I reached up and grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled it over my head. Then I untied Rachel’s hands. I wanted to feel her arms around me when I lowered my body over her. She arched her back upwards, pressing her body into my torso, and I felt the wetness of her pussy against my thigh. Rachel was trying to tell me she was just as desperate as I was. Then she wrapped her arms around me and dug her fingernails into my back, pulling me in closer to her.
I grabbed her wrists violently, forcing her arms down by her sides, and then I kissed her lips again. She gasped and moaned into my mouth as our bare bodies touched for the first time. Then I let go of her wrists, pushed her knees upwards and parted her legs further. My cock was pressing on her belly, and I felt her squirm, wanting me inside her. Rachel’s lips fell open as I stared at her beautiful face. How many times had I jacked off dreaming of fucking Rachel? Since we were fourteen or fifteen? Now I was finally going to have her.
She gasped as I pushed through her folds and thrust inside her. Every inch of her body was exposed. I didn’t appear to be hurting her, though; it was obvious Rachel was no virgin. A flash of anger came over me as I wondered who had been her first — that should have been my job.
“Kent! Oh my God, Kent...please...more!” she was screaming. Then I knew she was enjoying getting a good fucking as much as I was enjoying giving it to her. I was teetering on the edge of an orgasm, unable to hold back much longer. When I quickened my pace, I gripped one of her delicious nipples and tugged at it, heightening her pleasure.
“Kent…I’m going to cum!” she moaned, and I reached for her clit, fingering it so that she wouldn’t be able to control herself much longer. I knew it was working because her cheeks flushed and she pressed her eyelids tightly closed. I could feel her coming — juices seeping out as she moaned and shook under me, but I kept driving into her until I felt my orgasm building.
Just when her breathing began to subside, I pulled out and tilted my head back and wanted to howl as I directed my seed flooding out of me like a river onto her belly. Rachel moved her hips under me and watched as I stroked my cock, milking it of every last drop. I clenched my jaws as a wave of excitement flowed over me. Rachel had moved up on one elbow making no effort to close her legs. She was purposely still exposing her puffy wet pussy. So I figured she wanted some more of me.
She smiled when I thrust two fingers inside her wetness and rubbed her clit with my thumb. I wanted her to remember how Kent Walker could make her cum. I could see her face was flushed red with desire and knew she was about to have another orgasm.
A flash of resentment washed over me. So I pressed down on her clit one last time and said with a devious smile, “Rachel, now I know you like to be fucked as much as you like to read!”
When I withdrew my hand, I saw a look of confusion come over her face. “Kent… please, baby, I need just a little bit more.”
“No… now you know what you’ve been missing. You’ll have to beg me to get it again.”
Her gaze burned into my eyes as she watched me slip on my boxers. Then she licked her forefinger, and said, “Well, then I guess I will have to do it myself.” She smiled a sideways smile and started rubbing her clit. Just as I pulled my jeans up over my cock — that was getting harder and harder by the second. She slipped two fingers into her wet pussy and started rocking her hips and moaning. I stood there a moment and watched. I had to admit I never watched while a woman pleasured herself without my involvement. After she got off, she gazed over at me and gasped. "Kent."
It took every ounce of control I had, but I was driven to even the score with her. So I said, “The storm is over, and so is my work day.” When I saw how Rachel dropped her head in shame, for a moment I felt vindicated for the hurt she had caused me. I grabbed my shirt off the floor and was out the door before I had managed to zip up my fly. As I rounded the corner headed for my truck, I said to myself, "I don't know what I was thinking when I decided to come back to this fucking town!"
Chapter Eleven
Rachel
The next morning when I got up my sheets were rumpled, and my comforter was in a ball on the floor. I had spent the night cursing myself, tossing and turning, thinking about how my desire for Kent had ended in humiliation. Brushing my teeth, I gazed in the mirror and wasn’t pleased with what I saw. My eyelids were puffy, and the flesh underneath looked like two dark thunderclouds. I splashed water on my face and pulled back my hair into a ponytail. After finishing my English muffin spread with peanut butter, I sat on the back porch and sipped my hot coffee. Anxious to put the memory from the day before behind me, I surveyed the damaged fence off in the distance.
