Ride the Fire

by Jo Davis

  Back in the barn, he fastened the horses’ lead ropes to rings on the wall, leaving a few feet between them to maneuver. Next he fetched two brushes and combs, then set all but a brush on the crate and went to work on Elvis. The big gelding practically sighed in bliss, leaning into the hard strokes as Sean cleaned away weeks of dirt and mud from his sides and belly.

  “Feels good? Wouldn’t mind getting the same treatment myself.”

  “I’ll tie you up and see what I can do.”

  Eve’s sultry voice—not to mention that image—set his groin on fire and had him grinning as he straightened and met her amused gaze over the gelding’s back. “If anyone’s going to be tied up, it’s you, honey.”

  “Think so?”

  “I know so.”

  She strolled toward him, her mood playful. “Will I like it?”

  “Guaranteed or your money back.”

  “Oh, I don’t think I’ll require a refund.”

  Sweet Jesus, she looked edible in snug jeans, her hair loose around the shoulders of her rust-colored cotton shirt. A little defiant, too, and he liked that. A lot.

  “Come here and grab a brush.”

  “I just got here and already you’re putting me to work.” But she appeared eager as she approached.

  “Slow,” he cautioned. “Never approach a horse too fast or make any sudden moves, no matter how tame they are. And if you walk around their back end, don’t get too close in case one kicks.”

  Taking his advice, she slowed her steps and gave both horses’ rear ends a respectful distance. “Is it their day at the salon?” she teased, coming around to where he stood brushing Elvis.

  “More like a quick brushing, a workout, and then a grooming. Up for a ride?”

  Her animated expression betrayed excitement. “I’d love to. I haven’t ridden since Girl Scout camp, though.”

  “It’s not hard. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He handed her the extra brush. “Why don’t you spoil Mariah? She loves to be brushed and she’ll be your best buddy from now on.”

  “Sure.” Tool in hand, she turned to the mare and applied the bristly side to her smooth neck. Like most novices, she barely put any muscle into the strokes.

  “Harder, like this.” He demonstrated, putting his elbow into it, chuckling as Elvis practically lay over on him in pleasure.

  “Okay.” She copied his example, and soon both horses were ready for saddling.

  “All right, that should do it. Let me get the tack and we’ll saddle them.”

  He made a couple of trips fetching thick blankets, saddles, and bridles, then motioned her to watch while he readied the gelding. The blanket went on first, and then he tossed the saddle onto the gelding’s back. He reached under the horse’s belly to grab the cinch and tighten it through the ring on his side—and laughed.

  “What?” Eve looked on in curiosity.

  “See his stomach? An old equine trick. He’s holding his breath.”

  “Why would he—oh! He doesn’t want the strap thingie to be tight.”

  “Exactly. And in the middle of our ride, he’ll let out his breath and the cinch will loosen, which can dump a rider on his or her ass when the saddle slips sideways.”

  “So how do you prevent that from happening?” She seemed truly interested.

  “Watch.”

  Reaching under the gelding’s belly, he tickled the big guy’s stomach just like one would tickle a baby. The horse released a breath and he tightened the cinch, tying it off before the stomach bloated again.

  “See? Easy.”

  She laughed. “Neat tactic.”

  “It works almost every time. Want to saddle your ride?”

  “Sure. How difficult can it be?”

  “Quite, if your mount is in a surly mood. Most days, though, these guys are very cooperative.”

  In short order, she had Mariah saddled. He helped show her how tight the cinch should be to prevent a fall, and then all that was left was the bridles. Removing the halter, he slipped the bit between the gelding’s teeth and fastened the bridle, holding the reins securely.

  “Good boy,” he praised, fishing a baby carrot from his pocket. He held out his hand, palm flat, and Elvis snatched the treat with his lips and began to chew. Giving his attention to Eve, he said, “Your turn.”

  After a brief hesitation, she mirrored his procedure. She might be a rookie, but she wasn’t afraid, he gave her that. It made him beyond happy to see her sharing one of his passions. Even if Mariah clamped her teeth together and refused to take the bit.

