The Polo Prince (Foxworth Stud Ranch Book 4)

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The Polo Prince (Foxworth Stud Ranch Book 4) Page 8

by Mia Madison


  “Fine,” I say. “Just a little chafed from the ride.”

  “You’re riding Freesia already?” Edie asks.

  “I was kind of a passenger,” I admit, feeling my cheeks heat up a little.

  The three women look at me and then Dallyce says; “With Diego.”

  The two other women stretch their eyes open in surprise, then shock, then what seems like admiration.

  “Yum, lucky you,” Modesty says.

  “Not lucky her,” Dallyce snaps. “He’s not good for any woman let alone -”

  Edie shakes her head in warning and Dallyce stops mid sentence.

  “Sorry,” she adds.

  “Say it,” I tell her.

  “I just mean that you’re here to focus on yourself and allowing Diego to play games with you could be very detrimental.”

  “Oh bullshit,” Modesty says. “I love you girlfriend, but you don’t always know what another woman needs. Maybe the attention of a hot gorgeous Latin is exactly what the doctor would order. It certainly helped my pain.”

  “Modesty this isn't a joking around matter,” Dallyce says.

  “Mine too,” Edie says. “Come on Dee, you have to admit you’re way happier with your life since Shea stopped by to stay.”

  “Shea isn’t a player,” Dallyce says. “Even Rafe isn’t. Not as bad as Diego anyway.”

  “I think she means she can handle a man whereas I’m too fragile and she could be right,” I say.

  The three women friend-fight over what is best for my recovery and I wander off in my mind to what came after the spanking. I know it was so much more than a quick game for him.

  Riding back to the ranch, Diego didn’t once remove his hand from my bare leg. His thumb even rubbed back and forth, repeating that stroking he gave my lower back before, making me feel comforted.

  It must be amazing to have a man at your side all the time. I can see why Modesty and Dallyce love their big older cowboys so much. I’d give anything to feel this protected and adored all the time. Being alone seems easier but is actually a tiring way to exist. Always having to be caring for yourself, trying to fill the gaps that most people get from their family and boyfriends.

  Diego is no therapist but he’s easy to talk to and in just a few days I’ve let him into my life more than I've ever let in anyone, since – that. It’s taken years of thrice weekly sessions with Shelly for me to be able to even mention what happened without falling apart.

  I came so close to telling him the entire story as we rode across the plain with his hand on my thigh and my arms entwined round his amazing abs. I never wanted to let him go. It was quite a shock to discover we’d already arrived back at the ranch house so soon. I wanted my time alone with Diego to go on and on.

  The only thing that held me back from telling him everything was fear. A different kind of fear than my normal though. This was the surety that telling him what I did ten years ago would scare him off. Which would mean the fantasy of having a real man get me off, someone who knows exactly how to do it, would blow up and disappear in a puff of smoke.

  Then next moment Don Quixote was walking across the paddock I left Freesia in when Diego scooped me up. I realize I drifted off somewhere. I have a tendency to do that, to black out but still be perfectly awake and functioning as normal to the onlooker. Dissociation, Shelly calls it. Well, that’s the actual name for when your brain gives you a break from having to face shit that tears you up inside and takes you off somewhere else.

  But he didn’t care who saw us together – he wasn’t playing a game that couldn’t be out in the open. My heart takes off like a rocket at that. I’m glad that he’s not making me a dirty little secret at least.

  So maybe my brain gets the message that Diego isn’t so safe after all. But he’s still more fun than I’ve ever known and my body is right on board with that. So I just have to be careful.

  “Surely it’s good for me to come out of my shell. Isn’t that why I’m here?”

  Oh crap, I did say that out loud. My three friends are looking at me in surprise, clearly unsure what the protocol is here. They aren’t my friends actually, they professionals with a job to do. I wish they were though. Having three girlfriends like this would be amazing.

  “It is good,” Modesty announces and receives a sharp look from Dallyce. “In my opinion. Humble and inexpert it is, but definitely full of caring.”

