by Fiona Miers
“Come on,” Hannah yelled over her shoulder as she passed him at an outright gallop.
Her horse jumped the fence with feet to spare. The large body of his horse went up and over the obstacle and John felt the awe in him grow. He loved the power of his stallion, the muscle, the strength. Each step, each jump emphasized the power that was leashed.
Hannah pulled off her long coat that hid her costume and revealed her riding breeches and a shirt. It dropped to the grass as she raced along. Next, she pulled her hat off that contained her unbound hair and it uncoiled down her back. Long, flame-colored, sunshine tresses flowing behind her.
John gasped as pre-cum wet his riding breeches. She was incredible. A virtual goddess on horseback
John could barely think, unable to do anything but imagine bending Hannah over and taking her like an animal. What had happened to him?
They slowed as they reached an incline, finally stopping at the top of the hill.
Hannah turned to him. “Brutus loves to run, so if you can keep up, we’ll gallop as far as he’ll go, then stop, turn around and gallop back here again.”
John smiled at the challenge in Hannah’s eyes. He was a keen horseman and he knew his blood lines. Hannah’s horse wasn’t a pure breed, but he had been bred for size and speed. He had long lean muscles and was taller than even John’s stallion.
“Ladies first,” John indicated in the direction they were to ride.
Hannah made a loud whooping noise and dug her heels into the side of her horse. He broke into an instant gallop and fell into an easy rhythm. It was obvious to John that the horse enjoyed Hannah as his rider.
John groaned as his body responded to her once more. Images of Hannah naked except for her riding boots and crop made him harder still.
John dug his heels into his stallion’s side and set off after the devil of a woman who had bewitched him.
They rode over one paddock and cleared another fence. John concentrated on his horse’s rhythm and gave the animal his head. His animal enjoyed the chase. It had been too long for both of them.
Riding so fast meant John began to sweat, he felt it trickle down his back and from his brow. He wiped it with his sleeve, grinning. He felt alive. Sweating, wind blowing his perfectly combed locks out of their careful constructed shape. His heart was thudding against his chest in both excitement and arousal.
For the first time in a very long time, he was exactly where he wanted to be, and wouldn’t change a single thing.
****
Hannah pulled her beautiful Brutus back down to a trot. He was breathing hard and covered in sweat. He had almost reached his end point. She spotted a cluster of trees and steered Brutus that way. Hannah jumped down and turned around to see where John was, had he gotten lost?
John trotted past her, stopping his horse two tree’s away and swinging down also. He had a magnificent stallion to ride, it was hard not to admire the animal. John also handled him with a master’s touch. The perfect balance of respect and power, he didn’t even carry a crop.
John walked towards her, his skin glistening with moisture.
“How long will your horse need to rest?” John asked her as he pulled off his gloves.
Hannah met him half way, pulling her own jacket and gloves off. She wiped the sweat from her brow and looked up into the sky.
“Oh, half an hour should be enough.”
Hannah looked around them, there wasn’t a person for miles. What a relief.
Hannah turned around to see the hunger in John’s face as he swooped down for a kiss. His hands wrapped themselves around her face and Hannah grabbed at John’s waist for balance. Her starving skin moaned in time with her as John stroked the sensitive flesh of her face, cheeks, and neck.
“Oh, God do I want you,” John groaned against her neck as he ground his erection into her belly.
Hannah’s anger swelled with her arousal. She wanted him too- but that didn’t mean they could just give into their baser instincts like wild beasts!
She swung the riding crop with painful accuracy and connected with John’s backside.
He arched back, screaming in shock and pain.
“What the hell did you do that for?” John yelled at her, rubbing his behind furiously.
Hannah couldn’t help the hysterical laugh that bubbled out of her mouth. He just looked so ridiculous, buttoned up and perfect in his riding costume. Rubbing his sore behind and swearing like a sailor.
“The last time you kissed me you asked me to be your mistress; I don’t intend to give you another opportunity to do so!”
John snorted like her horse and Hannah laughed again. She hadn’t laughed this much in a long time, perhaps John was actually good for her.
“I won’t repeat the offer.”
Hannah snorted inelegantly herself. “You wouldn’t dare.”
John steadied himself and walked back over to her.
Hannah raised her crop hand but John grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. She hissed and John held her, not increasing the pressure.
“I don’t want you as my mistress, I wish I didn’t want you at all.”
