Lauren

by Mima

  But, oh . . .Tom.

  “Are you here for the whole week?” she whispered.

  “Yes,” he answered just as softly. Like he was aware of the weird spell around them. “Will you talk with me?”

  “Yes,” she sighed, snuggling closer.

  They stood there, holding each other. Unbelievably, she felt peaceful.

  “This is incredible,” he said with a smile in his voice. He laid his chin down on the crown of her head. His hands moved over her, stroking, soothing.

  “I want to just stay like this. All night. And find out all about you.”

  He squeezed her. “I can do that. Sounds perfect to me.”

  Stepping back he ran a hand through his hair nervously. He went to his shirt and picked it up. When she realized he was about to put it back on, she held out a hand.

  “No. Leave it.”

  His gaze darkened. He swallowed, walked back to where she stood. “Leave it off?”

  She held her breath. She was standing in a cabin with Tom, her best friend, who she’d loved with pure fire. But they weren’t the same people anymore. She didn’t want standards so stiff they’d crack under pressure.

  She swallowed. This could go two ways. She could sit with him at the table and talk, or she could jump right into the dusty heap of the past and go for it.

  What had Walt said about her? She wanted to feel. Yes, he was right. She wanted sensation, connection, to banish the past. It’s why she’d come to Cloud Canyon and standing in front of her was the most astonishing opportunity.

  Tom lifted the shirt and held it up near his shoulder. “Are you telling me I should stay undressed in case we want to touch again?”

  She blinked. Is that what she was saying? That she wanted to touch Tom more? Or should she be smarter about this, back away from the skin hunger that had her in two strange men’s arms in the last hour?

  “Lauren.” Tom’s voice was quiet, nearly vibrating with emotion. “Do I put this shirt on? Or do I take off your robe?”

  “I think a ride would be nice. I could use a private lesson. I haven’t ridden much.”

  Luke looked at her with pity and doubt, clearly putting a sexual spin on her words.

  Laughing, she gently shoved him. “Har-de-har-har. I’m a city girl. Horses are for cops and carriages in the Park.”

  Now he outright frowned. “You really want to go riding?” He said it with a tightness that spoke of insult.

  Her brows rose. “We’re certainly not going straight to bed, if that was what you were asking!” It was wiser to stay clothed with this guy, and riding was what she’d hoped to do a lot of here.

  Lips flat, he cocked his mouth to one side and considered her. “Well, crap.”

  With a sigh, he considered a wall of iron implements that looked like they were from Madame Tussauds Chamber of Horrors. “All right. Let’s go for a ride, then.”

  With his shirt back on, he took her hand and led her past the activity at the barn.

  “Why are we walking away from the horses?”

  “We’re going over to the big pasture.”

  “Do they have ‘G’ horses there, too?”

  Luke chuckled. “You’ll do just fine.”

  “But you don’t have a saddle.”

  “Nope.”

  “Uhhh . . .” She slowed. Looking around, she decided the pasture seemed a little too far from everyone else. “I’m going to tell someone where we’re going.”

  Luke stopped. He chewed his lips as he looked at her. “We’re not even leaving the canyon, let alone the ranch. I’m not taking you anywhere. No reason for you to even leave the pasture. I’m just gonna give you a little taste of thunder.”

  It was pretty clear he didn’t like being doubted. It was also pretty clear he was used to getting his way. She pointed to the big tan barn. “I’ll just find a ranch hand. I won’t be a minute.”

  “Fine. I’ll wait on ya.”

  She felt his gaze on her ass as she walked back through the mown pathway.

  When she went into the barn, she held her breath. Empty catering tables ran along one side and hay bales stacked like bleachers lined the other. Otherwise, it was empty but for some people running cords on the far stage. No sign of Sorrel meant her breath whooshed long and deep.

  Feeling bold and reckless again, she stopped a man wheeling in kegs on a dolly and told him she was going to the far pasture with Luke. The man frowned.

  “Something wrong?”

