Chapter 22
Shannon
Jamie had left hours ago, but his woodsy scent still lingered in the loft, and the absence of his touch left a hollow ache in her chest.
Everything had become a complicated mess.
Jamie had invaded her every thought, and now his name now flashed on her phone beside her bed.
That was the best bacon sandwich ever.
A smile tugged at her lips as a flush spread up her neck, tingling over her scalp. She thought back to how she’d teased Jamie, the temptation rising inside her again.
He had a way of pulling out that side of her. One that shocked and exhilarated her.
Perhaps she could channel this extra energy into her riding and still see him when it suited.
That was the best dessert ever.
Send me a dirty pic, cherry lips.
She chewed the edge of her lip, considering it. No way would she give a guy that kind of leverage. But she didn’t want to stop. Not yet.
Climbing out of bed with a grin on her face, she padded out of the bedroom and headed straight to the whip, still propped up by the door where he’d left it.
Shannon’s core clenched as she stared at it, the memory almost too much to handle, but it was nothing compared to the intensity of having his eyes on her, and the way her muscles strained to obey.
She snapped a picture and sent it with a teasing message.
This is dirty. Want to keep it?
His reply was almost instant.
I’m hard again.
I would help you out, but I’m too far away.
Her phone buzzed, but this time it wasn’t another message—Jamie was calling. She answered in a rush, her heart skipping a beat.
“Are you still wearing my boxers?” His voice was low, thick with that husky edge that made her pulse slam in her throat .
Running her fingers beneath the elastic of the boxers, her smile was playful. “Maybe…”
The line fell silent, then Jamie’s voice came, the tone serious this time. “You good, though? After what happened earlier... With the whip?”
The question caught her off guard, but she appreciated the concern in his voice.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she murmured, trying to keep it light.
“You sure?” He pressed, his voice dipping lower. “What part did you enjoy more? The whip, or how you came for me after?”
Shannon went silent for a moment, her mind flashing back to each heated touch. She licked her lips, her voice a gentle whisper. “I loved all of it.”
Jamie’s breath came down the phone.
“Good girl,” he said, the approval in his voice unmistakable. “I’ll make sure you enjoy all of it next time, too. I want to hear you say my name again.”
“You want me to say your name?” she teased. “How about you earn it?”
The words slipped out before she could stop them, playful in the heat of the moment.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard.”
When he chuckled, she sensed the tension tighten on the other end of the line.
“I’ll be at your door in thirty minutes if you keep misbehaving.” His voice deepened, the invitation clear but layered with a challenge .
She didn’t know why, but the more he pushed, the more she wanted to give in. Was she weak?
Or was she just too drawn to him to fight this anymore? She’d never been the type to let anyone have control, but with Jamie, it was different.
“I start work at five in the morning. Not this time.” She hated the way her voice wavered, how she considered inviting him back.
“You’d be happy for me to come over another time, wouldn’t you?” he asked.
“We agreed on Friday, when you get back from your business trip.” Her resistance thinned with each word, but she held on. Friday. That was the line.
“I’ll have my phone set up for Dictaphone so I can record your sexy groans when you eat,” he teased, a deep, dark laugh following.
She couldn’t let herself like him too much. Jamie wasn’t a guy who’d hang around long, and truth was, he didn’t even need to.
But when he touched her, when he spoke to her like that, all her plans started to fade.
“I like pizza, by the way.” She needed to keep it light to stop herself from caving in.
“I like your pussy, by the way.”
Her cheeks burned, the surge of heat radiating through her.
“Jeez, Jamie.” She slapped her hand over her eyes. “Such a romantic.”
“Is that what you like? Romance? Flowers and shit like that?” he asked, with a warmth in his voice that made Shannon pause, the hint of something real underneath the playful mockery.
“Nah, romance is overrated,” she replied as she moved the couch and tucked her knees to her chest.
He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down her spine.
“Or maybe you haven’t experienced the right romance yet. I could show you something better,” he said. “What’s the point of all that mushy stuff when there’s real fun to be had? And I know you enjoyed yourself, didn’t you, love?”
Shannon’s lips quirked despite herself.
“Yeah, I guess the sex was good.” She bit her lip, resisting the grin settling there.
A low chuckle rumbled down the line. “I’d say the sex was fucking awesome, Shannon. That’s why you like me, isn’t it? Admit it.”
“I haven’t decided if I like you yet.” Her heart raced despite her words.
“Sure you do, love. I can sense it.” His confidence washed over her, leaving her heart in a strange flutter. “Good night, Shannon.”
