by Cat Johnson
FOURTEEN
MAISIE
Things hurt.
I was sore in places I’d forgotten I had . . . and a few spots I hadn’t even known existed. Not until Jamey, because Dusty had never found them.
No surprise there. Once Dusty had talked me out of my virginity, any semblance of foreplay became non-existent. Not that it mattered all that much. When it came to lovemaking, that man couldn’t find his way out of a paper sack. He was in and out. A two-minute wonder.
But Jamey . . . Jeez, the man had navigated my body like he was Magellan and I was his strait.
He’d not only found what I thought was my non-existent G-spot, he’d worked it last night until I writhed beneath him. He’d left it and the rest of me, inside and out, sore.
I wasn’t sure I could ride a horse today . . . though I wouldn’t mind riding Jamey again. I’d deal with the discomfort for another go round with that stud. My lips twitched at the thought.
“Maisie!”
Crap. My father.
Before I’d kicked Jamey out of my room, and off the farm, we’d had sex twice more. He ended up leaving just minutes before Dad’s truck pulled up the drive.
It had been a close call. I was still feeling the anxiety of how close.
I turned and forced a bored expression of nonchalance onto my face. “Yeah?”
He paused and tilted his head to one side. He studied me way too closely, his gaze sweeping my face.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
“Wrong?” My voice squeaked as I felt the color flood my cheeks. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Nothing’s wrong.”
My chest was probably red and splotchy from nerves. I was too fair skinned to be able to hide my embarrassment. And holy crap, I hadn’t even thought of it before, but what if there was a hickey on my neck?
Had Jamey left a mark on me? I resisted the urge to cover my throat with my hands.
I remembered coming so hard last night I’d ended up biting Jamey’s chest to try to be quiet. Shit. Had I left a mark on him? I hope he remembered to cover it if I had.
This was why I hadn’t had sex in years. There were too many damn family members around this farm. My dad. My son. With my rotten luck, Dusty would come strolling in any moment too and make my embarrassment complete.
This is what I got for being a bad girl in my childhood bedroom with my sexy as hell student. I was sexually satisfied but so completely self-conscious I couldn’t even enjoy it.
“So what did you want?” I asked my father, ready for this conversation to be over.
“I just wanted to tell you they’re predicting real bad lightning storms. You might want to think twice about putting the horses out today.”
Jamey’s SUV turning into the driveway caught my attention. Now things were really going to get awkward.
“Oh, okay. Yeah. Good idea. Thanks, Dad.”
What had I just agreed to again? Oh, yeah, leaving the horses in their stalls for the day because of the storms.
I was better off anyway. Knowing me, I’d barely be able to walk from the barn to the paddock and back again today without tripping over my feet.
I could hardly think now that Jamey was within a hundred yards of me. I physically felt his gaze on me as he strode toward me from where he’d parked. My legs already felt wobbly from the attention.
“Looks like your student’s here.” My father’s lips twitched with a smile.
I caught the move but didn’t comment on it. Jamey was the last thing I wanted to discuss with my father today.
As Jamey quickly covered the distance between us, I tried not to be paranoid. My father was just amused I had a famous movie star as a student, not to mention an adult male instead of my usual young girls whose parents had too much time and money on their hands.
That was all. Nothing more. He couldn’t possibly have guessed about last night. There was no way for him to know about what had happened.
When he arrived, Jamey’s smile was so wide I had to reevaluate that. My father might not know now, but if Jamey didn’t wipe that grin off his face, he’d guess.
“Good morning.” My father’s voice sounded deeper than usual. More menacing. Ominous. Christ.
Jamey’s smile died an instant death. His gaze met mine before moving to my father.
He pressed his lips tightly together and nodded. “Sir.”
We stood there, the three of us, for what felt like an eternity. No one said anything, but the air was thick with the words left unspoken.
My father shifted from studying me to Jamey. One eyebrow lifted as he brought his attention back to me. “All righty. I’m going to go . . . do something.”
He was leaving. That was a good thing. I should be happy. But damn he was acting weird. My paranoia ratcheted up another notch, or twelve.
“Good bye, sir. Have a good day,” Jamey called after him.
When my father was out of earshot I hissed, “Stop acting so suspicious.”
He widened his eyes. “Me? You look so guilty you might as well have written what we did on your face in Sharpie.”
I let out an annoyed huff. “Come on. Let’s get to work. It looks even worse if we stand here arguing.”
I turned to stalk toward the feed room, Jamey keeping pace next to me. A sideways glance told me he was smiling.
“What are you smiling about?” I demanded.
“Is this our first fight?” he asked.
“What? No, it’s not—it’s not even a fight.”
“Can we have make-up sex later anyway?” He grinned.
I glared at him even though that he was thinking about the next time we’d be together had my stomach fluttering. “Oh, shut up and help me with the feed buckets.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The next hour passed without much chatter.
Jamey was smart enough to know when to keep his mouth shut. He was probably just making sure he didn’t piss me off and ruin his chances for that make-up sex after our non-existent fight.
