by Oliver, Tess
“Bentley usually tries to push the buttons of any new rider to see how much he can get away with. I’d say he figured out pretty quickly that Rodeo wasn’t going to take any nonsense.” She turned to me. She was one of those incredible, naturally pretty girls. “I’m Kensington. You must be Sayler. Cute name, by the way.”
“Thanks. Yours too. It’s very—”
“Long? Please call me Kensie.”
“I was going to say elegant.”
We both stared in the direction where Parker and Bentley had disappeared into the trees.
“Sure hope Bentley doesn’t give him any trouble. He hates to ride through trees. Scary squirrels and all those other menacing creatures.”
“I’ve never seen a horse that Parker couldn’t handle. Knowing him, he’s probably grinning from ear to ear riding that horse, especially with the prospect of a good chase.”
“Finley will be so upset if something happens to that horse.”
“I haven’t met Finley, but I’m sure she knows animals enough to understand that they, and particularly the big ones like horses and cows, do stupid things.” I pointed ahead to where the mustang was still grazing on the weed patch. Parker was riding toward the horse from the opposite side. “I don’t think you’ll need to worry.”
The mustang had a big clump of weeds hanging from its mouth as its head popped up. The second it saw Parker and Bentley, it shot off in our direction.
Parker leaned down over Bentley’s neck and kicked him into a gallop.
Kensington’s mouth dropped open. I was sure she’d voice her concern that her horse might get hurt running through the rough terrain.
“Jeez, no wonder they call him Rodeo. He’s got a great seat and I’ve never seen Bentley gallop so smoothly, especially with a stranger on his back.”
Parker and Bentley had to weave back and forth to keep the mustang going in the direction of the vineyard gate.
“Holy smokes, my finely bred warmblood thinks he’s a cutting horse.” She smiled and pulled out her phone. “I’ve got to get a picture of this. My riding friends won’t believe me unless they have visual proof.” She lifted the camera, snapped a picture and sent it off.
The mustang had run down into the ravine and as it ran up the other side, it met face to face with Parker and Bentley.
“The mustang is getting tired. Look at his sides. He’s no match for your horse.”
“Poor animal was all skin and bones when they rescued him. I think he’s put on about a hundred pounds since he moved into my barn.” Kensington’s phone buzzed, and she pulled it out. “Of course, the high quality grain and hay is obviously not as tasty as the spindly, dry weeds growing out here.” She glanced at her phone and laughed. “Figures. Instead of commenting on Bentley chasing down a mustang, two of my friends are asking about the hot, tattooed cowboy on my horse.”
“You’ll have to tell him,” I said. “He’ll like that.”
We watched as Parker and his mount played the mirror mime game with the mustang. The mustang seemed to be quickly coming to regret his decision to run.
“That silly, little horse is thinking ‘how the heck do I get back to the comfort and safety of the alfalfa filled barn’,” Kensington said with a laugh. She looked back toward the vineyard. “I’m a little worried that he will try and run across the grapevines. Those lines could cut him to shreds.”
“I think Parker has already figured that out.” I pointed their way.
Kensington turned her attention back to the ravine. Parker had climbed down off Bentley and was talking quietly to the mustang. The mustang snorted a few times but didn’t take off. It reared up once, but Parker kept talking to it. He walked slowly toward it until he was close enough to pat its neck. Then he slid his hand down to the lead rope dangling from its halter.
Kensington’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank goodness.”
Parker walked both horses toward us.
“You are one of those horse whisperers,” Kensington called to him.
“Nah, he was just too damn tired to run. Figured if I chased him into that vineyard, he could get into some trouble with the grapevines.” He stopped in front of us and handed Kensington Bentley’s reins.
“Funny. It’s like you read my mind,” Kensington said. “I was thinking the same thing. I guess horses are just that predictable. Although this mustang is definitely testing that generalization.”
We all walked in through the back gate of the vineyard. “Think you should get on Bentley and pony this guy home so he remembers it as a good experience,” Parker suggested.
“Yes, again, reading my mind.” Kensington pulled herself into the saddle. Bentley turned to push his big muzzle against Parker as he handed up the mustang’s lead rope.
“O.K., my horse officially has a crush,” Kensington said.
“That’s because he secretly wants to be a western horse. We talked about it on the ride over here.”
“He did look pretty happy chasing down that mustang,” I added.
“Maybe I’ll have to buy him a cow. Thanks again, Rodeo. Really nice meeting you, Sayler.”
We said our good-byes and headed out the back gate.
I took hold of Parker’s hand. “Just so you know, that little cowboy stunt has me extremely hot right now.”
“Yep. It was all part of my plan.”
“Oh, so you and the mustang had prearranged this whole thing?”
He shrugged. “You heard Kensie. I’m a horse whisperer.”
Chapter 14
Rodeo
Sayler’s elderly neighbors had come to sit under the awning stretching off the side of their mobile home. They pretended to be sipping sodas and enjoying fresh air, but it was pretty obvious their main purpose was to keep an eye on the suspicious looking, tattooed man leaning into the back engine compartment of Sayler’s VW.
