His To Break

by Dani Wyatt

  “Close your eyes and remember who you are. You are the leader; your horse wants to trust you, but first you have to trust yourself.” I swallow, fighting the urge to look back into the ring.

  Nancy does as I say, shuts her eyes and her horse lets out a low snort, dropping his head a few inches as he stands calmly by her side.

  “You cannot simply say the words. You need to believe it. In the deepest part of you, you have to believe that you are the leader. Grand Teton will feel that and follow you anywhere. You’ve done the work. I’m proud of you.” I’m uncomfortably warm even though the day is cool. A temperate breeze breaks through the open doors of the massive riding arena bringing with it the sounds and smells of the beautiful day outside.

  Nancy sighs as her chest fills, and her shoulders move back. My body ignites in another flash of heat when I see movement out of the corner of my eye in the ring. My skin ripples and tingles and I am baffled by my visceral reaction to this unknown young woman. I’ve barely set my eyes on her for more than a few seconds, but she’s known to me in other ways. Ways I didn’t understand until right now.

  “Thanks.” Nancy speaks and I flinch, so lost in my lustful thoughts. “I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you.”

  I shake my head and give her a controlled smile. I should lay a hand on her shoulder, give her some physical touch to sooth her, but I never touch students unless it is to adjust a leg or correct a movement. It’s nothing personal, keeping things strictly professional serves both student and teacher.

  When I see her take a deep breath, I continue. “You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” I nod at her. “When you came to me six months ago, do you remember?”

  She bites her lip and nods. She leans her face into Grand Teton’s shiny, perfectly groomed neck and inhales. “I was a mess. I remember shaking so bad you just sat with me for over an hour on the bench in the ring. Just talking about this and that. Then just when I thought you were going to make me get on a horse, we went for a walk. It was a great day.”

  “Yes. Well, you could call it that. It was a new beginning. Now look at you? Ready to rise up and show everyone what it means to fight your way back to the top. Who said a shattered pelvis, five broken ribs, and a collapsed lung would keep you from competing again?” I fight the grin that is threatening to take over my face. I’ve been known to curve my lips upward, but a full smile for me is rare, especially with my students.

  She wraps one hand around Teton’s snout, moving in to give the enormous bay a kiss on the side of his cheek. Then she chuckles in agreement. “It wasn’t the broken bones, you know.” She speaks softly into the horse’s face. We both know.

  This is a precarious sport, full of powerful beauty and unexpected outcomes. Persuading a thousand-pound animal to do as you wish is a thrilling honor but they are still unpredictable, and Nancy didn’t just take a horrific fall during her warm up at the Dublin International Eventing competition. She also landed in the path of an oncoming horse who couldn’t avoid her and who’s front two feet landed on her when he came down off a jump. She’s lucky to be alive.

  “I know.” I nod. “Now go get your head right, get in there and bring that first place ribbon back with you. You deserve it. You are the best. Keep your eyes up, your heart and your hands soft. Imagine the perfect ride in your mind’s eye and then follow through. Go!”

  I toss my head in the direction of the open door of the practice arena urging her to move away, and she pats Grand Teton on the neck before turning him firmly. She walks him to a mounting block where one of our grooms is waiting. I watch her mount up then walk outside where she will move into the que to ride her course.

  Finally I’m able spin around, anxious to make sure the beauty in the ring is still there. A flash of anger courses through me for letting her out of my sight at all.

  My heart sinks when I find the practice ring empty. I swivel my head around, but there’s nothing. Shutting my eyes and clenching my teeth together, I tell myself to let it go. After all it was just a look. One look.

  But I know better.

  There hasn’t been a woman in my life for a long time. Over ten years now. Truth is, I don’t know if there will ever be a woman in my life again. The last time I had someone in my life, it ended when I saw my then best friend pulling his dick out her. Let’s just say I haven’t been back in the game since.

  The worst part of that situation was they’d started up together when I was still in the hospital after my injury. Laying there with my leg in traction, not sure I would walk out of that hospital with my leg at all.

  It’s the invisible injuries that are hardest to heal, as I tell all my students now. The rebuilding of trust.

  After my injury, there was no question my competition days were over. Warner, the owner of the barn where I rode, offered to make me head trainer and I produced three world champions in the next few years. That’s where I’ve stayed all these years, although now I specialize in re-training and rehabbing riders and horses. But I have a world class staff that work under me producing some of the best amateur and professional riders in the world.

  After the incident with my former best friend Travis, I made sure he figured out he was no longer welcome on the team nor in the barn, and Warner backed me up. Travis made his way to another facility about fifty miles north of where I now still train. Our sport is a small world, and I’ve made peace with seeing him, but my trust was shattered that day, and I’ve never had the desire to take that risk again.

  It wasn’t even that I cared all that much for the girl, it was the fact that the closest people in your life can make the choice to hurt you in your most vulnerable times.