  I throw her a grateful smile. I do get the idea that she is looking out for me as a friend, or something more than just an employee at the facility at least.

  “It’s not as though she’s alone,” Edie adds. “We’re all here to support her and the cowboys will protect her.”

  “He’s not the big bad wolf,” I laugh, tucking into the amazing pecan pie the cook has made us.

  “That’s exactly what he is,” Dallyce says.

  “You’re making judgments,” Modesty tells her.

  “I don’t want to see her get hurt.”

  “You don’t know that she will and anyway that has to be her decision,” Edie says more gently.

  I get the feeling there’s more history between Dallyce and Modesty. It’s almost like Modesty’s breaking out from under Dallyce’s overly motherly direction.

  “It’s just a barbecue and I assume I’m not banned from attending.” I say, pouring coffee form the silver pot for all of us.

  “No, of course not,” the three girls say in unison.

  “Good because I’ve made my decision,” I continue.

  That in itself feels amazing. I’ve spent so many years frozen with inability to trust my own mind. And Diego is never out of my thoughts for more than ten seconds. The only way to get through this is to see where it goes and like Mod says, this is my chance to have some badass back up.

  There’s nothing I want more than to be taken to the cookout by Diego and also to be at a social event – the first one in fuck knows how long. Being with friends and on Diego’s arm, having his hand rest on the small of my back sending me all that support like he does.

  “I want to try it,” I say.

  “Yay,” Modesty claps her hands.

  18

  Diego

  A part of me wants to leave this godforsaken place right now.

  A large part.

  I should not be getting into something with Violet that I can’t finish. I don’t know what she’s expecting now. The way she sucked on my ear lobe was fucking hot. But then she turned her face to one side and rested her cheek on the back of my shoulder with - you know – that emotion pouring out through every cell.

  “How’d it go, Boss,” Flavio asks me in our language when we sit down to eat.

  The same old cowboy beef stew but damn, it’s almost as good as my nonna used to make.

  “Fine,” I snap, not liking how the big cowboy strides into the dining room like he owns it and gives me a filthy look.

  Flavio makes a rude remark about the big guy and I tell him to shut up, you never know who might speak a foreign language. It’s a good idea not to ever make assumptions about people or judge them by their exterior. That’s a belief I go by and it allows me to hang with all sorts from polo playing princes down to Conchita washing dishes in the kitchen.

  Anyway the head ranch hand deserves respect. He cant help it if he’s over-protective of his mistress. That’s a good thing. And I’d wager he’s a little hung up on her too. She’s hot, there’s no doubt about it but a little too bossy for my taste. I like a girl that’s tough, but she’s also got to know I’m wearing the pants. And not try to get in them with me.

  “We’re men, we aren’t bitches,” I tell them and they snigger.

  “You win,” Nacho says to Flavio.

  “Ya, he definitely didn’t dip his dick.”

  “You don't know what I did,” I snarl, hoping that none of the cowboy crew actually do know Spanish.

  “We always know when you don’t get laid, Boss. You get hungry like a wolf.”

  “Fuck you, there’s mor
e to life than sinking your fat cock in pussy.”

  The two grooms I’ve known since childhood, as they grew up with families working our estancia, swap another knowing smirk.

  “Speaking of which, what do you say we stay here Saturday night for the wedding party,” Nacho says.

  “You really want me to miss my polo game so you can fuck some bridesmaid?”

  “Bridesmaids,” he emphasizes the plural with a dirty grin, indicating he’s doing more than one of them.

  I roll my eyes but I’d probably be doing a couple myself if it weren’t for Violet.

  “We can leave early on Sunday and still be there in plenty of time,” Flavio adds. “Come on Boss, Palm Beach is so fucking uptight with all that dry pussy.”

  “You two are a filthy fucking pair of reprobates,” I tell them.

  “Thanks Jefe,” they gnarl. Always they call me Boss, the nickname they’ve had for me since we were seven and I used to stride around the estate barking orders at their fathers. Christ, I can hardly bear to recall what an arrogant brat I was.