  He shook his head. “You’re perfectly free to enjoy the ranch, Ma’am.”

  Now it was her turn to chew her lips. She nodded and returned to Luke.

  He made a manly image standing there with his arms folded, the mountains beyond. “Ready to ride?”

  She stuck her chin out. “Sure.” Heading out on a mown trail through a meadow, she asked, “We are going to get on a horse at some point and let them do the work, right?”

  “Right.”

  “What was wrong with the horses back there?”

  “I like ’em fresh.”

  “Oh! My boots. They’re back at my cabin. I should go get them. These sandals aren’t going to work.”

  He snorted. “I’m more worried about your painted-on jeans than your shoes. Indians managed it without boots.”

  “I’m not exactly Pocahontas. I might need a little more help.”

  He burst out laughing. “Wrong tribe. They didn’t have horses.”

  “It was just a funny. I didn’t know I should be historically accur—oh!”

  The hot breeze slithered through the hip-high grasses. The sun sat directly on her head, and the mountains seemed to be acting like a funnel, directing the heat straight at her face. But the discomfort vanished when the horses appeared. Their field was only ankle high, and they seemed to float on the shorter grass, their heads mostly lowered. Scattered like earth-colored jasper across a golden-green carpet, they were majestic.

  “Can I have the white one?” She actually bounced from excitement.

  He scanned and caught sight of it. “Not a good idea.” Turning his head, he looked down at her. “But okay.” His eyes were in deep shadow from his hat, which made his roguish smile all the more interesting. “That means I should take the black.”

  She found it immediately. All the other relaxed horses were brown, bay, or pintos. But the black pranced, tossing his head with all the arrogance of a frat boy at a kegger. “He’s magnificent.”

  “She, actually.”

  “You can tell from here?”

  “I know her already. Yes, she’s magnificent.”

  Revising her mental image to that of a sorority sister didn’t work. The black was more like a pampered Kardashian princess striding across her castle courtyard.

  Luke ducked under a thin wire she hadn’t even noticed. “Don’t touch. It’s electric. Wait here.”

  He went out and, with just a little dance and dodge, caught the white by her halter. He brought her over.

  Watching him walk toward her with the horse of an eight-year-old’s dream made her melt just a little. He was abrasive and dodgy, but was taking her riding. “Thanks, Black Hat. She’s wonderful. She, right?”

  “Right. Watch the fence and come on in and hold her.”

  Crawling to be extra careful, Lauren got under the fence and approached the horse. She had alert brown eyes and pointed ears flicking every which way. Close up, Lauren noticed that the horse’s coat was flecked with silver speckles.

  Slowly raising her hand up to the horse’s nose, like she did for the police horse, she cooed, “Oh my darling, you’re just a vision. Such a pretty baby.”

  With a huff, the horse blew spit all over her fingers.

  “Oh my gawd!” Leaping back, she shook her hand, grimacing and gagging. She snatched up a handful of grass and wiped at her
skin. “That is so nasty.”

  Luke sighed. “You could make a little less noise and be more calm.” The horse tossed her head and strained against his hold. “Come on over here.”

  More hesitantly, Lauren eased over. The horse stamped one massive hoof and Lauren jumped. It seemed like this giant creature could hurt her in a whole host of ways and it was sheer folly to think of getting on. “What should I do?”

  “Hold her.”

  “Like that will work!”

  “Just put your hand here.” He took her hand and wrapped it on the wide nylon strap that ran under the horse’s jaw. “Now stand there.”

  He bent over, presenting her with his ass, and picked up the horse’s hoof. To her astonishment the horse let him.

  He checked all the hooves and said, “Good to go.” Then he knelt on one knee.

  “Awww.” She battered her eyelashes at him. “Luke, this is such a surprise.”

  He tipped his hat up and patted his thigh close up to his body. “Step right here. Hold to the bottom of her mane.”

  Lauren looked doubtfully up at the mare’s back. Her spine was higher than Lauren’s head. “Uhhh . . .”