  “Uh, what now? She won’t open up.”

  Reaching into his pocket, he handed her a carrot. “Give her this. Put it in your palm and hold your hand out flat. When she takes the treat, slip in the bit.”

  “Sneaky.” It worked like a charm, and she squealed in delight. “I did it! Why do they fall for that? I wonder.”

  “I don’t think they fall for anything so much as they simply choose to tolerate us. If a horse truly doesn’t want to do something, no man can make him.”

  “Hmm, makes sense. Are we going now?”

  “Let me strap the blanket and our lunch on the back and we’re ready.”

  “Lunch?” She eyed the container, apparently noticing it for the first time. “A picnic?”

  “Nothing fancy, just ham sandwiches and chips. Is that all right with you?”

  “Sounds great!”

  Her enthusiasm was catching and he realized he was looking forward to this immensely. “Come around on her left side, grab the saddle horn with your left hand, and place your left foot in the stirrup. I’ll be right here beside you and she’s not going anywhere.”

  As Eve got into place, he looped the reins over the mare’s head and tucked them into Eve’s left hand. “Hold the reins and the saddle horn—this way when you mount, she’ll be in your control. Now bounce a couple of times, haul yourself up, and swing your right leg over.”

  The first attempt was aborted as the mare sensed that Eve didn’t know what she was doing and danced a bit. Sean calmed the horse and urged Eve to try again. This time was successful, and she grinned from ear to ear.

  “Oh, wow. This is like sitting on top of a building!”

  “Always feels that way the first few times.” He took her hands and showed her how to hold the reins. “Not too tight or she’ll back up. Just a bit loose, like this. When you want to go left or right, just move your arm in that direction, lay the reins on her neck gently, and she’ll follow directions. When you want to stop, pull back gently and say, ‘Whoa.’ Don’t ever jerk back hard because their mouths are very sensitive. Got all that?”

  “I think so.” She didn’t look sure.

  “Don’t worry.” He patted her knee. “I’ll take the lead and she’ll follow Elvis. She’s a sweet-tempered soul, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry.”

  After securing the blanket and lunch container, he swung onto Elvis’ back, urging him out of the barn. He guided them alongside his fenced-in pasture to where it finally ended, taking them into the hills and to freedom. Her giggles did nothing to ease the stranglehold his jeans had on his cock, or loosen the vise around his heart. God, he was a goner.

  Once they’d gone half a mile or so, the trail widened some. He waited for her to bring the mare alongside him, and they rode in companionable silence until she gave in to the questions he could see churning in her head.

  “Sean?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You don’t really talk much about your life growing up. Did you go to school here?”

  “Chattanooga. My parents lived there until right before I married Blair, when I was still in the service. My dad was a pilot and was killed in a single-engine plane crash, and my mother died of cancer the next year. We were all close.”

  “Oh, Sean. I’m so sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago.” But the pain of loss never completely went away. “I have family in Texas, my uncle Joe, aunt Clara, and my cousins and their k
ids. I’m pretty close to them, too, though I don’t get to visit often. So, when do I get to meet your mother?”

  “Soon, maybe.”

  Her hesitance grated. “Are you ashamed of me?”

  “Because you’re white?” She stared at him, incredulous.

  “Because I’m an alcoholic.”

  “No. I’m absolutely not ashamed of you for any reason, and don’t think otherwise,” she said firmly.

  “You’re the one who assumed I meant because I’m white,” he pointed out. “Will I already have that strike against me because of your father running out on you both?”

  Her lips thinned and her eyes flashed. “Listen to me good. My mother is a wonderful, gentle soul who was badly hurt by that man. And yes, she might worry because she doesn’t want me to repeat her mistakes, but she’s going to love you once she gets to know you. Just be yourself and let’s put the color issue to rest, okay?”

  “All right,” he promised. “You won’t hear another word about that from me.”

  “Good.”