  That means instead of getting out of here early like I’m thinking, instead I’ll be trapped another night and a wedding too. You know how girls get at a wedding. Even the most firmly anti-marriage get all dewy eyed picturing themselves in the froth dress on the arm of their Prince. Well I’m no Prince, aside from the Prince of Polo. Maybe all the occupants of Foxworth won’t be invited to attend. It is a private event for clients after all.

  I busy myself all afternoon with preparing my horses and making arrangements for the transfer of the breeders to Foxworth. There’s a ton of tedious government paperwork to fill out and that’s why I’m distracted every two minutes, drifting off and thinking of Violet’s delicious curves.

  Her firm round ass tipped up toward me, so impossibly pale in the hot sun. The cheeks were stretched the way she was bent and arched but her inner thighs shook provocatively every time I slapped her and that quivering flesh, at that particular part of her gorgeous body has my cock pinging toward the ceiling almost constantly.

  Christ, I should have dealt with this hunger when I had the chance. Screw all this build up of chemistry. I need to be inside her. I’m tempted to go out looking for her right now. She must be in the stable doing some therapeutic grooming shit, all alone. It’s the perfect place to bend her over a stack of hay bales and slide between those shimmering thighs. With both palms on her cheeks, holding her firm and pulling her open, I can clearly envision my cock slipping deep in and out of her.

  I leave the completed forms for Chloe to deal with at last and go to my room to change for the cookout. As I pass Violet’s door, I’m beyond fucking tempted to slip inside. I’m pretty certain she’d welcome me but I don’t want to be that much of an ass with her. Although I can see the steely inner character, she’s also vulnerable right now. I’m a bastard but not that much of one.

  I can wait a little longer to take what I need from her. But not too much more.

  Couple hours later and I’m actually a little jittery when I exit my own room and walk down the wide hall to knock on Violet’s door. I feel like some fucking suitor coming to call and only lacking the flower presentation. Shit, I should have brought her something. But it’s not like there are any stores around here or a garden to raid. Chloe Foxworth took off today in her father’s twin prop to pick up necessities in the closest civilized city.

  “I can only bring you myself,” I tell her when she pulls back the door.

  My charming grin should do the trick and I guess it does as the color flies to her cheeks and makes me think of how red her ass cheek was this morning. I wonder if it’s still glowing hot. Was I on her mind all afternoon the way she refused to leave mine?

  “Oh, I didn't expect anything,” she mutters.

  She’s looking at the ground demurely but too much so.

  “Look at me,” I tell her and her eyes bat up to mine instantly. I can see her make the effort to dredge up the confidence to keep them there. “You look amazing,” I tell her. “So damn beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” she murmurs with a delicate blush of pleasure this time. “You look pretty incredible yourself.”

  So now, usually I say ‘I know’ when a woman tells me that but strangely, I really don’t want to be a dick around Violet. I thank her and extend my arm like some smooth asshat and lead her down the stairs and outside to where the party is in full swing lit by thousands of candle lit paper bags. A DJ is set up to one side and a long bar with professional mixologists making cocktails, not just a brew master pulling draft. I lead her there and order her a flirtini.

  “Wow, this is lovely,” Violet whispers, her little hand coming up to my forearm. Her fingers curl around and I want nothing more than to feel them wrapping my solid cock. “It’s so nice to be outside.”

  “Don’t you go out much?” I joke.

  “No, hardly ever,” she says, then adds. “I mean out under the stars like this.”

  There’s something so distracting about Violet, beyond her body built for hard riding. She says the strangest things that make me want to know more about her and keep her forever safe. Far from comments about me squiring her to the ball, no one pays much attention aside from the bossy little blond. She’s standing beside one of the big cowboys with her eyes glued to us like radar.

  I notice Chloe’s back and she’s having a mega heated discussion with the cowboy that thought he could push me around earlier today. Abel I think it is. I hope he’s not in trouble for failing to get Violet away from me, but I gotta say just by the way he’s looking at her; man, that dude has it bad.