  “Hands on the mane.” He said the order softly, mildly, but the words were iron.

  To her chagrin, she let go of the halter, reached her hands way up and took the gray and white strands. They were coarse.

  “Foot.”

  She raised her foot.

  “Other foot,” he corrected impatiently.

  “Well, I don’t know!” She put her other foot on his thigh, then promptly squeaked as Luke stood, tossing her hips up into the air.

  Her leg landed on the mare’s rump, and only her grip on the mane kept her up. “Luke!”

  “No shouting.” He had the mare’s halter and patted her on the neck.

  The horse stopped shifting, and Lauren was able to scramble upright. The horse was wider than she’d expected and her thighs were spread at a ridiculous angle.

  “Move your legs forward. They don’t go down her barrel, but up on her heart.”

  He shoved her legs forward, more like sitting on a chair. It felt strange but was way more comfortable.

  Her fingers were already cramping from their death grip on the horse’s mane. “I don’t know about this.”

  “Don’t arch your back.” He pushed on her ass, driving her even farther forward. His hand twined in the horse’s mane above hers. “Here I come.”

  “Whaa—”

  With a hop and a cluck the horse was walking and he was plastered along the back of her in a ripple of muscle.

  Her breath blew out in a whoosh. “Show off.”

  He kissed her neck, mouth wide, tongue hard, teeth soft. “Relax. Welcome to bareback country. This is pure. Man and beast, skill and heart.”

  Oh. She’d found a cowboy-poet. Her shoulders eased. The ground stopped seeming so far away. His kisses rode higher, up behind her ear.

  There was no doubt about it. This guy was trouble. She shouldn’t be here, with a disreputable sort. He’d been charming and harsh by turns at the corral, at the stable, and now at the field. But here she was, riding a Barbie Dream Princess horse through a pristine field—and he was behind her, their bodies swaying together. His thighs were against and slightly under hers. His arms were around her, his shoulders flaring wide on either side. And his face so close that his hat shaded them both.

  A bird called, a horse nickered, the wind shushed gently through the tall tasseled grass dotted with wildflowers. She grinned, tension easing, shoulders dropping.

  “There now,” he whispered. “Ain’t it sweet?”

  They’d called him Sweet Luke. She’d thought it was facetious, with his edge and temper and ego. This was another side of him, the same side that had accepted her distance with his explicit innuendo back in the stable, albeit with poor grace.

  “Yes.” She leaned against him. “It’s amazing.” Her head rested against his shoulder.

  Her body softened, rolling with the horse’s easy walk. Her arms out in front of her on the mane were no longer comfortable if she was going to lounge, so she transferred them to his thighs.

  He chuckled. “Do horses get you hot?”

  “Not really,” she said honestly. “Do they get you hot?”

  “Hell, yeah. They make me feel like a stallion. I got to show off, I got to trumpet, I got to prance and if I have to, I can fight.”

  She chuckled. Her hands slid up and down on his thighs.

  He transferred one big hand to her belly, squeezed. Sighing with pleasure, she arched her back, and suddenly she was very aware that the seam of his fly lined up with the crack in her ass. He took her invitation and his hand slid under the hem of her shirt. The touch of his callused hand on her warm skin made them both hiss.

  “Stallions are good with more than their pride.” He bent down to her shoulder again, kissing up to her ear. “They ride their fillies with great big dicks.”

  His chest rumbled against her back with the low suggestion. She pictured herself on her hands and knees in this field, with Luke’s fine bare ass flexing as he sank into her from behind. She’d seen enough of him already to know that was likely not wise. But flirting was fun.

  Her hands left his thighs to reach up and behind her head, clasping over his neck and pulling him down to her. Their mouths slid together, firm, hot. Sweet light shimmered through her jaw. Luke was a great kisser. He was surprisingly gentle but in no way tentative. Sucking on her tongue, he nipped her bottom lip.