I had called Daddy before I went to bed to tell him the news about the storm. He said his trip home was delayed due to tests the doctor had scheduled and asked me to call the insurance adjuster. His voice sounded sad when he said, "Rachel, honey I'm so sorry you had to face this alone."
When he paused for a moment, I sighed and told him what I thought he wanted to hear. "Oh, thank goodness Kent was here with me when the storm hit. He was a big help with the horses." At least part of what I had said was the truth.
Anyway, that was yesterday, so I decided to saddle up TiaMaria, since she wasn't due for another six weeks, and take a slow ride along the fence line to survey the damage before calling State Farm. Besides, Kent would be here any minute, and I didn’t want to be around him.
I swallowed hard and whispered to myself, “You have to work with Kent; you know you can’t do all the work yourself.” As I slipped TiaMaria’s halter over her soft, white nose and led her out of her stall, I realized just ignoring Kent wasn’t the right solution. What was I going to do? If Daddy discovered there was tension between us, Kent would be fired immediately, and I didn’t want that either.
Just as Tia and I left the stable, I noticed Kent's pickup turning into the drive. So I gave her a nudge, and she moved out in a slow lope. I didn't bother turning around to greet Kent with a wave. Instead, I was trying hard to forget how after we had sex, he had left me there naked without saying a kind word and rushed out like he wanted to be anywhere in the world but with me.
I couldn't believe I had allowed myself to fall into his arms — even after the frightening turn of events caused by the storm. Somehow that twister must have rattled my brain. I felt shameful and embarrassed how I went along with it and even asked for more after it was obvious he was done with me. I tried to blot out the mental image of me lying there fingering myself like some horny teenager. I should have known not to allow him to kiss me. But it was too late, and now I was left dealing with the consequences.
Within a few moments, I heard the pounding of hooves coming up behind me. Of course, it was Kent — who else would it be? And I figured he was riding Licorice. Sure enough, he caught up with Tia, stopping right beside me. I turned my face away, and just as I expected, Kent ignored me as well. I was tired of his games and tired of trying to play nice. Just before we got to the place where the wooden fence had been reduced to splinters, Kent shook his head, and said, "Wow, we were lucky. We could have been history!”
The sound of his voice made it impossible to put the thoughts of the previous afternoon out of my mind. I recalled the image of his nude body — buff, sexy— his piercing green eyes and the way he had possessed me. Then, I hated to admit it, but a thrill ran down my spine, and I could feel my pussy wanting more of him. I was ashamed that I felt that way and I wanted to hate him with vigor. I wished I could despise him just as much as he seemed to despise me, but I couldn’t bring myself to act with hatred. I was foolish enough to think that I had seen a spark of something else in him the previous evening. A flash of Kent, the friend I used to know.
He had held me in his arms at first with compassion. Grateful we had survived the storm together. Maybe it was the adrenalin rush caused by our traumatic experience that turned a moment of compassion into one of passion. I had to admit with our bodies pressed together, our arms entangled, I felt like Kent cared abou
t 'us' again. But once he had gotten his rocks off, I didn't recognize him any longer.
I heard him say something about an uprooted tree that was blocking the road farther away, and I followed along behind Licorice to get a closer look. They took off in a canter, but Tia and I took our time. I didn't want him to know how the previous evening had affected me — or sense how I wished he would take me into his arms again.
All of the sudden TiaMaria balked and let out a wild neigh, snapping me out of my thoughts. I gripped the reins. What was bothering her? "Easy girl!" I cried. But she snorted and lowered her head. Then she reared up and abruptly stepped aside. I leaned over a bit searched the ground to see what had frightened her. A rattler was coiled up alongside a clump of weeds.
“Easy Easy!” I cried. I felt the tension in TiaMaria’s muscles gathering under me. “No!” I shrieked. She bucked and turned away from the reptile. The first time I hung on. But when the snake started shaking its rattle, Tia reared up again. I lost my grip on the saddle horn. I slid off her back and fell a few feet from the snake. As I scrambled to get away, I watched as the snake slithered off and hid under a log. I shook my head; I was dazed, and it felt like time had stopped for a moment. Then I felt a pair of strong hands under my armpits lifting me up.