Either that, or he was afraid I wouldn’t let him drive the tractor out to the manure pile.
City folks, I swear. After watching his face glow with happiness every time he got to bounce across the field leaving a trail of shit in the tractor’s wake, I was really starting to believe I could sell retreats to corporations for their employees to come and shovel horseshit.
With leaving the horses in the stalls today, we were done with morning chores faster than usual. Then there were no more distractions or excuses. It was time to focus on Jamey and our lesson, and he knew it too.
He moved closer under the guise of leaning the pitchfork against the barn wall next to me and hovered there, close.
“So, what now?” he asked.
How could three simple words carry so much weight?
“Come on,” I said, turning toward the tack room.
“Where are we going?”
“On a trail ride. It’s about time you got up on a horse in a real world situation. I seriously doubt they’re going to have your character in the movie ride circles in a practice pen, so let’s go.”
“Am I ready for this?” he asked.
“I guess we’ll find out.”
I could have put him on Stardust, but I decided to ease him into his first trail ride.
He might be a city boy, but even Jamey knew I was cutting him some slack as I told him to saddle up Avis. His relief was palpable as he cooed to the old horse while slipping the bit in and the bridle on like I’d taught him.
Then those powerful thighs—the thighs I’d been between last night—made it look easy for him to swing up into the saddle.
He sat there, silhouetted against the sky, waiting and watching me.
I’d been so busy watching Jamey I’d forgotten I needed to get my own ass in the saddle. I jumped up, throwing one leg over and shoved my booted feet into the stirrups.
Reins in hand, I raised my gaze to Jamey. He was smiling. “What?” I asked.
> “I just never saw you on a horse before.”
“All right. And?”
He shrugged, his smile widening. “It’s hot.”
“Glad you think so.” I rolled my eyes to hide my embarrassment at the compliment, if I could even call it that. “And now you get to see the rear view because I’m betting you’re not going to be able to keep up with me.”
I was on Stardust. I’d trained her myself for barrel racing. She knew my cues and I knew her habits.
A cluck of my tongue as I leaned forward while applying subtle pressure with my legs and we were off, leaving Jamey behind me in a cloud of dust.
I used to compete on her, back before Charlie was born when I’d ride in the local rodeos.
That’s where I’d met Dusty, when I’d become the cliché—the cowgirl and the champion.
It sounded like the title of one of those sappy made for cable television romance movies, but it was anything but. Unlike the predictable happy ending, my life had thrown me an insurmountable plot twist or two.
And here I was again, jumping into bed with another man. One I barely knew.
I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Jamey was still behind me. He was my student, after all. I probably should go at his speed.
He’d fallen behind, so I made a tight circle with Stardust and headed back, circling again to ride up behind him.
“How do you do that?” he called back to me, trying to keep his eyes on me while also watching where he was going.
“Do what?” I asked, pulling Stardust up alongside Avis and slowing to Jamey’s speed.
“Make those tight turns while riding so fast?”
“Practice. You’ll get there too.” I laughed at the expression on his face. “Jamey, I was on a horse before I could walk.”
“See! I started too late. I’ll never be as good as you.”
“Well, maybe not as good as me.” I grinned, always amused that this big powerful guy could go from man to child with one unhappy pout of those tempting lips.
I probably shouldn’t have been so nervous last night about my lack of dating experience because men were just bigger boys and I had plenty of time dealing with one of those.
Although there was one aspect in which Jamey was all man and I had vivid memories of it.
As we rode, he started to look less like he was afraid for his life, and more comfortable in his environment.
This is where he needed to be to get experience for the movie. It had been a smart idea to take him out of the ring.
We hit an overgrown field that was fallow for the season and I slowed Stardust to a walk. Jamey looked back at me and his face flashed with a brief look of panic as I fell behind and he kept going.
I waited to see what he’d do. I wouldn’t always be there next to him. He needed to learn to think on his own.
He must have remembered what I’d told him about how to slow down and stop. Before too long he got Avis to walk.
Satisfied I was as good of a teacher as I believed myself to be, I rode up next to him and we walked the horses side-by-side, picking our path through the weeds and wildflowers until he turned to glance at me.
“Why don’t you have a dog?” he asked.
Maybe it wasn’t so smart to take him out of the ring after all, because now it seemed he wanted to chat about personal things.
Why? To get to know me better? And why was this trail ride starting to feel more like a date and less like a lesson?
“Why are you asking?” I turned his question back on him.
“Because I’ve been studying my script for the next movie and there’s a dog in the story. It got me thinking. Don’t most farms and ranches have dogs?” he asked.
“We did have a dog. He died.”
Jamey’s face fell. “Oh, man. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. It was like five years ago.” I brushed away his concern with the lift of one shoulder.
“So why don’t you get another one?” he asked.
“It was too hard on Charlie losing one. I’m not doing that to him again.”
“But he was little then. He’s older now. I know when I was a kid I wanted a dog so bad. Never did get one.”
“Then go get a dog for yourself and stop trying to push one on me.” I sent him a sideways glance.
