by Kim Loraine
Her eyes flash. “Do you have someone to help you take off your boots?”
Heart racing, I swallow back a slight groan at the husky tone in her voice. “I don’t need help anymore, darlin’.”
“That’s too bad. Seems like it could be fun helping you out of your boots.”
I stop her with a serious glance. “Don’t do that, Lark. Don’t flirt. You know we can’t be more than friends.”
“I’m not flirting. You’ll know it when I do.”
Fuck.
I hold out a hand and help her down from the truck. She instantly wrinkles her nose at the sharp scent of…ranch.
“It takes some getting used to. The smell.”
“It’s not bad. Just…different.”
She doesn’t let go of my hand as we walk toward the stables, and I can’t bring myself to break the contact either.
“So, show me this horse of yours,” she says.
I can’t help myself. I smile. Ben pokes his muzzle out of his stable, and I chuckle. “He hears us.”
She gasps and her eyes widen. “Oh, he’s so pretty.”
“He prefers to be called handsome.”
A little laugh escapes her. “Well that’s too bad. He’s pretty. You’re handsome.”
God, this is going to be hard. I back away and pull a sugar cube out of my pocket for Ben. “Here, give him this.”
“What?”
“The only one you should flirt with is him. He’s gonna be letting you sit on his back for the next hour. Make friends.” I show her how to hold her palm flat and feed Ben his treat without getting her fingers bit.
Smiling, she nods. “He’s so sweet.”
“Unless you piss him off or don’t pay him enough attention. Then he can be a real stubborn son-of-a-bitch.”
“Wow, tell me how you really feel.” She giggles, and I love the way it sounds.
“All right, you ready to learn how to saddle a horse?”
“Only if you promise not to let me fall off.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I’d never let anything happen to you, darlin’. I swear.”
“It’s a real shame you don’t want anything else to happen between us, Travis. You’re about the most swoon-worthy man I’ve ever met.”
Gritting my teeth, I fight the urge to kiss her right then. “You’re right. Nothing else can happen. I can’t—don’t want it to.”
Except that’s a bold-faced lie.
Lark
Travis stares at me like he doesn’t know if he should run from me or kiss me. I don't know what the best choice is either. My body wants his, that’s not a question. But he won’t break my father's trust. Firefighters are tightly knit, and there's an unspoken code between them. That means I'm not an option. It can't happen, no matter how much I want him.
“Are you going to charge me for this? Teacher?” His jaw clenches tight enough I can hear his teeth grind together.
“Stop that.”
“What? It’s what you’re doing. Teaching me how to ride.”
"What are you trying to do to me?”
I shrug. “Remind you of the chemistry between us, I guess.”
"It’s not something I can easily ignore.”
A smile spreads across my face. "We don't have to tell him, you know. It’s not like we’re in love or anything." My chest aches a little at that. We aren't in love. Not even close. But the thought of being easily forgotten by him hurts.
"We aren't, and that makes this even worse. Look, Lark. You’re young, you don't get how this works, but I’m…”
"Technically old enough to be my dad."
"Fuck," he mutters, gripping the fence rail tight enough his knuckles turn white. “Lark, someone your age—"
“You can't be serious.” I don’t care if interrupting is rude. Not when he has the nerve to say I’m too young to understand.
"I've been through more than most people have ever experienced. I think you're forgetting that. And the look in your eyes says volumes about what you want."
He sighs and takes off his hat, running a hand through his dark hair before putting the hat on again. "Lark," he warns.
I throw my hands up and groan in frustration. "I won't text you again. I'm... I need help. Therapy isn't working on its own, and I want to go back to school, want my dad to stop worrying about me."
"He's never gonna do that. Even if you weren't struggling. He's your dad. It’s his job to worry.” And just like that he’s got my heart lurching.
“You say that like you know from experience."
His eyes go dark. "No, kids were never in the cards for me and Gina. I wanted 'em, but she was never ready."