“Good night, Jamie,” she whispered, the words a soft surrender.
Strong winds howled through the cracks in the barn, making the timbers creak in protest as if the building wanted to escape the storm .
The night air bit, and Shannon couldn’t shake the uneasiness in her chest when she bolted down the stone steps to the yard.
Rain or shine, she made the trip outside to check on Trixie, even though Bucky handled the final yard walk. But the sight of her and the late-night peace in the stable soothed her.
Trixie was there, standing in a sleepy daze, her long neck lowered in a half-doze.
“Hey, girl,” Shannon murmured.
She pushed the stable door open, the rusted metal bolt clanking in the barn's silence. Trixie’s ears shot back.
“It’s okay, girl. Only me,” Shannon whispered, shuffling closer.
The wind blew louder, drowning out everything else. As she reached Trixie, she nuzzled into her warm neck, closing her eyes and stroking a hand through her mane.
“I love you, girl. You’ve got enough water, right?”
The barn groaned again, and then a sudden loud bang followed, rattling through her bones. Shannon flinched, and Trixie skittered sideways.
“It’s okay, Trix.” She ran a hand along the horse’s neck. “Think we’re in for a big storm tonight.”
She glanced over at the full water trough and nodded, reassuring herself.
“See you in a few hours,” she whispered, knowing she’d be back before sunrise.
As Shannon pushed the stable door open, an eerie lull of music drifted through the howl of the wind, like a ghostly melody attempting to weave itself into the air .
A chill ran down her spine, the hairs on her neck prickling.
She locked the stable door, casting one last lingering glance at Trixie before stepping out into the moonlight.
When she passed the feed room, her steps slowed, almost instinctively. The door was ajar, and the darkness inside flickered.
Her heart thudded in her chest, a strange awareness of danger creeping over her.
She moved herself into the shadows and stood still, listening.
Through the narrow slit in the door, silhouettes moved—figures in the dull light from the energy-saving bulb overhead.
Laughter echoed around. Then groans.
Shannon edged closer, a breath held in her lungs as she peered inside.
The newest female stable hand lay flat on her back, naked, her legs spread wide. Taking it all in, Shannon noticed the trail of white powder over her belly.
“Don’t fucking move, Gracie, or my coke will go everywhere,” a male voice growled from the shadows, out of sight.
She recognised the voice straight away. Niall’s shoulders dipped, and he sucked air through a small tube, then sniffed.
Shannon froze, her stomach tightening, as she he covered one nostril, then the other, snorting up lingering powder.
“Your turn, Gracie. Then it’s shots. ”
Every nerve in her body screamed for her to leave, to run back to the loft and pretend she hadn’t seen anything. But her boots stuck to the ground.
She had to see more. To gather more ammunition. Or maybe Jamie had unlocked something inside of her?
Either way, her body held still, waiting.
Gracie rolled to her side and fixed the horse rug under her, humming from the back of her throat. Niall dropped to his haunches and crushed his lips to hers.
Rich auburn curls spilled over Gracie’s shoulders and her breasts pressed into his bare chest.
Shannon inched away, her steps silent in the shadows. The wind tore through the yard again, knocking over a metal bucket, which careened across the gravel before slamming into the stone wall with a deafening crash.
The sound echoed in the night and the feed door blew open.
Shannon froze as Niall turned, his eyes narrowing. The slow movement of his head seemed deliberate, like he knew there were eyes on him.
As his gaze burned into the darkness, he smiled, almost taunting, but said nothing.
Her heart hammered and time seemed to freeze. For a split second, she swore he was looking right at her. She stepped further back into the shadows, holding her breath as if that would somehow hide her.
If he knew she was spying on him, her life in Meadow Dawn would get a lot more difficult.
When she moved again a cold hand wrapped around her arm, and she spun around, gasping. Bucky stood there, his large form a shadow in the darkness.
His grip was firm, but not unkind. She recoiled, then took a steadying breath to control the panic beating in her chest.
“Jesus, Bucky, you scared the shit out of me,” she half-laughed, clutching her chest, trying to steady her racing heart.
Bucky’s voice was low and urgent, his eyes scanning the yard.
“You don’t want to be caught out here. Trust me, Shannon. Head inside before he notices.”
His tone was biting, protective, with an undercurrent of worry.
As Shannon jogged toward the loft, the dark shadow of the barn looming behind her, she couldn’t shake the weight of what had just happened.
Did Niall know she’d been spying?
The door clicked shut behind her, and she leaned against the wall to catch her breath, the chill in her bones a bad omen.