  Besides, this business is just that – business. And I don’t like things messy. Or complicated. I spend eighteen hours a day working, and this is my life. I’m comfortable with the way things are.

  A low groan rumbles out of me as I spin on my good leg to start in the direction where my own student headed off. She’s on deck next, and I need to be standing in my usual spot so she can feel my support. Licking my lips and squeezing my eyes shut for a moment to block out the vision of the beauty in the ring, I flip my cane up and around and step forward.

  I open my eyes just in time to hear someone cry out just as my cane smacks her in the face.

  “Oh, dang it! Holy cow.” A pained voice cuts through me like a diamond blade to my heart. Her hands cover her nose, and she nearly doubles over.

  It’s her. The throbbing in my cock returns with a fervor.

  “Shit, I’m sorry.” There’s that pain in my chest again, but this time, it fills my entire torso and trickles down to pool in places long forgotten.

  When I turned, I flipped my cane up and spun it around. It’s just one of the bad habits I seem to have picked up. Usually it’s just annoying, but this time I whacked her right in the nose with the solid, sterling silver horse’s head that tops the carved walnut stick. “Are you okay?” The words come out in a horrified burst.

  There are people milling around outside, going on with their day, while inside me a conflict of epic proportions rages. She’s right here –I can reach out and touch her– but I’ve hurt her, and that thought is twisting inside me, causing my stomach to tighten and lurch.

  She’s still holding her nose, and I think if I see a trickle of blood come out I may just die. Whomever she is, I’ve hurt her, and that is unforgivable. No one should hurt her. Ever.

  Of all my senses, it’s her scent that brands me first. A near mind-numbing blast of some magical perfume, defying definition, runs through me like an electric current. It’s not just sweet either, more like fresh ginger and lilacs, and my skin ignites with a palpable energy.

  “Are you okay?” I repeat because I need to know. The words come out in a husky grunt between the thumping of my heart into the wall of my chest.

  When her eyes finally come up, I’m gone. The swirling inside my head is now a tornado inside my body. Her eyes must be spun from turq
uoise and sapphires, but right now they are filling with unshed tears, and I hate that I’ve caused this.

  A high-pitched, unsteady moan comes out of her, and my heart beats so fast I’m about to keel over. The pained sound mixes with a stifled giggle and my eyes pin on her face.

  “Travis said this would be a tough event” Her voice hits me in places I didn’t know were still alive, and the sudden urge to pull her against me is almost stronger than I can fight. “You studied at the Tonya Harding School I guess.” She drops her hands from her nose with another musical giggle.

  She straightens up, and I lean in, trying to make sure her nose isn’t bleeding or swollen, and she smiles at me.

  “Here.” I reach to my back pocket, producing a perfect white square of folded cotton. It’s an old gentleman’s custom, carrying a handkerchief, but one I am happy as fuck I’ve continued even as this century has forgotten some of the subtleties of being a true gentleman.

  Suddenly, I process what she just said.

  “You train with Travis?” The horror that I may have injured her has now multiplied a hundred fold and a river of fire runs over my skin. “You’re his student?”

  “Yes.” She wiggles her nose, pinching it between two fingers before shaking her head and dropping her hand to her side. “I’m new. Sort of. This is my first international level event. I’m not off to a great start.” She brushes both her hands over her chest, and she must be brushing away some invisible dust because she is immaculate. The dark, fitted blazer is cut perfectly around what has to be the world’s most stunning set of tits.

  She’s not tall, but not short either. She’s filled out in a way that feels as though her body was created just for my hands to cup and discover. Curves top above her waist like a Hollywood starlet from the golden age. Her hips balance out below with just as much soft wonderment as my mind can take right now.

  I stutter out more words of apology. “I am so sorry. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine. But I should go.” With a frantic swivel of her head, I’m suddenly filled with anger because I’m sure she’s looking for Travis.

  Even with her power still draining the blood from my brain, I manage to think of how to keep her with me longer. “I was just walking over to watch my student.” I raise my cane in the direction I know she needs to go. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get you some ice?” I need her to stay with me for at least a moment longer, so I move toward the open doors of the indoor area toward the outside where the hustle and bustle of spectators, grooms, trainers, riders, and horses make for a hectic energy.

  I’m more aware than usual of my limp and the weight I place on my cane as I step forward.

  But, I’m lost her eyes which remind me of blue glitter, and when she raises them to meet mine with a soft curve on her full, pink lips, I’m sure my heart stops. My dick’s been taking a decade-long sabbatical, but he’s back with a vengeance and walking with an erection the size of mine takes concentration.

  Mine.

  That word hits me with its new meaning.

  Mine. I need her to be mine.

  That thought slams around inside my head, making it hard to breathe. No woman has ever affected me this way, and I still don’t even know her name. But I know her scent. Something primal is going on because her smell has imprinted itself so deep inside me already, she’s becoming part of me.