“Rachel,” I heard Kent whisper as he was cradling me in his arms. I blinked. As my head cleared from the shock, I could see his face with clarity. He was peering into my eyes. His brow was furrowed, and his lips were firmly pressed together with worry.
“I'm all right,” I said, my voice a whisper.
He lifted me up on Licorice and set me behind the saddle. I gasped for a moment, afraid Licorice might buck, too, since he wasn't used to anyone riding doubles. I had to wrap my arms around Kent as Licorice started off at a trot toward the house. “We need to take you to the doctor,” I heard him say gruffly. I wondered if I were dreaming as I gripped his waist and breathed in his masculine scent.
“I don’t need a doctor; I was just thrown off a horse. Nothing is broken or bruised, and what about poor Tia?” I whispered.
“You don’t know that! I’m taking you to the doctor,” he said with authority. Then he continued, “If she doesn’t follow us, I’ll ride back to get her.” I knew that there was no point in resisting. He had already made up his mind, and he was going to take me to the doctor — come hell or high water.
When he arrived at the stable, he heard hooves thudding behind us. Tia had followed us home. Gently, as if he were handling a newborn baby, he helped me down, and I was grateful that Daddy wasn't around to see me. He would have made a big fuss as well. Quickly, he unsaddled the horses while I sat on an old chair at the back of the stable. When he was finished, he looked into my eyes and placed his hands on my shoulders. "Where's your purse?"
"Inside on the counter by the pantry."
"Let me help you into my truck and you wait there while I go get it,” Kent said, peering at me, bossy as ever. I wanted to roll my eyes at him, and I suppressed a giggle. Kent's behavior was so ridiculous it was humorous. I was perfectly fine, yet, I sensed his panic was genuine. So I did what I was told more out of a need to please him than out of concern for myself.
Chapter Twelve
Kent
We were both quiet for a few moments. Rachel was looking out the truck window, and I was gripping the steering wheel so hard my fucking knuckles were turning white. I was trying not let my PTSD render me a blithering idiot, but I was losing the battle.
My head was racing, reviewing the mental images of Rachel lying limp on the ground with a rattlesnake coiled up, ready to strike, only feet away from her head. For a few moments, I stayed focused on the situation, helping Rachel up, but soon after my PTSD took over.
The accident reminded me of Marcus lying limp in my arms while I watched his life ooze out of him and how my efforts to help him were useless. A renewed fear had driven my desire to get Rachel to the doctor to ensure no serious injuries lurked under the surface.
I could sense Rachel looking over at me from time to time, but I kept my eyes on the road, cruising just over the speed limit toward Cody's West Park Hospital. I didn’t want to face her and chance her noticing the fear in my eyes. What I needed was for her to trust me, but so far I figured I had failed miserably.
“Kent…” she breathed my name softly and waited for a response. So I gave her one. I clenched my jaw and tromped the accelerator, racing pass a truck pulling a horse trailer. Just as the cab of my truck came even with his, I flipped him off, and hollered, “Don’t you know how to drive, you stupid mother fucker?”
Rachel shook her head and probably rolled her eyes, but I wasn’t looking at her when she said, “Really, I’m fine! You don’t need to be in such a hurry. Settle down, Kent!”
I knew she was okay. Earlier my eyes had scanned over her body for bruises and broken bones. There was no swelling, no blood, and she wasn’t dazed or concussed. Yet, I couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened to her — a broken leg or a rattlesnake bite. I knew if the accident had been serious, though, there was no doubt I would have gone crazy!
As I pulled under the covered entrance to the emergency room, I turned to face her, and said, "Stay right there, and I'll get a wheelchair."
Rachel grabbed my hand before I got out. Her eyes were wide, and her voice was kind when she said, "Kent, I can walk. Go on and park and meet me inside." I felt my face flush with both anger and embarrassment as I walked around to her side of the truck and helped her out, slamming the door. I could park the damn truck later.