He scowled. “I work eighteen-hour days. He’d be locked inside all day. That’s not fair to do to an animal. But you have a farm where he could run free and play . . .”
Shaking my head, I laughed. “Now you sound like Charlie.”
“Ah ha! So he does want a dog,” Jamey said in triumph
“I’m not getting a dog, so stop.” I couldn’t roll my eyes hard enough.
As if Charlie wasn’t enough for me to deal with on a daily basis, now I had Jamey on my back too.
Jamey on my back . . . At that thought a memory hit me hard. Me on my stomach and the heat of Jamey’s body pressed against my back as his weight pinned me to the mattress while he loved me.
Jeez. What had gotten into me?
I knew the answer to that. Jamey had gotten into me. Three times last night.
The uninvited voice in my head had my cheeks heating.
Apparently I’d gone from living like a nun with no sex for more years than I could count on one hand, to being a sex maniac. All after one night with this man.
At least he wasn’t a penniless rodeo cowboy. And, unlike Dusty, who used to always try to talk me out of the need for protection, Jamey always had that part covered—so to speak.
Had my taste in men actually improved over the last decade? It seemed so. Vastly. And thank God for that.
“Hmm.” That single utterance from Jamey brought me back to our discussion.
“What?” I asked. Was he still talking about my non-existent dog? Why were we still talking about dogs?
He shot me a glance and shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Jamey . . .” I hoped he heard the warning in my tone.
“Okay. I was just thinking about how you don’t get another dog because the first one died. And you haven’t gotten into another serious relationship because your first one didn’t work out.” He glanced my way again. “It just seems kind of similar, don’t you think? Like a pattern.”
“No.” I frowned. “Not at all. And stop trying to analyze me. You’re an actor, not a psychologist.”
“Fine. No more analyzing.” He was quiet for a few minutes and I was grateful. Then he said, “Maisie?”
I drew in a breath and let it out, braced for whatever would come out of this man’s mouth next. I gathered my patience and put on my teacher voice when I said, “Yes, Jamey?”
“Is it safe to be out here with that lightning?”
“What?” I twisted in the saddle to follow Jamey’s line of sight. And there it was, proving I was as shitty a horsewoman as I was a teacher, a big bank of black clouds closing in on us, just like my father had warned me about.
The crack of thunder told me Jamey hadn’t imagined seeing lightning. This was bad.
“Shit.” I shot him a glance.
He lifted his brows. “I’ll take that as a no. What do we do?”
“Get to shelter.”
He glanced at the clouds and then back to me, probably thinking the same thing I was. That we’d be riding right into the storm if we headed back to the barn.
Luckily I knew every inch of the property where I’d been born and raised and I knew right where to go.
We had time to outrun the storm and get to the equipment shed, but not enough we could be leisurely about getting there.
“Follow me.” I turned and kicked Stardust into a gallop, heading for the hay fields.
Then I remembered the experience level of the person I was riding with.
“Crap.” I eased up on Stardust, slowing our speed as I glanced behind me.
Jamey was right there. Not only keeping up with me but looking great doing it. Not just hot, which oh my god he was. But he looked good in the sa
ddle.
He was in complete control of the horse. He didn’t even have the look of fear I’d expected.
Even Avis didn’t look too bad. For an old horse, he obviously still had one good gallop left in him.
Now was not the time to compliment the horse or the rider. Trusting Jamey would be okay for the quarter mile we had left to go, I picked up speed again and urged Stardust toward the building I could see ahead.
It wasn’t much, but it had a wood roof and was big enough to shelter the horses and us until the storm passed.
The rain hit just as we neared the shed. I leapt from the saddle and, squinting against the drops pelting me in the face, saw Jamey do the same.
I pulled Stardust toward the entrance, but I’d have to really tug to get the big old rolling door open.
“Let me,” Jamey yelled over the sound of the rain pounding the earth around us.
He handed Avis’s reins to me and grasped the handle with both hands.
I watched his arm muscles flex as he heaved the heavy door. It groaned and squeaked, but yielded to his efforts.
He pulled it wide. I walked the horses in.
While looping the reins over each saddle horn, I heard him rolling the door closed behind me, cutting off most of the light streaming into the windowless building.
I turned and saw him leave the door open about six inches before he looked back to me. “That was close.”
“It was,” I agreed wholeheartedly.
The sound of another crack of lightning followed by thunder, closer this time, rocked the very boards of the building.
Jamey glanced up at the roof above us. “This thing going to be okay if we get hit?”
“My grandfather installed a lightning rod years ago.”
He raised a brow. “Good thinking.”
“Yeah, well, after the first shed burned down from a lightning strike, it was kind of a no-brainer.”
He smiled and moved closer, brushing a wet strand of hair off my forehead with one hand. “You’re all wet.”
Oh, man. He had no idea.
“So are you.” My gaze dropped to the T-shirt clinging to the muscles of his chest. With pecs like that, the man could easily enter and win a wet T-shirt contest.
He was close. So close I could feel the heat of his damp denim-clad thigh touching mine.