  My brow knits together, and an inner caveman surfaces. I scan the crowd, making sure no other man is looking at her. My lips are tight, ready to bare my teeth and lash out at anyone that comes too close. It seems I’ve been asleep for a very long time. A vampire in a darkened coffin. As though the fresh scent of virgin blood is in the air, and I’ve awakened with a need thumping so deep I’m scaring myself.

  “Yes, I need to get out there and find my trainer. I’m up in the next level seven group. Travis hates when his students aren’t where he wants them to be.”

  My trainer. His student.

  I hate those words. They are my new least favorite words.

  The muscles in the back of my neck ache with the tension so thick between us, but I step forward with her. She stands just to my shoulders. I’m close to six foot five inches, so I’d guess she’s about five six herself. Perfect size, with curves up top and an ass that has me ready to speak in tongues. It’s full and ripe, and the way she flutters her eyelashes when she looks at me, then just as quickly looks away, has this new, inner, dominant beast in me ready to guide her onto her knees.

  My cane keeps time with our steps as we snake our way through the crowd, making steady headway through the throngs of other humans and animals. I squint at the bright sunlight. It’s a stunning day. Puffs of white clouds slowly make their way from west to east over the late summer sky here in Michigan. Announcers on loudspeakers fill the air; the hooves of horses clomping by mix the buzz in the air which is no match for the buzzing inside my body.

  She flips her head to look at me and finds me looking back at her. Her eyes questioning, then focusing, and her lips drop open slightly. She draws a quick breath then just as quickly lets it go and I want so badly to feel it against my skin.

  She pulls her lips to the side, and I count the seven freckles that dot the middle of her swooping nose. Her face reminds me of a Romanesque marble statue. Breathtakingly beautiful and round in all the right places. Cheeks like ripe peaches fill as she smiles. “You’re Reed Sawyer.”

  It’s not a question, but the sound of my name on those lips reminds me that my heart's purpose is not simply to move blood through my veins.

  “Yes.” Immediately I feel like a dolt for not introducing myself properly. This little angel has me forgetting my manners when I need them the most.

  Her fingers come up to cover her lips, a shy, sweet awe spreading over her face.

  Her hand lowers from her mouth to tug at the high collar of her white shirt. “Wow. The great Reed Sawyer almost broke my nose before my first international competition. I think that’s good luck.”

  The crowd thickens around us; pushing in as we walk the worn grass path to where my student Nancy is ready to mount up and enter the ring.

  Before I reply, a man’s voice shouting through the noise of the crowd and I flip my head around to see Travis flapping a hand in her direction with an irritated scowl.

  “Ugh, see? He’s very particular. I need to go.” She jogs forward a few steps, and I’m losing her. A lump forms in my throat as the space between us increases.

  A new sensation courses through me. Jealousy. Something I don’t ever remember feeling before. My fingers turn to fists, tightening with every step she moves closer to him.

  “Wait, what’s your—“ I manage before she cuts me off with a disarming smile that sends drops of cum soaking into my underwear. Thoughts of pushing my face between her legs and breathing in her scent for hours on end tumble through my addled brain.

  “It was nice to meet you.” She says as she scurries forward. “Maybe you’ll get to see my ride. Might be good luck. You want to be my good luck charm?” She crinkles her nose again and rubs it playfully between two fingers before turning and skipping away from me.

  She breaks into a run, turning fully away, so I only see the back of her... The sound of Travis’s shouting at her to hurry up from down the grass track has the hairs on my neck on end. I want to go lay him out, shove my cane down his fucking throat for speaking to her like that.

  For knowing her at all. Why him?

  I shake my head and grip the top of my cane so hard my knuckles crack.

  She’s out of earshot when I finally answer her last question. “I don’t want to be your good luck charm; I want to be your everything.”

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  Love, Daddy Series

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  A B O U T T H E A U T H O R S

  Liam Ryder is a former Marine, current cowboy with the fire of Scottish blood running through his veins. His stories are formed from the best sort of passionate dirty mind. Loyal heroes that find smart, spunky heroines irresistible come together in his stories combine the feel of a traditional romance with a bit of rough darkness, and a heavy but loving hand.

  Step into Liam’s world where a slap on the ass is just the beginning. If you love some filthy talk tossed around with a generous sprinkling of ‘good girl’ you’re in the right place. Always safe, no cheating and a guaranteed happy ending that will leave you swooning and fanning yourself until his next release.

  Dani Wyatt used to feel bad about having such dirty thoughts. Luckily, one day she decided to start writing them down. Her uber alpha heros have a wicked possessive streak and an insatiable libido. Her heroines are intelligent, quirky and worry about having too much muffin top. With her books, you can count on a heaping helping of HOT, a dash of rough and always a happily ever after.