When we got inside, I pointed to a nearby chair and indicated I expected her to sit there. Then I stalked up to the counter, palming my hair, rang the bell, and whispered, "Unbelievable; I need to ring a little fucking bell before getting attention in the emergency room!"
Moments later an obese woman — she would never have made it in the military — dressed in blue scrubs with her hair pulled back in a tight bun looked over her glasses at me. "How can I help you, sir?"
“Where’s the doctor?” I hissed. Then I turned and gestured at Rachel, and continued, "I have a young lady here that was thrown from a horse." I noticed when the nurse looked at Rachel she squinted her eyes trying to adjust the angle of her glasses as she assessed the situation.
Then she turned and pressed the button to unlock the door and walked around in front of Rachel, and asked, "What seems to be the problem, hon?"
Rachel grinned and glanced down at the floor with her hands in her lap but before she could answer, I growled, "Where the hell is the doctor?"
"Sir, please be patient. There was a bad accident at the Stampede Arena —"
"What happened?" I asked.
"I can't name any names; that would be a HIPPA violation. But two cowboys were gored by a bull."
Rachel gasped and looked up at her. "Oh, my God! I hope they’re going to be all right!” Then she cleared her throat, and continued, “I was just a bit shook up at first, but now I'm feeling fine. I don't want to take up the doctor’s time.”
I slammed my clenched fist into the palm of my other hand, but when the nurse raised an eyebrow and shook her finger at me, I figured I had pushed things to the limit. Then she threw her shoulders back and peered into my eyes. “Do I need to call security?"
“Kent! Let’s go! I'm okay!” Rachel’s voice was pleading this time. Then she turned to face the nurse, and continued, “I’m sorry ma'am, it’s no big deal. If I don't feel well in the morning, I'll make an appointment with my family physician.” Rachel reached down to grab her purse before she stood up.
The nurse nodded and brushed a lock of hair out of Rachel's face before she said, "You seem fine dear. I believe your friend here is a bit overprotective." Rachel grinned and nodded her head. Then without waiting for me to defend myself, the nurse turned and retraced her steps. After swiping her identification card through the lock, she disappeared inside and the door banged shut behind her.
“Let’s go,” Rachel said, an
d even though she had a grin on her face, her eyes were narrow and stern, almost like she was giving me an order. This time I didn’t argue. Instead, I kept my mouth shut and followed her back to the truck. After I had reached the driver’s side, my heart was pounding so hard I wondered if I was the one who needed to see a doctor. Just after I pulled the key from my pocket and slid behind the wheel, I felt Rachel's delicate hand on my knee.
“Kent…I’m fine. I’m not hurt…please, just calm down,” she said. I gazed over at her beautiful brown eyes and noticed how her hair cascaded down behind her back — in silky waves. Her lips were a dull, rosy color. I gulped and sat dumbstruck as I admired her beauty both inside and out. “I think what I need is a drink!” she exclaimed in a lighter voice as a smile washed over her face. I couldn’t stop looking at her. I was impressed at the way she had handled our situation with the nurse. If it had been left up to me, I probably would have been arrested.
“Why don't you drive us over to the Silver Dollar Saloon? I think we could both use a drink and something to eat,” she suggested. I blinked, as I began to feel my panic and anger subside. She was right. She wasn’t hurt. I was overreacting — my damned PTSD reared its ugly head again and made a fool out of me.
“Okay,” I said and started the truck.
It was happening to me all over again. As much as I had tried to resist Rachel, she was taking hold of my emotions, and this time I wasn't going to run away. I felt we might have a second chance if it weren’t for my PTSD. I was falling deeper for Rachel than I had ever dreamed was possible. Now that I had tasted her and felt her sweetness, I had come to the same conclusion I had in high school — Rachel was the only woman for me.
Suddenly, I wanted to tell her everything — I wanted her to see straight into my soul. But I had to get help with my PTSD if we were ever going to have a normal relationship.
Chapter Thirteen
Rachel
Renegade Ridge Page 21