballet. But in time, they’d strengthened right up again.

  By the time I was done, I’d worked up a sweat, and the floor of the stable was as clean as I could make it. I saw the approval in Joel’s eyes as he showed me how to spread fresh straw on the ground. When I walked over to the horse, she whinnied, as if in greeting. She was a sweetheart. Even I could see that. Joel handed me a brush, and showed me how to use it on her coat.

  “She doesn’t kick,” he told me. “We raised her right from birth, and she’s got sweet manners.”

  “What’s her name?” I asked.

  “Odette,” he mumbled.

  My head jerked up. “Really?” It was the name of the White Swan in Swan Lake. The part I’d always dreamed of playing.

  Suddenly he couldn’t meet my eyes, and he scratched at the dirt with his toe of his boot. “Yup. I kind of named her after you—after your dancing, anyway.”

  A sound stuttered out of me—a laugh or a cry, I’m not sure which. I pressed my fingers to my mouth.

 
“She was born while you were staying with us,” he said to the dirt.

  I was so stunned, I could hardly breathe. I reached out and laid a trembling hand on the horse’s nose. She stayed still, her big nostrils flaring as she tried to sniff me. “And you decided I was the White Swan?” I murmured. I guessed I was—in those days. Now I had more in common with the Black Swan.

  He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’ll let you get on. Let me know if you need any help.”

  “I will,” I said, and he left me to it.

  Hesitantly, I ran my fingers up the horse’s face, not sure how she like to be touched, but she dipped her head and let me stroke her velvety ears. Her fur was a rich chestnut, almost red, and her mane and tail were the color of spun gold. She had a wide white stripe on her face, and four white ankles. As I began to brush her sleek hide, she stood still for me, occasionally blowing through her nose and trembling her muscles to shake off a persistent fly. I brushed her front legs, and when I moved to her back legs, Joel came right over and showed me how to stand on the sides to stay safe.

  “She won’t kick you, but just in case,” he told me. He also showed me how to clean out the dirt from her feet using a sharp hook. When I tapped her ankles, she sweetly lifted her feet up for me. Last of all, I brushed her beautiful mane and tail. Then I stood back and admired my handiwork. Already, I was enchanted by her.

  “You to look like you were made for each other,” Joel commented.

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “You’ve both got the same good heart, I can tell.”

  I looked at him in confusion, wondering how he could say that about me now.

  Lunch was a quick sandwich standing up in the kitchen.

  He was still that laidback young guy, I thought, watching him eat right off the breadboard, tossing slices of pickle into his mouth. And I loved that about him.

  Joel caught me watching and gulped, wiping his mouth. “‘Scuse me. Been living alone too long, I guess.” He ducked his head. The flare of heat in his cheeks was adorable, and my heart warmed in harmony.

  “Me too,” I said. “Hit me.” Before I’d had time to think about it, I’d opened my mouth wide. A second later, a slice of pickle was hurtling toward me. It landed wetly against my lower lip, but I scooped it up before it fell.

  “Gross. I don’t even like pickles.”

  “Too bad.” He got a wicked look in his eye.

  Another one was spinning my way, like a horrible, sour flying saucer.

  This time, I caught it in my mouth.

  Joel held a finger up. “Don’t waste it.”

  “Or what?” I managed to say, the salty monstrosity prickling on my tongue.

  His eyes narrowed. “Or I’ll be forced to punish you again.”

  Just like that, a trail of fire burned through my body. I thought about spitting it out, already yearning for the sting of his hand on my ass again.

  He took a step closer, and pressed his forefinger to my lips. “Swallow,” he said in a low voice.

  And I did. I gulped it right down.

  My knees turned weak, and my insides burned with desire for him. For the way he could turn on a dime into someone I submitted to—instantly, and without question.

  “Show me,” he said.

  Obediently, I parted my lips.

  “Stick out your tongue.”

  He grasped my chin with a rough hand, forcing my jaw open wider. Then he looked into my mouth, like he was really examining it, using his fingertips to widen the corners.

  It was weird and embarrassing, and I was damned if it didn’t make me twice as aroused as I was already.

  “Hmmm…” He made a thoughtful sound.

  “What?” I tried to say.

  “Big mouth for a small girl. Very useful.”

  A flood of shame-spiked yearning went through me. My clit ached, and my nipples turned to painful points beneath my bra. I hoped he’d push me to my knees again, test the limits of what my mouth was capable of.

  Instead, he released me, turned around, and walked out of the kitchen, whistling.

  I followed him, dazed. I knew right then that I’d do anything he wanted me to, submit to his every whim.

  And I’d enjoy it.

  Chapter 9

  Isabelle

  He was at the stables, hanging over Odette’s door, talking to her softly. He didn’t turn as I arrived and I felt awkward, wet between my legs, and wanting him so much it was ridiculous.

  “Did I do okay?” I asked, referring to Odette.

  At last, he turned and looked me up and down casually. “You did perfect,” he said.