My chest aches for the regret in his words. I want a family. I want it all…one day.
“Is that why you two split?" With a sharp jerk of his chin he trains his focus to the horse standing patiently nearby.
“Come on. It’s time to take this horse to the arena for some one-on-one time together." And that's the end of our conversation. He shut the door on anything else, just like that.
We spend the hour with me walking Ben around the arena, lead rope in hand. I don't get on the horse. Instead, I work on controlling my emotions, on making him feel at ease with me. Travis reminds me more than once that a horse is intuitive, they can tap into our emotions. If we’re stressed, they're stressed.
“Okay, you ready to ride?” He grins and takes the lead rope from my hand.
My heart flutters. The sky is a pale lavender, almost full light. “Are there going to be lots of people here soon?”
He shakes his head. “Things don’t get really going until ten. You’re safe here with me.”
I believe him. Something between us just…clicks into place. He’s my safe place. My sanctuary.
“Don’t let me fall.”
The man winks. He winks, and I nearly melt. Then he takes my hand and rubs his thumb over my knuckles as we walk to a block of steps. “Use the mounting block. I’ll hold him in place.”
He instructs me as I take my seat atop Ben, his hand on my hip until I’m steady, then he passes me the reins. The energy of the huge animal is at once soothing and ramps up my anticipation. It’s a weird blend that shouldn’t work, but that’s how I feel. Terrified, excited, at ease, and a little bit in love.
“Okay, he’s all yours, sweetness. Give him a click of your tongue. If I’ve done my job training him, he’ll get to walking.”
I do as I’m told, and Ben moves forward at a slow, ambling gait that has me swaying easily.
“Sit back in the saddle, drive your heels down, let your hips move with him.”
Heat floods my cheeks at the hitch in his voice on the last instruction. I’m sure he’s thinking of how my hips moved with him in his bed. I squeeze my thighs on instinct, and the horse moves forward quicker, now bouncing me in the seat.
“Sit back and pull gently on the reins, darlin’. Those thighs of yours are telling him you want to move faster.” There’s amusement in his tone, but my heart is racing a mile a minute. “Give him a nice, whoa.”
I follow his instructions and Ben stops completely, standing still as I breathe heavily. Exhilarated, slightly panicky, and rattled, I close my eyes and work to calm my racing heart.
“You’re okay, Lark. I promise.” His warm palm rests on my knee and he squeezes. “He takes his cues from your body. Any time you need him to stop quickly, you pull those reins around one side of your body in a semi-circle. That’s gonna stop him like nothing else.”
Part of me—a big part—wants to get off this horse, go home, and never come back here where unexpected things happen. But when I look at Travis, the confidence he has in me and my ability to do this shines in his eyes. “He can feel your anxiety. He’ll help you ease it if you let him.”
I sigh and try my best to calm my mind. When I’m ready and Travis has removed his palm from my thigh, I give a click of my tongue and Ben begins walking again.
We walk around the arena,
me not doing much besides guiding him with the reins, my gaze locking with Travis’ at every opportunity. His smile is wide, and it’s clear he’s in his element here. He loves this. He bleeds ranch life.
After nearly an hour astride Ben, Travis tells me to bring him to the corner of the arena near the gate. “You want me to get down without help?” I hate the worry in my tone, but Ben is a big horse, and he seems bigger from up here. “That’s a long way to fall.”
“What did I tell you, darlin’? I’m not gonna let you fall.”
He helps me down with practiced ease, warm palms radiating through my shirt and making tingles race across my body.
My feet make contact with the dirt, and I stare into his eyes, our bodies too close for decency. I bite my lower lip, causing his gaze to focus on my mouth. “You smell nice,” I whisper.
He doesn’t let me go, one hand around my waist, the other holding the lead rope. “So do you.”
“I…uh…I think I’m on the ground now.”
A low chuckle rumbles from deep in his chest. “Yeah, seems like you are.”