I slammed down the trunk and walked to the driver’s side. I slid inside, stuck my foot down on the clutch and turned the key. It fired right up into that perfectly staccato rhythm that was expected in a classic V-dub. I turned the car off and climbed back out. I waved to the neighbors who looked stunned and a little embarrassed at first but then both lifted their sodas in a silent toast.
I climbed the steps to Sayler’s trailer and went inside. After the horse rescue, we’d gone to my house. Cole and Denver were both hanging out, so we’d decided to make the drive to Sayler’s place for a little privacy. I’d followed Sayler back, and we’d had to stop twice for me to push start her car. I had enough tools in my truck and had decided to do a little maintenance. She was going to need the car, especially now with two jobs.
Sayler was sitting on the edge of her bed hand sewing a pair of dance tights. “I’m going to need tights for the new job, and until I can afford some new ones, these will have to do.” She cut the string and placed the tights and needle on the small shelf near the head of the bed.
She’d changed out of her jeans and t-shirt into a light blue dress that was making my heart race. I wiped my hands on a paper towel but was completely focused on the girl in the hot little dress.
She sashayed toward me. The skirt of the dress was flouncy and short and fucking adorable. “I heard my car start. You’re just hitting all the right notes today, MX rider, cowboy and mechanic.” She noticed that my attention was riveted to the dress. It had a tight bodice, and it tied around the back of her neck like a bikini top. In fact, a bikini was the only thing I could think of that would have been hotter than the dress.
She held out her arms and spun around once like a ballerina. The short skirt spun around with her, lifting high enough to expose her long, firm thighs completely. “I seem to recall you complaining about the lack of sundresses in winter.”
I blinked at her. “Holy hell, woman. What are you trying to do to me?�
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She pushed her pinky against the corner of her mouth in a useless attempt to look innocent. She was anything but in that dress. “If you like, I can throw back on a big bulky sweater or something. I mean, I don’t want to cause you any distress.”
“Nope, the dress is fine, but it’s not going to stay on for long.”
She smiled. “Oh, I should probably warn you--” She slid the dress up to expose her completely naked, completely perfect pussy. “I forgot to put on underwear.”
The trailer shook as I stomped toward her and pulled her into my arms. “Damn, baby, where the hell have you been these past six years, you naughty amazing woman?” My mouth covered hers in a nearly bruising kiss as my hands slipped beneath the flimsy cotton material of the dress. She was smooth silk and hot cream all poured into one incredible girl.
I spun her around, grabbed her wrists and placed her hands against the kitchen counter. I pushed the dress up above her waist and with light teeth, I bit the cheek of her ass like a perfect round apple. She mewled in appreciation as I continued to nibble her naked flesh.
“Sorry, baby, that dress already has me at the edge of the fucking cliff. No time for teasing or playing.” I slapped her bottom lightly, grabbed her waist and spun her back to face me. She sucked in a shocked breath when I lifted her up onto the counter. She wriggled her dress up above her waist as I unbuttoned my pants.
She bounced her bottom on the counter. “Hope this thing will hold.”
“Don’t know.” I shoved my pants down, and my cock sprang free. “The way I’m feeling right now, we might just roll this whole fucking tin can onto its side. Really give your nosy, old neighbors a show.” I reached between her thighs and pushed them wide. Then I spread her pussy wide with my fingers, rubbing the tips through the slick moisture already pooling there. “Ah hell, darlin’, I’m about to come just touching you.”
I scooted her ass forward and pressed between her thighs. She wrapped her long legs around me and leaned back on her hands as I pushed hard and fast inside of her.
“Parker, that’s what I need.” Her eyes drifted shut. I watched her face, her parted lips, the flutter of her long dark lashes as I pounded into her again and again. I slid my hands beneath her ass and my fingers dug into her naked flesh as I held her tightly against me. I moved my legs so my cock dug deep and up to the most tender parts of her pussy. She groaned in pleasure as I hit the magic spot that would make her come. Her thighs tightened around me. “Oh, Parker.” My name drifted so erotically off her lush pink lips that my balls tightened and my cock ached to be finished. But I clenched my teeth and held back. I needed her to come. I wanted badly to watch her melt into that delirious puddle of ecstasy. I continued my onslaught, contracting my ass and pushing deeper each time, making sure to reach the spot she wanted me to touch.
A pink blush covered her shoulders, neck and face as she squeezed her pussy around me. “Oh shit, Parker!” She cried out my name and whimpered softly as I rocked hard against her, wanting her to feel every blow.
She curled her arms around me and her legs trembled as they tightened more around me. She reached down and grabbed my ass and held me tightly as my body tensed and I exploded inside of her.
I kissed her mouth and lifted her into my arms, still holding her over my cock as I carried her to the bed in the corner. It creaked against the wall as we collapsed onto the mattress. “Well, it’s official.” I squeezed my arms around her. “You can’t ever leave me. Shit, Sayler, I love it here and I love my job and riding freestyle, but I’m seriously regretting my decision to leave Montana without you. I left you behind with that jerk, and you should have been right here with me.”