John’s left hand gripped her other arm and held them pinioned behind her back. The position left Hannah completely helpless and her breasts were jutting forward. She should have been scared, she knew she should have been petrified. John was a large, powerful man. If he wanted to hurt her, he could.
And yet there was nothing but excitement threading through her body, a pulsing dance of nerves that made her breath hitch and her nipples tighten.
John’s hold on her slackened and Hannah dropped the riding crop. She didn’t want to fight him.
“Why, what’s wrong with me?” Hannah choked out, insecurities swamping her.
What was so wrong with John wanting her? The attraction between two people was normal and healthy. Why did he fight theirs? Why did he find it so wrong?
“Are you kidding me?” John gasped, moving both of his hands to grab her buttocks and hauling her against him. His arousal was thick and hard. Hannah gasped in shock as she reached out and grabbed a hold of his arms to steady herself.
“Nothing is wrong with you, that’s the problem. You are a beautiful, clever, outspoken, bloody painful woman who is driving me insane.”
John bent his head and began kissing and sucking at the skin of her neck. Hannah arched her head back to give him better access and gripped John’s arms to anchor her.
“You can’t have me you know.”
“I know I can’t. You are a marriageable virgin who should be running like mad from me.”
John punctuated his words with kisses on her skin and a roll of his hips that caused an answering pull of her own desire deep in her belly.
“Why? Because you change women like your clothes?”
John pulled back. “What have you heard?”
“That you never hold a mistress longer than six months.”
John let Hannah go and walked away from her so abruptly it was like he’d thrown a bucket of cold water on all the hot places that he’d just ignited.
Hannah watched each move John made. She needed to know how he really felt about women in general.
“That is true, I like variety.” John chuckled as though he had told a great joke and yet the smile didn’t reach his eyes. In fact, he looked cold as a fish.
“So you believe all women are the same?” Hannah asked again.
“In my life, women are interchangeable, easily replaceable. They offer relief, that is all.” John’s face had turned deathly white and he spoke as though the moments of heat and need between them had never happened.
“We’re all the same are we?” Hannah asked, placing her hands on her hips.
John swallowed and his eyes seemed troubled.
“There are exceptions, but generally I have no use for a lady outside of the bedroom.”
“And love? Where does that fit in with all your rules?” Hannah fired at him.
“
Love is for fools.”
Hannah couldn’t stop the groan that surfaced from her throat. From what she had heard then, John surrounded himself with fools.
“Do your friends know that you feel that way about them?”
John’s face dropped. “What do you mean?”
“All three of your best friends have made love matches, does that make them all fools?”
John swallowed and looked down. He kicked at a clump of dirt and looked over to where the horses were happily eating grass.
“My friends are the exception.”
Hannah sighed, John was so full of contradictions. “And you? Are you not also an exception?”
John’s head snapped up. “I will not fall in love. I’m not capable of it.”
“You mean you don’t want to, because of your father?”
“You don’t know anything about my father.”
“I know that he has a long-term mistress that he obviously loves. It’s a pity really. I feel sorry for him. He has spent half his adult life in love with a woman who isn’t his wife.”
John laughed with darkness filling his tone. “A pity? Is that what you call it? A pity that he has made my mother miserable? A pity that we have spent our whole life cooped up in London because we didn’t want to go to the country estate? Is it…” John stopped abruptly.
Hannah saw anger and regret running over John’s face.
“Go on.”
John shook his head. “No.”
“You’ve never really spoken about this have you?”
John glared at her and Hannah glared back. It was clear to her that no woman or man ever challenged John and he needed it. Just as her stallion needed to run, John needed to be pushed.
“No, I haven’t. It is not suitable for polite company.”
And here came John’s classic defence. He would hide behind his social armor and avoid her as long as he could.
“Oh yes, you are the epitome of gentlemanly conduct. Don’t think you can fool anyone but yourself John. You are no gentleman, and you should realize that.”
Hannah walked back over to her horse and pulled herself up into the saddle.
They rode back to the house in complete silence, a strange rift between them where before there had been a connection.
Hannah walked her horse into his stable and stayed with him, unable to face a man who couldn’t even be honest with himself.
Chapter 6.
John watched her walk away and handed his reins to his stable hand. He listened to her a moment as she crooned to her horse, then he walked away. It would not pay to remember just how amazing and different she was.
John headed straight to his room and had a long hot bath. He needed to find a new mistress quickly. He was frustrated and he needed the release that only a woman could give.