But he still hasn’t let me go. Then Ben huffs and stamps his foot, breaking the moment. “All right, old man, stop your bitching.” He winks and releases me from his hold. “Let’s get this guy back to his stable so he can rest and roam his paddock.”
I have to catch my breath for a second before responding. “Sounds good.”
Thirty minutes later, we’re in his truck, heading home, and all I can do is stare at the handsome man who gave me his time the moment I said I needed him.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
He laughs softly. “For what?”
“For being there without questions. You didn’t make me talk about what was happening, or try to drag any details out of me. You simply…showed up.”
He pulls over to the side of the two-lane road we’re on and stares at me. “Look, I know what trauma can do to a person. I’ve lived it. I’ve seen it firsthand. You’re working through more than any of us can really ever understand. You don’t want to rehash the details with me, you don’t have to. But I’ll be here to talk it through if you decide you’re ready.”
I want to kiss him. He’s warm and kind and wonderful. “Trav—“
He interrupts me by grabbing me behind the neck and pulling me to him, crushing his lips to mine. A low groan against my mouth sends sparks straight between my thighs, ratcheting up the already tight coil of need in my belly.
Then he releases me and presses his forehead to mine, eyes closed, breathing labored. “Fuck, sweetness, I can’t stop wanting you.”
“Same.” I barely recognize the breathy voice filling the cab.
He cups my jaw and takes a long breath. “I thought I could control myself. Clearly I was wrong.”
“I like it when you’re wrong.”
Scooting away from me, he takes off his hat and shoves a hand through his dark hair. “I don’t know how to do any of this. Your dad—“
“Is a grown ass man who can deal with his adult daughter dating one of his firefighters.”
“No. We can’t tell him. We can’t tell any of them.”
I deflate until I realize what he means. “But we can keep doing this?”
His grip on the steering wheel betrays his stress over the idea of keeping us secret. “I don’t think I can resist you. And I don’t want to.”
“Good, because I’ve been touching myself every night thinking of you.”
He groans, low and pained. “You can’t talk like that, darlin’.”
“Why not?”
“Because it makes me want to fuck you right here on the side of the road.”
A thrill runs through me. “Your bedroom would be better.”
But then my phone rings, and everything around us stops. I answer with shaking hands because I know who it is. That’s my dad’s personalized ring.
“Hi, Dad.”
Travis blanches and puts the pickup in drive without a word. We just crashed and burned in a big way.
Travis
My phone rings for the twelfth time since I woke up this morning, the damn thing won’t stop. Gina’s name flashes on the screen even as I hit Ignore and send her to voicemail. If it’s so important, she can leave a message. No doubt she just wants to piss me off. Again.
Pouring myself another cup of coffee, I lean against the counter in the station’s kitchen and try not to think about Lark and the kiss we shared a few days ago. It had the promise of more behind it, until the chief called her and poured ice water over that.
“You’re popular today, Ryker,” Hamilton says, grabbing himself a mug and filling it while I glower at him.
“I wish I wasn’t.”
“Ex?”
“Always. She loves to try and rile me up.”
He takes a drink and nods. “You guys settle the house situation?”
That makes my chest ache in a bad way. “I don’t know what to do about that.”
“Why is it important to you?”
“Because it was the first thing I bought on my own, you know? My parents weren’t the settle down and have a family type. They got married because of me and never let me forget that I ruined their plans.”
“That’s shitty, man.”
I shrug. “Nothing I can do about it. It took me a long time to realize that I’m not responsible for their choices. But the house? That’s something I worked hard for. It’s painful to let her sell it out from under me.”
“Can you buy her out? Rent the house to someone?”
Shaking my head, I sigh. “No. The divorce was expensive. I’m not in a place where I can sacrifice that kind of money. Not yet anyway.”
“Sorry, man. That’s a real tough place to be.”
“Yeah. I’ll figure it out. I think eventually I’ll let go of it, I’m just not ready yet.”