  He couldn’t help but worry about the issue rising later, but he’d heed her wishes. The tension dissipated as they rode on, soaking up the sunshine. They talked about the upcoming charity auction and Sean grimaced at her suggestion.

  “I think you should do a striptease.”

  “What! Oh, sure, that’ll go over well with the general population of Sugarland.” He snorted, imagining himself shucking his fireman’s coat, doing the bump and grind.

  “You couldn’t get naked or anything, but you guys can work the room, get the ladies excited.”

  “I’ll leave it to the young guys to get them ‘excited,’ thanks.” Might be funny to see their reactions, though. “What about you? Are you going to strip? That idea has merit.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Her secretive smile raised his suspicions, but he let it go. He suddenly didn’t want to know how she planned to get the men all wound up to bid on her, or who would do the bidding. Eve should be stripping only for him, dammit.

  When they reached a small clearing near a stream, he brought them to a halt and dismounted. “Lunch?”

  “It’s a little early, isn’t it?”

  “I can think of something to pass the time, make sure we get good and hungry.”

  “In that case . . .”

  After helping her dismount, he led the horses to a nearby fallen log and tied them off with just enough slack to allow them to graze. Then he brought the blanket over, spread it, and seized her hand, falling onto it and pulling her down on top of him.

  “This I can get used to,” he said, gazing up at her.

  “Me, too.”

  She kissed him, sweetly at first. Then with more hunger, straddling his hips. Pushing at his T-shirt, she smoothed her palm over his stomach, his chest. It felt so good, he’d never get enough.

  “Don’t ever stop touching me, Eve. Please.”

  She scooted down, kissed his belly. Began to work on his jeans. “You sound starved.”

  “I am. Blair never—” He stopped, afraid he’d ruined the moment. But she looked at him in sympathy and understanding.

  “Never touched you like this?” She unzipped his jeans, parted the material. Exposed his eager cock, gave it a long lick. “Never loved you like this?”

  “Rarely,” he said hoarsely. “She didn’t care much for sex. Too messy and inconvenient.”

  “I’m sorry. But you don’t have to be alone anymore—it’s your choice.”

  “Then I choose you.”

  He kicked off his shoes and she pulled down his jeans, retrieving a condom from his pocket before setting them aside. His shirt went next, flung away into the grass. Mesmerized, he watched as she did a slow striptease for him, baring her bronzed skin an inch at a time. She was a goddess standing naked in the sunshine, and he was sure he didn’t deserve her.

  But he would have her anyway.

  She knelt between his thighs and cupped his balls, squeezing with slight pressure. He groaned, spread wider. Her fingers were warm around his shaft, holding him steady as her mouth took him in. Hot, delicious wet heat. Sucking him between those pretty lips, tasting the salty drops. But he wanted her, too.

  “Spin around and straddle me, baby.”

  Pulling herself off his cock, she did, placing her knees on both sides of his head. He adjusted himself, lining up with the pouty folds, and wrapped his fingers around her thighs. Tongued her slit, loving how she melted into him. Let him have his way.

  They feasted, laving every inch of flesh in tandem, Eve bobbing on his erection with wonderful suction. Him tonguing her clit until she writhed against his face. When he could take no more, he pushed, urging her off.

  “Ride me, baby. I want to watch.”

  The lust in her eyes matched his as she grabbed the condom from the blanket, sheathed his erection, repositioned herself. Slid down onto his cock, seating him fully. Hands splayed on his chest, she began to move. Impaled herself on his cock again and again. The sun shining on her beautiful body, the expression on her face that was so much more than desire—an emotion he didn’t want to name—was a sight he wouldn’t forget until he left the world for good.

  She took him higher, his breaths short, body strung tight. His balls drew up and he did his best to stave off the impending orgasm, but it was no use.

  He shot with a moan, filled her, wishing it could go on forever. That he never had to leave her heat. Especially when her walls tightened around him and she cried out her own climax, wringing the last drops from him.

  “God. It was over too soon.”

  Leaning over, she gave him a soft kiss. “That just means you get to recover so we can do it again, in an hour or so.”