“I’m here now, Parker. That’s all that matters.”
Chapter 15
Sayler
Parker had stayed the night in my terribly cramped little space, but it had been cozy and fun. When we were together, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. He’d left early to go to the motocross track with Cole. He was disappointed when I told him I couldn’t go along. Sunday had been the one morning my new boss, Jane, had free to talk about my new position. She’d shown me around the studio and talked about some of the routines and class levels and my new schedule. I’d be working early mornings with little ones who were too young for school and then again in the after school hours with the older kids. Classes ended at six which gave me plenty of time to get home and get ready for my far less likable job at the club. Thankfully, Parker had tuned up my car. Otherwise trying to figure out a bus schedule would have been a nightmare.
I left Jane’s dance studio with a brand new pair of silvery pink ballet slippers that she’d bought but had never worn. They fit my feet perfectly, and I was thrilled. It had been a long time since I’d had my feet in a pair of proper ballet shoes.
I climbed into my car and pulled the phone out of my purse. There was a text from Parker. “I need my good luck charm. Took a spill and managed to take off several layers of skin from my arm. Ripped my jersey good too.”
“Just got out of my meeting. Anything broken?”
The phone rang. It was him. “Just my pride.” Motorcycles rumbled in the background. “You should come provide some much needed sympathy, and some kissing would be nice. And wear that dress. That’ll make the whole day better.”
I smiled thinking about what he’d said the night before as he held me in bed. He seemed to need me just as much as I needed him. “Might be a little cold for the dress. I’d love to come nurse you, but I’ve got to go into the club early. I’m getting paid extra for helping stock the bar. My shift tonight ends at eleven.”
“I’ll meet you at the club at the end of your shift. There’s a great place nearby to play pool. I can kill some time while I’m waiting for you to get off work.”
“Sounds good. See you then.”
“Hey, if you have time, take a picture of yourself in that dress and send it my way. It’ll be my virtual first aid.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Shit, now I’m going to be hugging my phone waiting for it.”
I turned the key, and my car started right up. “Do you hear that? You’re a miracle worker. Take care of your arm, and I’ll see you later.”
On the ride home, I was visualizing what my new busy schedule was going to look like. Parker was part of that now too. With both of us working a lot, it would be hard to find time together, but I needed, more than ever, to make enough money to get Chambers out of my life. Then, maybe, for the first time since I could remember, my life would be on the right track. But I wasn’t fooling myself, the problem with Chambers was huge . . . and dangerous. I spent most of my days trying to push it out of my head, otherwise I’d be in a constant state of anxiety about it. I still held out hope that I could make some kind of deal with the man.
I pulled into the trailer park and parked my car. It was definitely great having a car to rely on again. It was nice having a decent man to rely on too. I grabbed my purse and the new slippers and nearly flew up the steps to the front door. It had been a great weekend. Even the thought of working a long night at the club couldn’t sour my mood. I turned the key, but the door opened as if I hadn’t latched it properly. It was a poorly hung door, and it had happened before. I’d even come home to a completely wide open front door on several occasions.
I stepped inside and tossed the shoes and my purse onto the counter. I hadn’t noticed the figure in the corner until he stepped out of the shadows. A scream caught in my throat, and I raced back out the door. I smacked hard into Chambers. He was wearing his usual severe, crisp gray business suit. I’d always found it humorous that he dressed like a legitimate businessman. Chambers was a big man with gray hair on his temples and small wire-framed glasses that he wore on the tip of his bulbous nose. He looked like a man who would work behind the counter of a bank or library.
“My pretty little carrier pigeon. Let’s go in and have a chat.” He motioned me inside with his head. The other man, who Chambers had always referred to as Hawk, was leaned against the wall in the trailer flipping through one of my magazines.
I backed up and my bottom hit the kitchen counter. “I have some of your money. Just not all of it.” I reached back hoping my fingers would run across something like a butter knife or fork, but apparently I’d been uncharacteristically tidy this morning.
“I’ll need all of it, my love. Just be glad I’m not charging you interest. Normally, I would.” He stepped closer to me and the scent of his aftershave clouded around me. He reached up and took hold of my chin. His fingertips were soft, not rough and callused like Parker’s. I much preferred callused. “You know, I’ve always had a special fondness for you, Pigeon. It might just be those big brown eyes or maybe it’s because you always looked so damn nervous as if someone was waiting to pop out of nowhere and grab you. But scared little rabbit or not, I need that cash.” He glanced around the trailer. “Guess you’re still hurting for money. I told you I had a friend who could help you earn real money. A girl with your looks could earn top dollar.”
“Told you I’m not interested in being a whore.”
He laughed and glanced back at his friend. “Hear that, Hawk? The stripper doesn’t want to be a whore. Hawk got a real kick out of watching you in that skimpy sailor costume. He’s got some pictures, don’t ya, Hawk?”
Hawk flashed his tobacco stained teeth. He, too, always dressed in a business suit as if he was important or respectable. But he was an exceptionally big man and his suits were never quite large enough.