“I get it. I really do. Remember though, it’s just a house. You can make new memories here.”
At first that stings, but as he strides toward the hall, I realize he’s completely right. That house is filled with memories of me and Gina, lost happy ones and brightly burning hard ones. I could let it all go with one word.
When my shift is over, I walk into my house, phone buzzing in my pocket, yet again.
“Fuck, Gina,” I grumble before pulling it free and staring down at the damn thing.
Lark’s name appears, with 1 unread message displayed across the lock screen.
I tug off my boots and stash them under the bench near the door, then hang my hat and open the text.
“Holy hell, sweetness,” I whisper. She sent me a picture. A really naughty picture. She’s sitting on her bed in nothing but a lacy black bra and tiny panties to match. I can see her nipples through the lace, and fuck I want to suck them into my mouth until she moans. Goddamn the woman is my every fantasy come to life. Except I shouldn’t want her.
My cock thickens, pressing insistently against my thigh, and I wish my Wranglers weren’t so tight. I need a shower, to wash the shift off me and clear my head. But how can I do that with nearly naked pictures of Lark staring me in the face?
I stride down the hall, tearing off my t-shirt and tossing it onto my bed as I make a beeline for the bathroom. I shove the shower curtain aside and take a heavy breath before turning on the water…the cold water.
Stepping under the spray, I let the icy droplets shock my skin and hope to God they’ll rid me of my lust for the woman I shouldn’t want. Goosebumps break out across my arms, but they have nothing to do with the cold. I close my eyes and all I see is Lark. Her lips, her smile, her beautiful curves. I see the one bright spot in a sea of hundreds of colorless days.
Giving up on the cold shower, I turn the faucet to hot and let warmth cover me. My dick is hard and juts out in front of me, begging for some relief, and the memory of that fucking picture is burned into my brain, teasing me.
I lather soap over my chest and arms before running my palm down and finally gripping my aching shaf
t. The contact sends immediate waves of pleasure over me. I’ve been denying myself this and I can’t remember why. A form of self-discipline? As if not jerking off is a way of cleansing her from my system. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get her out of my head.
As I work my hand over my length, I brace my free palm on the tile wall and let the water cascade down my back. All I fantasize about is her. The pouty lips painted soft pink, the dark nipples under her lace bra, the sounds she made when I ate her until she came. “Fuck,” I hiss, already on the brink of orgasm.
I want to make it last, but I’m dying for this torture to be over. I’ve been on edge since she left my bed and I don’t think I can take it any longer. Visions assault me, her sprawled out beneath me, hair splayed across my pillow, breasts begging me to taste and tease, her eyes flashing with unbridled passion. All of these overwhelm me as I begin fucking my fist, wishing it was her tight pussy. God almighty, just thinking of how she’d felt around me has my release racing up my spine, hitting me hard and nearly taking me out at the knees. My grunt of pleasure is almost a sound of pain as I spill onto the shower floor and the orgasm rolls through me.
Fuck. I have to take a few breaths to steady myself as I come down from the high. Then I’m hit with a wash of guilt. I just stroked my cock hard while thinking of my chief’s twenty-one year old daughter. Sure, she’s a grown woman. But I’d promised myself I wouldn’t touch her again. I know three things for certain. I’m weak, I want her more than anything, and I won’t be able to resist.
Lark
“So, tell me everything.” My friend Daisy stares at me as we sit together in my backyard. She pours more slightly effervescent peach wine into my glass and tops hers off too.
“About what?”
“About whatever has you checking your phone every two seconds.”
My stomach flips. “I’m just waiting on an email. About a job.”
Her whole face lights up. “A job? Like a real job? You said you couldn’t go out and be somewhere you’d have to see lots of people.”
“Well, I can’t. Not yet. I’m working on it, but I’m not ready and I shouldn’t rush myself into something like that. I’ve learned that about myself. This is a graphic design job I can do from home.”