  Her lashes fluttered up as he pulled away. He was still close enough that she could see his dark gaze was more chocolate than night. His nostrils flared when his hand slid higher and completely covered her breast. She was slight so she didn’t feel the need to wear a bra unless she was at work. He seemed to appreciate that. His fingers massaged, pulled, then gave her nipple a vicious little twisting pinch that had her flinching in surprise.

  Before she could say anything his hand was heading south into her pants and his mouth was on hers again, harder this time, going deep right away, denying her tongue any playtime. Angling her chin, Lauren was about to put a stop to his spike in aggression when his fingers found the hollow below her waxed mound. His big, hard, rough fingers slid through thick liquid to a point on her body that made every muscle turn to lightning.

  “Hunh.” How eloquent of her.

  His finger rubbed in short, hard circles. She went rigid as pleasure ambushed her.

  “Yeah, baby,” he crooned against her lips, sliding down her throat, then up to her jaw with biting, flicking licks while she panted.

  She was presented on top of a horse in the middle of a field. Arched, splayed, with an enormous hot blue sky and a wall of wild mountains. From somewhere in her consciousness, a wolf howled. A female wolf.

  Sinking her French manicure into his neck, she bit his lip as he returned to her mouth. All he did was chuckle as their kiss went wild. He grabbed her clit in two fingers and rubbed, squeezing. She jerked so hard in his arms the horse tossed her head, but Lauren only dimly registered that.

  “Ohhohhohhhh . . .” she whimpered in a throaty voice as her body shook and trembled.

  “Yeah, fuck yeah, c’mon.” His dark words muttered into her mouth as he kissed her through the electric pleasure, scissoring his fingers, spinning her on.

  When it finally ended, she yanked her hands down from his neck to the wrist that disappeared into her tight jeans. “Too much!”

  He chuckled, nibbled on her neck, and released her, grabbing possessively at her mound before sliding free in a cloud of her scent.

  He raised his hand up to his mouth and sucked a finger with relish. Then held out the hand to her. “Want some?”

  “Uh. No. Thanks.” She still sprawled loose on the walking horse, but found her own spine again, rising up from his full
support.

  He finished licking, then wiped his hand on his thigh. “Ah.” He sat up straighter, seeming energized. “Isn’t this great?”

  She smiled. What a player he was. “It sure is. I’m glad I came riding.”

  They laughed together at the innuendo.

  “Wasn’t a full demo of my riding talent, but you get the idea.” He hiked himself up behind her, looked around the pasture with some new intensity.

  “What now?” Lauren asked.

  “Now I get my black.”

  “But you’re sharing my white.”

  “To get my black.”

  The wind seemed even warmer up here, and the horse had a very soothing swing to her walk.

  “This is nice,” Lauren said. “Let’s stick with what works.”

  He clucked to the horse, and all of a sudden it started to bounce. Her spine cracked as her head bobbled wildly. She bashed back into Luke’s jaw and then her teeth closed deep on her own tongue.

  “Huh-uh-uh-uh!” She grunted as her body flopped.

  “Shit.” Luke clucked again and the horse lunged.

  Now the movement wasn’t so jerky, but was terrifyingly fast. Every forward stretch of the white’s neck meant Lauren almost pitched off into the flashing hooves below, but every thrust of the powerful hindquarters meant she slid back like an upside down pendulum. It was awful.

  “Make it stop!” Lauren cried out.

  Luke laughed. He laughed! He clucked again, and suddenly they were supersonic. He wrapped over the top of her, his arm a bar on her waist, his legs tight along hers. She couldn’t breathe. The horse’s back was now much smoother, but the speed brought tears to her eyes from the force of the wind in her face.

  She noticed they had come up alongside three horses running with the white. Luke leaned his body hard, and the white veered in so she was stride-for-stride with the black.

  “I’m gonna go over.”

  Lauren managed to gasp in a strangled breath that may or may not have contained a bug and realized he wanted to jump from the white to the black and leave Lauren alone on this racing monster.