  19

  Violet

  I feel so full just being at Diego’s side. Like my whole core is stretching at my skin. I can only imagine what it would be like if he was actually inside me. If I took the whole delicious length of him deep into my body. It’s ridiculous because we’re completely different people, class wise and culture wise. But all I can think of is the masculine aroma of his neck as I rested my chin in his shoulder while we rode.

  Tonight he smells different, with a very exotic scent, but still the masculine leather of his skin assaults my senses with lust when he kisses my cheek. He’s clean shaved but his jaw is already scrubby rough and makes me long to feel that rasp rubbing the sensitive areas of my skin.

  I have to stop. But I can’t. I didn't know it was possible to become this besotted by a man but when it hits you, it’s like a blast of crack. Addictive, burning, impossible to ignore.

  I’m so glad I brought one decent dress to wear, just in case anything went down at this swanky ranch. It’s backless too, so every time Diego touches me. And he touches me a lot, his fingertips trailing down my spine like he’s stroking across fur, goosebumps lift all down my arms.

  He rarely leaves my side. Only once to go show the cowboys how to start a proper fire which I can tell they don’t appreciate his intrusion. What a bunch of testosterone is flying around this party. No wonder the gang of bridesmaids is all ramped up. They’re tossing back cocktails like it’s last call and flirting with every man they can sideline for long enough.

  Diego quickly gives up on the barbecue pit in preference of talking to me. We stand at the bar, chatting comfortably. His hand is in the small of my back where no one can see. And now and then he slides down lower, dangerously low to cup my butt cheek and it makes me want him so bad I can taste it.

  “Have I told you you look incredible tonight,” He tips down to murmur against my ear.

  “You have. A few times.”

  “Sorry if I'm boring,” he laughs knowing full well he’s the furthest thing from that.

  He brings pieces of delicious meat from the fire and feeds me. I really don’t know why I’ve avoided this partying stuff for so long. Although it could be that I never had a Diego della Donna taking care of me until now.

  As soon as the amazing food has been demolished, the music picks up the pace and the bridesmaids dash to a temporary wooden dance floor that�
��s been set up. They drag every man they can get their mitts on. When I return from the washroom, I see they’ve managed to nab Diego. I stand and watch him, admiring how his body moves perfectly in time with the beat.

  The women are pawing at him but he’s expert at shifting out of their grasp. I try not to allow jealousy to creep in and ruin my night. He meets my eye as I pass and immediately grabs me, yanking me hard into his chest then twirling me around.

  A big ‘ooh’ sigh comes out from a few of the women, who were clearly thrilling about getting themselves into Diego’s embrace. Then the song changes and a bunch of hoots go up around us.

  The bridesmaids leap into a formation line up and start a routine they’ve clearly choreographed for the wedding.

  “I can't feel my face when I’m with you,” they scream in unison along with the song.

  They jump around and shake booty, making the temporary wooden dance floor shake. Diego looks down at me and I smile back. The DJ turns the sound down as they shout; “Cause I’m sitting”. They pantomime some vulgar moves to go with the words that indicate them grinding down on a guys beard.

  I laugh, determined to be fun. I see Diego hasn’t taken his intense stare off me once. Then he grabs my hand and pulls me clear just as I’m about to get steam rollered by bridesmaids. They’re after him and they’re willing to hipcheck to the floor to get him.

  He yanks me quickly behind their double line up and we slip away while no one notices us hidden by the leaping bridesmaids. He leads me quickly to the corner of the house and around to the side not facing the party. Then my back presses hard into the wall as he pushes me all the intense solidity in his torso. I’m pinned and he smothers my neck with his mouth. We’re like a pair of wild animals, clawing and dragging at each other, hands scrabbling everywhere at once.

  One hand cups my breast, bare under the thin material of my dress which seems to drive him more deranged. He tips further to bite the fleshy top through the fabric and trail a line of generous nips toward the nipple which he takes between his teeth to bite down on just enough to make me dig my nails hard into his shoulder muscle and cry out to the sky.

 

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