Chapter Eight
Rawley nudged his horse’s flanks with his boot heels and rode lazy circles around her, the animal’s muscles rippling beneath the saddle. The dogs ran around him, barking.
“What are you doing?” Skylar asked, laughing.
“So, how good are you?” He nodded at the mare, with a grin.
“Oh, you think you can take me on? I’m not sure how fast this girl is.” She patted the mare’s gleaming neck.
“She’s fast, but not fast enough.”
“Is that a challenge, Agent Bowman?” Her eyes flashed with competitive fire.
“And if it is, Ms. McCoy?” He leaned forward in his saddle, the leather creaking as he folded his arms on the pommel.
“You think I’ll back down?” She straightened her spine, chin lifting.
He raised his eyebrow, studying her determined expression. “I don’t think you’d back down from any challenge.”
“You’re right,” she said, then dug her heels into the mare’s sides and took off, leaving a billowing cloud of golden dust in her wake. The dogs chasing after her.
Rawley grinned and rubbed the horse’s neck, feeling the mane between his fingers.
“How big of a start should we give them? We can’t let two females beat us, right? Let’s go!” He nudged the horse, and it launched forward like a shot, hooves pounding the earth rhythmically.
Rawley spotted her up ahead, her hair whipping in the wind as she kept glancing over her shoulder at him.
Damn, she could definitely ride. She moved with the mare as one, her body swaying gracefully with each stride, barely rising from the worn leather saddle, but he knew he was better.
He watched her figure growing larger in his vision as the distance between them shrank with each powerful stride.
He saw her glance over her shoulder, sunlight catching her widened eyes and her jaw dropping, then desperately nudged the mare again, leaning over the saddle, but couldn’t maintain her lead.
Rawley pulled alongside her, close enough to see the flush on her cheeks, then touched the brim of his hat in mock salute before the horse surged ahead, leaving her and her mare in a swirling cloud of dust and defeat.
****
When Skylar guided her mount into the low-slung barn, golden afternoon light sifted through the loft slats, illuminating drifting dust in the air.
Along the center aisle, Rawley strolled beside his horse, loose reins draped over one hand as he circled the chestnut to cool him down.
The horse’s flanks heaved with each breath, and Rawley tipped his head down, but she saw his eyes sparkling with a grin he couldn’t quite hide.
After sliding from the saddle, Skylar eased the cinch out a few notches.
With each click, the leather slackened against Chanel’s sweaty coat, letting cooler air whisper across her barrel, still snug enough to keep the saddle from sliding and chilling her back too rapidly.
She led the mare at a slow walk, the rhythm of hooves echoing in the barn’s hush.
Rawley had definitely whipped her on the trail. He approached in silence, passing so close she could feel the heat radiating from him. She saw him bite back laughter, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.
“I let you win,” she called, grinning as she tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear. Rawley halted midstride and glanced over his shoulder.
Skylar shrugged, walked her horse a few steps farther before turning and heading back.
At the far end of the barn, she watched him lead Twiz into his stall.
He slid open the door with a soft scrape of wood, guided the horse inside, then latched it shut and leaned against the frame.
He folded his arms across his chest, muscles outlined in the sweat-dark fabric of his shirt. Damn, those arms.
Skylar tethered Chanel’s reins around a nearby post, then stripped off her own saddle. From beside her came Rawley’s low voice: “I’ll take it.”
She spun and shoved the saddle at him with playful force. He caught it easily. Skylar laughed, the sound mingling with distant hoof beats and the low murmur of other horses.
“You were flying out there,” she said, brushing a hand over Chanel’s gleaming coat.
“He’s a rocket,” Rawley replied, hefting the saddle over his shoulder with casual ease. “but Rafe Marshall’s horse, actually named Rocket, is faster.”
“Wow. He must have wings,” she agreed, “but you sit Twiz like you’re a part of the same animal.”
He stepped closer, heat from his body mingling with hers. “You do too. I almost forgot to breathe watching you move.”
A soft grin curved across Skylar’s face. “I had fun.”
“We should’ve made a bet,” Rawley teased, one eyebrow quirked.
“What would the winner get?” she challenged.
He closed the gap between them and kissed her, slowly. When he pulled back, he lingered, gazing into her eyes. “I’m sure I could’ve come up with something.”
Skylar chuckled against him. “No doubt.”
Rawley checked his watch, then offered his hand. “Let’s get Chanel cooled off, then escape this heat.”