He thought about it for a moment, then recalled the letter he had received last week. His old mistress was having trouble finding new accommodations and since he hadn’t replaced her yet, he had allowed her to stay until she had found somewhere suitable.
He could visit her one last time and then he was sure this stupid infatuation with the American would disappear for good.
The next morning John awoke and got ready early. He had plans for the day and none of them included seeing a red-haired American woman who made his night time hours almost unbearable.
He was hurrying down the stairs when he tripped and fell. Pain searing up the inside of his leg as he twisted and landed badly several steps down.
He tried not to call out as fire shot up his calf, but the loud bang alone was enough to have people come running.
The footmen crowded around him as John pulled himself into a seated position, sweat breaking out on his forehead as the pain screamed inside his head.
“Out of the way, please.”
John heard Hannah’s voice and closed his eyes. She was the last person he wanted to see. And the very last person he wanted to see him in such a way.
“Jennings, call for some ice and could you two please help John up so that he can sit on the chaise in the sitting room?”
John opened his eyes in surprise. That was the most sensible course of action, by far. Who would have known that a lady could think of such a thing?
“Wouldn’t it be better to get him back to his bedroom?” The old butler asked.
John groaned aloud at the idea of being hoisted up two flights of stairs. Before he could tell the butler that he couldn’t do that, Hannah came to his rescue again.
“Certainly not. Imagine carrying him up all those stairs and the pain he’d endure. Please see to the ice, and you two there, please help John into the sitting room.”
Hannah walked off and John was left with the footmen. They pulled him into a sitting position and dragged him to his feet. He bit his lip when he put weight on his ankle, but the two men soon supported his weight enough so that he could hobble into the sitting room.
Hannah had placed all the cushions up one end and pointed at the opposite end.
“Sit there and place your leg on these cushions. Where is the ice?”
John moaned again when he sat and swung his leg up, more sweat covering his face as nausea rolled through him.
Hannah shooed the footmen away and came back to make sure he was comfortable. She placed another pillow behind his back and went to the sideboard and pulled out the whiskey decanter. John watched on in silence as Hannah poured two glasses. One small and one overly large. Unsurprisingly she walked back over and handed him the full one.
“Are you well?” She enquired, sitting down on the chair opposite him.
John was surprised to see the signs of worry on Hannah’s face. She sipped at her whiskey and her voice was calm, but her hands were shaking.
“Yes, bruised and sore. But yes. Thank you.” John felt like he was reassuring her when he was the one hurt. “Thank you for stopping them from carrying me upstairs.”
Hannah dropped her eyes away from his.
“I was scared when I heard you yell, but I’m glad you’ll only have a few bruises.”
“Yes, to add to my already purple bruises from your riding crop.” John teased.
That got the reaction he wanted when her head shot up and her eyes narrowed. Her fear for his safety diminishing as she gripped her glass.
“If you didn’t try to kiss me all the time I wouldn’t have to resort to violence.”
John laughed and opened his mouth without thought. “Oh, baby, you’ve been using violence with me since the day we met.”
Hannah gasped in horror as John keeled over laughing. He laughed and laughed until his sides ached.
When he looked back at her, Hannah was smiling with her head cocked to one side.
“What’s wrong?” He asked her, grinning.
“Nothing, you just…” Hannah stopped herself and blushed again.
“Don’t tell me you’re speechless Hannah. I can’t believe that you won’t say what you are thinking.”
Hannah blushed again. “You will take it the wrong way.”
“I sincerely doubt it.” John smiled, knowing that no matter what she said to insult him it wouldn’t change the fact that she ran to him when he needed her to.
“I was just thinking… are you in pain?” Hannah asked as John grimaced.
He shifted his leg on the pillow trying to find a comfortable position. His whole foot was burning now.
Hannah stood up and moved over to him. She reached out and began to slowly undo his boot.
“If I take this off we can apply the ice directly to your ankle.”
John swallowed as the pain dulled. Her mere presence was soothing to him. He laughed to distract himself.
“I’m not sure about putting ice on my ankle. Maybe a warm bath would be better?”
Hannah shook her head, no. John felt her fingers brushing aside the laces of his boot and touching the skin of his leg.
Fire raced in his groin.
“I can do that,” he began
, leaning forward to brush Hannah away.
She smacked his hand like a five-year-old child and John automatically laughed. Would this woman ever stop surprising him? She took the ice from the surprised butler and John flicked his head to indicate the butler was to leave. The old man bowed himself out.