  “An hour!” He made a face. “Honey, I’m forty-three, not twenty-three.”

  “Oh.” She made a show of pretending to consider this. “Well, I guess I’ll have to find a virile young stud to make mad love—”

  With a mock growl, he rolled her, pinning her underneath him. “One hour it is.”

  Her answering smile was all the incentive he needed.

  10

  1991

  Sean’s guts twisted as Jesse approached. The man knew something was wrong, no matter how he’d tried to hide it.

  “What’s eating you, old friend?”

  “You know what,” he said, voice low. “I won’t do this!”

  Jesse was unconcerned. “You already are. Have you forgotten that you’re in this, same as me?”

  “No, never the same as you. I don’t want to live the life of a criminal, and I won’t. I never asked for this.”

  “Come on, Sean. Back in the Colonial days, the American patriots were considered criminals when they told King George to shove it, remember? How’s this any different?” He clapped Sean on the shoulder. “I’m going to make you my lieutenant. My right-hand man. You’ve always had my back and I’ve had yours, right? You and me against the world. What do you say?”

  “You’re insane! I’m not going to run guns or help you do it!”

  “You’re turning me down?” His expression was incredulous.

  “Of course I am! Christ, what am I going to do?”

  “Nothing, that’s what,” Jesse said coldly. “I’m your best friend and you owe me. Don’t forget that.”

  It wasn’t until Jesse spun that they both saw Connors there, standing in the shadows, listening.

  “We need to talk, Rose.”

  “Are you sure you want to go with me?”

  Eve straightened the collar of Sean’s blue button-up shirt, then cupped his anxious face. “That’s at least the fifth time you’ve asked. Are you sure you want me to go?”

  “Of course I do! If you want. But I don’t want you to think—I mean it’s not exactly a great date and—”

  “Sean! Chill, please. Deep breath.”

  He managed one, then nodded. “Christ, I’m sorry. I don’t remember when I’ve been so nervous about an AA meeting. It’s not like
this is my first one.”

  But she was coming, and he was desperate to make a good impression. The knowledge puddled her heart at his feet.

  “You’ll be fine, and I want to go. This is what friends do, remember? Show their support.”

  He gave her an odd look, and then a tremulous smile. “Right. I guess I’m ready.”

  “And then don’t forget my mother is expecting us for dessert.”

  “That should be interesting. She’ll probably grind my bones to make her bread.”

  Eve snorted. “Would you stop! Let’s get out of here before you work yourself into a state of psychosis or something.”

  Sean drove the Tahoe, which gave him other things to focus on besides tonight. She got the chance to observe him, and recall their lovely ride and interlude by the stream. This had been one of the best afternoons she could remember, even if her rear was a little saddlesore. They’d ridden for at least three hours, but she’d had fun.

  Now his confidence had taken a backseat to nerves, and she felt for him. Enabling him to hide, however, wouldn’t help him at all. She’d do everything in her power to restore the man she loved to his former self, or even better.

  A few minutes later, he parked in front of the spacious community building where all sorts of civic meetings were held, and where the firemen’s charity auction would be held in just a couple of weeks. Shutting off the SUV, he sat for a minute, gathering courage.

  “It’s not easy, standing in front of a room of strangers and admitting you’re a fuckup,” he said quietly.

  “First of all, you’re not a fuckup, and second, they’re all there to kick the same problem.” She took his hand. “I know what you mean, but remember what I said.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  They got out and she slipped her hand into his, showing her support, as they walked inside. The crowd was bigger than she’d expected, perhaps fifty or so people. Some of those were sponsors, folks who had been sober for years and were here to lend their strength to those like Sean, just beginning the journey.

  Sean introduced her to a few people he’d met, and they mingled a while before taking their seats. The meeting began and Eve found herself caught up in the various stories of each individual’s path to self-destruction, and the often messy climb back to the light. A few started as social drinkers; some had more painful reasons. But none were as horribly tragic as Sean’s.