After giving the horses fresh water and oats, they walked from the barn. On the front porch, the dogs lay sprawled on the boards, too lethargic to lift their heads.
“I bet they’re roasting too,” Skylar said, wiping sweat from her forehead.
“We’ll all feel better inside,” Rawley promised. He reached for the door and swung it open.
A wave of cooler air washed over them. Skylar inhaled deeply, pressing a palm to her clammy collar. “Oh, that’s bliss. I feel like my clothes are glued to me.”
Rawley smiled. “I’ve got a T-shirt and sweatpants here if you want to change. I’m going to shower first.”
She tugged on his arm. “Why do you get a shower, and I don’t? I’m just as hot.”
He curled his hands around her waist. “You’re hotter,” he whispered, brushing his lips against hers. “And I never said you couldn’t take a shower.”
“I’d like the clothes you offered, please.”
Rawley let out a low sigh, tugging at the hem of his T-shirt. “Okay.”
Skylar grinned, the corners of her mouth curving with playful promise. “You can get them after we shower.”
“Let’s go.” He took her hand, making her laugh, then guided her up the carpeted stairs into his bedroom.
The room was bathed in soft lamplight. The sun shone through the white blinds, making stripes on the carpet.
Skylar lifted her cotton T-shirt over her head, the fabric whispering against her skin as it cleared her shoulders.
She let it flutter to the floor, then leaned forward to unhook the single button at her waistband.
The metal clasp clicked, and the zipper slid down, exposing the curve of her hip.
She sat on the edge of the bed, the quilt rustling underneath, and peeled off her scuffed boots, setting them neatly by the dresser.
When she straightened and began shimmying out of her jeans, she froze. Rawley stood in the doorway to the bathroom, backlit by lightbulbs, arms crossed over his chest. Every taut muscle showed in silhouette, and the front of his jeans betrayed the hard line of his arousal.
Feeling a little naughty, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her jeans, tugged them slowly down her thighs, and stepped free, letting the denim pool around her ankles.
She stood before him in sheer blue lace, her bra cups scalloped with fine thread, matching boy short panties hugging the plane of her hips.
His gaze never glanced away as she slid her arms behind her back, unclasped the bra, and eased it down, baring her skin to him.
She paused just at her chest, letting the straps slip off her shoulders, then let the silky fabric fall.
Panties followed; she kicked them aside, watching them land in a graceful arc.
That was when Rawley crossed the room in three long strides, tugging his T-shirt as he did, then tossed it.
He lifted her fluidly; her breath caught in her throat as his arms cradled her and laid her gently on the rumpled sheets.
He stepped back, and Skylar’s eyes tracked every movement as he peeled off his own clothes, first the boots, then his jeans.
He knelt between her legs and began to kiss a path along her thighs. Each soft press of his lips sent shivers up her spine as he moved up. She pressed a hand to his shoulder, and he paused, looking up.
“Did I do something wrong?” he whispered.
“No. It’s just…we were out riding all day.”
“I know you’re hot.” His voice was low, amused.
Skylar’s cheeks burned. His lips moved to the other thigh, and then, with a tender insistence, he reached the juncture of her thighs. His tongue slid between her slit, and her fingers tangled in his hair.
“And sweaty. Rawley…”
“Shhh. It’s fine baby.” He held her gaze. “Relax.”
Relax? Her body convulsed with need, and when he touched her clitoris, the world fractured. She cried out, arching beneath him, every nerve ending alight. He didn’t stop until her cries echoed off the walls, then climbed up her body and sealed her mouth with a fierce kiss.
He broke away and looked into her eyes. “See? You taste amazing.” He leaned down again but paused to reach into the nightstand drawer.
Skylar felt him drop a condom into her palm. With a quick motion she rolled him onto his back, straddled his thighs, and rolled the latex down over him. He groaned at her touch.
She lowered herself, hips settling until fiery friction bloomed between them.
Her hands braced on his chest as she began to rock in slow circles, feeling every inch of him.
When he sat up, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and their lips met in a passionate collision.
Rawley’s hands slid around her back and up into her hair, holding her head as he matched her rhythm.
Faster they moved, skin sliding against skin, until a wave of white-hot pleasure crashed through her. She arched, clinging to him, and he groaned into her mouth as his release followed. They held each other through the tremors, hearts pounding, breaths mingling.
“Damn, I could use a cigarette,” he muttered.
“You smoke?”
Rawley grinned. “No.”