  I went beet red. Talk about a double entendre—and I’d walked right into it.

  His expression turned thoughtful. “How’s your leg these days?”

  I blinked at the change of topic. “F-fine. For most things, it’s okay.” Just not for ballet.

  “Does it bother you any?”

  I shrugged “It was a bad break. I had four pins in it.” Automatically my hand dropped to my thigh, to rub along the scarred muscle. I clenched my fist and tucked it away, but Joel saw. Of course he did.

  He was looking at me in that soft way of his, the one I had once confused with pity. I cleared my throat. “It’s fine now. I’m fine.”

  The truth was, I liked the reminder that the occasional painful twinge brought me. Why should I have gotten away virtually unharmed, when my family had lost their lives?

  “All right.” He tilted his head to the side. “How about we have your first horseback riding lesson today?”

  Dread poured through me like freezing rain. “I-I don’t know.”

  His amber eyes filled with warmth. “You took care of Odette today. You saw how sweet she is.”

  I nodded slowly. “I did.”

  “She wouldn’t hurt you.”

  I opened and closed my mouth, no words coming out. I kind of believed she wouldn’t. I couldn’t explain what I was afraid of, exactly. Not falling off, or being out of control. Something darker than that, which I couldn’t translate into words.

  Joel opened the door of the stall and called to her. She came out on slow, clomping steps, neck extended as if she was scared of what would greet her.

  “They’re fearful animals,” he said. “Prey animals. They find comfort in a strong hand. Just stroke her for a minute.”

  The sight of her dark, noble eyes and silky mane calmed me a little, and I reached out eagerly to stroke her velvety nose. The massive nostrils flared as she sniffed me, and then, to my surprise, she took another step forward, and her nose was on my neck.

  “She’s just nuzzling you,” Joel said. “Don’t be scared.”

  I forced myself not to move as her lips pressed to my skin. She blew a jet of warm breath, and her little whiskers tickled me. I lifted my arm and wrapped it around her neck, and she didn’t move.

  “I told you,” Joel murmured. “You’re made for each other.”

  I drew back slowly, and Joel held out a bunch of straps.

  “Want to put her bridle on?”

  I nodded.

  He showed me how to slip the metal bit into Odette’s mouth. She protested a little at first, but then she accepted it, munching on it like she was getting accustomed to it.

  “See, you’re a natural,” he told me. “I have a hell of a time getting some of the other horses to accept the bit.” Then he showed me how to lift the bridle over her face and buckle it up behind her ears. I stroked her neck and her muscular shoulder while he brought out the saddle.

  “It’s an old one,” he said, stroking the rich brown leather affectionately. “It’s the one I learned to ride on, so it’s plenty broken in.” He laid a blanket on her back, then buckled it over the top, warning me that horses liked to blow out their stomachs to trick you into leaving the girth loose. Odette obliged, puffing out her stomach until she looked pregnant. “She’s got a lot of spirit,” Joel said. “Just like you.”

  When the girth was tight en
ough, he helped me slip my foot in the stirrup and swing my other leg across her broad back. Instinctively, I straightened my back and wriggled in the saddle until I was comfortable.

  “There you go.” Joel clapped his hands against his thighs. “You’re a natural. Knew you would be.”

  I smiled nervously.

  “Want my Stetson to keep the sun out of your eyes?”

  I started to shake my head. His white hat was as much a part of him as his easy smile. But he’d already taken it off and handed it to me. It was as big on my head as I’d expected.

  “Won’t it fall off?”

  “Nope. That’s the beauty of it. We can go nice and slow, so you’ll know there’s no chance of you losing it.”

  “Okay,” I said in a small voice.

  Joel attached a rein to Odette’s bridle and began to lead her. As she began to move, I panicked. It wasn’t a smooth motion, but kind of rocking and uneven.

  “Relax,” he said soothingly. “It feels weird at first, but you’ll soon get used to it. You can hold her mane if you want to.”

  Gratefully I clung to her silky golden hair as he led us into the corral.

  “We’re just going to walk today,” he told me. “No gymnastics. I want you to feel comfortable.” He began to lead Odette around the edge of the corral. She moved fast, eagerly, her head up and little ears pointed forward. I sensed she wanted to go faster.

  “Maybe one day,” I whispered to her.

  Joel took us on a dozen turns of the corral, talking to me the whole time in a low, reassuring voice. Checking I was okay, that my leg didn’t hurt. The rocking motion and the squeaking of the saddle were kind of soothing, and I was actually disappointed when he led us toward the gate again.

  When we got back to the stable, he showed me how to dismount. It felt weird being on my own two legs again. I handed his hat back to him.

  So this was what all the fuss was about. This was what had obsessed my family practically every minute of their lives. I get it now, I thought. And in a rush, it all came back to me: the ranch vacation; their early departure because of me; the beautiful thoroughbred horse they were so excited about. And the truck smashing through everyone’s dreams.